Chapter Text
A series of unfortunate events. That's what Chat's whole life had been, but these last few moments had been particularly unfortunate. An akuma that can manipulate the very stone around them? Unfortunate. Not that far out of the ordinary though - Chat had dealt with his fair share of akumas, and there had been much worse than this (thinking about that one time with the surgeon always makes him shudder). Somehow, though, things only went downhill from there. Despite his and Ladybug's best efforts to draw the akuma out into wide open areas (parks, the exterior of the Louvre), they'd been cornered at the bottom of a nearby parking garage. Which wouldn't usually be so terrible - plenty of cars to dodge blasts from the akuma, and a low ceiling to prevent an akuma that can fly from escaping? Perfect! Do you know what's less perfect? Having thousands and thousands of pounds of concrete above your head that the akuma can turn to rubble with a snap of their fingers.
Unfortunate.
The akumatised object was obvious; a hard hat that looked out of place on the victim wearing some kind of a Spandex suit - not dissimilar to his own, just in a weird browny-beige colour. No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was how evasive this akuma was, pointing at the ceiling and the ground to cause concrete to rain down from above and jagged rifts to open up below. Most of Chat’s energy was spent dancing around chasms and ducking past falling rubble, and he could hear more than see that Ladybug was having the same issues, with colourful curses falling from her lips that he only tended to hear in the worst fights. The akuma danced ahead, revelling in the destruction. Ladybug, against all odds (which is how she tended to work anyway), got a lucky hit in with her yoyo that caused the hardhat to fly off the akuma’s head, only a few metres away from Chat.
“Chat!” she yelled, and no other words needed to be said as he pounced forward, snatching the hardhat up off the ground, lobbing it in her direction.
“Oh no you don’t!” a voice cried - the akuma, as they raised both hands. Just for a split second, Chat saw exactly what was about to happen, in a way that his Lady apparently didn’t as she raised the hardhat over her knee, ready to break it in two. The akuma pointed. One hand at the ground beneath Ladybug’s feet, the other at the ceiling above her head.
“No!”
Ladybug’s head jolted up at his outcry and her eyes widened as three things happened in dizzying unison. The hardhat came down harshly over her knee, making an awful crack as the akuma fluttered out. A large, crumbling crevice opened up beneath the one leg that Ladybug was using to support herself, the other suspended in the air as she destroyed the akumatised object over it.
And the ceiling over her head began to come crashing down.
Chat saw, sprinting towards her, drawing out his baton, as Ladybug dropped, with one leg disappearing into the chasm and the other landing awkwardly on her knee above. Instinct led her to put both hands on the ground - to support herself - and he watched with horror as a giant slab of concrete slammed down onto her right arm with a sickening crunch.
She screamed.
It echoed around the garage even as he leapt towards her, insides cold, baton extending upwards, shielding her body as a slab of concrete the size of a car began to dislodge itself from the ceiling. More debris fell around them - one piece landing on his leg, pulling a sharp yell out of him. The world crashed down all around him.
And then there was nothing but the roar of rock, the judder through his baton as if something truly enormous had landed atop it, and small bits of rock and dust and god knows what else raining over him.
And darkness.
—----------------------------------------------------
Chat’s mind felt… foggy. There was this strange sound he was hearing, something other than the crumbling and cracking of stone, although that seemed to be the only sound he knew. Sifting through his thoughts was like wading through molasses, but he concentrated on that eerie noise and let it guide him through the mental cobwebs.
It was something breathing. Gasping, even. Choking lungfuls of air being heaved in and out. Painful.
Ladybug.
He groaned and felt his senses return to him - a painful pressure on his legs, his back. One hand braced on the ground, the other with a vice-like grip on his baton which seemed to extend just a few inches above his head. Holding stone at bay.
Dust flew into his mouth as he inhaled deeply, and he coughed, which made his chest hurt and - wow, every single part of him hurt.
That wasn’t what concerned him, though.
His eyes, which he had screwed shut tightly against the pain and the dust, cracked open. He looked down.
Oh. Oh God.
She was there. Body pinned to the floor under tonnes of concrete. Like him, she had managed to sort of prop herself up with one arm - her left - but her right arm was buried under a huge chunk of concrete. Even with dim light and minimal mobility for him to look around, it was clear that her arm was twisted at such an unnatural angle that looking at it made Chat feel sick.
Ladybug coughed weakly, and whimpered.
“My Lady?” His voice was no more than a croak.
“Ch-Chat,” she said.
There was no bravado in her voice. None of that confident strength that he’d grown to admire her for. She sounded scared. In pain. Hearing that, more than anything, is what caused something to crack inside Chat.
“Chat… the akuma.” He paused, wondering why the hell that was her priority, when he saw the strange little butterfly just a few centimetres away, trying to worm its way in between the gaps in the concrete and out.
No. No matter what happened here, they couldn’t let it get away. He didn’t want to have to travel down that road if it did.
“Cataclysm”.
The butterfly fell away into ashes.
Ladybug’s miraculous beeped four times, followed by five sequential beeps from Chat’s ring.
Oh.
He’d forgotten that she’d used her lucky charm as a last ditch effort to trap the akuma. She’d gotten a bouncy ball. Neither of them seemed to know where it was.
“My Lady,” he said again, because it felt as though there was nothing more to say. They were trapped, and running out of time. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in and he felt his stomach drop. They needed to get out in the next five minutes - four, really - or else they’d be crushed by debris. The amount of pressure that could incapacitate two people with superpowers surely wasn’t survivable by two civilians.
He fumbled awkwardly at his baton, attempting to extend it upwards, but whatever lay atop it was far too heavy to yield. He tried pushing up, out, against the rubble at his back, as hard as he could, but nothing moved. His breathing quickened. He scrabbled with his other hand at the ground, at the walls, looking for something - anything - that could help them find a way out, but all it caused was for more dust to cascade down upon them.
“Chat, stop.”
He paused, and looked down at Ladybug. Her head was bowed but she slowly, achingly raised it up to meet his eye, inches away from his chest. Her furrowed brow and clenched jaw spoke of her pain, but her eyes gave away what she was really feeling.
Defeat.
“We can’t move. There’s no point wasting your energy when you could just make it worse. We just have to hope that someone - maybe the akuma victim - will find us and bring help.”
Her words were to the point, and stoic, almost as if this were just another tricky situation that they’d gotten themselves in, like always. The flatness of her tone said otherwise.
“We’ll transform back before anyone gets to us,” Chat said, staring at her.
“Yes.”
“The rubble will crush us.”
She didn’t deny it. Her gaze dropped to his chest, eyes filling with tears.
“I didn’t want it to end like this,” she spoke softly, “although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Our jobs are dangerous. There was always gonna be an akuma attack that went too far, that did too much damage for me to fix.”
“My Lady, what are you saying?” Chat’s heart was a pounding, nervous mess. He felt sick with helplessness.
“I’m saying that… that I’m sorry it has to be this way. But… I’m glad you’re here with me.” She lifted her teary eyes to lock onto his, and something rammed its way through Chat’s heart. “I’m glad it’s you. Despite everything, it always has been. You’re my best friend, Chat.”
“Stop… stop saying that, my Lady. Stop acting like this is goodbye! We’ll make it out of this, one way or another, like we always do.”
Her earrings beeped. After a few seconds, so did his ring. It was as though their miraculouses were mocking his very words, laughing at his inability to accept the inevitable.
“No…” He sniffled. His eyes, first stinging from the dust, clouded over with tears. He couldn’t stop them from dripping onto his cheeks; an onslaught that stung at the microcuts on his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that because this was it. He had a few more minutes left with her, the most important person in the world. Somehow, making sure she knew that felt crucial, like closure, and he felt the worlds bubble up and spill out before he could stop them.
“I love you.”
Ladybug burst into tears.
“I love you so much, my Lady. I don’t care who you are under that mask, what kind of imperfections you want to mask - I love you, I love that girl, whoever she is underneath.”
“Oh, Chat…” Ladybug’s voice cracked as she cried openly and she stared at him, eyes darting across his face as if to take it all in. Her lips trembled as she said, “I’m sorry I can’t be that person for you. But I love you too, with all my heart, even if it’s not in the way that you want.”
He leaned down towards her, ever so slightly, the only movement the rubble would allow. Her head bumped against his chest and she leaned her forehead against him, sniffling. Chat let that single point of contact be an anchor. And, oddly enough, her rejection didn’t hurt at all. When all was said and done, his love needed no requital, no reciprocation. She was enough. It was enough.
He dropped his chin down to rest gently on the crown of her head, and breathed in the dust and the sweat and the faint scent that could only be hers. More beeps from the jewellery. He could feel the arm that she was using for support start to tremble wildly.
“My Lady, why are you apologising for something outside of your control? I love you as you are. You can’t decide who you love.”
“Chat…” she whispered, burrowing further into his chest - as far as she could go without strain. “You’re too good for me. Maybe in another lifetime… if it weren’t for this other boy. Maybe that could have been you.”
“Tell me, my Lady,” Chat heard the pain in her voice, wanting nothing more than to soothe it away. “Tell me about this boy who has your heart.”
“He… he’s good. He’s kind and smart and considerate and deserves so much more than the hand that’s been dealt to him. He reminds me a lot of you, in a funny way.”
“Oh?”
“Less puns though,” she said, chuckling softly. Her laugh warmed the ice-cold blood in his veins.
“He must be quite the catch if he caught the Lady’s eye.”
“Oh, kitty. You’re wonderful.”
“No, my Lady. I’m… happy for you. Truly. And I’m sorry it had to be this way.” He heard a loud sniffle from below, and imagined whatever she was feeling - heartbreak, probably, at a life and a future with someone she loved lost.
He grunted as the concrete started to properly weigh down on his back. The miraculouses beeped once again. There was a heavy moment of silence, and then-
“Hey Chat?”
“Mmm.”
“My favourite colour is pink.”
If it weren’t in this very context, Chat would latch onto that piece of information like it was a pastry and he was a starving man. Instead, it felt like a nail in the coffin.
“Mine is blue,” he responded quietly.
“And… I like to bake. My parents do it for a living, actually.”
“Makes sense. You’re sweet.” Low-hanging fruit, that one. Again, he pulled a small laugh from her.
“I really love video games,” she continued.
“Mmm. Me too, my Lady.”
“And my favourite subject in school is French Literature.” Every tidbit hurt to hear, like they were the words of a dying woman.
“Mine’s Physics, actually.”
“You’re insane,” she said, huffing. He smiled slightly.
“I’ve had a massive crush on the boy I sit behind in class for several years now.”
“Ah. I’ve had a crush on this girl I work with for years now, too. She’s brave and kind and fierce and I trust her with my life.” He looked down at her and he felt her move her head to look back at him, with sadness etched into the corners of her mouth. The miraculouses beeped again, as if to punctuate his sentence.
He continued. “I trust her with all that I have. Including the real me.”
Her eyes widened, but she made no move to stop him, so he barrelled on.
“I’ve spent a lot of my life alone, in a cold house, without much love. When I first met you, it was like you gave me that companionship and warmth I needed. And I loved you for it. I still do. I’ve… I’ve healed now, in ways that I didn’t think were possible. I have friends who I care for, deeply. But you were always that catalyst, my Lady. So, thank you.” He closed his eyes. Thinking about his friends - who he would probably never see again - hurt. “But I always dreamed of having that one person who knew me completely, in my entirety. I wanted that to be you, no matter what our relationship looked like.”
He opened his eyes and saw such warmth, such love, that it almost overwhelmed him. Instead, he smiled. “I’m ready. But I want you to be too.”
“I… I am,” she said. “But, kitty, I want you to know me too. It’s selfish, after all this time of me pushing you away, but I want you to know me first. Please.” She stopped, with earnest honesty painted in her expression.
“You know I want to know you more than anything, my Lady.”
“Okay. Well,” she hesitated. “My favourite colour is pink. I live above a bakery. My favourite game is Ultimate Mecha Strike III and I have a huge crush on this boy in my class.” She stopped, looking like she was trying to muster up her courage. Silly, as if Chat wouldn’t love every fibre of her being.
“We’ve met before, actually. Outside of the mask.” Chat’s eyebrows shot up and he suddenly felt this horrible, dawning suspicion that he wasn’t about to lose just one person in his life, but two.
“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
Resounding beeps swelled around the pair as they fell into silence. Chat’s pupils blew wide, and his mouth fell open. An agonised sound tore its way out as he stared down at her and finally, he saw her.
Marinette.
He put all of his weight on his aching knees and the sweaty hand holding onto the baton, and lifted his other hand up, trembling, to touch her cheek. She gasped at the feather-light contact, holding his gaze. Tears welled up as he saw her - her shyness and her openness that was so utterly Marinette.
“Princess.”
Gently, delicately, he folded his hand around the back of her head and drew her in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hot tears spilled out down his cheeks and mixed with the dust and grime on her own face.
God, his misfortune. To find out the love of his life was her - this wonderful, tangible girl - and to lose her all in one go. He felt his body start to shake as he cried, and mourned his own bereavement. She had closed her eyes, forehead still pressed to his face, and a few stray tears escaped.
“Please, Chaton,” she said, voice thick.
“I love you,” he replied.
“God, I love you too, but please, please, give me this one thing. I have to know. I have to know who you are.”
Her miraculous started to beep incessantly and she froze. Her head jerked back and she gave him a look of desperate terror.
“Please.”
Panic started to swell as he realised that, God, this was it, his Lady - Marinette - was about to transform back. She would feel tonnes and tonnes of concrete on top of her - it would crush her. Kill her.
He didn’t give a shit about her knowing his identity anymore. He just wanted her out, wanted her safe, and away. He would gladly take the fall for her. That’s how they worked - yin and yang, push and pull. But he saw the look on her face, like it was her final wish.
“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” His heart beat wildly, and his whole body started to tremble - anxiety, or exhaustion, he wasn’t sure.
“It’s me, Marinette. Adrien Agreste.”
A look of shock so visceral that it seemed near painful flashed across her face.
“Adrien?”
And her mask dissolved in a flash of pink. He watched as her face morphed from Ladybug to Marinette and the world seemed to hold its breath as she shifted from realisation to hot, biting agony.
She screamed.
Her arm crunched in a way that made Chat’s stomach turn. All he could see and all he could hear was her, kind and gentle Marinette, screaming and screaming in unimaginable pain. Sweat poured in rivulets down her face as she went deathly pale. She bit her lip, hard, and blood poured down, down his suit, onto the dusty lifeless ground. A high-pitched keen made its way out of her mouth and Chat found himself crying, sobbing, utterly helpless.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wept, cradling her head to his chest. He could feel her pulse in her forehead, beating so fast that it was as if she were a hummingbird, or a ladybug itself.
He cried as she hyperventilated and trembled so violently that he feared she'd hurt herself even more. Gasps tore from her mouth and slowly, slowly, how - he didn't know - she began to calm down, to retreat back from the brink. He heard her crying softly, occasionally shuddering hard enough to jolt her arm and make a cry burst out.
But she was alive. She was conscious. That fact alone made Chat want to weep harder, God, she was so brave, she was so strong. She was incredible.
And he was about to doom her.
His miraculous pierced the air, beeping incessantly, and he knew. This was it. His baton was the only thing keeping them from being crushed by that monstrous slab of concrete above. It would fall down on their heads and kill them instantly.
"Adrien…"
Chat gasped as he heard Marinette choke the words out against his stomach. The world slowed down as she raised her head to meet his, brow screwed up in overwhelming pain. She hissed, but betrayed no other sign that she had just had an arm shatter.
The beeping crescendoed but everything zeroed in on her, on Marinette. Her face was covered in tears, where her tears didn't reach was caked dust, and her chin was smeared in blood. Her eyes were bloodshot and dilated beyond what should be normal, but they were focused on him. They flickered down, for just a moment.
She was beautiful.
Dizzying clarity made him recall her words - minutes ago, but what felt like years prior. She had said that she had a massive crush on the boy she sat behind in class. She had called him kind, and smart, and considerate. That was… that was him.
She tilted her chin up at him, and he understood. It felt so trivial, in the end. They’d been dancing around each other for years. Yet, here they were, with all of their secrets unravelled in just a few minutes.
He leaned down and kissed her.
There was no fanfare. No fireworks. All he felt was a burning rightness in his heart, and it soothed away the roiling turmoil in his gut.
He pulled back, gently, as his suit began to dissolve, and took in her face for the final time. The sorrow in her expression crumpled as he felt his mask crumble away, and he saw her start to cry again. He could feel Plagg clinging on inside the ring, and watched numbly as his baton began to dissolve into the air.
A loud groan. He felt the awful weight of stone on his back, pushing him down and forwards. The slab overhead fell.
He threw himself over her as the pressure grew and grew and grew, and he was yelling, he thought distantly.
Something huge hit his head, and stars erupted in his mind.
All faded to black.