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Spiraling Out of Control

Summary:

Adrien and Marinette have graduated. Life hasn't panned out as they'd planned. Friends moved away, Chat and Ladybug had a fight, and the brightness has faded from their lives. A stroke of luck, from the most unexpected of sources, brings them back to each other.

Trigger Warning: Drug use, depression, suicidal thoughts

Notes:

This is a heavier piece than I am used to writing, but wanted to branch out from my comfort zone. I feel like you might appreciate it.

Work Text:

Adrien sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. The blue tourniquet was pulled tight as he flexed his hand into a fist and back again. "Ah," he hissed. After a few moments he pulled on the short piece of the rubber and it came off. He quickly hid the needle in the empty vitamin container he used for sharps in his cupboard before Plagg gave him hell for it. His head cleared suddenly and he finally got to a point that he felt normal again. He could finally think.

His new apartment was still full of boxes. He'd just left his childhood home, against his father's wishes, and was now completely unsure of where his life was going. He knew he needed to get out of there before he went crazy. If it wasn't too late already. It had been two days and he couldn't find the motivation to unpack anything other than the kitchen, a couple towels, and he set up his bed. Those are the necessities he had worked through.

"I need a drink," he grumbled. Plagg popped out of his night stand and huffed.

"Adrien, you need to get out and do something. What about hanging out with friends?"

"I don't have any friends," he growled.

"Yes, you do," Plagg declared adamantly. Adrien had been in a downward spiral for a long time now.

"Oh? Where are they?"

"You have to put out some effort here," Plagg glared. "Life is a two way street."

"Fine. I'll call one. Will you shut up if I call someone and they turn me down? Who wants to talk to a washed up model, Plagg?"

"Are you sober?" Plagg asked, his eyes suddenly widening.

"What is sober, anyway?" Plagg was unimpressed. He knew there was something in his system, but he also knew that if they fought Adrien would just close himself off and use more out of spite. He'd almost OD'd once already and Plagg didn't feel like pushing his lack-of-luck as it was.

Plagg grabbed his phone and dragged his pods through his contacts, "Here. This one. Call this one."

Plagg had pulled up an unknown number Adrien had saved from his lycee days. He'd always been confused by it because there was no voice mail, but the duration of the call was over a minute. That meant it had gone to voice mail, but there was nothing there.

"Fine," he huffed. He wasn't afraid. He'd get a wrong number, most likely, and Plagg would get off of his back. "It's ringing."

After three rings, Adrien moved to push the end call button when someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, uh, who is this?"

"I'd ask you the same thing."

"I had a missed call and no identification."

"Oh," her eyes widened, "Uh, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Marinette!!!" he exclaimed, a surprised, bubbly giggle erupting from his throat. Plagg glared at him. He'd definitely been using. "It's Adrien."

"Adrien Agreste?"

He could hear an awed intake of air on the other end of the line.

"One and the same. How are you? I haven't heard from you in...years?"

"I could say the same. I'm doing well enough for myself. How have you been?"

Adrien glared at Plagg who was prompting him to tell the truth. Adrien hated how the drugs lowered his inhibitions and he'd allowed Plagg to talk him into this dumb idea, "I've been better," he gritted through his teeth.

There was silence on the other end. "I'm sorry," she whispered, sincerity dripping heavily in her voice. As compassionate as he remembered.

"I just moved out of my father's house. Finally."

"That's great! Where are you living now?" Did she sound like a stalker? Marinette wondered if that was a creepy question to ask. They had been friends once.

"Still in Paris. I'm in an apartment complex called Le Pierre d'Angle. It's down on the Seine."

"No way!! That's where I live. Which building?"

"Four," his head was spinning. She was so close!

She grinned, "I'm in two. I'm right next door. Hey, do something for me. Peek out of your window." Marinette ran to her window to look out. "I'm going to see if I can see your apartment."

"I'm facing the south-west."

"I face north-east!" she exclaimed, suddenly much more excited than she had been. Then she saw a curtain pull back and she could see him. There was Adrien Agreste, just across the way, waving at her. Her breath caught, "I can see you! Wait, you're on the top floor, too?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "And you?"

"Of course," she giggled, "Once I could afford it. I used to live on the eighth."

"You've been living on your own for a while?"

"Yes," she exclaimed.

"Do you want to hang out sometime?"

Marinette felt a flutter in her chest. She'd given up on Adrien years ago, still in lycee, but the desire to see him flared brilliantly, "Absolutely. When?"

Plagg head butted him and Adrien sputtered, "Now?"

"What number are you?"

"4164. You?"

"2162," she giggled, "Pretty crazy coincidence, huh?" Not at all for her, really, seeing as this was the most central location to deal with akumas.

"Yeah! No kidding." Adrien scoffed at Plagg's 'told you so' look. Apparently, his night could turn out better. He wasn't so hopeless after all. "Don't go anywhere! I'm heading over."


Marinette's day had been a complete bust. Her friend had missed a deadline and she'd offered to help him with un-paid overtime to save his job. Marinette was practically dead on her feet. This had been one of the busiest days in months and she still didn't know if Siemme was going to get to keep his job.

Her cat Vida was dancing around her feet. Absentmindedly, she glanced down to see the cat gazing up at her, concerned. Tikki peeked out from the shelf above her stove.

"She loves you, you know," Tikki smiled.

"I know," Marinette nodded.

"Her life depends on you," Tikki added.

"Is there something you need to get off your chest, Tikki?"

"I saw the new pack of razors in your bathroom," Tikki sighed guiltily.

Marinette bit her lip and frowned. She didn't mean to cut that deep last time. In a fearful frenzy she disposed of every razor in her apartment as soon as she got home. The doctor didn't report her, but that was because her ability to lie had been honed into an almost flawless art. She could write a book on 'How to Lie Effortlessly and Effectively.' She had benefited from it, too, because she was such a good liar she knew how to tell if someone else was lying.

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, "I realize that I cut it kind of close last time." Marinette giggled at her own pun. Damn she missed Chat.

"It's not funny, Marinette," her kwami frowned, "I almost lost you."

"I know. I sometimes wonder about doing it on purpose," Tikki gasped and Marinette held her hand up, "But I'm not right now. I'm okay."

"You're not okay."

Marinette sighed, "No, I'm not, but I'm not that bad. Honest."

"What happened to you, Marinette?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Alya and Nino moved to America. Adrien dedicated himself to his job. Chat and I got in a fight and he's in the wind. Everyone left me, Tikki."

"Chat was worried and your parents are still here for you."

"That's one of the reasons I'm still here," she grimaced. Vida and Tikki, too.

She busied herself in the fridge to pull out soup ingredients. It was cold outside and her mood screamed soup. It was a comfort food kind of night. The only thing that could make it even better was a warm hug, but seeing as that didn't appear to be in the stars she'd settle for a rom-com and a warm cat.

"Six cups ham bone broth, half a cup of chopped ham, quarter cup leeks, quarter cup onion, two teaspoon minced garlic, half cup lentils, half cup split peas, half a cup of rice, handful of celery leaves, teaspoon caraway, half a teaspoon ground sage," Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. "salt and pepper, bring to boil and simmer half an hour...done." Marinette had a method. It was one where she didn't talk to anyone or focus on anything as she spun around the kitchen and assembled her soup. The soup process was cathartic. "Hello!?"

Twenty minutes later, and bread in the oven, there was a knock on her door.

"Coming!!" she called. Marinette tried to tamper down the butterflies threatening to erupt out of her throat as the door swung open. "Adrien!"

Her smile faltered, momentarily, as she took in the very thin man before her; sallow skin, well worn clothes, stubble on his chin, and sunglasses. It was just a moment before her excitement took over and the smile shone brightly again.

"Come in," she smiled and stepped back to gesture him in.

Instead of walking past her, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. She could feel the frailty of his body as he held her shakily. "Mmmm, you smell good."

"I-It's probably the soup," she whispered.

"Ha! And you still stutter."

"No," she growled, "I'm just. You've never hugged me before."

He leaned back and smiled, "I don't think I've hugged anyone in a long time." Then he leaned forward and enveloped her again, "I think I like it...or it's just you."

"Okay," she patted his back and panicked, "Want to watch a movie? Are you hungry? I have soup on the stove and bread in the oven."

He hummed softly and his breath tickled her hair. "This is nice."

"Adrien, are you okay?"

"Purrrfect," he sighed. "This is the best I've felt in weeks."

"Well, I'm going to need you to go sit on the couch while I stir the soup, okay? I'll be right there."

He nodded and reluctantly pulled away with a little wobble.

"Are you okay?"

"No, but I'm feeling pretty nice right now," he grinned. It was unnerving to Marinette, there was something off with him.

She cocked her head to the side to think. His pupils were dilated and his face was too red.

The soup was boiling and almost done, by the looks of it, anyway. She could focus on him.

Then it hit her.

Adrien is using.

She jerked her head back towards where he was sitting on her couch and saw he was rubbing her corduroy pillow against his cheek and purring.

"Oh no," she whispered, "Not Adrien."

Tikki appeared next to her ear, "You really are a pair, huh?"

Marinette glared at Tikki, "I'm not. It's not that...how do you see me?"

"Different strokes for different folks," Tikki shrugged.

"I wonder what happened," Marinette mused.

Her situation was different than Adrien's. Her entire life was a lie. Ladybug at night, Marinette during the day, and enough nightmare fuel for the rest of her life. Between that, and her friends leaving, throw in a good dose of PTSD, and a shit-ton of hospital bills, you'd find enough to mess with even the strongest person. Marinette was sensitive. There was enough there to break her.

"Looks like he's not as perfect as you thought," Tikki smiled sadly.

Marinette's eyes widened. Fuck. Tikki was right. She'd elevated Adrien to an unattainable level of perfect so that she couldn't even fathom him being human like the rest. This realization that he was troubled, as deeply as she was, made her want to help him. It was laughable really since she couldn't even seem to help herself. Luckily, one thing she was good at was taking care of others. She might be a little out of practice, but this was the perfect opportunity to see if she still had it.

"Adrien," she leaned down over his purring form. His eyes shot open and stared at her, pupils blown wide, with his breath coming in puffs. "This pillow is so soft."

"Yeah, it is," she smiled. "Scooch."

Adrien lifted a leg, but made no motion to move. Marinette sighed as she sat across the one leg and he dropped the other into her lap; effectively trapping her.

She absentmindedly stroked her hand down his calf, memorizing the curves of the muscles beneath the fabric. He still smelled the same; at least he was bathing regularly. The cotton on his bottoms was pilling, probably from multiple washes, and his shirt had a couple holes. As her fingers walked up his calf to his knee his face stilled against the pillow and she caught his eyes resting on her hand.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as if she had unlocked some mystery to life.

"S-sorry, do you want me to sto--" He reached out and grabbed her retreating hand to place it firmly back in place.

"No. I like it," he stated matter-of-factly. Then he buried his face back into the pillow and sighed, "I like being touched." Correctly, as Plagg would clarify, he liked to be pet. It was one of those affections he and the tiny cat had in common; thank you, miraculous power transference.

"You're just like a cat," she snorted. He reminded her of a friend she missed dearly. It was comforting to have a little bit of that familiarity with someone again. Adrien didn't seem to mind her ministrations and she'd always secretly wanted to touch him like this.

"Mmhmm," he nodded distractedly. The rumbling became louder in his chest and Marinette suppressed a giggle. It had been a long time since she'd laughed and she wasn't sure she knew how to anymore without feeling self-conscious about it.

There was a buzzing sound, off behind them, and Marinette lifted Adrien's leg to extricate herself from the couch. The bread was done and her apartment smelled delicious. Her Ham and Split Pea soup was done so she dished up a couple bowls to cool. "Are you hungry?"

Adrien didn't answer her. She walked over to where he was lying on her couch. His eyes were clutched shut tightly so she reached down to stroke his hair. His eyes shot open, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "The room is just bright is all."

Marinette noticed his sunglasses had been flipped up into his hair by his rubbing his face on her pillow. "Allow me." She slid them back into place and Adrien hummed with appreciation.

"I've missed you, Marinette."

It warmed her heart to hear him say it, even if he didn't mean it the way she would want him to. All the same, even though he was under the influence, that made it all the more believable. This man was longing for connection just as badly, if not more so, than she was.

"I've missed you, too, Adrien," she pulled her hand away, "Soup?"

"Please."

They ate their soup on the couch, the coffee table pulled up close, and a movie playing in the background.

"How have you been?" Adrien asked her.

Marinette hadn't expected to be asked how she was. It was unusual for anyone to ask how she was doing. Perhaps he was just making small talk. She shrugged, "Eh, been better."

"You could talk about it." He put his soup on the coffee table and waited expectantly.

"It's been a rough go lately," she sighed. Apparently, he wasn't just making small talk. Well, might as well scare him off now so she won't get attached. "I'm seeing a therapist for it, but thank you for asking how I'm doing. I don't know how long it has been since someone even cared to ask aside from my parents."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"What about you?" she prompted and kicked his foot encouragingly.

He scoffed, "You mean the part where I imploded and everyone left me? Yeah, I'm doing great." He leaned back and sighed, "It feels good to eat again."

Marinette frowned, "It was that bad? I saw you quit modeling."

Clearing his throat he nodded, "Yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm irreparable by this point."

"We are a hell of a pair then, huh?" she sighed, "I know there are people who would be devastated if I were to go, but sometimes I just think taking away the burden of feeling obligated to care would be easier."

Marinette was fiddling with her fingers when she realized what she'd just said. It was a tense few seconds where she contemplated trying to gloss it over or pretend she didn't say it, that it came out wrong, but then she couldn't get her mouth to move. It was just out there. She was no longer nervous around Adrien and he was surprisingly easy to talk to.

She hadn't anticipated the warmth from his body as he wrapped his arms around her and whispered, "You aren't a burden, Marinette. You're amazing." He must have heard her humorless snort. "Really." He pulled away to look at her, "I never would have thought you didn't know that."

It was nice to be held, but inside she wanted to yell at him. What the hell do you know about it? Don't judge me?! "I'm so amazing I spend every night alone with my cat trying to forget the new pack of razors in my bathroom closet." Damn it, Marinette, stop talking.

At this point, Adrien noticed her wrists and could just make out the thin silver scars adorning her wrists. Without a second thought, his fingers moved to gently caress the soft skin there. Only, he didn't stop, and grabbed her wrist to press his lips there softly.

Marinette stopped breathing.

"Adrien, don't--"

Adrien took the soft skin between his teeth and bit down, hard. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough for it to taste metallic.

"Ah," she gasped and her head fell back. "Why are you...?"

He sighed and pressed another kiss to her wrist, "You were obsessing, I could see it. I didn't want you to feel that way. You cut to feel something else, right? I don't want you to hurt yourself, Marinette."

"Then why did you bite me," she whispered with a smile pulling at the edge of her lips. Adrien was more understanding than anyone had been before. He knew what she needed.

He leaned down and nipped her wrist again, softly, feeling her sigh again, "If you want to feel something, I want you to feel me."

She didn't have words. In fact, the room was suddenly super warm and she spluttered, "W-what about you?" she asked, "You obviously know what works for me. What do you need, Adrien?"

He shrugged, "It's a long story." He leaned back and began to close off.

Marinette wasn't going to let him get away that easily. She knew he was in a pretty touchy state, and appeared to like it, so she leaned towards him to rest her head on his chest, "We have all night. I'm patient." And like that she locked him in.

He chuckled, "Yeah, I guess." Big breath in, big breath out, "I've been on sleeping pills since I was sixteen. My father said I wasn't getting enough sleep. It interfered with school and extra curricular activities." (read superhero duties) "Because the sleeping pills made me overly tired he got me a prescription for stimulants to stay awake when I needed to. It sort of snow balled from there."

"How? If you don't mind my asking."

He rubbed a hand down her back. His high was wearing off, but he wasn't feeling the usual plunge. It was nice. "A collegue, a fellow model, saw how stressed out I was getting about it all so he gave me some kratom to try."

"I've never heard of it."

"I don't know where he got it, but I know it made me feel a lot more relaxed," he nodded at the memory. He winced and hissed, "You don't want to hear this."

"I do, but you don't have to go on if you don't want to. Trust me, I won't judge you, Adrien. You've met my ghosts."

"Yeah, well, I really liked my kratom. I stopped taking the sleeping pills because of that. Then got rid of the prescription stimulants."

"You didn't need those anymore?"

He grimaced, "I found something better. Less intense, but just as effective. Plus, I can think when I use it."

"What you took today?" She asked. He nodded. "What was it?"

"Cocaine," he huffed, "It was only the third or fourth time I've used it, low dose. It helps me think when everything else is too much."

"Adrien," she whispered sympathetically. It broke her heart. Tikki was right. She and Adrien were pretty much the same, but with different motivations and coping mechanisms. "I want you to stay here tonight." It was out of her mouth before she could hesitate. Then it ran through her head a dozen different times in only a fraction of a second.

She brought her face up to meet his and he smirked, "I'm not the same person I was before."

"I'm not either, and I wouldn't want you to be. I still care about you, Adrien, and I don't want to lose you again. This is the first time I've felt even remotely like myself in a long time. You can't blame me for not wanting it to end, can you?"

"Not at all," he hummed.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close while they finished their movie.

Plagg had been right. He'd wait to tell him so. Adrien decided he'd have to thank him later and give him an extra helping of camembert for his suggestion. Who knew a kwami-dialed unknown number could be so significant?

They fell asleep on the couch, neither one willing to break away, as their souls finally felt at rest for the first time in years.

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