Ladybug's feet tangled around themselves and caused her to stumble over the rooftop. The toe of one foot collided hard with the heel of the other as she unceremoniously hopped in order to keep her stability.

The sudden weight shift had her colliding hard with the chimney, clipping her shoulder and scraping it against the hard, rough brick. Her hand slapped onto the wall, pushing herself away before clutching her shoulder and carrying on. She had to keep moving.

A red swirl of Ladybug's continued to dance around in the sky, circulating over her head; a promise of revival, a promise of luck, a promise of hope.

Her heart begged for the 'Miraculous Ladybug' to work the way it always did — rebuilding and reforming — as her mind reminded her about what was important. She couldn't stop and check everything was going to plan. Stopping would steal seconds away from her — precious seconds she didn't have.

Paris began to put itself back together; growing and growing as buildings and monuments reposition themselves in their pride of place. Back to being important to the citizens of the city — but right now, none of these were important to her.

She hadn't bothered to stop to check on the victim, or speak to Alya and make her usual statement, as soon as the Lucky Charm was launched high up into the air, she ran – fast, and with intent.

Taking a leap, she pushed herself from the rooftop landing straight onto the next; her feet never truly connected with the ground. She had tunnel vision; a one track in mind.

She skidded to a halt, attempting to gain her bearings. She looked around, not entirely sure where she was.

They'd started the fight in the 6th arrondissement.

A glance down jolted something in her memory as she noticed the boutiques on street level. She recognised them straight away. The one on the corner was where she'd been browsing when the first fireball hit – smashing through the roof as though it was made of paper and causing the building to crumble quickly and efficiently.

The Akuma had moved fast and struck hard — harder than she'd ever seen before — taking them on a tour of the city before she could finally conclude the fight near the Louvre.

She couldn't exactly remember where they were when it happened. The whole event felt like an out of body experience; her heart had become disjointed from her body as the Akuma's hard hitting, soul destroying ray took everything out of her.

Her eyes trailed the buildings in the east. Maybe, that had been the area. It definitely looked familiar – but so did an array of rooftops over Paris. Chimneys, rooftop gardens, walls — all an almost exact duplicate of each other.

Ladybug berated herself. She couldn't remember where it had happened. All she could remember was the feeling of him disintegrating through her fingers as she tried to keep him conscious and with her. A slow, painful death orchestrated with loud, ear piercing screams. She'd held him tight and close; his body finally slipped through her fingers and faded away to nothingness – her own screams taking over the unfortunate symphony.

He had to be here. He had to be somewhere – here . She'd fixed it! That's what she did.

Her eyes began to survey the area again, each breath catching hard in her throat with every beat of her heart. She stretched a hand up, clutching at her throat, at her chest – at anything – in hope it would help her breathe. Her airwaves tightening in reaction to the panic and the pain — labouring her breaths and causing her to claw at her airwards.

The red above her head, abruptly, gave way to blue.

Normality.

An imposter against the storm brewing in her heart.

Her feet began to move again, taking off in a feeble attempt of tracing her steps. The rooftop had to be near here. It just had to be.

Every single step caused a ricochet through her body, the pounding impacting in her head, as much as it was her heart. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her feet tangled like a mess of wires, snaking around each other in a practised and impossible entanglement, tripping her up and causing her to lose balance. Next thing she knew, she was falling. An unexpected twist of cruelty which took her down onto her knees. She fell hard, her hands catching her before her face hit the ground, a droplet of water landing beside her glove, the grief of her loss fully on display for all to see — evidence of her failure.

And the storm finally reached its superlative.

She used her hands to push herself up, but her knees were uncooperative and sent her stumbling forward once again. She dropped back onto the rough surface of the rooftop, her knees agonising from the impact on hard concrete against her skin, a feeling usually foreign when she was in her super suit.

A heavy rattling sob became an echo of melancholy vibrating between rooftops. She couldn't go on anymore. She couldn't. She was done. She couldn't breathe.

The rooftop was suddenly being coated in droplets of her sorrow, tiny pieces of anguish effortlessly falling on the ground without a care for ruining something previously untouched.

"I'm sorry." She let out a sob. "I'm so sorry!"

Laying her head in her open palms, she took the moment to be less than super, to feel everything that came with the grief of losing him, of not being able to save him. The memories she'd thought so little of passed through her mind in a film noir way. Times she should have done more, times she'd chosen to do less, times she'd taken him for granted. She wiggled her fingers wishing she could remember how he felt, his smooth skin and soft hair. But she'd failed. The gloves had always been in her way of really feeling him.

She could hear his voice echoing in her mind, words she longed to hear and would do anything for him to say again. The sweet distant call of him talking to 'his Lady'.

"Kitty," she whimpered, an arm wrapping around her stomach as she held herself tightly. "Kitty!" Her voice was broken, every repeat of the word sounding foreign to herself. Was that really her voice?

"M'Lady."

She heard it again. Chat Noir's voice was clear in her ears, so concise; she was amazed she could remember it so distinctly.

"Oh, Bug." It was there again, this time closer.

He was calling to her.

"Bugaboo, come on!"

She felt something on her hand, grasping it tightly. It felt so real, as did the hot breath on her neck. Almost as if he was here — with her.

Ladybug looked up, straight into the eyes of Chat Noir; her partner crouched down opposite her.

"Are you really here?" she sobbed. "Is it really you?"

A black, clawed hand stretched to her cheek, fitting perfectly against her chin as a cool thumb brushed away the tears gliding effortlessly down her face. He began to shush her, moving closer and using his other hand to claw through her hair.

"Real or not real?" she whispered, Chat Noir once again wiping away the tears on her face. One corner of his lips tugged upwards in that way she adored so much.

"Real. I'm here. I'm back! You saved me."

With a trembling hand, she reached up and stroked over his face, tracing every part she could touch. She dragged her fingers around the edge of his mask, over his nose and cheeks before feeling the contour of his chin. It was all there. He was there. She completed the round once more, etching every single detail into her mind — positive she'd never forget the feeling of him again.

Launching herself into his arms, Ladybug cuddled him tightly, the sobs ripping through her body as her hands moved over his body. Threading in his hair and clawing at his back, before finding a home on his beating heart. The repeated consistency evening out her own.

"You're real!" she repeated, trembling before moving her arms and pulling him in closer. "You were dead!" she whimpered, everything shaking as she cried out the pain. "I felt you die!"

He held her just as tightly, burying his nose into her hair as she continued to shake in his arms. A grasp that didn't ease. Real.

"I'm here! I'm back. You saved me. You always save me."

"You stopped breathing!" she said, gasping for her own breath as she continued to try and crawl into his skin. He was here. Her partner was here and she had never been more grateful for the power of the ladybugs.

She continued to shake in his arms.

He threaded his claws into her hair and gently loosened the ribbons freeing her hair and allowing him to massage her scalp. He placed his forehead against hers, brushing his nose delicately against hers.

"I'm breathing now. I'm here."

He moved forward and placed his lips against the corner of hers; a soft, electrifying kiss, which allowed the feeling of contentment to waterfall from her shoulders and release the tension she'd held so tightly.

The night's curtains began to draw, closing the brightness of day and leaving them with privacy amongst the stars, both interwoven as they soaked themself in the warmth of their love.

"You love me?" Chat Noir whispered into Ladybug's ear. "Real, or not real?"

She pulled away from the hug, her hands clutching his and bringing them to her lips, a delicate kiss placed to each wrist.

"Real."

Time didn't record how long they stayed there, huddled tightly on the rooftop as they found solace in one another. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, even days or months, but it didn't matter, because she was here, safe in his arms. And when she was there, she could finally breathe again.