Archive of Our Own

He wasn't quite sure how it happened the first time. One moment he was standing next to his partner, ready to defend against the rampaging akuma. The next he was being flung into the air by razor-sharp claws. His back and head slammed against the brick wall and he remembered Ladybug's guttural scream as everything went dark. He didn't feel much pain the first time. It was quick, soon growing dark as Ladybug fought the akuma with newly invoked rage.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed. He slightly sat up, wincing. He didn't feel injured, but the hospital was unmistakable. He heard sobbing and turned. Ladybug, tears streaming down her cheeks, her face red as she pulled him tight to her chest. He didn't try to lighten the mood with a pun. He was confused. "You stupid fucking dumbass!" She exclaimed. Chat found that a bit redundant, but he didn't speak his though out loud. Ladybug looked pissed.

"What...happened?" He managed to ask. His tongue felt heavy and thick in his mouth, as if it took up too much space. His back and head were sore, as were his limbs. Ladybug sniffled, wiping away some of her tears as she explained. The akuma had thrown him into a wall and he'd died. He was dead...supposed to be, anyways. He felt his pulse point. The steady thumping of his heart met the tips of his slim fingers proved he was alive.

Maybe being a destruction-power wielding cat hero wasn't all bad luck.

The second time was more painful. The akuma had pushed him off the roof, and due to his luck, he'd landed on a street pole. It had impaled him right through the middle, and though he was glad it had missed anything vital, he almost wished it did. This was what pain felt like. Red and hot. He wanted to scream and cry, to call out for someone to help him. Ladybug had to fight the akuma. He'd assured he would be fine. He felt like an idiot.

He knew what death tasted like. What death felt like. It was warm and tasted of copper. It gushed over his tongue and oozed between his teeth. It dripped from the corner of his slightly parted lips as he tried to get the taste out of his mouth. It slowly ran down from his nose and coated his throat when he swallowed. It coated the leather material of his suit and glistened on the metal of the pole.

Maybe he didn't know what death tasted like. Maybe it was his own blood slowly oozing into his mouth, staining his suit and teeth red. But perhaps death tasted of blood. Of copper and warmth. He remembered darkness again, like his first death. He heard Ladybug's voice just before his heart stilled in his chest and his body went limp.

Plagg later told him he had seven left. Seven lives to make count.

The third death was by his own hands. His father had threatened to pull him out of school, add more activities and photo shoots to his schedule and take away any free time if he dared to disobey him. Adrien had panicked, slammed the door to his room shut and locked it. He opened his closet and pulled out a box. It was cardboard, stained with brownish red. He could feel Plagg's worried green gaze as he padded to his bed and opened the box.

Inside were several sharp objects. Scissors, box cutters, stolen kitchen knives scattered among ones he'd been brought from his father's travels, the insides from pencil sharpeners, and a few shards of glass from an old broken plate. So many choices. His fingers hovered over each potential weapon, mind clouded. He barely heard Plagg's worried voice before he was lifting the box cutter.

He admired the glint of the blade before pushing it into his skin. He admired the beads of crimson that pooled against his skin before doing it again. His pace picked up and eventually it was too much. His sheets and blankets and arm stained with blood. He didn't stop until his eyes rolled back, the blade falling from his fingers. He woke up to his arms wrapped and his box gone. Guilt pushed him to lay back down.

Plagg watched him the rest of the night, not saying anything. He didn't have to.

The fourth time was uncomfortably hot. Of course, he remembered telling himself, it's fire. It licked and snapped at his skin, burning away at the leather of his costume. It singed the ends of his blond hair. Loud pops and snaps from the wood surrounding him. It burned his skin and his suit, exposing more of his pale flesh to burn away at. He remembered a faint copper smell, but he ignored it. He had done what had needed to be done. He didn't regret it, even if Ladybug and his Kwami thought otherwise.

The girl he'd saved, maybe three or four, was tucked underneath him. He was hunched over her, shielding her from most of the flames and debris. If something were to collapse it would most likely fall upon him, but the girl would be safe. That was what being a hero was, sacrificing yourself for the good of others. She was silent, had been passed out when he'd found her in his room after her mother's hysterical screaming. Ladybug had warned him not to go in, but he couldn't just leave her to burn. She was so young.

Another loud snap, and then something falling on him. Part of the ceiling, most likely. He tensed, checking on the girl still huddled close to his body. Her chest still rose and fell, her eyes still closed. As long as she was alive. He paused, realizing the smoke could also harm her. He pulled her shirt above her nose, how he wished he had a Lucky Charm. He smelled something odd, perhaps his own flesh slowly being cooked by the scorching heat. He could hear voices outside, Ladybug and someone else. Her voice relaxed him slightly as his eyes fell closed.

Plagg told him that he only had five lives. He didn't comment, only asked about the little girl he'd saved and if she was alright.

The fifth life was easily one of the more painful ones. The akuma's hand tightened around his throat as he gasped for air, limbs flailing as he was lifted off the ground. He clawed at the akuma's arms, but they seemed to be made of a tough material as they didn't even flinch. Chat felt his lungs beg for air as he choked, saliva dripping from his mouth as he flailed helplessly against the akuma's iron grip. They grinned, wicked and sharp, and applied more pressure to his throat. He choked, his limbs seeming heavy as he tried to call his Cataclysm attack, but nothing could escape his throat except gasps and gurgled, hoarse words.

His head felt as if it were going to explode as the akuma once again pushed harder, nails digging into the sides of his neck. He was terrified, his brain seemed to be screaming at him as he shoved and pulled at the akuma. He had no idea where the item could be, but if he could break it he could get enough of a distraction to stop the akuma's attack. His eyes watered, tears slipping down his face. His mouth tasted sour and it felt as if there was a fire spreading throughout his body.

The akuma seemed to get bored by his struggling and finally yawned. It had only been two or so minutes, when he caught a glance at the time, but it felt like hours. The death itself wasn't as painful as the lead up. The akuma caught sight of Ladybug and excited by the new target, snapped his neck. He slumped to the ground as the akuma ran off after his partner. Chat woke up after her Lucky Charm had been cast and found his throat sore.

He didn't take breathing for granted after that night. Plagg once again reminded him this was not immortality.

The sixth death was something much more common than being impaled or burning alive. He found himself plunged into the depths of the freezing ocean that the water-based akuma had made Paris become. His eyes snapped open and he fought against the uncomfortable situation. He hadn't had any time to take a deep breath, but he had managed to inhale before being flung by the villain. He knew how to swim, but there was no shore to swim to like at a beach or pool. Buildings, cars, streets, all submerged in the icy depths. He knew either he'd get hypothermia, or he'd run out of air and drown. He'd rather take the first one, truthfully. At least he had a chance of surviving hypothermia if he could find a tall enough building.

The urge to not breathe underwater overwhelmed the burning need for oxygen in his lungs as he swam upwards. He had been flung deep below the surface of the make-shift ocean the akuma had created, and his limbs felt stiff from the frigid temperature as he attempted to swim upwards. His lungs burned for air, but he knew he was surrounded by water. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he soon found himself almost unable to move, his eyes half lidded and his limbs stiff and frozen feeling. Every inch of him begged for air, and yet he still hadn't made it to the surface. His eyelids drooped even more and he eventually stopped moving.

The first breath happened when he was almost unconscious. Liquid invaded his lungs and he coughed and spluttered, bringing more water into his lungs. He flailed helplessly as much as he could. It couldn't be that long, could it? Surely Ladybug had her Lucky Charm by now. Just once, maybe he could live through this? He couldn't stop himself from gagging and coughing, only succeeding in furthering the process of his death. Come on, Ladybug he thought as he drifted further into the depths. Everyone else had, hopefully, made it somewhere safe. He however had been plunged to his icy death. Eventually, like his other deaths, everything turned black.

He woke up coughing and spluttering, taking large gasps of air. Chat avoided large bodies of water and baths after that.

His seventh death was right after an argument with Ladybug. She had called him reckless, downright suicidal. She had asked if he even cared if he died. Chat went to retort when he suddenly realized that if Ladybug was safe...he didn't. The thought made his heart jump in his chest. Ladybug impatiently waited for a reply when a scream cut off their dispute. Both heroes turned towards the source of the sound. "This isn't over," Ladybug spat before swinging off, leaving Chat. He soon followed, determined to prove that was not reckless. He was just protecting her. Even if she claimed she could handle herself, if Ladybug got hurt, he'd never forgive himself.

It wasn't an akuma for once, instead a bank robbery. The police had yet to arrive, so the teens decided to try and settle the situation and apprehend the robber before anyone got hurt. The two rushed in. It was a woman, maybe late thirties, dressed in all black. She spun around, eyes wide as she saw the two heroes. Ladybug stepped closer, talking calmly to the woman as one of the civilians called the police, whispering into the phone. The woman suddenly reached behind her and pulled out a gun. Ladybug and Chat both froze, sharing a glance.

Ladybug tried to calm her down, but the woman shot at the heroine, who froze with wide eyes. Chat abandoned any 'I'm not reckless' gloating he had planned and leapt in front of her, wincing as the bullet tore through his flesh. The woman's eyes widened as she ran. Chat Noir slumped down, breathing heavily and smiling up at his Lady, who was crying as she pulled his head onto her lap. The bullet, since Chat was somewhat taller, landed in his chest. He lay in Ladybug's lap until he felt the familiar sensation of death, and then pulled her closer and lay a gentle kiss on her lips.

When Chat was revived, Ladybug kissed him so hard his lips were tingly for minutes and his face was as red as her suit.

The eighth time, Chat Noir didn't think much of it when he took the water bottle from the citizen, taking a few long chugs of the liquid. It had a somewhat off taste, but he chalked it up to one of those flavorings people put in water due to his sleep deprived state . He thanked the man, who nodded and walked off. The hero didn't see him grin and slip into a nearby alley and talk into his phone before slipping into the shadows. His mission was done. Chat felt somewhat off around half an hour later, but chalked it up to nerves due to his early patrol and soon photoshoot. Chat had finished the whole water bottle by the time he was on that day's patrol.

He knew something was wrong when he kneeled over during patrol, his legs not seeming to work. He soon vomited, bile and his lunch splattered on the roof. It coated the inside of his irritated, sore feeling mouth and throat. His stomach churned, seeming to almost burn as he vomited once again, bringing up mostly bile. He coughed violently, splattering his hand with crimson. He winced. He wasn't even phased by the sight of his own blood anymore, after seven and soon to be eight deaths. He curled up on his side as the pain intensified. He eventually vomited blood, and once again it turned black.

When he came back he swallowed his tears and headed to the bakery. He sat with Marinette and talked while eating some of her macarons. He didn't tell her he'd died, instead choosing to talk about school work and their recent akumas. The two had discovered their identities after his seventh death. The thought of his most recent one made guilt fill his stomach. He tried not to think about it. He'd just be extra cautious and then he could live on his ninth life. Have a family with Marinette, defeat Hawkmoth. Everything they'd ever wanted.

The two spent the rest of their night gazing at the stars and kissing softly, enjoying each other's company. Chat still felt guilty.

The ninth one came faster than he had wanted it to. He was age twenty and finally, finally he was unmasking Hawkmoth. The battle had been going well so far, they'd manage to find his layer and corner him, but he was still fighting. Ladybug had a large gash on her forehead and her suit was ripped and torn, revealing a large bruise. Chat wasn't much better, a large slash down the side of his arm. He wanted to finish this once and for all. He knew where the Miraculous was, if he could just corner Hawkmoth and take it, they could reveal his identity. He rushed forward, aiming to toss the man to the ground.

Suddenly, something was stabbed through his chest and yanked out with a wet squishy sound. He fell to his knees, and then to the ground. Ladybug screamed his name and raced forward. Chat, with a shaking hand, took off his ring. Magic washed over him, revealing his citizen identity. He opened Ladybug's palm and pressed his ring into her hand. Hawkmoth couldn't get it, no matter what. He smiled at her as she sobbed, pressing her free hand over her mouth. He leaned her closer and kissed her one last time before falling limp, eyes glazed and heart still.

Ladybug stood, not bothering to wipe her tears. If Chat gave her the ring, she knew this was his last life. She looked at Hawkmoth with pure rage and disgust. "Is this what you wanted," she choked out, more tears spilling from her eyes. Hawkmoth stared at the man's body with wide, horrified eyes and choked out his name. He stumbled forward and Ladybug took the opportunity to snap the butterfly Miraculous from around his neck, revealing Gabriel Agreste. She wasn't even shocked, she just handed him over. What was the point? Adrien was gone. Chat was gone. She glanced down at the ring. Her partner was gone.

Every Chat Noir has nine lives, she thought as she watched her newest partner spring into action. And every Ladybug has one. And yet he was gone before her. A faint, sad smile tugged the corners of her lips. I miss you, you stupid cat.