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Adrien leaned his head against the wall of his prison cell. He stared at his hands like he remembered doing not long before he’d made his wish. He saw the stark contrast of dark red against pale white, but when he blinked, he only saw his skin in the dim lighting.
He’d killed his father. Or that’s what they’d told him, anyway. He doesn’t really remember what happened. But something had, and they must’ve had enough evidence to give him a life sentence without parole. All he remembered was thinking about all the horrible things his father had done, he’d remembered thinking how he’d been the reason he’d been akumatized and then the reason the world had ended. Because if his father had never been Hawk Moth, then Adrien never would’ve turned into Chat Blanc.
He recalled the time after the world had ended. There had been painful silence and cold. His world had been dark and empty, Marinette dead, his friends dead, just him and no one else. No one else in the world. Not even Plagg.
He had remembered when she’d come back to him, confused on why he kept calling her Marinette. She’d wanted to defeat him, he’d wanted her miraculous. It hadn’t ended well.
He’d remembered his hands being red instead of white. What had happened? When had he gotten so out of control? He’d stared at his lady’s body in front of him, her suit a dark, deep red instead of brightly colored like it used to be. If she’d just given him her miraculous it wouldn’t have come to that. He wouldn’t have had to do that. He wouldn’t have had to kill her.
But it was fine, he’d thought then, he’d fix everything. He had her miraculous and his, so he just had to make the wish and everything would turn back to normal. It would be as if nothing had happened at all. He’d thought that maybe he’d get lucky, and maybe he’d forget about it all. That hadn’t happened. Neither did their marriage like they’d planned, and his father didn’t rot in jail for all he did. At least his father was rotting somewhere.
He’d taken off his miraculous, and it didn’t let go of his transformation. He’d tried that before, when he’d first ended the end of the world. He’d thought he could let Plagg rest, and maybe if he didn’t have the miraculous he’d die like everyone else. It hadn’t ever worked like that.
With his white ring next to her black studs that were the ladybug miraculous, he’d made his wish. He’d wished for the world to be fixed, to go back to the time before he’d gotten akumatized. He’d wished that everyone was alive and well. He’d made sure to be as specific as he could before a blinding white light overtook Paris, and perhaps the world.
When he’d opened his eyes again, Adrien had been in bed, Marinette sleeping soundly beside him. She had been alive, breathing, a small snore coming from her. He’d looked over Marinette at her nightstand, finding her engagement ring. It seemed everything he’d wished for had come true. He’d practically gone back in time to a time when Marinette was his fiancée and the world hadn’t ended because of him. He’d thought the wish had worked.
Unfortunately, he had still remembered. But he thought he could just ignore it. Sometimes, though, he’d look at Marinette and he’d find her pale, lifeless form instead. Sometimes he’d remember how she’d looked at him, tears in her eyes as she’d said, “You’ll always be Chat Noir to me,” before he’d killed her. More often than not, he’d wake up in the middle of the night, screaming.
He could never tell Marinette why he’d wake up in such a state, so he always had to made up some sort of lie. Because in this world, Hawk Moth had never existed, so they’d never had the miraculous. He’d learned that when he woke up with his miraculous on his hand, and Marinette didn’t have her earrings. She’d asked him where the ring came from, he’d lied and said it was from a photoshoot and they’d let him keep it.
The miraculous was still corrupt. He’d tried to call on Plagg once, but he’d never appeared. Somehow he’d one day been able to transform, but he was Chat Blanc instead of Chat Noir. That day was a blur. He hadn’t remembered what happened, but he’d come back home bruised. When Marinette had asked what happened the next morning, he’d told her the truth. She hadn’t believed him, she’d said something about him lying to her a lot. He’d yelled and she’d yelled right back. That night she’d packed up, left her ring, and left him.
Now, he was alone once again. And just like before, he’d been the cause. Maybe he’d always been destined to be alone, forgotten and unloved. He glanced down at his hand, the finger that once held his miraculous empty. He vaguely wondered what would happen if someone got their hands on his corrupt miraculous. He didn’t care.
“Mr. Agreste,” a gruff voice said outside his cell. “We’re taking you to a psychiatric hospital.”
Adrien’s head lulled to the side to regard him. A psychiatric hospital? Did they think he was crazy? He wanted to laugh. Maybe he did, if the man’s raised eyebrows were any indication. The big man grabbed him as another stayed by the cell door.
I really am meant to be alone, Adrien decided.