((CW: blood, guns, gunshots/wounds))

She didn't blame him. Not really.

He was drunk, which was less than ideal for everyone's sake that night. If anything, Ladybug was glad that it was her that took the bullet and not anyone else in Paris.

The literal bullet.

The sound of the bullet exploding out of its muzzle in his hand sobered him up enough to realize what he'd done, only a second too late.

The bar patrons, who were still smirking from watching this middle-aged man get escorted out of the bar for having one-too-many, were now slack-jawed. All conversation halted when the gunshot was heard, but breaths were held when they saw who the gun was pointed at.

Ladybug had heard the commotion of the man exiting onto the sidewalk; drunken, angry garble spilling from his mouth. After security left him, leaving him unsteady on the street corner, he attempted to stumble his way back to the door.

On patrol, Ladybug swung in front of him, arms up, eyes kind. "Hey, why don't I help you get home, sir? Can I call you a cab?" she offered.

Non-Akuma problems were usually easy enough. Cats stuck in trees, lost kids at the playground, that sort of stuff mixed with the very occasional robbery, was a piece of cake compared to 10 story tall stone giants and Sentimonsters.

This wasn't atypical from other nights on patrol. Until it was.

The man doesn't reply right away, keeping a steady shuffle towards the door of the bar. "Sir, it's pretty late. Let's get you home," she says a bit more firmly, keeping herself between the man and the door.

He shakes his head, "I wanst fi-finished yet," he grunts, not looking at her as he tries to shuffle around her.

His delayed reflexes are easy to keep up with at least. Ladybug easily blocks him, urging him to stop. "I think the manager here has other ideas" she tries to joke, to keep the conversation light-hearted despite his deepening brow. "Which way do you live?"

He blinked slowly, "M-yy, mmy hat," he slurs, pointing to the bar, "in-nsidee-"

She took a quick glance at the door, "You forgot your hat in there?" she raises an eyebrow.

She watched his mind process her words then nod sluggishly, sticking his hand in his pocket.

Ladybug nodded in response, "Okay, just stay out here for one minute and I'll get your hat. Then we'll get you home. Deal?" she negotiated.

The same delayed reaction.

"Okay. I'll be right back" she smiled warmly, then turned her back to him to go inside.

Then there was the explosion of the gun going off, cracking the air around them. Followed all too soon by the feeling that she'd been shoved, or poked forcefully from behind. She stumbled forward a half-step. Her right-hand flies to her back where pain is spreading from the supposed impact of whatever this man did to her.

She tries to hold her grimace back when she turns back around to face him, opening her mouth to scold, but the glint of the gun in the street lights makes her head spin before she can get any words out.

Dumbfounded, she pulled her hand away from her back, taking in the glossy maroon that has covered her normally bright red-suited fingers.

She felt like she was moving in slow motion, or the world around her had been sped up.

The bar door bursts open behind her, a few people rushing around her to incapacitate the shooter, who seemed frozen until someone yanked the gun from his hand. His wide eyes blink soberly, locking with Ladybug's.

She can't look away. The true pain of her injury forces its way through her initial shock.

Burning. A searing heat burns through her core, radiating outwards in pulsing waves. Her hands pressed against the entrance and exit point of the bullet instinctively, just now realizing that blood was seeping down the front of her suit as well.

She almost doesn't notice the half dozen hands easing her down onto the sidewalk. On her knees, concerned faces tower above her, all unsure of what to do. Voices ask her what they can do to help, one voice seems to be on the phone with paramedics, another telling police their location.

But one voice cuts through this cacophony.

"What's going on here? Is everyone alright?"

Hidden by a wall of people, she musters enough strength to yelp out "C-Chat-" his name scrapes along her dry throat, adding to the spreading fire inside her. Even the subtle movements involved in speaking cause her wound to burn; her fingers unable to hold the sticky warmth inside her.

It seems almost instantaneous that her personal wall of people is dissipated by Chat. It's almost as instantaneous as the way his face changes from hopeful to horrified. Silhouetted against a streetlight, Ladybug can't tell the full extent to which his face contorted in pain and confusion. This only worsens when her weak, ironic, smile falls back into a grimace.

He swears he's had a nightmare just like this. It's THE nightmare that usually plays out the nights after particularly close fights. Sure, in Akuma fights they'd sustained a few rare cuts and scrapes that were always healed up by the Miraculous Cure. But now there's no Lucky Charm.

And he's never seen this much blood before.

She always scolded him for taking hits for her, for being overprotective when he fully understood that she didn't need it. He can't help himself. He'd never admitted it out loud, because he knew it'd make her uncomfortable, but long ago he swore in his heart that he would die for her if required. To him, it was impossible to think that the world could simply go on spinning if Ladybug did not walk its surface or breathe its air.

He wasn't sure if the world deserved her, but she deserved the world.

But right now, his love was growing pale under the indifferent, buzzing, streetlights.

Ladybug reaches up to him with a bloodied hand, barely extending it past her chin before Chat takes the hint.

As if she were made of porcelain, he carefully scoops her up into his arms; careful not to twist or put pressure on her unnecessarily. Once up, he easily holds her with one arm while the other grabs his baton. The crowd doesn't say a word as Chat smoothly extends his baton to get them off the street and going in the direction of the hospital.

Once a few blocks away, Ladybug taps his shoulder to stop. When he doesn't, she grunts softly, more urgently motioning for him to stop.

He lays her out on the next flat roof, her head elevated on his knee. Her right side is almost completely blood-soaked now and he can tell her breathing is labored. "We need to get you to the hospital," he says, keeping his tone as level as he can manage and failing. He knows she's trying to stay strong, show a brave face, because that's who she is. But that also tended to make her unreliable when it came to situations when she truly required help.

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head ever so slightly, "I can't go to the hospital" she takes a deep breath, readying herself to say something she'd obviously thought about in case something like this ever happened, "Either I g-go as Ladybug and my transfo-rrmation drops and I'm revealed, or I go as my c-civilian self and my parents and the rest of the ci-city draw its own conclusions after the headlines read 'Ladybug Shot On The East Side Last Night'" she grits her teeth and takes several short breaths.

He knows she's right, she usually is, but he shakes his head, "I- we can't trade your identity for your life. We can deal with your identity getting out after we ensure you even live to see the repercussions" he scolds, not angrily, just frustrated.

Every day, every Akuma fight, he knows could be either of their last; whether their Miraculous get taken or something far worse. And right now he's staring at 'far worse' and she's shaking her head 'no'.

"Tikki- my Kwami, Miraculous Healing, she'll just heal me" she tries to give a reassuring smile but knows it's not giving the effect she intended, knowing it's been twisted by the pain.

"Are Kwamis even able to heal something this serious?"

She hopes so. "I don't know. I-I need to change back soon anyway. Close your eyes."

He shuts his eyes just as a bright flash illuminates the other side of his eyelids.

As her costume melts away, the pain gets worse, much worse. Obviously being Ladybug was already helping her out in some way at least. She groans in distress; Chat almost breaks the rules when she screams out, wanting to comfort her. His hands blindly cradle her head and hold her still.

Ignoring the black spots in her vision, Marinette directly addresses Tikki, "Can you fix this?" she pleads as much as asks.

She nods, obviously scared for her Chosen, "Yes, I can heal you but it will take time and I need to be fully recharged to even start on something like this. It won't be painless either. Chat, you have to find me food"

Torn, he retorts, "But I can't leave her"

"You must." She says as sternly as her small squeaky voice allows. "I need sweet foods to recharge. Once I'm good, I can turn her back into Ladybug and start properly healing her. Go!"

Eyes still closed, he releases 'Ladybug' to stand up. "I'll be as fast as I can, Ladybug" he turns 180 degrees before opening his eyes and jumping down to the streets.

He locates the nearest corner store and detransforms before entering.

The fluorescent bulbs create an atmosphere that's hazy, almost forming a liminal space with how few people are here. Just him, the cashier, and another man checking out.

Keeping his head down, he grabs fistfuls of whatever candy bar his fingers touch first, hoping Tikki isn't picky. He then hastens to the next aisle to grab a roll of cloth bandages. He rounds the aisle to the checkout counter where the same man is still deciding which lottery ticket to buy.

Adrien's foot taps impatiently, having half a mind to just run from the store without paying. Plagg pokes his head out of his pocket, snacking on a slice of camembert, "Stop shaking, waiting one minute isn't going to be detrimental."

He keeps his eyes straight ahead, speaking low, "Will this work?"

Plagg nods seriously, "Tikki is Ladybug's best chance at this point; she is Creation, after all. She has the strongest healing abilities of any Kwami"

"Has anything like this happened before? Anything this bad?"

Plagg's eyes look off to the side, "Uh, nothing exactly like this. Let's just say I've seen Chosen in better and worse situations..."

The man ahead of them finally finishes and Adrien rushes forward, dumping his armful of candy onto the counter. "How much?" he asks a bit too soon.

The cashier, a middle-aged woman, gives him a look saying 'hold your horses, mister', before continuing to scan each item at a leisurely pace.

He feels like he's about to jump out of his skin by the time the total shows in green LCDs. "That'll be 21-" she starts but Adrien has already thrown 30 euros on the counter.

"Keep the change! Thanks!" he blurts out, grabbing the shopping bag of candy and sprinting out the door without looking back. "Claws out!" he demands as soon as he's in shadow, vaulting back up to the unsuspecting roof where his lady is.

With his eyes focused on the ground of the roof, he holds out the bag for Tikki, "Hope you like nougat,"

Tikki doesn't reply, only diving headfirst into the bag to get started, also in a rush to get back to her Chosen.

Chat closes his eyes before returning to his spot next to 'Ladybug', kneeling down and feeling around for her hand, "Still with us?"

Marinette is glad he can't see her right now. Not just to keep her identity safe, but also because she's in a pretty gruesome looking state. Her white shirt is soaked red, front and back, not sure if it makes the situation look worse than it is, or exactly how it really is: dire.

He finds her sticky hand, curling his fingers around hers, squeezing when she doesn't answer right away, "M'lady?"

She puts all her remaining strength into squeezing his hand back, which is meager given most of her remaining physical and mental abilities were focused on keeping herself from passing out. The combination of the blood loss and the burning pain putting her in a losing battle. The world is slipping away, resembling the view of looking through the wrong end of a telescope.

Even with his eyes closed, the intense worry was plainly etched into every muscle of this face.

A small rush of air ruffles his hair. "Say 'Spots on' now," Tikki instructs clearly, worried about the faraway look in Marinette's eyes, "Say it!" her voice breaks.

But her anxious demands are muffled and echo down the dark tunnel forming around Marinette's vision. She knows what this is, she's experienced it before. 2nd-grade talent show. The combination of nerves and no breakfast left her passed out on the stage floor only ten seconds into her ballet routine. But that was nothing a little fresh air and grape juice couldn't fix at that time.

This was going to take a lot more to come back from.

Chat feels her losing grip on his hand and his heart drops into his stomach. Without thinking, he holds her hand tighter and leans over her, finding her cheek with his other hand, "Come on!" he urges, "You've got to change back! Can you hear me?"

He focuses on the sound of her slow breathing as his only current indication that she's alive. He has to force his eyes to stay shut, no matter how much he wants to see her beautiful blue eyes 'one last time', his mind mocks him. No, she'll get through this and he'll have all the time in the world to see those eyes, he has to believe.

"Come on," he begs, "I need you. We need you to be Ladybug. You have to transform, you have to,"

His cool hand on her cheek and his fingers wrapped tightly around hers, anchoring her, like a towline leading her to shore. His words become more clear as she fights the darkness back. The image of Chat hanging his head over her comes into focus. Fighting the numbness of her mind, she whispers "S-spots on,"

As if the light of her transformation banishes the darkness away, Ladybug snaps back to full consciousness. Her lungs ache as she reflexively gasps.

Chat's own eyes fly open as soon as he feels her suit cover her fingers. He chokes out a relieved sigh, knowing this is far from over but it's a start back on the right path. "Hey," he says comfortingly, "had me worried for a sec there,"

The corner of her mouth turns up slightly, "Me too," still aware of new blood starting to seep its way through her Ladybug suit. "Leave me here. I'll be fine by morning" she tries to convince him as much as herself. She doesn't know how long it will be until she can even stand up, let alone swing home. Either way, she doesn't want him to have to see her like this: in pain. Or maybe deep down, she doesn't want him to have to witness her losing her grip on life, and what comes after.

"I can't leave you," he says more firmly than before when he was arguing with Tikki. Unless Tikki or Ladybug really need something, he's not going anywhere.

She softly rolls her eyes, "I'll be okay, Chat. I just need time."

"You know I want to respect your wishes, M'lady, but I don't think I can listen to you on this one." He reaches back and sifts through the dozen or so candy wrappers in the shopping bag to find the cloth bandage. Carefully, he lifts her head to rest on his thigh, using this angle to wrap the bandage around her waist a few times.

She grits her teeth and tries to hide her wince as he does this, knowing it's probably for the best. "Thanks. But y-you should go home, get some sleep,"

He secures the bandage in place. "I think you know I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you're up here alone, hurt. What kind of partner would that make me?" he says gently.

For the first time during this whole ordeal, tears glass over Ladybugs eyes, "Please,"

He wipes a few tears from her cheek with his thumb, "No" he replies with such finality, such commitment, it only makes Ladybug cry more, knowing she's lost.

She turns her face away from him, even though it's still resting in his lap.

Minutes pass in silence. Chat is content to just watch her breathing all night, needing this silent signal that she's still alive. Ladybug clenches her jaw against a new burning inside her. It's brighter than the flame left by the bullet ripping through her, this new burn feels like she's being soldered back together from the inside.

"I'm sorry." he breaks the quiet, "I wish it was me who got hit, not you."

"I don't."

He looks down to her turned away face, unable to read her expression.

"I heard the shot from a dozen blocks away; figured you might need back-up if it was something serious." he continues, knowing she won't be elaborating further on that last comment. "The crowd had already incapacitated the man when I arrived, and I almost thought that I wasn't needed. But then I heard you."

Ladybug stiffens at his retelling, but lets him continue.

"The people were all wide-eyed, staring at me. Only now do I realize they were looking at me as if offering condolences.

"They all stepped aside to reveal you, hunched over, kneeling on a bloody sidewalk. For a moment I looked for a different victim, that maybe you were helping them until the paramedics arrived" he shudders, "But that delusion didn't last long."

She sighs, turning her face to look up at the sky, "I-I'm sorry you had to see me like that- like this. I should have been more careful"

He shakes his head, "There was no way to see it coming" he mostly admits to himself, fighting back his self-doubt and self-blame. This is something that Ladybug had previously talked him through, trying to steer him away from blaming himself every time she gets nicked or a fight doesn't go as planned.

She nods, "Yeah", then smirks to herself, "I think you're handling this well, actually. If it were you that got shot, I don't know what I'd do." There it was again. Her beating around a thought that has never occurred to Chat. This relationship, this partnership, he believed to be one-sided, was not as tilted as he thought. "What do you mean?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

Her eyes focus on something far away, the moon rising above them. For the first moment since the hit, there's an ebb in the pain. Some relief washes over her, lowering her guard. "I'd die for you, Chat Noir" she says plainly, as fact. "I know I don't make it obvious. Just because I don't love you the way you want me to, doesn't mean I don't love you at all." Ladybug finally lets her head fall to the side, gazing up at him like she was with the moon.

Chat doesn't blink or breathe. And why would he, this is obviously a nightmare-turned-dream going on in his mind. His mind tortured him with images of Ladybug suffering, only to then have his partner reveal that she would die for him. Unbelievable.

But eventually, he's forced to take a shaky breath and blink his watering eyes. This is real.

"I could not live if you died for me, M'lady" he eventually manages to say after finding his voice again, "you know you're playing on a two-way street" he kisses her forehead sweetly, barely applying pressure.

She nods, "But if I have to go on without you because you jump in to save me, then so do you. So it's more of a four-way intersection." She scrunches her nose knowingly.

He rolls his eyes playfully, "Fine. But let's agree and hope we never actually get to that point. Okay?" He perks up, despite discussing their possibly shortened lives. He can tell she's feeling better by the light in her eyes, and of course, he feels his heart race at the fact that she loves him back in any capacity.

"Okay"

They spend the rest of the night here. Their conversations do not dwell in these darker regions, keeping it light until the sky does the same. Chat only realizes he's nodded off when he's awoken by a kiss on the top of his head. This coaxes him from his sleep, along with Ladybug's voice whispering, "See you later, Kitty."

By the time he wipes his eyes clear against the rising sunlight, he only catches the sight of his love's silhouette above the skyline.