Work Text:
"Kid, I'm serious."
"But how? I can't even say your name in case he is listening, how am I going to you know what?"
Adrien didn't even dare say the words out loud. He was only allowing Plagg to float around due to the way in which he knew for a fact Kwamis couldn't physically be detected by electronic cameras. He was also taking big enough of a risk solely by talking seemingly to himself. Even if his father discovered him and assumed he had simply lost his mind, that would be almost a relief compared to the possibility of being caught talking to Plagg.
For the first time in his life, Adrien found himself missing being locked up in his room.
Despite the coldness it brought over him even in the warmest days, how the tall ceiling felt ominous and how the windows felt like a dare, everything he knew that came with it and despised, that felt like a paradise compared to this wretched room.
He thought of the panels of glass that he had once envisioned as walls to an aquarium or zoo, making him feel as exposed and displayed as a caged feline in an enclosure that was not even half the space they needed, with nowhere to hide and nowhere to be able to take a break.
How did he long for them now.
If the lack of curtains had once felt obnoxious, he missed the sun enough that he would gladly spend a month imprisoned there. Even if all contact was to be cut from the world, if he was only to talk to Nathalie whenever she visited to inform him of his schedule for the day even if it was only comprised of hour-long blocks of "room time".
Adrien almost longed for it.
At least, in his room, he could always read a book. Climb on his wall. Run around if he felt the urgent need to let out some energy.
Usually, being locked in his room as a punishment would mean having Nathalie be the only person he talked to for as long as the punishment lasted. Even back when she was a little more reserved, he would gladly talk to her over his father on any given day.
Nowadays, though, only talking to her would almost be a prize. No awkward conversation with his father where the man would try to be a better father in a week than he had been ever since his mother was gone. No unpredictable outbursts he would have to tiptoe around to avoid.
Being locked also meant the fact that his punishment was done. It brought a consequence, sure, but if he was locked in his room it meant that was the consequence. Which also meant, something he cared about even more was safe.
If he was locked inside his room, it meant school privileges had not been yet retired.
And last, but not least, even if it was his last resort given the ever existent risk of being caught during five seconds of lucidity that would make his father go and check on him, or the rare occasion in which he apologized.
Being locked in his room meant even if the windows were closed, there was no external lock. Due to the height at which they were, it had not even crossed Gabriel Agreste's mind to lock them from the outside, not considering it necessary.
Even if the door was locked, and the windows were too, they would never stay like that for long.
Even if he chose not to, Adrien had the option of leaving.
Here, he didn’t.
His gaze saddened at the memories.
"I don't even have a window to-"
"You don't need a window when you have the Kwami of Destruction on your side."
"But if I-" Learning a little bit of French Sign Language from Rose and Juleka for when his friend could not get words out was certainly proving its usefulness again. Instead of saying it or acting it out, Adrien fingerspelled the word for "transform," and went back to speaking. "The camera- It's going to show. There's not even a corner that would not make it obvious.
"Listen, I may have misused my power many times before, but if I had to choose only one more time to use it without a Holder, it would be now," Plagg said, with the most heartfelt tone Adrien had ever heard him use.
"But the effects-"
"Maybe I could convince Tikki to create a Lucky Charm powerful enough."
"I don't think it's worth the risk." As much as he desired to get out, needed to get out, there was no way in which Adrien would forgive himself if a catastrophe struck the city simply because he could not take a rightful punishment for sneaking out when he was not supposed to.
The more he thought about it, the more complicated it became in his mind. While he knew he should not have disobeyed his father, should not have fought the force compelling him to stay in line (his conscience, probably), a good part of him felt it was too much.
And Plagg was not helping. Adrien knew, very deep down, it was too much. Was it bad enough that the literal embodiment of Destruction was willing to risk everything to get him out?
"What would I even do outside? There's akumas, and everything mine-" Slowly but steady, he fingerspelled "Father owns it."
"Think kid, what are you the best at?"
"Jokes? I don't know."
"There you go! Why not become a clown?"
"Nice one."
"I'm serious. Just say the word, and I'll Cataclysm the entire building."
He definitely didn't feel it was right.
But, he wasn't sure for how much longer he would be sane if he stayed.
~(X)~
Chat Noir knew having saved so many shop owners would come in handy one day.
~(X)~
The morning news’ team was perplexed. How had a circus managed to spawn out of nowhere in a single night?
Nadja Chamack was sent to investigate with a full camera team. While she wasn't sure what she expected, it was definitely more of a "possible money laundering scheme" or "akumatized villain" than "one-man show by a superhero".
The entrance had a hand-painted sign on a piece of cardboard that read “FREE ENTRANCE. DONATIONS APPRECIATED :)”
In the middle of a ring, stood alone Chat Noir.
In addition to his usual suit, he was wearing a bright green wig, and the gloomiest smile anyone in the audience had ever seen.
As soon as he spoke, it was evident he was more than exhausted. Drained.
How was he even keeping up the smile?
“Welcome to the Miraculous Circus! This is your local favorite clown, Chat Noir. For our first act tonight -well, today? This morning?- we have…” He made jazz hands as he pointed dramatically to a tightrope hanging a few feet above. “The tightrope! Hope I don’t fall! or maybe not,” he said slightly lower with the slightest trace of laughter.
The first few rows of the audience that caught his words began muttering to each other, concerned. “Haha, funny, right? It was a joke, laugh. It’s funny. It’s supposed to be funny.”
He stared off, his gaze lost as he muttered more nonsense following the same line, some people in the audience begging for someone to help him.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Kitty? Let’s go, follow me.”
Ladybug.
She was worried.
“It was supposed to be funny,” he kept muttering as she guided him outside.