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“—I told you. You shouldn’t have come to school.” Tikki huffed, exasperated. She was floating in front of Marinette’s face to stare her in the eyes.
Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I know, but my attendance record is already down in the dumps as it is! I couldn’t let a little fever force me to remain home.”
“You nearly passed out during PE!” Tikki chided, gesturing at their surroundings. Marinette stubbornly did not look at the unfamiliar bed beneath her or the cabinet of medical supplies in the corner of the room. She ignored the fact they were able to communicate so openly at all solely because Marinette was stuck in the nurse’s office. “How does that help your attendance record, huh? And you don’t have a little fever, you’ve got a high fever. Just because your body’s more resilient than an average human’s doesn’t mean you get to traipse around like you’re fine!”
Marinette scowled. Tikki was starting to sound more like a mother than she had ever heard before. She opened her mouth to say as much, when—
“Mlle Dupain-Cheng? How are—”
Marinette’s spine stiffened as if she had just been electrocuted. Slowly, feeling as if she’s in a horror movie, she turned her head to the entrance of the room.
The nurse was staring transfixed at Marinette. No, not Marinette—at Tikki. “—what…what is that thing?”
…shit.
Marinette wasn’t one for swearing, but this situation definitely called for it.
Nobody could prove what happened next was a result of the fever meddling with Marinette’s mind. Nobody could prove it wasn’t, either.
Marinette grabbed the blanket from the sickbed, and lunged.
Even sick, she was stronger and faster than the average human. The nurse could only stand in shock as Marinette threw the blanket over her head. Marinette pinned the nurse to the wall, shoving a hand over the nurse’s face so she could breathe in nothing but the stale fabric of the blanket.
“—Marinette, what are you doing!?” She heard Tikki shout.
Marinette would like to know the answer to that as well.
The nurse struggled. Marinette could make out a few muffled cries through the blanket, but the cries only made her hold on more firmly.
Eventually, the nurse fell silent. Marinette waited for a few seconds, before allowing the blanket to fall away.
The nurse, unconscious, dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
The sight of the unconscious body jolted Marinette’s mind back to reality, the fog over her hazy mind draining away. Marinette blinked, and looked at the nurse’s body with new eyes.
She had just suffocated someone for finding out about her secret.
Marinette scarcely stopped herself from slamming her head against the wall. What was she, a mafia member?
Almost nervously, Marinette placed two fingers over her victim’s the nurse’s neck, silently thanking Chat for his idea of binge-watching all those first-aid videos on patrol. There—a pulse.
Marinette sighed in relief. She hadn’t become a murderer. Yet. (The memory of Ladybug tricking the Mime into cutting the Eiffel Tower in half replayed in her mind.) Not in a way in which she could not bring back the victims, at least.
Marinette grabbed the nurse under her shoulders, attempting to drag her onto the sickbed. Marinette would simply tell the nurse she had suddenly passed out when she woke up, and gaslight the nurse about seeing a floating, talking plushie. Hopefully, the nurse would conclude Tikki’s presence was just a fever dream.
Except—hauling dead weight was much harder when Marinette wasn’t transformed. Could she transform for something so mundane? Technically, Marinette was doing superhero business by ensuring her secret identity wouldn’t be discovered. If she locked the door so nobody would walk in on Ladybug moving a body around, there shouldn’t be any issue, right?
Wait—was this a fever-induced deranged idea as well? But it all made sense in Marinette’s mind—this would be so easy if Marinette transformed…
Marinette glanced at Tikki pleadingly.
Tikki only looked back smugly, “I told you coming to school with a fever is a bad idea.”