Chapter Text
It had been nearly four years. Four years they’d worked together without a hitch. They’d been strangers, then the best of friends, and somehow it had worked. They had worked together to defeat so many akuma-infested victims they had lost count, and it had turned into a game. Sure, there had been injuries along the way, so many they could hardly count, but they had made it.
Somehow, along the way, they’d come to a simple resolution: they could each have all the suspicions they wanted, but they wouldn’t tell each other their real identities. Ultimately, they decided it was too dangerous, although neither of them mentioned to the other how difficult life would become if their suspicions were true. So they let it go, and were content as Chat Noir and Ladybug. No more, no less.
They sat on the edge of the roof in the stillness, having finished the night’s patrol. Morning was coming, they could see the dawn peeking over the horizon. Instead of their usual evening patrols, the way they’d done early in their careers, they’d started varying the times and who took them. At least they weren’t predictable, and they could still get some sleep. Occasionally, like tonight, they would take patrol together and talk.
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I won’t, what if you say something ridiculous?”
Chat sighed, shrugging. “Frankly, it is ridiculous. I want to teach physics. I’ve always loved it, it’s interesting and I just…” he shrugged. “There’s no money in it, but I enjoy it. Kind of like this hero-thing, you know?”
“If you could make a career out of being a hero, you’d be set,” she smiled wistfully. “But why is it ridiculous to want to teach?”
He sighed. “My father won’t let me.”
“He won’t let you follow your dream?”
“Nope. Never has, probably never will.” He flopped back on the roof and groaned. “I’m going into business.”
“Yikes.” She stared out at the skyline, unsure what to say. “What about…would he maybe let you do both?”
He snorted. “Doubt it. What use is physics? All you can do with a degree in physics is teach or do research, there’s no future in that.” Still, he pondered the possibility. Maybe it would be possible to do both. If he started managing his own schedule, maybe he could swing it. Natalie could only baby him so long…and if he were especially careful about the appointments his father set, there was a slim chance he could do both and keep it under the radar. Then again, now wasn’t the time to think it through, so he changed the subject. “What about you?”
“I’d love to go into fashion, but I don’t know that L’institut Marangoni will accept me.” Her voice was quieter than usual, but nervous, almost hopeful.
He whistled. “Why am I not surprised? It’s all or nothing for you, hmm?” The question came out as more of a purr than he probably intended, but she laughed all the same.
“I’ve always wanted to. It feels right. When I make my own things, I feel better about wearing them than anything I buy in the store.”
“I’m sure you could pull quite anything off. You could go out in a potato sack and make it look glamorous.”
“Ah, but you’ve never even seen the 'ordinary' me,” she laughed. “Perhaps glamour isn’t my thing. Maybe I'm into grunge, or I have my own horribly boring style.”
“There's nothing ordinary about you, and I’m sure the trenchcoat you would fashion out of said potato sack would look every bit as kickass as…” There was a scream, and a blare of car alarms. They both looked up, then nodded to each other in sync. “Hold that thought. Duty calls!” Chat leapt up excitedly. “Race you there!”
“I’m only running because someone’s in danger!” she shouted as he dashed off, quickly catching up to him as she leaped and bounded across the rooftops. They ran along the Seine, L’Il de la Cité on their right, as they followed the screams to the plaza of the Hôtel de Ville.
They landed onto the scene and found themselves facing yet another akuma victim, in the middle of a smattering of early-morning of joggers that had taken the path for its lack of uneven cobbles and an early-risen tourist or two. Chat looked at him skeptically and turned back to her. “Please enlighten me…why is this guy not wearing a shirt? There’s a reason, right?”
“I am the Brutal Boxer!” he shrieked, flexing and posing.
Chat snorted derisively. “I swear, they’re running out of themes for themselves, don’t you think my Lady? This is ridiculous.” The akuma’s victim spun and hurled the van’s bumper at him. He dodged easily, ‘tsk’ing and shaking his head. “Didn’t you ever learn it’s mean to throw things at animals? You might as well kick a puppy.”
“I throw plenty of punches! And I wake up early to train, and I am stronger than you!” The both of them evaded the chunks of van nimbly, Chat trying to distract him as she moved about, trying to find the akuma.
The poor bastard was practically a joke. They had their routine down, it was fairly straightforward. One of them would distract the victim, the other would hunt for the akuma. Simple enough, most of the time. “You know, I think Hawk Moth is just getting lazy at this point.”
She sprinted at his back, dropping and sliding between the victim's legs, despite his odd footwork. She found herself in front of the man and dodged as he swung at her, connecting with nothing but empty air. “That’d be true if I could find the akuma. Mind helping?”
“That thing, the sweatband, it looks like a pretty obvious choice. As I said, he’s getting lazy.” Chat said, his voice smug as he sidestepped another chunk of debris.
“Yeah, well, we still can’t find him and we don’t have any leads, no thanks to you.” She said it as a joke, gently ribbing him, but the words still stung a bit, following on the heels of his last failure. They’d gone their separate ways, promising to look for clues to Hawk Moth’s identity, his hideout, anything. She’d found obscure mentions of him in a couple of history books Tikki had helped her find and he’d found nothing. Then again, Plagg hadn’t helped him, so he’d been on his own.
Still, he looked indignant as he dodged a wheel the Boxer ripped off a van. “I’m good at certain things, but hunting people down is not one of them.”
“You’re a cat, you’re supposed to be good at hunting, hmm?” she grinned catching one of the Boxer’s arms with her yoyo.
“Ahaha, very funny.”
The Boxer came at her fast, more powerfully than any normal human possibly could, but she stood her ground, waiting til the right moment to catch him and use his own momentum against him, sending his overpowered attack into a nearby façade.
Cracks splintered up it and as he stumbled back to his feet. Chat leapt over him and snagged the sweat band, giving him a mocking push and watching as he stumbled across the street and sat down on the curb, finally giving up. He took a good look at the sweatband, cringing and making a face as he did so. “Yikes, haven’t you ever washed this thing?” Out came the claws, slashing the band into pieces. They watched as the akuma fluttered out of it and Ladybug caught it, freeing the purified butterfly and watching it flutter away.
The Boxer seemed stunned, grumbling something about a knockout as Chat smiled and brushed flaking masonry off of himself. “Well, that looks like another akuma taken care of my Lady, think we’re about done for the day?” She looked up and flashed him a smile before her expression changed to one of shock.
“Look out!” He turned around looking for the source of her panic. He never managed to complete the turn, as she slammed into him, shoulder-checking him backward as masonry and debris landed where he’d been only a moment before.
When he finally pulled himself to his feet, he looked at the pile of rubble with relief, ever grateful to his partner not to have been crushed. It would have been just his bad luck for that to happen, and from the size of the stones, it would have meant a hospital trip for sure.
The relief only lasted a moment, til he looked around the plaza for her and saw nothing but half a dozen horrified expressions looking at the pile. Fear gripped him and he moved like death was on his heels. “Ladybug!”
He wasn’t the only one to move. A middle-aged woman in neon jogging clothes and an older man, who had been escorting a very old woman, presumably his mother, ran forward. The woman stopped a moment, pointing at one of the bystanders. “You! Pink jacket!”
The second woman looked surprised, glanced at the others, then pointed to herself. “Me?”
“Call 112!”
The woman nodded and it was only a moment before she was on the phone, explaining to the emergency operator what was happening. They grabbed chunks of masonry, shifting it aside as they fought to dig out the red-suited figure. Once freed, the woman started checking for vitals, moving with an easy familiarity. Chat, thoroughly out of his league, took her hand and watched the woman work. “You’re her friend, yes?”
“Her partner. Always have been, always will…” the words caught in his mouth as he realized that might not be true.
She nodded. She had thin, pinched lips, but looked at him with a knowing expression. For some reason, he trusted her. “This is serious, as soon as the EMTs get here they will need to take her. Can you contact her parents and have them meet her at the hospital? Do you know who she is?”
He hesitated, then nodded, quickly pulling out his phone. “I’m…mostly sure. I’ve got their number.”
“Go.” She hesitated in thought. “They should take her to Hôtel-Dieu. Tell them to meet her there. I’ll stay with her.”
Anger sparked. He should be with her, not some random stranger. “Why should I trust you?”
She frowned. “Because it’s an emergency, I have the training to take care of her until EMTs get here, and your hands are shaking. I need you to stay calm, you know her best.” He glanced down and his stomach tightened. He hadn’t even noticed, but she was right.
He moved away, pushing people aside to clear the crowd as he made the call. A relaxed male voice answered the other line. “Good morning, this is Astruc Bakery. Can I help you?” Her father’s voice? Best to check.
“Is this Mr. Dupain?”
“Yes? Who is this?”
“Please come to Hôtel-Dieu quickly. Marinette’s been hurt.”
There was a moment of silence, but a commotion in the background picked up. “Sabine!” The phone was held to something and muffled for a moment, although he thought he heard ‘…go check on Marinette!’ before her father responded on the line. “What happened? What’s she doing out so early?”
“We, uh, went for a morning jog. But there was an accident, she’s been hurt, please. They’re taking her to Hôtel-Dieu.”
“Who is this?” her father demanded, panic quickly rising in his voice as more muffled noise came from the background of the line. He was certain they could hear the siren through the phone.
“A friend. Please, just trust me.” Hanging up on him was near impossible as chaos broke out on the other end of the line, but he forced himself to do so.
He ran back toward the crowd, which was moving somewhat as the EMTs arrived and shooed them away. Even with them there, rubberneckers had their priorities, trying to see the young woman as they rushed a stretcher over. There was a small beeping noise.
Her transformation. “Oh no.” He shoved through the crowd, “Get out of my way!”
As her transformation wore off, he hovered over her for a moment, trying to block their view, but it was impossible.
“Oh my god she’s just a kid, she’s so small.”
“She can’t even be out of school.”
“They’ve been fighting for how long now? They must have been children when they started!”
Of course it was Marinette, as he’d suspected for years. Just Marinette, small and fragile looking. The woman moved aside as the EMTs came in, but he caught her hand, gloveless and chilled. Time wasn’t moving properly, it felt slow and blurred. “Lady, come on Ladybug, please wake up, please,” the words were quick and quiet, but her hand was limp in his. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, I can’t do this without you, I’m supposed to be the one to make the sacrifice play.”
“Where’s Tikki?” Plagg hissed. “We have to find her!”
The small bag at her side…that had to be where her kwami was. Chat grabbed it as discretely as he could, fearing to let the kwami out in front of all these people. Instead, he threw the strap over his head and held her hand, waiting as the EMTs moved. Though their actions were quick and sure, it felt like forever, and he didn’t let go until they needed to move her. He stood, feeling hollow, as the ambulance disappeared. He felt a hand at his arm. The jogger nodded after the ambulance. “You should probably follow, make sure her parents show up.”
It was enough to spur him back into action. He gave her a brief nod, then dashed off, climbing a couple walls to leap along the rooftops, following the siren.
It never even occurred to him that one of the bystanders might have been taking video.