Chapter 12
Somehow, by sheer force of will, Nino finished his lunch without tipping Alya off that he was within an inch of throwing up that delicious chicken he'd ordered. He'd only had one migraine before this— a nasty side-effect from a medication— but Nino swore it wasn't as bad as this one. There was the additional pain in his neck, now, and he was pretty sure that aura around Alya wasn't because she was heaven-sent.
Duusu cuddled up under his turtleneck, and her magic was enough to dispel the nausea and dizziness at the back of his throat. Now only if the sun could stop shining so damn brightly.
They were on the metro when Duusu prodded Nino's temple. "Ladybug is calling," she harshly whispered in his ear, just above the headache-inducing sound of the train against the rails. Had it always been so loud?
When Alya gave him a look, Nino swatted at the air with his free hand. Swaying on his feet by the strap above his head, he said, "Bees. Annoying."
"Or lice?" she teased, ruffling his hair.
Duusu's cry of disgust was muffled by the metro screeching to a halt. She got over it and proceeded to prod him in the chest with her paw. Nino managed to walk Alya to her house without squinting at the sun too much. He pecked her cheek and said, "Don't go running off to punch Chloé's dad in the face."
Alya smooched him on the lips to do away with his grin. "No promises. I would much rather get my hands on Ladybug or our newest hero for an interview. Sucks that we don't have their point of view on this."
Yeah, Nino would hold off on the interviews, thank you very much.
He waited until her door shut before walking away. With a quick glance behind him, Nino ducked into the nearest alleyway and tugged at the neck of his turtleneck. Duusu flew, opened her mouth, but Nino had to get his word in. "Man, not cool," he groused. "You don't do that to a guy who's on a date with his girl."
Duusu crossed her paws. "It's obvious Paris is seeking words of comfort and assurance. You have to meet up with Ladybug to talk about it." When he kept on frowning, she sighed. "Nino, this is very important."
"So is this," he said with a wave to the general direction of Alya's house. Besides, he rather hang out with someone who actually wanted to be around him, not someone who probably wanted to drop kick him into the Seine.
Duusu cocked her head, eyes glancing up to the sky. "She hasn't stopped calling. Please transform to clear my head." Her gazed softened. "And I'm sure the power of the active Miraculous will help with your migraine."
Nino rolled his eyes, and even that slight movement caused his head throb. "I got it, I got it. Wings Up."
True to her word, the power dulled the migraine into a manageable ache. He could still feel the frustration of Paris, but he wasn't seeing it through a nausea-inducing kaleidescope this time. It felt diluted, manageable, like wearing a coat against the chilling wind.
Régalien jumped up to the rooftop without his earlier dizziness. When the last glow of his transformation faded away, his communicator beeped. Unhooking it he hesitated, going through a round of mental math to calculate how long he had kept Ladybug waiting. Really, it felt like an eternity.
Giving up, he pressed the button on the communicator, opened his fan, and was greeted by Ladybug's frowning face reflected through the polished metal of the feathers. Régalien couldn't make out what the blurred background behind her could be.
"That took you a while," she grumbled.
Already irritable, Régalien glared back. "I have a life besides this. If you must know," he elaborated, "I was on a date with my girlfriend."
Ladybug's face flushed Marinette's iconic red. She stole a glance to something off screen before facing him again. "I hope you had fun…"
There was an awkward silence where they both stared—yet tried not to stare— at each other and remembered how they left off last time. Régalien glanced at the ear that had almost been ripped off before averting his eyes to the very interesting garden on someone's apartment balcony.
He should say something. Maybe ask how she—
Ladybug cleared her throat, turning Régalien's focus back on her. Her screen bobbed as she adjusted the grip on her communicator. A flash of concrete and leather rushed by before he face came back. "I assume you saw the announcement."
"It was lovely," Régalien deadpanned.
Ladybug spared an eye roll. "Just meet me at the Louvre. I'll be at one of the rooftops."
She cut the connection without further explanation. Régalien stared into his distorted reflection on the feathers before he closed his fan.
Marinette was Alya's best friend. Did she know about the date already? Could she connect the dots between the date her best friend went on and the date of a superhero she just happened to work with?
Régalien shrugged his shoulders, trying not to dwell on what he couldn't control. If it wasn't for his powers, he wouldn't have known who Ladybug was. If Chat Noir's Miraculous hadn't been knocked off, Adrien wouldn't have been discovered.
It would take more than a slip of the tongue to out him.
Picking up her emotional string, Régalien began to move through the rooftops. Ladybug's anxiety bled into his palms, fueling his leaps. People popped up under him, and their emotions pooled when they glanced up at him. Régalien briefly reached out to them and felt their anger, curiosity, and pity. Their shouts rose when he soared above them, then fell when he cleared the block. When more people popped up from cafés, metro stops, and stores, Régalien ignored them and continued on his own.
Régalien tugged on Ladybug's string to keep himself moving, to dodge the glares and the obvious finger pointing. There was nothing he could do about them. Whatever he said would be taken out of context and picked apart. They would all have to wait until the conference.
And then what?
What would he even say? Public speaking wasn't one of his powers. There was an entire city ready pin blame, and the last time a camera was on him, the most coherent idea he managed to string together was his name. Truly an act to be marveled.
Clearing the Seine, the Louvre buildings rose up. Landing on one of the roofs of the Denon wing, Régalien clutched his communicator, thumb poised to press the button in case of a call. Stopping at the edge of the rooftop, he held his breath. The wind whistled in his ears. People— the majority tourists— pounded the sidewalks, most taking pictures of the Louvre pyramid and the surrounding decor.
When his communicator pressed into his glove hard enough to hurt, Régalien murmured a curse. "Get it together, dude. He's not here."
The Cloaked Man showed up at night, after all.
Figuring no call was coming, Régalien followed the row of rooftops until he made out Ladybug above the Porte des Arts. Ignoring the palpable chatter of the people in the plaza, Régalien came up to her. "Here I am," he announced only loud enough for her to hear.
Their eyes met, and without a screen between them, the awkwardness was enough to make him wish someone spotted them, just so he could conversation. Ladybug straightened from her crouch, not quite knowing what to do with her yo-yo, while Régalien walked up and tried to guess how close was too close. He settled for arm's length away, just close enough to catch Ladybug biting her bottom lip.
Ladybug started, not meeting his eye, "Sorry about earlier. I didn't realize you were, umm, occupied."
Régalien shook his head, although he was sure Ladybug didn't catch it. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He wasn't going to dig himself into a deeper hole by blabbering about it. A clueless Ladybug was the best Ladybug.
"So about this conference—"
"Is that all you're going to say?" Ladybug hissed.
Régalien deflated. Just like that, that lump in his throat came back, muting him.
Ladybug stared until he felt like he was an annoying bug she had the misfortune to notice. Tears soon sprung to her eyes. "I want to hate you," she eventually told him, voice deathly quiet. "All last night, when I couldn't sleep, all I could think was about how you didn't stick to the plan and Chat Noir got hurt."
Régalien managed to say, "I never meant for that to happen."
She was shaking now, arms down at her sides, fists clenched tight enough for her knuckles to show through her suit. Ladybug took a deep breath. "I know, and that's why I can't hate you." She sat back down, and she addressed the shingles at her feet instead of him. "Chat and I have been doing this for a year, and you've had your Miraculous for less than a week. Do you know what kind of things I've done my first week? Stoneheart's akuma multiplied and got Chloé Bourgeois thrown off the Eiffel Tower. The only reason no one died is because the Cure was actually working."
Régalien crouched down to try and meet her eyes. He'd almost forgotten how Paris' darling almost died at the hands of Hawkmoth's first akuma. Of course everything had turned out alright at the end, but apparently Marinette had been living with the guilt for well over a year. She stiffened, well aware he could read her even if her expression was adamantly remaining still as stone.
"You didn't know that would happen," he said gently.
"And you didn't know Chat would get hurt if you jumped in after I was hurt." Ladybug fingered the ear that had been nothing but blood just a day before. "I honestly don't know how useful I would have been if you hadn't stepped in. If it wasn't for my Miraculous, I'm pretty sure I would have passed out from the pain."
"I'm really sorry I didn't stick to the plan," he repeated as earnestly as he could.
"I know you are. Master Fu mentioned after you left that you and your Kwami were going to work on some meditation or something…?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for some clarification.
Of all the things she wanted to know about his powers, it was this. Régalien tried not to outwardly frown. "It's, umm, something to control the emotions I get from Seeing Eye. They kinda linger around after I cast it. So I feel the anger if I take anger and all that."
Ladybug's eyes widened, no doubt making the connection between the Seeing Eye he performed mid-battle and his hair-brained decision of confronting Verglas.
"When Verglas hurt you,"— though hurt was such a tame word for what really happened— "I felt so much anger. I know some of it was mine because come on, he almost ripped your ear off. But I swear, outside the mask, I'm not that trigger happy."
"I didn't know," Ladybug said on a breath.
Neither did he, and here they were.
"And Master Fu didn't tell you before?"
There were a lot of things Master Fu hadn't told him, but Régalien figured right now wasn't the time to point them all out. "My Kwami told me about the emotion part, not the whole meditation-for-prevention part. I mean, I've been a hero for less than a week, so there probably wasn't that much time."
There he was, defending Duusu again. But she had been trying her best, always telling him what he needed to do and why. She'd been his biggest supporter since this whole thing started.
Figuring the awkwardness had extended long enough, Régalien offered his hand. Ladybug took it, stood up, and they were both finally facing each other. Totally avoiding the fact that both she and Chat Noir knew each other's identities because of him, he said instead, "So about that conference…"
"Not here," she cut him off, already unhooking her yo-yo. "We need to discuss this as a team. Chat Noir's taking it easy right now. No big rooftop jumps for him." She chuckled at his clueless expression. "I'll explain on the way. Just follow."
Ladybug threw her yo-yo at a chimney outside the museum's property and leaped off. Régalien followed, glad to leave the curious eyes of tourists and Parisians alike. Catching up with her, he asked, "Where are we going?"
They cleared streets without pause. Ladybug stuck to the towering chimneys and the back of billboards, moving effortlessly from the Parisian sun to the shadows. Her yo-yo remained wound and clutched in her hand. "Our hideout," she explained once they left a busy shopping district.
"I knew it!" Régalien shut his mouth at Ladybug's stern glance. This was probably the most intimate thing that Ladybug and Chat Noir shared between them, and now a near stranger was coming in. He couldn't treat it like some kind of bet he won. "I mean, I guessed you guys had something like that going on."
Ladybug hummed. "It makes it easier to talk about things without someone recording our every move. Especially nowadays."
They left the first arrondissement. Régalien reigned in his bout of giddiness. They trusted him enough to invite him, even if it was because Chat Noir was in no shape to climb five stories.
He tried to memorize as many landmarks and street signs as he could. Some he knew, but for the most part he was passing by unfamiliar territory. As Régalien, he had only begun to explore the rooftops of Paris, and as Nino he had been limited to where he needed to go.
Ladybug stopped behind a billboard announcing a movie that premiered over two years ago. Gesturing him over, she peeked behind the boards, towards the street. It was like any other street in Paris: busy and crowded. "Do you see that restaurant right there?"
Régalien hummed. "The Italian one? Looks good, but I'm watching my figure."
She slapped his arm, but the small smile was still there. "Come on, focus." Ladybug pulled him closer by a sleeve. "Behind the restaurant, there's a group of buildings that are empty but were never fully demolished." She pointed to a cluster of buildings just as unremarkable as the rest of them. "Ours is the third one to the right. We're getting in on foot."
"Ehh," he groaned, the bird in him clinging to the three-story height.
Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Woman up. Sometimes you have to get those tail feathers of yours dirty."
Ladybug cleared the street when traffic moved, jumped on the restaurant's roof, and dropped down into the encroaching darkness of an alleyway. Régalien picked his jaw up from the floor and followed. A hideout and jokes? Maybe she wasn't that mad at him after all.
When he dropped down among the dumpsters, Ladybug took off further into the network of buildings. Under the shadows of the buildings, her suit was muted into a hazy blotch of red. They hopped over two walls and stopped in front of a grimy dumpster whose tags were too faded to read.
"Lovely place you got here," Régalien muttered, both gloved hands on his nose.
She scrunched up her nose. "You'll get used to it, but seriously, who's going to search for superheroes when the whole blocks smells like rotting fish?"
Régalien straightened. If she could handle the smell, then so could he. "Sure, of course. Or maybe you lost your sense of smell a long time ago."
"That's still a possibility." Ladybug placed her hands on the dumpster. "Chat and I keep the dumpster full not just to keep it smelly but to make sure it's always too heavy for someone to move it."
With strength no normal human possessed, Ladybug pushed the dumpster and revealed an uneven hole in the brick wall. Loose bricks shook then settled. A warm light spilled onto the bleak concrete. Ladybug dusted off her hands and gave an elaborate bow more suited for Chat Noir. "And welcome to our fine establishment."
Régalien stepped over the littered bricks and trash and into a sparsely furnished living room bigger than his own. The carpet was thinned by wear and tear but clean, what once a minty green transformed into washed out gray. Whatever rubble and loose wires that once inhabited the place had been cleared away to make for two floor lamps. Beyond the carpet's perimeter was a buzzing mini fridge powered by a small generator.
And in the center of it all, under strands of Christmas lights, Chat Noir looked up from the couch, a cup of ramen balanced between his knees. "Glad you could make it," he said with a raised, plastic fork.
Adrien Agreste eating pre-heated food in a back alley was the last thing he expected to see on a Saturday afternoon.
Yet the sight brought a new wave of tears to his eyes.
He'd seen Adrien model before, but this was far stiffer than any photoshoot he'd seen of him. Chat Noir was propped up by multiple cushions, legs out straight. The side where that hideous cut had been was turned away from the sofa cushions, his free arm out of the way and instead laid across the couch's back.
"Should you really be here with your injuries?" Régalien asked after he swallowed the nerves.
"It's fine." Chat Noir waved his fork at him, sending a noodle flying to the carpet. "Just a scratch."
"That wasn't a scratch," Régalien pointed out.
He dared to come closer. This close, he noted how Chat Noir clenched his jaw, shifting just enough under his gaze to make it obvious how trapped he was on that couch. Chat Noir was not one to be so still and lifeless. It was like watching a bird with its wings recently clipped.
"I'm sorry," Régalien started for the second time that day.
Chat Noir glanced down at his instant ramen. "It's okay," he eventually said. "It's over, and I know you didn't mean for me to get hurt. It was bound to happen anyway. Master Fu told you about the whole Cure-making-certain-people-a-priority thing, right?"
He said it so casually that Régalien instinctively drew closer, drawing Chat Noir's eyes to him. The urge to shake Adrien by the shoulders was all-consuming, but Régalien settled for fixing him with the best stern-mom gaze he could manage. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you should get hurt. You're not expendable. You're more than just a shield."
"You've known me for what, three days?" Chat Noir sounded bemused.
If only he knew.
Régalien shook his head. "That doesn't mean I don't feel like shit for what happened. No one can replace you."
Chat Noir scraped the bottom of his ramen cup, until he said, voice above a whisper, "Not a lot of people say stuff like that to me, you know?"
Hoe could Régalien feel so touched yet so sad at the same time? "Then maybe we'll have to remind you more often on just how irreplaceable you really are."
The dumpster groaned, announcing the end to that heartfelt moment, and closed them off from the outside world; only the light from the floor lamps and the fairy lights bathed the makeshift living room in a warm, orange glow.
"Sweet, sweet privacy," Ladybug sing-songed, coming up beside Régalien and definitely ignoring the fact she overheard their conversation. "It's not much, but it's our little home away from home."
"It's not bad at all," Régalien finally said, staring up at the lights hanging above their heads. "Thanks for inviting me in."
Chat Noir laid his food to the side. He gingerly leaned back into the sofa cushions to have both of them in his sight— just how bad were his injuries?. His smile was small and tentative. "It's not a problem. I mean, you would have found it eventually, with your powers and all."
Oh, right, the whole invade their privacy through emotions thing. Régalien rubbed the back of his neck to keep himself from fidgeting. "I don't know. It's pretty well-hidden."
"Better to invite you in than have you surprise us one day." Ladybug laughed, but when Régalien remained quiet she broke off.
But they had said enough. Maybe they still thought him as part of the team, but this little hideout, away from the prying eyes of Paris, had always been theirs: Ladybug and Chat Noir's and now Marinette and Adrien's.
Régalien forced a smile even as that little hope he'd bee nursing burned away. "Nah, I get it, I get it."
"So this conference," Chat Noir started with a loud exhale. Brandishing his fork, he opened his mouth, closed it, then sank into the couch cushions. He let his hand swing down. "I got nothing. Bourgeois left me speechless. Me! Speechless!"
"Truly a gift," Ladybug quipped, letting herself sit on the floor by his head.
They leaned against each other, her head against his shoulder. Chat Noir idly played with some loose strands of her pigtail. Their strings entwined in a growing sense of calm.
Régalien bit back a proud smile. His lack of meddling did something good after all.
Taking care to leave the strings far away from his hands, Régalien perched on the armrest at the far end of the couch. "It royally sucks. Like, just calling us out like that. You guys totally gave an awesome announcement about the whole Volpina deal last week."
"We did ignore it for a while." Ladybug frowned, picking at a black spot in her knee and totally not swatting the black claw in her hair. "We didn't do anything until Master Fu told us to. Paris was worried when we had all the answers."
Chat Noir tilted his head to try and catch her eye. He only succeeded in dislodging a noodle that had been on the edge of his lips. "Hey, come on, nothing happened just because we waited a while."
Ladybug sighed. "Yeah, but what if something did? People thought we had another hero for like, a week. What if someone thought Volpina was coming to save them and no one ever did?"
Chat Noir reached out to stop her fidgeting hands, but he could only reach her shoulder. Ladybug glanced up and flushed. Chat Noir withdrew his hand, grabbed his food, and took an enormous forkful of ramen that he had no hope of swallowing anytime soon.
Oh God, were they awkward.
Régalien pointedly avoided staring at the adorable display and said instead, "Bourgeois is just mad they didn't corner us for an interview while Chat was freaking bleeding to death." Even though Chamack had been close enough to do so.
"I wasn't bleeding to death," Chat Noir grumbled through his mouthful of noodles.
Régalien shrugged. "Didn't stop us from worrying."
"They are upset we haven't been forthcoming about all of his, but," Ladybug dropped her head into her propped hands, boring holes into the back of the dumpster at the entrance, "they don't understand that if we say too much Hawkmoth is going to hit twice as hard. Who knows how much Hawkmoth knows about what's going on with the Cure?"
Chat Noir swallowed the last of his ramen. "So we figure out what we can say and give them that. No questions. No elaboration."
"The people deserve more than that." Ladybug chewed her lip in thought. She mindlessly worried her yo-yo strapped to her side. When no one said anything, she turned back and raised her eyebrows. "I know we can't say too much, but like, I think about my family and how they should know what's really going on."
Régalien thought of his parents, who left their family and their life in Morocco for a chance at a better life in Paris. They deserved to know what was happening— and might happen— to the kids that stood between them and Hawkmoth. Their own son could die, and they wouldn't know exactly why.
He could only guess if Adrien was thinking of his father— though Gabriel Agreste might actually know what was going on if Master Fu trusted him with the Peacock Miraculous and the Grimoire.
"We'll them the what but not the how." Chat Noir stirred the ramen. "The bare necessities."
"Just the bare necessities." Régalien nodded. Good, so not a lot of talking. He could do that. "So like, when it comes to me, we're not going to like, give them a player's guide on what I can do or anything, right?"
Chat Noir stabbed the air with his fork. "And give Hawkmoth the edge? Not a chance."
Ladybug twisted and grabbed the fork from his hand. "Okay, no more ramen for you. You can afford better, anyway."
Régalien laughed. He laughed harder when their eyes snapped to him. Digging the toes of his boots into the sofa to keep himself from toppling over, Régalien said, "Hey, let the boy eat. He almost died."
Chat Noir pouted. "Yeah, I almost died."
Ladybug shuffled away, fork and all. "Okay, but seriously, let's figure out what is going to be said and what's going to be kept under wraps. I know we don't know everything, but we can still start planning."
Régalien leaned forward toward them. Better to start than be waiting for his turn. "So last time, I just said my name and that I wasn't an akuma, which wasn't the greatest first impression. This time I was thinking that I could start off by— " He trailed off when both of them shared a look. It was the same look they had used when he first came into the Diamantte fight.
Ladybug's mask creased. "I don't think it would be the best idea if you spoke at the conference."
Régalien wanted to ask why, but he already knew the answer to that.
Ladybug squared her shoulders. "You said it yourself you're not the type of person to just jump into a situation. And Seeing Eye makes you…" Ladybug gestured with her hands, "… act out." Unstable, is what she really wanted to say.
Chat Noir looked at them both for clarification, and as Ladybug filled him in about exactly what Seeing Eye did to his head, Régalien felt the shame rising from the collar of his costume. "It's not like I'm going to get into an akuma fight before the conference," he responded, interrupting her mid-explanation.
"We don't know that," Ladybug countered. "And what if the after effects last longer than last time? What if you're still irrationally angry or frustrated when the conference comes later that day?"
Régalien searched for something to say— and even waited for Duusu chime in— but he couldn't promise something like that wouldn't happen. He'd used Seeing Eye only two times so far during battle. Yeah, the effects went away, but unlike the countdown for de-transformation there was no set timer for when everything was out of his system.
"I'm going to start working on that with my Kwami," Régalien added in, but he still saw Ladybug's decision on her face. So instead he tried, "Paris needs to know at least something about me, coming from me."
"And they will," she assured him, hands lowered, "but right now is not the best time. They know you're not an akuma, and that's the most important thing."
Chat Noir drew closer, glancing between them before admitting, with some hesitancy, "Ladybug has the best camera presence. She can say just what Paris needs. We can't afford to let something slip."
Régalien fisted his hands on his lap to keep his composure. "I'm not going to say anything I shouldn't. But if the people don't get a chance to hear me, then how they are going to trust me?"
"It's not like that," Ladybug insisted. Her voice was firm, steady. She held him in place with her gaze. "We all have our jobs to do here, and mine is to lead us. I can get the mayor and the people off our backs." Her face softened. "We know it wasn't your fault that Chat got injured, and it'll be the first thing I'll mention about you."
It was like being in the middle of a group project with no say in the matter. Régalien looked from one to another, but neither budged. "But it should come from me. I need to make a good impression."
Chat Noir pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced at him through his bangs. "It's not all about you. We're a team, and even if you don't trust us that much you have to work with us. This arrangement is the one we're going to go with."
"It's not that I don't trust you— " At their stony expressions, he realized this wasn't going anywhere. Régalien clamped up before he ended up saying something he'd regret.
The conversation wound back to what details would be revealed to the people during conference. Régalien nodded along from his perch, watching Ladybug and Chat Noir grow closer. Their lingering gazes, their shared smiles: it was exactly what he wanted for them.
And Régalien entertained that little what if in his mind: what if he hadn't excused himself from the second floor in Master Fu's shop? Would they have let him stay to see their civilian identities? Asked him to leave just as the last beep was counted down? Would they have trusted him more as Nino than Régalien, even with the side effects of Seeing Eye?
What if indeed.
Nino spent the rest of his Saturday evening catching up on his homework. The sky called out to him, but Mayor Bourgeois's announcement hung in the air like smoke. Ladybug and Chat Noir— with him twittering his thumbs on the sidelines— had decided what they were going to say. They'd agreed to talk it over with Master Fu to get his okay, which didn't surprise Nino one bit. Even with Master Fu staying in the shadows, they still needed his seal of approval.
As much as Master Fu rubbed him the wrong way, Nino understood. This wasn't an impromptu interview but an actual conference that the entirety of Paris would attend, either in person or from their living room. If there ever was a moment that Master Fu should guide, it would be right now.
After leaving the hideout, Nino finally got a reply back from Adrien. Just like Chat Noir, he couldn't get a clear answer from him about how serious it actually was. Adrien mentioned stitches and having to fabricate some story about being being bitten by a street dog to explain why he couldn't seem to walk without hobbling. Nino tried to figure out how Adrien managed to skate by with that excuse when Adrien signed off to rest.
At least Adrien was good enough to make it home okay.
Leaving the Miraculous business issue aside for now, Nino glued himself to the couch in the living room, Biology and Math textbooks spread out on the coffee table. Duusu slept inside the hood of his sweatshirt— his default outfit for hardcore study sessions.
"I thought you finished that yesterday." Faziel walked up and sat beside him.
Nino stiffened, pencil stuck on a comma. Shifting his body to Faziel and hood away from his line of sight, Nino offered a small shrug. "It's not due until Monday. It's fine."
Faize raised an eyebrow, staring down at the half-finished Biology report. "Didn't you and Alya work on this yesterday?"
Oh. Right. His last minute excuse before everything went to Hell.
Nino straightened to flip to his notes in his Biology book. They were chicken-scratch at best, pieces of Miss Bustier's lectures he caught while spells danced in his mind. Nino straightened out the creases, but there were still words too messy to make out.
Faziel sat down next to him, an odd occurrence to say the least. His parents usually gave him a wide berth during his hardcore study sessions; Nino tended to do a lot of angry muttering with at least one pencil discarded as a casualty.
It wasn't until Nino reached for his trusty eraser across the table that he caught his dad's gaze on him rather than his homework. Nino tensed, but Faziel already leaned for a closer look at the bandage on his neck.
"Cat scratch," Nino lied, bringing up the excuse he'd written down on the note app on his phone for when this inevitably happened. "Alya wanted to stop by a cat café. The cat also did this." He rolled up his left sleeve to show his dad his bandaged wrist. Thankfully the purple bruising was hidden.
Faziel's eyebrows rose, yet he still remained silent. Then, in the midst of Nino's mind working overtime so he could fabricate fake details for the fake cat café incident, Faziel stood up and said, already passing him by, "Make sure you finish this tonight. Let me know if you need help."
"I will," he lied. Tonight was not a night to try and translate Biology terms into Arabic.
Faziel lingered in the threshold of the hallway, hidden from line of sight but visible to his magic as a ball of worry. Worry for what, Nino was too distracted to decipher, but tonight hadn't been the first time Faziel reminded him to fix his priorities.
On Sunday, patrol came with the darkening of the sky. After an afternoon of the news replaying Mayor Bourgeois's call for a press conference ("Does he think we live under a rock?" Nino had complained) he figured he should be extra present in Paris and left a good hour early.
As people left their offices for the day, Régalien greeted as many as he could from up high. There were waves back, confused smiles, and the occasional, enraged shout that sparked his magic. It was expected, and it didn't upset him as much as he thought.
That was a nice thing to do, Duusu complimented as he cleared the business district.
Régalien missed a step in his haste and just managed catch the next roof's edge before he fell into a random balcony. "Gotta make a good impression, right?"
Duusu's hum reverberated down to his temples. You're building rapport with the people of Paris without needing a stage. A simple hello is enough for some.
Régalien still quipped, "Admit it, you like the attention, even if people can't see you."
Duusu laughed, the sound a chime in his head. You're a Peacock now. What does that say about you?
Régalien tilted his head. He was a DJ, after all. Center stage with flashing lights on him. Maybe there had always been a little peacock in him.
He checked his communicator's clock and saw he still had a good forty five minutes before the designated patrol time. With a glance at the street signs, Régalien chanced a pass by the Agreste Mansion.
As the mansion came into view, Régalien thanked whoever designed Adrien's room with an entire wall made of windows. There was Adrien, in bed…
... with Gabriel Agreste hovering at his bedside. Him, in the flesh, and not a no-named butler.
Régalien, hidden across the street, extended his powers to try and gauge the man's emotions. Yet it seemed he was too far, and he didn't dare try to get closer. How would Gabriel Agreste react to see the person who got the Peacock Miraculous spying on his son? Régalien never did clarify with Master Fu if he had already swung by to talk to Adrien's father about the whole the Peacock Miraculous has an owner now situation.
He left and eventually ended up pacing the rooftop of the Hôtel Champ du Mars, eyeing the rooftops and the skyline. He held a dagger by the hilt in one hand. Perhaps being early wasn't the best thing for his already frayed nerves.
After five minutes of nothing but the traffic down below, Duusu prodded his mind. The Grimoire, she let him know. Right, she had let him bring it today. Since you're going in so early, she had reasoned.
"I'm just keeping watch. Patrolling, you know?" he replied without stopping his pacing.
Duusu's presence sagged into a sigh he felt throughout his body. They were ten minutes early to the meeting place to a patrol, and he had all the nerves of a warrior going into battle. She signaled to the shrunken book again with a spark that made his hairs stand on end.
Régalien patted down the wave of goosebumps. Duusu could get pushy.
Keeping an eye on the view on the Eiffel Tower as a reference marker, he perched on a chimney and unhooked the Grimoire from his belt. He ran a finger down its spine to enlarge it back to its normal size. Propping it up on his knees, Régalien flipped to Ladybug's page in progress.
A new line caught his eye: Ladybug is able to recognize and appreciate concern. Her ability to reciprocate concern for both Wielders and civilians creates calmer environments.
It described Marinette to a T.
Régalien spent his time reading through what he had mind-written and glancing up at the neighboring buildings. Eventually Ladybug's description reeled him in with its sincerity. Her stubbornness. Her kindness. The way righteous anger sometimes prevailed over logic.
Sensing Ladybug, Régalien relaxed, closing the Grimoire. Then he sensed Chat Noir's string intertwined with hers. Régalien straightened, book forgotten, as he saw both heroes touch down on the roof of the hotel.
Wasn't Chat Noir supposed to be taking it easy— at home?
Ladybug touched down, arm interlinked with Chat Noir's. He planted his staff, then landed on both feet. Chat Noir glanced at Ladybug, who hesitated then eventually let his arm go. Chat Noir leaned on his staff, but it was far less casual than usual.
"Don't stop reading on our account," Ladybug was quick to say when Régalien continued to gape. Wandering over, she leaned against the chimney and smiled encouragingly. "I've actually never gotten a good look at it."
"There's not much." Régalien flipped open the book. He stopped at the two-page spread of Ladybug and Chat Noir.
"Whoa, that's me," she breathed. Her hand hovered over the watercolor portrait of herself. At Régalien's nod, she traced the picture with a finger. A chill went down his spine, warning him that someone not a Peacock was touching the Grimoire. When Ladybug settled for clasping her hands behind her back, Régalien's shoulders relaxed.
Chat Noir inched closer. He walked stiffly, back too straight, staff occasionally hitting the ground as a makeshift cane. Régalien tried not to stare as he leaned to glance at the book's pages. Chat Noir's mask furrowed, and his cat ears perked forward. Régalien waited for the inevitable question of why his page had more text.
"Just as indecipherable as before," Chat Noir eventually mumbled, pulling away.
"Bunch of squiggles and loops?" Régalien guessed.
Chat Noir leaned in slightly to give it one last, cursory glance. "With a couple of dots for good measure."
Good ol' magic hiding his secrets. Régalien patted the aged pages. "My real handwriting is much more presentable."
Chat Noir chuckled. "I'm sure it's paw-sitively amazing."
Régalien shrunk the book down with a quick swipe of his finger down its spine. Still perched on the chimney, he leaned forward, hands clasped on his knees. As Ladybug and Chat Noir shared a glance he couldn't decipher, Régalien tapped a rhythm on his knee and waited for the moment to pass.
Were they… together? Not together? He hadn't had a chance to see Marinette and Adrien yet after this whole revelation, but as Ladybug and Chat Noir they were on the cusp of actually forming something new.
They stood closer, shoulder to shoulder, and it wasn't about keeping Chat Noir from falling off the rooftop. Ladybug glanced at the map on her compact, seemingly engrossed in the map of Paris, except for when she threw Chat Noir a hesitant glance.
As for Chat Noir, he kept his hands to himself, seemingly fully aware of his body this time.
"Do you feel well enough to patrol?" Régalien dared to ask.
Chat Noir bristled, tail arcing in protest. "I know Master Fu said no battles for now, but patrolling is just that, patrolling."
Ladybug laid a hand on his shoulder. Despite his injury, Chat Noir managed to shrug her off. There was a stalemate where they delegated silently, and Régalien felt like the kid wedged between his parents' divorce.
"Chat, we went over this," she started with a tone that said she definitely went over this with him, "you're not patrolling alone. I don't want to find you lying in a ditch somewhere."
"I can take care of myself just fine," he told her.
"Last time Régalien got attacked on patrol." Ladybug motioned to him, and Régalien wondered if he could peace out until they solved this lovers' spat.
Chat Noir scoffed. "One time, and plus, that guy with the cloak only wanted his Miraculous, not mine."
Ouch.
"What if I go with him?" Régalien offered, and almost regretted it when their eyes flew to him.
"See? He agrees with my plan. Chat," she touched his arm, "it's just until you get better."
"Got it, got it," he muttered, but his gaze softened.
Ladybug returned the smile before her attention included Régalien again. "You don't need to go through Chat's arrondissements tonight, just do yours. This is only your second patrol, so it's better if you get the extra practice in and just watch Chat's back."
"Yeah, that's cool." Régalien tried to meet Chat Noir's eyes, but Chat Noir was too busy staring out towards the Eiffel Tower. His cat ears flattened in displeasure.
"Stay safe, boys." She raised her hand in a half-hearted wave before leaping off the building.
Régalien waited until her string lengthened enough to tell him she was on the border of the arrondissement. "Let's get started, shall we?"
When Chat Noir said nothing, Régalien decided that talking wouldn't do much; after all, Ladybug only marginally succeeded. Régalien leaned in to make sure Chat Noir hadn't fallen asleep on his feet, then jumped to the next rooftop to start patrolling the seventh arrondissement.
Chat Noir joined him a moment later with an assisted jump from his staff. He landed heavier than normal. Régalien slowed to a jog, just enough to keep him in sight from the corner of his eyes.
Chat Noir kept pace, only using his staff to land jumps and make turns.
They cleared two blocks before Régalien broke the silence. "Dude, be honest, can you do this patrol by yourself?"
Chat Noir came to a jerky stop, and the previous irritation resurfaced. He straightened to his full height and bit out, "Look, I've been doing this longer than you. Yeah, it hurts like Hell, but I— "
"No, I get it." Régalien sighed. He'd already done this once with Adrien. He wasn't going to make the same mistake with Chat Noir. "We can split up and continue patrolling. We both have our communicators. I can sense you an arrondissement away when you're transformed. If you don't want to patrol together, that's fine."
Chat Noir's frown dropped. "And you're not going to go tattling to Ladybug?"
"And get the nasty end of those claws of yours? No thanks."
Chat Noir leaned heavily against his staff. "I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't angry with you."
Régalien tapped his temple. "I know, dude."
Chat Noir rolled his eyes. "You and your freaky bird powers," he grumbled, but the smile that followed was telling.
Régalien then tried his luck for the second time that night. "Why didn't you patrol with Ladybug, though? Pretty sure you would much rather spend the night with her than me."
"Ladybug felt you needed someone patrolling with you after last time." Régalien suspected as much, so it stung less than he thought it would. But Chat Noir kept going. "And, well, things are kind of… weird." Chat Noir gestured with his free hand to nothing, though they both knew exactly what he was talking about. He let his hand fall limply to his side. A sad trumpet note sounded through his string, a faint buzzing that gave Régalien a shiver.
"Identities are a pretty big deal. Give her time. She knows you care about her, and I definitely know she cares about you. Things will work out." This was definitely a conversation for two friends, not two awkward teammates. Régalien shelved that for later and said instead, "How about we patrol everything up to the Hôtel des Ivalides, then we split?"
Chat Noir nodded, more than happy to leave the topic for later, then bounded off the roof with a new spring in his step. Régalien kept up, conversation starters on the tip of his tongue. How's the injury? Do you enjoy patrolling during the night? Do you know I'm actually your best friend in disguise?
"Nice out," Régalien blurted out when they perched on a pair of lampposts. Chat Noir hummed in agreement.
"Doing okay?" Régalien asked as they cleared a shopping square of any potential threats and Chat Noir had to use a hand to steady himself against a chimney.
He got a nod for his trouble, then, "It's a lot better when I'm transformed."
He didn't elaborate. Régalien swallowed down the lump in his throat. Once again, his eyes drifted to Chat Noir's side. There was no blood showing through his suit, and by the light of the passing street lamps there was no noticeable bulk of bandages.
But he knew just how much the power of a Miraculous masked pain. His own wrist was a constant ache when transformed, then stiff with pain outside the mask. No amount of bandages could stop the shooting pain he occasionally felt in his fingers.
Moments later, Chat Noir landed on the roof of the hotel. He gave the block a cursory glance, then clapped his hands together. "And we're good!"
Régalien dropped down behind him. He smiled even as Chat Noir paced the perimeter. "Guess we are." Régalien rocked on his heels, looking for an excuse to stay and finding none. "I'll ring you once I cross to the tenth?"
"Or if you run into trouble." Chat Noir placed his hands on his hips and leveled a hard stare. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, 'kay, bird?"
"I'll make sure to turn tail at the first sign of trouble."
Chat Noir grinned and ended the conversation with a salute over his shoulder. Taking his staff in hand, he used it to vault over the street and to the rooftop of an apartment complex.
"Idiot," he muttered once Chat Noir's string stretched beyond the general vicinity. Régalien threw his head back and glared at the stars. "Stupid, freaking idiot. He should have stayed home."
Régalien rubbed his face. This was all his fault. If he hadn't gotten overwhelmed by that anger, Chat Noir wouldn't have been hurt and patrol would have been just that: a patrol.
Duusu nudged him off the roof. Régalien dropped down into the awning of the garden of the hotel and shot off to finish patrolling the last bit of the arrondissement. He headed for the Eiffel Tower, the tallest structure he could use to finish patrolling the area.
As the rhythm of jumping lost its novelty, he noticed how the lights of the lampposts didn't reach the highest rooftops.
Régalien gripped his communicator. His thumb danced on the button while his fingers tightened on Ladybug's string. One pull, or one call, and she would be there.
This caped stranger was not going to get the best of him.
He patrolled the perimeter of the Eiffel Tower by jumping from beam to beam. Régalien found himself jumping lower and lower until he could read the signs of the nearby shops. The bird in him yearned for height. The boy welcomed the light of the lampposts.
Régalien continued his patrol by leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Through it all, he worried Chat Noir's string. If that boy so much as got frustrated over a misaligned stop sign, he would know.
He was about to turn to leave the seventh arrondissement behind when he he heard from somewhere below him, "Hey, you!"
Régalien crouched and brought out his fan. He spread his magic out, searching for the person on the street without giving himself away.
"Bird boy! Down here!"
Alya.
He rocketed to his feet and leaned over the side. Beneath the light of the lampposts, she bounced from one foot to the other, the flashlight of her phone bobbing along.
Régalien bit down on his tongue before he revealed himself as her angry and very concerned boyfriend. Tightening his fingers on the base of his fan, he stepped up on the roof's edge and leaped down to the store's awning.
Alya scurried closer, phone held high. "Our intrepid hero has fin—"
"What are you doing out here?"
Alya peeked from behind her phone. "It's no secret that Ladybug and Chat Noir do their patrol, and I just so happen to catch gossip that a certain bird was seen patrolling the seventh arrondissement around this time this past week. So maybe I asked any Ladyblog fans to message me for any sightings of you."
Damn. Alay really did go above and beyond for a scoop.
As his mouth moved to say something, she added, "I need to keep the Ladyblog up to date with the latest news, and you, sir, are news."
Régalien shrunk back. "I mean," he stressed, keeping his face in the shadows, "what are you doing alone, in the middle of the night, when anybody can sneak up and hurt you?"
Alya dropped her arms. Among the shadows and glow of light, she was a warrior on a mission, a goddess fueled by unparalleled determination. Alya stomped closer. "I can take care of myself. I'll have you know, I've been covering every akuma attack to some degree since Stoneheart."
Régalien tugged at the edge of his mask and yes, it was still there. He glanced back down at her and her waiting phone. "I don't feel like being on camera again. Pretty sure this bird is not pretty popular right now."
He chuckled, but when Alya remained silent it died off. Régalien shifted on the awning, itching to leave, yet determined to keep an eye on his girlfriend. A car alarm rang in the distance, covering up their breathing.
"We don't have to do a video," Alya said. "I'm not Chamack. I'm not looking for the next juicy rumor. I just want the truth."
Régalien grimaced. Putting on a front for Chamack, or even Adrien, was much easier than doing it for Alya. There was little they knew about each other. He knew she took off her glasses when she was beyond frustrated, knew she drank a hot cup of chamomile tea when she edited for the Ladyblog but preferred hot chocolate when studying.
"I don't know how much of the truth I can give you," he admitted.
Alya threw up her hands, then dropped them with a drawn-out sigh. "Well I have nothing right now. Anything you can give me is an improvement."
A one-on-one with his reporter girlfriend. Régalien could think of a hundred and one reasons it was a bad idea.
But she was the coast, him the waves. No amount of prodding would move her.
"If I give you this interview," he started, leaning forward to catch her eye, "would you allow me to escort you back home?"
"Only if the bird continues to be a gentleman about it."
Régalien dropped down to the sidewalk. Alya held her position, vibrating in place, her smile splitting her cheeks. Régalien allowed himself to bask in the moment. Once he stepped into the light, he gave her an extravagant bow.
He straightened. "It's Régalien, by the way."
Alya danced in a tight circle. Régalien ducked his head to hide his smile. Oh God, did he love this girl.
"Okay, okay, okay." She composed herself and strode up to him, phone in pocket, hand out. "Name's Alya Césaire. The leading Parisian reporter for anything Miraculous related."
"Wow, no pressure here."
Régalien shook her hand. It was so weirdly formal for two people who have been dating for a year.
She dragged him to the nearest bench on the deserted street. He plopped down while she briefly took out her phone to review the questions she had written down, some in bold, others crossed out. When Régalien tried to take a peek, she had the audacity to turn the phone away from him.
He was supposed to be out patrolling, gaining his team's trust back. What was he doing here, chatting with his girlfriend?
Alya sat down, cross-legged and back against the arm of the bench. Régalien did the same so they could be face to face. This close, his boot touched her knee. The faint smell of her lavender perfume filled the space between them.
"I know everyone's mind is on the last akuma battle," she began, "but we don't know anything about you. So why Régalien?"
Alya held up her phone like a microphone. He leaned back, but she followed with a scoot. "The other Wielders took names after the animals or colors they are based off."
"Right to it, then," he deadpanned. Régalien fiddled with the seams running along his gloves. "And I don't know. It just sounded right? I brainstormed a lot of ideas, but Régalien seemed like the best one."
Alya hmmed to herself, phone still held aloft. "Kinda weird, though, right? I mean, it's not a noun, it's an adjective."
"Yeah, it is, isn't it." With those earnest eyes, he couldn't not elaborate a tiny bit. "It's actually kind of a nickname my parents gave me. They used it when they were proud of me, and I guess it kinda stuck?"
Back when Nino started school in Paris, his parents tried to chat with the other parents and boast about him, as any self-respecting parent did. Their French wasn't the best, things got lost in translation, and he somehow got stuck with a nickname that was too pompous for a six-year-old to have.
Even at home they used it, the nickname sprinkled among the Arabic conversations like their own, inside joke. Nino grew from being annoyed by it to appreciating how his nickname was something the other kids didn't have.
Now that he thought about it, he didn't know when they stopped using it. Ever since he got into DJing, they had been less and less impressed with him.
"I think it suits you." Alya gestured from his mask to his boots. "Paris has its own royal guard."
A guard protected people. He was doing a damn good job at that.
"Next question," Alya announced with a flourish of her phone. "Are you ready for it?"
She bounced in her seat, the curls of her hair tickling her cheeks and twining around the temples of her glasses. Régalien smothered down the urge to peck her on the cheek. "Shoot," he prompted.
"Are you a native Parisian?"
Régalien choked on his spit. He launched into a coughing spasm that had him ramrod straight on the bench. "What?" He pounded on his chest until a rush of air settled in his lungs. "What do you mean by that?"
"There's a slight accent of something in your voice."
"I'm from Nice," he blurted out. Even as Alya nodded, Régalien floundered for more. He tugged his glove off in his mad dash for cover. "Spent most of my childhood there. Moved to Paris a year ago."
He couldn't even lie about something so simple. Régalien bundled his glove into a tight ball in his hands. Maybe he should have forced her to go home.
"Before we get into the nitty gritty," Alya continued, snapping him back to the here and now, "I just wanted to let you know that I don't think it's your fault Chat Noir got hurt."
Régalien swallowed down the lump in his throat, but a rush of heat still overwhelmed his face. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of a hand before the floodgates opened.
"Thanks," he mumbled to the air, squeezing the life out of his glove, "but it really is my fault. I was… unable to follow the plan we decided on."
Alya glanced at her phone, then put it to the side, well away where it couldn't record. "You're still learning the ropes. I don't know what it's like to be a superhero, but I know it takes time."
Régalien scoffed bitterly. "Tell that to Chat Noir. I almost got him killed."
The blood. The voice too weak to hear.
A hand on his boot. Alya tilted her head to catch his eye. "But you didn't. You guys got Verglas. You saved Paris. And you'll do it again. And again. The Blue Wonder of Paris." Alya spread her free hand over an imaginary headline.
Régalien slid his boot from under her fingers. He straightened, put his back against the bench, and just stared out into the street. The faint buzz of the lampposts filled the awkward silence.
He couldn't bare to look at her as he said, "Alya, that article you wrote? He's not me."
That was the hero that Master Fu wanted, the one that Duusu tried to create. As much as he'd improved, he still lagged behind everyone's expectations.
"Of course it's you." Alya scooted to his side. Like him, she stared out into the city; he wondered how she viewed such a chance meeting. "A new hero with promising and formidable powers? You're just what Ladybug and Chat Noir need to finally kick Hawkmoth back to where he belongs."
"That's a pretty tall order for someone who's been in it for less than a week."
Alya sighed. "I'm trying to help you out here."
Régalien met her eyes. "I get that, but you don't even know me. You don't know if I'm capable of all of these things you envision."
Alya breathed in, bunching her fists in her lap. "Maybe I don't, but somebody has to be rooting for you. It sounds like you can't even do that for yourself."
It hurt how right she was.
Régalien took his time putting his glove back on. Just like the rest of his costume, it was a perfect fit. Meant for him.
He settled his hands on his lap. His mouth spat out words without any conscious thought from him. It was everything he'd thought but never said. "I was there, and I messed up, and I know that I'll just be bumbling my way through everything else after. What if you're there, and you're the next one bleeding?"
Régalien froze at his own words, his stomach seizing. He dashed from the bench before the bile rose in his throat. Alya started to move to her feet but stopped when he started pacing instead. It was the only way he could banish that awful image from his mind.
Why did he have to say that? Of all the things to spit out… of all the people it could have been… Régalien fisted his hands hard enough to feel his fingernails digging into his palms and for the ache in his wrist to flare.
It was only when Alya shifted again that he told the cold, sidewalk under him. "This was a bad idea. I shouldn't be talking to you."
A tug on his sleeve turned him back to her. Alya bunched the fabric in her hand, effectively trapping him, while she used her phone to prod him in the chest. "So after telling me I know nothing and that I'm not allowed to believe in the heroes that are stopping Paris from crumbling, you're bailing?"
Régalien gaped. That wasn't what he said at all. Yet when he tried to move, Alya tightened her unnaturally strong grip.
He laid a hand on hers, hoping it would be enough to get her to let go. This interview was clearly over. "I'm not bailing. I'm taking you home. You shouldn't even be here." Régalien eased her fingers free from his sleeve. Warmth seeped through his gloves and ran up his fingers. On instinct, he took off his glove and laid the back of his bare hand on her forehead. "I think you're running a fever."
She ripped herself out of his reach. Alya swayed. She spread her feet enough to keep her balance and glare. "Now you're policing me how to report?" she cried, spittle flying from between her lips.
"Alya," he put his glove back on, all the while watching her like one would eye a wary animal, "you need to go home."
She stared down at his offered hand, eyes unfocused. Régalien heaved a breath— it was now or never— and grabbed both of her wrists.
"Let me go!" Alya struggled against his grip. She craned her head to the street, then to the sky above. "Just let me go!"
"Alya, keep it down!" Régalien threw the street a harried glance.
Alya sunk to her knees like dead weight, pulling him down. She bowed her head and spread her hands out, reaching for something he couldn't see. "It hurts! Let me go!"
This wasn't about him. Régalien forced her up on her knees. Her eyes haphazardly searched his expression. He forced himself to maintain eye contact, secret identities be damned. A dark energy pulsed within her and wormed its way to where his Miraculous beat the strongest.
Hawkmoth's magic.
"Alya, what's wrong?" Was she being akumatized? He searched her body for the encroaching transformation, for the body suit, the weapon.
She pushed him away hard enough for his back to hit the lamppost behind him. Alya curled in on herself. Her fingers frantically dug into her clothes, close to her heart. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts…" she slurred.
Hawkmoth's magic wound around her, still invisible and not at all like the akuma transformation he was used to seeing. It pulsed in his ears with the intensity of a hundred beating wings. Shakily he ripped his communicator from his belt and punched in Ladybug's speed dial.
"Alya needs help!" he yelled once the first flickers of her mask appeared in his fan. "Hawkmoth is doing something to her, and it's hurting her!"
"Is she being akumatized?" Ladybug asked. She craned her head in a vain attempt to see Alya.
Régalien opened his mouth only to stutter through his confusion. "I don't know, maybe? But can you get akumatized twice?"
Alya seized, and Régalien threw the communicator on the floor to catch her in his arms before she smashed her head against the concrete. Heat bled from her face, her neck, through her clothes like the beginnings of a dying star. And then, in a flurry of emotions, he felt her anger and rage hit him in the sternum.
It burned as hot as his own anger did sometimes, when that lingering piece of the Bubbler he still held within him decided to rear its ugly head.
"You have no right!" she yelled through her teeth, then she seized again, her entire body going limp for a terrifying second.
Régalien hugged her against his chest, looked at Ladybug's anguished face on the screen discarded on the sidewalk, and wished that all of this was a horrible, horrible dream.
"I'm coming to you," Ladybug spoke through his swirling thoughts, banishing what little hope he had that he was stuck in a nightmare. "Tug on those strings, and I'll find you. Tell Chat Noir I'm on the way."
She faced off-camera before hanging up.
Régalien snatched up the communicator with one hand while cradling Alya's head with the other. She lolled, eyelids fluttering and fighting Hawkmoth's pull. He scooped her up from the sidewalk, bridal-style. Listening to his clamoring instincts, he used the nearest lamppost to reach the rooftop of the apartment complex across the street.
Alya trembled in his arms. She kicked her feet, nearly catching him in the temple. Régalien stumbled but refused to let her go. He tightened his hold, immobilizing her legs and arms until she could only squirm like a caged animal.
"Babe, I'm here, I'm here," he murmured in her ear with all the heart he could muster. Maybe not before, not since all of this Miraculous mess had started, but he was here now and nothing short of Hell's hounds could tear him away.
On a three-story building, far away from any potential apartment complexes and bars, Régalien hesitated, then ultimately decided to hold Alya as close to him as possible. She was now muttering into his chest. Hot tears soaked the front of his costume.
Waiting for help with his girlfriend moaning in the throes of her anger tore his heart in two. Régalien paced tight circles while pulling and pulling on the emotional strings that bound him to Ladybug and Chat Noir. He didn't care if he dragged them here, kicking and screaming. They had to come and fix this.
An eternity later Ladybug came from the west and Chat Noir from the north— Ladybug started to say something but ultimately shut her mouth on the matter. They ran up to them, all eyes on Alya, their combined worry a tsunami that pushed him back until his heels hit the rooftop's edge. Ladybug brushed away Alya's bangs, and Régalien had to reign in the surge of protectiveness. Now was not the time to fight over her.
"What happened?" Chat Noir asked with wide eyes, hovering over Ladybug's shoulder.
Régalien breathed through the thick air of emotions. It was like swimming back to the surface. "She was talking to me, and then she began to get angry. Like, really angry, until she got dizzy. She's still angry."
He spared Alya and the simmering hatred a glance. Sweat had broken out on her forehead.
Ladybug worried the edge of her yo-yo, fingernails digging into the seam. "I think Master Fu would know what to do."
Régalien gritted his teeth. His fingers tightened around her. "I didn't call Master Fu. I called you."
"I don't know how to fix this!" Ladybug cried. She fisted her hands until her yo-yo creaked. "There's nothing to cleanse. I don't know what's going on."
"This is above our paygrade." Chat Noir leveled him with a stare that was meant to close the discussion.
Régalien met it head on; he wasn't going to back down this time.
Régalien set Alya gently down and opened up the Grimoire to its full size. He started to flip through its pages, eyes roving through the paragraphs upon paragraphs of information. All the while, he felt Ladybug and Chat Noir's stares burning a hole into the back of his head.
They were drowning in worry, stuck on their own, little ocean. But they didn't understand what he could do, what he was willing to try to fix Alya without giving her up to a man who kept secrets and toyed with their lives.
Duusu's displeasure throbbed behind his eyes as a growing headache. Régalien bit through the worst of it and started to read through the snippets he caught in the Grimoire to concentrate.
"This looks promising," he finally said. A Wielder of the Tiger Miraculous with a short fuse. Her spell was made to extract her anger in bursts, one step at a time, without having her lash out. Alya was no Wielder, and no one had ever explained if Seeing Eye was different for a regular civilian, but he had to try something.
Clawed fingers gripped his shoulder and forced him to his feet. Chat Noir glanced from the Grimoire, to him, to an Alya mumbling angry nothings into the air. "I don't even know what it is," he said carefully, every word restraining the bubbling anger that Régalien could feel prickling at the edges. "You expect us to just sit back and let you do something to her that you never even tried?"
Duusu was really pushing him to drop it, to bow his head and run to Master Fu with his tail between his legs. Régalien growled and stepped up to meet Chat Noir right in those damned, off-putting eyes of his.
Régalien growled, "Do you want to leave her like this? Huh?"
Chat Noir met the challenge head on. They were within an inch of each other, boots touching, claws digging into Régalien's shoulder. Chat Noir bared his teeth in an animalistic hiss. "Of course I don't! But I sure as Hell won't let you try something on her."
In case you mess up again, the anger rolling off him said.
Régalien dropped his eyes down to the spell instead. With the instructions seared into his mind, he closed the Grimoire and hooked it on his belt. Now or never.
Ripping himself away from Chat Noir's claws, he sunk down a dagger beside Alya's head (a clearer mind helps diffuse the anger) and one by her right hand (to stop one from lashing out). Régalien stepped back, swallowed, and started to go through the steps. He led with the right foot, then the left, each step a damning crunch against the rooftop gravel.
Alya seized on the ground, and her words cut off into sharp cries of pain. Her glasses dropped down the bridge of her nose.
But it was working. A trickle of that anger, tainted with Hawkmoth's magic, settled in Régalien's chest. Régalien pushed through his next, precise step. Another burst of anger hit him in the ribs; Alya's head snapped back, arcing her whole body before it dropped her back with an audible thump.
When his hand extended out, Ladybug caught his wrist in an iron hold— and of course it had to be his injured one. She twisted to come face-to-face with him. Her mouth was set in a thinned line that spoke of Marinette's loyalty mixed in with Ladybug's fierce determination. Her hand shook, but her grip was as strong as steel. "We're not doing this anymore. She's going to Master Fu's."
"But it's working!" he cried, hand still trapped, body jerking to move on to the next step even as the pain in his wrist spiked. Because it was working and Alya was going to get better and—-
Ladybug jerked his arm down hard enough to cut him off. "It's hurting her! Can't you hear her?!"
"Of course I can!" And oh how it hurt him, drove that infernal spike through his heart. But it was helping her.
"No it's not! You don't know that!"
Like the cat that he was, Chat Noir sneaked into his line of vision, behind Ladybug, and scooped up Alya— he hissed through his teeth at the effort. She jerked at the change and let loose a string of heated curses.
"She's going to Master Fu's," he said with a note of finality that finished driving that stake through Régalien's heart. He inched past him towards the rooftop edge. He shared a glance with Ladybug— no doubt the silent signal to hand her Alya and get going.
"Wait, no!"
Régalien twisted out of Ladybug's grasp— and it definitely felt like he popped something in his wrist this time. Chat Noir stared him down from the bridge of his mask. Régalien battled between running up and ripping Alya from his arms and pleading his case like the good little Peacock everybody wanted him to be. He was supposed to be getting into their good graces, not doing every possible thing to get himself blacklisted.
"Do you even know her?" Chat Noir held onto Alya with all the protectiveness that made up Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir. Régalien could see the strain of holding Alya and the way he bowed, just slightly, under the pain no doubt radiating from his injury. "Do you even care what happens to her right now? Or do you want to just prove something?"
And just like that, in a rush of anger that came too fast for him to stop, Régalien yelled, "Yes, yes I do. She's my girlfriend, the love of my life, and I need to save her!"
He didn't hear himself say wings down, didn't feel the rush of magic crumbling around him like a house of cards.
But Nino did feel the burst of cold hair hitting his bare face.
Chat Noir stared and stared, his tail falling still behind him. His face slackened in shock.
"Nino?" Ladybug's words were just another breath in the air.
They were wasting time. They were wasting Alya's time. Couldn't they see that?!
Weaponless and two pegs shy of magic strength, Nino walked up to Chat Noir. That flash of anger stilled followed him, keeping his words short. "You need to let me do this, Adrien."
The name was a slap to the face, startling him to reality. Chat Noir gaped until his arms worked for him. He handed Alya off, and Nino silently took her. Though her weight seemed a thousand pounds heavier, her body against his soothed the ache in his chest.
He hesitated once he came face-to-face with Ladybug. She was biting a hole through her lip, staring down at Alya to avoid his face.
"Wings up," he said, just above a whisper, and Duusu popped out from one of his pockets to transform him back.
Alya was reverently laid back on the gravel.
Back were the daggers. Back were his feet in the dance, his hands in the air. Régalien— or Nino? He felt so naked, even with the mask—- took Alya's anger one step at a time, until she fell still. He dropped his hands, his chest filled with an unleashed Seeing Eye.
But even that, with another sweep of his arm and foot flowed away, a tremble of power that sent a crack running down the side of the building. Somewhere below their little universe, a series of car alarms were set off. Lampposts creaked, mere branches on the brink of falling over.
Régalien mentally reached out to Alya and felt for Hawkmoth's tainted string.
Gone.
He felt the guilt coming up behind him before the words left Chat Noir's mouth. "Nino— "
Régalien shut his eyes. When he opened them Chat Noir was in front of him, face impossibly shattered with too many emotions to count. He held one hand to his side while the other held him up by his staff.
Régalien put up his hand. He forced himself to say past the lump in his throat, "Don't even tell me we should take her to Master Fu."
Ladybug, at Alya's side, jerked her head up. "We don't even know—-"
"I'm taking her home so she can rest. We can tell Master Fu about this tomorrow, but I'm not taking Alya to be poked and prodded. She's fine," he added when her jaw set in that stubborn way he often saw. "I can't feel Hawkmoth's magic in her anymore, or the anger."
Their eyes met until the weight of the secret he'd just exposed forced Ladybug to look away.
They let him take Alya into his arms without protest. She was warm, but not burning. Alya stirred without the sharp, jerky movements from before.
Cradling her with all the love he ever whispered to her, Régalien left the rooftop.
You know how you have a favorite scene you like to re-read? That last scene is mine.
Y'all, we. got. the. reveal! And it only took us 100K to get there! lol
We also have a new clue. What does Alya's sudden attack mean? How does this fit into the Cure? We're 3-4 chapters around from the story's midpoint, so things are going to start coming together. Our heroes are going to start going from "wtf is going on" to "let's get this shit fixed" real soon. This chapter is basically the start to that.
As always, feel free to comment! I would love to hear what you guys think!