Work Text:
The magical ladybugs fly over the city, cleaning up the damage of the fight. It’d mostly been confined to a singular warehouse - the victim being a disgruntled employee of said warehouse - and Chat can’t take his eyes off of the sight.
It really is miraculous.
The previously destroyed lights come back, and turn on, flooding the interior with light.
A distressed squeak brings his attention back to his partner, who is slightly bent over, hands covering her face.
He walks over to her, “You good, Bug?”
She waves him off, eyes still shut, “Yeah, yeah, juss… lights. Wasn’ ready…”
That… makes sense. He hates to be clingy, but he can’t shake the sense that something is wrong. It could be due to her slurred speech, but he’s just got this feeling.
After all, he’s well aware she doesn’t always have the best sleep schedule. Sometimes, especially for later-in-the-day akumas like this one, her speech isn’t as professional as she likes.
“Alright.”
She had gotten hit pretty bad during the battle. Not that she’d said anything, but her delayed reactions had been enough to clue him in.
Maybe she had a bit of a headache left over? He’d had that before, or just plain soreness.
The outside is darker, and she eventually looks up at him.
Er- she looks near him, rather. Her eyes are looking at the right height, but she seems to be looking slightly to his side, though she can’t seem to decide where he is exactly. She seems to settle on what must be the middle, which is still slightly off.
The concerned feeling only grows.
“You good, LB?” he asks again, cocking his head slightly. This throws her off, as she tries to keep meeting his eyes.
“Yeah… ‘m fffii- gooodd…” she mumbles.
“Let’s head out then. It’s late, we should probably rest.” He turns, pretending to be focusing on using his staff to get to the rooftops, when he’s actually keeping an eye on her.
She nods, which seems to be a mistake. Immediately, her hand moves to her head, and she looks about ready to fall over.
She’s either really sleep deprived, or something is wrong.
“You’re looking a little dizzy there,” he comments.
“Juss…” she pauses, seeming to gather herself, “I’m fine. Just tired.”
The words take an immense effort and he frowns. She seems to notice his suspicion, and hurriedly swings her yo-yo to bring herself to the roof. He’s right behind her.
She’s clearly unbalanced, whether from whatever is going on or her rushed landing.
He puts a gentle hand on her back to steady her, leading her farther from the edge.
“Okay, so I think we both know I don’t believe you.”
She glares.
“Prove it. Just walk to the other side of the roof, in a straight line,” he gestures at the flat space before them.
She does it, though she mumbles something along the lines of ‘not drunk’. He ignores her and watches her walk. Or, rather, her attempt to.
She’s stumbling slightly, and there’s no way that she’d be able to make it across the rooftops if she’s struggling so much with what should be an easy task.
“Ladybug…”
The heroine huffs, turning to him and raising an eyebrow under the mask. The look she’s giving him would typically be enough to make him back off, but not tonight.
He opens his baton, walking over to her as he types a simple sentence into it.
He turns it to her, “Can you read this?”
Ladybug looks at it. She keeps looking. She squints. She grabs it to hold it further, then closer, then turns to him, “Y’rrrr sc’eeenn is bl’rrrryy.”
“No. No it isn’t. What happened?” He rests a hand on her shoulder.
She purposefully won’t meet his eyes, “N’thin’...”
“My lady, you must have gotten hurt before the fight. Maybe when you got hit earlier it made it worse?” He knows she doesn’t like bringing up her civilian side, or showing weakness, and it’s the best explanation he can think of.
She pauses, clearly conflicted, “No.”
Alright then. He’ll get to the bottom of this.
“Do you know what happened?”
“Ye- c’ncusssioonnn’...”
That… that makes sense.
“When did that happen?” They’d had a fight just a few days ago, and she’d been fine.
“...fighttt…”
“You got in a fight?!” That didn’t sound like her at all.
“Nnno!” she shakes her head quickly, shaking her hands to indicate that wasn’t the case. She seems to become dizzy, and it takes some time for her to continue, “...’kuuumma.”
“What?” He’d seen her get hit, but he’d also seen the cure. Everything should be fixed, “That doesn’t make sense. The cure-”
Ladybug tenses slightly at the word, and he looks at her critically.
She’s standing stiffly, not meeting his eyes. She’s chewing on her lip, a nervous habit he’s noticed from their over one year of partnership.
“Ladybug.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Ladybug. What’s going on?” He doesn’t raise his voice, or even let any emotion in. He just says it flatly, doing his best to imitate her Look™.
“N’thinnn’... ‘t’sss ss’upid…” she slurs, “Doesss’n madderrr…”
“Ladybug.”
Nothing.
“Why didn’t the cure heal you?”
She still won’t meet his eyes. He’s got a sinking feeling in his chest.
Chat doesn’t like this. Not at all.
He grabs both of her shoulders and turns her to look at him, he lowers his voice to speak softer, “Ladybug. Please. I’m worried.”
Oh that does it. She looks so guilty, and mumbles something he can’t catch.
“What was that?”
“Cure doess’n worr’ on me. Neverrr hasss.”
Never.
The cure has never worked on her.
This whole time.
Every. Single. Fight.
Every injury.
…
She mistakes his silence as something negative, “I jusss’ didn’ wan’ worrrry you. ‘M fi-”
He tightens his grip on her shoulders to cut her off. “No. No you’re not.”
“Juss’ a c’ncusssioonnn’.... ‘ve ha’ worsssse…”
“That’s my issue,” he says firmly, “This whole time, every battle. Have people been asking questions in your civilian life?”
Her silence is enough of an answer for him.
“Oh, Bugaboo, I know you didn’t want to worry me, but you should have told me. I could have-”
She shakes her head lightly, ‘Nuthin’ youuu… ‘ann dooo…”
“Still.”
They’ll just have to agree to disagree for now.
“There’s no way I can let you go across the city like this. But with identities…”
She gives him a look.
Alright. He can’t take her home, and she can’t come to his house.
Or… can he? After Mom’s disappearance, Father had all but shut down the rest of the mansion except for the eight or so rooms they still used regularly. The place is huge, and no one goes to most of those places.
He’d just been to one of Mom’s old sitting rooms, looking for a quieter place to just rest. It felt like home, and reminded him or her.
It was one of the few places in the building that didn’t feel like a cold, dead, prison.
“You’re going to have to trust me on this Bug.”
She nods immediately, which makes his heart soar. That look she gave him when he implied she wouldn’t trust him… Kwami, she’s amazing.
“Alright, get on my back, then close your eyes,” he instructs.
After some struggle, he’s got a bundle of Bug on his back. Her arms and legs wrap around to his front, and he’s well aware she’s strong enough to hold herself up.
“Ready? Eyes closed?” he checks.
She hums softly into his ear from where her head sits. She’s tired, poor bug.
He knows his way along the rooftops by now, and soon enough the mansion is in sight.
Ladybug’s inability to hide her concussion was probably from a lack of sleep, if the way she is already half asleep is anything to go by.
Honestly, only his partner could fall asleep while being carried across the rooftops of Paris while still holding on securely.
Chat locates the window to the sitting room, entering silently, and shutting it behind him.
He sets his partner down on the couch, carefully extracting himself from her arms. She frowns.
He gives her hand a squeeze, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Once in the hallway, he whispers, “Claws In.”
Plagg floats beside Adrien, “You did good kid. She got hit pretty bad.”
“Yeah. I’m going to get a blanket. She’d probably want some water. Oh! And ibuprofen! Do you think a pillow would be good too?”
Plagg snickers, “There’s already pillows in there, but my bets are on you.”
“What?”
“I’d bet my camembert you’ll be her pillow of choice.”
Adrien’s face reddens, and he decides he should really get that blanket.
When he returns, carrying a soft blanket, ibuprofen, and a glass of water, he transforms and enters the room once more as quietly as he can. He’s careful to lock the door.
Ladybug hasn’t moved from where he left her on the couch. Her arms and legs are partially off the couch, and her pigtails are loose and messy. She looks like she might be drooling a little.
She’s absolutely gorgeous.
He doesn’t realize that he’s purring lightly until Ladybug begins to stir, “Cha’?”
She props herself up slightly, glancing his way blearily and shaking her pigtails loose. When that doesn’t work, she just wills the ribbons away, letting her disheveled hair fall around her shoulders,
She is positively angelic.
Utterly radiant.
He snaps back to reality.
Hurrying over to her, he holds out the water and ibuprofen, “I got you some water, and ibuprofen.
She smiles at him gratefully, taking both. When she sets the water aside, she turns to where he’s crouching beside the couch.
She seems confused, and pats the spot beside her.
He can hear Plagg cackling in his mind.
“Y’ neee’ resss’ tooo…” she manages. She’s probably trying to avoid speaking with how she’s slurring.
“Alright, alright,” he huffs, faking being bothered. Chat throws the blanket over both of them, and Ladybug leans into his shoulder.
Plagg was right. Of course.
He takes her yo-yo off her, because there’s no way that would be comfortable to sleep with. He takes off his baton as well, setting it to wake him up in about five hours, and then placing it next to the yo-yo.
Ladybug is already out, which is probably for the best seeing as she wasn’t in great shape. He hugs her lightly, and pulls the blanket around her tighter.
He rests his eyes momentarily, this is nice. As he falls asleep, he slides downward, unable to stay sitting up. Ladybug falls with him.
By the time they wake up, they’re cuddled together, her head under his chin. Both have their arms wrapped around their partner.
It’s a good night.