We had to climb up to the cellar of the warehouse where I had last left Ladybug. Great pillars and chunks of concrete were blocking the tunnels down here, and we had to find a path between them, painstakingly picking our way upwards. It was tempting to use the Cataclysm to disintegrate some of the debris, but I had to save it. I didn't know what was coming.

Still, Rena didn't complain. She was hard-core. Or she had a personal stake in this fight. As it turned out, it was both, but I didn't discover that until we reached the cellar.

Marinette had got there before us. The fog that had been at our backs for hours suddenly came rushing past us, through the fissures in the rock, as if she had summoned it to her.

The cellar was much brighter now, even with the fog, because most of its ceiling had collapsed when Aftershock had toppled the place. In fact, all the higher floors had collapsed too, which made for one vast, cathedral-like structure, surrounded by a skeleton of walls. We were far below ground level, but the sunlight still filtered in from on high, through window-frames made jagged with broken glass.

If the floor had been uneven before, there were now mini-mountains of craggy cement, rearing up between the chasms and pot-holes that led back down to the catacombs. It was difficult to know where to put your feet, because the rubble was loose and sagging in places, as if it was just a thin plug over a bottomless shaft.

Of course, Marinette didn't have to worry about that. She floated above the rubble, alone now except for those free-floating tentacles. And when she called out to us, it sounded so much like her that I almost stepped forwards automatically. I had to swerve and catch Rena to prevent her from doing the same.

But this wasn't like quelling a momentary impulse. She fought me. She was twisting her fingers and clenching her jaw, her eyes fixed on Marinette, and I remembered too late that she had not come face-to-face with her yet. She hadn't seen the injuries--the bare, soot-stained feet and uselessly dangling legs--or felt the sadness coming off of her in waves.

That was when I realized who Rena was. She wanted to go to Marinette so badly, and not to be a zombified minion. Just to comfort her.

"Rena," I said gently. "Rena, stick to the plan. I need you at the end, not yet."

I was half-holding her back and half-holding her up. She was almost sagging with impatience.

"You don't understand," she moaned. "She knows me--she loves me!"

"I know," I said soothingly. "I know who you are now."

"Then you know that she'll listen to me!"

I didn't know that, but I didn't say so.

"I'm sending in Adrien," I replied. "Do you understand the plan now?"

She blinked at me, startled. But at the same time, she stopped struggling against me, and she stood up straight.

"Is it--is it safe?" she asked.

"She would never hurt him."

Rena's mouth twisted. "She would never hurt anybody! But it's not her, is it?"

"Well, it is and it isn't," I said. "I've seen her fighting this. And, if there's the tiniest trace of Marinette still in there, there's no way she'll be able to look at Adrien and think of hate."

"If?" said Rena. "We're gambling civilians' lives on an 'if' now?"

"I'll tell you what I'll do," I said, folding my arms. "Tell me Adrien didn't start this--tell me Adrien didn't cause this--and I'll let you go instead."

She gave me a look that was surly and sheepish at the same time, and I suddenly knew what a friend I had there. She must have been angry with Adrien for everything he'd put Marinette through, but she wasn't going to criticize him to a stranger.

"How do you know so much about it?" she said at last.

"I can't tell you," I said. "But you can't tell me that I'm wrong."

Her shoulders sagged. "Fine. Send in Adrien. But I'll be watching. And if I think it's going wrong, I'm not going to wait until you're dead to intervene."

"Sounds fair," I said, holding out my hand for her to shake. She didn't take it, but I didn't mind.

Was I as confident as I made out? I think I was. It was one of the good things about Marinette idealizing me--one of the good things about having a flawless, angelic, pretty-boy face--I knew she wouldn't be able to look at me without the mask and harbour any negative emotions.

Of course, that wasn't a complete solution, because she was being animated by my negative emotions, but I knew that, if I saw love in her eyes, I wouldn't be able to despair. If someone like Marinette was able to love me, then the world couldn't be all bad.

I left Rena twisting her fingers in the half-collapsed tunnel, and went out to find Adrien. I couldn't let Marinette see him climb up through the floor, from the same tunnels she'd been tracking Cat Noir through.

I climbed up to ground level, transformed, and then spent a few moments trying to remember how to breathe normally.

I put Tikki in my shirt-pocket--Plagg seemed to accept that it would be courteous to offer her the spot with the best view. She was as eager to see Marinette as I was. Plagg settled down in the pocket of my jeans, without any audible complaints.

I found the doorway--that was still standing, though it had turned from a rectangle into a weird parallelogram, and I didn't trust it to stay up for long. From there, I had to climb back down to the cellar-level.

The sunlight was hot on my back, pouring in through the open roof, and I knew Marinette could see me. I wondered if she had recognized me yet. In a weird way, I hoped she hadn't. I wanted to see the reaction in her eyes--Marinette's raw, lovely, impulsive reaction--before Hawkmoth or The End had time to tidy it away. If I could see it, I was sure I'd have a handle on the despair.

In spite of all the devastating consequences, it was actually kind of hard to believe that she loved me, now that I came to this point. What was there to love, except my face? That wouldn't be good enough for someone like Marinette.

I dropped into a pool of sunlight when I reached the rubble of the cellar floor, and could hardly see anything--just a lot of dust-motes swirling around like snowflakes--but I was used to walking around under bright lights. On a catwalk, you really can't see anything except the stage in front of you, and you have to strut around as if you're not half-blind.

It's a confidence thing. You have to trust that you're not going to fall, trust that nothing horrible is going to come flying out of the darkness and attack you.

I'd always found it easy because, my whole life, everyone had been so nice. I hadn't known what kind of horrors to imagine.

It wasn't easy now. I concentrated on my feet, and picked my way over the ridges and chasms in the direction of Marinette, clutching a Miraculous in each hand and hoping that, when I opened them, she wouldn't notice how sweaty my palms were.

I couldn't see her. I tried to persuade myself that this was a good thing. If I looked at her, I would only get distracted, and fall into a pot-hole or something--and I couldn't afford to get injured now. But I hadn't seen her look at me--at Adrien--since I had found out she loved me, and the idea made me incredibly nervous and incredibly excited at the same time.

My resolve held until I heard a wobbly, whispered "Adrien?" And then I had to look, even if it meant getting my retinas scorched.

I lifted my head and tried to make her out through the dazzling light. She was just an outline, but a familiar one--skinny and slumped, with her arms held awkwardly at her sides. Even the silk tentacles seemed to be drooping, as if they didn't know how to be terrifying anymore, because they were suddenly part of a sweet, shy schoolgirl.

I took heart, and edged a little closer, out of the sunlight that had been pinning me down. I knew it would be a while before my eyes adjusted, and I was suddenly more nervous than I had ever been in my life, because that whispered 'Adrien' had been so hopeful--and oh god, it was going to hurt if a hope like that got snatched away from me.

I held out my hands, sweaty palms and all, and showed her the Miraculouses.

"Um. Cat Noir asked me to bring you these. He said you'd know what to do with them." I hesitated, trying to make out that I was having trouble remembering his instructions, instead of having trouble keeping my voice steady. "He said to tell you that everything's been taken care of, and the only thing left for you to do is fly."

I heard a shuddering intake of breath, and then a crash. She had dropped to the floor. Whatever had been making her hover in mid-air suddenly cut out, and of course, she couldn't stand on her broken leg. She landed in the rubble with her legs folded underneath her, her shoulders sagging, her whole frame shuddering with her frantic breaths.

I took half a step towards her, and then hesitated. If she was fighting the akuma, I didn't want to break her concentration. But she looked so helpless that I couldn't help edging closer, kneeling down in the rubble beside her.

The fog was still thick. I was too frightened that she was going to die. She was struggling against the despair at full strength, and there was nothing I could do to help her.

But then she muttered her little, hesitant "A-drien," and I thought of all the times she had stuttered and blushed and garbled her words in front of me. I thought of her getting folded up in my umbrella on the first day of school, and suddenly I felt exactly the same as I had then--tenderly amused and weirdly delighted. Like, when I was with her, I could never be worried that it was all a dream, because she was so beautifully unpredictable.

I guess that was why I had run from her--because she let the world in--but the world wasn't all bad, and even when it was, she was never scared of it.

She sniffed and looked up at me. And there it was. Endless love. I couldn't believe I had missed it.

And now, when I look back on that moment, I don't see the tattered grey dress, or the fog, or her bare, scratched arms--I just see the first time I looked in her eyes and actually knew what I was looking at.

The fog was thinning between us, making her eyes even brighter and bluer. I smiled, and it coaxed a smile from her in return. Her hands were clenched and bloody, but she was smiling.

And then she winced--I suppose Hawkmoth was shouting in her head, half-way between joy and desperation. The thought of what he might be saying made my flesh creep. Was he telling her I didn't really care for her? That I couldn't? That I was only here because I loved her like a sister, and wanted her to be a bridesmaid at mine and Kagami's wedding?

For the longest time, she didn't move. I counted twenty of my heart-beats, but my heart was hammering so fast that that couldn't have taken very long.

Finally, she reached out her hands--both her hands, for both Miraculouses, and I said, "Tiny sidebar--I love you."

She jerked to a halt in the act of reaching. She was stunned. I guess Hawkmoth was stunned too, because she was no longer wincing and shaking her head, as if to dislodge his voice. Her eyes widened--her mouth formed itself into a perfect little 'o'--but I couldn't see any hope there. She looked too tired for hope.

And then a tiny frown creased her forehead, as if she was remembering that I wouldn't lie, not even to save lives.

Oh, she really thought I was perfect. No wonder she hadn't recognized me as Cat Noir.

Her face was so open that I could follow all of this--she really had the best expressions. The next one seemed to take all her energy, but it was, by then, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was Ladybug's determined pout. She folded my hand shut on the Cat Noir Miraculous, and then beckoned with her other hand to one of the silken tentacles. They were stirring fitfully beside her, as if they didn't know what to do. But this one sprang into life as she beckoned, and handed her a little string of coloured beads--the good luck charm I had given her for her birthday, all those months ago. She put it in my other hand--the one that was still open. She brushed against the Ladybug earrings as she did so, but she didn't take them.

Hawkmoth must have resumed his shouting, because her face screwed up in pain and determination. Worse still, the tentacles seemed to realize what was about to happen, because they went wild, scything through the air like scissor-blades. I had to jump back and clench my fist around the lucky charm to prevent them from snatching it out of my hand.

I slipped the Miraculouses into my shirt pocket, next to Tikki, and then frantically looked around for something to smash the lucky charm with. I was desperate enough to use the Cataclysm, but I didn't want to be forced away from Marinette too soon. Even if I saved her from the akuma, someone had to be there to get her to a hospital, and Cat Noir would be faster than Adrien.

There was a fractured cinder-block as big as my fist amongst the rubble, and I picked it up and lifted it above the lucky charm, ready to smash. But a tentacle curled around my wrist and yanked me off balance.

Marinette was shouting something. She tried to stand, but couldn't. She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes and--at the cost of another trickle of blood, this one dripping down from her nose--managed to get the tentacle to release me. Then her eyes snapped open, as if she had heard something I hadn't.

I struggled to my feet, relocated my chunk of cinder-block and raised it over the lucky charm, but she cried out to stop me. "No, wait! Not yet!"

I stared at her. Her eyes were closed in concentration yet again, but none of the tentacles near us were moving.

"I can get him," she muttered. "I can get him."

"What? Who?"

And then I realized. Who would be the epitome of despair in that moment? Who'd had his best chance in years ruined by two love-sick teenagers?

She could find him with the fog. As long as she was still akumatized, she still had that power.

Which would have been fine, if she was in control of all the tentacles. But Hawkmoth was fighting back. Or maybe it was the despair--The End. Maybe it sensed that it was losing its hold on her.

She had sent one tentacle questing after Hawkmoth, but the other ones were stirring, making a sound like angry bees. They started slicing through the air in front of her, as if to warn me off.

And then, in slow motion, I saw one of them rear up and wind itself around her neck.

"No!"

I jumped and ducked over the other tentacles that were scything through the air. One of them caught me in the ribs--with a strength you wouldn't expect from silk--and knocked me back into the rubble, but I rolled upright and tried again, watching for the gaps between the tentacles. My breath was burning in my lungs, my eyes stinging with the familiar sense of helplessness, but I made it through.

I grabbed hold of the tentacle around Marinette's neck and tried to ease it away without hurting her. God, I missed my claws! I was desperate enough to try and bite it with my teeth, but there was no time. Another tentacle curled around my waist and threw me upwards.

And on the crest of that swing--right before gravity pulled me down again--I saw him. He was skidding along the road towards us, stirring up great clouds of dust in his wake. The tentacle was wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to his sides, but I could see his face: that familiar rictus of fury. Those curiously perfect white teeth. There was a crowd outside--the zombified minions of The End--and they parted wordlessly to let him through.

All that was imprinted on my eyeballs as I hurtled down, landing in the rubble beside my fist-sized cinder-block. I knew what a chance we'd be giving up if I grabbed it. But I still grabbed it.

Marinette was blue in the face by now, but she waved an arm at me. She managed to say, between clenched teeth, "Not yet. Almost got 'im."

Rena started forwards from her hiding-place. "I'll get him."

"Rena, stay where you are!" I snapped. "Cat Noir needs you!"

"He's not here," she protested. "I am!"

I gritted my teeth against the rising panic. "Until I'm dead, do as I say!"

Rena stepped back, her hand over her mouth. But I didn't have time to worry about her reaction. I looked at Marinette's face. Her eyes were closed, but she was still shaking her head, whispering, "Not yet, not yet, not yet."

"I am not doing this again," I said.

She waved a frantic hand. She didn't have the breath left to mutter. And then her hand began to waver, as if it was about to sink.

"I am not doing this again!" I shouted.

Her eyes snapped open, as if she had suddenly realized what I was saying, but I paid it no attention. I raised my cinder-block and smashed the lucky charm into little glass fragments. I think I went on smashing it long after the akuma had flown up from the remains--as if I had a grudge against it.

The tentacles dropped lifelessly to the floor. The one around Marinette's neck unravelled as she toppled backwards--but she must have been over one of the potholes that led to the catacombs, because she kept falling, the silk kept unravelling. I started to my feet, but Tikki was quicker. Tikki's restraint had finally snapped. I saw her shoot out of my shirt-pocket in a blur, like a red comet, the Ladybug earrings glinting under her arms.

She disappeared after Marinette.

There were a few heart-pounding moments of silence, as Rena and I watched the akuma beat its wings up to the open ceiling.

I don't think I was worried. I don't think I had the energy left to be worried. This was exactly the sort of moment where Ladybug would pop up, dive in, save the world in some spectacular fashion. I told myself that was what was going to happen, even though I had no idea how it could. I had thrown myself on trust.

But no matter how much I trusted, I wasn't expecting that red and black spotted yo-yo to come shooting out of the depths and capture the akuma with one swing. I wasn't expecting it to wrap itself around a spur of masonry and go taut, as if something was hauling on the other end of it. I wasn't expecting Ladybug to drag herself out of that hole using the yo-yo string--or to drop to her knees and haul it in, opening up the case to release the de-evilized akuma. And I could never have expected that, after all that fog and darkness and blood, a bright white butterfly would emerge from the yo-yo and fly up towards the sunlight.

For a moment, I stared at her, as she knelt among the stones--on a broken leg--and tried to get her breath back. She had never looked as fragile or as awesome before. And she looked back at me and didn't blush.

But then her strength gave out, her eyes slid shut, and she slumped sideways into the rubble.