Chapter 12: Pretend like I don't know how this is gonna go

The trapdoor in her bedroom crashed against the floorboards with a bang, and Marinette's eyes snapped open. She caught the vestiges of glittery red as Tikki fled from her shoulder, ducking out of sight.

"Okay, girl, I got your text." She turned to watch as Alya ascended from the entryway — her glasses crooked and hair unkempt as if she'd ran all the way here — and then kicked the hatch shut again. "What's the urgent thing you need to talk about?" She approached her friend, hands planted on her hips. "I canceled my date with Nino to be here, so it'd better be—"

"What?!" Marinette catapulted herself upright from her position on the chaise, the pillow she'd been hugging tumbling to the floor. "You should've told me you already had plans. I never would've asked if I'd known!"

Alya shrugged. "I know. But Nino and I can hang out any time." She leaned toward the other girl, eyes narrowed as if she had the power to extract secrets out of her with nothing but a hard stare. "A code red is a code red. Now spill."

Marinette let out a shaky exhale, working up the courage to reveal just how much poison was festering within her. So much so, that she was bailing on her weekly patrol with Chat to mope in her bedroom instead. (Not that she'd even expected him to show up. He had every right to avoid her like the plague.)

She collected her pillow back into her arms and squeezed the soft fabric tightly. "Adrien, um... tried to kiss me today."

Alya's eyes flew wide and she sank down onto the other side of the chaise, more out of shock than anything else. "What?"

"And I almost let him."

"What!?"

"And then I managed to scare him away."

"Oh my god." She ran a frenzied hand through her hair, and then shuffled closer. "This really is a code red. I need details! What do you mean 'almost'? Does that mean you wanted to kiss him? Why didn't you?!"

Marinette whined and pressed her forehead into the pillow. "Because..." Because for a second, I convinced myself those green eyes belonged to Chat Noir. "...I am clearly a disaster of a human being who plays around with people's feelings."

Alya winced. "Your rejection hurt him, huh?"

Marinette lifted her head back up. "I didn't know he liked me like that! I-I never wanted to ruin things between us. And what's worse is..." Her mouth ran too dry for her to continue.

"What?" Alya prompted, watching her intently.

Marinette swallowed what little saliva she could. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a petite lucky charm with pink and blue beads and a four-leafed clover-shaped square in the middle.

"I was planning on giving him this today. As a thank you for the one he made me. And then..." And then our lips almost touched. "It just w-wasn't the right time."

She'd found the beads in a little thrift shop that she'd searched Paris high and low for. And something about the four-leafed clover had reminded her of Adrien.

There wasn't necessarily anything symbolic about it; she just thought it had looked cute. Or maybe she just wished Adrien all the good luck in the world.

(But hey, at least her charm held some semblance of meaning, unlike the one he'd given her. The golden goose was a reference to the monopoly of capitalism. She'd googled it.)

Alya studied the lucky charm with wide eyes. "Aww! He would've loved this."

Marinette knew he would. That was the problem.

"Yeah, well..." She crossed her legs and let her shoulders slump, the beads clinking against each other as she toyed with them between her fingers. "It's too late now."

Alya gaped at her. "Girl, of course it's not too late! Don't you realize how perfect it would be if you guys dated?" She lurched forward and grabbed Marinette's shoulders, gently shaking her. "The boy likes you! I'm pretty sure you like him. You're both really great people, and I bet things would work out if you just—"

"You don't get it." Marinette's hand tightened around the lucky charm, tears beginning to sting her eyes as her throat closed up. How was she supposed to explain the convoluted mess that was her love life when she had so many secrets to sit on? "I-I can't date him, Alya, I can't."

Alya hesitated. The excitement in her eyes died out, realization taking its place. She slowly pulled her hands away. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry for pushing. Obviously, you can date whoever you want."

Chat Noir's face flashed through Marinette's mind, and words meant to reassure her only resulted in clamping up her chest even tighter than it already was.

"No, I can't," she sobbed, warm tears streaming down her cheeks.

Through her blurred vision, she saw Alya throw her hands up. "I don't know what you want from me!"

Marinette didn't know either. If she did, she would've figured out how to be a better friend by now. To Chat. To Adrien. To Alya.

"I'm s-sorry." She sniffled, accepting the box of tissues Alya passed to her and using one to rub away the stains on her face. Too bad it couldn't it also erase the stains on her heart. "I'm sorry, I know I'm a mess. But I swear, y-you just being here is enough."

Alya shot her friend a smile, and Marinette knew that despite all the things she couldn't explain, she still understood. In her own way. "Alright. No more boy talk. How about a game of Mecha Strike 3?"

The corners of Marinette's lips twitched into an almost-smile of her own. "You're on."

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

His game of Mecha Strike 3 was on at full blast, but Adrien still heard the tell-tale knock of someone rapping at his bedroom door. He paused the game and glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

The door opened and the person he'd expected to be Nathalie peered round, a few inches shorter and sporting a red cap instead of a red streak.

"Hey, dude!" said Nino brightly. The tightness around his worried eyes gave him away though.

Adrien fumbled with the controller in his hands. "Uh, h-hey?"

Nino closed the door behind him and sidled across the room. "Nathalie let me in."

Adrien checked his watch and winced. 7:30pm. His patrol with Ladybug was due to start in half an hour. "Right..."

"I heard about what happened between you and Marinette." Nino jumped over the back of the couch and crash-landed beside Adrien. "And, well... that's rough, buddy." He thumped him lightly on the shoulder. "But I'm proud of you for shooting your shot!"

The shot I shooted whilst having a crying episode and blubbering about how much of a failure I am. Yeah, real romantic.

Adrien scoffed. "What's there to be proud of? I've made things irreparably awkward between us."

"Pssh!" Nino waved a hand. "Marinette's as forgiving as she is clumsy. You guys will bounce back in no time!"

"Yeah..." Adrien didn't think he had the guts to ever face her again, let alone resume any sort of casual friendship. "Maybe."

"Don't overthink it." Nino leaned an arm against the couch. "There's still a chance for you to win her over. You think Alya and I hit things off quickly? Hell no! I screwed up every attempt at flirting I made. I could not be smooth around that girl, no matter how hard I tried. And yet..." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Somehow... for reasons I still haven't completely figured out, she decided to give me a chance."

Adrien laughed humorlessly. "It's simple, Nino. She liked you back. Just for being exactly who you are. But it won't work like that with me and Marinette. She actually likes this other— um..."

He trailed off, deciding he didn't want to reveal her crush on the mystery boy (whether he was real or not), especially since he was pretty sure she'd told him about that in confidence. "Look... When someone doesn't like you back, you can't exactly force them to." He shrugged, staring at the controller in his lap. "So there's nothing I can do."

Nino rolled his eyes. "I don't believe it. There's no way Marinette doesn't like you." He dramatically gestured up and down at the blond. "I mean, look at you!"

Adrien raised an eyebrow. "Thanks?"

"And yeah, okay, I know she's not that shallow. But you have so many other great qualities, dude." Nino pointed at the controller Adrien was still gripping onto. "May I?"

"Huh? Oh. Sure." He handed it to him.

Nino proceeded to unpause and play the game, his eyes narrowed in concentration as the nozzles twirled under his thumbs, colorful reflections of the on-screen robots flashing across his glasses.

"I think she's missing out," he continued. "Maybe she just doesn't see who you really are deep down."

Adrien thought about the muddied soil that had been clogging up his veins as of late, and the weight that seemed to press further and further down on his chest with each passing day. Pinpricks of tears stabbed into his eyes, and he couldn't help but feel relieved that Nino was no longer looking at him.

"Or maybe..." Adrien croaked, "She sees it all too well."

His last comment was lost among the noise of the game.

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

Time passed. Marinette wasn't sure of exactly how much. It wasn't important to her. She didn't want to focus on anything except the challenge of the digital battle, the laughter and jokes shared between her and Alya, the snacks they'd stolen from the bakery below, and the brusque remarks the other girl would throw at her every time she lost. Which was a lot.

Sure, she could take down an akumatized villain with her yo-yo no problem, but avoiding Alya's laser beam on the screen in front of her was apparently above her range of skill. Go figure.

"You need to dodge and then press the down button," Alya deadpanned, after her robot danced across the screen in a celebration of victory for the fifth time.

"I am doing that!" Marinette huffed and leaned backward, rolling her shoulders to alleviate the knots that had accumulated within them. "I think my controller's broken... Wanna swap?"

Alya snorted. "Y'know what? Fine. Just so I can prove to you—"

A distant explosion cut her off. One that shook the foundation of the room, rattled the cutlery lying on the floor beside them, and sparked up a benumbed anxiety inside Marinette's stomach.

The fizzle crept up her spine and then spread across the entirety of her skin, until the screen was blurry and the music was distorted, a high-pitched ringing filling her ears instead.

She just couldn't catch a break, could she?

"What the hell was that?" asked Alya's voice from somewhere on the other side of a tunnel.

"No..." Marinette's own voice said, equally faded. Like someone had wrapped thick soundproofing wool around it. "Please not now."

Another explosion ricocheted across the room and shook through her core.

She wanted so badly to just ignore it.

Just like she was trying to ignore every single other problem she had, shoved deep inside the crevices of her mind.

But it didn't matter what she wanted. She could compartmentalize her life between Marinette and Ladybug all she liked, but she couldn't escape the responsibility she'd signed up for. She couldn't just take a day off whenever things got too overwhelming. No one else was going to save Paris in her wake.

She was just as much a slave to Hawk Moth's demands as his akumatized victims were.

"Marinette..." Someone took the controller out of her sweating hands. "You okay, girl?"

Was she okay?

She blinked. Swallowed. Licked her dry lips. Took an actual breath. The room stopped spinning to such an extreme degree, and Alya's multiple brown eyes morphed from eight into just two.

"Goddammit," Marinette managed to choke out. She hastily scrambled to her feet — Alya reeled backwards to avoid being headbutted — and clambered up her ladder, landing unceremoniously on her bed.

Another explosion cut through the air just as she threw open the skylight on her ceiling, the thunderous boom pouring into her bedroom along with the frigid midnight wind.

This villain sounded powerful. Maybe not powerful enough to win, but powerful enough to sap every ounce of energy she had left and leave her utterly defeated in an entirely different way.

Marinette hesitated, one arm still holding up the glass of the skylight, as she willed herself to climb up. And willed. And willed. And willed.

A hand pressed against her back, urging her forward. She accepted the motivation and hoisted herself up onto the rooftop patio, Alya following close behind.

As she shakily got to her feet, the first thing she became aware of was the color purple. Boatloads of it.

The inky black of the starless sky was quickly being replaced by a blanket of purple clouds, manifesting themselves through the atmosphere at unnatural speeds. Clouds equivalent to those that rumbled across the city right before a storm started, screaming danger, and warning everyone and everything to take shelter as fast as possible.

Clumps of purple smoke cascaded through the city in front of her, permeating across the air. The next explosion struck so close that Marinette gripped the railing in front of her to stop herself tumbling over. Another plume of smoke burst into life as a result.

She recoiled away from it, like the smoke had the capacity to burn her, her heart thudding with enough intensity to rival the sporadic booms. Each one shook the city like the aftershock of an earthquake.

The screams from civilians bounced off the circumference of her hearing range. Screams from her neighbors, friends, family, acquaintances, fellow Parisians. Anyone who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was almost enough to drown out the sounds of the screeching butterflies that swarmed through the city in tightly congregated packs. They weaved past flickering streetlights and soared over the tops of parked cars, many of which had their alarms blaring.

It seemed the storm had finally come to fruition, as several bursts of blinding white lightning struck from the heavy clouds. They crashed down upon turrets and aerial wires, leaving their charred remains smoking and sparking.

Marinette watched the havoc unfold with unblinking eyes.

What kind of fucking power did this villain even possess?

Cold dread sank deeper within her gut as she realized this wasn't even the worst part.

For every purple explosion that burst through the ground, baby fires sprouted into existence — just tiny dots of movement scattered across the landscape.

But fire will always do what fires did best. They began to spread, flickering and crackling until entire houses were ablaze, as they slowly painted the streets of Paris in a color much worse than purple.

Marinette felt an arctic chill flow across her face as all the blood drained out of it. Something heavy shifted inside of her stomach, as the viscous feeling promptly turned acidic. The tiredness that had consumed her only moments ago had been driven out by despair. It churned and burned within her, and the croissants she'd eaten earlier threatened to make a second appearance.

"Woah," Alya whispered, appearing at her side. "That's a lot of fire."

Marinette swallowed down her nausea and clenched the railing tighter. She had to get a grip. Paris needed Ladybug, not a nervous wreck of a teenage girl.

And they needed her right now. There wasn't any time for overly complicated excuses.

"Alya, I..." The metal was warming beneath her palms, sticking to her skin like velcro. "I don't know how to tell you this, but—"

"It's okay, Marinette." Alya's soft tone contrasted sharply against the frenzied screams that surrounded them. "I know."

Marinette's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"I know you're Ladybug."

Her heart dropped all the way into her stomach and yet the rush of blood still managed to reach her ears, pounding through them with unrelenting vigor. She could feel her hands shaking. "Y-You know?"

"I've... I've known for a while."

"How?!" she demanded, ripping herself away from the railing to face her friend. The fast movement threw her into a dizzying whiplash, and she immediately stumbled. "I was... I was careful! I-I never..."

"You did nothing wrong!" Alya placatingly held her hands up, as if Marinette were a skittish animal she needed to calm down. "It's just... You're a pretty good liar. But you've never quite been good enough to fool me. All those instances you'd disappear right before an akuma attack? I eventually put two and two together. And, well..." She lowered her hands from their defensive position, eyes burning with an emotion that could've been anything between pity and awe. "Who else could it have been? No one's as selfless as you, Marinette."

Marinette drew in breath after shaky breath, hands flying to either side of her head. The acidic bile in her digestive system sloshed and spat, traveling up her esophagus and burning her throat.

"Oh god..." she croaked. It didn't matter what Alya tried to claim. She had done something wrong. No one was ever supposed to know about her double life; it was meant to be her burden to bear alone. She'd sacrificed so much to keep it that way — so many plans, so many opportunities. But maybe she never should've risked making friends in the first place. "Oh god, oh fuck!"

"Hey! It's okay." Alya lunged forward, closing the distance between them as she wrapped the other girl in a tight hug. With her friend being the only sturdy thing in a world on the brink of collapse, what else could Marinette do other than cling back just as tightly? "You know I'd never tell anyone. Please don't worry about that. Focus on Paris, girl. Go out there and show that akuma what you're made of!"

"She's right, Marinette." Tikki appeared from behind her shoulder, her large bright eyes shadowed in reflections of fire from the wreckage below. "We need to get moving."

It took all her willpower to break the hug and stand steady on her own two feet. "Alright," she said, voice so far detached from Ladybug's natural confidence, that she felt like a fraud, "I trust you, Alya. I really do. But, uh, listen, I know you like to film the akuma attacks. It's just..." A quick glance toward the orange and purple wasteland had her stomach summersaulting again. "This villain looks pretty dangerous..."

"I'll stay right here, okay?" Alya said, with a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder. "I won't follow you, I swear."

Marinette nodded curtly. "And I'll come back to see you when all this is over."

"You'd better."

She stepped back towards the railing, the distant fire heating her face. Everything was a mess. So many people were in dire need of her help. She didn't know where to go, or where to start.

But maybe she just needed to start at the same place she always started.

Finding Chat Noir.

It didn't matter if their relationship was rocky right now. Because they were partners first, and everything else second.

And somewhere, out there, her partner was waiting for her.

"Tikki," she said, with as much false bravado as she could scrounge up, "Spots on!"

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

It was impossible to look away.

Paris, even at nighttime, had always been so beautiful, so full of life, so colorful in all the right ways.

But there was nothing right about the hues of orange and ochre that lit up the view in front of him. Nothing right about the fiery destruction the city had fallen victim to within the span of five minutes. Nothing right about the rivers of lava that oozed across what used to be streets.

His floor-to-ceiling window gave him an incredibly detailed and vast perspective, and for the first time ever, Adrien wished it didn't.

He took back what he said two days ago.

It didn't matter what Wish Hawk Moth wanted. Nothing in a million years could ever be worth this level of evil.

Regardless, it looked like he and Ladybug wouldn't be doing their regular patrol, after all.

"I don't know about you," said Nino, standing beside him with an equally dumbfounded expression, "But I've never seen an attack quite this bad before."

"Uh-huh," Adrien agreed, real words currently a foreign concept to him.

"Shit, I hope Chris got home from baseball already..." Nino pulled out his phone and frantically typed something. After a few tense moments, his shoulders slumped with relief. "Okay, no, he's fine. The little shit's making toast. Apparently, the fires outside reminded him that—"

"Nino," Adrien said slowly, barely able to hear himself over the morass of panic swirling in his mind, "You should probably go home."

"Yeah, about that..." Nino sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I'd honestly rather not."

"Why not?" Adrien squeaked, the terror in his gut growing fiercer by the second. "There's an akuma attack! Your family are gonna worry."

Nino pocketed his phone and motioned at the window. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there is literal lava out there. I brought an umbrella with me, not a fucking hazmat suit!"

And, well. Adrien couldn't find an argument against that.

"Okay... Okay, no, you're right. I'm an idiot." He slapped both palms to his face and groaned. (He avoided inviting people over to his house for this exact reason.) "Definitely stay here."

"Dude... what's wrong?" Nino asked, his tone a lot softer. "I mean, besides the obvious."

"Um. The thing is..." Adrien pulled his hands away, desperately trying to formulate some sort of plan through his disarrayed thoughts, because Ladybug needed him and he was wasting precious time. "I can't stay here."

Nino tore his eyes away from the burning city to gawk at him. "What do you mean you can't stay here?!"

He shrugged helplessly. "I have to go."

"I repeat, there is literal lava out there," Nino snapped, motioning at the window again but with more emphasis, "And you want to leave?!"

"Yes!"

"You really are an idiot then!"

"I don't have time to explain—"

A distant crash shook the room, causing the two boys to falter, and Adrien bit his lip so hard it bled.

Two explosion-based villains in three days? Really?

Nino scoffed. "You see? Walking into that shitshow is suicide!"

"Not for me, it isn't." Adrien turned and stole toward his bedroom door before he could lose his nerve.

"Jesus Christ, Adrien!" Nino's hand closed around his wrist, tugging him backwards. "I'm not letting you leave!"

"You know what?" He wrenched his arm free. "Fine!"

"What are—?"

"Plagg, claws out!"

The sensation of magic washing over his physique was second nature to him now, but he'd always wondered what the transformation looked like from an outside perspective. Heart thudding, he risked a glance at the other boy.

Nino was staring at him with eyes wide enough to pop out of their sockets, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Uncomfortable under the sudden spotlight, Chat shifted from one foot to the other, completely at a loss for what to say next. He couldn't figure out if his friend's horrified expression meant he was angry. And since he had been lying to him for months, Chat wouldn't even blame him.

Should he just leave?

"Oh my god," Nino finally breathed.

Right. He was definitely angry.

"I-I'm sorry, Nino," Chat forced out, nervousness sinking into his chest. "I didn't... I never wanted to keep this from you, but I swear I had no choice—"

"Oh my god."

"B-But do you get it now? I can't stay here. Dealing with akuma attacks is literally my job, and I need to—"

"Oh my god, you're..." Nino actually started guffawing. "You're Chat Noir! It's you! Oh my god! No way!"

Chat blinked, unprepared for this somewhat positive reaction. "Yes, and I really—"

"Dude, I'm a massive fan!" Nino exclaimed. Then the elation on his face fell away and he cleared his throat. "Okay, no, sorry, this is serious. You have to..." His eyes flitted to the window, and his brow furrowed. "Wow, okay, yeah. Shit. Wouldn't you rather... sit this one out? That lava looks genuinely horrific."

Chat sighed. A part of him would've loved to do that. But he knew he never would. Fu had just been too damn good at picking the perfect Chat Noir, hadn't he?

"I can't. If I don't save Paris, who will?"

"Ladybug!"

"By herself? Would be real nice of me if I ditched her like that."

"I know! I didn't mean that. It's just, I..." Nino chuckled uneasily, hands gripping his elbows. "Y'know... it never really bothered me when Chat Noir was just some stranger." He looked up to meet Chat's stare, eyes shining. "But now that I know it's you, I just... I dunno. I'm scared, man."

Chat smiled, chest warming with fondness. Maybe Nino wasn't angry then. Maybe he was actually the perfect candidate for him to confide in. Keeping this secret to himself for so long had felt like holding his breath, and now he was finally remembering how good breathing felt.

Then it occurred to him that his relationship with Nino might be the only one in his life he hadn't royally fucked up.

"It'll be okay," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be okay."

Nino huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, no, of course you will be. You're Chat Noir!" He clapped him on the back. "You get 'em, dude."

Chat nodded and took a deep breath, turning to face the mess that was his responsibility.

Always his responsibility.

Just another chance for him to screw up.

You destroy everything you—

(Don't think about it.)

He pushed open his window and jumped up onto the ledge. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised.

And then he leaped into the awaiting danger.

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

Ladybug hazily walked through the devastation of an empty street, feet that didn't feel like they belonged to her taking step after step. She couldn't bring herself to do much more than stare.

Being in the middle of it felt so much worse than watching from her balcony.

The rumbling sky above her was the color of deep bruises, lightning striking intermittently. Ruined cars and piles of debris were alight with fire, and rubble of all different materials littered the cracked pavement.

Crisp cinders wafted through the air. She could taste the ash in her mouth, could feel it burning her eyes and yet, she still couldn't blink.

It didn't make any sense. Akuma attacks could get lethal, yes, but they usually happened within a concentrated area of the city. They were never quite so widespread. Never quite so ruthless. The battle hadn't even begun, and yet the carnage already looked far too heavy.

A scream rang through her ears and she snapped out of her haze, hand reaching for the yo-yo at her hip.

She watched a mother and daughter run along the desecrated road, fear etched onto both their faces. A flurry of hissing purple butterflies drenched in a thick cloud of mist chased after them, filling the street with their fury, with no regard for anything that got in their way. The mother picked up the little girl in order to run faster, but they weren't going to make it.

Without thinking, Ladybug threw her yo-yo and swung. With her free arm, she caught hold of them both and steered them out of harm's way. The rush of butterflies soared past, their trajectory undeterred.

Not wasting a second, she set down the mother and daughter, and cast her yo-yo again. She took off across the city, adamant to help every civilian she could find.

But there were so many. So many people caught up in the chaos who were screaming and running for their lives, and Ladybug corralled them away from the danger as best she could. She pulled them out of rubble, shielded them from the debris of explosions, helped lost children find their parents.

But good god, there was only one of her. And Paris was huge. She couldn't save everyone. And what's worse was she couldn't seem to find the one person who'd actually be able to help her.

"Chat," she hissed under her breath, "Where the hell are you?"

Whatever answered her call, it certainly wasn't Chat Noir.

An eerie feeling crept through her senses, and she slowly turned around to face the Eiffel Tower in the near distance. A purple orb of distorted glowing matter sprung to life at the very tip, rapidly growing in size.

With the tower as its epicenter, the nebulous force painted the sky like a muriel, warping and distorting the air in a kaleidoscope of shapes, until it encased the entire monument in its interior. The sphere cascaded outwards across civilization.

Whilst everyone ran away from the bizarre spectacle, Ladybug ran toward it, spinning her yo-yo and throwing it against the oncoming threat. She grunted as the impact slammed into her shield, coursing up her arm and through her body. Her stance faltered slightly, unprepared for how strong the force was.

And apparently only getting stronger. She gritted her teeth and pushed harder against the spinning shield with both hands. Her muscles screamed in protest and the ground cracked beneath her planted feet, but she refused to budge. She wouldn't let it wash across the city. Flocks of butterflies continued to scatter past her, as if mocking her pitiful efforts to protect everyone.

Her periphery alerted her that one person wasn't running away. Ladybug shot a glance over her shoulder, only to see some guy taking a selfie in front of the purple veil.

Unbelievable.

"Get outta here!" she shrieked at him.

He threw her an apologetic look and then took off down the steps into the subway.

She focused back on her fight with the forcefield, but her stamina could only last for so long before it collapsed in on itself. Her yo-yo's momentum began to lose power as her wrist started shaking.

The nebula let out an inhuman roar. An invisible force abruptly slammed into her like wall of solid matter and sent her flying through the air. Too stunned to even scream, Ladybug careened backwards several feet, before roughly bouncing across the cobbled ground until she skidded to a stop.

White hot pain exploded through her skin (the skin she probably only still had because of the supersuit) and she choked for air that was no longer in her lungs.

Her yo-yo trilled softly from somewhere nearby. She languidly reached for it, but it had landed too far away, and her hand dropped back down in defeat.

Through her blurry vision, she watched a heavy funnel of violet smoke accumulate within the air directly above her, reeking of nefarious intent. It solidified and then shot downwards with a hiss.

Even if she'd had the energy, there wasn't any time to dodge, so Ladybug clenched her eyes shut and braced herself for the inevitable collision.

She felt a pair of arms scoop her up with lightning reflexes that she'd only ever known one other person be able to do. Wind battered against her as she was rushed away from the danger, the explosion harmlessly booming out from behind.

Even as their mad dash slowed to a stop, she stayed with her head leaning against the leather of his chest, unwilling to pull away from the only safe place left on Earth.

"Bug?" he panted, tightening his grip on her. He hunkered down, draping her legs over his lap. "Hey. You okay? Come on, please say something."

Ladybug's eyes flickered open. They'd taken refuge behind a low granite wall, temporarily safe from the countless things trying to kill them.

Her gaze landed on his concerned green eyes. And all the fear immediately fell away, leaving her featherlight as the adrenaline coursing through her veins thickened into something more sturdy. More secure. It didn't feel like the burden had been lifted, but more like they were now sharing it between them.

Like they always did.

Ladybug couldn't quite suppress the sob that bubbled up through her chest.

"Oh my god," she choked, throwing her arms around his shoulders and hugging him against her. Fires still burned and lightning still crackled, but in that moment, her entire world was reduced down to nothing but the boy in her arms, warm and real and tangible. "Oh my god. Chat!"

He pulled his arm out from under her knees so he could hug her back. "It's alright," he muttered into her hair, his grip just as strong as hers and his voice just as hoarse, "I've got you."

But no matter how perilous the situation was, Ladybug couldn't leave the elephant in the room.

"Chat, about last night... I'm sorry." She felt his muscles tense up in her grasp. "I'm so sorry. I won't ever try to kiss you again, and I promise I'll get over my feelings. I won't let this ruin our partnershi—"

"It's okay, Bug," Chat said, tone laced with a softness she knew she didn't deserve. "I mean it. We all make mistakes sometimes, remember?"

It was a statement he liked to throw out a lot. Usually when one of them blundered in a trivial way during battle. When something was easy to brush off and laugh about.

Not something like this.

She pulled away to observe him, but she could find nothing deceptive in his expression. "You can't possibly mean that."

He sighed, eyes flitting down toward his lap. His cat-ears twitched anxiously above his mop of blond hair. "Look. I know we both messed up last night—"

"You didn't mess up a thing—"

"And we can talk later, if you want." He gently pulled himself out from under her legs and straightened up, taking hold of her hand. "But right now, I need my partner."

She met his eyes once more and her chest burned. Hotter than any of the other aches and pains from the injuries that sheathed her body.

Love wasn't always powerful. Sometimes it was unbearable. It hurt so much to know that she loved him for all the wrong reasons. She knew it was unfair for him, and if he had any sense at all, he'd run as far away from her as he could.

Yet here he was.

She couldn't believe that after everything she'd done, he was still willing to stand by her side. Still willing to look at her like she was the epitome of pure goodness, and not a soul-sucking parasite who leeched off his compassion like it was a drug.

Numbly, she nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She picked up her yo-yo and set it at her hip, the string magically snapping back into place.

Coming to a silent agreement, they both turned and raced toward the eye of the storm, their shoes thudding against broken rubble and cracked sidewalks. Civilians had long since evacuated the adjacent streets, leaving them desolate and eerily soundless.

The two superheroes weaved past patches of fires and jumped over narrow streams of glowing lava, running in tandem as their destination drew closer.

They finally drew to a stop in front of the looming Eiffel Tower and stared up at it. A circular cloud of nebula haloed the very top, flashes of energy rippling out across the sky from its centerpoint.

Ladybug swallowed thickly, fear creeping its way back into her. "I think the villain is up there."

Chat nodded. "What's the plan, 'melon?"

It was a question he'd asked many times before, throughout countless akuma attacks. He always said it with so much assurance, so much adoration. Like he was ready to blindly trust her and follow her lead on whatever ridiculously convoluted solution she came up with.

But right now, standing amongst a ruined city, at the end of her wits, and harboring no plans whatsoever, all it made her want to do was burst into tears.

"I don't know," she whispered, despite how much it killed her to admit it.

"Come on," he said brightly, "Lay 'em on me. No idea is too terrible—"

"I DONT KNOW!" she exploded, ignoring the way Chat flinched. "I have nothing! I have no idea what to do!" She blinked back angry tears, the heat of the fires helping to keep her eyes dry. "I don't think... I don't think we can win this one, Chat."

His confident posture didn't change, but she saw his cat-ears droop. "What do you mean?"

"Look at what this akuma has done to our home!" she roared, gesturing wildly around at the havoc that strongly resembled how she felt on the inside. "Think about what they could do to us! Explosions, fire, lava, fucking BUTTERFLIES! They literally have their pick of the litter on how they off us. We only have a yo-yo and a stick!"

"We don't win through strength," he argued. "We win through strategy. We always have. And there'll be a way to—"

"There isn't!" Her voice cracked, shrill like nails on a chalkboard, but reeling in her anger was no easier than her ability to fly into space. "If we try to fight, we're going to die!"

Chat's posture finally gave out, his shoulders dejectedly slumping as he stared at her in betrayal. Finally. An emotion she actually deserved.

"You want to just... give up?" he asked, voice small.

"No, but..."

But I don't know how else to protect you.

She gritted her teeth, biting down on the urge to lash out at the person who least deserved it. "Chat, be rational. This villain is too powerful. I don't know how they're accomplishing all this, but... there's nothing I can do to stop them from destroying the city."

Chat's eyebrows knitted themselves together, his glare turning furious. For a moment, she thought it might be directed at her. But then he looked back up towards the peak of the Eiffel Tower.

There was something broken about the burning green fires in his eyes. And it terrified her more than anything else she'd seen that night.

"They're not the only one with the power to destroy," Chat seethed, with a bitterness she didn't know he'd even possessed. He pulled out his baton and extended it with a snap. "This ends tonight."

By the time she figured out what he was about to do and lurched out her hand to try and stop him, he'd already taken off up the side of the Tower.

"Chat!" she screamed, watching his form shrink as he raced further and further away from her. "Chat, wait!"

Without hesitation, she grabbed her yo-yo and threw it at a beam. Because the idea of letting him face an impossible threat alone was more nerve wracking than facing it right alongside him.

A sudden squall of butterflies descended upon her from above, beating their wings unitedly and shoving her off the tower. A gasp escaped her throat as she landed hard on the cement, cracking it.

She squinted through the thick purple mist and saw that Chat was now a mere dot in the distance.

"No!" Ladybug scrambled to her feet and tried again. The horde of butterflies attacked a second time, knocking her to the floor with the same level of aggression.

She tried a third time. A fourth time. On the fifth try, she gave up and collapsed to her knees, sobs she couldn't hold back anymore wracking her body. Thick tears fell from her dirt-stained face and molten rock swirled in her chest, burning her lungs.

"Kitty..." she wept, hands clutching at the broken pieces of concrete she'd created through her several crash landings, "I'm sorry."

She couldn't get to him. Whoever was up there, they clearly didn't want her tagging along.

Chat was on his own.

And every bone in her body was screaming with fear at the premise of what might happen next.

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

Pure hatred pumping through his blood was the only thing that kept Chat going as he ascended up the rusted tower, using his prowess as a superhero to his full extent.

He cleanly dodged all the explosive bombs that rained down on him as he leaped from bar to bar, occasionally shoving his baton into the crevices between the beams to give him a boost.

Ladybug's gut-wrenching screams faded away, and the lightning strikes grew louder the higher he got. Wind whipped against him in response to his intense velocity, and he pushed himself harder to cut through it. He reminded himself again and again that he was so close to the end.

He couldn't give up now.

A low-hanging purple sky greeted him from above. And as he neared the peak, he caught sight of a figure standing on the highest balcony, their statuesque persona watching him with mild curiosity.

Like he was just an inconvenience, and not a threat with full intention of ending their reign.

Chat jumped up onto the railing with a clang, balancing expertly on his metal boots, so he could have the high ground. He observed the latest villain that was now only a few feet away from him.

It was a man, dressed in a sleek ensemble of indigos and violets, with a mask covering his face and a scepter clutched in one hand. Possessed butterflies full of vitriol reverently swarmed around him like he was their deity.

The villain said nothing to him. Nothing about demanding his miraculous. Nothing about threatening to unleash his power on him. He merely stared up at him with a gloating smirk that turned Chat's veins to ice.

There was only one thing he could think to do. The one thing that always worked for him. The one thing he was made for.

He'd promised Ladybug he'd never use his powers directly on an akumatized victim. But so much destruction had already been unleashed across the city tonight, what was one more? No other alternative felt worth the risk. He had to stop this nightmare by any means necessary.

Ladybug fixed everything anyway, right?

He unfurled his fist.

"Cataclysm," he hissed under his breath, solidifying his endeavor. He felt the familiar kinetic heat stem across his palm and up through his fingers.

Releasing a roar of pent-up frustration, Chat pounced, letting gravity control his trajectory as he descended upon the man in purple.

The villain didn't even flinch, like he wasn't particularly bothered by the superhero hurtling directly towards him. Behind his mask, a deranged and sinister glint flickered across his cold blue eyes: the same look Chat had seen in every single akuma.

Chat kept his arm outstretched as he fell closer. He didn't know what was going to happen; he'd never used his power on a person before. Would the man disintegrate? Crumble? Turn to stone? Simply keel over and die?

It didn't matter. Chat's entire life revolved around unknown outcomes. The only thing he knew for certain was that this would protect Ladybug. And that's all he'd ever done.

So fast he barely saw it happen, the villain's hand shot out and seized Chat's forearm before his bubbling palm could make contact. The momentum of Chat's body was ripped to a jarring stop, twinging his muscles and cutting off his cry of surprise. His baton dropped out of his other hand, clattering to the floor and rolling away.

Chat was left suspended in mid-air, his cataclysmic hand thrumming uselessly and his feet dangling above the ground.

"Let. Me. Go!" he barked through gritted teeth, struggling against the iron grip that was almost tight enough to hurt, even through the suit. He lifted his leg and tried kicking the man's chest, but he was roughly jerked sideways and out of range, his attacks falling on empty air.

Chat writhed and twisted harder as he attempted to break free, spikes of fear dancing through his cistern of anger. He wasn't used to dealing with villains that could overpower him; the vast majority of them were all talk and no bite.

But this one was different. There was something about the way he held himself in such an austere manner. The way the screeching butterflies fluttered around them, as if just waiting for the order to rip Chat apart. The way he could lift him up like he weighed less than a feather.

It was terrifying. And he had no idea how Hawk Moth had managed to create an akuma like this.

He'd never been so staunchly reminded that he was just a scrawny teenage boy. And compared to this full-grown man (who somehow obtained the same enhanced strength that he did), his so-called 'power of destruction' was nothing more than child's play.

The villain's mouth stretched into a smile, eyes still burning with that sinister glare that was so much more daunting in their close proximity. "You think this power will save you, little kitten?"

Malice dripped from his tone and Chat almost shrank away from it. But instead, he swallowed down the frantic heartbeat in his throat and summoned all the remaining vestiges of his courage.

"Yes, I do," he spat, grabbing hold of the man's wrist with his free hand and yanking as hard as he could. His body shook with the excursion, but he could feel it working. Little by little, the villain's death-grip around his entrapped arm was starting to loosen, alleviating his blood circulation.

Then all at once, the man completely let go of him. Chat's feet hit the balcony, but his victory was short-lived.

He felt something thin and blunt sharply stab into the space between his shoulder blades, strong enough to send him lurching toward the floor.

Instinctively, Chat threw his hands up to catch his fall. But the sharp object — which was likely the villain's scepter — followed him all the way down, slamming him into the ground with even more force. His chin bounced off the metal hard enough for him to see static and his lungs flatlined on impact, the air ejecting out of them faster than a rocket.

Chat harshly sucked in a breath with success equivalent to breathing through a thin straw. He tried again, to no avail, and his heart only hammered harder.

With the scepter still digging into his back, he felt (or more accurately sensed) the man kneel down and lean over him, his shadow casting darkness across Chat's already blurry vision.

"Now let's see if cats always land on their feet," he hissed, close enough that his breath tickled the hair next to his ear.

"Wha...?" Chat rasped, oxygen levels far too low for him to even decipher what that meant.

The pressure against his back abruptly left, and so did the presence of the man leaning over him.

This was his chance!

If he acted fast, he could catch the man by surprise and shove a cataclysm straight into his smug face. He flexed his fingers in preparation, ready to lunge.

But instead, Chat froze.

Because he could no longer feel any thrum of bubbling energy.

Blinking away the last of the dancing black stars in his eyesight, he focused on his hand. His very normal, non-sparkling hand, resting against the floor of the Eiffel Tower's tallest balcony.

The floor that wasn't quite as bronze as he remembered it being beforehand.

Through the drumming in his sensitive ears, he heard something that sounded like crackling, squelching and slime all at once.

Chat sluggishly pulled his head up off the floor to assess the situation.

The miniscule amount of air he'd manage to draw back into his lungs immediately fled again, and his heart lurched so violently his ribcage almost shattered.

Through his panic, he'd forgotten why he never used his cataclysm impulsively.

Because he couldn't control the power after it left his hand. He couldn't erase the thick black gunk that now corrupted the area his palm had touched. He couldn't stop it from spreading.

He could only watch as the spiel of destruction snaked across the balcony like an obsidian blanket, infecting its iron with his venom.

It didn't happen fast like the train had been. Maybe it sensed that there was no urgency needed this time. Or maybe it just enjoyed prolonging the horror that lanced through him, acidic enough to dissolve his organs.

The villain levitated off the platform, swept up by his hail of butterflies. They carried him through the air and into the night, far away from the incoming disaster.

And then Chat Noir was completely alone. Left to deal with the collapsing Eiffel Tower and the consequences of his own actions.

"N-No!" Chat forced himself to his feet, ignoring the way his head spun, and staggered toward the railing. He gripped it for support, as he leaned over to witness his colossal mistake. "No..."

He stared in horror as the darkness swept down the Eiffel Tower like a waterfall, wrapping each section in ruination. Bolts snapped out of place; support beams cracked and bent; iron plates succumbed to the vicious veins of rot one by one.

The wave of destruction finally hit the ground. A thunderous explosion shook the hilt of the tower, its vibrations rocketing all the way back up to the tip.

Chat heard it before he felt it.

The sound that haunted his nightmares.

The sound of metal tearing apart.

He barely had time to acknowledge the gouging terror that quaked through every cell in his body, before the entire monument snapped in half, metallic dust shooting up in a cloud of smoke.

As the top moiety of the Tower violently tilted, so did the dread in Chat's chest. Pure panic took over and he booked it, sprinting against the reclining platform. He reached a hand out for the railing on the other side, but the balcony lurched to an almost vertical degree before he had the chance.

Chat desperately clawed at the ground, but its smooth surface offered nothing to grab onto and he immediately slid down on his front, a scream ripping itself from his throat.

Then there was nothing underneath him at all, and he was plummeting through the unrestrained air.

He'd never fallen before. Not properly. Not in a way he couldn't easily catch himself or use his baton to soften the impact. But neither of those options were applicable right now.

Gravity wasn't as fast as he'd thought it would be.

He was still extremely conscious of everything happening around him: the fierce wind whipping against his hair and stinging his eyes; his hands in front of him, still desperately trying to reach out for something that wasn't there; the vertigo slicing through his stomach; the large broken pieces of metal following his route as they plummeted down right alongside him, like an act of solidarity.

No. There was absolutely nothing fast about this fall of doom.

Car crashes, however? Those tended to happen fast. Like an explosion.

He remembered exactly how his car crash had felt. There hadn't really been much time to process anything. One second, he'd been sitting in the back of his father's volkswagen watching a video on his phone and sipping coke from a paper cup, while his mom chatted about the upcoming défilé de mode with his dad in the front seat.

The next second, his earbuds had been ripped away from his ears, coke was spewed all over the car's ceiling, and he was lying in a heap against shattered glass, desperately trying to breathe through lungs that had been flattened by the impact of his seatbelt.

He supposed a small amount of things had happened between those two seconds. He distinctly remembered the way metal screeched when it was torn apart. The way the deafening crash of the collision had reverberated like a bass drum in a large echoing auditorium. The way his mother had managed to scream the first two syllables of his name. Because, for some reason, he was the first thing she'd thought of.

And he'd also been the last. She never got to think again after that.

Most of the memorable things had happened after those two seconds though. Like when the pain set in, and it was hard to figure out which part of him hurt the most because everything hurt. When the panic set in, because he couldn't move, and he couldn't fathom any explanation as to why that was.

When the fear set in, as each moment that ticked by drilled it further into him that this wasn't a horrific nightmare he'd soon wake up from — this was actually happening. When the dread set in, since his dad had started yelling his name, but that didn't matter because his mother had yelled his name first and she'd never finished her sentence and oh god why wasn't she finishing her sentence

He remembered sobbing, thinking it was never going to end. Because the 'after' part? That was the part that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

But despite the fact he was currently falling from a one thousand foot drop and had significantly less time to think, this too seemed to be lasting a lifetime.

Chat grunted as he collided with one of the large clumps of debris falling next to him, the momentum flipping his body over in mid-air.

Suddenly he was no longer facing the disaster he'd caused with the touch of a hand, but instead the Seine below him. The river glowed under the moonlight, blinding his eyes with its reflective sheen. Debris traveling faster than him were already landing in the water, heavy splashes bathed in white froth rippling out with each impact.

His trajectory was on course for him to land in the water, too: a slightly more merciful fate than slamming straight into concrete.

Except there was still one small issue.

Similarly to what had happened with the Eiffel Tower, something was rapidly spreading across the river. Not black this time, but bright orange. A substance that burned like hot sizzling embers, angry and festering.

Lava.

Was he going to land in it?

Was it going to hurt?

From this height, supersuit or not, a body of water would feel like ramming into a ton of bricks.

But lava?

He couldn't even comprehend that. A ton of bricks followed by the excruciating pain of melting to death? Man. He hoped the fall killed him first.

Within the calamity of his panicked emotions, a horrific thought abruptly struck him: if he was hurtling into peril, he knew his partner couldn't be too far away.

Ladybug will never leave you out of your depth.

Plagg's claim had turned out to be true. And usually, he was thankful for that. It made him feel safe, knowing someone always had his back.

But if this was lava, and Ladybug didn't realize that in time before jumping in after him...

Oh god.

Would he jump in after her? If the roles were reversed. If Ladybug was falling to her death, and Chat Noir wielded the miraculous of creation and had all of Paris depending on his survival and ability to fix the damage. Would he still follow her into the depths of hell without a second thought?

The answer was yes. Yes, he would.

He just hoped Ladybug was stronger than he was.

In fact, he already knew. There was a reason she was the Ladybug and not him. He wasn't strong. He hadn't even hit the water yet, and he was already drowning.

He'd failed. At every single thing he'd set out to do. And now karma was delivering his comeuppance by throwing him into Earth's very own hellfire.

Maybe he deserved this.

The world he'd tried to recreate was held up by pillars of sand: precarious and fragile, but they looked sturdy enough in the eyes of anyone watching. These pillars weren't maintainable though. He'd always known that.

His world was cracking fast, fissures ripping across its infrastructure and breaking it apart. He was powerless to stop it. Powerless to do anything but watch.

As it all

came crashing down.