The Edge of the Circle (9)
The only time you need a miracle is when nothing else can save you.
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Pairing: General, LadyNoir
Genre: general, mystery, supernatural
Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir face an unknown enemy. As heartache and danger close in, they will discover the true meaning of the Miraculous.
"Are you sick?" he blurted.
Ladybug’s face scrunched and she frowned up at him. Chat crouched in front of her, extending a hand towards her but not quite daring to touch. She stared at it dubiously - and a bit groggily - as the little shivers danced down her frame.
"Please," he said, flexing the fingers of the hand he extended.
With a soft huff that was enough like her usual self to calm some of his worry, she placed her wrist in his hand.
She definitely had a fever. Not even the insulating nature of their suits could hide the heat coming off her skin, or the tremors she was obviously trying to minimise. He ran his claws gently over her forearm to her elbow before bringing them back to clasp her hand.
"What are you doing out?" he asked, dismayed.
"How did you know?" she groused instead.
Chat didn't think she'd be interested in hearing about his recent bumbling attempt at socialising. "Lucky guess. I think there must be something going around."
Her tremors grew worse as she gave up trying to suppress them and he swallowed down the worry before it overcame him again. There were no Alyas or Ninos here to fix things this time. Well, technically Alya was in the room below, but he didn't think she'd appreciate him barging into her room at 1 a.m as Chat and demanding she heal Ladybug.
Then he rethought that and realised that actually she might like it, but that didn't make it any more of an option.
No, he had to do something and Chat—admittedly still less than knowledgeable about illness, but remembering how cold Marinette had felt and how much she'd appreciated his scarf—reluctantly left Ladybug to go and fetch the cosiest thing he could scrounge.
With autumn well and truly underway and winter already impatiently creeping up undercover of night, there unfortunately wasn't any laundry conveniently out on the lines to select from. But in a stroke of luck, someone had left some fuzzy throws on their balcony chairs. Chat swiped them with nary a second thought, hurrying back to the pointed rooftop.
"Here." He laid the first one down on the cold tiles, almost shooing her towards it when she eyed it from her huddled limbs.
"Did you just steal a blanket?" she questioned, but nevertheless shuffled over to sit on the fluffy fabric.
"We're just borrowing it." He draped the second one over her, so that she was effectively swaddled from the cold on all sides.
Not really knowing what else to do, he moved to sit opposite, sliding his back down a metal pipe. Or a chimney. Maybe it was an air duct?
What were these things seemingly on every roof? You'd think I'd know by know.
Ladybug clutched at the excess of blankets around her. Truthfully, Chat wasn't even sure if they would help: through the winters and summers they'd worn their suits, Chat had never actually felt hot or cold. He'd always assumed that the magic extended to protecting the wearer from the elements. Maybe that was the problem here. Maybe because the heat was coming from within, the suit wasn't able to adjust in the same way.
He was broken out of his musing when he realised he was being watched, glancing up to find Ladybug's blue eyes gazing at him from over the top of the blanket. He froze under the weight of her stare, then started when she wordlessly lifted one corner out wide, silently inviting him to join her.
Chat held his breath. Their partnership had grown a lot from the days of awkwardly dancing around each other. They had grown. Even so, there were still times like this where she surprised him. Chat could confidently say they were friends but there remained some boundaries she was very careful with. Outside of battle, physical closeness was one. It was always special when she broke the professional mask to remind him in her own way that they weren't just partners. And though she usually did so with a long-suffering expression, he cherished it each and every time.
Ladybug shook the corner impatiently at his hesitation and Chat scrambled across before she could retract it. He settled next to her, leaving a couple of centimetres between them, and mimicked her posture, wrapping his arms around his legs. He imagined how comical they must look, with the blanket stretched between them, swamping her shaking shoulders yet barely covering his knees. Their height was one of the other things that had grown. Or rather, his had. Disarmingly, Ladybug had remained more or less the same.
She shifted a bit until her chin poked up from beneath the cover. Her forehead crinkled. "Chat, are you wearing cologne?"
