He heard the sharp sound of sliding metal against plastic. Almost a reverberation to his catlike senses. Animal instincts set off red flags and blaring warnings everywhere in his brain and he looked up at her face just in time to have a metal object pressed into his neck.

His instincts told him to flee but he couldn't. Immobilized by shock, confusion, and probably panic somewhere deep down, he slowly lowered his eyes to see her hand tightly clutching a switchblade. The most frightening part of this wasn't even metal to his jugular. The switchblade was red and covered in black polka dots, a pattern unique to her luck charms. It was possible that she had used this on the snake, which would explain the first shriek it had produced. But it was also possible that her lucky charm was never meant for the snake.

She was the real snake after all.

A wolf in sheep's clothing.

This was her demon.

Her deed.

"Ladybug—"

He was cut short when he felt the pressure of the blade push harder against his neck.

This wasn't what the lucky charm was meant to be used for unless…it was all just a trap set specifically for him.

He couldn't fight Ladybug. The world knew that. Any villain knew that. Who better than her to be bait and trap at the same time? But who was so evil as to do this?

His eyes trailed her arm up to her face. Water drops still clung to her. Her face was wet and her hair was so soaked it clumped together into wet locks and stuck to her face and shoulders. But somehow he could see how much she was sweating. He could see a slight glaze over her eyes. And he could see the barest shade of violet tracing the outer edges of her irises.

"Leave," she grunted through clenched teeth.

Her eyebrows furrowed and he noticed a vein in her neck popping out as she strained to control herself. Or, in this instance, regain control of herself.

Now he questioned whether she was truly dying from illness or if this was simply what happened when she became Ladybug now. She said she was "running out of chances." Did that necessarily mean she was dying though? Was she strictly speaking of her transformations? Was she saving her transformations for only the direst of circumstances? Did this mean her time as Ladybug was, for whatever reason, running out completely? Did these occurrences happen only while she was Ladybug or did they happen while she was detransformed as well?

Perhaps now was a terrible time to be asking questions that he wouldn't be getting answers to anytime soon, but this…this wasn't Ladybug.

"You're stronger than this, my lady," he whispered, trying to keep a very calm atmosphere despite being approximately one minute away from having his throat slit open by the woman he still loved. "Fight it."

"Leave!" she growled. "Leave before I do something I'll regret!"

She was using all her strength to maintain whatever control she still had over herself. It was waning. He could see it in her eyes—she was losing the battle. She had probably been sick when this happened, being too physically weak to fight it off and mentally drained from preexisting illness. It had been at a time when her defenses were down. That must've been why Ladybug had to disappear.

Her earrings began to beep—her countdown had begun.

"I'll come back for you," he promised. "I'll save you."

But for now he had to resign himself to the fact that, currently, there was nothing he could do for her. All the medical care in the world couldn't fix her problem. The only way for her to get better now was beyond his control. And he despised the very thought of it.

He felt the blade press deeper by the barest amount, but still enough to break skin.

He slowly backed away, leaving her frozen in an aggressive stance, still pathetically struggling to keep herself from lunging at him and actually trying to murder him. He got out his second baton, having left the first next to the akuma victim in his effort to give chase to Ladybug, and used it to launch himself into the air, the opposite direction of the one person he wanted to save more than anyone else. He was letting her go again, probably making the same mistake, as if he hadn't learned the first time, and it was maddening.

"Spots off," her fading voice sputtered.

No sooner than he landed on the ground, hidden behind a building, did he turn heel and decide to risk death anyway…but the decision was cut when he heard his ring beep. He could use several cataclysms but after the first one, he only had a set amount of time before his transformation would run out.

"Plagg…claws in…" he growled.

His powers left him, retreating back into his miraculous. Plagg was exhausted but still found the energy to be genuinely shocked. Didn't even demand camembert. Nevertheless, he had some shoved into his chest anyway, forced to take it.

"Eat up. Chat Noir's making a second appearance," Adrien said.

"Ladybug…just…sh-she just tried to—"

"Yeah, really? You think I don't know that?" he snapped back. "You're supposed to be this amazing, all-powerful being. Tell me what's going on."

"Kid, I've worked with a lot of Chat Noirs and I've seen a lot of Ladybugs, but I've never seen anything like this before," Plagg replied. "Why didn't you leave when she told you to?!"

"I shouldn't have left at all," Adrien muttered. "She wouldn't have actually done it."

"Um, she was probably the one who planned it! Her lucky charm may seem random, but you know as well as I do that it's always meant to play a specific part in her ideas. Did you ever see any cuts on the snake? She only whipped it out and held that thing to your throat when you dropped your guard."

"She told me to leave because she didn't want it to happen, Plagg. Whoever planned this was just utilizing a tool."

"That would only make sense if she actually explained what was going on, or at least clued you in. She didn't tell you to leave until it was too late."

"She said she was running out of chances. What does that mean?" Adrien asked, more than likely to himself. "She didn't really give up being Ladybug, she went straight into hiding without telling anyone and let the world think she was dead. Is someone threatening her? Or…is it only Ladybug that's trapped? Maybe the girl behind the mask has a chance to escape but maybe Ladybug has no chance. Or maybe Ladybug only has a certain number of chances to kill Chat Noir before something bad happens to her. What if that's what she meant?"

"Adrien…I don't think that's what she was talking about… You saw her. She was…pretty sick…"

"Yeah, well, for all we know she's just having an off day."

"She was like this befor—"

"Shut up and eat the cheese."

With a sigh of defeat the kwami nibbled on a small slice of camembert. Adrien could feel the burning look of pity directed straight at him—he was so tired of being pitied. He was pitied for having lost his closest partner. He was pitied for ever having loved her because that made everything hurt worse. He was pitied because he was "in denial" of her unproven death. He was pitied because he still agreed to interviews. Now his own kwami was pitying him for looking past whatever was going on with Ladybug. No matter how much he ignored it, he was living his whole life drowning in others' pity for him. Poor Chat Noir, always "obsessing" over Ladybug, always "believing" she was alive, always doing this or that "because" of her. It was almost sickening.

"Plagg, I swear, if you keep looking at me like that, I will hurt you."

It was an idle threat and Plagg knew as much, but it eased the stare.

He saw red lights flashing somewhere past the buildings, past what he was able to see. He could only hope Ladybug, whoever she was, wasn't a casualty being loaded into an ambulance. But…Marcel could be.

"Plagg, hurry up!" he said urgently.

He looked to see the kwami literally shove the rest of the camembert slice down his throat and somehow manage to swallow it. He'd seen Plagg do a lot of weird things but that was disgusting…

"Plagg, claws out!"

He didn't wait for his transformation to complete itself before making a break for the source of those lights. So many buildings seemed to fly by him as he went. Ladybug had been in bad shape but she wasn't the only person who had been caught up in this mess. She had been caught in the middle of it, by far the worst part and place, and she was sick, but at least she wasn't totally defenseless. Chances were, she had already gotten out of there anyway. It was possible that, once she'd transformed back, she regained control and fled. It was only a hope but it was the last thread of positivity he could cling to right now.

He grounded himself on the roof of the building closest to the first ambulance. So far there were only three but he heard a few more in the distance. The entire city hadn't evacuated. Most people were coming out of various buildings they'd taken shelter in instead of running away like any normal person…but, he thought, they could also be in a similar situation to Alya's and Nino's…and didn't want to leave their loved ones behind.

The majority of these stragglers emerging from their refuge consisted almost entirely of wet, shivering folks who were really just having blankets thrown over their shoulders and given warm beverages along with a place to rest while a few paramedics stood by for emergencies.

Other people, however—the unlucky few who couldn't bear to be part of the majority—were being treated for more serious injuries or symptoms. Alya, Nino, and their two daughters were following their son as he was being wheeled into an ambulance on a stretcher. There was no blood and no physical injuries that he could see, but Marcel was just a little kid who'd gotten stuck in a horrible storm. He noticed the boy wasn't sitting up, or even looking around like any normal kid would do. Marcel didn't even have his eyes open. Meanwhile Alya was a wreck and Nino was clearly trying to be the stronger of the two, for her sake if not his own. Their daughters were so confused by their parents' reaction to all this that it was upsetting them, giving Alya and Nino two more responsibilities they really didn't need right now.

Chat's first thought was that he hadn't been there in time, he hadn't brought Marcel back when he should've, and even Alya and Nino hadn't been enough to help their son when he finally did return. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if the snake hadn't been allowed to roam about for as long as it did. The storm could've been quelled so much sooner. Marcel would've been heard and found.

A nearby ambulance was busy tending to a random citizen who appeared to have broken his arm. Blood was coming from somewhere but it couldn't have been too severe seeing as medics weren't throwing him onto a stretcher and shipping him off to a hospital at full speed. Or at least as fast as a large vehicle could go without tipping over on slippery roads…

In reality, none of them were working slow. It seemed that way, though, as two more ambulances arrived and parked about fifty feet away from the others, giving all of them plenty of space to move around and turn if need be.

He watched helplessly as medics helped a range of innocent civilians with any problems. New ambulances, quite possibly from different hospitals, came to assist. Some ambulances left with their sirens on, quick to get their patients—his victims—to a hospital for more serious treatment. One storm, violent as it was, did all this damage… He should've stopped this…

He slowly let himself down to the pavement and nearly went over to comfort Alya and Nino. But…he figured it was best to let the family be alone right now. He didn't know what happened to Marcel. It probably wasn't the best idea to have one more person pestering them, asking them questions, forcing them to acknowledge someone they might not even want there. So he left them alone…for now. Later he could confront them as Adrien. As someone who hadn't been involved in failing to bring back their child in time to avoid this very situation.

Alya and Nino he understood, but why was he also caring so much about these other people…? Normally he left this kind of thing for anyone else to handle, because after a fight he was just done with it all. Was it…because of Ladybug…? Because she'd shown up? Because he had to care now? Any one of these people could be her. What if she was one of the girls being brought to a hospital as he stood idly by watching people suffer one way or the other? What if she was already gone?

He looked at his feet so he would have something else to focus on, something that wouldn't cry in pain or make him feel even worse for allowing all this to happen in the first place. Maybe it was by pure coincidence, or maybe the universe was working in strange ways again, but he saw a tiny stream of some red substance blend with the water surrounding his foot. It was ever so slight but it was still there.

He looked back up at the man with the broken arm but it wasn't coming from him, especially now that he was being guided into an ambulance.

His eyes followed an invisible line running along the bottom of all the ambulances and the people that formed an implied line around them. There was some blood, but none of it leading to him, and none so terribly bad.

His eyes continued down that imaginary line. It was a dark spot—it was always a dark spot, always the last place anyone would look, just like with Marcel—where his vision caught the outline of a shadowy figure resembling…something? As he zeroed in on the trickle of red, he followed its trail, and his suspicions were confirmed when he approached two sprawled legs in a position legs normally wouldn't be in, jutting out just slightly from the corner of a wall.

Habit kicked in and he rounded that corner to find the rest of the body—of her body—face down.

"Marinette…" he breathed.

With his heart threatening to jump out of his chest, he turned her over so she laid flat on her back, straightened out her limbs, and cupped her head in his hands.

"Marinette, can you hear me?"

Her forehead was bruised just enough for him to notice a dull change in skin color and the red trail, blood as he feared, trickled down from her mouth, left ear, and nose. There was a small cut under her left eye but thankfully the bleeding from that had already stopped. The fact that everything seemed to be bleeding from her left side begged the strong possibility of head trauma, even though he couldn't find anything around her that could've been thrown her way during the storm.

"No, no, no, no, no…" he whispered to himself. "Wake up."

Still holding her head, he gently tapped her right cheek with his hand, carefully avoiding any pressure that could affect her left side, and noticed for the first time how cold she was. It was like feeling Marcel except…she wasn't shivering. Her lips were turning blue. Her skin was paler than he'd ever seen it before. She was barely breathing. She wasn't responding at all.

He let go of her head and used his arms to keep himself lifted above her, not touching or putting weight on her—besides, he wasn't exactly warm or dry yet. He let only his hair touch her chest while he listened to a dangerously erratic heartbeat.

He immediately went down to her legs and lifted them up, bending her knees to a right angle before planting her feet firmly on the ground. It was honestly the only thing he knew to do after checking her pulse and breathing… It was the bare basics of first aid but he wasn't exactly a responder…

He left her there, still in a critical state to the point that if she did die in the next several seconds, she would die alone, to get medical help from the nearest paramedic.

He must've looked so panicked, screaming and running for help as this puffed up hero charged with Paris' safety.

The first paramedic to hear him came rushing with a kit to see his problem and Chat already knew, from past experience, to answer as straightforwardly and quickly as possible.

"Female, weak pulse, bleeding, possible head trauma, possible hypothermia, unresponsive," he said as he turned around to guide the woman to Marinette.

Upon his last word the woman looked over her shoulder and called out for a stretcher, still in hearing range of her colleagues.

It couldn't have been but a minute at most but the dash back to Marinette felt like an hour at least. Head trauma was always a major concern but he had been in situations dealing with hypothermia in an occasional civilian caught in the crossfire of an akuma attack. It didn't always sound like a big deal but it was, and if this was what happened to Marcel, and if Marinette for any reason had stayed in the same storm Marcel had gotten out of by luck alone, then it could've just as easily—if not more easily—afflicted her too. Perhaps something hit her head, knocked her out, and the horrible weather tried to finish the job.

The paramedic opened both of Marinette's eyes, something he hadn't even thought to do, and found they were hugely dilated.

"We need to get her clothes off," the woman said.

Suddenly his face was growing hotter even under the film of cold water.

"I…I-I can get her shoes…" he sheepishly replied.

He focused only on Marinette's feet while the woman took off Marinette's shirt. In truth he had done this with men before, taking off their clothes for help with injuries that couldn't be reached otherwise, but girls were forbidden territory and at the most he'd had to rip open one's dress only to expose just her stomach and he made absolutely certain that he did not expose any other part of her. And that was a stranger, doing this to Marinette, to his friend of almost twenty years and going, went against every fiber of his being. Of course he would listen to anyone more medically inclined than him but even saving her life didn't change how uncomfortable this was. In a way he was thankful she wasn't awake for this…

He pulled off her shoes and socks but hesitated on her pants. Maybe it was a good thing that he did. Despite knowing the paramedic was rolling her eyes at his clear incompetency when it came to ripping off a girl's clothes, no matter the reason, he had never before been so glad to be shoved aside by another person—one of the woman's partners.

He kept his eyes closed tight because…Marinette was naked…and he didn't ever intend to see her like that…and he still didn't intend to see her like that…but he could hear people moving her limp body off the ground, onto a stretcher, covering her with what was probably a blanket, and loading her into the ambulance. Only after he knew she was covered did he peek to see the ambulance depart.

Alya was just a complete mess. Nino was a soldier. Raiss was confused. Nicolette was crying. Marcel was gone with his own ambulance. But they were together, at least. Someone had to tell Marinette's family about this… Someone had to be there for her…

He had a choice to either stay and see if maybe Ladybug was still somewhere around, even though she'd probably already left, or follow the girl who had no one. It wasn't a very difficult decision to make.

A/N

*HEAVY PANTING* I'm so exhausted, it's so late, and I wrote so much so fast, please I hope you liked this chapter. The story's averaging at 3 reviews so clearly I'm not doing well in giving you guys much to say about this, so the content isn't all that great. And those that do speak up, thank you for the encouragement!

Like I said, things were going to get a little intense. Brace yourself again now, I have more tricks up my sleeve.