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“I’ve got a plan, kitty! Buy me some time!”
Chat Noir sprinted at the Akumatized citizen and dropped into a slide at the last minute, easily passing between their legs to whack them in the back of the knees with his baton before dashing back out of reach. The person, now going by the name Acroblast, had been a daredevil planning to launch themselves out of a cannon to crash through a target hanging from the bottom of the Eiffel Tower. Their stunt had been cancelled thanks to Bob Roth’s interference, and now Chat Noir and Ladybug were dealing with a five-meter-tall beast with a cannon for an arm.
But everything was going to be okay because his lady had a plan.
He just had to buy her some time.
“Maybe it’s a good thing your little show got cancelled,” Chat Noir taunted, drawing Acroblast’s attention away from a screaming civilian who hadn’t evacuated in time. “You can’t seem to hit the broad side of anything with that thing.”
Acroblast gave an inarticulate roar and scooped up a chunk of broken pavement to shove in their cannon, firing it in Chat Noir’s direction. He gave an un-catlike yelp and dropped down just in time to duck the projectile.
Right. Acroblast had the power to fire whatever they wanted out of that cannon.
Long distance attacks were definitely not a good idea.
He ran towards the monster again and feinted toward the ground, like he meant to slide between their legs again, but used his baton to spring up to land on their shoulder instead when Acroblast swiped at him. Chat Noir spun in place and cracked a few blows against the Akumatized performer’s head, for what little good it did, then planted one end of his staff on their shoulder to flip safely out of reach.
He didn’t quite make it. A massive hand caught his leg as he jumped, and then he was swung through the air to be slammed against the theatre marquee. Chat Noir’s breath was knocked out of his body, and he went limp as Acroblast released him, crashing to the broken sidewalk in front of the theater. Ears ringing, vision spotty, he managed to roll to the side as an enormous foot came down toward him.
He still had his baton and used it to launch himself up and away as Acroblast grabbed for him again. One hand holding his baton, the other cradling his aching ribs, Chat Noir aimed for the taller buildings closer to the riverside. There were more places to hide there, better vantage points for a counterattack.
Something large and heavy caught him across the back, knocking him out of his leap and back to the ground. Bits of concrete scattered around him as he landed, from whatever chunk of detritus Acroblast had fired at him. Chat Noir groaned and tried to climb to his feet, to run, to move, anything, but the muscles in his back seized up when he tried. The suit would have protected him from the worst of the damage, but it could only do so much in the face of something like this.
He flipped on his communicator as he managed to stagger up to his knees. “Uh…you joining us again soon, Milady?”
“Almost there. Just keep him distracted a little while longer.”
“Distracted. Right.” He tried to laugh but had to choke back a cough when his breath caught in his chest, closing the communicator before Ladybug could question him. Forcing his aching body to stand again, he slowly turned to face the advancing bulk of Acroblast.
“Round two?” he suggested wearily, spinning his baton with more confidence than he felt. Acroblast was shoving a twisted hunk of metal that used to be the front of a city bus into their cannon, and Chat Noir let out a few choice expletives (that Adrien Agreste was definitely not allowed to say) before he had to dodge out of the way of the incoming blast.
“Hey! Public transportation is an important part of our civic infrastructure!” he shouted, extended his staff to vault in a graceful arc that would have taken him up and over Acroblast’s head, had he not cut his momentum at exactly the right moment to drop onto the monster’s forehead. Chat Noir grabbed onto the exaggerated lock of hair that extended out from under Acroblast’s dark purple cowl and swung himself down and around to make a rude gesture right in front of the creature’s left eye.
Acroblast roared in fury and brought a hand up to swat Chat Noir away, but he was already gone. Up and over the dome of the monster’s head, leaping from Acroblast’s shoulders to the roof of a nearby building. He didn’t stay there for long, keenly aware that there could be civilians taking shelter inside the building. Instead, he gave a sharp whistle, catching Acroblast’s attention, then dove off the building before the Akumatized citizen could bring his cannon around.
Then he was running again. He heard the roar behind him, and launched himself up into the air with his baton just as another volley of broken asphalt was fired in his direction. He wasn’t quite fast enough, and a few chunks of detritus peppered his leg and side, throwing off his balance so that he hit the ground rather than landing on it. Chat Noir tried to roll to his feet, but Acroblast was already on top of him. The monster swiped at him and he scrambled away, barely avoiding being caught up in that massive hand.
“Chat Noir? You there?”
“Here as always, Milady,” he panted, dodging behind an advertisement for the latest Gabriel trend. “How’s the plan coming?”
“I’m ready for you. Can you lead them back to the Eiffel Tower?”
He peeked around the advertisement to stare at the tall, elegant structure nearly half a kilometer behind Acroblast’s raging form. He could feel his ears drooping at the thought of retracing his steps that far, with a rampaging monster right on his tail.
“Chat Noir?”
“Yeah, no problem.” He forced his voice to sound more optimistic than he felt. “Be there in two shakes of a kitten’s tail!” Chat Noir closed his communicator before Ladybug could say another word, not wanting to worry her more than he had to. Taking a deep breath, he sprinted out of cover and in a wide arc around Acroblast, aiming to get behind the monster without getting in their grabbing range.
He spotted an opening when Acroblast was temporarily off-balance and spun into a sharp turn, ducking between the monster’s legs and rapping them on the back with his baton as he ran by. “Tag! You’re it!”
Acroblast roared and swung at him. Chat Noir managed to duck most of the blow, but the massive hand glanced off his back and sent him tumbling and sprawling. He picked himself back up, feeling very un-catlike, but a sharp pain in his left leg had him crumbling to the ground again.
Their suits were impervious to damage, but their bodies weren’t—and his was taking a beating today. He forced himself to his feet, telling himself the pain definitely wasn’t a broken ankle, and a quick thrust from his baton launched him up and forward toward the tower.
The monster was following him. He managed to find a steady rhythm that favored his injured leg, keeping him moving back toward the tower and just out of Acroblast’s reach. Moving in a straight line like this was a risk, but he was running out of strength and time and still had so far to go.
He heard the familiar sound of Acroblast loading their arm-cannon and swerved to the side. He was met with a barrage of loose bricks that Acroblast had scooped up from a collapsed wall. Chat Noir tried to dodge them, to deflect, but his reflexes were too slow and several of the bricks got through his guard to pummel his injured body.
He went down again, baton sliding out of his hand as his shoulder cracked against the broken pavement. Tried to roll back up to his feet but his body wasn’t cooperating.
The monster roared again, and Chat Noir looked up just in time to see them fire another chunk of debris straight at him. Too fast for him to dodge in his weakened state, too big for him to deflect even if he’d had his baton.
“Cataclysm!”
He thrust out his right hand, catching the biggest piece of debris before it could crush him into Chat Pâté. It crumbled to dust, but there were countless smaller pieces that had been caught in the blast. He curled up with his arms over his head, shielding himself as best he could, but bits of rubble still struck his body with bruising force.
His vision was hazy, his ears ringing. He hurt so much that he wasn’t sure he could move again.
But the tower, and his lady, were still so far away.
He had to get up. Had to keep running. Ladybug was waiting with her plan to stop the Akuma. She’d be able to fix everything, including his broken body.
A shadow suddenly loomed over him, and he was scooped up by a monstrous hand. Acroblast held Chat Noir close to their face for a long moment, while he struggled in vain to free himself, before stuffing the hero into the cannon that had replaced their right hand.
Chat Noir didn’t have time to react, to warn Ladybug, to prepare himself for a rough landing before he was fired out of the cannon. Arcing through the air, the force of the blast sending pain ricocheting through his battered body, he could do little more than squeeze his eyes shut as the ground rushed toward him.
He…bounced?
He cracked his eyes open just enough to see the crisscrossed yo-yo strings weaving back and forth between the Eiffel Tower’s legs, cushioning his fall, and then Ladybug was there. She plucked him out of the makeshift safety net, tucked him close to her (strong, safe) body, and swung them both out of danger.
“Oh, Kitty-cat,” she murmured. She gently lowered him to the ground in a sheltered alcove, out of sight of Acroblast’s rampage. “You’re hurt.”
He reached up to pat her cheek, but she caught his hand before he could poke her in the eye. “’M all right.”
“No, you’re not,” she argued. She held his hand close to her chest, eyes squeezed shut. “But you did it. You brought him to the tower. I can take it from here.”
Before he could protest, she’d kissed the back of his hand and dashed away. He heard Acroblast roar, heard Ladybug’s voice raised in a scornful taunt.
His ring beeped. There was nothing more he could do. “Claws…claws in,” he gasped, gritting his teeth against the pain as the transformation was stripped away.
Plagg tumbled out of the ring as the world shifted into a sharper focus. Pain raced up Adrien’s body, and he curled into himself with a sharp cry. Every ache and bruise were amplified now that the suit’s magic had been taken away, and his head spun as he realized just how injured he was.
“Kid!” Plagg tugged on his ear. “Adrien! You’ve gotta change back!”
He coughed into his sleeve, ignoring the way his lungs felt like they were full of fragments of glass, and nodded. Adrien fumbled for the pocket in his jacket where he kept Plagg’s cheese, but the kwami knocked his hand out of the way and dove in himself. “You’re bleeding.”
There must be blood on the cheese. “Sorry, Plagg,” he whispered.
Plagg floated up, indignation written clearly across his tiny face, wedge of camembert clutched between his paws. “Why are you humans so self-destructive?” he whined. “It’s not the cheese, you moron, it’s you. The blood’s supposed to stay on the inside, you know.”
Adrien didn’t reply, too busy trying to keep the rest of his insides on the inside. Nausea was rising in his gut as the world spun around him, and he was pretty sure several concussions were warring with a few broken ribs as to who could make him puke first.
“Ready!” Plagg announced, whiskers still flecked with the remnants of cheese. “Hurry up!”
He nodded. “Claws…ugh…out.”
The transformation back into Chat Noir dulled some of the pain to a more tolerable level. He was nowhere near recovered but at least he’d gotten his baton back, and he used that to maneuver himself into a more comfortable position sitting against the nearby wall. There were more explosions at the base of the tower, another roar from Acroblast, a shout of triumph from Ladybug.
Then silence. Chat Noir held very still, ears straining. Silence was good, right? Acroblast hadn’t stopped roaring and stomping since they’d powered up.
Was it all right? Was the fight over? Was it safe—
“Miraculous ladybugs!”
A spiral of red filled the sky, and Chat Noir slumped back against the wall of the alcove as Ladybug’s purifying magic washed over him, wiping away the injuries he’d sustained in his fight with Acroblast. It was always a little odd—his injuries would be healed, but his brain would still be convinced he was hurt. He’d deal with phantom aches for a little while, until his mind could adjust to the face that he was not, in fact, about to die from internal bleeding.
“Chat Noir!” Ladybug ran into view, worry written all over her lovely features. “Are you all right?”
“Couldn’t be better, Milady,” he replied, trying to jump up to his feet to give her a gallant bow. His left knee nearly gave out when he stood, and for a split second he worried that he’d taken too much damage in the fight for the ladybugs to heal.
Then his lady was catching him, wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him up. “Maybe you should take it slow.”
“Yeah…maybe.” He leaned his head against hers, and it was a sure sign of how worried she was that she didn’t pull away. “Well, you did it again, Milady. Day saved.”
“We did it,” she corrected, holding up a fist.
He grinned, bumping her fist with his, the tension in his shoulders fading as his legs started to grow steadier. “Think I’ll skip the stunt show and just head home, if that’s all the same to you.”
Ladybug snorted. “Definitely. I’ve seen enough flying cats to last me a lifetime.”
Her tone was teasing, but he didn’t miss the way her arm tightened around him. Chat Noir wrapped an arm around her shoulders, returning her embrace. “You and me both.”