(Mood Music: "Vanessa's Dream" - Abel Korzeniowski)

Marinette bolted upright, near hyperventilating, cold sweat covering every inch of her body. She whipped her head around, clutching her blankets as she regained her senses, and relief slowly settled upon her shoulders when she realized she was back in her room.

That nightmare... it felt so real. Never had she experienced a dream so vivid and terrifying as that.

Marinette knew why it had happened, of course. She'd seen it coming. Fu had mentioned that sharing symptoms was a possibility if secret identities were revealed too early. She just didn't know what the manifestation of this effect would be.

She dearly hoped that Chat's– Adrien's –daily nightmares weren't as horrible as this one.

Sparing a glance at the sleeping Tikki, Marinette decided not to bother her and go get a glass of water to clear her head. Her shaky legs somehow managed to climb down her loft, and she headed towards the kitchen.

She hadn't expected to see him here too.

He was facing away from her, his white-knuckle grip on the countertop visible even in the darkness. He must've heard her coming; as he was wearing only a simple t-shirt and sweatpants as pajamas, he whispered the transformation phrase to protect his identity.

Not that it mattered much anymore, she thought to herself.

But she couldn't tell him that she knew, or she'd have to explain how she knew. In any case, things were bound to remain a bit awkward ever since he had offered to disclose his identity.

"Hi, Marinette," he murmured without turning around. His specialized hearing must've indicated to him which of the Dupain-Cheng family members was approaching. "Up early or up late?" he asked with forced cheer, trying to hide the sniffle in his voice.

"Neither," she answered. "Bad dream. Really bad," she breathed out, then looked up at him. "You too?"

He nodded, fiddling with a tissue. "Can I get you some water? Or maybe some warm milk?"

"Water, please."

He opened the fridge to fetch the water, filling up a glass, then set it on the countertop in front of her. She thanked him, then took a small sip, sitting down on one of the bar stools.

"You have nightmares every day, right?" Marinette asked.

Chat nodded. "Pretty much."

She gulped. "If you don't mind me asking... What are they about?"

Chat squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a ragged sigh. "Death. Destruction." His hands curled into fists and he added bitterly, "And they always start out with that damn butterfly." He shuddered, then shook his head. "I'd rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you," he said with a small, apologetic smile.

A sickening chill creeped down Marinette's spine as she made the horrifying realization; the dream she'd had wasn't actually her own. It had been Chat Noir's dream.

This was what he dreamed every night? No wonder he didn't want to sleep. She'd endured one. How many had he had during his lifetime? She forced down another sip of water, fighting the bile that threatened to rise up her throat, then set her hands down on her lap to hide how they trembled.

A few moments of thoughtful silence passed. Marinette looked into the young man's eyes with genuine wonder. "Minou... how are you so strong?"

Chat made a noise halfway between a laugh and a scoff. "You're asking me? I could ask you the same thing. You're the bravest person I've ever met, Mari."

Marinette was grateful that the darkness concealed her traitorous blushing cheeks.

"What I mean is, you have them every day, but I've never heard you complain, not even once. How do you do it?"

Chat's voice got quieter. "I guess it's because... it's not really strength that gets me through it. This is something that just happens," he answered with a shrug. "Sometimes, I'll try to stay awake as long as possible, consume ungodly amounts of caffeine to avoid sleeping. I'm sure it's terrible for me. But it's no use, of course. As inconvenient as it is, humans need sleep. So I just... deal with it. Everyone can do hard things when they simply don't have any other choice."

Marinette pondered his words. "Well... I still think you're pretty strong, even if you don't think so."

He gave her a small smile. "I appreciate you saying that."

A few moments passed in silence after that. Marinette took a few more sips of water. Chat cleared his throat, unsure of what to say next.

He took a step away, tail swishing behind his back. "W-well, uh... I should go back to bed now. Good night," he said with a small salute, then began to walk back to his room.

Marinette practically slammed her glass down, panic trickling down her spine again as the terrifying images from her dream flooded into her mind again; the room felt smaller and darker and colder when faced with the thought of being left alone.

"Wait!" she called, then clambered off the stool.

Or she tried to, anyway. Her foot got caught on one of the stool's legs, and she gave out a small yelp as she tumbled towards the ground, and she closed her eyes bracing for impact.

She never hit the floor, however, as Chat Noir managed to catch her just in time. She looked up at him, his kind eyes meeting hers, their beautiful soft glow carrying the love she craved, in his arms the comfort she so desperately desired.

She couldn't help what happened next. She threw her arms around him and cried, "Please... don't leave."

He held her, rubbing her back gently, providing quiet reassurance to her repeated apologies.

When her breathing and heart rate had calmed down a bit, he offered to hang out in the living room with her and she vehemently agreed. He excused himself for a moment to fetch some blankets and pillows, and they made themselves a cozy little nest on the sofa. They turned on the television, volume turned down almost all the way, just as an idle distraction while they made themselves comfortable.

As Marinette began to drift off to sleep, she told herself: One week. In one week, she would accept Chat's offer and let him confess his identity to "Marinette". That would give her enough time to process what had happened, and enough time to rehearse how she should react, so she wouldn't act or say anything suspicious. It was time to press forward and accept that this was her new normal.

It didn't take long for the pair to fall back asleep, and neither of them had nightmares again for the rest of the night.