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In a way, Ladybug had become a symbol of freedom for Adrien.
Of course, she wasn't the primary source of it, but since his first truly free day she was associated with it. So close was she to the action of it all, he could not stop the flow of adrenaline through his blood when a snatch of red and black caught his eye and suddenly he was floating through those memories when so often he was drowning in others.
The first time he'd ever changed his screen savers, an action shot of Ladybug in all her heroic glory, was the first time he'd mumbled that she would be the death of him.
He certainly didn't mean literally at the time, but isn't funny how life exploits the cruelest of irony.
His puppy-love crush on the scarlett herione had faded over the years, like denim hung to dry in the sun too long. He began to see the more human parts of her. The parts he'd brushed off at first because how could a being so lovely be anything but perfect?
But as the mask he'd sewn to her persona fell away more and more and late night patrols morphed into a time she could break down with a shoulder to cry on, the more his crush returned as something deeper and yearning. He would take a bullet to the head without a second thought if the path was to his Lady.
A part of him never thought the time would come; as much as she was human, he didn't think her capable of error even in the rush of battle.
It was an akuma, of course, what else could rivel the the heros' strength. Hawkmoth had gotten admittedly smarter about his attacks over the years.
His mind is a bit fuzzy at the moment and he can't even remember anything about the attack, just a peice of debris plummeting towards his Lady.
There is no think, there is only do.
He got that one from the many fragments of wisdom Fu dishes out like candy.
He can see her vast blue eyes above him stare in horror at his adomin. He doesn't even need to ask Plagg if he'll be ok- the warm sensation where there should be pain is enough.
Her lips part, about to say something but he shakes his head. It feels like an elephant is sitting on his head and chest.
He calls for Plagg to release him; he has no desire to leave without first being honest with her.
She handles it better than he thought; she swallows her visable panic and whispers what he thinks is his name. Maybe it's shock that forces her to cope with this all and it will hit her later harder than whatever hit him. He hopes not.
Plagg joins the line of fuzzy vision as Ladybug slowly brings him into her arms, tender as if she were moving glass.
Normally the feeling of her hands on him would be enough to send him into a frenzy but all he feels is numb.
He's not sure if the tunnel of light thing is real or not, but he's not taking chances now. He can feel the words on the tip of his tounge, waiting for years to dance in the air.
"Isn't there anything you can do for him?" Something wet falls onto his forehead, snaking it's way though the dirt and grime until it hits the cement.
He sees his kawamii shake his head, green eyes downcast.
The wet drops fall more frequent onto his forehead now and he rationalizes it must be raining until Ladybug's ocean eyes bore into his own green ones.
"It's going to be ok," his hand feels like somebody else's as he cradles her cheek in his warm palm.
A flash of pinkish light illuminates his vision and he's sure this is the end.
A detransformed Ladybug cradles him, arms tightening around his broken form.
Her face is slightly different now, her features more mature. Instead of twin ponytails, a single braid rests over her shoulder. But the eyes are the same vast blue, oceans deep. He hasn't seen this girl since college.
"I've always loved you, even if I didn't realize it, Marrinette"
Damp drops on his shirt are the last thing he's fully aware of and her eyes, so full of grief, are the last thing his own eyes see. His fingers lose their grip on her face and fall limply to the ground, a dull hollow sound resonating as his ring hits the pavement.
What he doesn't see is a girl as broken as the body she cradles sobbing into the night.
He doesn't see the two kawami's lower their heads put of respect, tears leaking from both's eyes.
He doesn't see the long forgotten Akuma turn the corner.
He doesn't feel a finial goodbye kiss pressed against his forehead.
He doesn't see the girl go limp as a rag doll, arms still enveloping his.
He doesn't see the black butterfly float gracefully into the wind from a disgruntled women's sunglasses.
He doesn't see the purple-clad man step around her and say "I've got it from here"
He should be glad he doesn't see the two boxes that take the kawamis' places.
************
There's a graveyard close to their collage, where students used to dare each other to venture through when the moon took its highest peak.
If such a dare where to be issued now, one would not find anything manifested from their nightmares. The curious student might have wandered past two extravagant graves and paused to shine a flashlight beam over the names.
They wouldn't think anything of the etched names still as polished as the day it was put in the ground.
They would most certainly walk right past another grave though, as it was not extravagant or shiny as the others, but it would still have fresh flowers if they went back the next week.
The new heros were ready to arise and succesfully stopped a god-like being, but only identified the bodies as Adrien Agreste and Marrinette Dupin-Cheng, not the once saviors of Paris.
And so they were to be buried seprete at the family's seprete wishes, despite being found arms intertwined.
The heros, known to each other as Alya and Nino outside of costume, sometimes vist their friends.
And so they were apart in living, and are apart in death.
But their souls fly freely to each other.