Chapter Text
She wasn’t at her best.
The worst of her days were better than this.
An hour into their battle, and he hadn’t been thrown across the city once. He hadn’t been tied up with her yo-yo string, nor had she managed to land a single punch on him. And it wasn’t like he’d been trying very hard to avoid them either.
This hellish heat wave must have gotten to her, but really? How could such a smart, brave, and beautiful person let a few days of extreme temperatures make her so vulnerable?
“My Lady.” Chat Noir stopped, yawned ceremonially, and side-glanced at his opponent. “I feel like you’re being paw-fully soft on me today. Have you finally fallen for this feline?”
“You wish,” Ladybug seethed through her teeth and charged his way. “You’ll be the one to fall—”
“Already have.” He winked and smoothly jumped out of her way.
“In a battle! At my hand! To your doom!”
"Awww. You're so cute, my Lady." He dodged easily again. Then, darted right back to her side, took her hand, and planted a kiss on her knuckles. "Just let us make one wish and we'll give you back your earrings. Is that too meow-ch to ask for?"
She snatched her hand back, pushing him away. “You have no idea what kind of—”
"—price a wish comes with?" He rolled his eyes, easily sidestepping her next rather pathetic few attacks. Seriously, what was wrong with her today? His three-year-old nephew was a tougher opponent. Granted, the kid had Kagami Tsurugi for a mother and Félix Graham de Vanily for a father, but still.
“Exactly! You don’t—”
“Yes, I know, I know. You’ve told me multiple times already. I get it. But I’ll be the one paying the price, so what’s it to you and everyone else? You all will be just fine.”
She breathed heavily, grabbing at a nearby chimney. “Do you really think that whatever you two decided to wish for will affect only you? You can’t seriously be that naïve.”
Chat cocked his head to the side. “What’s there to be naïve about? It’s a straight exchange. Nothing complicated.”
Ladybug shook her head, closing her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose, grimacing.
A few deep breaths later, she looked at him with eyes so glassy, Chat wasn't sure she actually saw anything in front of her. "Even if it's a straight exchange like you keep repeating, there is no way to know how it will affect countless others—"
She crumbled to her knees.
Chat held his breath, frowning. “Ladybug?”
“Stay away,” she whispered, grabbing her head and groaning. “Ugh! Don’t—come any…closer or I…”
Something was seriously wrong. He took a cautionary step closer. “Ladybug, is everything—”
“No!” She pushed herself up, froze, and crumbled again.
Into Chat Noir’s arms, this time around.
“Hey!” He shook her slightly. “This isn’t funny. Wake up.”
Not a single muscle in her body moved.
“I’m going to take your earrings if you don’t.”
She remained still.
“Ladybug, I’m serious,” Chat whispered. “At least open your eyes or something. You’re about to lose the reality you’ve fought me for years to keep.”
Her chest rose and fell erratically. At least she breathed. That was a good sign, right?
“Ladybug?”
Dang!
He bit on his lip and looked around, cradling her limp figure to his chest. He could take her earrings and end their perpetual strife this very instant. But! He could leave her be, and they would continue meeting on a battlefield once or twice a week, more often during the holidays. Though, that option would only be possible if Father hadn't sent an akuma to help him out yet.
Chat Noir could lie to his father; an akuma couldn’t.
He squinted his eyes, checking out the farthest and the darkest of corners his sight could reach.
No one was around. Not even a random passerby, which made complete sense: Ladybug and Chat Noir's fights weren't exactly damage-free, and if there was no akuma—which there often was not—there was no lucky charm, meaning that if someone were to get caught in the middle and get hurt, they'd have to go to a hospital, rather than rely on the miracle cure to fix everything. After a few rather nasty cases, civilians had long gotten used to fleeing as far as possible when it was just the two of them, dancing along the Paris skyline.
“Fine, you win,” Chat whispered, carefully picking her up. “But only because there is no fun in defeating you if you make it so easy for me.”
He reached the outskirts of Paris in record time and soon was already climbing into one of those multiple investment properties that had stood empty for years, waiting to rise in value before they could be sold for a hefty profit. They were perfect for sneaking in for a catnap or two when Ladybug wasn't indulging him with her presence, but his father insisted he should be out there searching for an opportunity to take her miraculous, not waste time studying or working.
Breaking and entering, you’d say?
Chat Noir was a villain. Those were the least of his crimes.
“This one has one of the nicest beds.” Chat grinned, kicking the door to the bedroom open. “Fluffy and huge. You’ll love it, my Lady.”
She was still unconscious and breathing heavily when he placed her on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed and a constellation of sweat beads was crowning her forehead. Her body trembled slightly and none of his attempts, including his threats to marry her, had brought her back to reality.
Based on her symptoms, Google said she was probably going to die in an hour or two.
So, a trip to a doctor was probably a good idea. Only, there was no way that Chat Noir, a villain who, together with Hawkmoth, had been threatening the peace of Paris for almost a decade, could bring his unconscious archenemy, the hero of the aforementioned city, to a hospital.
Threatening some random doctor into treating her it was then.
"Give her this medicine three times a day. I already gave something for tonight, so start in the morning." The doctor, whom Chat yanked out of the nearest medical office, offered him a paper with a prescription on it. "She fainted from a mixture of a heat stroke, the virus that's been going around lately, and probably stress."
“Stress?” Chat quirked an eyebrow. “Why would she be stressed?”
The doctor cleared his throat and started to gather his equipment. “She should regain consciousness by the morning, but keep her in bed for at least a few days.”
“Got it.” Chat nodded, handing the man a blindfold. “Put this on. I’ll take you back. And remember, doc: a word of this to anyone, and you’re dead.”
The man scoffed, taking the blindfold. “As if anyone would believe me that you of all people would help her of all people.”
“Why not?” Chat smirked. “I can’t be a villain if my one and only enemy dies on me, now can I?”
“She isn’t the only one who’s capable and hates you, you know. Paris—”
“Sure, sure.” Chat rolled his eyes. “You all may rise against me all you want. I could hardly care less.”
Ladybug was the only one that actually mattered anyway. But a random doctor off the street didn't need to know that.
“Ready?”
The man tightened his blindfold over his eyes and nodded. “I should probably mention that this virus is highly contagious. You might consider wearing a mask and—”
“Already am wearing one.” Chat pointed to the mask over his face. “Now, hurry. I don’t have all day.”
The man sighed, looking like he was about to walk the plank. “Suit yourself. My job was to warn you.”
Neither of them said another word all the way back to the first metro station Chat had spotted. Can’t be a villain if you deliver the man you’d kidnapped back to his office, now can you? A villain would make it inconvenient for their victim and would force them to ride a metro at the time everyone else was getting ready for bed.
And Chat Noir was a villain after all.
A very famous and vicious villain whom all of Paris hated.
He stopped by the nearest grocery store as a civilian to grab some food because, unfortunately, empty investment apartments did not have a stocked fridge, and it looked like Chat Noir would be stuck in there for at least a few days.
Got to make sure his enemy would recover properly to be able to fight him the next time they’d face off.
Ladybug lay in the bed just as motionlessly as when he’d left her there. Her face was still flushed, but her breathing was steadier already. Her fever eased a bit as well.
Kidnapping the doctor was totally worth it.
The clock on the wall showed almost midnight. Not an issue. No one would notice if he didn’t come home tonight, but he’d need an excuse for not showing up for a few days.
“You’re so much trouble,” Chat murmured, heading for the kitchen. “And just so you know, I’m doing this only so you can get better sooner and we can resume our routine. It’s not because I really did fall for you, because I didn’t. Why would I? We’re enemies, right? And all of my confessions were just me trying to distract you. Not the actual truth. Father would skin me alive if I ever—”
Chat paused, swallowing.
That wasn’t true.
Father would never hurt him beyond repair. He needed him alive and healthy for the ritual, or at least that was what Chat had overheard him saying to Nooroo back when all of this had started (not that his father would ever admit to him himself that Chat Noir was a living sacrifice). Still, Father would not be pleased to learn that his son was in love with the girl who held his wife’s potential resurrection in her, well, ears and refused to hand them over.
He’d have to do it eventually, though. He’d have to stop stalling, and he’d have to take those earrings off her ears. But for now…
For now, Chat put the food in the fridge, filled a bowl with water, and picked up a hand towel on his way back to the bedroom.
“The Bastille weekend celebration is in a bit over a week. We’ll have to get you up and running by then.”
She’d probably hate that he watched her sleep. It was creepy, even by his standards.
“It wouldn’t be a holiday without you defeating the big bad villain, now would it?”
She’d abhor that his fingers brushed against her forehead as he was placing the wet towel on her forehead. She’d hate it even if it was done for her good.
“I can even be extra dramatic in my defeat if you want. Give people the show they deserve. How does that sound?”
And she would definitely despise him for holding her hand while he sat by her side all night long, listening to her breathing.
But who cared?
He was a villain anyway and that… that was a crime he’d always dreamed of committing.