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Fear.
It was the first emotion that flashed through Marinette’s mind as a loud crack echoed through the air.
Chat Noir’s baton had missed its target, smacking onto the cobble pavement a mere second after Papillon’s latest villain swished out of the way with a laugh that chilled Marinette deep below her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest, thumping against her ribcage as she breathed in, holding it for one second, two—before she zipped out her yo-yo in an attempt to wrap the wire around the akuma’s legs and hopefully bring him down.
Ladybug had no time for fear.
Superheroes were meant to be brave, fast-acting and strong to protect the city and the people they cared about so dearly. Neither she nor Chat Noir had time to feel scared. A moment’s hesitation could mean the loss of a life.
But as her yo-yo whizzed past the villain just a moment too late, Marinette cursed at his speed—that was his power, anyways—and gasped as he charged right for her.
Her heart stopped, a brief spark of fright echoing through her veins, but something (someone?) pushed its way in front of her just before the akuma could strike.
Marinette would have been injured if Chat Noir hadn’t blocked their enemy with his weapon.
Baton swung like a bat, Chat stood his ground, watching as the akuma fell backwards and grumbled with a hand pressed to the side of his head, rubbing it to soothe the sore. His temporary dizziness gave Marinette enough time to rip the pin from his chest—the special item which held a butterfly full of darkness—and purify it before sending it on its way.
It was not the first time that Chat’s baton had deflected a hit meant for her.
With a grateful smile, Marinette turned to her partner, chest heaving as she caught her breath. Battles with akuma weren’t always fun and games, and most of the time she and Chat were left exhausted, limbs begging for rest. Dealing with a villain whose speed had been nearly impossible to match certainly hadn’t helped their aching muscles.
Still, the way she and Chat Noir feel so free afterwards, and how proudly he gazed upon her when it was all over with just a hint of his signature smirk was something she would not give up for the world.
She didn’t have to say anything in acknowledgement, because the way she grinned at him—and how he answered with a smile of his own—was weightier than anything either of them could articulate.
There was no reason to feel fear when she had him by her side.
Concrete scratched at Marinette’s suit as she fell to the floor, dizzied and confused. Her head spun with questions and her vision swam to focus, mind twisting, bangs falling over her eyes like a black curtain that shielded her view from the fight.
She and Chat Noir were up against a villain whose power was shocking those who got in his way.
Did it ever get any easier?
Would she and Chat Noir ever get a break?
Chat Noir-
Where had he gone?
He’d been beside her just a second ago when they’d defended themselves against the harsh beams of stinging light the akuma projected from his hands. They’d danced around the onslaught of his attack, using their weapons to shield the lasers, and then...
Marinette recalled that her yo-yo had been knocked straight out of her grasp.
She had gone for it, but Chat had shouted something-
“Watch out!”
-before knocking her out of the way.
Marinette shook her head to clear her thoughts. That must be how I ended up on the ground. Where’s Ch-
Chat!
Chat Noir had shoved her out of the way before she had been hit, but he- was he okay?
“Chat Noir!” gasped Marinette as she stood abruptly, her scream of his name wrapped in both gratitude and worry as she whipped around in search for her partner. Snatching her yo-yo from the ground, she glanced all around the centre-ville, feeling her heart race in her chest with the beginnings of panic, but- but...
But in the corner of her eye, Chat Noir was brushing himself off, a smile on his face that no other could match. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, meeting his eyes as he winked, his shoulders shaking with a light laugh that filled her to the brim with glee.
“I’m okay!” he called, “go get ‘im!”
It wasn’t the first time Chat Noir had refused a fist bump.
His arms were tight around her, squeezing her in a hug that said more than “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Marinette smiled, weaving her arms around her partner’s neck and resting her head against his collar. She could hear his heart beating a million miles within his chest, his body still fighting off the rush of fear laced adrenaline he’d felt as she threw herself into the attack of another one of Papillon’s villains.
It had been stupid of her, really. As stupid as the time she had jumped straight into a T-rex’s snapping jaws.
She could have gotten hurt easily. Akumas were nothing to bat an eye at.
But she was okay. She was alive, and well, and safe. She was okay.
The prick of claws along her back caused Marinette to squeak, a soft giggle rising from her lips as she pulled away to gaze at her friend; her partner.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, pressing her palm against Chat’s cheek. It was warm, and even through the fabric of her gloves she could tell his skin was so, so soft. “Hey, I’m alright.”
Chat only buried his head within the crook of her neck in response, his voice barely audible as he murmured, “I thought I lost you…”
With the way his arms tightened around her frame, Marinette knew it was only him telling her not to ever scare him like that again.
Marinette hated how Chat Noir considered taking hits as part of his job. Akumas never got easier, and each time his injuries were worse, only adding to the dreams—nightmares—that haunted her in the late hours of the evening when all she desired was sleep.
It wasn’t the first time he had taken the blow to protect her.
He had disappeared from her own two arms.
He had been corrupted by evil and turned dark in front of her own two eyes.
And now-
Now, he was hurt, bleeding red into her own two hands.
Marinette was afraid.
No, fear was not something superheroes were supposed to feel. The bravest of people, what she wanted to be, what Paris expected her to be—did not allow panic to weave under their skin and send their heart to thump against their ribcage. They didn’t think twice, or pause for just a moment to allow their horror to set in.
But Marinette was only human.
She was scared, crying, permitting the salt of her tears to drip down her cheeks and fall from her lips. She was only a kid who was afraid for the life of her friend, her partner, her- her best friend , a friend she couldn’t lose, a friend who was in her arms with blood running down his suit and onto the sidewalk below her knees, and oh-
It was times like this that she was most terrified of the possibility that, somehow, her powers might not put everything back to the way they should be.
“Chat,” Marinette whimpered, voice caught behind the knot in her throat. “Y-you stay - you stay with me, okay?’
How could he have been so stupid?
How could he have jumped straight into the blade of their enemy?
To protect her, she knew, but he still should not have endangered his life for the sake of her own! He had his own life to live, and now…
Now he might not have the chance to live it in its entirety.
As she lifted her gaze from the puddle of red below a body covered in black, her eyes met a familiar striking green that had once shone so bright. Now they were dull, tired, and much to her horror Marinette could practically see the life draining from the eyes that were always so delicate and full of warmth and love.
Tears flowed from her own blue like an unstoppable river.
It hurt to see him like that.
With a weak curve of his lips, Chat gave her a smirk so achingly familiar that Marinette felt as if her heart had been ripped straight out of her chest. He was about to speak, she knew, and the words that she had become so accustomed to were on the tip of his tongue, but…
But she did not want to hear them, in fear they would be his last.
“Go get ‘im,” He whispered, voice cracked and feeble. In his expression, Marinette could see how proud he was simply to have been by her side, to have fought with her against the evils of the world, and deep down within the eyes she had grown to love so much she could see a promise that she would be okay without him.
Somehow, she found that difficult to believe.
“Save that for later,” She murmured, but she knew he could hear her begging, “Stay with me. Don’t you dare give up yet. I need you. Stay.”
The pain of leaving his side was far more excruciating than the akuma’s blade could have ever felt piercing her skin.
With fury burning in her veins, Marinette finished the fight by herself, each kick, each punch and whizz of her yo-yo a screeching threat, daring Papillon to ever so much as lay a finger on her partner again, because if he did—if Chat survived, and he got hurt again —she would have no remorse.
You’ll pay for what you’ve done, her onslaught hissed, weapon thwapping the villain on the side of the head. You will pay for this!
She knew she should have been more gentle, but this monster had endangered the life of her best friend, possibly taken it straight from his hands.
The akumatized victim is not the monster, she reminded herself, chest heaving and breath labored. Papillon is.
Marinette captured the akuma, as always, and wiped a hand down her face. Blood and dirt smeared her cheek but that wasn’t her concern at the moment.
With a shout of “Miraculous Ladybug!” a flurry of pink enveloped the city, repairing the damage done to buildings and, Marinette hoped, its famous black cat as well.
Please let him be okay, she begged to the sky, please, please. Please let him be alright.
As the ladybugs scattered, she turned, expecting the worst—expecting to see the only person she had ever trusted with her life without his own.
But…
But he was up on his feet, hands patting at the spot that had been bloodied moments ago as if he couldn’t believe he was okay. As if he couldn’t believe that he was alive and the wound in his chest was healed.
Chat!
Her heart sang.
Their eyes met, and he ran to her.
They laughed, a sound that felt so right bursting from Marinette’s chest (and far more satisfying compared to the sobs that had threatened to break free earlier.) When they slammed into each other it was anything but unpleasant, and when Chat’s arms wrapped securely around her body, she in turn squeezed him in a hold so strong that he had to ask her to loosen it just a bit lest she suffocate him.
The relief was so numbing that Marinette swore she was about to collapse to her knees.
The feel of Chat Noir’s fingers tangling in her hair made her sigh, tears of joy leaking from her eyes and dampening the fabric of her partner’s suit. She could feel him trembling, shaking within her arms, and she wasn’t sure if he was laughing or crying—maybe both?
Either was understandable.
“Never leave me, ever,” Marinette demanded, tightening her grip on him for a just a moment. Chat gave a grunt, a chuckle vibrating against her cheek as he patted her back and rested his head atop her own, messy blond strands tickling her forehead.
After everything was over and they had both calmed down, all Marinette wanted to do was take a long bath and sleep.
They both tore away from the hug with reluctance, but there would be plenty more in the future.
“Bien joué,” Chat murmured after a moment, holding his fist up in an offering.
Marinette shook her head, a soft, tired laugh rising from her lips as she replied, “Bien joué.”
Even she could not hide the undertones of “I love you.”
They simply stared at each other for a minute, two, three, catching their breath and calming their nerves after a fight that could have ended in an entirely different way. An entirely, horribly different way.
Yet it didn’t.
And Marinette would make sure it never got that close ever again.
Cupping Chat’s cheeks within her hands (which had once been stained a terrible red) she sniffled, running her thumbs along his skin. Never before had she wished so badly to take her gloves off. She wanted to feel him, to know he was real and still there .
But with the way his fingers wrapped around her wrist, holding her so gently, she knew he was all too real.
He was there, as he always would be within her heart.
Without a second thought, Marinette leaned in and pressed her lips to his, allowing her heavy eyes to slide closed as she relished in the feeling of kissing the person that meant the most to her. A soft mewl of surprise came from the blond boy she held, and a second later he was completely wrapped up within the bliss of his Lady, kissing her and holding her and loving her just as much as she loved him.
“My Lady,” Chat whispered, voice nothing more than a breath against her lips.
Yes, Marinette affirmed, your Lady.
His kisses were soft and salty with the mix of their tears, and their skin and suits were covered in dirt, but she didn’t mind in the slightest. She was happy standing there with him. He kissed her back with movements so gentle that she never, ever wanted to pull away.
Marinette knew right then that this was something she wanted more of; she wanted to kiss him every time they saved the city and each other.
Chat Noir smiled against her lips, and as they both laughed, it was a fervent promise that every single day following would end like this. After every victory, after every triumph and perhaps even after every patrol, instead of a fist-bump, they would share a loving kiss.
(But purr ferably without one of them almost dying.)