"Marinette?" Chat Noir cradled her head into his lap as her body lay limp over top of his legs. "Marinette? Princess? Come on, speak to me."

He stroked a hand through her hair noticing how her skin had begun to turn steely grey, and a slight sweat sheen was taking over her forehead. She needed medical attention and fast. Keeping her cradled in one arm, he reached around his back aiming for his baton, the tremble of fear making it a lot more difficult than intended.

It took him a few attempts to grasp it before dialling the right number.

"Do you need any help?" A new voice sounded in the alleyway and Chat Noir noticed an older lady with a young boy.

They approached him cautiously, the woman slowly lowering herself to settle beside him, her hand coming to rest upon his forearm attempting to steady his movements. "Can we help in any way?"

"Can you just," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes to control his breathing, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Now was not the time for him to have a panic attack, not when his almost certain wife was laying in his arms unconscious. "Could you just speak to the hospital and let them know Chat Noir is bringing someone in?"

He handed the baton over for her to talk to the medics as he begged for his best friend (his wife) to wake up. How had they gotten to this point? He was sure this was his fault? He'd never forgive himself if something happened to her, he would never forgive himself! He'd only just realised the depths of his feelings and he'd already screwed it up; he should have pushed her to see the doctor, been more concerned and caring.

This must be some sick joke. Maybe she was pulling a prank on him? She liked pranks, she was a prank queen afterall! She was getting him back for being so insensitive, yes - definitely. Only he knew that was a lie. She wasn't getting him back; she was sick. He was losing her, and he knew it.

He stroked his claws through her hair as he studied her ashen face; the face which meant the world and more to him. His knees began to ache, yet he didn't want to move her in fear of making her worse, he needed to protect her, his job was to protect her. God he just wanted her to spring up and tell him what a doofus he was for believing it, that she could act like a statue too.

"Hey, sweet girl, you need to wake up. Come on Marinette, please." His nose was tingling and voice breaking as he tried to speak to her, coaxing her to come around and back to him.

"Are you her next of kin?" The woman holding his phone asked, looking between the two of them. The way he was cradling her, he wasn't surprised that had been brought up.

"Oh - um - no, yes, I - um - maybe? No, I'm just a friend." As soon as he said it his heart constricted, he hated having to lie, but he couldn't exactly say he was her husband. All Paris knew the heroes were married, it wouldn't take long for the woman to place two and two together and sell their identities to the press. So for now, Marinette was his friend, his friend who he needed to get to hospital asap.

"Okay." The woman continued talking to the paramedics, every now and then looking down to check on Marinette. "They want to know if you can feel a pulse?"

Chat moved around, pressing his fingers to her neck before counting slowly back from 20, yes there was a pulse but it was faint and the gaps between each were far too long for his liking.

"Yes, but it's not regular."

He heard the woman relay that down the phone before asking him another question then another then another. This was going on too long, he just needed to know someone would be there when he brought her in. Grabbing his baton from the woman a little more aggressively than he should have, he placed it to his ear and spoke into the microphone.

"Listen up, I'm about to bring someone in right now and I want the best doctors you have ready. I don't care about the cost, or whatever, I will pay for it, but I'm coming in. I expect someone to be waiting for us."

He closed the baton and positioned it behind his back, turning to the woman and the boy and apologising for his abruptness. Moving Marinette delicately in his arms, he stood cradling her against his chest, relief leaving him when he heard her sigh. How could such a strange sign of life mean so much?

Once he had her comfortably against him, hopefully in a position that wasn't hurting her, he stretched around his back once more, grabbing a hold of his baton. It was times like this he couldn't be more grateful of the attributes which came with his super suit; ones that allowed him to balance his lady in one arm as he manoeuvred himself around the city. He went to make his move when the woman placed a hand on his lower arm, stilling him in his tracks.

"Look after her. She obviously means a lot to you."

He looked down into the woman's knowing eyes, catching the tilt of her lips and she slowly and shyly smiled at him.

"She'll be okay, she has you." The lady continued, his breath catching in his throat from the meaning of her words.

"Thank you for your help." He looked down at Marinette before placing a delicate kiss on the top of her forehead, what was the point in hiding it now? "She means everything to me."

"I guessed." The lady said, before turning and walking away, the boy in tow.

"Chat Noir," Tikki's soft, yet beautiful voice, filled the air; the worry evident in her words increased his nervousness tenfold. "I need to transform her, just until you get to the hospital."

He nodded, and looked down again. "But she can't speak."

"It doesn't matter, I just need your permission to absorb myself into the earrings."

"Of course," Chat Noir said, "anything to help her."

The small kwami nodded, before throwing her powers into Marinette's magical jewellery, and for the first time he saw the transformation of his best friend into the love of his life...wait no! That wasn't right! Even as Marinette the love he felt for her was more than anything he'd ever felt in his life. Hell, she'd even said it herself.

"Who is this woman you're worried about more than me? You say she's just a friend but I don't believe it. Not the way you talk about her. You're only an 'I love you' away from talking about her like you do me!"

The words rang in his head. Was he that obvious with his feelings for Marinette that Ladybug thought they were the same as the feelings about her? If that didn't prove how insanely in love with her he was nothing would. He just hoped she felt the same way about Adrien as she did Chat Noir? Would it be out of line to pray that he was Buttercup? The invasive Buttercup who was the love of her life, the one who started out as a misunderstanding?

Misunderstanding? If that didn't just sum up their relationship.

Finally moving into action, Chat Noir bounded up into the sky, propelling himself forward with the speed of a fighter jet, with a clear flight path straight to the hospital. It was times like this, though rare, that being a superhero was highly convenient.

He landed down in front of the emergency room having zero recollection of how he got there; fear and need clouding his mind as he moved as fast and safely as he could to his destination. Hiding her away whilst Tikki dropped the transformation, the small kwami hiding back in Marinette's purse wanting to be as close as possible.

Chat moved around the corner, pausing in front of the automatic doors which (for once) opened the way they should, allowing him in without having to put Marinette down, taking care not to hit her head as he moved into the reception, he surveyed the area for a possible helping hand.

"Nurse," he called out, somehow his voice remaining pitch perfect and not the quivering mess he felt. "Nurse." He sounded again, only for three staff members to run over to him, one pushing a bed.

"We weren't sure if it was really you calling," one nurse said, indicating for him to place her on the bed. He moved around and lowered her slowly, inconspicuously placing a gentle kiss to her head as he lay her down.

"Have you got doctors here?"

"It is a hospital, Mr Noir."

His eyes hardened, his glare focused on the nurse who'd just answered him, her body recoiling from his look, the look which told her he wasn't here to play. He reached forward, taking a hold of Marinette's side satchel and reaching for her phone; the phone he knew was set with him as her emergency contact.

"Take this, she's married, I'm sure her husband is the emergency contact on there."

Handing over the phone he turned and ran outside, launching himself into the nearest alleyway and dropping his transformation; finally, he allowed his legs to collapse under the strain and stress, and seat himself on the cold, damp floor. He didn't care that he was only in his tee and jeans, that was the least of his worries at the moment.

"Are you okay?"

He shook his head, words not making their way out of his mouth as he looked at Plagg and unconsciously took his phone from his pocket, placing it in his lap and waiting for it to ring. This had to be right, the call had to be coming through to him, the clarification of what he already knew; the call that would finally break the quantum masking and strip them both completely bare of any magical disguise.

He sighed, tapping his phone screen to light it up, checking the signal was okay where he was, before putting the volume on max and staring at his and Ladybug's face. It was a picture from Halloween, the two of them in costume dressed as Gomez and Morticia. That was a great night, they'd had so much fun; before, during and after the party.

He let out a sigh again, resting his head back against the wall and tapping the phone to his bouncing leg. Every second he continued to wait was a moment too long.

"What if she's seriously ill? What if I can't save her this time?"

"I'm quite sure she'd come back and haunt your pathetic ass."

Adrien tried to control his snot laced laugh, but his kwami was right. If anything did happen to Ladybug there wasn't a chance in hell she'd let him off scott free.

"Listen kid, Tikki's with her, she'll look after her until you get the call, just try and relax okay."

Pfft... relax. Easier said than done when your life is on the line and you have no control. He cannot live without her; he was quite sure if anything happened he'd be a rare case of death by broken heart.

He sat still staring at the phone, willing yet fearing the sound of any incoming communication, his heart lurching as he thought of what was written in a book he'd recently read. 'Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares'. And wasn't that just the truth.

His leg continued pulsating at an unnerving speed, his body shaking from either the cold or the shock, but either way it was building, he was on the verge of collapsing.

He shivered under the cold afternoon air. The darkness of night had started to draw the curtains on day, moulding the shadows into one vast absence of light, as nightfall the sat chilled against the wall wearing nothing more than a lame excuse for clothing.

He closed his eyes; calming his heart's palpitations as he slowly but surely began to count back from 20.

A sudden pulsation repeatedly vibrated against his leg. His eyes fluttering open and focusing on the small piece of technology in his lap, the little machine repeating a random number on the screen begging him to answer it. This was it. This was the moment Adrien Agreste suddenly had a wife to take care of; that suddenly the truth was out that he had married his best friend.

Blinking rapidly, he attempted to pull his vision back to where it needed to be – on his phone. He missed the answer button twice, and almost dropped his phone four times, but eventually he was ready to meet his fate. His thumb met the green circle to answer the call, and he raised the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he croaked, it seemed 'Froggy' was back.

"Hello, is that the husband of Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Yes," he breathed out, "yes it is." The confirmation was finally there. Finally he knew the truth and it hurt all the more.

What if he couldn't save her?

"We have your wife with us..."

As the nurse continued to speak he gave one word answers, answering questions the best way he could, her middle name (or lack thereof), her date of birth, her address, all the time, his free hand rubbing across his forehead. This was not how he expected their reveal to go down; there were no heartfelt hugs, kisses and cuddles. No declarations of love and happiness, just an empty void of half a heart waiting to be adjoined to its mate.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask us?"

"Yes," he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat, "I need complete discretion when I arrive at the hospital."

"Yes Monsieur, however, may I ask whose name I should place down for visitation rights?"

"Adrien," he sighed, rubbing at his temple one more. Finally, "Adrien Agreste."