Chapter Text
Their suits are magical -- supposedly indestructible, and capable of keeping them from feeling pain -- but Marinette supposes the usual rules may not apply when you're facing an absolute giant of an akuma with an equally magical, six foot long sword.
It all starts when class goes to a Renaissance Faire for a field trip. As per the usual, everyone’s enjoying themselves till Chloé decides to bad-mouth the resident blacksmith because “swords are so lame! Why couldn't we take a field trip somewhere cool for once?”
Long story short, that's where the giant sword comes from.
The class scatters almost immediately, but Marinette can still pick out most of them. She can hear Chloé complaining from where she and Sabrina are hiding (behind that wooden chest to her right), and Ivan’s unfortunately obvious behind a much too small tree. Max has jumped into a barrel, Kim’s feet are poking out from underneath a tent flap, and Alix is running as fast as she can in the opposite direction, which is pretty darn fast. Mylène and Nathaniel are nowhere to be seen. Neither is Adrien, which sets her heart pounding, but there’s no time to worry about that now.
Marinette is right out in the open, with Alya behind her. As always, Nino isn’t too far behind (where is Adrien? she could swear he was just right there). She can hear Rose squeaking in fright as she follows Juleka away from the scene.
Chat Noir has appeared, and is currently trying to fence against a broadsword wielder using his baton. Marinette kind of wants to roll her eyes because she can hear the puns from here and because broadsword fighting is nothing like fencing and what on earth is Chat doing? But she’s distracted by searching desperately for a way to escape and transform while Alya’s hand is clamped on her arm.
“Yes! Chat Noir is here! But where's Ladybug?”
If you'd let go of her arm she'd be here! Marinette wants to scream.
Well, Chat can take care himself for a little while, she thinks. Besides, she can already tell the akuma’s in the metalworking tongs hanging from the belt ‘Ironside’ is wearing. It shouldn't be too hard to disarm him.
And then, suddenly, the battle takes a turn for the worse.
“Oh ew!” comes Chloé’s voice. Of course it would be Chloé. “There's grease all over this crate! My sweater is ruined!”
She jumps up from her hiding place and Marinette groans.
The akuma swivels, setting his sights on the person who started this disaster in the first place. Marinette sees Chat’s eyes go wide.
“Hey!” he yelps. “I know Chloé's a pain, but wouldn't you rather have my Miraculous?”
The akuma frowns back at him. “Are you offering it?” he rumbles in his deep voice.
“Of course not, but you're never gonna get it by fighting an obnoxious teenager.”
Marinette scoffs. As if Chat himself isn’t the definition of an obnoxious teenager.
Ironside seems to consider this. “I'll get your Miraculous,” he says calmly. “But first I'll get revenge.” And he continues after Chloé.
Chloé doesn't seem to notice the danger she's in -- she's still muttering over her sweater, complaining that Ladybug hasn't come to save her yet. Sabrina hauls on her friend's arm, but the other girl pays her no mind, and Sabrina scrambles away as the akuma approaches.
Panic is coursing through Marinette's veins. Her heart is in her stomach. She's no fan of Chloé, of course, but she also can't let the girl get skewered.
Alya finally lets go of her arm, her hand going up to her mouth with a gasp, but there’s no time for Marinette to hide and transform.
Her eyes dart across to Chat. His face is a reflection of her own emotions.
The akuma pulls back his sword arm.
“HEY!” Chat bellows, drawing the akuma’s -- and everyone else’s -- gaze. He hurls his baton, hard.
It strikes the akuma between the eyes, David and Goliath style, but the giant only stumbles, rather than falling.
The baton skitters away, sliding into a pile of scrap metal.
Marinette bolts forward. “Chloé! Get away!”
The blonde girl finally seems to take in her surroundings, and speeds off in the direction Sabrina just took, though rather than continuing, she hides behind the smithy and peeks out at the battle.
It all takes place in a matter of seconds, but it feels more like slow motion: like Marinette can see everything happen before it actually does.
While Marinette dashes forward to warn Chloé, and Chloé dashes away to hide, and Ironside stumbles, disoriented, Chat Noir springs forward, diving into a slide that carries him between the akuma's legs. He jumps to his feet, and while the giant is turning, he snatches the akumatized tongs from his belt. The move is so smooth and quick that if Marinette didn't know better she'd wonder why Chat even needed Ladybug.
The akuma, looking for him, swivels back to his original course, and Marinette realizes that now she's in his path, too.
The akuma practically growls at them.
“Get out of here, Princess!”
Chat's voice sounds far away, and what comes next feels like Marinette's watching her own life happen to someone else.
Just three seconds tick by but it feels like days.
In those three seconds, the akuma moves his sword, Marinette tenses for the impact, and then there's a black and gold blur and Chat Noir is in front of her.
She hears him grunt softly, and there’s a wet sort of crunch as the blade meets the spot just below his ribs, a little to the left.
But she doesn't process the sound until she sees the metal tip protruding from her partner's back, dripping with something dark and red and horrifying.
That's Chat's blood, she thinks stupidly, Chat’s bleeding.
Chat’s going to die.
The suits are supposed to be indestructible, something in her brain says.
Chat is going to die, she thinks.
Chat is going to die.
There's another slick squelch as the blade disappears from her view. She hears Chat exhale noisily, just once.
Her own blood is roaring in her ears. Marinette can hear someone breathe, ragged and fast and gasping. She doesn't realize that it's her.
Chat tumbles backward and she catches him, lowering him to the ground gently, cradling him in her arms while he bleeds.
He tries to push the tongs into her hand. “Get… these to… to Lady… Ladybug.”
“No,” she hears herself say. Her voice is hoarse and scared. She thinks she should be crying and she doesn’t know why she isn’t. “No, wait. Chat, wait.”
The desperately throbbing ‘wait' means a hundred different things that she doesn't have time to explain. It means wait, don't go. It means wait, I'll save you and I'm sorry for not being there for you. It means wait, let me catch up, sorry I'm late. It means wait, stay with me. Wait, don't leave me here alone. Wait, don't die because I can't do this without you. Wait, I can't be Ladybug without my Chat. Wait, I can't live without you.
It's not romantic or anything, she thinks. But in any case, she can't. She can't live without him.
The end of Chat Noir would be the end of Ladybug. That's just how it is. There’s no such thing as a coin with only one side.
He doesn't know why her voice sounds the way it does, and he looks at her in confusion.
But she already knows exactly what she has to do.
Right there, in front of her entire class and the akuma and Chat Noir himself, Marinette speaks:
“Tikki, spots on.”
There's a flash of pink. The akuma steps back in surprise, lowering his sword, but she knows his distraction won't last long. At least they've already got the akumatized item.
Chat starts violently when he sees her, then groans in pain.
“Careful! Don't move!”
“Ladybug?”
She doesn't reply to him. “Lucky charm!” she cries desperately, and a spotted hammer drops down beside her. She's fumbling with her yoyo, trying to tug the tongs out of his hand at the same time.
“Ladybug?”
She doesn't look at him. She won't look at him while he's dying because he isn't going to die. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay even though Ladybug showed up way too late and could’ve been there for him sooner if she hadn’t been worrying about her identity. He's going to be okay because this is her fault so she's going to fix it. This is her fault and he is not going to die because of her.
He's not .
She smashes the hammer savagely against the tongs. They break cleanly at the hinge and a glowing black butterfly emerges from the pieces.
She can hear Chat's death rattle from her lap.
He has less than a minute maybe, she thinks. She's not paying attention but the akuma shakes himself and hefts his sword again.
She doesn't see Alya, who has been completely dumbfounded by the revelation of Ladybug’s identity, snap out of it. She doesn't see her best friend take a hint from Chat Noir and scream to distract the monster. She doesn't see it work, or see Alya's phone sail through the air and connect with Ironside’s left eye. She doesn't see Nino catch on and do the same, or any of the stuff her other classmates throw at the akuma.
All she sees through the tears that are finally coming is her yoyo spinning and the butterfly flying away, now pure and white.
“Miraculous Ladybug,” she chokes out, casting the hammer upwards. It's a weak throw, but it's all she can manage, and it's enough.
For a split second, the world is bathed in white light. When it dissipates, she's already staring at Chat's injured stomach.
But the blood is gone. The tear in his magical suit is gone. The shredded flesh underneath it is whole.
He coughs and sits up a little, poking at his side as if checking himself for holes.
“Thanks, my Lady,” he gasps out, grinning.
She stares at him for a moment. She can feel the dried tears on her cheek, and a new one slipping out of one eye, burning hot against her skin. She feels herself take a shuddering breath.
Once again, she feels oddly disconnected from herself. She's sure she isn’t moving her hand, but there’s her glove, red and spotted against his cheek while he smiles at her.
“Are you okay?” she whispers. “Like, really okay?”
“Good as new.”
He has the audacity to wink.
She bursts into tears again. He starts to panic, but he doesn't have time to do or say anything before she throws her arms around him and crushes him in an embrace unlike any he’s ever had before. It takes him a moment, but he get his arms moving and winds them around her waist. He’d pull her closer if he could, because he loves her, and because he’s always dreamed of doing it -- and because, truth be told, that was actually really scary for him -- but she’s got him so tightly that there isn’t anyway she could get closer.
After a long time, she sniffs loudly and pulls back. “Don’t ever do that again,” she tells him. It’s meant to be severe, but there are tears glittering on her lashes and she’s smiling.
“No promises, bugaboo.”
“You will promise.”
“I mean, in my defense, I didn’t know it was you. But I wasn’t going to let anything happen to Marinette either.”
“I don’t care who it is! I’m serious, Chat, don’t ever --”
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” The shrill voice interrupts from behind her and Marinette suddenly remembers that they aren’t alone.
She cringes and looks over her shoulder. “You’re Ladybug?”
If Chloé’s phased by the twin glares she’s getting from Paris’s favourite children, it doesn’t show. “I can’t believe I idolized you . You are so lame!”
Ladybug’s glare deepens. “You’re the one who’s lame! Chat almost died because you caused another akuma!”
Chloé snorts and rolls her eyes. “Ladybug doesn’t even need Chat Noir.” Then she seems to remember she knows who Ladybug is. “No, wait --” Her brow furrows.
Marinette’s anger dissipates in the wake of a deeply unsettling sinking feeling. “I guess I better get on damage control,” she says quietly, thinking of what a mess this is going to be. She thinks she should get up, but she’s not quite ready to let go of Chat.
But he’s ready.
He lurches to his feet -- he’s a little shaky, even if he has been magically brought back from the brink of death -- almost falling on his face.
“Listen, Chloé, I’m going to --” he’s interrupted by the beeping of Ladybug’s Miraculous.
Marinette’s hand flies up to her earrings.
There’s a quiet moment where they both just look at each other, their faces drawn and unsure.
“You’d better get out of here, Bug,” Chat says softly.
“What difference will it --”
“Look, I’ll talk to the class. I didn’t use my Cataclysm. I have time.”
“But --”
“Seriously, Ladybug, you don’t need this right now.”
“Neither do you! You just --” died. She doesn’t finish the sentence out loud.
“I’ll handle it.” He insists. “You get out of here.”
She hesitates. Her earrings beep again.
She’s not sure why she agrees, but there’s something in his voice that convinces her. “Okay,” she says. Then more certain, and more sad: “okay.”
She crushes him in one last hug before she goes. “Stay out of trouble this time.”
He grins. “No promises.”
She glares. “We are going to talk later, mister.”
“Now that I can promise.”