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Viperion heard Marinette—well, Ladybug, since he wasn’t supposed to know—tap down behind him for patrol, but his greeting died on his lips when he caught sight of her. She was barely holding herself up, instead leaning on a wall for support, and yawning like she was about to collapse any second.
“No," he said firmly, his face drawn into a hard frown, and he crossed his arms over his chest. She blinked at him as she struggled to comprehend.
"No?"
"Go home."
"But…" Her protest was cut off by another yawn. "What about patrol?"
"I'll handle it. We need to get you home safely first, though." He stepped forward to slip his arm under hers as she sagged on the wall, and she hid a sleep-deprived giggle behind her hand.
"Are you offering to go home with me?" She sighed as she nuzzled into his neck and he tried very hard not to think about what she was implying.
"No, I'm saying you need to…" He trailed off as he realized she'd passed out on his shoulder. Just like that. Her breathing was slow and heavy in his ear and she was quickly becoming dead weight as she relaxed. He sighed and scooped her knees up so he was holding her more securely. "Go home before you fall asleep standing up," he muttered.
Having her pooled in his arms like this, she seemed so small. He would never call her fragile, that’s not what Marinette was, but… vulnerable. That’s the word he was looking for. He clutched her to his chest. Only one thing for it. He had to get her home. Thankfully he knew where he was going, although he’d have to hope that she didn’t remember going out at all or there’d be an interesting conversation in his future about how he’d figured out who she was.
As he ran over the rooftops of Paris, doing his best not to jostle her, he couldn’t help but wish she’d said something before about being so worn out. He and Chat could’ve handled patrols a few extra nights if it meant she got some rest. He ran a list in his head of things she’d told him about, projects she was working on, Kitty Section practices, responsibilities for her class, full school days, there’d been more than usual akumas lately, which was why they’d started nightly patrols… Had she been sleeping at all? Three, maybe four hours a night?
He slowed to a stop and looked down at her sleeping against his chest. Her bangs were mussed, falling in her eyes, and her eyebrows were pulled together under her mask in an anxious frown. As he paused, she grumbled and hid her face more in his shoulder, shifting to curl against him. He silently thanked Sass for giving him enhanced strength; he was able to cradle her like this so easily. He would be able to hold her as long as he needed to get her home and into her own bed without his arms tiring or her weight slowing him down. But that also meant his pounding heart wasn’t due to the effort.
He tightened his grip on her and pushed on, towards the glowing beacon of her balcony. Although once he’d gotten close he realized there was a glaring problem. He’d come from the wrong direction. There wasn’t a rooftop he could use as a bridge this way, just the sheer drop to the street below. Shit.
He could go around? But scanning the skyline around him, there really wasn’t any way to get to her balcony without her yoyo. She was still transformed and he was pretty sure her parents didn’t know yet. So taking her through the bakery was out. And he was not waking her up. Not if he could help it, anyways.
He sighed. Maybe it was better this way, anyway. Ladybug already knew he was Viperion, so there wasn’t any risk of her finding out his identity if he took her back to the Liberty instead. There was just the small problem of letting the girl he loved sleep in his bed. No big deal.
He took a deep breath to try to calm himself. It really wasn’t a big deal. Marinette needed sleep. His bed was the best option. Easy.
And with his focus renewed, he turned away to start towards the Liberty instead. When he was street level, he detransformed as close as he possibly could while remaining hidden and Sass hid in the hood of his jacket. He adjusted Marinette to be higher on his chest, and in her sleep she threw an arm around his neck and tucked her nose into the hollow of his collarbone. But he didn’t have any time to focus on her breath fanning against his skin—without his suit, her relaxed weight was starting to sag, and his arms were already starting to complain. Quick and quiet, then.
He snuck aboard easily enough. But the stairs. He hadn’t thought about that. They were narrow and steep and there was no way he’d be able to maneuver her around the tight corners. But the atrium was right there, to the immense relief of his trembling biceps. He stumbled over and knelt to deposit her on the loveseat. It wasn’t as secluded as he would’ve hoped; if the Captain or Juleka had an urge for a midnight stroll above deck he was screwed. But he still sighed with relief as he sat on the floor next to her still-sleeping form and leaned his head back against the edge of the couch.
Patrol would have to wait. Sass had flown away to recharge anyways, and Luka was temporarily exhausted, too. He closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing, but found himself lulled into matching Marinette’s slow, even breathing behind him. He’d just be a minute.
He started awake when an arm draped across his chest. He was still sitting on the floor and from the stiffness of his neck and low back he’d been there at least an hour, maybe more. He glanced down and the arm around him wasn’t red with black spots, it was Marinette’s, recognizable from the pink band-aid she had wrapped around her index finger. He dared to turn his head to check on her.
She’d shifted while she slept, so his head was nestled into the crook of her neck as she curled towards him. Her face was so close to his and half-hidden because she had nuzzled into his hair as her cheek rested on his shoulder. She looked so at peace. So calm. That anxious frown was gone, replaced by a serene smile as she clutched him to her.
He settled back into place and sighed, not even bothering to hide his smile. No patrol tonight, and he’d be incredibly sore tomorrow, but it was so worth it to watch over her and make sure she got the sleep she needed. He let his eyes close again, humming her song to himself, and she answered him in her sleep, a small content note that made his heart flutter even as he drifted off.
Sometime during the night, he vaguely remembered feeling his weight being shifted, and a gloved hand brushing aside his bangs before there was a quick press of lips against his forehead.
When he woke with the sun early that next morning, he was on the loveseat and Marinette was gone. A note crinkled under his hand as he moved to push himself up.
‘We’ll talk later,’ it read, in Marinette’s loopy scrawl. Then, underneath that, in a more careful script, ‘Thank you for taking care of me.’
And she’d signed it with a heart.