Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She wasn’t at her best. 

The worst of her days were better than this.

An hour into their battle, and he hadn’t been thrown across the city once. He hadn’t been tied up with her yo-yo string, nor had she managed to land a single punch on him. And it wasn’t like he’d been trying very hard to avoid them either.

This hellish heat wave must have gotten to her, but really? How could such a smart, brave, and beautiful person let a few days of extreme temperatures make her so vulnerable?

“My Lady.” Chat Noir stopped, yawned ceremonially, and side-glanced at his opponent. “I feel like you’re being paw-fully soft on me today. Have you finally fallen for this feline?”

“You wish,” Ladybug seethed through her teeth and charged his way. “You’ll be the one to fall—”

“Already have.” He winked and smoothly jumped out of her way. 

“In a battle! At my hand! To your doom!”

"Awww. You're so cute, my Lady." He dodged easily again. Then, darted right back to her side, took her hand, and planted a kiss on her knuckles. "Just let us make one wish and we'll give you back your earrings. Is that too meow-ch to ask for?"

She snatched her hand back, pushing him away. “You have no idea what kind of—”

"—price a wish comes with?" He rolled his eyes, easily sidestepping her next rather pathetic few attacks. Seriously, what was wrong with her today? His three-year-old nephew was a tougher opponent. Granted, the kid had Kagami Tsurugi for a mother and Félix Graham de Vanily for a father, but still. 

“Exactly! You don’t—”

“Yes, I know, I know. You’ve told me multiple times already. I get it. But I’ll be the one paying the price, so what’s it to you and everyone else? You all will be just fine.”

She breathed heavily, grabbing at a nearby chimney. “Do you really think that whatever you two decided to wish for will affect only you? You can’t seriously be that naïve.”

Chat cocked his head to the side. “What’s there to be naïve about? It’s a straight exchange. Nothing complicated.”

Ladybug shook her head, closing her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose, grimacing. 

A few deep breaths later, she looked at him with eyes so glassy, Chat wasn't sure she actually saw anything in front of her. "Even if it's a straight exchange like you keep repeating, there is no way to know how it will affect countless others—" 

She crumbled to her knees.

Chat held his breath, frowning. “Ladybug?”

“Stay away,” she whispered, grabbing her head and groaning. “Ugh! Don’t—come any…closer or I…”

Something was seriously wrong. He took a cautionary step closer. “Ladybug, is everything—”

“No!” She pushed herself up, froze, and crumbled again.

Into Chat Noir’s arms, this time around.

“Hey!” He shook her slightly. “This isn’t funny. Wake up.”

Not a single muscle in her body moved.

“I’m going to take your earrings if you don’t.”

She remained still.

“Ladybug, I’m serious,” Chat whispered. “At least open your eyes or something. You’re about to lose the reality you’ve fought me for years to keep.”

Her chest rose and fell erratically. At least she breathed. That was a good sign, right?

“Ladybug?”

Dang!

He bit on his lip and looked around, cradling her limp figure to his chest. He could take her earrings and end their perpetual strife this very instant. But! He could leave her be, and they would continue meeting on a battlefield once or twice a week, more often during the holidays. Though, that option would only be possible if Father hadn't sent an akuma to help him out yet. 

Chat Noir could lie to his father; an akuma couldn’t. 

He squinted his eyes, checking out the farthest and the darkest of corners his sight could reach.

No one was around. Not even a random passerby, which made complete sense: Ladybug and Chat Noir's fights weren't exactly damage-free, and if there was no akuma—which there often was not—there was no lucky charm, meaning that if someone were to get caught in the middle and get hurt, they'd have to go to a hospital, rather than rely on the miracle cure to fix everything. After a few rather nasty cases, civilians had long gotten used to fleeing as far as possible when it was just the two of them, dancing along the Paris skyline.

“Fine, you win,” Chat whispered, carefully picking her up. “But only because there is no fun in defeating you if you make it so easy for me.”

He reached the outskirts of Paris in record time and soon was already climbing into one of those multiple investment properties that had stood empty for years, waiting to rise in value before they could be sold for a hefty profit. They were perfect for sneaking in for a catnap or two when Ladybug wasn't indulging him with her presence, but his father insisted he should be out there searching for an opportunity to take her miraculous, not waste time studying or working. 

Breaking and entering, you’d say?

Chat Noir was a villain. Those were the least of his crimes.

“This one has one of the nicest beds.” Chat grinned, kicking the door to the bedroom open. “Fluffy and huge. You’ll love it, my Lady.”

She was still unconscious and breathing heavily when he placed her on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed and a constellation of sweat beads was crowning her forehead. Her body trembled slightly and none of his attempts, including his threats to marry her, had brought her back to reality.

Based on her symptoms, Google said she was probably going to die in an hour or two. 

So, a trip to a doctor was probably a good idea. Only, there was no way that Chat Noir, a villain who, together with Hawkmoth, had been threatening the peace of Paris for almost a decade, could bring his unconscious archenemy, the hero of the aforementioned city, to a hospital. 

Threatening some random doctor into treating her it was then. 

"Give her this medicine three times a day. I already gave something for tonight, so start in the morning." The doctor, whom Chat yanked out of the nearest medical office, offered him a paper with a prescription on it. "She fainted from a mixture of a heat stroke, the virus that's been going around lately, and probably stress."

“Stress?” Chat quirked an eyebrow. “Why would she be stressed?”

The doctor cleared his throat and started to gather his equipment. “She should regain consciousness by the morning, but keep her in bed for at least a few days.”

“Got it.” Chat nodded, handing the man a blindfold. “Put this on. I’ll take you back. And remember, doc: a word of this to anyone, and you’re dead.”

The man scoffed, taking the blindfold. “As if anyone would believe me that you of all people would help her of all people.”

“Why not?” Chat smirked. “I can’t be a villain if my one and only enemy dies on me, now can I?” 

“She isn’t the only one who’s capable and hates you, you know. Paris—”

“Sure, sure.” Chat rolled his eyes. “You all may rise against me all you want. I could hardly care less.” 

Ladybug was the only one that actually mattered anyway. But a random doctor off the street didn't need to know that.

“Ready?” 

The man tightened his blindfold over his eyes and nodded. “I should probably mention that this virus is highly contagious. You might consider wearing a mask and—” 

“Already am wearing one.” Chat pointed to the mask over his face. “Now, hurry. I don’t have all day.”

The man sighed, looking like he was about to walk the plank. “Suit yourself. My job was to warn you.”

Neither of them said another word all the way back to the first metro station Chat had spotted. Can’t be a villain if you deliver the man you’d kidnapped back to his office, now can you? A villain would make it inconvenient for their victim and would force them to ride a metro at the time everyone else was getting ready for bed. 

And Chat Noir was a villain after all.

A very famous and vicious villain whom all of Paris hated. 

He stopped by the nearest grocery store as a civilian to grab some food because, unfortunately, empty investment apartments did not have a stocked fridge, and it looked like Chat Noir would be stuck in there for at least a few days. 

Got to make sure his enemy would recover properly to be able to fight him the next time they’d face off.

Ladybug lay in the bed just as motionlessly as when he’d left her there. Her face was still flushed, but her breathing was steadier already. Her fever eased a bit as well. 

Kidnapping the doctor was totally worth it.

The clock on the wall showed almost midnight. Not an issue. No one would notice if he didn’t come home tonight, but he’d need an excuse for not showing up for a few days.

“You’re so much trouble,” Chat murmured, heading for the kitchen. “And just so you know, I’m doing this only so you can get better sooner and we can resume our routine. It’s not because I really did fall for you, because I didn’t. Why would I? We’re enemies, right? And all of my confessions were just me trying to distract you. Not the actual truth. Father would skin me alive if I ever—”

Chat paused, swallowing. 

That wasn’t true. 

Father would never hurt him beyond repair. He needed him alive and healthy for the ritual, or at least that was what Chat had overheard him saying to Nooroo back when all of this had started (not that his father would ever admit to him himself that Chat Noir was a living sacrifice). Still, Father would not be pleased to learn that his son was in love with the girl who held his wife’s potential resurrection in her, well, ears and refused to hand them over.

He’d have to do it eventually, though. He’d have to stop stalling, and he’d have to take those earrings off her ears. But for now… 

For now, Chat put the food in the fridge, filled a bowl with water, and picked up a hand towel on his way back to the bedroom. 

“The Bastille weekend celebration is in a bit over a week. We’ll have to get you up and running by then.” 

She’d probably hate that he watched her sleep. It was creepy, even by his standards. 

“It wouldn’t be a holiday without you defeating the big bad villain, now would it?”   

She’d abhor that his fingers brushed against her forehead as he was placing the wet towel on her forehead. She’d hate it even if it was done for her good. 

“I can even be extra dramatic in my defeat if you want. Give people the show they deserve. How does that sound?”

And she would definitely despise him for holding her hand while he sat by her side all night long, listening to her breathing. 

But who cared?

He was a villain anyway and that… that was a crime he’d always dreamed of committing.

Chapter Text

She was cold. 

Very.

Extremely.

Excruciatingly cold.

Which was weird, because Paris was a week into one of the most brutal heat waves in history. She’d been suffering from a migraine and exhaustion for a few days already because of that. Though… exhaustion was probably more Chat Noir’s fault. He was a tough opponent to fight, even if he’d let her win more times than she could count. 

Which was weird too, because why would he—

Ugh!

Her head throbbed, sending burning chills down her body. 

It hurt. 

Like hell. 

Sleep. 

That was all that she wanted.

Despite the cold.

Her hand was warm, though. 

Warm and cozy and whoever covered only her hand with that soft blanket was a moron!  

Her whole body was freezing! Why would they cover only her hand? 

No matter. 

That could easily be corrected. 

She would just pull the blanket over her body herself.

“…bug?”

Fuck! 

Whoever was shouting into her ears while her head was splitting open… she’d kick them in their shins after. She had to warm herself and sleep off this… whatever this was, first. 

She pulled harder.

“Are you… I’m…nemy?”

“Shut up,” she groaned and turned away from the yelling idiot, pulling the blanket after herself.

It finally budged.

“As you wish.” 

The idiot’s conscience must have woken up because the next moment, the room was quiet again and the blanket was wrapped tightly around her body.

She’d never felt cozier. 

In pain. 

Unable to even open her eyes or talk. 

But finally warm and cozy and blissfully drifting back to sleep.

Chapter Text

He was rudely pushed out of the bed. 

And for no fault of his own!

He was actually decent enough to protest, but did she listen?!

“What?! How?! You!!!” Ladybug seethed through her teeth, barely keeping herself propped up on her elbows. “How dare you—”

“You dragged me into the bed yourself.” Chat grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Lies!" She tried to sit up but winced in pain and flopped back into the bed.

“The doctor told me to keep you in bed for a few days.” Chat got up and took a paper bag off the night table. “You’ve got some kind of virus, so you’ll need to take this medicine three times a day. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

She was squinting at the label on the medicine bottle when he came back. Her breathing looked normal, but from the way she strained her eyes as she tried to read, he figured she had quite a migraine.

“Are these drugs?” she asked, closing her eyes and letting the bottle fall into the sheets. “I’m not taking this.”

“If I wanted to kill you, don’t you think I would’ve done that already?”

She was too weak to even resist him helping her up to sit. Her spirit was just as strong, though. “Maybe you want this to look like a suicide? An accidental overdose?”

“And why would I bother?”

“Not to get implicated in my murder?”

"There was a doctor here last night. If I did decide to go the route you suggested, I'd have to take care of him. Maybe his family and a few of his colleagues at this point. Honestly, not worth it. So, here—" He took a pill out of the container and offered it to her with a glass of water. "Swallow this. I'll get you something to eat after."

She glared at him for what felt like an eternity, then, looked away, frowning. “Why are you doing this?”

Chat shrugged. “It’s fun. You and I. Our playdates. Why would I want this to end?”

“Playdates?! Are you seri—”

“Take your medicine.” He pushed the pill into her hand. “Or I’m taking your earrings.”

She flinched and grabbed the pill. “You’re lucky I can barely move, because—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Chat smiled, passing her a glass of water. “Chicken noodle or onion?”

She swallowed the pill, coughing slightly. “What?”

“Soup. Which one would you like: chicken noodle or onion?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cook?”

Chat chuckled, shaking his head. "I possess many talents, my Lady, but cooking is not one of them. Choose your meal, and I'll order it from a nearby cafe."

“Are you going to rob them?” 

He grinned, bowing down slightly. “Only if you ask me to.”

Chapter Text

She didn’t get it.

Chat Noir was her enemy. They've been fighting each other for years. Hated each other for almost a decade. Were often caught in nearly deadly matches, and yet… here he was, taking care of her for the third day in a row. 

He gave her medicine. He brought her food. He gave her privacy when she’d asked for it and even brought her a few books to read. 

He slept in another room just as she’d asked him, even though—

She didn’t get that either—he never went home for the night, but it didn’t seem like he was guarding her either. Not like she could escape yet. Her vertigo was so bad, she had to take three breaks on her ten-second trip to the washroom across the hall. 

Also, he’d made it clear from the start that he was not going to take her earrings, and she was free to go once she got better.

He hadn’t brought Hawkmoth to the apartment either.

“You’re looking at me like I’m a five-thousand-piece puzzle with the most ambiguous picture on it,” Chat yawned, closing a textbook on physics of all things! “Trying to figure out where my heavenly beauty comes from?”

She almost rolled her eyes.

Almost.

His eyes looked a tad bit too sad for that famously overinflated ego of his to be his true nature.

She’d never noticed that before.

“Why are you doing this?”

Chat looked at the book in his hands and shrugged. “I like physics. It fascinates me.”

She shook her head. “No, not the reading. Why are you taking care of me? We’re enemies.”

“Haven’t I told you that I’ve fallen in love with you?” He winked. “We would make a fine Romeo and Juliet, wouldn’t you say? We even already have the ‘enemies’ part covered.”

Ladybug groaned, closing her eyes. “Chat. I know you aren’t in love with me. If you were, you’d stop fighting and listen to what I have to say, but you aren’t doing that, now are you?”

“What do you mean? I pause and listen to you all the time.”

She glared. “You pause, not stop. And while you might hear me, you aren’t listening.”

“That depends—”

“Tell me the real reason, Chat! Why did you bring me here? Why haven’t you taken my earrings yet?”

He cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Because it isn’t fun winning just because you got sick and not because I’m so awesome and much better than you.”

He was lying.  

She was in the fashion industry. She saw too many of those model, fake smiles not to recognize it. 

Unnecessary wide, almost soul-less, slightly trembling. 

“You told me you wanted to bring back your mother.” 

He flinched, barely noticeable, but nodded. “Correct.”

"If that was true, why did you prioritize my health over her life then? It's not even a fair comparison. If you were to take my earrings and abandon me on some random rooftop, someone would've found and helped me. Or you could've discovered my identity and brought me home yourself. Or I'd regain my conscience eventually and would've gotten home or called for help myself. In any case—I would've been fine no matter what would've happened to my miraculous. This virus isn't deadly. Your mother, on the other hand—"

He looked away, clutching his fists.

“I’m sure you’re very well aware that you might never get another chance like this. You’ve never gotten this close in all the years we’ve fought. Is your mother not that important to you? Or did you lie to me about that?”

Chat watched the floor. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “I didn’t lie, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?” Ladybug lowered her feet to the ground and slowly stood up.

He was by her side in an instant. “Hey, careful! You are still too weak.”

She glared his way. 

What was his problem? He suddenly cared? Wasn’t he the one who had always initiated a fight first? And wasn’t he… Now, that she was thinking about it, he had never directly harmed her himself. All of her injuries were coming from her own clumsiness or akumas. Akumas who most of the time were destroyed by…

Freaking Chat Noir!

Had she ever truly won a single fight against him???  

“Why do you keep letting me win?”

“I don’t think you—” 

“Tell me, Chat Noir!” She grabbed his bell and pulled him down. “Why do you claim to want to win but keep sabotaging yourself every single time?”

“I don’t—”

"Yes, you do!" Ladybug seethed through her teeth, her face so close to his, she could feel his shaky breath on her skin. "You make it seem like I wounded you when I didn't. You fell off the buildings when I didn't push you. You covered me like a shield a few times so I wouldn’t get hurt!”

“I was just—”

“You ‘accidentally’ destroyed a good third of the akumas your partner sends my way! Do not tell me you’re earnest in your fight!” 

“That’s because—”

“And now you’re nursing me—your mortal enemy—back to health, when you could’ve ended this here and now and have everything you’ve been claiming to want for the last ten years! So, pardon me if I don’t believe you, but why the hell are you doing this Chat Noir? Why do you—”

“Because I want to live!” A single tear, the first of many, escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. 

Ladybug’s breath stuck in her chest, her eyes widening. 

To live? 

He was putting this charade on for the whole city and her for a decade because he wanted to—

“I want to live just a little bit longer.” His gaze was frantic, his voice broken. “I know I’m nothing but a worthless sentimonster created to be nothing more than a sacrifice for my mother’s life,” he whispered. “But I want to live. I want to experience things. I want to travel the world. I want to fall in love. I want someone to love me. For just a little bit. A few years at most. Is that too much to ask for?”

Her stomach dropped, eyes widening. She didn’t even notice as she let go of his bell. “A sentimonster?”

He pulled away, his shoulders hunching down.

“But you…” She looked him over. “You look so—”

“Human?” He scoffed, walking away. “Well, surprise. I’m not. Not that it matters anyway.”

“Wait, then, Hawkmoth… Is he controlling you?”

Chat shrugged. “What do you think?”  

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Chat Noir was a sentimonster Hawkmoth had been controlling all this time. The one who, according to Tikki, was supposed to be her partner had been fighting her all these years because…

Wait!

“How are you not following his orders, then? If he told you to take my earrings, why aren’t you doing so?”

Chat shrugged. “His original orders were vaguely worded, so I have a lot of wiggle room in what I can and cannot do during our battles. And the older I get, the easier it is for me to resist him and find loopholes. I can even lie now. Unless he gives me a very specific order and insists on it, I can find ways to work around it.”

That was clever. Very dangerous, though. Brave of him, but then he was always very brave.

“Did he ever suspect you were disobeying?”

“Why do you think I make sure to get an injury or two from time to time?” Chat’s lips tingled in a smile. “As long as it looks like I’m trying my best, I should be fine.”

“Fine?” She clenched her fists, biting on her lip. “Chat, this is not fine! This is abuse and mistreatment. This is slavery! And you’re a good person. I know you are! We need to find a way—”

He shook his head feverishly, grabbing her by the shoulders. “No! Please, don’t do anything. What I have now is working. So just keep winning our battles every time and I’ll be fine. Father isn’t immortal and he isn’t young either. One day, I’ll be free. Another ten or twenty years—”

"Father…" She halted back, almost falling onto the bed. "Hawkmoth is your father?”

He blinked, staring at her for a full ten seconds before asking. “Wasn’t it obvious? I told you we want to resurrect my mother. Who else but her husband would want that?”

Well, there were a few options she’d considered over the years but, true, a husband and the kid’s father was the most likely suspect.

“I…I never thought…”

Chat’s eyes widened, he suddenly straightened, held his breath, then took a few deep ones and closed his eyes, bringing his hand to his forehead.

“Are you al—”

“It’s nothing,” he murmured. “I just remembered that it’s time for your medicine. I’ll be right back.” 

He walked out of the door, his steps echoing a bit slower than his usual stride along the hallway. 

The sound of running water filled the space somewhere down the hall. 

A groan. 

A curse. 

Glass being put on a table, another curse, and a loud thud. 

Loud enough for her to realize that it wasn't anything smaller than a full-grown man in a catsuit.

“Chat? Are you alright?”

No answer.

She called a bit louder. “Chat? Do you need help?”

The apartment was still just as silent as before.

Ladybug stood on her shaky legs and headed towards the kitchen. Her head was still spinning like the damn Spinning Teacups ride at Disneyland, but she could manage to walk if she held onto the wall. 

The hallway was empty.

“Chat?”

She headed towards what she’d assumed was a kitchen.

“Chat?”

He was lying on the floor. His face flushed, his breathing rapid and heavy, his body shivering.

The doctor said this was highly contagious so no kissing these lips for you, my Lady!

Stupid cat!

He’d caught whatever she had!

She kneeled beside him and slightly shook his shoulder. “Chat, can you hear me?”

He looked like he was having a nightmare. His eyelids trembled, he was clenching his teeth.

“Come on, Chat. You can’t possibly expect me to drag you all the way to the bedroom. I’m still not back to my full strength.”

He only shivered more.

Ladybug pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. “Perfect. This is just perfect. And what am I supposed to do with you?”

Her gaze shifted to his ring. This was the perfect opportunity. She could take his ring and end this pointless battle of theirs. 

What would his father do to him if she did that, though?

If Chat Noir stopped being useful as a supervillain, would Hawkmoth dispose of him? Would he lock him somewhere impossible to escape to await his destiny as a sacrifice? 

If that were to happen… she’d miss his horrible puns and his awful attempts at being evil. She’d miss the glances he’d given her when no one was looking and the way he teased her when no one was listening. She’d miss his stupidly pretty face and…

Ladybug closed her eyes and swallowed, a corner of her lips curling the slightest bit. “You’re such a pain in my ass, Chat Noir. Once we’re out of here, I swear, I’m kicking your rear so hard you won’t even have to pretend to have lost to me.” 

Chapter Text

His head was splitting into two hundred pieces, at least. His chest burned, every cell in his body permeated with pain, yet he was… cold.

Freezing like it was the Ice Age all over again.

Everywhere but his left side and, strangely, a narrow area across his stomach.

The skin on his back itched badly enough that he needed to shift, but his body felt so heavy it seemed like an impossible task.

Chat tried nevertheless.

“You up?”

His Lady’s voice. Like the melody of a thousand tiny bells, beautiful like the starry night…

“Chat?”

He had finally lost it after all. 

Gone completely crazy. 

Mad. 

Insane!

Because it couldn’t be Ladybug’s hand cupping his cheek so gently. He couldn’t help but lean into the touch and let out a satisfied sigh—the first caring touch he’d gotten that wasn’t his mother’s.

“You need to take medicine, Chat, so open up.”

Someone pulled him up, causing him more pain. Chat hissed, but obliged. His delusions of his Lady grazing his skin with her hand were still too fresh in his mind to think about anything else. 

"I even got you the syrup, unlike someone who forced me to almost choke on pills."

Something sticky and sweet was poured into his mouth. He swallowed.

“Good. Now, back to sleep.”

He obeyed once again.

That was one thing he was really good at.

The next time he opened his eyes, Ladybug was tucked into his side, peacefully breathing into his chest.  

Like they weren’t enemies at all.

Like they hadn’t spent the last decade or so fighting each other almost daily.

Not that he could never hurt her in earnest. A little push and pull here and there, to keep Father off his tail, but her safety had always been his final priority over the years. 

She just was too beautiful to hurt.

Too smart.

And kind.

And brave.

And fierce.

And…

His head throbbed. Chat closed his eyes and breathed in through the pain. 

What happened here? 

The last thing he remembered was Ladybug getting sick and him taking care of her for a few days. Why was it his body that was sore all over now, then? And why was it h e who was lying in bed with a damp towel over his forehead while she looked the picture of health and perfection?

“How do you feel?”

His every muscle tensed. He was too exhausted for jokes or lies, though. “Like hell.”

"Good." The bed beside him creaked and Ladybug got off. "You're past the worst, then. It was a 'bottomless pit of agony and oblivion to hell to WTF is going on to okay I think I can finally breathe now' for me. Do you want anything? Water, food?"

Chat blinked, looking at the girl. 

She was smiling at him.

Smiling!

Softly and gently and so, so beautifully.

What the hell had happened here, and why the fuck couldn’t he remember a thing past her regaining consciousness and reluctantly accepting his help?

Did he… did he somehow manage to seduce her into being nice to him? 

How did that happen?

She watched him, amused. “I suspect you can’t remember some stuff, right? Don’t worry. I couldn’t recall—”

“Why are you doing this?”  

Ladybug blinked. “Doing what?”

“Being nice to me. Smiling.”

She shrugged, offering him a bottle of water and a painkiller. “Returning the favour?” 

A weak chuckle escaped his lips. Of course, she would. She was Ladybug, the Hero of Paris, after all. She'd return a favour even to her enemy. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Do you think you can eat? Something like soup perhaps?”

He was starving, and he wasn’t above accepting the return of a favour. That would probably be the most he’d ever get from her, anyway. “I can try.”

“I’ll be right back then.” 

She yanked her yo-yo off her waist and was gone in a flash. Half an hour later, she returned with a small bag in her hands. 

“This is my mom’s cooking, so you’d better not spill a single droop,” she said, taking a thermos out of the bag and setting it for him on a tray. “I also got you a few croissants.”

The smell that attacked his nose alone was enough to make his head spin. The colour, the texture, the meal’s presentation: it looked nothing less than a culinary masterpiece.

“Are they your mother’s too?”

She shook her head. “My dad’s. My parents are saying Hello and Thank you, by the way.”

His breath halted. “You told your parents about me?”

Her cheeks reddened slightly as she looked away. "I had to explain where I vanished for a few days without notice. They had all of my friends and police involved already."

“So your secret is out?”

She shrugged. "Only to my parents. My best friend knew already. Everyone else thinks that my boss was so extremely unreasonable again that I said 'Fuck it', turned my phone off, and took a spur-of-the-moment trip to the South to calm down and stop myself from committing a boss-icide." 

He couldn’t help a chuckle. “That’s a weak excuse.”

"Yeah?" She narrowed her eyes on him. "And what does your father think? Where are you right now?"

“Visiting my cousin in London.”

“And your cousin will cover for you?”

Chat grinned. “Without me having to ask him.”

She pursed her lips, as if she wanted to say something, then pushed the tray with food closer. “Eat. It’ll get cold.”

He obeyed, pausing only after a single bite. 

It tasted like heaven he didn’t deserve. 

Like the home he’d lost when his mother died. 

Like the warmth of a lover he'd never have. 

Like—

“Chat…” Ladybug was cradling his cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Her smile was soft and gentle, her eyes concerned. “I know Maman’s cooking is amazing, but slow down. You’ll choke.”

He stuffed another spoonful in his mouth and reached for the croissant. 

One more bite.

Just a little more taste.

A bit more to feel.

She watched him silently as he finished his meal. Then, took away the tray and pulled him into a hug. “I’ll find a way to help you… if you still want that.”

Ah. He must have told her things he couldn’t remember. What exactly? And how much?

Did it really matter, though?

"We'll free you. I promise. Just wait and see. We'll get your amok and free you from your father's control."

So, he’d told her everything.

Then there was nothing to be hesitant about. He was destined to die anyway, so at least he’d do it while fighting for something he’d yearned for his whole life. 

“That sounds nice.” Chat managed a small smile as he wrapped his arms around her and nodded into the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

She pulled back slightly. “Just to make sure: you do realize I’m asking you to switch sides? Aka, betray your father?”

“Will you go on a date with me if I do?”

Her eyes widened, but she chuckled. “Ever the flirt.”

Yeah, but only with her. And only because if he were to walk away from the only family he’d ever known, he’d better start learning how to voice his wishes. Father never let him do that.

“But will you?”

She cocked her head to the side and nodded. “Sure. One date is a small price to pay for the safety of Paris.”

“Should’ve I asked for at least ten then?”

Ladybug laughed and pushed him back into the bed. “Get better first, Romeo. We’ll talk about this later. When you’re not feverish and delusional.”   

Chapter Text

Turned out viruses didn't discriminate between sentibeings and regular humans. Even the suit didn't help Chat Noir get over whatever thing he'd caught from her any faster or easier. He was asleep most of the next few days, and when he wasn't, the fever and pain made it hard for him to function.

He still looked very handsome.

Not the “hot villain” charm he’d always carried around with him, but more of a “cute, little, abandoned on the street kitten that you just want to pick up and cuddle and bring home” kind of vibe.

Ladybug brushed the gold of Chat’s hair away from his forehead. His real eyes must be as beautiful as his face was. She hoped they were green.

He scrunched his nose and opened his eyes under her touch. A lazy smile stretched across his lips. “Good morning.”

“I was just checking your temperature.” Ladybug shifted her hand from his cheek to his forehead. “And I don’t think you’ve got one anymore.”

“I feel like I can finally breathe again.” He yawned.

Cutely.

“Then, I say my job here is done.” She sat up and inched away. “We should come up with a plan before we go, though. That is, unless you’ve changed your mind now that you can think clearly again? But first—” She jumped off the bed and picked up the books he’d brought her, “—we should clean up. And I know you’re probably still feeling quite a bit off, but since I wasn’t the only one who was sick, we both should clean up. I’ll do the kitchen and hallway, you start here. Call me when you’re done!”

She rushed out of the room like a coward.

Like someone who was just caught admiring the beauty of her enem—hopefully, former enemy?

Oh god…

He could take back the promise he’d made with her when he was sick and feverish, and she wouldn’t be able to blame him for it. This virus really did a number on one’s comprehension. He might not even remember their conversation.

Should she run away? 

If he really did forget—

“Ladybug?”

She froze. He was done already? But—

“Ladybug, can I come in?”

He was at the door. 

She closed her eyes and inhaled. 

Deeply and slowly. 

This was fine. 

She was fine. 

If he really did forget, and if he finally decided to attack her, there was a window to escape, and she was stronger than him right now because he was still quite sick, so it all would be just fine.

“Yeah, of course.”

The door slowly creaked open and in walked a tall, lean, and absolutely gorgeous man with blond hair and green eyes.

"Hello," he said in Chat Noir's voice. "I'm—"

She shut her eyes and covered them with her hands. "What are you doing?!" 

“Proving that it wasn’t the ramblings of a feverish person. I really do want to join your side.”

“You do?” She peeked from behind her fingers. 

He nodded. “There is no going back for me now, is there?”

“But… why?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile softening his lips. "If I were to get sick at home, the most my father would do is snarl that because I couldn't manage to stay healthy, a few days would now be wasted. Then, he'd tell his secretary to fetch a doctor if I wasn’t better by the end of the day. And I'm his son. To you, I'm an almost life-long enemy, and you nursed me back to health yourself, fed me your parents' cooking, and even agreed to go on a date with me. I might be a sentimonster—"

“Being,” she cut in. “You’re a sentibeing, or rather a sentihuman, if you ask me.”

Chat gaped at her for a few moments, his lips barely moving. “Senti…human?”

Ladybug nodded. "I've been thinking and observing you these past few days. From what I know about sentibeings, they are created by the design and intention of the peacock miraculous' wielder. So, technically, if your creator intended for you to be human, if they designed you that way, then you might just be one. Spare the amok control your father has over you, of course, but even regarding that, I see that you're starting to resist it, something I've never even heard of before, so I'd say you are far from any other sentimonsters I've ever seen. You're more like a sentihuman."

Something sparkled in his eyes. He closed them, inhaled and whispered, “I got more warmth and care from you in a few days than in ten years from my father. We’ve been enemies for a decade but you already see me as much more than he ever did.”

With a few steps between them eliminated, Chat’s civilian persona reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. “My Lady, my name is Adrien Agreste and from now on, my life is in your hands.”

Her blood froze. 

“And, please, don’t show me your identity for now.” 

Agreste!?

“I don’t want to know until we have my amok, so I can’t betray you against my will.” 

As in Gabriel Agreste’s son, so famously reclusive that no one even knew how he looked?

"I could ask my cousin to help with that. He's rather good at… ‘acquiring’ hard-to-get items—"

“Gabriel Agreste?! Your father is Gabriel Agreste?!”

He nodded. “Yes?”

“Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth?!” Her breath quickened as she grabbed him by the shoulders. “That can’t be. This is impossible. Please, tell me you’re lying! Please, I beg you.”

Adrien blinked, tilting his head to the side. "Do you need to see my identification?" 

She shook her head, taking a few steps back. “No. No, no, no. This is not real. This isn’t happening.”

His lips parted, then, he closed them, frowning, and looked to the side. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry! You just don’t understand!” She threw her hands in the air. “I’m a fashion major. Fashion! I admired Gabriel Agreste my whole life! I strived to be like him! I studied his designs and learned his techniques. He was my idol! I…” She took a few steps back and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I don’t feel so good. I need to—no—but—”

Her eyes shifted to Adrien. He looked dejected. Sad, even. He seemed to curl in on himself. Like he was thinking she'd go back on her word and dispose of him just because his father turned up to be someone who betrayed her utmost deep, life-long respect and admiration.   

She grabbed his hand and yanked him to look at her. “That doesn’t change anything between us, you understand? I knew your father was Hawkmoth when I asked you to join me, didn’t I? I just didn’t expect him to be Gabriel Agreste, the man whom I looked up to my whole life and someone who practically shaped my fashion sense and inspired my life’s career, so, please, don’t take it personally, but I’m allowed to freak out and you cannot get all sulky at me here, got it?”

He nodded slightly.

"And I have a grandma in Italy and an uncle in Shanghai. And friends in New York!" she continued. "We can start there, so don't you think anything funny!"

“Start what?”

She blinked. “Travel. You said you wanted to see the world, didn’t you?”

The corner of his lips curled. “I did say that.”

“So we’re defeating that jerk—I mean, Hawkmoth, and then, we’ll go on our date and we’re going to travel and you’ll make lots of friends and see many places and you’ll build a new life for yourself and you would be happy! Do you understand me?”

He nodded, grinning. “I’m a sentihuman. Sentihumans are purr-etty smart.”

“The puns are back. Good.” She smiled, squeezing his hand tightly. "We'd better start planning something while your father doesn't suspect anything yet. Call your cousin or whoever it was that was good at stealing, and I'll get my bestie and hopefully, by the end of the week we can all laugh about it and—"

She halted, a feeling of his lips against her cheek burning her. “Adrien?”

He didn’t hide the tears escaping his eyes anymore. Instead, he pulled her into a hug and buried his face into the crook of her neck. 

“Adrien, are you okay?”

He slightly shook his head, pulling her closer. 

“But I will be,” he whispered against her skin. “From now on, by your side, I will be just fine.”