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Unfortunately, being a superhero sometimes meant cutting into dates.
At least Marc and I know that we’re both superheroes. He thought, dodging around one of Tigress’…well, tigers. She was kind of like Reflekta in that way—or maybe Mr. Pigeon. He wasn’t sure. She could turn people into tigers and control them. Unfortunately, they were…not just one size. There were multiple sizes—one of them dwarfed Horrificator, there were some that were the size of pigeons, and a few normal-sized tigers (which was…a strange phrase, and he was plenty aware of that). So far, Ladybug and Chat Noir had already had to call in Carapace, Pegasus, Ryuko, and King Monkey. Caprikid and Rooster Bold were just the next ones to be called in, since Argos had to take Ryuko back to the patisserie for a healing potion. She’d taken a tiger’s claws to the stomach.
These weren’t like the old Hawk Moth’s akumas. These guys hurt. It used to be they only had the occasional injury—typically Chat Noir, like when he took a Cataclysm to the ribs (Sabrina still apologized for that even though it wasn’t her fault and she had been akumatized at the time), or when he had been killed by Timebreaker (Alix was sorry for that), or shot by Dark Cupid (Kim), or…mostly Chat. It was mostly Chat. Now, though, it was almost every other fight. Despite Sabine and Tom’s insistence, they didn’t have to pay them back for the amount of bandages and bruise cream and everything else they went through. It was ridiculous. Or, as Chloe would say, “utterly ridiculous”.
Tigress’ tiger lunged for him again, slashing at his face. Blocking with his paintbrush, Nathaniel felt his boots slide on the concrete. “Not bad, Caprikid!” Carapace shouted to him. Glancing over, Nathaniel smiled once. Then, he twisted, throwing the tiger off of him. He was pretty sure this one used to be Nadja Chamak. At least it was a normal-sized one. He was able to throw it towards the train station entrance. Slamming into the bars, the tiger hissed.
“Sorry,” he apologized, turning to look at the others. His eyes wandered the area. He needed to help find the akuma—
“Good news, everyone,” Félix said over the comms, “my mother has agreed to help pay for the updated medical kit.”
There were multiple cheers over the comms.
Nathaniel had to fight back a smile. He added his own cheer over the comm, then leapt in to watch Carapace’s back. King Monkey and Pegasus were handling one another, of course Chat Noir and Ladybug were fighting in tandem. Still, someone needed to watch Carapace’s back.
“Thanks, dude!” Carapace said, glancing over his shoulder. He still had Shellter up in order to protect himself. There was a tiger the size of a bus currently clawing at it. Sharp, ridged fangs (and really, weren’t normal tigers bad enough? Did Tigress really need to give her pets fangs like serrated blades?) scraped at the green hard-light. Backing off, it lashed its tail and stalked around them. “Man, these things just seem to keep coming. Where is she getting all of these?”
“She’s turning people into them. Didn’t you notice?” Nathaniel asked. Touching his own comm, he added, “Ladybug, how are you doing over there? You and Chat alright?” He could see King Monkey and Pegasus, he was watching Carapace’s back, but Ladybug and Chat Noir—
“We’re fine!” Marinette shouted over the comms. “We have Tigress in our sights. But her amok ran off! We sent Rooster Bold after it—”
“What?” Nathaniel’s heart skipped a beat. “You sent—Rooster Bold alone?”
A hand settled on his shoulder. When he glanced back, he saw Carapace smiling at him. “Rooster Bold’s got it, dude. We gotta believe in him, alright?”
For a second, Nathaniel stared at him. Marc was out there. Marc was in danger, he was fighting alone, he had gone after the amok of all things—
This is how you feel when Alya and Adrien go out without you, isn’t it? He thought, frowning. With an anxious swallow, he nodded, turning back. “Sorry, everyone. I’m overreacting.”
“You’re not overreacting. If Ryuko were here, we would send her after him for backup, but we didn’t have the chance. Can anyone find him and go after him?”
“I’ll get to him.” Viperion reported. “Viperion, Purple Tigress, and Pigella on the way. We may have Minotaurox as well.”
“Thank you.” Nathaniel sighed, relieved. Still, he glanced at the sky. Just for a moment. I just hope that Marc is doing alright, he thought. His attention was dragged away by another tiger lunging. “Heads up, Carapace!”
“Got it, dude! Thanks!”
Nathaniel gritted his teeth, swinging his paintbrush around with a shout of, “Genesis!”
Marc slashed his fountain pen up, cutting down the side of a tiger.
He felt awful about it. He was pretty sure that tiger was one of Marinette’s parents. Or maybe Nathaniel’s dad? (He wouldn’t have felt as bad if he’d lashed Shriel. Of course, he would still feel bad. Just…not as bad.) Honestly, he wasn’t sure.
What he was sure of was that Minotaurox and Pigella had saved his ass. Judging by Viperion’s call in, he’d had something to do with that. Great guy, that Luka. Hopefully he hadn’t had to use Second Chance too much, he’d be tired afterwards. Now, standing back-to-back with Minotaurox and Pigella, he glanced back. Minotaurox’s mallet flashed as he swung it around, brandishing it when one of the tigers got too close. On his other side, Pigella had a vice grip on her tambourine. Her eyes darted to him. She managed a smile.
“Don’t worry, Rooster! We’ll get out of this!”
“Yeah!” Minotaurox slammed his mallet into the side of a tiger as it lunged. “We’ll just need to keep where we are until Ladybug and Chat Noir manage to handle this! That, or see if we can find the akuma ourselves!”
“Right—” Marc glanced to the side, trying to watch their backs. His heart was racing. He and Nathaniel had been in the middle of a date, he had finally gotten Nathaniel out of his sketchbooks and Nathaniel had finally gotten him out of his notebooks. Honestly, he had spent days planning it out. He’d even taken cooking (well, baking) lessons from Marinette! She had given him a full recipe. He and Nathaniel were going to make vanilla cupcakes. A kind of American thing, but Marinette had given him some tips on a good, simple box mix to help him out. And she’d given them piping bags and everything!
He almost missed the tiger coming for him.
Almost.
There were claws going for his face, razor-sharp and serrated and way too close for comfort. Dodging, Marc rammed his shoulder into the tiger’s stomach. Claws scraped against the armor at his back.
“Bold!” Minotaurox shouted.
Digging his fingers into the tiger’s sides, Marc yelled and pushed. This one was the size of a small car. Not enormous, but—
Fangs found his shoulder. Pigella and Minotaurox were shouting. There was a heavy strike behind him, the sound of muscle striking the road, and—
Marc screamed.
Nathaniel launched himself into another tiger, kicking it in the ribs.
He managed to twist, landing easily on his hands so King Monkey could jump over him and land a strike of his own. “Nice one, King!” He said. Glancing over his shoulder, King Monkey grinned and nodded. Then, he swept down to slam his staff into one of the tigers’ faces. It was jabbed down another one’s throat.
“Man, I love this thing!” King Monkey said, glancing down at it. “Ruyi Jingu Bang for the win!”
“King, behind you!” Pegasus snapped.
Slicing back with his staff, King Monkey hit another tiger. This one went rolling back. Somewhere, there was a pained scream—let’s hope that wasn’t one of ours—Nathaniel glanced at the akuma, Tigress. She had managed to get on Chat Noir, reaching down to claw at his face. Her claws ripped across his left cheek and eye. Already, blood welled up in the injuries, Chat Noir turned away—
Ladybug’s yo-yo string wrapped around Tigress, yanking her back. “Ladybug, it’s her necklace!” He shouted, propping himself up on his elbows. There was red running down the side of his face now. Carapace hurried to his side, forming a shield. “Break it!”
“Got it!” Grabbing the necklace, Ladybug yanked it from Tigress’ neck and then slammed it into the ground. She crushed it beneath her heel.
Nathaniel didn’t linger long enough for the tigers to turn back into humans. He was already sprinting towards where he had last seen Marc, calling over the lines, “Does anyone have eyes on Rooster Bold?” He barely managed not to add a please onto there.
“We have him!” Viperion said. Or—not quite. It was someone else using their comm, but he was talking over it. “But you might want to hurry. And detransform!”
“Got it.” Dodging into the closest alleyway, Nathaniel tucked Ziggy into his bag with a quiet apology and some apple slices. She touched his hand for a brief moment with her own paw. Then, she was eating, tucked away safely. His loafers slapped against the road. Too loud. They were too loud—or maybe the world was too quiet. He didn’t know which one was right, but it was quiet the same way forests were when predators were nearby. Not good, not good. “Marc? Marc!”
He glanced around frantically. We have him—but you might want to hurry. What does that mean? What did he mean?! Please—he turned in a circle, whipping his head around. Where were they? Where had they been? Come on, come on, think, Nathaniel!
His fingers dug into his hair.
He couldn’t breathe.
He needed to find Marc—he needed to breathe—come on, Nathaniel. Calm down, take a breath, please—you need to find Marc, you need to stay calm. You will stay calm! He pulled his fingers from his hair, ignored the pain of caught tangles, looked around again—
No.
No, no, that’s—that can’t work—that won’t—“MARC!” He sprinted forward.
There was blood everywhere.
On the ground, in between the bricks and concrete and asphalt. On Juleka’s hands, Rose and Ivan and Luka’s clothes. Nathaniel kept running—please, please don’t be dead, I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you, Marc, please—
He dropped to his knees too harshly, feeling the bricks dig into his skin. Then, he was reaching for Marc, hands shaking. In Juleka’s grip, Marc’s fingers were almost bone-white. He should have been holding a pencil. He should have been okay, he should have been—“No. No, Marc, please, please, why didn’t—why didn’t the ladybugs fix this? Why didn’t—”
He dragged his gaze over Marc. There was a deep bite mark in his left shoulder, claw marks dragging from his throat down his chest. His breath rasped in his throat as he gasped for it, laboring for every wheeze. Tears welled in green eyes, he glanced at Nathaniel and tried for something that could have been a smile. Then Ivan was apologizing, pressing his hands more firmly to the gash in Marc’s stomach, and he was crying out.
“Hey, hey, ssh, no, it’s—it’s okay, you’re okay,” Nathaniel managed, pulling Marc’s head into his lap and sitting cross-legged in the blood and dirt and—oh, shit, fuck, what was he going to do about this? How could he fix this? If Marinette’s ladybugs didn’t fix this and it had been caused by the damage—what was the new Hawk Moth doing? How could their villains—no, no, forget the new Hawk Moth. Forget Tigress. Forget everything else, he needed to focus on Marc. Brushing his fingers through Marc’s bloodied black hair, he kept talking. Rambling, really, but— “It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay.”
He was crying. He was crying, and Marc was crying, and Juleka was crying, and Luka and Rose and Ivan were all crying and—
“Na—” Marc wheezed again. His chest looked wrong, there was blood on his fingers where he was holding Juleka’s hand. What happened? Purple Tigress wasn’t even near here—was she a civilian? Can we get him back to the bakery in time? Can we even take him to the bakery? How would he get him there—sewers wouldn’t be safe—he could hear Luka calling someone.
“No, no, don’t try to talk. It’s okay, you’re going—” His breath caught. The words wouldn’t work, his throat was too tight and painful and Nathaniel could barely breathe. There was a twist in his chest, his own heart was struggling. “You’re going to be fine, Marc, I promise.”
His voice cracked and died on the words. Like his own body didn’t want to make a promise it couldn’t keep.
But Marc would be fine.
He had to be.
Staring up at him, green eyes flicking across Nathaniel’s face like he wanted to take it in for the last time and blood smudging the makeup by his left eye so the blue reached his temple and the red was darkened with ruddy brown, Marc swallowed. It was hard fought-for. Everything he was doing was hard fought-for. Every blink, every breath, every shallow shift of his grip on Juleka’s hand. He blinked again, eyes half-closing when they opened again.
No. No, no, don’t— “Marc, keep your eyes open, you gotta stay awake.” Nathaniel was gasping now, too. His face was hot, vision blurry—he couldn’t wipe away the tears, hands on the sides of Marc’s head and cupping his face. “No, you—you’re going to be fine, you have to stay awake—focus on me—focus on—”
“Nath—”
“Stop talking, Marc, you can’t—you can’t talk right now, just—just breathe, just—” He couldn’t tear his gaze away to look at the others. Couldn’t bear to do it—because what if Marc’s eyes were closed when he looked back? What if his breathing stopped? What if that brief second was all it took for Nathaniel to lose him forever, somewhere he couldn’t chase or run to or—
Pegasus landed by them, Ladybug and Chat Noir right behind him.
“We’re here!” Pegasus shouted.
“The base, now!” Luka snapped. There was a portal being opened, Marc was being taken from him—
“No—” Hands wrapped around him. Fighting back, Nathaniel yelled, “No! Let me—let me see him! Let me go, you need to let me—”
He was being dragged to someone’s chest. Kicking, he twisted, tried to get a glance at Marc. The portal rushed around him, around Ivan—Ivan, who was carrying him, who was putting him down on the couch. He tried to get up. Someone else—Alix, that was Alix, she was pulling him down—she was Bunnyx, she’d let him know if something happened, let him know if Marc was going to be okay, she would—Ziggy was crying, why was Ziggy crying—
“Nathaniel, breathe.” Alix’s voice was steady, blue eyes focused on his, “You need to breathe. He’s going to be fine.”
He tried to look.
There were hands on his face. Juleka was right in front of him, crouched down. “Don’t look.” She was shaking. The world was shaking. Or was he shaking? He couldn’t tell, he couldn’t even feel his fingers—there was blood on his hands, there was so much blood, he was—was he dying? He was dying, wasn’t he? “Nathaniel. Look at me.”
He barely could.
Reddish-brown eyes searched his face. There was a hand on his chest. Voice steady, tone even, Juleka kept going, “Do you want Mylène?” He managed to shake his head. “Alright. Then I’ll be right here. Alix, too. We’re going to be right here.”
“I—” He was choking. He couldn’t—he needed to see Marc, he needed—
Alix was holding his hand now, rubbing her thumb across the space between his own and his pointer finger. It was the back of his hand—a weird feeling, right on the ridge of the bone really. But…better. Something to focus on. Juleka had changed—her hair was pulled back in a ponytail the same way it was when she was Purple Tigress.
And he was still breathing harshly. Someone else was there, sitting at his other side—Rose? He was pretty sure it was Rose, or maybe it was—large hand, steady, rubbing between his shoulders. Kim, that was Kim. He was at Nathaniel’s side, rubbing his back and talking quietly. Nathaniel couldn’t exactly make out what he was saying. It was all in Vietnamese, quiet reassurances that made sound but not sense. Not to him, at least. For all he knew, Kim could just be reciting a grocery list and he would have had no idea. It didn’t matter, either. Hell, he would appreciate something as normal as a grocery list at the moment. Grocery lists were normal. Marc getting hurt, Marc almost bleeding out—none of that was normal. It was their normal, but—
“I’m going to throw up.” He wasn’t sure he actually managed to say it as much as just garble out something of the sort, but Kim and Alix were gone by that point and so was Juleka and he saw a flash of Alya’s orange and purple plaid shirt and Nino’s red cap. Then, he was doubling over, mouth filling with acid. Nino’s hands wrapped around his, he was handed a trash can—
Alya’s fingers pulled his hair back, smoothing his bangs away from his face. “We got you, you’re okay.” She said, softly.
“Yeah, dude. We’re right here.”
Nathaniel was a mess. He knew he was. Gently, Alya cleaned off his face with a dish rag or something, even though he knew she hated vomit and his face was probably a mess of that and tears and—whatever. Still, sweet of her to do. Nino was tying his hair back with very gentle hands. “Sorry, sorry—” He started.
“Don’t, dude. It’s fine.” Nino and Alya shared a glance over his head. Someone handed him a cup of water to wash his mouth out with.
He didn’t know how long the panic attack lasted. A blanket ended up laid over his shoulders, Alya and Nino stuck at his side. Juleka had gone to take care of Adrien’s still-scratched face. Kim and Alix, apparently, had been needed with Marc.
And then Marinette walked over.
Crouching down in front of him, she smiled weakly and touched his knee. Glancing at her, Nathaniel swallowed. His fingers were tangled with the blanket around his shoulders—something she had knit, a pale blue thing with dark blue trim around it. It was soft. Still, sitting on the couch with Alya and Nino pressed into either side of him, Nathaniel waited for Marinette to talk first.
“You alright?” She asked, softly.
Nathaniel managed a nod.
“Good.” Taking a slow breath, she said, “Marc’s going to be fine. It took a bit longer because we were out of the potions, but I managed to get one thrown together in time. He’ll be sore and bruised, but the wounds aren’t any worse than a few really minor cuts. Those are just to his chest. It’s kind of like the time that Kim came back from a camping trip and had his leg all scraped up. Do you remember that?”
Nathaniel nodded again. It’d been a couple years before, he’d ended up getting some bad rock rash after sliding down a boulder during his trip. It hadn’t been bad.
“Okay.” Her hands wrapped around his, “He’s fine, Nathaniel. He’s okay.” Weakly, Nathaniel nodded. The world spun a bit.
He slumped into Alya and blacked out.
When he woke up, he was lying on the living room floor with his feet propped up on a pillow and several sleeping bags under the rest of him.
Groaning, Nathaniel tipped his head to the side. He’d woken up like this before—usually when he had been the one hurt, not from passing out. Well, actually, there was one time. He’d had blood testing that day and the combination of patrol, fasting for the draw, and then forgetting to eat lunch as well afterwards, he’d passed out from low blood sugar and slammed face-first into a chimney. Not fun. He’d been taken back to the Dupain-Cheng patisserie. Ziggy had been given peanut butter apple slices, he had been given apple juice because orange juice made him gag, and things were fine. Sabine called his parents, let them know what happened, and then he got the chance to hang out with the rest of the group at the bakery for the night. It had been fun. Marc had teased him relentlessly while also having Nathaniel’s head in his lap while they watched the Chat Noir and Ladybug movie.
Marc was lying on some sleeping bags of his own within arm’s reach. They’d taken off his jacket and the tie-dyed shirt beneath, leaving him in his jeans with bandages wrapped around his neck, shoulders, chest, and stomach. Someone had slipped a pillow beneath his head, his makeup had been removed for him, and one of his hands was resting across his stomach. Reaching out, Nathaniel tried to tangle their fingers together without waking him.
Marc’s eyes flicked open.
Turning his head, he met Nathaniel’s gaze and smiled. It was a lot warmer, a lot stronger, than when he had smiled at Nathaniel last. There were still some bad parts—Marc’s skin was paler than it should have been, there were dark circles under his eyes, his lips had an unhealthy gray tone to them as well. Blood loss, of course. He would get better over time—as of late, with the more violent akumas that the magical ladybugs didn’t seem to fix the same way that they used to. Thankfully, people weren’t blaming Ladybug or the other Miraculers for it. They were blaming the new Hawk Moth for it. But Marc would be able to go in and get in a blood transfusion if he needed it.
(Kagami and Adrien would probably have a harder time explaining their injuries. Everyone had seen Ryuko and Chat Noir get slashed and where they got slashed on camera, it was distributed live, so they were going to have to handle that somehow.)
“You alright?” Marc asked, voice soft and a bit hoarse from sleep.
Staring at him, Nathaniel replied, “You’re asking me that? You could have died.”
Marc kept looking at him for a moment. Sighing softly, he finally said, “Come here.” He let go of Nathaniel’s hand, Nathaniel shoved himself up, and then he was dragging himself the short distance between them to drop down next to him. Not on top of him. He was not going to flop onto his boyfriend. Throwing an arm carefully over his stomach, Nathaniel just laid down next to him, facedown in Marc’s borrowed pillow. There was a soft snort, gentle fingers brushing through his hair. “Are you alright? You didn’t answer me.”
“I’m fine.” Nathaniel replied. Closing his eyes, relaxing a bit more, he added, “You smell nice.”
“Pretty sure I don’t.” Marc laughed, softly. “You sure you’re alright, Nathaniel?”
“Just tired.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Nath, you’re shaking.” The tone was concerned—too concerned. Raising his head, Nathaniel shrugged. His fingers were shaking. As Marc’s hand settled on his back, between his shoulders, he just waited and looked down at his own hands. He was shaking. Badly. Marc’s fingernails were still too pale, tinged by blood loss just like his lips were. Looking down, Nathaniel grabbed Marc’s other hand, pulled it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “Nath.”
“Just the aftereffects of a panic attack and passing out. I’ll be alright.” He promised, looking at Marc again. Night had fallen while he and Marc were out, turning the Dupain-Cheng living room dark purple and blue. Little bits of golden light streamed through the parted curtains leading to the balcony. He had a feeling that the other boys were all in the Dupain-Cheng guest room, and the girls were up in Marinette’s loft. They could have all fit in the living room, but they weren’t allowed to do that anymore, thanks to Kim. And Alix, of course. Technically, Alix was the instigator, but Kim had chosen to do what he did and then spent the next week working at the bakery and helping Tom and Sabine fix the window.
“Nath. You haven’t had one of those in so long—”
“Because of my medication. I still have them occasionally.” It was his turn to insist he was fine, evidently, “I’m okay, Marc.”
They ended up shuffling around a bit, leaving Nathaniel lying on his side and Marc still on his back, fingers tangled together with their hands resting between them but otherwise not touching too much. At best, Marc was bruised and sore. If not—well, he needed rest either way. And also…Nathaniel had a tendency to kick when he slept half the time, he woke up with the blankets halfway off. And he really didn’t want to kick his boyfriend at the moment.
Tucking his free hand behind his head, Marc stared up at the ceiling. “We never did get to finish our date.” He lamented.
“That’s okay. We can finish it later, right?”
“Yeah.” Smiling, Marc added, “Though we might need to get new ingredients. If my mother hasn’t already made the vanilla cupcakes herself. You know how she can be about wasting food.”
He shifted, then winced, pain flashing across his face.
Still holding his hand, Nathaniel shoved himself up, “Marc—”
“I’m fine, I’m okay. Just—” Squeezing his eyes shut, grip tightening on Nathaniel’s hand, Marc forced out, “Just a bit sore. I’m okay.”
Looking at him, brows furrowing, Nathaniel let out a breath. He brushed Marc’s hair away from his forehead, leaned down, and kissed above his eyebrow. There was a hum, a soft smile. “Alright. I’ll believe you. But can I get you anything? Do you need anything?”
Ziggy and Orikko popped up, the former already sobbing and the latter holding an entire corn cob that he was currently eating. “I need a hug!” Ziggy wailed.
Frowning, Marc held out a hand, saying, “Aw, Ziggy. Poor thing.”
Ziggy practically launched herself into him. “You were—it was so scary—but I couldn’t show myself and I wanted to help and—”
She kept on going, and Marc glanced Nathaniel’s way with a smile. As for Orikko, despite not showing his worry outwardly, he fluttered around their heads. Nathaniel settled back down, squeezing Marc’s hand again. He settled down with a soft sigh.
(Thankfully, it only took a few apple slices to calm Ziggy down.
Okay, a lot of apple slices.
Worth it.)
The next day, Adrien showed up to school with a giant medical patch over one eye.
Their teacher stared at him in concern, brows knitted together. “Don’t worry! I was moving some stuff around my room after the akuma attacked and managed to punch myself in the face. Guess Marinette is rubbing off on me.” Adrien shrugged with a sheepish smile. At his side, Marinette hummed and leaned to the side, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Then, her expression changed.
“Hey! I’m not that clumsy.”
“Yes, you are.” Everyone else in the class said at the same time. Face flushing, Marinette went to her seat. Adrien patted her on the back. His eyes met Nathaniel’s, he said something to Nino, and then he was hurrying up the next few steps. He slipped once—Nathaniel sat up—
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Guess my depth perception isn’t purr-fect right now.” Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands. Standing at Nathaniel’s side, Adrien leaned down, asking, “How’s Marc doing?”
“Fine. How’s Kagami? And how are you?” His eyes flicked to the patch.
“Marc had the worst injury, actually. Kagami has some bruising and a few scrapes, but nothing concerning. It’s probably more annoying if anything, and she has a doctor’s note permitting her to stay home today.” Nathaniel nodded.
“Monsieur Agreste, if you would come take your usual seat?” Their teacher said, clearing her throat.
“Right.” Turning, Adrien winked at Nathaniel as he went down to his seat.
Nathaniel watched him for a moment, then turned to the front so he could pass the time until he could see Marc again.