Chapter Text
The first time Marinette dies, it’s raining.
It’s also late – nearly three in the morning – and they’d been fighting the same akuma since midnight. She’s exhausted, and Ladybug across the way sags behind a chimney to catch his breath a moment. Her ears flatten against her head instinctively when the akuma roars, tail winding around her leg. They can’t keep it up much longer.
When she peeks over the top of the vent she’s crouched behind, she can see the akuma a few rooftops away. He’s deceptively scrawny for all the damage he’s wrought in the past few hours. He’s not as much of a talker as other akumas, but from what she’s managed to gather, he’s furious for being forced out of the gym at closing time, insisting he needs to be stronger.
Marinette does her very best to make sure she doesn’t blame the victims, because, of course, it’s not really their fault some maniacal terrorist takes their emotions and warps them into something awful.
Sometimes it’s hard to hang onto that attitude, though.
She makes eye contact with Ladybug across the way. He shakes his yo-yo in a way that indicates Lucky charm? without her even being able to read his lips through the sheets of rain. She nods back to him. It’ll be the second Lucky Charm tonight, and she’s already used four Cataclysms. Plagg had not been happy the last time she needed him to recharge.
She takes a slow, steady breath, fighting off the fatigue seeping into her bones. Then, with a final decisive nod to her partner, she bolts from her hiding spot, smacking her baton into the vent as she goes with a cry, yanking the akuma’s attention over to her. She’s normally hard to spot in her all black outfit, but she’s making plenty of noise, batting into things as she runs and grunting as she leaps over rooftops.
“Gymfreak need Miraculous!” the akuma howls, effortlessly ripping out part of a fire escape to hurl at her. She curses and drops to a slide, the metal sailing over her head so fast she can hear the air displace around it. It smashes somewhere behind her, but she’s already on her feet running again.
“Lucky charm!” she hears faintly over her own thundering heart and the now torrential downpour. She picks up her pace, determined to give Ladybug the space he needs to concoct a plan. Another roar, another awful crunch, and she ducks into a roll, the top portion of a lamppost missing her narrowly. The roof she’s sprinting across is slippery, and she barely keeps her feet under her, quickly summoning and using her Cataclysm for the next piece of metal Gymfreak hurls at her. She’d have preferred to keep that on hand, but not being reduced to smear on the roof was more pressing.
“Chat!”
She skids to a stop, water sloshing around her feet to wheel around. Ladybug is holding, blessedly, what looks to be a long, spotted chain. Maybe the Lucky Charm had learned its lesson about the supremely unhelpful water bottle it supplied earlier.
Ladybug gives a grin she can see from a distance. “Let’s wrap this up, shall we, Minou?”
Despite the awful nickname, she can’t but grin back, leaping up and twisting over the top of Gymfreak while he fruitlessly takes a swipe at her. She sloshes to a stop one rooftop away from Ladybug, catching the end of the chain he tosses.
“On my mark,” he calls. “Ready…”
Gymfreak doesn’t wait, lunging forward, arms outstretched to grab at Ladybug. Marinette’s instincts flare, and she yanks Ladybug out of the way as hard as she can, so hard he whips by her entirely to the next rooftop with a yelp, skidding to his knees.
Following his path instead of keeping her eye on the akuma turns out to be possibly the worst mistake of her sixteen years of life.
Before she can even turn her head back fully, Gymfreak is on her. His hands, pressed together to make one sturdy fist, bear down on the top of her head so hard that in the fleeting moment of consciousness she has, she can hear the horrific crunch.
She hopes Ladybug doesn’t hear.
It hurts and then it doesn’t and then it does again, her eyes flying open to a pink haze. She blinks hard, her eyes adjusting slowly, and she doesn’t realize her hearing was gone until it comes back. There’s a sharp pain behind her eyes, almost blinding in its intensity.
“ –at? Chat? Mari? Can you hear me?” Adrien never calls her by her name in the suit. Something must be bad.
She tries to say something, assure him she’s fine, ask if he’s okay, but it just comes out a strange, thick grunt.
It seems to be enough for Adrien, who practically deflates over her, his breathing shuddering. Crying. Why is he crying?
It’s raining. Still raining. Like when they were fighting Gymfreak.
Marinette jolts upright, fingers digging hard into Adrien’s shoulder as he supports her.
“The ‘kuma,” she manages, throaty and awful but intelligible.
“I got him, Chat, don’t worry,” Adrien reassures.
“Got him,” Marinette repeats, her shoulders slumping with relief. “I… what happened?”
“Christ,” Adrien breathes, dipping forward to bump his head into hers. “Christ, Marinette.”
His use of her full name along is enough to alert her that it was bad.
“He hit me,” she remembers suddenly, her voice coming out much smaller and younger than she wants. Her hand lifts to touch the crown of her head gently, like the wound is still there. Her head throbs like it is.
“Yeah,” Adrien croaks. “Yeah, he hit you. Right on top of your head. It was – Marinette…” The miserable way his voice trails off makes her arms work to feebly wrap around him. He’s shivering beneath her arms, even in the warm summer rain.
She beeps first.
“Bug,” she murmurs. “We gotta go.”
“You’re coming over,” he says, the words too desperate to be a command, but too sure to be a question.
She doesn’t think she could even find her own house right now. “Alright.”
Ladybug rises, partner cradled in his arms. Any other time she’d complain, demand he set her down, but she’s still so dizzy and her head throbs so fiercely that for once she just lets her head droop to press against his shoulder. The rain has settled to a drizzle.
“Don’t worry, Minou,” Adrien says softly. “We’ll be home soon.”
Home sounds nice, Marinette thinks faintly, head pounding and body aching. Even as Ladybug does his best to keep his movements gentle, every little jostle sends sharp pain shooting from the top of her head all the way down her spine. She fights hard to keep any noises from escaping. No need to worry him.
When they get to the bakery, she doesn’t even have to watch the way he toes open the hatch, hearing the little snick that’s become so important to her. Just the little sound makes the throbbing in her head lessen. They drop down carefully. Adrien’s parents will be up soon.
“Eyes closed,” he warns, setting her on the chaise. “Spots off.”
Marinette does close her eyes, the pink still flaring brightly enough to sting. “Claws off,” she whispers, the green of her own transformation seeming duller than usual. Without the transformation to bolster her, she lists to the side and almost topples over. Adrien’s arms – strong, warm, dependable – catch her and ease her back until she’s lying down.
“Oh, Marinette.” Tikki sounds fretful, and her little paws press against Marinette’s cheek.
“Shit, kid,” Plagg says, sounding exhausted. She pries her eyes open to look at him, mustering her strength to hold out her hand. He flits to it more attentively than usual, staring up at her with glowing eyes. “You alright?”
“Head hurts,” she mumbles, letting her eyes slide closed again.
“No shit,” Plagg sighs. She feels him curl up in her hand and lets it drop to rest on her stomach. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. She must look awful. He only calls her that when she really feels terrible.
“Mari,” Adrien murmurs. She could kiss him just for keeping his voice down. “I’m gonna get you some water and some painkillers. Okay? I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Marinette breathes back. Talking was too much effort. She’s outrageously grateful her pajamas stayed dry, because there’s no way she could muster the energy to change them.
She doesn’t hear him come back, but suddenly Adrien’s there, pressing a straw to her lips and coaxing her to drink. When she cracks her eyes open again, there’s an intense look on his face. His eyes keep flitting around, taking her in, like he’s never seen her before. When he catches her eye, he gives her a wobbly smile. It looks painful.
“Bug,” she says, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. “He… in the head. I know he did. And he was so strong.”
The smile slides off his face. She thought the smile was painful, but whatever this is is much worse. “Marinette…”
“Did I…?” Marinette can’t bring herself to spit it out.
Adrien stares at her. He doesn’t blink, but his lip trembles for a moment before stopping. She watches him blink back tears. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. Seeing his face is enough. It feels awful to look at.
“Oh,” Marinette whispers.
“Only for a minute,” he says. He reaches up and brushes her hair from her face. His hand is warm and soothing. “Just one.”
Marinette’s not sure who he’s reassuring.
He has to help her back up to bed. Her limbs feel like jelly.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Plagg says. “Tikki’s magic isn’t a perfect fix for us. The chaos can’t be fully ordered.”
Marinette hums an acknowledgement. Tikki appears with pills in her little hands, looking as apologetic as Marinette’s ever seen.
“Don’t forget these,” she says sweetly. Adrien helps her take them, and if she wasn’t feeling completely wrung out, she might be embarrassed. But her head her too much and Adrien was so careful and so sweet that she accepts the help.
“School tomorrow,” Marinette murmurs.
“I’ll let you sleep as late as you can, Minou,” Adrien whispers, curling around her.
Before she can reply, she slips into a deep sleep.
The sleep she got, measly few hours that it was, does wonders for her. Instead of feeling like she’s been yanked out of the jaws of death, she feels merely exhausted. Adrien frets over her the whole walk to school, his eyes glued to her face still, and she tries not to get frustrated with his hovering. She can’t even imagine how she’d feel if their roles were reversed.
So, she lets Adrien fuss and hold the doors and keep her arm tucked in the crook of his. If it makes him feel better. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel a little better as well. Her headache hasn’t faded, even with the next dose of painkillers, and her balance still feels wobbly. His support is comforting.
At school the next day, everyone’s talking about the fight. How people even managed to see it in the dark, through the rain, at three in the morning is beyond Marinette’s comprehension. If she hadn’t had to be there, she definitely would’ve been in bed, asleep.
No one else seems to share her compunction. The class is abuzz with speculation when they arrive. Adrien carefully deposits Marinette in her desk next to Alya, who turns from Nino in a flash.
“Girl! I’ve been texting you all night,” she cries, leaning in hard to Marinette.
Marinette winces, her head pounding. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I – headache. Bad one.”
Alya blinks then looks at Marinette like she’s just seeing her. “Oh wow. You look, uh, rough. Are you sure it’s not like a migraine or something?”
Marinette shrugs carefully. “I don’t know, but I was out of commission, like, all night.”
Alya frowns sympathetically, patting Marinette’s hand. A bizarre thought flashes through Marinette’s head, that she’d never get to see Alya again, never have her pat her hand or grin at her secretively or gush about Ladybug and Chat Noir. It makes her dizzy enough that she almost doesn’t hear Alya speak again.
“–you feel better, girl. So, you didn’t hear about the akuma last night?”
“Um,” Marinette flounders for a moment, making fleeting eye contact with Adrien for just a moment. “I heard about it, uh, walking to school today. From… people,” she gestures vaguely, feeling foolish, but Alya nods vigorously.
“Everyone’s been talking about it,” Alya says sagely. “I couldn’t get any footage directly, but someone else did. Here, it’s on the blog.” She whips out her phone and has the Ladyblog pulled up with the video in a matter of seconds.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea,” Adrien blurts, wilting a little when Alya swivels her head around to balk at him. He flusters as he goes to speak again. “I just mean, with Mari’s headache and all. The screens might… be too much,” he says carefully.
The screens, Marinette thinks, aren’t the problem.
Alya actually hesitates, looking over at Marinette. “You can always watch it later,” she offers.
“No,” Marinette says suddenly. She can barely remember the incident at all, the events immediately before and after totally hazy. She wants to know what happens. She deserves to know what Adrien had to see. “No, I’ll look.”
“Mari,” Adrien murmurs gently, but he sighs when Marinette looks at him. He knows better than to try and change her mind.
“Okay,” Alya says eagerly. She hits play on the video, turning the volume up a little. The screen does, actually, hurt Marinette’s eyes a little, and she squints to lessen the ache.
Alya cuts her eyes over, seeing the strain, and says, “Here, let’s just skip to the important bit.” She taps to near the end of the battle.
The rain is coming down so thick that it’s difficult to see. The bright red areas of Ladybug’s suit make him identifiable, but Chat – she – barely appears at all. She doesn’t hear herself call Catalcysm, but she sees it flash, illuminating her for a moment. Ladybug’s Lucky Charm call is barely audible, and the bright flash that accompanies it knocks the white balance of the shot off for a few seconds. By the time it refocuses, Ladybug’s tossing Chat the end of the chain.
Adrien suddenly turns away, facing the front of the classroom, back ramrod stiff. Uneasiness churns in Marinette’s gut.
She watches her past self yank Adrien clear past her, foolishly watching after him. Gymfreak moves unbelievably fast, his hands rearing back and –
The camera shakes violently, and for the first time the person filming speaks. “Holy shit. Holy shit. He just smashed Chat Noir’s head open. Fuck. Oh my god. She’s… fuck.” He sounds older than her, but not by much. His voice trembles hard, and he fumbles to set his camera firm again. Even before he does, Marinette’s hair stands on end.
“Chat!” Ladybug’s cry, Adrien’s cry, makes bile rise up in Marinette’s throat. It’s awful. Awful. She’d rather rip her ears out than hear it.
The camera steadies, the cameraman’s breathing still heavy and audible, and Marinette can only spare a blinding moment of relief that her form is much too dark to see on film. She thinks she might pass out if she sees her own brain spread across the roof.
Ladybug wraps up the fight in what feels like moments. A hoarse cry unlike any she’s ever heard from him echoes across the rooftops and Gymfreak is completely entangled in chains in seconds. Ladybug lunges to rip off the sweatband from his head and rips it savagely apart. He snatches the akuma, purifies it, and unravels the chain to heave it up as fast as he can.
The light washes over the rooftops, fixing all the damage, and Ladybug skitters over to Chat’s still prone form. She watches him hunch over her, hands flitting from her hips, her face, her shoulders, her forearms, with increasing desperation. She knows the moment she must have made him aware she was alive by the way he goes nearly boneless over her. The rest of the video is just – them. Holding each other. Until Ladybug stands up with Chat in his arms and bounds away.
There’s a brief moment in the last few seconds when the cameraman turns the camera on himself, looking deeply shaken. He was young, maybe a year older than her and Adrien, and her stomach churns to see the tears in his eyes. “I think she was okay,” he says uncertainly, and the video cuts out.
Marinette closes her eyes to keep from crying, pressing a hand to her lids to rub vigorously. She feels fingers ghost across her forearm on the desk and knows they’re Adrien’s.
“Marinette?” Alya’s voice is concerned.
She swallows the lump in her throat. Tears in her eyes she can excuse. The gulping, heaving sob clawing its way out of her lungs, less so. “I’m alright. Adrien was right.”
His hand tightens around her forearm, thumb stroking carefully.
“Screens were too much, huh?” Alya says soothingly, rubbing a hand down her back.
“Yeah,” Marinette breathes. “Too much.”
The speculation doesn’t stop for days. Marinette’s headache slowly starts to fade, Plagg goes back to being the cranky bastard he is, and Adrien doesn’t look at her like she’s going to die in front of his eyes.
(Again, that weird part of her brain whispers. It’s been consistent since Gymfreak. But she’s fine.)
The media speculation doesn’t stop.
She doesn’t watch the video again, but the tweets, the talk shows, the youtube theories, all of it just keeps going. If she’s really alive, if she’s okay, if she’ll be retired, if her miraculous didn’t work right, if, if, if. It’s… grating.
“We could just patrol a little while,” she whines, flopping into Adrien’s lap. He smiles down at her patiently. It makes her want to cram a pillow in his face, so she does.
“Is your headache gone?” he laughs, accepting the abuse.
She scowls. “Akumas won’t care if I have a headache.”
“They sure won’t,” he says cheerfully, bopping her on the nose like he does in the suit sometimes. It makes her wrinkle her nose all the same. “But I care. And there’s no sense in unnecessarily making it worse. Just give it a few more days, Minou, and you’ll be right as rain.”
Marinette grumbles. “Why don’t you listen to people call you brain-dead for a few days, then we’ll see how you feel.”
“I’m dating you, aren’t I?” he replies cheerfully, laughing harder when Marinette doubles down on the pillow cramming.
The akuma comes two days later. Marinette has to slip out of the Manor window while Nathalie’s not looking, which takes a few minutes more than she’d like. When she gets there, Ladybug’s already on the scene.
He grins at her. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he says loudly. She can hear the gasps of people in the street; some even start cheering for her. She has eyes only for her bright, dumb bug.
“Couldn’t leave you hanging, Bugaboo,” she drawls, flicking her baton out, grinning right back. “Ready to kick some ass?”
“Why, Chat Noir,” Adrien says, and it warms her down to her bones. “I would be delighted.”