Chapter Text
Adrien gaped.
Félix’s eyes softened, looking him up and down from his spot on his chair, his tone alarmingly genuine as he asked, “Really. How are you?”
Like a match to a gas leak, Adrien’s blood erupted into flames. Rage flared in his veins, the tears that had been threatening to spring back to his eyes evaporating in an instant amidst the heat.
How dare he ask him that? How dare he, as if he ever cared? How dare he, as if he wasn’t still likely a part of all of this somehow, as if he hadn’t been one of the deceivers, as if he hadn’t—
“Whoa.” Félix’s eyes widened. “Why the hostility?”
Adrien hadn’t moved. He only stared at him, poker faced, not allowing his magma to breach his surface. Chat Noir may have an excuse to be openly enraged, but Adrien didn’t— not as far as Félix was aware. He spoke simply, “I’m not being hostile.”
You’d know if I was.
Félix stared at him. “You’re positively furious at me,” he stated as fact, throwing kindling onto Adrien’s flames.
“You just know everything, don’t you?” Adrien snapped, vision red as he chucked his school bag off his shoulders.
Félix threw his hands up in surrender. “I promise, I come in peace!”
“Why?” Adrien bit out.
“Would you believe me if I said I was worried about you?”
Adrien scowled.
“Well.” Félix frowned. “You should.”
Adrien scoffed, marching past him and to the couch. “Let me guess. You were out looking for me yesterday, too?”
“Of course I was. Nathalie said you ran away. I was alarmed.” Adrien plopped down on a cushion. He heard a kick against the hardwood, and the sound of chair wheels rolling up to the couch. “Not that I can’t admire a rebellious streak, of course. If anyone’s earned one, it’s you.”
Adrien merely scoffed, leaning back against the couch and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.
“... Just wanted to check in. Wouldn’t have turned you in if I’d found you. Nathalie hasn’t been giving you any trouble, has she?” Félix’s eyes fell to his hand.
Adrien crossed his arms and looked away. “Why would she?”
“Just checking.” He heard the creak of the desk chair leaning back. “I don’t know why you’re so upset with me. You know you can talk to me, right? I can be a good listener.”
“Oh, yeah,” Adrien sneered, “Right. Silly me. I must’ve forgotten how trustworthy you are.”
Félix hummed. “... Will you at least give me a hint? Last I checked, we were getting along fine.”
Last you checked, I was still in the dark. Last you checked, I wasn’t aware of all the ways you’d lied to me. Last you checked, there hadn’t been a mysterious new villain, and I hadn’t bothered to really question what your involvement in all of this was—
“Maybe I’ve just come to my senses,” he huffed, glaring at his shoes, still propped on the table.
A long pause. “… For the record, I may have appeared in the footage, but I had nothing to do with Chat Noir’s temper tantrum.”
Félix may as well have poured gasoline directly onto his fire. Adrien’s jaw clenched.
“Did I hit the nail on the head?” Félix sighed. “Really, Adrien. I tried to stop him.”
He hadn’t tried very hard, if Adrien recalled. He’d joined the chase, sure, but Ladybug was the one who’d really tried to apprehend him. Not that that mattered. Not that he wanted to think about it. Not that that was what actually had him so enraged.
Adrien eyed Félix’s tie, well aware of the brooch that laid beneath. “... Whatever.” He tore his eyes away again, looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”
“Of course, of course…” The chair creaked again, and both fell into a long silence. “... … I really did come here to check on you, you know. I don’t have any ulterior motives.”
As far as Adrien could tell, Félix was nothing but ulterior motives. He said nothing.
“I’m serious.” Félix’s tone matched his words. “I care about you.”
Adrien said nothing.
“... Really?” Félix sighed, clearly still picking up on the magma— because he just had to know everything, didn’t he? Of course he did. He was wielding the miraculous of emotion right now— a miraculous he got in some weird, uneven trade with Adrien’s father for reasons unbeknownst to him, because Félix apparently somehow figured out Shadowmoth’s identity— a miraculous that he, as far as Adrien was aware, rarely seemed to use the power of, a miraculous that once belonged to Nathalie and nearly killed her— and maybe did kill his mother if Nathalie had been lying to Chat Noir, a miraculous that everything seemed to come back to for some reason— “You need to cool off.”
Adrien stilled.
“... The… pool,” he said slowly, turning his head to face Félix. “The pool would cool me off.”
Félix gave him a strange look. “... The pool? Now?”
“Why not?” He watched him. “Even if it starts to get late… … It’s heated.”
“True…”
“It’d cool me off.” But the magma had already cooled, instead leaving a tingle in his nerves as Adrien leapt up to his feet, heart thumping in his chest in excitement. “You can borrow one of my swimsuits.”
Félix stared at him, eyes wide. “... Well. Alright.”
“Great,” Adrien breathed, rushing past him and to the closet.
*****
Adrien wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing. He was flying by the seat of his pants here. He wasn’t much of a schemer, not the way that Marinette was—
Don’t think about Marinette.
No, he had to focus on the now. On the present. Swimming in the pool and relaxing in the backyard and keeping Félix’s suspicions low.
“Why’d you run away?” Félix asked at some point, sitting on the edge of the pool.
Adrien shrugged from his spot in the water, arms crossed over the ledge. “I didn’t, really. I just went out for a few hours. How’s Kagami?”
That worked well to switch the subject. Next thing Adrien knew, he was lounging by the poolside watching Félix do backstrokes as he rambled on— actually rambled, which Adrien hadn’t realized he could do— about Kagami and her recent illustrations, funny comments she made, a shoujo manga she’d gotten him to read, her reaction to a musical he’d gotten her to see live, and the like.
“How’s Marinette?” Félix ended the blather.
“Fine,” Adrien answered, trying not to think about the ways it was a lie, “What’s being a superhero like?”
“Haven’t I talked enough?” Félix sighed, swimming to the edge of the pool and pulling himself up out of the water. “I came here to talk about you. You’re getting me sidetracked.”
“I don’t want to talk about me.” He watched him. “Maybe I just want to relax. Get my mind off of things.”
Félix shrugged, grabbing a towel and drying himself. “Fair enough, I suppose. But I’m sick of talking.”
“Fine.” Adrien placed his hands under his head, looking up at the sky as Félix approached and sat down in the lounge chair beside his. “We don’t have to talk.”
So they didn’t.
It was kind of weird, simply lounging in the backyard in complete silence with Félix. Maybe Adrien would have found it relaxing in any other scenario— if he trusted him like he used to, if his brain weren’t buzzing, if he didn’t feel so twitchy, if he didn’t have a million problems on the forefront of his mind.
At least Félix wasn’t wearing the brooch anymore. Maybe Adrien’s acting skills could actually be put to use now.
The two stayed in silence for what felt like hours. At some point, Adrien’s bodyguard stopped by with a plate of fruity drinks for them— but it was for the most part uneventful. With the sun beginning to set, even Adrien, as on edge as he was, found himself eventually sinking into the chair, practically having to force himself to stay awake and alert.
He peeked over at Félix, who seemed awfully relaxed himself, hands behind his head and eyes closed. Had he fallen asleep? Could Adrien be that lucky?
Quietly, Adrien slipped off of the lounge chair and to his feet. He tip-toed past Félix, taking advantage of the grass to muffle the sounds of his footsteps—
“Where are you going?” Félix murmured.
Adrien startled. “... The bathroom.”
Félix hummed. “It’s getting late. We done out here?”
“I… guess.”
Félix shrugged. “Alright.” He sighed, but sank further into the chair. “... I’ll head in in a sec. Just a few more minutes.”
Adrien swallowed. “Okay.”
Maybe a few minutes was all he needed.
With renewed vigor, Adrien turned on his heel and marched inside. Just indoors, by the bathroom nearest the back door, laid their clothes, nicely folded and ready for them to get dressed.
Adrien grabbed his clothes.
… and the brooch from Félix’s.
And sprinted up to his room.
He slammed the door shut behind him, brooch in hand. The moment he’d plucked the golden brooch from the clothes, magic had washed over it, the glamor dissipating into blue.
Adrien wasn’t sure where Duusu had been. Hopefully, Félix wouldn’t immediately notice that she had disappeared.
After changing into his clothes as quickly as he could— which was very quick, considering his years of modeling— Adrien brushed his fingers against the brooch, inspecting it.
Damaged, Nathalie had said. This brooch had once been damaged, and she had nearly died for it. But the ornamental peacock feathers looked pristine as ever.
Plagg whistled. “Wow. I can’t believe you did that. He’s gonna be sooooo mad…”
“Hide,” Adrien said. Plagg rolled his eyes, and then disappeared into the cheese cabinet.
He gave the peacock tail another touch— more intentional, this time, and a blue magical light zapped out. Duusu uncurled and looked at him.
“Hi, Duusu,” Adrien said, his heart racing, wondering how much time he had, and what he could possibly ask first.
“Hi!” She smiled. “Oh!” She flitted around him. “Are you pretending to be Adrien again?”
“I need you to tell me something,” he said seriously, and she stilled. “Did my m— aunt, Emilie Agreste, ever… wield you?”
Duusu spat out bubbles. “I can’t say!” Her lip quivered. “I can’t speak of my past holders. I’m sorry!”
Adrien grit his teeth. He didn’t have much time. “... Okay… can you at least tell me if… anyone wielded you, in the past… couple decades… before Nathalie Sancoeur?”
Duusu blinked. And then she laughed. “You’re so silly! You already know the answer to that!”
His jaw clenched harder.
“Hey, wait!” Duusu gasped, her eyes flicking to his left hand. “What happened to your ring? Why do you have Adrien’s—”
“ADRIEN!” Félix’s voice shouted from behind the door, and Adrien sucked in a sharp gasp, snatching Duusu out of the air and shoving both her and the miraculous into his pocket. He spun on his heel just in time to see Félix slam the door open and march inside. “Did you take my brooch?”
“What?” Adrien widened his eyes, feigning casual innocence. “Why would I take your brooch?”
Félix scowled at him, fully dressed now. He grit out, “It wasn’t with my clothes.”
Adrien shot him a look of confusion. “I don’t know. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
He was sure he didn’t buy it. But Félix gave him one last suspicion-filled look-over and sucked in a deep breath, turning on his heel and marching out of the room shouting, “NATHALIE!”
The door slammed shut, and Adrien knew he didn’t have much time left. Félix was absolutely going to come back for him.
“Oooh…” Duusu flew out of his pocket, staring at him. “You’re not my holder…”
“I am right now,” Adrien grit out, snatching the brooch out of his pocket and pinning it to his shirt. The glamor washed over the peacock’s tail, transforming it to silver.
He only put it on to solidify himself as Duusu’s holder, to continue his line of questioning without fear of her taking off after Félix. But before he could even open his mouth to ask another question— maybe about the nature of Félix’s trade with his father— he was overwhelmed with sensations he’d never felt before.
A low hum of emotions, swirling in the air. A distant network in the back of his mind, of feelings and sentiments— pain and tears and anger and joy and love. And he knew without even having to ask that he could hone in on any if he so chose. He could listen in and feel their rage, their despair, their passion.
Though, he didn’t have to listen very hard to sense a strong emotion, proximity close, within this very mansion. A source of panic and anxiety, wafting through the halls, nearly odorous in its strength.
But none of that was really what caught Adrien’s attention.
No, the emotions may have held an initial shock, but they were expected. He may not have been fully prepared to feel them, but they didn’t surprise him. He’d known something like that would happen.
The magic wafting off of his left ring finger, from his parents’ wedding bands, however, caught him completely unawares.
He stared at them. He turned his hand, eyes locked on the bands, waiting for his senses to sharpen and the error to be corrected, waiting for it to make sense, waiting for the rings to explain themselves.
A hum of life, swirling within the bands of silver. Magical. Living. Real.
A slam of an opening door, and the scent of anxiety hit him even harder, nearly overpowering.
“Adrien,” he heard Félix’s voice spit out, followed by approaching, marching footsteps, “I’m going to ask you again. Did you take my—”
Silence.
And Adrien’s eyes were still locked on his rings.
The anxiety shifted— not leaving, not growing, but changing in a way that Adrien could perfectly sense but never describe.
But his eyes were still on the rings.
“Adrien…” Félix said, tone slow and deliberate as he took a step towards him, “... I can explain.”
“You put an amok in my parents’ rings?” Adrien asked, somehow putting words to the horrible, indescribable realization that had hit him.
“No,” Félix lied— and Adrien knew that it was a lie, because he could sense it, could feel the amok on his finger— and took another step closer. “I didn’t—”
“You made a sentimonster out of my emotions?” Adrien shouted, finally whirling around to face him, his rage once again ignited. “Where is it!?”
Félix’s eyes widened— not that Adrien needed to pay much attention to his expression when he could feel the way the panic pulsed off of him, the way Adrien’s words had clearly struck some kind of emotional chord. “Adrien, I—”
He wrested the awful rings off of his finger, stumbling back away from Félix, gripping the amok object tight in his fist as he called out to the room in command, “Show yourself!”
Where was it? Where was it? If there was a sentimonster somewhere, under Adrien’s control, how did he not notice until now?
Instinct taking over, Adrien turned on his heel and marched to the bathroom, throwing open the door.
Félix followed him, “Wait, Adrien—”
Adrien marched inside and turned to the mirror, staring his own enraged face in the eye.
Why did he come to the bathroom? Had he really expected to find it here?
Pinching the rings tight between his fingers, he held them up to Félix and shouted, “What is this!?”
“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” Félix said, still fearful, still full of palpable dread, with a new healthy dose of guilt. “I just—”
And Adrien couldn’t help but wonder why he was even entertaining this. Why he was going to listen to someone who had only ever lied to him, betrayed him, made a fool of him and turned his grief, his anger, his sadness, whatever into a monster—
“Duusu!” Adrien called, ignoring Félix’s heady spike of panic, “Spread my feathers!”
The magic washed over him, replacing his clothes with a peacock’s coat. Fueled by adrenaline and betrayal, Adrien raised a gloved hand into the air, fingers poised and ready to snap—
“NO!” Félix screamed, the volume punctuated by the slam of absolute terror flooding Adrien’s senses, briefly stunning him in its intensity. Félix threw his hands up in front of him in a panicked gesture for mercy. “DON’T!”
And then Adrien saw it. On Félix’s finger— in Félix’s ring— another hum of life swirling in a silver band. Another amok.
What?
Argos couldn’t have put two amoks out into the world. A peacock wielder could only have one sentimonster out at a time. At least one of the amoks had to have been created by someone else, like Mayura, or Shadowmoth, or…
Félix’s gaze flicked between Adrien and the ring on his finger. And then, before Adrien could blink, he launched forward and snatched the bands from Adrien’s hand.
As if it mattered. Ladybug and Chat Noir long learned their lesson that who was in possession of the amok didn’t really matter against whoever was wielding the peacock. He could still snap it away—
“Give me the brooch,” Félix commanded, the wedding bands clutched between his fingers, the terror already shifting off of him in favor of relief.
Yeah, right. There was absolutely no way Adrien was about to—
You can’t disobey Félix, came a familiar rationale in the back of his mind. A thought usually reserved for his parents. An overwhelming need that usually made some semblance of justifiable sense, directed to an authority figure. A thought that he’d never been able to disobey before.
… and couldn’t now.
I don’t want to do that, he thought, a tremor in his hands as they moved to his lapel. Why am I doing this? he thought, as his fingertips grasped at the brooch. You can’t disobey Félix, he thought, as the miraculous was unclipped from his shirt, the magic instantly washing off of him, leaving him suddenly blind to the emotions and amoks around him.
And Adrien stared ahead in horror, merely a spectator to the way his own hand presented the miraculous out to Félix, palm-up.
Félix swapped the brooch with the rings, and immediately pinned it to his vest.
“I…” Adrien tried to say, left gaping like a fish, left to wonder why he’d done such a thing, why he’d so readily handed over his trump card, why he’d so willingly let Félix win a battle he had already lost—
“I’m sorry,” Félix said, looking to him with something maybe like exhaustion or pity. Adrien couldn’t tell. “Like I said. This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”
The thought— the dreaded order to obey, obey, obey— was gone, washed away the moment the rings had returned to his hand.
Images flashed in his mind. The cracked rings, coinciding with him feeling torn open, bleeding out in all ways but physical, his consciousness coming in and out. Nathalie, who loved him, who would never leave him to die, prioritizing fixing the rings over getting him an ambulance…
… his mother, dying of the same peacock-borne illness that had nearly taken Nathalie…
… and Félix’s father, too.
His eyes locked on Félix’s ring. The ring that used to belong to Félix’s father.
“Are…” Adrien tried, the words barely above a breath, “... We’re… …” He couldn’t finish the thought.
Félix hesitated. “I can explain.”
And, once again, Adrien saw red.
He’d known. Félix had known. Yet another secret piled on, yet another thing that Adrien had never been allowed privy to. Flashes of the ways his father had ordered him around— even his mother, sometimes— flickered through his mind, you can’t disobey, you can’t disobey, his body moving on its own. The source of his life, the entirety of which had apparently all been a lie, resting at the base of his or whoever’s finger, and nobody had bothered to tell him—
“Look, I understand why you’re upset—”
Adrien roared and launched forward, making a swipe for the brooch—
“Duusu,” Félix sighed, easily side-stepping the attempted attack, “Spread my feathers.”
Adrien didn’t care. All he saw was red, red, red, and steam was shooting out his ears as he turned and tried to slug Argos in the face.
Argos caught his fist in his palm, easy.
Adrien tried to deck him with his other fist.
Argos caught that one, too.
“Adrien,” Argos sighed, gripping both of Adrien’s fists, not letting them go, not freeing him so he could continue his attack, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m on your side here. We’re the same. But, as you can see, you can’t hurt me either, so let’s just calm down—”
“Plagg,” Adrien bit out with venom, “Claws out!”
Argos’ eyes widened, shock briefly painting his features in the seconds that Adrien saw it before Chat Noir jumped up, his steel boot kicking up and into Argos’ chin, the backflip effectively wresting his hands out of Argos’ grip as he landed back on his feet in a battle stance.
Argos stumbled back, grasping his jaw and gaping at him. “You’re—”
“Having another temper tantrum!?” Chat Noir roared, whipping his baton off his back.
Argos’ face lit up, and Chat Noir leapt forward, bringing his baton down with a CRACK to the tiled floor that Argos effectively leapt away from.
“Did I say that?” Argos nearly laughed, almost seeming giddy as Chat Noir charged forward, swinging his baton where Argos’ ducking head had once been. “Let me amend— I’m a huge fan. That statue stunt? Woooooo!” Argos flipped back out of the way of another attack, landing atop the foosball table. “Oh yeah, that was well-earned. More than I’d realized. Practically an art form!”
“You lied to me!” Chat Noir roared, “You all did! About EVERYTHING!”
“Actually? Yeah—” Argos jumped over a swing at his legs, landing back on the hardwood. “In retrospect— all your anger? Completely justified, can’t fault you for it—” He parried an attack with his fan. “Hey, let’s take this outside before you trash your room, eh, cous?”
Chat Noir didn’t care. He was barely listening to what Argos was saying— his white-hot rage still burning at both ends, he charged forward and aimed another swing.
Another dodge. And then Argos was leaping out the window, and Chat Noir was giving chase.
“If anyone deserves to be angry—” Argos said, flipping over a chimney, Chat Noir’s thrown baton ricocheting off of the brick and back into his hand. “It’s you! Of course you’re furious!”
“I AM!” Chat Noir shouted, practically launching himself on all fours after his prey and pouncing.
“Makes me almost wish my father had some gaudy statue to break,” Argos grunted, parrying the flurry of attacks that Chat Noir began to levy at him with his fan, “That must’ve been cathartic!”
Chat Noir slammed his foot into Argos’ abdomen, landing the hit and sending him flying back into a chimney.
“Augh— I’ll hand it to you, I didn’t see that kick coming,” Argos grunted, rolling out of the way of the baton that came slamming down where he was. “Keep it coming, cous! Let it out!”
“He was my ARCHNEMESIS!” Chat Noir shouted, chasing after Argos, who’d once again begun leaping across rooftops. “My FATHER! It’s my LIFE!”
“In my defense,” Argos said, turning around just in time to block another flurry of attacks, “I did not know you were Chat Noir.”
“The only thing you didn’t, huh!?”
“And here we thought you were weak-willed!” Argos laughed, dodging an attack with a backwards flip and perching atop a chimney. “Hm. That came out worse than I’d intended.”
“Weak-willed?” Chat Noir spat, chucking his baton at him. Argos caught it and tossed it right back. “‘We’?”
“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” Argos sighed, leaping away from the chimney and to a new rooftop to dodge Chat Noir’s pounce. “From what I’ve heard from her, it’s why you broke up.”
Chat Noir landed in front of him, briefly halting his advance, his hands clutched on the baton, bracing himself for his world to shatter around him yet again. “We… broke up?”
Argos gave him a bewildered, affronted look. “... I would sure hope so.”
Chat Noir clenched his fists, hissing out, “Excuse me?”
“We are discussing Kagami. Correct?” Argos huffed, and Chat Noir sucked in a relieved breath. “Wow. Yes. I was referring to Kagami. I don’t have extended conversations with your girlfriend about your willpower. Just your ex.”
Chat Noir growled. With the knowledge that his world wasn’t newly shattered for the thousandth time— well, it had been, but not in the last five seconds, at least— his vigor renewed and he launched another attack against him. Argos successfully dodged.
“I mean— don’t get me wrong! It wasn’t all your fault! Clearly!” Argos ducked under another blow. “You were a victim! And like I said, it came out worse than I’d intended—” Argos leapt over an attempted leg-sweep. “I just meant— Wow! There was a whole side of you I never knew about! I didn’t know you had all this—” He gestured to the entirety of Chat Noir. “—in you!”
With the opening, Chat Noir slammed his weapon into Argos’ side, sending him flying off the rooftop and into the park below. Citizens gasped and fled the scene— escaping the lifted dust of blown up dirt yet to settle from Argos’ impact into the ground.
As Argos began to pull himself up onto his feet, Chat Noir landed a couple meters away with a thud, steel boots stomping forward, lifting his baton—
A flash of red and black landed amidst the cloud of dust— their features nearly obscured, a head of dark hair raising to look at him.
Ladybug, he thought, heart lodged in his throat. Ladybug’s come to defend Argos again—
Orange slitted eyes locked on his, and a wave of relief nearly washed over him as Ryuko raised her sword—
“Wait—” Argos gasped.
—and roared, charging forward and lobbying a flurry of sharp, precise attacks at Chat Noir.
Chat Noir gasped, stumbling back to block and parry her enraged barrage. He narrowly dodged a slash of her sword— the blade instead slicing a street lamp in half and sending it crashing to the ground.
If any citizens were still around before that point, they were gone now— fleeing in droves as Ryuko continued her assault. One mistake on Chat Noir’s part was a mistake too many— and soon he was being slammed back into a shop window, shattered glass raining down on top of him.
He rolled out of the way just in time to miss her sword coming down and piercing the display sill. Leaping back to his feet, he held his baton defensively as she spun around and pounced at him again.
“My Queen!” Argos shouted from somewhere— but Chat Noir couldn’t look, couldn’t risk taking in his surroundings, couldn’t risk his attention being drawn away from the blade delivering blow after blow against his weapon, forced to back away amidst the onslaught. “Stop!”
“He was attacking you!” Ryuko shouted, her own attacks unyielding amidst Chat Noir’s parries. She went for a heavy downward swing, which he blocked, the friction of their metal weapons causing sparks to fly as they used all the force they could muster to push their weapons against each other.
“No, no, you misunderstand!” Argos rushed to their sides. “We were simply blowing off steam!”
“‘Blowing off steam’?” She grunted, her intense eyes not leaving Chat Noir’s, their energy still centered into their weapons locked together.
“All friendly!” Argos affirmed, “Chat Noir just needs to get some anger out of his system. We don’t want to hurt him. Think of it as… therapeutic.” Argos hummed in thought. “Actually. Something tells me you two would make great sparring partners…”
“‘Therapeutic’? ‘Sparring partners’?” She huffed.
“That’s right.”
Ryuko’s eyes narrowed, and Chat Noir narrowed his back. After a moment, the two pulled away from their locked position.
“Trust me, love,” Argos said, a big stupid grin on his face as he looked between them. “He’s more than earned this.”
“You know I don’t like it when you’re vague,” Ryuko said, her eyes not leaving Chat Noir’s, stepping back a few strides, saluting him with her sword and readying herself into a fencing stance.
He huffed, and did the same with his baton.
“I know,” Argos said, “I’ll fill you in later. I promise.”
What?
Chat Noir’s rage flared brighter, his posture and grip tightening.
“En garde! Prêts?” Argos called, “Allez!”
Chat Noir lunged forward, delivering his own barrage of attacks that Ryuko parried, attempting ripostes and going for attacks of her own.
Their match wasn’t stagnant, and certainly not above board— their blows and attacks to each other unrelenting, their position ever changing as they backed each other into corners and lunged and leapt, sparks flying at each clash of their weapons.
Argos followed them through the streets and rooftops and wherever else they found themselves in the midst of their match, calling penalties on any successful blows to each other that he deemed had hit too hard. Not that a penalty had any true meaning in such a scenario, but Chat Noir didn’t actually want to hurt Ryuko, and judging by the way the sharpness of her attacks would dull after a call, he figured she didn’t really want to hurt him, either.
The adrenaline pumping through his veins, carrying him through savage attack after nimble parry, began to dissipate. Even with his transformation, Chat Noir didn’t have endless energy, and as his blows began to weaken, so too did the fire in his veins dim.
On the rooftop they’d found themselves at, Chat Noir lunged at Ryuko, and she parried with a clink of their weapons. He readied his baton to go for another blow and—
Something large smacked against his arms, knocking his baton out of his hands and to the streets below. The object— a large, green shield— ricocheted off of chimneys, flying back to its origin.
Ryuko reared back, breaths heavy as she lowered her sword. Chat Noir’s breaths were heavy, too, as he turned and locked eyes with Carapace, who caught the shield in his outstretched hand.
“Hey!” Argos spun on his heel, leveling Carapace a look. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“You’re joking,” Carapace spat, “Right?”
Only then, weapon out of his hands and rage out of his system, panting and sweating and Ryuko’s immediate threat gone, did Chat Noir take in his surroundings.
Street lamps were sliced. Chimneys were crumbled. Windows and walls were cracked. A crater sat in the street from a penalty Argos had called that Chat Noir could still feel the crick in his neck from.
They’d done that. He’d done that. And he’d known it at the time, too— he hadn’t been oblivious to their destruction. But when the rage was flaring, and his blood was boiling and the steam was shooting from his ears, he hadn’t cared. He couldn’t pretend to. None of it mattered, not beyond delivering blow after blow to Argos or Ryuko.
But the rage was gone, now. And as he looked over the destruction set in, all he felt was a dawning horror at what he’d done.
Superheroes of all colors stood on adjacent rooftops, closing in on them, their stares judgemental. Because they were the superheroes, here. Not him. He was nothing but a monster— an honest to god monster— a sentimonster— a being of destruction and ruin, a walking temper tantrum, unstable—
“I’m serious.” Argos glared out over the growing crowd of heroes. “Leave.”
“Hey.” Rena Rouge touched down on a nearby chimney. “Break it up.”
“What… happened?” a high-pitched voice asked, and Pigella stepped out from behind a chimney. “Aren’t we all supposed to be friends?”
“We are,” Argos said, “This was just a friendly spar—”
“No… No, it wasn’t. There’s nothing ‘friendly’ about…” Vesperia gestured to the ruined streets. “... any of this.”
She was right. It wasn’t friendly, no matter what Argos said. It was all anger. A temper tantrum from a monster, monster, monster—
King Monkey perched on a chimney cap. “Sooo… which one of you’s the villain?”
I am. I’m the villain. A sentimonster. Destroying Paris for my own selfish desires, like father like son—
“Mind your own business,” Argos said, tone harsh.
“Look at what you’ve done!” Polymouse cried, gesturing to a nearby park with toppled trees, “This is our business, now.”
Heart slamming in his chest, panic setting in, more and more heroes began to appear, closing in. Chat Noir had to leave— he had to get out of here, the urge to run away and hide strong. But as he turned to try to leave, Minotaurox appeared, stomping forward, face hard as he backed Chat Noir into a chimney, leaving no room to escape, no baton on his back, and he was trapped, trapped—
“Don’t crowd him!” Argos snapped.
“Seriously. I’m confused.” King Monkey scratched his head. “Whose side are we on here?”
Miss Hound huffed, “We’re on Ladybug’s side.”
“But… whose side is Ladybug on? Chat Noir’s or Ryuko’s?”
“Guys,” Rena Rouge spoke up, “I think it’s a bit more nuanced than—”
“Are we seriously asking whose side Ladybug’s on when one of the options is Chat Noir?” Caprikid asked, exhausted.
“Uh, after that crap Chat Noir pulled with Gabriel Agreste’s statue?” Carapace scoffed, “Yeahuh. We are.”
“Seriously, guys, I…” Rena Rouge tried, “... This situation is probably a bit delicate—”
“There’s nothing delicate about it,” Carapace argued, turning to Chat Noir and leveling him a scowl. “Can you go one week without ruining everything?”
No. Apparently not. Because I’m unstable, and I’m a monster—
“Yeah, I dunno, things were pretty peaceful until Chat Noir started going all crazy,” King Monkey said.
Crazy. Crazy. They think you’re crazy, Chat Noir thought, heart in his throat as he tried once again to leave, only for Minotaurox to close the distance further. His back hit chimney brick.
Argos held his arm out, hand catching Minotaurox’s chest, halting his steps. “Back off. You’re upsetting him.”
“Seriously?” Minotaurox huffed, “How would you know?”
“Gee. I wonder.” Argos rolled his eyes, gesturing to his brooch. “Miraculous of emotion. Take a wild guess, big guy.”
“Hey!” Polymouse got in Argos’ face. “You can’t talk to him like that.”
Ryuko stepped in close, sword raised.
“EEP!” Polymouse squeaked and hid behind Minotaurox.
“Hey!” Minotaurox shouted to Ryuko, “Back off!”
Ryuko narrowed her eyes. “You do not intimidate me.”
Pigella cried out, “We’re all supposed to be FRIENDS!”
“Okay, so I’m confused again,” King Monkey piped up, “Now we’re after Ryuko? I’m losing track of who I hate.”
Argos pinched his nose, letting out a long, frustrated breath. “Maybe stop trying to think if you find it so difficult.”
“Okay, so it’s Argos that I hate.”
“I still don’t trust Chat Noir after what he did,” Carapace added, his gaze on Chat Noir harsh.
“We’re not here to take sides,” Rena Rouge said, “It’s nuanced—”
“What nuance?” Carapace scoffed, “What are you talking about? You know how he hurt you-know-who.”
“I… do… but…” Rena Rouge nervously chewed her lip.
“But what?”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathing was difficult, everyone closing in around him, trapping him, and he clutched his hand to his heart slamming in his chest.
A voice mumbled, “Guys…”
“Oh my god, can we stop fighting?” Vesperia sounded exhausted. “Pigella is right, we’re supposed to be a team.”
Yeah, they were, but everything was falling apart, everyone was fighting, and it was all Chat Noir’s fault—
Miss Hound huffed, “I’m not making any decisions without Ladybug present.”
“If Ladybug’s not here to guide us, what do we do?” Rooster Bold asked.
“Chat Noir is the second in command, of course,” Pegasus explained, “But considering recent events, it would be wise to take another opinion into consideration.”
“Guys…”
She should’ve taken your miraculous. You don’t deserve to keep it. You’re a being of destruction, a monster, sowing discord, nobody trusts you and they have a right not to, no wonder everyone lied to you, no wonder everyone thought you couldn’t handle the truth—
“So, who’s third in command?” King Monkey asked.
Rena Rouge raised her hand. “Well, technically, I’ve been at this the longest besides Ladybug and Chat Noi—”
Caprikid sighed, “Where’s Viperion when you need him?”
“Hey!” Carapace snapped, “You even listen to what she just said?”
Rooster Bold added, “Bunnyx could help if she were here. She knows basically everything, right?”
“‘Sup,” Bunnyx said.
“Wait— how long have you been here? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I don’t mess with the past unless I have to,” Bunnyx said, “I’m technically from next week. I actually slept through this. Thought I’d come see what I missed—”
“GUYS!!” Purple Tigress roared, startling everyone to attention. She thrust her pointer finger to the sky, towards an “AKUMA!!”
Startled shouts and gasps tore out among the crowd, and Chat Noir whipped his head up, catching the sight of fluttering purple wings for only a moment before it disappeared into his—
“Poor little kitten…”
Chat Noir gasped, collapsing forward onto his knees and clutching his head, the screams and cries of the heroes around him nearly becoming nothing but noise amidst the swirling anguish and the voice whispering poison into his head.
“... betrayed over and over and over again… losing everyone’s trust, when they were the ones who failed you… you must feel so lonely. But don’t worry, kitten, I’ll always be a friend of yours—”
“VENOM!”
…
…
…
…
A black butterfly flitted out of the remains of his golden bell, crunched beneath Minotaurox’s boot. Chat Noir sucked in a sharp breath and tried to scramble back— but the chimney was still right behind him.
“What do we do?” someone shouted, as Chat Noir grasped at his chest and tried to breathe.
“Ladybug’s not here to purify it!”
“It’s getting away!”
“SHELTER!” Carapace shouted, thrusting his arm towards the akuma, catching it in a small green dome. He rushed forward and caught it as it fell. “I got it!”
“Sorry, Chat Noir,” Vesperia said softly, her hand on his shoulder, “I panicked. You were only out for a second, I swear.”
Chat Noir looked down at his shaking hands, taking in the black leather, thinking about what could’ve just been—
Red skies and ash— the moon, torn in two, Ladybug— Marinette— crumbling apart in his white arms, blowing away in the wind—
“Uh…” Carapace looked around anxiously, still holding the cage of the fluttering unpurified akuma, “Now what? My Shelter doesn’t last forever!”
“I’m going to go… look for Ladybug,” Rena Rouge announced, pouncing away and taking off across the rooftops.
“I thought Monarch was defeated!” Rooster Bold cried, “How is there an akuma?”
“Technically speaking,” Pegasus said, “Ladybug informed us that the butterfly miraculous was never recovered—”
“So there’s a new Monarch?”
And they’re after me, he realized, breath catching in his throat, They’re after me. They’re trying to akumatize me. They’re going to make me hurt everyone I love, destroy everything—
You already have.
“Aw, sweet!” King Monkey cheered, and everyone turned to look at him. “... … What? Being a superhero is boring without a villain!”
“We shouldn’t be celebrating the appearance of a new villain!” Polymouse cried, “We were finally in an era of peace!”
“Uh…” Carapace croaked, “... Guys?”
Everyone drew their attention to his Shelter— where a white butterfly was fluttering around.
“Did it…” Minotaurox trailed.
“It appears the new butterfly wielder purified the akuma themselves,” Pegasus assessed.
“That’s… good. Right?” Vesperia asked.
“No. That’s bad.” Argos looked around. “Don’t you guys get it?”
They stared.
“The butterfly wielder can only send one akuma out at a time. If they got rid of one, they’re likely looking to send another.”
“Another?” Minotaurox gasped.
“Because Chat Noir…” Argos gestured to him. “... is still upset!”
No. No. No, no, no no no nononono…
Hunched forward on the ground, Chat Noir grasped his hair, trying to breathe, but how could he when everything was falling apart, when his nightmare was moments away from becoming reality—
“Ryuko and I had this handled,” Argos declared, “until you all decided to get involved in something that didn’t concern you. You’re overwhelming him, and you need to leave—”
“We’re not leaving,” Minotaurox huffed.
“Yes.” Argos narrowed his eyes at him. “You are. You have to, before another—”
The sound of a lyre chord cut through the air, and everyone turned their heads to the sound. A teal figure stood atop a distant chimney, pointing to a new pair of fluttering black wings nearing the scene. He shouted out, “AKUMA!”
“Oh, there’s Viperion!”
“What do we do?” Polymouse squeaked out in panic.
“I can’t sting him again!” Vesperia gasped, “I’m on a timer!”
“I haven’t unlocked infinite Shelters yet!” Carapace cried, “I won’t be able to catch it!”
“What if— um—” Miss Hound stammered, “What if Caprikid makes a jar, or King Monkey disrupts the butterfly, or Rooster Bold—”
“Sure,” Argos scoffed, “And then the next one? And the next? They’re going to keep coming!”
Ill-mannered child who can’t control his anger, unstable, monster, Marinette turning to ash—
Viperion leapt over to an adjacent rooftop, shouting, “You need to calm him down!”
Calm? How could he calm down right now, when he was trapped, when the akuma was after him, when imminent destruction was at his fingertips, when he was about to lose everything and it was all his fault—
“He can’t calm down with you all crowding him!” Argos snapped, “Are you listening at all to what I’m saying?”
“Man, this sucks,” King Monkey whined, “If only one of us had the power to magically make people happy or something—”
Everyone stilled. One by one, they each turned to face…
“... … Oh!” Pigella gasped, her face lighting up, clapping her hands together. “This is my time to sparkle!”
Chat Noir stiffened, vision blurred through tears as he watched Pigella push through the colorful crowd. She pranced forward with a twirl, her pink skirt swishing out as she knelt down before him. She smiled at him bright, her eyes large and kind as she said, “Don’t worry, kitty, I have a Gift for you!”
*****
Marinette’s laughter was radiant, bouncing off the walls of the hall as they turned, her white skirt swishing with the movement.
“Careful, mon chaton,” she said, with affection clear in her crinkling eyes as she looked at him, “I just know I’m going to step on your toes.”
Adrien shook his head, pulling her in closer, a hand at her back. “Go ahead, my lady. You know I don’t mind.”
She hummed, looking out across their crowd of spectators— Nathalie, Félix, Nino, Alya, friends, family, classmates, all people they loved and who loved them, dressed in attire befitting a wedding. Her hand squeezed his. “Sometimes, I think you put up with too much.”
There was no such thing, when it came to her. He loved her. He loved her with all of his heart, and he knew she loved him, too. Through any rough patch, they could make it out. They were stronger than that. It was them, side by side, hand in hand, against the world.
“You think so, Atlas?” he teased, enjoying the playful roll of his lady’s eyes. They turned in time with the song, her skirt swishing mesmerizingly again— but his eyes stayed locked on hers.
“Okay, fine. Maybe we both put up with too much,” she laughed, radiant, radiant.
He leaned forward, his cheek brushing against hers as he whispered into her ear, “Good thing we have each other to lighten the load. Right?”
“Right…” she sighed, as he brushed his lips against her soft skin. “... At least, we do until Nathalie steals you for your dance.”
“We’ll get our privacy eventually.” He beamed. “After the dances, and all the toasts…”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear Nino’s speech,” she giggled, “I can wait for Alya’s, though. I just know it’ll make me cry.”
“We cried at our vows, my lady, and I intend to cry at every speech thereafter,” he declared, “Even Félix’s, I’m sure.”
“I guess we’d better stay hydrated.” Her lips brushed against his cheek. “I just love you so mu… wha— what’s going on here? What happened? Chat Noir! Are you okay?”
“Huh?” he breathed, as she pulled away from him, her brow furrowed beneath a red mask, her stare intense. The moment his eyes locked onto hers, she gasped and flinched back, yanking her hand from his cheek as if it’d burned. She scrambled to her feet— no longer crouching above him, which she’d apparently been doing, because he was on the floor— no, a rooftop, sitting back against a chimney—
“I wasn’t— I was just checking if you were okay,” Ladybug stammered, face red as she whirled around away from him. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on!?”
I love you too, he never got to say, the opportunity stolen from him, his mouth useless as he grasped his hand at his chest, the dream fading away— the guests of their wedding now dressed in super suits, the celebration in the air replaced with bitter tension.
Everyone began to speak, their voices tripping off of each other, contradicting each other in a senseless cacophony—
“One at a time!” Ladybug spat.
Miss Hound stepped forward. “Chat Noir and Ryuko were attacking each other,” she reported dutifully, “They practically tore the city apart. And Argos was… involved, somehow.”
“I was the referee,” Argos clarified.
“What?” Ladybug gasped, spinning to face Ryuko, “Why were you fighting Chat Noir!?”
“It was a sparring match,” Ryuko said simply.
“That went beyond ‘sparring’,” Polymouse argued, gesturing out once again to the destruction, “Look at what you did!”
“It was pretty vicious,” Rooster Bold agreed. “Didn’t look friendly at all.”
“It was completely friendly,” Argos dismissed, “We were just helping him blow off steam. And it was working, until everyone interrupted.”
“Chat Noir was almost akumatized,” Vesperia added, “Twice.”
“I caught one in a jar,” Caprikid announced, holding up a jar with an akuma still fluttering inside.
“And I helped!” Pigella chirped. “Chat Noir’s calmed now! Right, Argos?”
Argos didn’t bother with a response.
“I— Oh my god,” Ladybug practically cried, dragging her hands down her face. “This can’t be happening…”
“So… are we sure that wasn’t Monarch?” Minotaurox asked nervously.
Pegasus began, “Technically speaking, since all miraculouses but the butterfly have been retrieved, he would most likely be referred to as ‘Hawkmoth’ again—”
“No. No, it’s— it’s someone different,” Ladybug said, “I told you, Monarch was… defeated—”
“But you never got the miraculous back from him?” Caprikid asked, “How is that even ‘defeating’?”
“Well, I… I…” Ladybug stammered.
“Also, for future reference,” King Monkey spoke up, “Who are we supposed to side with here?”
Ladybug whirled around to face him. “What? We don’t pick sides! We’re a team!”
“I believe what King Monkey is trying to ask is, in a hypothetical scenario where Ryuko and Chat Noir were engaged in battle and you weren’t present to assist, what would be the expected protocol?” Pegasus clarified.
“Yeah,” King Monkey agreed, “What he said.”
“No two of us will be engaged in battle, because we’re a team!” she hissed, “We’re all on the same side! The protocol is to stop fighting!”
“Are we all on the same side?” Carapace scoffed.
Ladybug leveled him a look. “Yes.”
“Because, last I checked,” Carapace said, “Chat Noir’s been causing more trouble than good.”
Ladybug sucked in a harsh breath. “No—”
“What he did to the monument was pretty terrible,” Caprikid agreed.
Chat Noir slowly began to pull himself up onto sore legs, the exhaustion from the day weighing heavy on his muscles.
“No, no, you guys don’t understand,” Ladybug said, “Chat Noir can— he’s— he’s allowed to break… wh-whatever he wants! He’s a free spirit! I’m not— I’m not the boss of him!”
“So, he’s not part of the team?” Miss Hound asked.
“No, he is!” Ladybug spat, “He’s part of the team! I’m just not his boss, because he’s my— my partner!”
“So we’re just supposed to sit around and let him destroy whatever he wants, no matter who it hurts?” Carapace hissed.
“I— Look, it’s fine, I’ll fix it—”
“You can’t fix it!” Carapace shouted, “You couldn’t fix the statue—”
“I’m sorry,” Chat Noir muttered, voice hoarse, and he could sense everyone stiffen. He didn’t look up to meet their gazes, his eyes instead locked on Ladybug’s feet. “It’s all my fault. I’m just a monster.”
He lifted his gaze to turn, meeting Ladybug’s stricken gape for only a second before he pivoted on his feet and began to walk away.
“We’ll handle it. Okay?” he could hear Argos say, voice growing distant as Chat Noir hopped over alleyways and continued his trek home. “Don’t bother us again.”
Chat Noir didn’t look back. He just mechanically moved from rooftop to rooftop, gaze low and pace slow. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to curl up in his bed. He just wanted to forget that the last week had ever happened. He wanted to forget everything.
He heard two sets of footsteps following him, and as he began to near the mansion, he forced himself to slow to a stop, peeking back over his shoulder at his pursuers.
Argos and Ryuko leapt to an adjacent rooftop, their eyes on him. Ryuko turned to Argos, and the two exchanged whispers.
Great.
Logically, he supposed that Argos following him made some sense. Félix had been at his house before the altercation had begun, and he imagined that he had more to say to him. But Ryuko wasn’t a part of this, and she didn’t know his identity, and he didn’t want her to.
Then again, Argos would probably end up telling her either way. The fact that Argos was letting Ryuko follow him home was evidence of that enough. Chat Noir scowled in their direction— but there was no fire behind it, his kindling far too damp. Instead, he turned on his heel, and continued his journey.
He leapt into his window, landing with a thump of his steel boots against the hardwood floor. As he lifted to his feet, a wave of magical ladybugs washed over the room, repairing cracks in the floor and righting the disarrayed furniture.
Apparently, Ladybug had been able to fix all the damage this time. Good, he thought automatically, feeling nothing in particular about it as two pairs of feet landed on the hardwood behind him.
“Why are we here?” Ryuko asked.
“Duusu, hold my feather,” Argos said, and Chat Noir looked over his shoulder to see the blue magic wash off of him. Félix smiled, looking between the two of them. “It’ll all make sense in a second. I promise.”
“I would like for it to make sense now,” Ryuko said, narrowing her eyes at Chat Noir, “What if Adrien comes in?”
“Yeah, what if…” Félix eyed Chat Noir. Chat Noir glared.
Ryuko shot a pointed look at Félix, who threw his hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, love! It just really would be better for you to see it than to hear it!”
“Should I do a dance, too?” Chat Noir sneered.
Félix smirked. “If you’d like.”
There was no getting out of this, not in any way that mattered. Even if he fought tooth and nail to kick them out of his room— which he did not have the energy to do— Argos would still tell her. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He wasn’t even human. Who cared? At this point, secret identities were nothing. Life was nothing. Life was meaningless. The wedding dance wasn’t even real.
With a long, weary sigh, he muttered out a “claws in” and plopped down onto the couch, sinking down into the cushion with weary bones.
Ryuko gasped. “Oh.” He didn’t look at her, his gaze instead locked on the coffee table. “I should have realized sooner. I knew your technique was familiar. … Wait. He knows.”
“He knows,” Félix agreed.
“How much does he know?” she asked, and Adrien sunk further into the couch, his eyes trailed up and to the high ceiling. How much did Kagami know?
“Just about everything.”
“Oh.”
“‘Just about’, huh?” Adrien couldn’t help but grumble, “Got any more knives to stab me with?”
“No, mostly just the two,” Félix said, “Your father was Monarch and you were created with the peacock miraculous. But I suppose there’s still some context you’re missing.”
“Why does she know?”
“She’s like us,” Félix said, and Adrien’s eyes widened as he looked to face her.
Ryuko spared one last glance between the two of them. “Clear skies,” she said, and Kagami was standing in her place, holding out her hand with her ring. Adrien gaped at it. “It’s true.”
“Who… who else?” Adrien practically whimpered, sinking even further into the cushions. He was going to fall off at this rate, his chest at the same height as his knees, his lower torso hanging off the couch. “Next you’re going to tell me Marinette is, too.”
“No, just us three,” Félix stated, walking past him towards the bathroom.
“As far as we’re aware.” Kagami stared at Adrien, and then walked over, seating herself beside him. Her eyes locked onto his hands. “... Where are your rings?”
“I’ve got them,” Félix said, emerging from the bathroom. He walked up to the couch and held them out to Adrien. “You dropped them earlier.”
Adrien stared at the rings for a long moment. His face crumpled. He threw his head back and whined.
“Come on.” Félix jostled his hand in emphasis. “Don’t make me say it. If I say it, you’ll have to do it.” Adrien whimpered and took the rings from his palm. “Thank you.”
With shaking breath and hand, Adrien slipped the rings back onto his finger, one by one.
“Seriously, you have to take care of those.” Félix walked around the couch and sat down on the other side of him. “You don’t want to lose them. And you absolutely do not want them to get damaged. Trust me.”
“I know…” Adrien breathed, throwing his head back and laying his arm across his eyes, memories of bleeding out on the floor flashing through his head. “… I know…”
“I understand that it can be quite a shock,” Kagami said, “but it does not change who you are.”
“Does…” Adrien sucked in a breath. “Does Ladybug know? About… about me?”
He shouldn’t have asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. He didn’t want to consider the possibility that she didn’t know, that her opinion of him could further sour once she learned— or that she had known, and it was just yet another secret she was keeping from him—
“Yes,” Félix said, and Adrien grit his teeth. “We told her.”
“You told her,” Adrien couldn’t help but spit, “You told Ladybug that I’m a sentimonster—”
“Don’t like that word,” Félix cut in.
“—instead of telling me?” Adrien finished in a hiss.
“Look. Here’s the thing,” Félix leaned back, propping his feet up on the coffee table, “You weren’t in possession of your amok at the time. There was little point in telling you that you were under control when you quite literally would be unable to do anything about it. All it would do was cause unnecessary suffering and turn your already bad position into a torturous one. Being aware of the commands only makes them so much worse to suffer through. Ladybug, on the other hand, could help you. And…” He gestured to the rings on Adrien’s finger. “She did.”
“That’s a poor excuse,” Adrien grumbled, “Considering I’ve had these rings for months now.”
“Yes, well…” Félix hesitated. “Ladybug told you one thing, and dropping bomb after bomb on someone in mourning is a lot easier said than done. And you were already safe by that point, in possession of your amok, and nobody was trying to take them from you. It just didn’t seem productive when all it would do at that point is cause you grief.”
Adrien whimpered and sunk further into the couch. More than grief, he thought. He felt as if his entire world had shattered around him. Everything was a lie. His entire existence.
Kagami placed her hand on his. “We apologize, Adrien. We care about you. We just didn’t want to hurt you.”
“And like I said,” Félix said, pulling himself to his feet. “The anger’s justified. We don’t blame you for being upset. That was exactly what we’d expected. … Just with more destructive powers than anticipated.”
He thought back to his initial fear and confusion upon finding out about his father— the paranoia, wondering what could be at the heart of the conspiracy. Why Ladybug would lie to him, why Plagg would lie to him, why Nathalie would, why Félix would— they’d told him that they hadn’t wanted to hurt him, and he’d thought there’d be more to it. At least for one of them, there had to be some other motive.
But maybe the truth really was that they all loved him too much to hurt him. If he tried to imagine himself in their positions, well… he wasn’t exactly sure how he would be able to bring himself to drop those bombs on someone he loved, either. He’d like to think he would. He’d like to think he’d try. But he didn’t know.
Still hurt, though. Still felt like a betrayal.
“Anyway,” Félix said, whipping out his phone. “I propose we order food. I don’t know about you, love, but I know for a fact that Adrien and I have not had dinner yet.”
Adrien’s stomach growled.
“I already ate,” Kagami said, “But I don’t mind.”
“Alright.” Félix nodded, tapping away at his phone. “Now that we all know, we can have our own little sentiparty. Maybe watch a movie or play some games. How about some karaoke?”
How could they just go on, like everything was normal? Like they were normal? Like his entire life hadn’t been ripped out from under him?
But he was hungry. He was so hungry. And he didn’t want to be alone, even if he was some kind of monst—
“Oh, and Adrien?” Félix shot him a look. “No m-word.”