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Chat Noir leaned against the railing of Marinette’s balcony, still reeling from the nightmare that flashed through his mind. He took a deep breath. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmured to himself, closing his eyes and pushing down the rising panic within him. He was about to power-up when he heard the trapdoor open. He whirled around, expecting to find Marinette, only to come face-to-face with…Ladybug?
“What are you doing?” They asked at the same time.
“Uhhh, well, my— Marinette’s parents make really good pastries so sometimes I come by to get some,” Ladybug hurriedly explained. “And you?”
“Um, yeah, same here,” he lied.
Well, it wasn’t a total lie. The Dupain-Chengs had the best pastries in Paris and he would sometimes come by to have some. However, that wasn’t the reason he’d been there this time. He’d been about to tell Marinette who he was when his horrible akuma-induced nightmare struck him, and he’d decided against it.
An awkward silence stretched between them on Marinette’s balcony until Ladybug cleared her throat, “So, how was the akuma? I just heard about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”
“It was sort of like Sand Boy?” Chat Noir explained. “But instead of the nightmare showing up in front of you it was mostly in your head.” Visions of a ruined Paris flashed through his mind. The sight of Ladybug disintegrating and blowing away from him wouldn’t leave his mind.
“I hope you didn’t have to fight me again, even if it was in your head,” Ladybug said, recalling his past nightmare of Ladybug hating him. He almost wished that had been his nightmare. It would’ve been easier to deal with. “At least it’s over now, right?”
Chat Noir shook his head. “Actually, since there was no miraculous cure, the nightmare…won’t go away.” He glanced at Ladybug, her brows furrowed as she frowned.
“That’s bad,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m…not too sure how to fix that.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m really sorry, Chat Noir. If you don’t mind me asking, how bad is it?”
Should he tell her? He didn’t want her to feel worse, but talking about it might help him. “Well,” he sighed, deciding to tell her the truth, “I sort of found Paris in ruins. My suit was white, the moon was ruined, and every one seemed to be a petrified statue. The worst part is you…disintegrated in my arms. You just— your ashes floated away.”
He felt tears pricking his eyes. He’d somehow killed Ladybug. Even if it was just a nightmare, there was a possibility of it happening if he got too out of control. Who knows how many others had died? Maybe even Marinette and all of his other friends and his family. He never wanted to see that nightmare become real.
It was then that Chat Noir noticed Ladybug had been very quiet. He turned to look at her, eyes wide and body frozen in fear. It must’ve been a shock to hear about her own death in his nightmare. He rushed to reassure her. “It’s just a nightmare, though. So, it’ll be alright.”
Slowly, she began shaking her head. “Not exactly,” she whispered, voice hoarse. What?
“…What do you mean by that?” What was she hiding from him? Did something like that happen? But how could it have?
Ladybug wiped at her eyes, getting rid of any tears that had begun forming. “Well,” she started, voice shaking, “there was a time when Bunnyx had taken me to a timeline where something very similar had happened. He called himself Chat Blanc and he knew who I was.”
She took a deep breath, “It’s part of the reason why I was even more adamant about not sharing our identities. I thought that if you never knew, then whatever happened couldn’t happen.”
So, it was possible. And it had happened in another timeline. He really could destroy all of Paris, and maybe even more. He could lose control and hurt the people he loved most. Chat Noir felt himself get lightheaded, taking a step back and steadying himself with a hand on the railing of Marinette’s balcony. “Oh,” was all he managed to say.
“I’m sorry I never told you,” Ladybug rushed to say, mistaking his response as him feeling hurt by her keeping this secret from him. Maybe he should’ve been a little hurt by it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. He sort of wished he never knew. “Chat Noir?”
“I-I have to go,” he heard himself say. Paris was in ruins because of him in another timeline. Everyone he knew and loved had died because of him. It was possible. It had happened. “There’s a jar with the akuma in it, I left you a voice message on where to find it.”
“Chat—“ Ladybug tried to say, but he left Marinette’s balcony before she could continue.
After some time of running mindlessly, he powered up and went back to London. He detransformed back in his hotel room, collapsing onto his bed. “Hey, kid, are you ok?” Plagg asked. Adrien ignored him, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.
The door to his hotel room opened and then he was ushered into a car. He sat down beside his father in the back seat, feeling everything and nothing all at once. When he was told to go into his new room, he did so without arguing.
His new room looked like he felt. Empty.
“Adrien,” Plagg tried again to talk to him, “please talk to me. How are you feeling?”
Like he was dangerous. Like he couldn’t breathe. Like he needed to stop rebelling because it could lead to mass destruction. Maybe his father had been akumatized when he’d said it, but he was right. That destruction he saw could happen if he couldn’t control his anger. If he kept disobeying him and causing trouble. It would all be his fault. If it happened in another timeline, it could happen again. He never wanted that to happen.
So, he wouldn’t let it happen. He’d keep his head down and do as told and control his anger. There was no way for him to leave his room anyway. No windows to escape from to help Ladybug. If he couldn’t transform, he couldn’t hurt anyone. Even if it hurt, it was better that way. It had to be.