Blink. Breathe.
He had screwed up. Too busy flirting, too busy showing off to pay any attention. He had thought this was just another attack. The akuma didn't even seem that strong.
Another blink, another breath. Another second gone.
He had missed a jump. He couldn't quite catch the roof's ledge and ended up swiping at thin air. Of course in that split second the akuma (Pencil Pusher, honestly Hawkmoth?) had seen his slipup and decided that Chat's chest was a perfect object to impale with a comically large and sharp No. 2 pencil. But Ladybug, wonderful sweet Ladybug, was prepared. A quick flick of her wrist and Chat found himself wrapped snugly in her yo-yo and soaring away from the deadly pencil. He had landed hard face down on the roof, his bangs falling into his face obscuring his view. The scent of graphite and iron reached his sensitive nose. He was confused; the roof was tar, where was the iron coming from?
Blink. Breathe.
He looked up. Ladybug was standing above him her eyes wide. She stumbled, an uncharacteristic thing for her to do, she was grace personified, and her yo-yo fell from her limp hand. Somewhere in the background Chat could hear a laugh. It was loud and slightly hysterical; more a laugh of someone watching their world fall apart than a laugh of joy. The laugh was broken by a manic voice proclaiming that they were an expert at multi-tasking.
Blink. Breathe.
Ladybug fell forward. Twisting awkwardly on the way down she landed heavily on her side. What looked to be three dozen sharpened and deadly pencils protruded from her unprotected back. Her suit was turning darker red and the spots were becoming obscured. Again the smell of iron hit Chat's nose. Realization slowly dawned on him. A sickening chill settled over him.
Blink… Breathe…
No… No… no no no no no no no no NO! She had been paying attention to him! She had saved him! She didn't notice… she couldn't dodge… she got….no, no.
Blink…
Blink…
As if on cue Ladybug's transformation began to end. A soft pink light traveling up her body leaving a bleeding girl and an unconscious kawami laying on the bloody rooftop. With her transformation went her yo-yo. Chat was freed to push himself up onto his elbows and stare. It was Marinette. Of course it was Marinette.
Blink…
Chat could feel Plagg struggling in his mind. Fighting against a numbness and cold that had descended the moment he had first smelled graphite. Plagg wanted him to do something, but he didn't know, or really care, what.
Blink…
Chat lifted his head. The akuma was stumbling across the roof with tears running down its face. Oh, the victim. The innocent soul trapped and corrupted was still aware of what was going on. They had just killed their hero. And now they were moving towards her body….Her Miraculous. Of course. Hawkmoth only ever had one goal.
Blink…
Chat slowly sat up. Leaning forward he reached for the small red creature who was barely breathing. He picked it, her?, up gently. Plagg was screaming at him again. Carefully, Chat placed her in one of his pockets, it wasn't comfortable, but he couldn't leave her vulnerable. The akuma was moving closer, muttering to itself, and making jerky movements as if it were fighting with itself. Without thinking, Chat reached to Marinette and removed her earrings. They felt cold through his gloves. Placing them with the kawami, he leaned back and looked at Marinette. He should be feeling something. He should be sad, or angry, or distraught, or confused, but he wasn't. He was just blank. Her death had registered, but he could not react, he had nothing to react with.
Blink…
The akuma. He needed to end this fight. Was it still a fight? How long has he been sitting on the roof? How long had he not been breathing?
Blink…Breathe…
He looked down at his hands, the black leather coated with dark red blood. His ring shone through the grime a striking green. He felt stronger for some reason. Plagg was shouting about balance and good luck and bad, and how without her he had more power but less control. He didn't care.
Blink. Breathe…
He was going to end this now.
Breathe.
"CATACLYSM!"
So this is what happens when I really want to write something, having no inspiration, find a depressing song on a friend's blog, and deciding that I'm going to see what word vomit I could produce while listening to the song. And of course it was dark.