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Chat Noir didn't know how long he and his Lady had been locked up for, but it surely had to be at least the better part of a week.
“Crimes against the city," the stern-faced man had said as he dragged them, restrained, into a cell. “Breaking and entering. Theft and robbery.”
Well, they had been caught stealing jewels from an exhibition. They would have gotten away with it, if not for the extra security that had been installed—the laser beams had not been present when they scouted out the place two nights prior. Clearly someone had believed there would be people after the valuables on display for a limited time only.
Of all the heists the infamous duo had carried out, this was the one that had required the most careful planning. There were guards to deceive, false identities to create (as if they didn't have enough alternate identities already).
But it had gone wrong. They had been found out, whether by an accident, or by the guards being on edge and expecting, or by something completely different, they didn't know.
By any matter, the two had ended up being swarmed by guards.
Ladybug had been unconscious for hours. When she had started to stir, guards had barged in and dragged her to the cell next door. There was a peephole between the walls; apart from that they were closed in by solid yellowing concrete.
Four days ago, in hope of escape Chat Noir had used cataclysm on the wall that faced away from Ladybug.
There had been another one behind. Brick. As strong as the first one, if not thicker. He had almost sobbed in despair, kicking and screaming at the wall until his knuckles were peppered with bruises and his toes stung, as the pawprints on his ring counted down in flashing green.
Plagg had spoken in his mind—apparently that was possible in dire situations—and told him that he could withstand his transformation for some time, even after the usual five minutes following his use of cataclysm. As long as Chat did nothing drastic and kept his movements slow and steady, he could survive transformed in a low-power mode of sorts.
Even so, he knew how hard it must be for Plagg. He had been transformed for days . That was way too long for a kwami to go without food and recharging.
Chat Noir's glove flickered, and he didn't know if he had imagined it but it temporarily flashed to the light skin and perfect nails (demanded by the modelling industry) of Adrien's hand. It was almost like he was glitching back to his civilian form. It was then that he decided he needed to detransform right now, taking this as a cue from Plagg that it was too much.
Upon his survey of the small room he deemed that there were no security cameras, or so he damn well hoped. If word was to get out that prim, proper model Adrien Agreste flaunted across the rooftops by night stealing valuables accompanied by a red-spotted girl, there would be riots.
What he had failed to notice was that somehow the men had entered the room the exact moment Ladybug came into consciousness. How else would they have known if not for a camera hidden somewhere?
Chat sighed, crouched down, and muttered. "Plagg, claws in."
Suddenly his familiar jeans, jacket and t-shirt were back, and it felt like a weight had been lifted. He took a shuddering breath in. Plagg looked worse. The kwami had fallen to the ground after being released, and now lay on the floor, groaning.
"Plagg!!" Adrien cried, wishing he had caught the kwami before he hit the floor. "I'm so sorry you had to do that, but thank you so much… I didn't know it was possible."
"Anytime, kid," Plagg croaked, looking dishevelled.
"Wait-" Adrien said, fishing in his jacket pocket and finding the bingo—a slice of camembert. “Here you go, sorry it’s all I have… I wasn’t expecting this to happen.” At the pungent scent of the cheese, Plagg's nose twitched, and he practically devoured it all too quickly.
"Sorry I don't have any more," Adrien apologised. Plagg closed his eyes, exhausted.
He could transform and cataclysm the next wall. But he didn't know what would be behind—another wall, guards? Plus he had no more cheese for Plagg; he decided to be very mindful of how he was treating his kwami, as he had just been through a taxing ordeal.
Besides, he didn't want to risk Ladybug in case debris came from the wall, or if she was punished for his escape. Anyhow, he couldn’t leave her behind. Wouldn’t leave her behind.
"Milady, are you there?" Chat tried tentatively.
Her voice came quietly but promptly, as if she had been waiting for him to speak. "Sorry we didn't get it, Chaton." She sounded wistful, as if speaking through the mask of old tears.
"Don't worry, Buginette. We 'll get out of this one."
She murmured something indiscernible.
“Um, did you detransform?” Chat asked, thinking she would probably be in the same situation as him.
“Yes,” she said in a defeated tone, one that saddened his heart. “Unless the lucky charm was a stick of dynamite, which it wouldn’t have been, I don’t see how it would have helped us escape a locked cell. I couldn’t force Tikki to hold my transformation any longer than she had… I detransformed yesterday.” She sighed. “What about you, Minou?”
“Same with me. I did try to use cataclysm, but there was another wall behind. I don’t have any more cheese to feed my kwami, and even with the added time boost he gave me after using my power, I had to detransform for his sake.”
“Time boost?”
“He spoke to me, in my head. Said even after using cataclysm he could keep me transformed. It would use a lot of energy, but he could do it. I said fine. No one can know who I am. But I had to stop being unfair to Plagg; he was running out of energy.”
“Mm,” her voice drifted back. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
Suddenly Adrien thought of the peephole there was between the walls. “Ladybug… can you come to the peephole? You don’t have to show your whole face to me, obviously… I just want to see your eyes.” He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I feel so alone… like in my civilian life. Being with you, it’s my escape.” He trailed off, swallowing.
“Oh, Chat…” Ladybug sniffled. “I’d like to see you too. Come to the peephole.”
He heard a shuffle as she moved closer, and he eagerly reciprocated the action.
“Okay, I’m here,” he said, as he positioned his eyes over the rectangularly shaped hole, seeing an exact mirror of his cell through the small gap.
And then so was she, taking his breath away with large eyes looking back at him, a strand of dark hair sweeping down the side of her face.
“You’re so beautiful, Milady,” Chat smiled, a joyful tear building up in his eye at the first time seeing someone in days. And he was so glad it was her to break this vigil.
She tilted her head down, a blush spreading over the part of her cheek he could see, blinking in happiness. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s good to see your face… at least, part of it.” Adrien’s lip quivered; he looked around his cell, taking in for the hundredth time the cup and plate that had been pushed through a flap in the door, the small cracks in the brown ceiling, the musty floor with the small mattress he slept on.
He stole another glance through the hole. His Lady’s brilliant blue eyes were there to meet him.
As they always would be.
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“Sugarcube?” Plagg rasped. Adrien turned his head to where the kwami lay; he hadn't noticed him waking up.
“I’m here, Prince, I’m here,” Tikki squealed, voice muffled through the wall. And then a dot of bright white light appeared on the wall, a tiny red head emerged, and she was there.
They were on each other in an instant—Plagg zipping through the air in a short dark burst, crashing into Tikki and wrapping her in a massive hug. They spun round and round in the air, a blur of red and black and for a second Adrien caught his kwami's green gaze, full of pure bliss. Even in this situation there could be happiness.
Adrien choked up.
Ladybug’s laughter sounded through the peephole, bright and cheerful and filled with hope.