Chapter Text
She was only out for a second or two before she sucked in a smoke-tinged breath and coughed it back out. Their suits had protected them from most of the damage, but her face felt tight and prickly from the sudden flash of heat.
Chat Noir was curled over her, and he shifted a little when she tried to turn over. She managed to pull an arm free to pat the back of his head. “Are you okay?”
“Me-yowch.”
She rolled her eyes. “Guess that didn’t hurt your sense of humor.”
“Still got eight lives left,” he replied, and she didn’t need to look to see the grin on his face. She rolled her eyes anyway, and he started to push himself up to roll away from her.
Crack!
Ladybug didn’t wait for the detonation, just grabbed Chat Noir and rolled them both away from the coming explosion. She couldn’t help but think how this was all her fault. If they’d just taken their time, scoped out the tollhouse more thoroughly or waited for help, this wouldn’t have happened. There wasn’t even time to check if the computer was okay, as her elbow smashed through another of the trapped floorboards.
“We have to run for it,” Chat Noir shouted, as they scrambled to their feet to avoid the blast. A floorboard cracked under his hand, another under Marinette’s knee.
He was on his feet first and caught her hand to pull her up into a mad dash for the nearest window. The window was boarded over, and not even their combined strength could force it open.
They were on safe ground now, but when Marinette turned to study the room behind them she could see other traps being triggered from the proximity of the blasts. Individually the explosions really weren’t that bad—mostly just enough fire and heat to be a little scary and blow apart the ancient wood around them. But everything was going up at once now, spreading out from the center of the room, flames catching along the walls and ceiling.
“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug threw her yo-yo up, just as Chat Noir called on his cataclysm to break apart the boards covering the window.
“A towel?” She stared at the red and black fabric in her hands. “What am I supposed to do, dry off the fire?!”
“No time for that, Milady!” Chat Noir had an arm around her waist, spinning her away from the heat of the explosions, forcing her out the window ahead of him. She rolled on the rough ground, towel still clenched in her fists.
“Chat Noir!”
Another explosion, bigger than the last. She heard him cry out in pain, and then nothing but the roar of the flames.
There was an old rain barrel nearby. Ladybug dunked the towel in the scummy water and wrapped it around her mouth and nose before running back to the broken window. She tore at the old wood, breaking pieces of it away until she could see inside.
Chat Noir was lying against the wall, just under the window, where the latest explosion had thrown him. She leaned in through the window, heat washing over her head and shoulders and stinging her eyes, but even then her fingers barely brushed his elbow.
She ducked out, took a deep breath, and tried again. Braced her feet on either side of the broken window frame to get every inch of reach she could.
She couldn’t get a good grip on his arm. Ladybug leaned in closer, rested a hand against his side.
The heat was an oppressive presence. It was like a living thing battering at her, driving the breath from her lungs even with the towel around her face. Her body was safe under the suit, but her exposed face felt raw and hot and smoke stung her eyes.
A little further down, groping blindly as she had to blink away tears. Then her fingers caught in something, and she wrapped her hand around his belt and pulled.
Out the window, into the cool night air. With strength born of fear and adrenaline she hauled Chat Noir out by his belt, onto the open gravel beside the tollhouse. Ladybug whipped the steaming towel off her face and used it to smother the burning cinders in Chat Noir’s hair.
“Chat?” Her voice was shaky, pleading. “Kitty, please…wake up? Please?”
He groaned, rolling his head toward her voice. The tips of his hair were singed, and his face was bright red from exposure to the terrible heat of the blaze, but his eyes slowly cracked open.
“You okay?” he rasped.
She tried to laugh, but there were tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Chat. This was all my fault.”
“It’s okay.” He gingerly grabbed her hand, her fingers still coiled around the towel. “You can fix it, right?”
Ladybug nodded. “I hope so.” She raised her eyes to stare at the burning tollhouse, the rising alarms indicating the fire department was on the way. This had been too close for comfort. She’d let her anger at the person posting Adrien’s pictures get the better of her, and she’d led them both into a trap they’d only narrowly escape.
They could have been seriously injured, and they might have lost their only clue.
She could only hope it wasn’t in vain.
“Miraculous Ladybug!”
…
In the end, they’d had to listen to a stern lecture about safety from the firemen, then another about the risks they’d taken and the importance of backup from Nightlock. But the fire was out, the tollhouse restored, and the United Heroez were able to gather plenty of evidence against Changeling from what was left.
Including the computer that had been uploading the pictures.
“This is still a win,” Nightlock said, as one of her associates packed up the computer tower and monitor. “It might not feel like it right now, but this is the closest we’ve gotten to catching Changeling. I won’t say I’m happy that you took this on by yourselves, but you found a solid lead.”
“I just wish we could have gotten more,” Ladybug said. She was exhausted, and Chat Noir was even worse off. The magical ladybugs had wiped away their injuries, but her skin still felt tight and raw even though the burns had vanished. It was always like that…healed injuries still hurt, and they’d both be a little sore for the rest of the night.
Nightlock shrugged. “We don’t always catch the bad guy on the first try. But, you stopped their plan, got some information, and probably saved that Adrien kid a lot of pain.”
Chat Noir leaned against Ladybug; his head heavy on her shoulder. She managed a smile and reached out to shake Nightlock’s hand. “Let me know if you find anything?”
“Of course,” the hero agreed. “You know how to find me.”
And then she was turning back into the tollhouse, helping her team sweep the building for any clues Changeling might have left behind.
“Can we go home now?” Chat Noir asked, his voice half-muffled by her shoulder.
“Of course. Let’s go.”
…
“I’m sorry,” Marinette blurted out as soon as they’d dropped their transformations to climb down through her trap door.
He stared down at her through the bend of his elbow. “For what?”
She bit her lip, fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”
“I’m okay, Marinette. Really.” Adrien landed on the floor and took one of her hands. “Good as new, thanks to you.”
Marinette blushed and had to look down. “Not just today. The whole…with the pictures…I didn’t want him to hurt you again.”
Adrien stilled, and when she looked up his face was pinched with exhaustion though he tried to smile. “I think anything that has to do with him is going to hurt for a while, to be honest.”
“Oh, Adrien.” She pulled him into a hug, not missing the way he held onto her. He’d been through too much already. It just wasn’t fair. “I’m so sorry.”
His arms tightened around her. “Thanks. I’m…I’m glad I met you, Marinette. You’re a wonderful friend.”
A friend.
Sometimes that word felt like an arrow in her heart. Proof that he might never feel the same way she did.
But sometimes, in moments like this, it was her favorite word.
“I’ll always be here for you,” she whispered. “Always.”