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"Ladybug, duck!”
He had broken his promise once again without even thinking twice about it. The full force of the blast sent a cold shiver all throughout his body, as if a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on him.
The icy air of that winter night brushed against his fingers, drawing his sight to them.
Bare. The gloves of his suit slowly melted away, small pieces of the fabric floating in the wind.
He looked back at Ladybug. The tears in his gloves were probably not big enough for her to see them yet. There would be time to explain later. Time to apologize for breaking his promise. Time to explain why he leapt off that roof and into the nearest window.
The glass would be fixed as soon as the akuma was defeated, at least. Hopefully, the magic would erase every small shard now sitting on his skin and every gash they created.
Adrien took a moment to breathe in before daring to reveal his face, eyes closed. A gust of wind followed his entrance through the glass.
The stinging on his arms made him realize the sudden absence of his suit. For a moment, he hoped to encounter darkness when he opened his eyes, for an empty room, some random attic with no one around to see him as Plagg regained energy. Maybe he could rest a little as well, and get a moment or two to hype himself up and transform again, hoping with all his might the magic of the Miraculous would be kind enough to somehow spare him of the agony wearing his skin-tight suit without retrieving the glass shards would be.
He opened his eyes. Light. Of course he wasn't so lucky.
With his arms still covering his face, he told himself it would be easier to convince a civilian or two to keep his identity a secret. Even paying them hush money if they happened to not be as kind hearted as he hoped they were would be easier than detransforming where the akuma could see him and report back to whoever wielded the Butterfly nowadays. A few hundred, even a few thousand leaving his ownership would be easier than detransforming in front of Ladybug. Even finding a good reason for Nathalie to allow him to retrieve that money from his accounts would be easier.
“Hidehidehidedon'tcomeouthideplease”, he whispered frantically to Plagg.
"Adrien!"
It was definitely not going to be easy.
Reluctantly, he uncurled from his position. Was Ladybug sure his Miraculous didn’t have bad luck side effects? That wielding the Black Cat didn’t grant him the worst outcome possible for every single situation?
Of all the buildings in the city, and all the windows in the one they fought on, he had chosen Nathalie’s hospital room to crash in.
In a feeble burst of hope that he had just ran into someone with the exact same haircut and a very similar appearance, that their voice just happened to sound like Nathalie’s and that it was just a trick caused by glass dust in his eyes, maybe even an injury from the fall, he closed them.
Opening them again didn’t bring the expected effect, nor did repeatedly blinking. Reality finally dawned on him, almost knocking the wind out of him. It wasn’t an illusion, a hallucination caused from hitting his head in the landing. Nathalie was sitting in front of him.
“W- what are you doing here? Your appointment- Wasn’t it next week? They were full this entire week and- Are you not feeling well? Are you-”
She had seen him crash the window, detransform in front of her eyes without the slightest chance for denying it was him in the suit. The room was filled with shards of glass that had specks of his blood and his suit on them. She was in a hospital room when she wasn’t supposed to and there was no reason for her to other than-
“Adrien, your arms- You’re bleeding, I need to call the nurse, hold on!”
“The suit- it will cover it. I’m okay, I just- The suit… Then the lucky charm- She'll heal me! I need to go!”
“You need to get that cleaned at least!”
And now there was going to be a nurse who was going to see him and ask why and how on earth he got on the hospital’s last floor without registering his entrance, and why the window was broken, and he was going to have to explain to her as well. Maybe if she had been distraught enough by the shock, he could try and trick her, gaslight her somehow into believing it wasn’t him, but she was so composed for a person who just had the boy they looked after crash through a window in a random Wednesday night-
“Don’t, I can’t explain, they’re going to know and you-”
Nathalie saw him detransform, crash through the window, watched his suit disintegrate-
His throat closed up. When had he started crying?
“The nurse won’t come with the results for another fifteen minutes or so. I won’t call her yet, but you’re hurt. If you wait for me here I could find something to clean your wounds with, but I would prefer it if a professional did it. I only know the basics.”
“Th-thank you.”
Adrien mentally scolded himself for breaking down so quickly. Truly a superhero in all his glory, wasn’t he?
“Now, first of all, I need you to breathe. Slow and deep, or you’ll pass out. Follow my pace, okay?”
And now he needed breathing exercises like some sort of- He couldn’t even find a proper comparison. A mess would be more than accurate, though.
One, two, three deep breaths in, and he hated to admit it was working. Not that Nathalie caring for him wasn't nice, but the spare ragged intakes of air between sets made him feel even more keen on beating himself up mentally.
As the shallow inhalations made way for regular ones, his mind cleared a little. Just enough so that he could consider his options, but they had not become magically less limited in the past few minutes.
“I'll go get something to clean that. Wait here, alright?”
He nodded in response. At least he had made the good call to ask Nathalie to keep it between them; it would probably not be a good look for him if the nurses saw him like that. The last thing he needed was a mental evaluation that he supposed he wouldn't precisely pass.
There wasn't much to explain anymore. He had wondered for a long time how he would drop the Double Life bomb, if he ever did at all. Every plan he considered involved lots, lots of explanations. Most of them, a dramatic transformation in his room or in Nathalie's, accompanied by a tear or two and many apologies for keeping that big of a secret. Now that he was in the thick of it, there was actually barely anything left to say. It was clear who he was, and there was no way to back down.
Maybe the apology part wouldn't be so out of place.
Nathalie opened the doorknob and swiftly made her way inside the room. Even with the slight limp she still sported, her motions were precise. A calculated uninterruptible chain. If Adrien didn't know she had once specialized in historical artifacts and retrieving them, she could have very well been a spy for all he knew.
Once she was inside, she emptied her pockets, revealing tweezers, gauze, medical tape, cotton, and a comically large bottle of antiseptic. Large enough for Adrien’s mental spiral to stop and ask about it. There was no way half of that equipment could even be found on the floor they were in, right?
“How-”
There was absolutely no way that bottle could go unnoticed in her arms, let alone a pocket or wherever she hid it, by the staff, right?
“You learn a lot about hiding things when you raid museums for stolen artifacts,” she answered, the slightest hint of a smirk in her lips. “In fact, I'm pretty sure that’s how your mother learned about me.”
That was raising way more questions than it gave answers.
“I'm going to clean the area. It shouldn't hurt, but it might sting a little, okay?”
“It can't be worse than the glass,” Adrien replied, a lousy attempt at a joke.
Nathalie smiled sympathetically, he wanted to believe, instead of cringing at the joke.
While it dried off, she grabbed a cotton ball, dampened it with antiseptic, and cleaned the tweezers. They looked suspiciously like eyebrow tweezers, Adrien realized.
“I would have preferred to have a nurse do this, but at least the glass broke in bigger pieces and didn't sink too deep in,” she explained. “I hope it doesn't hurt much.”
Carefully, she took out one by one the five shards of glass in one arm, and the three pieces of the other. Her movements felt meticulous, almost practiced, even if her hands trembled at times. Adrien couldn't tell if it was another one of the sequels that brought her to regular checkups, or just a byproduct of the tense situation. Silently, she waited for her to be done.
Once he was bandaged up, she double-checked the gauze covered all the injuries, and gave her approval.
“I think you were busy before. If you need to go, we can talk later, as long as you promise to tell me everything,” she said reassuringly.
The sudden softness threw Adrien off. No further questioning? She understood, just like that? No reprimanding?
Suddenly, Adrien realized all his former plans had involved telling not only her, but his father as well. A wave of mixed emotion hit him, and he couldn't quite decipher whether it was more positive or negative. Deep down, though, he knew the answer.
There was one thing left to do now.
“Thank you, Nathalie. I'm sorry for… everything.”
“You're doing what you have to and can. Don't be sorry for that. But please, just be more careful, okay? Keep yourself as safe as you can. I'm sure you're very capable of doing that.”
Adrien couldn't do but throw himself at her with a ready hug.
“Oop, careful with that arm! The gauze won't hold for long, it's temporary.”
He winced as he realized the sting that came with the rough contact, and nodded in agreement.
“I'll try to be home for dinner, Nathalie.”
She gave him an oddly sorrowful smile. “I'll see you then.”
Adrien was about to exit the room to find a place to transform, but changed his mind immediately.
“I guess there's no reason to go hide now,” he explained. “You can come out now, Plagg.”
“Finally!” the Kwami protested. “Don’t make me hide like that again, since you didn't specify I was sucked inside of Tikki-knows-what type of crevice!” He turned to Nathalie, suddenly aware of her presence, side-eyed her and spoke again, adressing her. “I think I deserve some cheese for that, don't you? Preferably Camembert.”
“That explains a lot about those snacks,” she muttered between her teeth. “I'll add that to dinner.”
Adrien grimaced. That was the other thing he would have to explain-
“This is Plagg, I'll tell you all about him later! If someone let's me hurry up,” he looked at the Kwami.
“What did I do now?”
“Let's just transform,” Adrien sighed. “Uh, that's how I turn into Chat Noir.Plagg, claws out!”
With Nathalie in the room, his usual theatrics suddenly felt a little extra.
The woman suppressed a giggle, not wanting to embarrass him further. Suddenly, her expression changed entirely, as if she had just remembered something.
“So I'll see you for dinner- Nathalie, what's wrong?”
“I'm sorry too, Adrien.”
The boy’s tail flickered with confusion, his head tilting in a completely cat-like manner.
“Sorry about what?”
Nathalie considered dropping everything and opening up in the spot, but…
“I'll tell you everything at home, okay? I don't want to keep you here if you're busy.”
“Fair. Bye, Nathalie!”
“I'll see you later, good luck!”
After the boy leapt out the window, almost like a prayer, she whispered over and over the same phrase.
Please be okay.