Chapter Text
Adrien had many memories of flowers. From the ones blossoming in the windowsill, to the bushes out in the gardens, to the petals and stems in the custom made vase on the dining room table. But most of all, he remembered bouquets. Yellow daisies as wishes of hope and peace in the future. White orchids for sympathy and comfort. Red roses for the blood Adrien had found on the floor. Green hydrangea for the way his vision had tilted and stomach reviled. Wilted leaves for how his screams had sounded. Black. For death.
Now he stood in the rain, staring up at the sky full of darkness. The past week had been filled with massive displays of fire and sparks, dressed up in pretty colors and loud sounds to clear out the emptiness left behind in a broken city. Without them, it was easy to see that there were no stars left in the endless expanse above them.
Adrien felt small looking at it.
He had always been small. Tucked into the corner, never speaking, only spoken to, polished with expensive shine, kept untouched so his glory couldn’t be tarnished. He was the statue in the museum, the face on the billboards, the voice in the advertisements.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Nino said, nudging him.
“Am I?” Adrien asked absently. “How odd of me.”
“Dude, everything alright?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Adrien hadn’t told them, had he? No, of course not. He hadn’t told anyone.
A small brooch burned in his pocket. Maybe it’d burn its way into his soul and ignite him from the inside. Maybe then he’d feel something again.
“Is numbness normal?” He wondered aloud. “No, you don’t feel numb, do you Nino?”
“Dude, you’re scaring me.”
“Is that so?” He glanced down at his hand, at the little silver ring there. So innocent looking. “Maybe I scare myself.”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course.” Why wouldn’t he be? Statues didn’t feel anything.
Statues didn’t kill their cousins.
He hid that ring in his pocket and gave his best friend a smile. Bright, carefree. Dreamy even. “It’s Heroes’ Day, what’s not to be happy about?”
Nino didn’t look convinced, but Adrien could change that. He’d always been too good of an actor. Maybe if he kept trying, he’d finally convince himself for once.
“Come on,” he grabbed Nino’s hand and dragged him along. If they were busy, then there was no time for questions, no time for thinking. His friend might protest but Adrien could be convincing. He’d done it earlier, hadn’t he? He’d done a great job. Trick them into letting him and start conversations like there’s nothing wrong, like the demons aren’t hovering on the walls, whispering to him-
Because it was Heroes’ Day, and Adrien was supposed to be a hero.
Nino dug in his heels. Adrien was strong enough to haul him forward, but the resistance surprised him. Too bad Nino couldn’t pull him off his feet. Too bad no one could.
He stopped anyway. He could pretend, yes, pretending might work.
“What is it?”
“You.” Nino stabbed a finger into Adrien’s chest. “What the heck is going on? I’ve never seen you so- so-” He gestured wildly. “Out of it before! And I know you like to say you’re okay when you’re not, but now you’re really not okay and- and-” He slumped. His eyes were dull- Adrien’s heart rate picked up, but there was life in those eyes. He hadn’t- Nino wasn’t- “I want to help but I can’t unless you let me.”
Idiot. He’s not going to die in the middle of talking. You’re not transformed. Stop being dramatic.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he recited from his well rehearsed script. Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. It’s okay. Don’t worry about me.
Nothing’s wrong.
The brooch kept sizzling. The buzz lingered in his ears and it smelled like copper; it tasted like ash.
“Adrien,” Nino said softly, stepping closer, and no. No, no, no. Adrien backed up wildly. He could see dark curtains and hear quiet voices; the house creaking underneath their feet, too old too quickly, too young and gone too quickly. That voice and freedom in his hands and the expectations on his shoulders- heroes save lives. Don’t take them. Whatever it takes. Every cost is worth it, right?
Nino smelled like copper too.
He stopped- could he see the feralness in Adrien’s eyes? Could he smell it too? Everywhere around them, on Adrien’s hands, his face, the floor-
“Hey, look at me.”
He couldn’t look, couldn’t see those wide whites of his eyes as the color leaked out of them, hopes and dreams gone like that- a purpose and cause gone like that- gone gone gone-
“Breathe Adrien, it’ll help calm you.”
Adrien couldn’t be calm. He heard Felix’s voice in his ears, talking about freedom and right and wrong and saving the few when there were many- Adrien was the few, right? No one ever wanted to save him before, he should have- Chat Noir had a duty to the many and he needed to- Ladybug had wanted, wished, asked- Not like that- just the brooch not the life-
“Look at me, it’s gonna be okay.”
Statues didn’t feel.
He breathed, because statues didn’t breathe, and he was still, because statues were still.
Nino grabbed his hands gently- Adrien jerked but he didn’t- his hand wasn’t in his pocket but he hadn’t pulled it out, had he? He couldn’t. He needed to hide it, so he didn’t-
“I’ve got you,” Nino murmured, slowly pulling Adrien into an embrace. He went with it. He let Nino hold him, wrap his arms around him, whisper into his hair. For a moment, they could pretend.
In this world of fickle imagination, he had love and peace and a cousin on one side and a friend on the other. He could smile at the brilliant stars and endless sky. He could move freely, make decisions without questions. He could jump and shout and he was another person on the streets. No billboards, no advertisements, no statues.
But Adrien wasn’t a good enough actor to fool himself.
Nino rocked him back and forth, repeated those comforting words, and Nino believed. Nino could believe because Nino was good and strong and real. He could change the world. He could create and protect and reshape. He didn’t break.
He repeated, and repeated, and repeated the words, “You’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s gonna-” and maybe it would be okay but then he broke off. Stillness replaced soothing rocking. A hand on Adrien’s back dropped, knelt for the floor. He let go.
Wait- Adrien reached back for that comfort, like he could pretend a little longer. Not yet-
And Nino stood back up, eyes wide and white, and in his hands he held a little piece of copper. A little brooch. A little black of death.
“This is the peacock,” he whispered, eyes flickering to Adrien. “How did you-? Did you-”
“It was a misunderstanding!” Adrien blurted. “I didn’t mean to, it happened so fast and I was scared, he saw and I couldn’t let him see!”
Nino backed up slowly. Eyes so suspicious. Eyes so white. “Adrien..?”
“IT WAS A MISUNDERSTANDING!” He screamed, and he lunged- Because Nino thought- Nino knew- no one could know-
Statues didn’t fight.
But monsters did.
“Adrien! Adrien, stop!” Nino shouted as they wrestled for the brooch.
He couldn’t drag Adrien off his feet; no one could. No one ever could.
He could already see how this would end; Nino flailing, arms and knees and elbows, while Adrien efficiently cut him down and kept him still. Felix kept talking, talking about freedom and right and wrong- He’d been wrong to believe in Adrien. Nino had been wrong to believe in Adrien.
But he let go.
Adrien fell back to the pavement, cracking his own elbows on its indifferent surface, brooch in his grasp.
Nino held his hands up, his head slightly bowed. “Hey- okay- Clearly I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want to fight you. And I think you’d win anyway.”
Adrien stood up slowly. Where was the twist, the moment where he yelled and cursed Adrien? Where was the moment where everything broke again?
“Um…” Nino watched him, eyes still white. He smelled like copper.
No.
“Can I ask about- about that?” He gestured to Adrien’s closed fist.
His cheek was bleeding.
Adrien had scratched it.
He- he- there was blood on his fingers. He- No. Not again.
“I-” He looked at the brooch, innocent and tiny. It wasn’t sizzling now, it was simmering. His skin was warm where it touched and cold everywhere else. He was cold inside but it was so, so hot.
He dropped it. It landed amongst the flower petals littered the street from the day’s celebrations. Yellow, white, red, pink, and- and-
“I’m sorry.” He scrambled backwards, before he did something, before he lost control, before-
Black flowers.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Felix still whispering in his ears, about right and wrong and monsters and life- Adrien dropped to the ground, clutching his head like he could dig those words out. Maybe he could rip out the memories if he tried hard enough. Maybe if he broke on the outside too, this would all just be a dream.
“Whoa, whoa!” Nino caught his wrists, preventing Adrien from dragging his hair in an attempt to open up his skull. If he could just- If he had just- “Hey, hey, it’s-”
Nino was looking at the Miraculous.
He knew what Adrien had done, didn’t he? Could he tell? Could he smell it too?
Nino knelt down and gently held Adrien’s hands, the same way someone would hold a fragile family heirloom. Maybe a piece of expensive china. Maybe a wax statue.
“I’m here,” he whispered. Whispered like Felix whispered, but he wasn’t calm. His voice was shaking, his hands little but tremors, everything frantic. “T-talk to me please.”
“I-” His eyes were white but not green. Brown. Yes, brown. This wasn’t- Adrien wasn’t going to-
Statues didn’t feel.
But monsters did.
“I’m sorry,” Adrien croaked. “I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to what?”
Adrien shook his head and instead simply fell into Nino’s arms. He let his best friend hold him and he chose to pretend. Maybe this time he would believe it.
And if he closed his eyes, then he didn’t have to see the black flower petals.