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Jerking his leg away, Chat let out a low hiss. His claws scratched against the brick of the rooftop, scraping long marks across its surface.
The deep gash on his leg oozed. Bright red blood stained his thigh and the magic suit he wore.
“Sorry,” Ladybug mumbled.
“It’s okay. Keep going.”
Brilliant green eyes regarded her shaking hands, his breathing hitching as pain lanced through him. Tears rimmed her eyes, ready to soak through her mask. She blinked them back, a stray one breaking free.
“You’re doing fine, my Lady.” Loosening his hold on the brick, he reached out to cup her cheek. “This wasn’t your fault. I knew the Cure wouldn’t fix me when I pushed you out of danger, but I did it anyway. I’d do it again and again as long as you remain safe. You’re all that matters to me.”
The dam broke. Tears cascaded past her mask and onto her cheeks, traveling further. Fat drops dripped from her chin and soaked through the top of her magic suit. They stung the scraps along her cheek and neck where rubble from the collapsing building had struck her.
“You matter to me, Chat.” She swiped at her tears, a wasted effort as they continued to fall. “You can’t keep doing this for me. It hurts too much seeing you like this.”
She picked up a new swab and eyed his wound. The oozing had slowed, but the deepness promised stitches. Taking a breath, she continued her earlier cleaning, ridding it of debris.
“I can stitch it if it’s too much,” he whispered before his teeth sank into his lip. Another low hiss cut off his next words as his eyes slammed shut, sparing her their haunting green glow. His hand to his side, his claws digging into his palm.
She had no intention of letting him down, determination steeling her nerves and calming her shaking hand. Chat Noir had saved her life, and she’d be damned if she let him handle any wound care on his own.
“I’ve got it.” She set aside the swab and picked up the needle and thread she’d found in the first aid kit. “I do wish we had found a more sterile environment. This could get infected, Chat.”
“I’ll be fine, my Lady. Just do what you need to do.”
She threaded the needle and leaned in to better inspect her next task. Tossing him a final glance, she whispered, “I’m so, so sorry, Chaton, but this is going to hurt.”
He flashed her a half-hearted grin. “It’s okay. I trust you, my Lady.”
The next half-hour would feel like an eternity for them both.