It had been far, far too long since he'd seen her, but the business of a band didn't tend to keep regular banker's - or was that baker's? - hours. And it had forced him to travel far afield of Paris for weeks at a time, something that could easily stretch the flexibility of even the strongest of relationships. Pressing his forehead against the cold glass of the window, Luka closed his eyes and hoped – prayed, perhaps – that he'd not stayed away too long this time. For as close and connected as he felt he had been with Marinette, it was clear from their last FaceTime together that he might have made one trip too many.

His eyes watched as the edges of Paris finally pulled into view, silently thankful he'd saved up enough to get himself on the first bullet train back from Madrid. He'd left the rest of his band behind in the capable hands of their manager, intent on returning to the city and the woman he loved. Slowly banging his head against the window, he beat himself up one last time for taking the gig in Spain; Jagged had convinced him it was the best option for his newly-minted solo career, though it had gone against every instinct to accept. For even a few weeks earlier, he could feel the chill that had descended between them.

Had he placed his career above his love for the woman he'd purported to do anything for? If he had, it was a mistake he hoped he could undo just as easily as Second Chance could rewind time. Sliding his sleeve up, he stared at the bracelet, still awed by both the power it represented and the deep trust the person who had bestowed it upon him clearly felt. Guilt washed over him again, for he'd tried to give it back to Ladybug the first time music had sent him from Paris; she'd confidently told him he'd be back, and she'd been waiting. He had, and she had – though each succeeding time, her smile welcoming him back had become a bit more practiced, her ease at his reappearance, less. Much like Marinette, in not so many words Ladybug had told him how she felt about his increasingly lengthy disappearances.

If Luka were being honest, by rights he should have passed the Snake Miraculous on to someone else long ago; some part of his heart, though, was reluctant to give up that singular connection he had to Ladybug, and the excuse it provided him to hurry back to Paris and be with Marinette. And yet, he'd not been much of a teammate as of late, had he? One more thing for the guilt train he was riding.

His musings were cut short when the train suddenly lurched sideways, throwing him out of his seat and into the aisle; before he could get his bearings, it came to an abrupt stop, causing him to tumble toward the forward part of the compartment. Despite years of being a superhero making him far more limber and nimbler than most, he still wound up smashing his head into the bulkhead, hard; semi-dazed, he had enough presence of mind to protectively fling up his arms to help soften the landing for the two other passengers who landed on top of him. As the lights flickered and then died, plunging the car into semi-darkness, moans from the injured began to fill the air.

Ignoring the throbbing in his head and what also appeared to be a sprained wrist, he gingerly began pushing himself up, checking the other passengers that had landed with him in a heap as he did so; as he tried to stand, he realized the car itself appeared tipped forward at a forty-five degree angle. The smell of shorting electrical equipment began to fill the air, and he knew in a flash he could provide more help transformed.

Frantically he blinked back the double-vision from his aching head and fruitlessly looked for some way to hide long enough to become Viperion, cursing slightly that the restrooms were at the other end of the car. As the seconds ticked away and the acrid odor of smoldering plastic became nearly too much to bear, he managed to clear a path to the vestibule door and tried to pull it open. It moved a fraction of a meter, the jamb clearly twisted; exiting that way wasn't happening. Billowing smoke had begun to issue through the ventilation system, telling him the fire was likely in the electronics running along the roof. Spurred on by the density, he began to push his fellow passengers toward the middle of the car and where he thought he remembered seeing emergency exit placards.

The dim emergency lights were quickly overwhelmed by the smoke, and he put a hand to his face, trying to keep from breathing the ash. Each breath felt like inhaling needles, and he fought the urge to cough. Most of his fellow passengers were simply as bruised as he was, but when he located the windows in question, a young woman blocked his path and was howling in pain where she lay in the aisle, her ankle at a nauseating angle. Setting his expression, he leaned down. "This is going to hurt," he said as he stifled a cough and ignored the shooting pain from his injured wrist as he snaked his arms beneath her, "but I need to get you to safety. Close your eyes and trust me."

Nearly hyperventilating, the woman nonetheless nodded, and squeezed her eyes shut. He waited a fraction of a moment and then lifted her, trying to shut down his ears at the shriek of pain as her ankle moved; stumbling slightly against the inclined walkway, he slid sideways across the seats and gently put her down in the angled seat – or, at least he hoped it was the seat, for the smoke was suffocatingly dense now, making it nearly impossible to see.

Turning to the window, he pressed his hands to the smooth glass and ran them up and then sideways, locating by feel the emergency handle; without hesitation, he yanked it down, and was rewarded with the glass falling out and fresh air rushing in. As he bent down to pick up the young woman once again, he heard and then felt another gust of air as someone repeated the same operation on the far side of the car; the thick clouds cleared slightly, enough that he was able to see a familiar set of glowing green feline eyes framed by what was left of the window.

"Chat!" he called out. "Over here!"

One leap and the feline superhero was beside him; without saying a word, he took the woman from Luka and cleanly vaulted out the window. Luka had barely enough time to process how quickly Chat had vanished before he felt an arm around his own waist. A moment later, he found himself sailing across the early evening and being gently lowered to the grassy berm beside what was left of the bullet train.

Coughing freely now, and feeling like he was going to puke the light dinner he'd had, Luka looked up through streaming eyes at the intense masked blue ones that were looking him over critically. "Are you all right?" Ladybug asked.

"Just a bit of smoke," Luka croaked. "What happened?"

"Akuma," Ladybug replied succinctly, her worried eyes shifting to look back at the train.

The message was implicit, and Luka stifled another cough just as she turned back. "I'll transform," he said simply, and started to haul himself over the edge of the knoll for a little more privacy.

A hand to his arm paused him. "Are you sure?" Ladybug asked quickly. "You might be injured-"

"I'm fine," Luka said to one of the two Ladybugs of his double vision. Smiling the crooked smile he knew she liked, he added, "Just give me a moment to catch my breath."

"Okay," she said, though he knew she was torn. Clearly the akuma was all that and then some; but she was also genuinely worried about her team member. She waited another moment and then threw her yo-yo into the air, swiftly heading back into the smoke and flames of the crash.

Luka waited until she was far enough away to slump back on the grass. Sass floated up to his face as he stared at the gathering darkness. "Are you ssssure you want to do this?" the tiny snake-themed kwami asked. "A little resssst might be in order—"

Shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut at the migraine, Luka didn't want to argue with his normally companionable tiny god. "Ladybug needs me," he said quietly.

"Luka-"

"Sass – scales slither!"

The wave of transformation washed over him, silencing his kwami's objections; as Viperion attempted to stand up, his vision swam again and he knew right away the Miraculous magic wouldn't mask his injuries. Setting his jaw, though, he was determined to help Ladybug, and gritted his teeth against the pain as he leapt into the fray, for there was no way he was going to let her down.

Not like Marinette.