Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Marinette? Marinette? Marinette! Are you still in bed?”

Marinette rolled over and pushed her blankets off as the voice of her Mom brought her back to the land of the living. Still groggy, she rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. “Why’s she waking me up so early? I don’t have to get to class until…”

She glanced at the clock and her eyes widened.

“Eight minutes ago?!” 

Marinette nearly launched herself out of bed and scrambled to get ready for school. “Tikki, quick, have you seen my shoes? I can’t find them!”

Her kwami was perched on the edge of her bed. “Marinette, this wouldn’t happen if you would set your alarm.”

“I did!” protested Marinette. “I just… I just… I just got so tired after patrol last night that I forgot to plug my phone in.”

She ran down the stairs and grabbed a muffin from the breakfast table. It looked like she’d be eating on the way to school—  again.

Her parents were in the kitchen making a fresh batch of something that smelled delicious, but there was no time to play taste-tester. Marinette was almost out of the door when she heard something that made her freeze. The news was playing on the living room TV, just loud enough for her to overhear.

“…And now we turn to the brutal double homicide of Mathew and Matilda Bruel, both found dead after an apparent domestic dispute turned deadly. Evidence indicates that they were responsible for each other’s deaths.”

  ‘Bruel. Bruel.’ The name turned cartwheels in Marinette’s head as she tried to make sense of the name though the brain fog. ‘Ivan!’ That’s where she recognized the name, Ivan Bruel. With a sinking feeling, Marinette realized that the people on the news were Ivan’s parents. As she kept listening, the reporter reaffirmed what she somehow already knew.

“Local teenager Ivan Bruel was about to be sent to a Harvest Camp after his parents filed an unwind order following what authorities dubbed the “Stoneheart Incident”. Text messages and voice messages found on both parent’s phones record an ugly domestic dispute where each of them blamed each other for signing the unwind order. Ivan Bruel remains AWOL at this time…”

“Marinette?”

Marinette let out a yelp, partly because her mother startled her and partly out of a strange mental anguish to know she actually lived in a world where these things existed. “Sweetheart, you can’t go to school like that.”

Marinette picked up her backpack. “I know I’m late again, but I really did set my alarm! I just didn’t charge my phone, but it’s okay, nothing usually happens in the first ten minutes of class and Alya probably took notes for me anyway—” Marinette felt her pulse racing slightly. It wasn’t just about being late to school, although that was enough of a problem by itself. It was also that same nagging fear that latched onto all kids’ minds, waiting in the background. A horrible little voice that asks the question “My parents love me and won’t unwind me… right?” 

But no matter what her anxiety said, the answer was still a comforting “no.”

Her father chuckled lightly. “That’s not quite what we meant. Do you realize what you’re wearing?”

Marinette groaned. “I’m barefoot, aren’t I?”

Her mom shook her head, trying not to crack a smile. “No, you put your shoes on, but I don’t think it’s Pajama Day.”

Oh. That was what she was forgetting. Marinette felt herself go bright red. “I’ll go change.”

Chapter Text

By the time Marinette got to class, everyone else was already there watching Kim show off his tattoo. 

“You do know you lost the bet?” Alix said as she leaned back in her seat. She had that spark in her eyes that always meant things were about to get interesting (or possibly on fire, depending on whether or not her latest dare with Kim involved fireworks again).

Kim just laughed. “I know, but look at it!” He flexed his arm, showing off the new addition to an already ridiculously long tattoo. It was the result of a series of escalating bets with Alix, who designed a new addition to the tattoo every time Kim lost. Months ago, the tattoo only said I LOST. Now it was getting so long that Kim’s tattoo artist had to write smaller and smaller to make more words fit.

Alya groaned. “Not again. Alix, you better stop making bets for him to lose, otherwise he’ll run out of room!”

Max took a close look at the new addition. “Aren’t you supposed to keep the bandages on? You just got it this morning.” 

Marinette couldn’t resist asking the question that had to be asked every Monday for the last five weeks now. “What’s it say now?” she whispered to Alya, who shushed her. “Not so loud, you’ll encourage him!”

Kim overheard and immediately ran to Marinette’s desk, rolling his sleeve up as far as it would go. “See? I just got it done!”

“…right before school?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Marinette took a moment to look over the entire tattoo, which now proclaimed I LOST A BET TO ALIX KUBDEL THE AWESOME, WHO IS THE BEST SKATER IN HISTORY TO EVER LIVE. The last words of the colorful tattoo were so small that they were almost getting hard to read.

Before Kim could say anything else, the door opened and Ms. Bustier made her way to her desk in the front, piled with papers and student files. She didn’t even have to look to know what was going on. “Kim, are you in your seat?”

(Kim sheepishly went back to his desk, but he still kept glancing at his arm and grinning.)

And just a few minutes after that, there was Adrien, who seemed to have just come from a photoshoot. Now that Marinette thought about it, it was a little unsettling how many of these ads had him in solid white. Than again, he did look just like he did in the commercials when he wore it. Maybe that was why he normally changed into something else before school? He seemed to be avoiding public attention most of the time.

As Adrien sat down, he gave her a small smile from across the room. Marinette hoped she wasn’t blushing, but by the way Alya was looking at her, she probably was. Maybe she’d get a chance to talk to him today. They were doing group projects. What if she was partnered with Adrien for the assignment? Maybe they’d start talking and get to know each other better, and she would finally have a chance to—

“Marinette?” Alya was lightly poking her in the arm. “Are you on another planet or something?” 

“Present!” Marinette blurted out. Miss Bustier looked confused, and over half the class started laughing. 

“I wasn’t going to take attendance until later, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Miss Bustier said as she tried very hard to keep a straight face. “I was just asking if you’ve picked your partner for the group project yet.”

Turning her attention away from Marinette, Miss Bustier addressed the class. “Remember, you probably want to partner up with someone with a similar interest or career plan.”

Chloé glanced up, rolled her eyes, yawned and proceeded to pull out her phone. It seemed she didn’t plan on doing any work whatsoever, as usual. 

Miss Bustier sighed. “Chloé, at least turn in something! I can’t give you a grade if you don’t.”

Chloé didn’t even look up from her phone. “It’s pointless. We all know I’m not doing anything.”

Miss Bustier’s face turned from exasperation to calculation as she thought for a moment. “Hmm, now here’s an idea; Why don’t I pair you with Adrien for an alternate assignment? Both of you can write an assignment on what it’s like to be a tithe.” 

Chloé froze. All eyes turned to Adrien, who looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. The class went wild.

“He told me that white stuff was from a photoshoot!” Alya whispered, shocked.

“Wait, seriously? Adrien? Our Adrien?” Rose said wide-eyed. 

“—I told you he looked like—” that was Kim telling Alix.

“ No…”  Nino said, “no.” He looked like he was in shock.

Miss Bustier dropped the file and covered her mouth with her hand. “Adrien, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret—”

Everyone’s phones started buzzing with an Akuma alert. Adrien took the distraction as a chance to slip out in the hall. Marinette couldn’t blame him.

Chloé sat at her desk, fuming. Before it seemed that she would get to weasel out of another project, but now she would have to do even more work! For once in her life, Chloé wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

She wasn’t going to do this project. She wasn’t even going to get Sabrina to do it for her, it wasn’t even worth that small bit of effort. No; she would call Daddy and get him to talk to Principal Damocles and she would get out of it just like that. She was a tithe. Her time was limited as it was, so why should she have to waste her time worrying about this stupid project when she shouldn’t be worrying about anything but her next shopping venture— and maybe Adrien. 

Speaking of which, she finally noticed that he was out of the room. Worse still, when Miss Bustier finally called the class back to order, Chloé discovered to her horror that Marinette had fled the coop as well. She went red with anger at the thought of Marinette going out to console Adrien. What did she know about being a chosen one? As Miss Bustier droned on more about the career day project Chloé stood up and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. She would probably get detention for this, but Chloé didn’t care; Daddy would deal with that too soon enough.

“Is it bad that I’m relieved there’s an Akuma?” Adrien asked Plagg, who shrugged and gulped down the last piece of emergency cheese. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, kid. Nobody could blame you.”

Adrien was so busy running that he didn’t know someone else was there until he heard a yelp as they both collided. 

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked as he helped Marinette to her feet. She didn’t answer, but when he took her hand she turned the same shade of red as Ladybug’s suit.

“Akuma report?” Adrien asked, rubbing his head. “Y-Yeah,” Marinette said, holding up her phone. “Isn’t it funny that so far, reading the report hurt us more than the actual Akuma?” They both shared an awkward laugh.

Adrien glanced away. “See you around.” 

“Right,” Marinette said nervously, “see you around.” 

Neither one of them had very far to go since they butted heads at their intended destination. Boys room on the left, girls room on the right.

“I can’t believe I smacked Marinette in the head!” Adrien said to his pocket. “I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world.” 

 “Aww, cheer up Adrien,” Plagg said sweetly, “You’re not the biggest idiot in all the world, just the biggest idiot in all of Paris, that’s all!” 

“Thanks for the help,” Adrien grumbled at Plagg. “and now, all because of a little demon I know, when Marinette thinks of me all she’ll be thinking of is two-century-old cheese.”

Plagg licked the last crumbs of cheese off his paw. “Hey kid, cool your pants. Like I always say, there isn’t any cologne more romantic than the smell of Camembert!”

One of these days, Plagg. Adrien thought to himself. One of these days. But today was not one of these days, today was the day Chat Noir needed to save Paris. “Hopefully with Milady’s help,” Adrien thought aloud, smiling a little. 

“What was that?” Plagg teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Nothing.”

“Are you suuuure?” Plagg asked, a little too gleefully.

“We shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Adrien said, a little too quickly. “Plagg, Claws Out!”

“I can’t believe he saw me going into the bathroom!” Marinette said, kicking the wall to the stall. “What?” Tikki said, a little too casually. “Everybody poops.” 

“Tikki, so help me…” Marinette took a deep breath before burying her face in her hands. “Uhghhh! I can’t believe Adrien’s a tithe. I can’t believe I didn’t know!”

Tikki flew up and gently nestled beside her cheek, “It’s okay Marinette, really.”

“No it’s not,” Marinette said, “The most perfect boy in the whole world and his dad wants to throw him away like trash.” 

“Well… maybe Ladybug can help?” Tikki suggested.

Marinette nodded, finally starting to feel steady on her feet again. “You know, Tikki, maybe Ladybug can do something about it.” The phone in Marinette’s purse buzzed again. She looked down at it to see it still ringing with updates to report. Whoever this Akuma was, they were being very noisy.

As much as she wanted to check on Adrien, he would have to wait. “Tikki,” Marinette said, “Spots on!”

Chapter Text

It was probably a good thing the Akumatized villain was just Mr. Pigeon again. Her focus had been off for the entire fight. She really hoped Chat Noir hadn’t noticed how weird she was acting, because she couldn’t tell him why. Even if she could, she wasn’t sure she would be able to get the words out.

“Do you think he noticed, Tikki?”
whispered Marinette from the janitor’s closet where she’d hidden to transform back. Her kwami hesitated, choosing her response carefully.

“I don’t think you gave anything away. He seemed like he had a lot on his mind too.”

Come to think of it, Chat Noir had been acting sort of strange. It was almost like he was stalling to drag the mission out. But that was just him joking around as usual, right? She was probably reading too much into it.

Marinette really was planning to go straight back to class, but she heard a quiet sigh coming from around the corner followed by a whisper she couldn’t make out. Something told her she needed to investigate, so she rounded the corner in the opposite direction of the classroom.

There was Adrien sitting by himself on a bench. Before she could think about what she was doing, she sat down next to him. 

He jumped several inches and she was embarrassed to realize she’d startled him. After a moment, Adrien settled back onto the bench and looked up nervously. “How… How long have you been standing there?”

“I just got here.” Wait, was everyone else back in class already? Did she need an excuse to be out here? “I went looking for you after…”

Her voice trailed off. It didn’t feel like an excuse usually did. If that Akuma hadn’t shown up she really would have been looking for Adrien. “Are you okay?”

Adrien shifted in his seat. “Not really.” He sighed. “I thought I could put off telling anyone if I just didn’t wear white to school, but…” His voice trailed off.

Without quite realizing, Marinette put her hand over Adrien’s. “We would have been there for you, Adrien. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Adrien looked down at the floor. “I really didn’t want anyone else to know. It wasn’t public yet and I just… didn’t want anyone to treat me differently.”

He hesitated, but then exhaled deeply. “My father’s doing this in memory of my mother… She—”

Adrien’s voice cracked slightly, and he took another breath before he could say more. Marinette waited, not wanting to push him any more. When he finally continued, his voice was even softer.

“She was always so kind. My father said it was what she would have wanted, but… I think the truth is that I just remind him of her too much.”

Marinette reached out and held his hand. “You’re not alone.”

Adrien softly squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Marinette. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

Chapter Text

“I won’t let you down, Emilie. I promise.”

Gabriel put his hand against the glass that separated Emilie’s containment from the outside world. He would go through with this. For her sake. He wasn’t going to let her down, not when they were this close to being reunited.

For the first time, Gabriel knew he was close to a miracle. He told Adrien he was being tithed for his mother’s sake. It was actually true, just not in the way he allowed his son to think. An experimental transplant developed specifically for Emilie’s condition might just save her, and Adrien was a unique match, compatible to her like no other. After all, he was meant to be the perfect son.

In just a few month’s time, Adrien would be brought to his appointment. The public would believe it was a memorial of sorts, just as Adrien did now. If all went well, it would only be a little longer before Emilie opened her eyes again. She would understand why he needed to do what he did. It was for her, for them. She would understand. She would. She had to…

And then the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous were activated again. The paperwork hadn’t been signed yet, and he hadn’t made the news of Adrien’s tithing public. Maybe he could have it all. If he had the Wish, he wouldn’t need to choose between his wife and his son.

And if he couldn’t get the Miraculous, well— he would still have Emilie.

“Soon, my darling, soon.” Gabriel reached out a hand and gently stroked the glass where underneath lay her cheek. How perfect she looked, silent and sleeping like an enchanted princess in a Fairytale. Only this time, the villain would wake the sleeping princess. A twinge of excitement shot though Gabriel like a bolt of lightning. Oh, how wonderful it would be to see her awake and healthy again, to see her sparking emerald eyes, feel her warm hands wrap around his shoulders, and the soft touch of her lips as the musical note of her voice whispered thanks for bringing her back. 

With this euphoric rush of excitement came a fear he didn’t want to reach the front of his mind. “What if she hates me?” he whispered, trailing his fingers down the glass.

Suppose Emile woke up, not because he achieved his mission at getting the wish, but because he had to sacrifice their son to bring her back?

Gabriel turned his back to the glass coffin of his Snow White and walked a few paces. He was trying to fool himself, and deep down, he knew it. She’d never forgive me… she’ll hate me. A part of him hated himself too, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. It was just like trying to look at their son and only seeing her face. He could almost hear Emile’s voice crying out, could almost hear tapping— no, banging her fist on the wall of her coffin screaming “How could you do this to our son?” 

It was then he felt the hand on his shoulder, unmistakably a woman’s hand….

Gabriel jumped and spun around gasping, only to see his faithful assistant Nathalie. She looked like the complete opposite of Emilie, whose soft features, petty build and blonde hair were a contrast in every way to Nathalie (not that he thought for a moment Nathalie wasn’t pretty, just… she’s not Emilie). Nathalie was the backbone of his operations, as both Hawkmoth and Agreste Industries. Without her he’d be lost and for this reason he only shouted at her for startling him instead of throwing her out on the streets.

“Good God, Nathalie!” Gabriel said, gasping for breath. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry sir…” Nathalie said apologetically. She knew he should have been able to hear her coming, but he was impossible to reach when he was like this.

“In the future it would be nice if you were to make yourself known.” Gabriel meant it to come out as a menacing hiss, but he was too out of breath for that. It came out more as a desperate gasp.

 “Again, my apologies.” Nathalie said, making her way back to the exit. She knew she should have known better to have come here. Next time she would just leave the files on Gabriel’s desk. Working for Gabriel Agreste was challenging at the best of times and even more so while he was visiting his little science project. 

“Gabriel, if she knew about this she would rather you let her rest in peace…” she muttered once she was out of earshot.

To her great relief and slight annoyance, Gabriel had turned back to his wife in her pod, taking no more notice of her than he would a ladybug. But just as she arrived at the elevator to the “sanctuary”, as he liked to call it, he called out to her.

“I need her back, Nathalie, but… I don’t want to tithe Adrien.”

Nathalie hated that Gabriel had chosen to give his only son over to have his body harvested, mostly because she felt that it was an added cruelty to the already very long list inflicted on the poor boy. Adrien seemed like he would have had it all— everything but a father who loved him— and that’s where she came in. For although Adrien’s father treated him like spare parts and his mother was for all intents and purposes dead, Nathalie was there for him. She may have been his father’s assistant, but she loved him as if he was her own flesh and blood.

“Well then, sir,” Nathalie said as she tried to suppress the relief in her voice, “ I guess we’re going to have to get those Miraculous.”

Gabriel nodded, but didn’t look up. Nathalie left Gabriel to his thoughts, now at least a little hopeful that he would reconsider his plan. If she could read minds, though, she would have been sorely disappointed.

Gabriel moved his hand down the glass and put his hand atop the glass again. He didn’t want to tithe Adrien, but he wanted Emile back more. If she hated him, then she could hate him. Gabriel could live with that  as long as she could be alive to hate him.

He kissed the sterile glass and then wiped away the smudges he’d left behind. “Soon Emilie, soon. I promise.”

Chapter Text

“Thank you for stopping in today, Amelie.” Nathalie said politely, “I’m sure Gabriel will be with you in a moment.” 

Amelie made no response to that and only gave Nathalie the tightest of smiles, then called out to her son to hurry up. “Come along Félix, we mustn’t keep your uncle waiting!” 

Félix Fathom was an almost carbon copy of his cousin, but instead of the content smile Adrien usually showed, his face perpetually looked like it had just bitten into a lemon, and instead of the bright green eyes showing kindness and honesty, Félix’s eyes gazed around the Agreste estate like a fox looking for something to steal.

“Coming, Mother,” Félix said, stepping out of his Mother’s limousine. The inside of the Agreste Mansion was typical for your multibillionaire tycoon, and fit its owner to a T. The inside was grand, elegant and stylish, but like its owner, it was very cold. 

“Have a seat,” Nathalie said, directing Amelie and Félix into the parlor, “Mr. Agreste will be along shortly.” Nathalie disappeared, leaving the mother and son alone. Félix shivered, “I knew I should have brought a coat.”

Amelie smiled genuinely, probably for the first time since she heard the news about her nephew. “I told you at least 5 times,” she chided softly.

Félix glanced towards the door and crossed his arms. “Frankly, I don’t know why you had to drag me along for this. It’s not like being here is going to change anything.” The minute he said it, he wished he hadn’t, for he saw the pinprick tears in his mother’s eyes.

“Mom, I didn’t mean-”

She cut him off by pulling him into a hug. “ I remember when we came to visit your aunt Emilie for Christmas years ago… we were sitting right here. You were a baby and Adrien was just starting to walk…”

“Mom…” Félix said softly, leaning on her shoulder and letting her keep him close much longer than he normally would have allowed.

Well done, Félix, He bitterly thought to himself, I’m a compete and absolute shithead. Félix considered himself a clever boy, and he was a very clever boy, in fact. He felt that a lot of stuff was not worth his time, but even the most cunning and self-centered boy could care for his mother, and at that moment Félix felt low. His mom was crying for the second time that week and it was his fault.

After a while, Amelie managed to wipe away her tears. After she was done reassuring Félix that it was alright and to try and understand why they needed to visit today, she was the picture of grace and composure. This almost went out the window as soon as Nathalie returned with Gabriel and Adrien in tow. As soon as Amelie laid eyes on Emilie’s beloved son, her face went almost as white as the clothes he was wearing.

For a moment no one spoke. The room had never felt as silent and suffocating as it did now. Just as Amelie was probably on the verge of whisking Adrien into the car and leaving with him, Gabriel cleared his throat and gave her a polite smile. “Amelie, how nice of you to drop by today. You too, Félix.” 

Amelie rose from her chair and gave Gabriel a hug and a quick peck on the cheek, just as she always did when she visited someone. Gabriel smiled, clearly enjoying the contact.

Amelie wasn’t just two letters away from her dearly departed sister Emilie— she was also her twin. Félix shuddered as he pretended not see Gabriel linger a little bit too long on the hug and then pretended also not to see him taking a quick whiff of his mom’s hair. Gabriel saw Félix’s discomfort and pulled back, but not before smirking wickedly down at his nephew.

Félix usually thought of himself as above it all. His intellect alone put him above having to do things he didn’t want to do, and today he didn’t want to come and see Uncle Gabriel and his cousin. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Adrien— it just was a waste of time. His mom wasn’t going to change Uncle Gabriel’s mind about tithing his nephew any more than she was going to change the stars in the sky (it often seemed to Félix that she did try to do just that). But if you could peel back the surface level and make Félix answer honestly, he would probably tell you that a big reason why he didn’t like to visit his uncle was the way he sometimes looked at his mom.

After what seemed like an eternity for Félix, Gabriel released his hold on Amelie and gestured for her to sit down. “And Félix,” Amelie said almost automatically, “why don’t you give your uncle a hug, dear? He hasn’t seen you in such a long time.” 

Félix did so just as Adrien was getting Amelie’s customary two kisses on each cheek and a hug. Amelie clutched Adrien like she was holding on to something precious and fleeting, while Gabriel’s awkward and forced attempt to hug Félix was the opposite. As both of them gave up on anything resembling familial affection, they turned their attention to Amelie, who still held Adrien like a sailor overboard clings to a lifeline.

“Aunt Amelie, could you please let me go? You’re sort of crushing the life out of me,” Adrien gasped.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Amelie said, releasing him. “I really didn’t mean to…”

 Félix noticed the tears begin to come to his Mother’s eyes again, and again, he felt this whole endeavor was beyond useless, but he also felt like he could crush the life out of his uncle.

“Have a seat, everyone, have a seat.” Gabriel said calmly, putting a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and pulling him slightly towards himself. Once everyone was seated, the tension was so thick it could be cut by a plastic butter knife. It didn’t help that Gabriel Agreste thought of style and appearances more than comfort— all the furniture in the parlor was very elegant but also very uncomfortable. It also didn’t help that Nathalie appeared out of nowhere and put another two logs on the fireplace despite it being late summer outside. When Félix first arrived at the house, he would have appreciated the warmth in the cold and drafty mansion. Now he could feel his sweaty collar sticking to the back of his neck. This place would go great on a magazine, Félix thought. On Home Decor Monthly, or Torture Chamber Quarterly, I’m not quite sure which.

It was a surprise to everyone in the sterile yet sweltering room when Félix let out a snorting laugh. In almost any other house it would have gone unnoticed, but in this room it echoed everywhere.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I’m very curious, Félix, what it is that you find so funny.” Félix realized everyone was looking at him— Gabriel with consternation, but Adrien and Amelie with hidden amusement. It wasn’t often that Félix let out a laugh like that.

“It’s nothing, Uncle,” Félix said, trying not to show his amusement. He must not have hidden it very well, because Gabriel turned to his mother and said, “Well, it seems to me, Amelie, that you raised quite the gentleman. Coming into another man’s home uninvited, laughing and not even having the common decency to tell his host what the joke is.” 

Félix visibly cringed, not at his Uncle’s rebuke but from the response from his mother that he knew was coming. He glanced at his mother and saw that she was about to say something rather cutting (no one messed with her baby).

Félix quickly tried to cut her off. “I was just thinking…” Félix said trying desperately to think of something, a lie, but what came out was him trying to be as tactful about the truth as possible— which, as it turned out, wasn’t much. “…That it’s kind of stupid having a fire going in the middle of August.” 

Gabriel’s face visibly reddened. Making the parlor uncomfortable was a part of his little scheme to intimidate Amelie into leaving, and having been called out for it did not make him happy. “Typical; a young person failing understand aesthetics.” Gabriel said, scoffing. 

“Well, you always did care more about appearances than people, Gabriel,” Amelie retorted.

Both Adrien and Félix cringed, knowing this was not going to end well.

“—and now that you mention it, Félix, you’re right. Having that fire is almost as stupid as the idea of tithing Emilie’s only child.”

Adrien seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible.

“I’m doing it to honor your sister,” Gabriel said though gritted teeth.

 “I can’t imagine my sister wanting to murder her son,” Amelie said flatly.

 “I can’t imagine her being too happy that her nephew turned out to be such a brat.”

Amelie growled like a lioness, “I can’t imagine what my sister saw in you to get her to marry you.”

 “Oh, this is getting good.”

Félix heard that from a strange little voice that seemed to be coming from Adrien’s direction (where he seemed to trying to make himself even smaller), but it didn’t sound like him at all. Félix was about to ask if anyone had heard the voice when Nathalie mercifully interrupted the argument. “Ms. Graham De Vanily, Mr. Agreste; please.” She took a small breath. “If you two are going to have this conversation, might I suggest that you send the children out?” 

Gabriel’s shoulders slumped, and Amelie sighed. “Quite right. I’m so sorry, boys.” 

“Adrien, why don’t you take Félix on a tour of the house.” Gabriel said, forcing a smile. “Nathalie, would you please step out and call my next appointment to tell them I’m going to be running a little late?” 

Félix tensed up, not wanting his mom left alone with his uncle. But Nathalie had it handled, just as she always did. “Already done, sir. I thought you would need quite some time to talk.”

 “Very well,” Gabriel said, barely concealing a glare at Amelie. “Run along, boys.”

Adrien was out of the room in seconds, not wanting to hear another word of the argument. Félix hung back for a moment to listen in, then left when Nathalie looked directly at him and discreetly pointed him in the opposite direction. He slunk off and caught up with Adrien, who seemed more than happy to get away. 

To his cousin’s surprise, Adrien let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you stood up to Father like that. His face just—” Always very polite, Adrien tried very hard to stop laughing, but once Félix joined in there was no avoiding it.

When they’d finally stopped laughing and managed to catch their breath, Adrien sat down and leaned back against the wall. “I’m actually really glad you came to visit.”

Félix nodded, not a trace of humor left. “Mom was furious to hear you’re being…” He hesitated, looking for the least wounding way to put it.

“Tithed,” finished Adrien quietly. “I suppose he thinks it’s for Mom… but you and Aunt Amelie were right. He really does care a lot about what people think of him.” His shirt pocket shifted oddly, as if holding an angry mouse.

“What do you think about it?” Félix asked lightly, as if he was asking what Adrien thought about not being allowed to leave the house on yet another weekend and not that his father was essentially trying to sign his death warrant.

“I don’t know.” Adrien looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought. “I mean… I’m not like Chloe or a bunch of other kids who think being a tithe’s great, but I don’t see what choice I have. If I went AWOL, Father would track me down. He has the resources, he has the money…” Adrien sighed. “I wouldn’t even last a week.”

“I’d take you with me,” replied Félix casually, sounding as if he had this all thought out.

Adrien cracked a smile. “Don’t joke like that. You’ll get in trouble.”

“No, really. The cops don’t patrol in the sewers—” 

He was interrupted by Adrien laughing again. “What’s so funny?”

“Félix, you’re not running away to live in a sewer!” Adrien didn’t seem to realize it hadn’t entirely been a joke.

“Don’t underestimate me.”

Just then Adrien’s phone buzzed. Félix was surprised to hear him mutter something to himself and start to run off (since when was Adrien this athletic?) before coming back.

“Something the matter?” Félix asked.

Adrien nodded. “Something just came up. Hey, listen, Félix, I need to get out for a bit. Do you think you could… cover for me?” 

Just then a particularly loud eruption of fighting came from down stairs. Félix nodded. “If they come looking for you I’ll just say you went to your room.”

Adrien nodded, relieved. “Thanks, Félix. You’re welcome to any of my stuff—” he winced and clutched his side for a moment as if something was poking him “—except the cheese in the mini fridge. Don’t touch that.”

Adrien disappeared into his room and Félix heard a window open. For a goody-two-shoes, he’s really good at sneaking out. That window had to be at least a two-story drop straight to the ground.

Well, Adrien was occupied, and he had just unknowingly given his cousin an alibi. Félix had some work to do.

Chapter Text

“I don’t know, Tikki…” Marinette said. She knew she shouldn’t be questioning this now, when she should’ve already made up her mind. She shouldn’t even be Marinette right now— she should be Ladybug. But no; instead of being Ladybug she was just everyday Marinette, quiet, cautious, careful Marinette. And in her mind she had to be, because she needed Tikki’s advice.

Clenched in her fist was an antique wooden box. Inside was a necklace, made out of something far more valuable and less common than silver or gold. From the thin yet deceptively strong cord hung a pendant made to resemble a fox’s tail. 

Tikki must have been fairly confident with Marinette’s choice, or maybe she knew they were running out of time and was simply trying to hurry her along. “Well, somebody’s got to hold it, Marinette, and if you give it to her than at least you’ll know the Miraculous is in the hands of someone you trust.” 

Marinette hesitated. Alya is my best friend, Marinette thought, but can I really give this to her? 

“You know how Alya gets when she senses a story,” Marinette murmured, “so what if she gets this and decides that she can use her powers to get close to me and expose me, Tikki?” There was a strange feeling in the back of her mind that she had already made her decision, but what if it wasn’t the right one?

But before Tikki could answer, Marinette heard a voice calling from below.

“Ladybug! Are you up here yet?”

Marinette was hoping to transform before Alya climbed to the rooftop, but to her chagrin she saw Alya’s hands on the top rung of the ladder.

“Tikki, spots on!” she hissed, forming the familiar suit around herself in a burst of light. And not a moment too soon, because  not 5 seconds after she transformed, Alya  peeked her head above the building’s ledge. She expected Alya to immediately start asking a million questions for her blog, but instead her blood ran cold as Alya began to call out to her civilian self.

“Marinette?” Alya called, a hint of worry in her voice, “Are you up here?” She stepped onto the rooftop and scanned her surroundings, narrowing her eyes a bit.

Marinette— now Ladybug—  froze dead in her tracks. Alya had recognized her voice. For a moment she just stood there frozen, but Alya made eye contact with her and pursed her lips.

“Is something wrong, Alya?” Ladybug said, in a voice that was just a little too high-pitched.

“I just heard my friend’s voice…” Alya said quietly, “…and you’re the only one up here.”

Ladybug didn’t know what to say. “Well, there are a lot of people who sound just like somebody else—”

But Alya took a couple of steps closer, looking her up and down as if analyzing every detail.

“Look. Everybody has someone out there who looks a lot like them somewhere in this world. There’s probably a girl living in New York who looks actually like you and you’ll probably never know her.” As soon as Ladybug said it, she was mentally cursing herself. Alya hadn’t even said anything about the way she looked, and now she was babbling out of nerves in a very Marinette sort of way.

Alya went quiet for a moment and then finally said, “Fair enough.” (Although, after all was said and done and the Akuma was defeated, Alya would look at Marinette funny for a while.)

“I have something for you,” Ladybug said, hoping Alya was interested in that instead of the many things Ladybug and her best friend Marinette seemed to have in common.

“For me?” Alya asked, eyes wide. Maybe she had already forgotten what she was thinking about.

Ladybug held out her hand. Alya took the tiny box, and for a moment, the world seemed to be exactly as it should. It was one of those perfect moments when the real world and the pictures in her head lined up perfectly. “Alya Césaire, here is the Miraculous of the fox, which grants the power of illusion. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?”

The box opened to reveal a necklace with a pendant shaped like a fox’s tail. (Ladybug hadn’t even needed to open the box to know what it looked like.) Alya carefully put it on, and a tiny fox materialized and flew rings around her, tail twitching. “Finally. I was starting to think Ladybug wasn’t going to get you. My name is Trixx, and I'm your kwami!”

Alya held the necklace tightly. “Have I seen this before?”

Trixx started giggling uncontrollably. “There’s no way we’ve met before in this life.” Trixx had a glint in her eye that Ladybug didn’t like one bit. She gave the fox kwami a look that was immediately returned with a smile that was almost vicious.

She turned back to Alya. “To activate the Miraculous, you just have to say—”

“ ‘Let’s Pounce!’ ” interrupted Trixx. “Just say ‘let’s pounce’ and the power of the Miraculous will be all yours!” 

“I wasn’t done explaining it to her!” Ladybug said, “You keep interrupting!” 

Trixx flicked an ear back. “I haven’t had a holder in forever! And I want to get back to it! She did great, so let’s get this going. Alya, hurry! It shouldn’t be too hard, a smart girl like you!”

Ladybug suppressed a sigh. Trixx was far to eager for this. Like a gun that can’t wait to shoot somebody, she thought morbidly. It was a little strange to see the kwami so eager for a fight, as if there would be something in particular to wait for.

Alya took a deep breath. “I guess we shouldn’t let the Akuma run loose, right?”

This was not going how Ladybug was hoping. “Wait, Alya, before you—”

“Trixx, let’s pounce!”

Alya transformed before Ladybug could finish her warning. She was in a supersuit that somehow looked familiar, like it was completely natural for Alya to wear it. The new superhero took off her mask, took off her glasses, cleaned them, put the mask and glasses back on and shook her head. “Whoa. Okay, hang on, does—” She glanced down at her hand and slowly pulled off one of her gloves. “Oookay. I actually got… a tattoo.” She let out a little nervous laugh, as if the small design hadn’t been inked there since she was nine.

Ladybug wondered how she was going to explain this. “I was right about to get to… that. We’re not exactly sure why, but sometimes Chat Noir and I sort of… remember things… that didn’t happen…” She cringed as she said this, wondering if it sounded as strange to Alya as it did to herself. How could you remember something that didn’t happen? The question had rung true ever since she started remembering those things. It was especially weird seeing Alya in her new suit, total déjà vu. 

Alya shook her head again. 
“No, no. I remember this, this has happened before...” Alya put her hand to her temple and closed her eyes, oh so familiar. 

Chat Noir was probably wondering what was taking her so long. “We’re not really sure why this happens yet, but if anyone can figure it out, it’s Rena Rouge.”

Alya — or Rena— gave Ladybug a strange look. “How did you know—? You know what, okay. Just catch me up after the fight.”

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for Félix to get bored of hanging out in Adrien’s room, so he did what was in his mind the most natural thing to do; spy on his mother and uncle to see how the conversation was going. He didn’t expect anything to change, but the volume of the argument would likely tell him how long it would be before they were welcome at his uncle’s house again.

The house was like a maze, and somehow it seemed even bigger than the last time he’d been brought to visit. He wandered the house, careful to keep out of view. 

Félix’s first mistake was assuming that wherever his uncle was, he would able to hear him. When Gabriel suddenly stepped out of a hallway, Félix barely had time to duck into a spare room. His uncle quietly opened the door to his study, and Félix recognized his second mistake. 

He had assumed that his uncle would have been with his mother the entire time.

But here he was, slinking off into his suffocatingly expensive study by himself. Félix was naturally a very curious boy (and to be blunt about it, a very nosy one). So it didn’t take him very long for him to wind up crouched on the floor of the hallway, peeking through the door at his uncle.

Félix watched as his uncle approached the portrait of Aunt Emilie (it had been there for as long as Félix could remember, commissioned from some artist who Gabriel had obsessed over at the time) and laid a hand against the canvas. Félix felt a jolt of annoyance, remembering how many times he had been scolded as a small child for bumping into, rubbing against or generally breathing on the portrait. But all of that made much more sense when the secret passage opened with a press of the hidden buttons on the painting.

The secret elevator dropped below the floor and the familiar painting slid back into place. The office was once again completely ordinary— other than being ridiculously, extravagantly expensive. Wondering if any of the pens on the desk were real gold, Félix waited until his uncle emerged from the wall again and listened to his footsteps from his hiding place under the desk. As soon as the door closed and the footsteps were no longer audible from inside the office, he made his move. The buttons clicked quietly under his fingers, and the secret glass elevator opened once more.

The elevator descended far below the study’s floor, but somehow sunlight still streamed in through a window that must have been well-hidden from the outside. Felix’s first thought was that he was outside, given the lush garden in front of him. But the vaulted ceiling and dark walls made the place feel more like a strange cathedral than any ordinary garden.

Unlike every other part of the house, the walkway to the garden was strictly functional. There was no decoration or even paint on the metal catwalk, almost like a construction site. It would have seemed unfinished, but Félix knew better. His uncle never left a project unfinished, and the only things he wouldn’t have designed and enhanced were the things that he never intended for anyone else to see.

The catwalk creaked slightly under his sneakers. There were small white butterflies flying around a large object with a glass surface. Inside that glass was…

Félix stopped in his tracks. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

“Mom?”

This can’t be real.

Félix could hear his heart pounding.

It’s just a dream.

He forced himself to take a step closer to the coffin. Whatever it really was, looked too much like one for him to think of it as anything else.

You fell asleep in Adrien’s room. It’s a bad dream.

But he knew it was real, and it took everything in him not to throw up.

Once the rush of panic and sheer horror subsided, Félix noticed the tubes and wires going out of the thing and the panel nearby tracking vital signs. Up until now, Félix had thought that in the brief time he had left Gabriel alone with his mother, he had done something horrible to her and put her in this case. But the longer he could make himself look, the more he could reassure himself that it wasn’t her. Although the woman in the coffin looked identical to his mother, she wasn’t dressed in the same outfit his mother had been wearing. It was a familiar outfit though— he had seen his aunt Emilie wear it a thousand times. 

“You’re supposed to be dead… or missing.” Félix muttered, but Emilie Agreste was right at home in her own basement, and by the look of the vital signs, she was alive or at least something halfway in between.

Another beep caught his attention, but it was from another room nearby, and Félix just had to know where it led. In all honesty, he would have taken any excuse to leave the basement. Félix had never left a room so quickly in his entire life. It didn’t occur to him that the next room might not be any better.

The beeping came from a small room full of screens. Life support?

Even with the glow of the screens and the occasional beep or ping, the room was dark and quiet. Going up to one of the monitors, Félix scanned through months of logs, notes and progress reports, none of which showed much progress. He’s been keeping Aunt Emilie down here for months? What’s the point of all this?

Maybe it wasn’t quite kidnapping if she’d never left her own home, but Félix had no doubt that some part of this had to be illegal. Nothing his uncle was allowed to do would be worth hiding down here.

After looking through seemingly endless pages of failed experiment reports and records of the same vitals (or brief lack of them, in some cases), there was something from a month or two before that caught his eye. Sitting down at the rolling chair (which was adjusted for someone much taller than himself), Félix brought that particular screen’s image front and center to the center console. On the screen was a picture of Adrien with all sorts of medical information. The screen flashed a label: COMPATIBILITY 100%.

Félix for his part had been taking all of this pretty well, but now that he had a moment to process all of this, it hit him like a brick. This could not be real. There was absolutely no way his uncle was keeping Aunt Emilie’s body in the basement.

But now that he had a moment to think, it made too much sense. If Adrien was being unwound (or tithed, but what was the difference, really?) after his mother’s disappearance and she was actually… 

Oh. Oh. Félix was sure he was going to be sick.

He had to get Adrien out of this place. He slipped back into the secret garden headed for the elevator, but to his horror it was rising again. His uncle was coming down right now.

Félix crouched behind his aunt’s coffin, listening to the slow, even footsteps coming closer. He hadn’t had to be this quiet in months, but here he was, hiding again.
 

“Nathalie? Nathalie, are you down here?” His uncle’s voice was unmistakably annoyed. 

He has his assistant in on it too? How many people know about this?

Gabriel continued his rant, unaware that the only one to hear him was Félix. “Seriously Nathalie, could you not keep that doe-eyed whelp of a woman occupied for five minutes? What is so important that you must disturb me down here?”  

Then he paused, and Félix was sure that his uncle was about to realize what was wrong. Nathalie couldn’t be down here— she would have answered him already if she were. If Adrien somehow did find this place, he would make himself known (boy’s far too honest) and Félix was sure if his mother saw any of this she would scream or faint or both. That only left one possibility: there was a rat in his sanctum, and his name was Félix.

Félix held his breath, not daring to move until his uncle finally left. Flinching at every tiny squeak of his sneakers, he took the elevator into the office again. He was careful to leave everything exactly as he found it. Maybe I can just slip out of here without him noticing. He’s still probably having tea with Mom or talking to that creepy assistant of his.

That thought was quickly dashed when Félix saw the big fancy doorknob to the office turn again. He needed to hide, but it was too late. He had barely finished closing the painting behind him when Gabriel Agreste swung the door wide open.

As his uncle stared at him, Félix tried to gage his reaction. It wasn’t hard— he had three in quick succession.

At first it was shock. Gabriel and Félix stared at each other blankly for at least ten seconds, then it was anger as Gabriel backed him into a corner with a face as red as a cherry. Félix saw him clench his fist tight and the man seemed to almost growl. Then his uncle’s third reaction was perhaps the most horrifying; he smiled.

“Félix, my boy. My clever young nephew, I should have suspected that a clever boy like you would come snooping around here.”  Félix stood stunned as his uncle playfully ruffled his hair before sitting down in the big revolving chair behind his desk. “Sit.” The last thing in the world that Félix wanted was to take a seat, but he knew that if he didn’t, the game would be up. So, he sat.

“Bourbon?” Gabriel said motioning over to a crystal decanter full of deep brown liquid. “No, thank you Uncle.” Félix said a little too hastily for his liking. (Secretly he very much wanted to try some, but he was suspicious of anything offered by Gabriel— and besides, his mother would ground him forever.)

Gabriel chuckled, “Are you sure, now? Come on, you’re what? 13 now, 14? You’re a man now Félix. Come now, I think it’s time you have your first drink.” 

Félix tried not to glance at the door. “No, I’m fine!”

“Suit yourself,” Gabriel said, pouring some for himself and looking Félix in the eyes while taking a sip. It was as if he knew exactly what his nephew was thinking, and it seemed to Félix that he was mocking him. “You know, Félix, Adrien is being tithed and it’s highly looked down upon if a tithe does anything harmful to his body. As necessary as it may be, I will never get to share my son’s first drink. Come on, humor an old man.” 

Something told Félix this wasn’t optional. He relented, but filled his own glass instead of taking the one Gabriel had poured for him.

“To a long life, and a prosperous future!” Gabriel said, raising his glass. “Drink, Félix. It’s bad manners to not drink at a toast.” 

Félix raised his glass hesitantly and joined him. (If this wasn’t up to him, he might as well see what all the fuss was about.) Gabriel drained his with elegance, saying “ah!” as he set the empty crystal glass on the desk. Trying to copy his uncle, Félix drained his, choking and gagging as he swallowed. For a second he wondered if his uncle had somehow poisoned it after all.

But Gabriel only laughed. “The taste is something to get used to, to be sure. But after a while you can appreciate it and taste its smoothness. Of course, it does take a man to appreciate good bourbon, and you’re really only a boy.”

Gabriel watched Félix, who by now felt like the room was spinning.

“How much did you see, Félix?” he asked calmly. Félix said nothing. He now understood why Uncle Gabriel wanted him to drink. There was no poison; he didn’t need it.

 “Uncle?” Félix asked, trying to not give anything up. His head was fuzzy and he felt all at once he was going to be sick. But it seemed to Félix that his Uncle already saw what he needed to.

Félix dropped his glass back in the desk, knocking it over in the process. His uncle picked it up and said with a slightly tipsy smile on his face, “I could make you disappear with a stroke of my pen, did you know that?” 

“Uncle?” Félix said, his speech slightly slurred. 

“I have connections, Felix. Men in the Juvenile Authority, men in Harvest Camps. I could make sure those keen little eyes only ever spied things far, far away from here.”  

There was a tap at the door. “Gabriel, are you in here?” Félix had never been so glad to hear Nathalie in his life. When Nathalie saw Félix slumped in his chair and the two Bourbon glasses, she raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. “Just having a quiet drink with my nephew, Nathalie. Just a quiet drink, that’s all.” 

“Mhmm,” Nathalie said skeptically, “and does his mother know?” 

Gabriel’s eyes widened, giving the scene a look as if he had just murdered somebody. “Good heavens, Nathalie, I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have asked Amelie first. Now she’s going to kill me.” 

It was at this point that Félix finally vomited, grateful for the (probably decorative) wastebasket Nathalie handed him.

Chapter Text

“Lila? Lila?”

The girl laying under her blankets with her eyes closed almost didn’t respond to the voice calling from the kitchen. Lila?…Who’s Lila? The girl groggily tired to search her mind for the name. It was someone important— she knew it very well… 

“Lila? Lila! Honey, you need to get up, you’re going to be late for school!” 

“School!” The girl suddenly remembered her name was Lila— well, sort of. She had many names. Lila was just the most convenient one at the moment. Today her name was Lila, and for many different reasons, Lila did not want to go to school today. All at once she began to summon up some snot from the back of her throat, and began to cough. Then she got up, went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, changed the faucet to hot, and gargled the hottest water she could stand to put in her mouth. For a finishing touch, she applied makeup underneath her eyes— not to hide a night of sleeplessness, but to exaggerate it. When Lila was done, she looked like she hadn’t slept in a week.

Lila didn’t want to go to school today, therefore she would not go to school today.

She came down to the kitchen in a coughing fit, and her mother (who wasn’t exactly her mother, but a foster parent who thought she had the sweetest adopted daughter you could ever hope for) came over with a worried expression on her face. “You don’t sound too good, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Lila said weakly before going into another one of her coughing fits. The trick was to half-whisper everything she said in exactly the right way. Any parent would fall for it every time, and they always did. (Although in her mind, she never really felt close to the woman like a daughter. She’d treated Lila well and had been nothing short of loving, but these homes were just means to an end. No sense in getting attached.)

“You don’t seem fine to me…” Mrs. Rossi said, putting the back of her hand to Lila’s forehead. “Hold on, let me take your temperature.” When the thermometer came out of Lila’s mouth the temperature read 38.4. 

“Bed.”

“But Moooom,” Lila said pitifully, “I was supposed to help with prom committee today and student council and-” she cut herself off by coughing as hard as she could force herself to. If this lady wasn’t convinced soon, Lila would get a real sore throat from all this fake coughing.

“Bed,” Mrs. Rossi said gently but firmly, putting a hand on Lila’s shoulder and guiding her back to her room. “I’m sure everyone will understand.”

She ruffled Lila’s hair affectionately and let out a sigh. “Just my luck that I have to go out of town today, but you are going to bed, and by the sound of your cough you’re probably going to the doctor tomorrow.” (Lila made a mental note to feel much better in the morning.) “Now get some sleep and I’ll make you some hot tea before I leave.”

Just then Lila’s cell phone dinged. She waited until she was alone in her room and then checked the phone. “That’s Stacey.” Lila said quietly. As it turned out, not quietly enough because Mrs. Rossi called out from the other room, “Tell her that Mom is telling you to put your phone on silent so you can get some rest today.”

“I will Mom I promise.” Lila said climbing up the first few steps back up to her room. “Good girl,” Lila’s mom said, smiling at her. “You’re such a caring person, Lila, and I know you always keep your promises.” 

Soon Lila was watching the car pull out of the driveway. The next hour or so was spent causally scrolling her phone, lounging on her bed. Lila felt great. As she was skimming the headlines, she felt her phone buzz. Stacey again. 

She sighed. This girl, Lila thought, so thoughtful, so trusting. It’s almost a pity. She smirked to herself before going to Stacey’s last text.

picking up the package now. feel better soon <3!

A surge of adrenaline struck Lila like an electric current. She responded: Thanks Stacey! You’re a real friend, you know that?

A few minutes of radio silence followed, then Stacey called even faster than Lila expected.

“Hello?” Lila said, struggling to keep the smile out of her voice. She didn’t know why she bothered— the girl on the other end was too panicked to notice anything.

“Lila? Lila, I need help! It’s the package you had me pick up from the post office, Lila! The Juvies were here, waiting. They think I’m picking up— what the heck, there’s a bomb squad here!”

Lila turned down the volume. Stacey’s voice got so shrill when she was panicked.

“Lila, you have to call my Mom! You said you were sure my parents wouldn’t sign the order and now the police are saying they did and they think I ran away and you’ve got to get help—”

The panic of the girl was the stuff of nightmares, but all Lila said was “Sorry kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number.” And then she hung up the phone.

Now that that was over with, Lila put her feet up and went back to scrolling. “Sorry Stacey, have fun at Harvest Camp! It’s not my fault that someone liked your eyes. Shouldn’t have posted so many selfies anyway.”

This time Lila could collect a double fee— one from the Juvies for getting another “troubled youth” off the streets, and one from that rich lady (Alderaan or whatever her name was) for having Stacey hauled off to be unwound because she liked her eyes. True, nobody said they had to be Stacey’s eyes specifically, but apparently that shade of blue was all the rage right now and it wasn’t like it was common.

The only part that really bothered her was that now she would need a new school again. She’d played this one out as much as she was going to, and now it was time to switch out before anyone realized how much she’d talked to Stacey (and Lindsey and Andrew, if you went far enough back). “Time to go shopping.” Lila said to herself, clicking on her search engine on her phone. With a few keystrokes Lila typed in “Prestigious schools in…” 

“Hmm… Where do I feel like going?” Lila tapped the side of her cheek, deep in thought. For a moment she thought of going to London. But then the fear she tried to ignore was back— her latest client was in London, the one who wanted Stacey’s eye. It’s not like the woman scared her, but she had a rule about never meeting clients… especially the ones with special orders. Never know when your own features might be considered a rare find.

She scrolled through some ads, laying upside-down on her bed. “New York… no. I want to retire there, and the boarding school job is too much publicity if it got out who the kid really is. Berlin, Bordeaux, Calais…?” She was about to settle on Calais when she got a text from a contact simply called Mom Number 2:

Hi honey! Hope you’re having fun! Dad and I miss you so much, hope classes are going well!

“That’s right, Number Two’s In Calais.” Lila quickly responded to the text and kept searching. She was technically still enrolled in an academy in Calais, but it would be a few more weeks at least before her cover story of a movie shoot would be believable. She knew better than to pretend an expensive, high-budget movie would suddenly finish a month before schedule.

By now she’d spent most of the morning in her bedroom and was thinking about taking a lunch break when a headline from some magazine site caught her attention. Apparently a promising young model was suddenly scheduled to be tithed, and the internet was exploding over it.

Interesting, Lila thought, as she read the article, as soon as she finished reading the article she did a quick search: Where does Adrien Agreste go to school?

“The Collège Françoise Dupont. A prestigious institution of the arts.” Lila read aloud. “Paris… I like it.”

It couldn’t be that hard to find a target there, especially if a kid could become a monster at a moment’s notice. She would think of it as a working vacation.

Chapter Text

“So we’ll put the dessert bar here as soon as we can find someone competent enough to run it…” Chloé patrolled the hotel’s luxurious ballroom like a tyrant surveying an unruly territory. Behind her was a clipboard balanced precariously on a very large pile of boxes, underneath which was a very small redheaded girl.

“Chloé, if you need a dessert caterer, what about the Dupain-Ch—”

“No way, Sabrina!” Chloé cut her off, putting another box on top of the stack. “I know you didn’t just suggest that place.”

Sabrina sighed, knowing better than to argue. She really didn’t want to pick a fight with Chloé, especially not now. “Where did you want these?”

Chloé glanced up. “Hmm? Oh, right. Those go on the balcony, except the box in the middle. Put that back in my room. It’s not time to use it yet.”

Sabrina groaned. She’d been hauling boxes all day, most of which had to be brought up and down the stairs because only Chloé knew where they all went and Chloé refused to set foot in the service elevator when any guests might be in the lobby. She set the boxes down on a small table, rubbing her sore arms. “Hey… Chloé? Maybe we can take a break?”

Chloé looked stunned. “There’s no time for that, Sabrina! Everything has to be utterly perfect for the party of the decade.”

Sabrina tried to figure out how to phrase this. “I know how important it is, but… your tithing party isn’t for over a month. I don’t think it has to be ready right now.”

Chloé scoffed. “Obviously this is for the rehearsal. We have to make sure everyone knows where they’re supposed to be.” (Sabrina wondered how much of that comment was directed at her.) “Hold that thought, I think I finally got through.”

Sabrina sat down and laid her head on the table, not making a sound as Chloé put the phone to her ear and had a long argument with the person on the other end. She really did care about how the tithing party went, but that was only because it was important to Chloé. Sabrina hated having to help with an event that did nothing but remind her that in less than two month’s time, she was going to lose her best friend.

Sabrina had always been what some people would call shy and what others would call (usually behind her back) a doormat. Making friends had never been easy, but it got so much worse as kids she knew got old enough to be unwound. Nobody wanted to risk upsetting the kid whose dad was a cop, but being unwound was no threat for a girl who was raised as a tithe. Sure, Chloé was… abrasive, but they’d been close since they were old enough to write. After Chloé was gone, she’d be lucky to get someone to even talk to her…

“Ugh!” Chloé’s frustration huff snapped Sabrina out of her thoughts. Chloé was off the phone, and from how red her face was Sabrina could tell someone had just hung up on her.

Chloé shoved her phone into her pocket so hard that she nearly tore it from the seam. “Mom’s secretary. I wish she would just fire that guy already. He never lets me talk to her!”

(Both Chloé and Sabrina knew it wasn’t the secretary’s fault, but Chloé hated talking about that.)

Sabrina hugged Chloé, who let out a long sigh. “I just… Sabrina, do you think she’ll actually come?”

Sabrina wanted to tell Chloé that of course her own mother would come to her tithing party to see her off, but she didn’t want to lie to her. Even worse, she could get Chloé’s hopes up for something that almost definitely wouldn’t happen. It was the first birthday in years that Chloé didn’t actively avoid talking about, and Sabrina wasn’t about to let anything ruin it, even if she was close to crying herself.

“I’ll be there, Chloé. I promise.”

Chloé paused for a moment, and looked Sabrina dead in the eyes. For a moment it was like everything in Chloé’s seemingly superficial mind came to the surface. It was all visible in her eyes; all the fear and loneliness, anger at her mother, at the situation, at the world. Sabrina was the only one there to see all these things, and  Chloé saw that she saw all those things. Sabrina wanted to throw her arms around her and cry and she was pretty sure that in that brief instant that Chloé wanted to do the same thing, but the moment was over before it could truly begin. 

“Sabrina! I thought I told you to take that package to my room?” Chloé said, roughly picking up the package that was supposed to be in her room and shoving it roughly into Sabrina’s hands. Sabrina blinked at Chloé’s hurricane-like mood swing. “Chloé… I was… just thinking…” 

Chloé practically growled. That’s never a good sign, Sabrina thought.

“I’m sorry Chloé, I’ll go do that now…” Sabrina said meekly, Chloé nodded before turning her back on her. Just like a scolded puppy, Sabrina scurried out of the vast ball room, but her exit just as she took the first steps through the door, she heard a small sound. Sabrina turned around to check on Chloé, who was now sitting down at one of the many tables with her head in her hands. No matter how many people thought Chloé never cared about much, Sabrina would have sworn before a court (which a police officer’s daughter did not take lightly) that she heard the sound of someone crying.

Sabrina took the elevator to the floor she needed, then wandered around the halls lost in thought. She wasn’t even heading to Chloé’s room anymore, just taking in every detail that she knew like the back of her hand. Ever since she was a little girl, Sabrina had spent so much time at the hotel with Chloé that her family joked about the hotel being her personal resort. She knew the way around it as easily as she knew her school.

It was strange to think that in a few more months she wouldn’t come here again. She knew she was only allowed in here because Chloé would tell off anyone who tried to kick her best friend out. By this point most of the hotel’s staff knew Sabrina by name, but they also knew she wasn’t staying there.

It’s not like she would want to be here by herself anyway. It would just be another empty hall to sit in by herself, watching other people go by.

Don’t think about that, Sabrina told herself, taking a seat on one of the elegant but identical benches between elevators that were designed more for decoration than comfort. She still needs you right now. If she was being honest, maybe Chloé didn’t really need her as much as she needed Chloé.

Sabrina shook off her anxiety (or tried to) and headed to Chloé’s room. It wasn’t until she got there that she realized she left the package on the bench.

Sabrina groaned, leaning against the door. She could already imagine Chloé’s reaction.

“You lost it?! Really, Sabrina, it’s not that hard to find your way around. What do I need to do, keep you on a leash?” 

Sabrina huffed at the thought of it. She knew she tolerated quite a lot, but today Chloé had been bad even for her. It was one of the rare times that Sabrina was starting to get sick of Little Miss Chloé Bourgeois. In Sabrina’s mind that was even worse, because she was one of the only people on the planet to know exactly why Chloé was like this.

It made the most sense to just start by going back the way she came, but she was exhausted and the hallways looked like mazes to her now. Sabrina sat on the floor, leaned against the door to Chloé’s room and began to cry. A little part of her scoffed at herself, Why should you care if you lost one box? She can buy a hundred of them with whatever’s in her pocket. Besides, all she does is treat you more like a servant than a best friend. But Sabrina still knew that she would miss her. 

Sabrina spent a long time sitting on the floor of the hotel’s hallway tracing patterns into the carpet. If she had looked up at the ceiling for a second, she might have seen the elegant black butterfly before it was close enough to cast a shadow over her hand.

As the butterfly landed on her chest, Sabrina felt an intense jolt of pain. It was like her mind was a spool of thread being pulled faster and faster and faster until nothing was left. But after a couple of seconds it stopped, replaced with tranquil peaceful calm. In a moment, everything was washed away with only a faint flicker of awareness that she was still here. Then the voice came…. 

“I can see your pain… Your agony… Your loneliness…  You feel invisible, don’t you? Like there’s nothing you can do? Well let’s channel that, shan’t we? Your name is Sabrina no longer, it’s Vanisher… Do what you want and your powers are yours to keep. I only ask one thing… Bring me the Miraculous of Chat Noir and Ladybug…”

Sabrina Raincomprix disappeared in a rush of purple.

“Hawkmoth has spoken.”

Sabrina felt less like herself than she ever did— Sabrina felt more like herself than she ever did— She wasn’t Sabrina anymore, she was Vanisher… and nobody could stop what she couldn’t see coming.

Chapter Text

“Okay, what about… skating at the pool… and whoever gets kicked out first loses?” Kim said, stretched out on the couch with his feet up. It was Friday afternoon, and every Friday since they were in kindergarten, Kim and his best friend Alix always slept over at each other’s houses. Most of the sleepovers were spent planning the next dangerous and outrageous stunt.

Alix shook her head at this suggestion. “You like the pool too much to do that. What about a bike race? We never bike race anymore.” Alix crossed over to the couch where Kim was sitting and moved the tablet that he was using to scroll though skateboarding videos, making him stare at her puppy dog face. “You’ve outgrown your old friend Alix? Is that it?” 

Kim rolled his eyes and playfully shoved her out of the way. “I’ve got a flat tire again. And you gotta keep your bike in good condition cause you have a legit race next month. What about paintball?”

“Didn’t we do that three tattoos ago?”

“Oh yeah.” Kim said morosely. He liked danger, he liked speed, he liked showing off but at the moment it seemed that they were running out of stuff to jump over or outrun. Alix knew Kim had been interested in playing games with the Akumas who kept popping up at their school lately, but playing with them was even a little to risky for her. She gulped at the memory of what Kim’s idea of ‘fun’ had been lately. As soon as Kim saw an Akuma, he would go up to him or her and make small talk— if small talk included the strange assortment of things he came up with.

At first it had been sort of funny, like when Max was the Gamer and Kim confessed to eating a cookie out of Max’s lunch when they were seven. The kind of things he usually brought up were unbelievably minor. It stopped being funny when Kim started trying to chase down Akumas and he almost inadvertently got killed the last two times. He had to be rescued more than once. And the last time he did Ladybug didn’t look very happy. 

He even tried when the new girl got Akumatized, even though he hadn’t known her for more than a few hours. It ended up with him standing there trying to think of something until someone made him go inside.

Anyone who didn’t know Kim very well brushed it off as one of his quirks, Kim being plain old stupid thrill chasing Kim, nothing to see here. Alix knew better, though. No matter how many times someone told Kim he couldn’t have known, he was convinced what happened to Ivan was partly his fault. In his own way, he was just trying to stop the Akumas too. And help the kids trapped inside, the way he wished he could have helped Ivan…

Alix knew Kim was still kicking himself about Ivan, and she wanted to help him. Whenever he got his mind set on something, he wouldn’t drop it unless he found something else to do. One good distraction might be all he needed to snap out of it and if it worked well enough, he might finally get his mind off things.

Besides, Alix was bored.

“I got it!” Kim was yelling now, which he always did when he got excited. Even if her ears hurt, Alix was happy for him. “You know those things where someone jumps a motorcycle over a— well, who cares what’s being jumped as long as it’s big. We should do that!”

“Kim. Neither of us can drive, so a motorcycle’s pretty much a deal breaker.” He looked so dejected that Alix quickly added, “Besides, I’m fast enough to pull off a jump without an engine to back me up.”

Kim started drawing an obstacle course full of ideas, all of which were incredible and most of which were impossible to build. “What do we do for the ramp? I don’t have one.”

“Dad’s unpacking some stuff for the museum. I bet we could build a pretty sick ramp out of the crates when he’s done with them.”

Kim finally perked up. “You mean those big ones that are half the size of you? Bet you can’t pick up enough speed to jump over a whole bunch.”

Alix grinned. “Better think again. If you need me, I’ll be picking out some new words for your tattoo.”

“Oh, you’re on!”

Chapter Text

“I told you you needed to stay warm.” Tikki’s voice echoed in Marinette’s head like an annoying bug. She gritted her teeth, both in annoyance at Tiki’s advice coming back to haunt her (and being absolutely right as usual), and the aggravation at just being out here. It was a Tuesday night, a school night and a bitterly cold one at that. She should have been in bed.

Usually she would give herself time off patrols. Tonight it was Chat Noir’s turn to patrol. He was the one who thought of creating a schedule so both of them would have night off to rest. She had tried that, she really had, but the dreams… oh, the dreams…

“Fancy seeing you out, M’lady!” 
Ladybug nearly jumped out of her skin as Chat Noir dropped down from the ledge of a higher building to land on the rooftop next to her.

 “Look what the cat dragged in,” Ladybug said flatly. Usually she would have found this annoyingly endearing, but right now she really wasn’t in the mood.

Chat Noir leaned back on his staff, the way that always looked like he could lose his balance any second. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be your night off?” 

“Mind your own business, Chat Noir!” Ladybug snapped. The startled look on his face made her instantly regret it. 

She sighed. “I’m really sorry, kitty. It’s not you.”

She didn’t want to tell him what made her come out here. She didn’t want to tell anybody the things she was thinking of right now. Just thinking about them herself made her feel like she was crazy. She hadn’t told anyone— not her parents, not Alya, and certainly not Chat Noir. They’d talked about it— sort of— but neither of them ever told the other about something this… vivid. “I just…”

“Want to be left alone.” Chat finished, turning to leave, “Don’t worry, I understand.” He was about to give her some space, but as he turned to go he heard something that both surprised and made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

 “Actually,” Ladybug finally said, “could we go on patrol together instead?”

Chat Noir flashed a Cheshire-cat grin. “Like a date?”

“Don’t press your luck,” she said, smiling back. The two of them bounded off across the rooftops, and for a while it could have been any other night.

The patrol went smoothly until the two leaped onto a roof that belonged to a trendy cafe about half a stride from the river. The spot was nothing to either of them— very pretty perhaps, but other than that unremarkable. But now both heroes stood unmoving on the rooftop, transfixed as they stared at a cluster of tables by the river. Without even thinking about it, Chat Noir took Ladybug’s hand and gave it a small squeeze.

It wasn’t Ivan’s fault. The thought hit him like a train. Now that someone got Akumatized maybe every week, everyone just sort of… got used to them. If he just hadn’t had been the first one, then his parents wouldn’t have freaked, and that unwind order never would have been signed. A shiver ran down his spine.

 “Are you okay?” 

Chat Noir turned to look at Ladybug, who seemed to realize they were holding hands at about the same time he did.

“Never better, Milady!” he blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. Ladybug usually would have rolled her eyes, but instead she softly said, “Ivan and Mylene were supposed to go on their first date today.”

 “I know.” Chat Noir said, finally letting go of her hand and pointing out to one of the chairs. “They sat right over there this afternoon too, they both got coffee and both-”

“Couldn’t keep their eyes off the ducks.” Ladybug said. “But that didn’t happen though,” Chat said, “because Ivan’s…”  

“Unwound.” Ladybug finished for him.

Just hearing the word cut Adrien to the core, like the scalpel that he knew would tear him apart for real in few month’s time.

“Are you okay, Chaton?”

Ladybug’s voice snapped him out of it for a moment. She was looking at him and suddenly he was very acutely aware that he was holding her hand very tightly.

“It’s just that…” He briefly considered telling her every single thing he could remember, who cares if it blew his cover. But telling her who he was would mean she’d realize she only had a few months at the most with him as her partner, and he couldn’t bring himself to make this worse for her.

So he forced a smile that probably came out as more of a wince. “It’s just really cold out here.”

She laughed, which was a relief. “My kwami told me to wear something warm under the suit.”

“Mine said the same thing.” Technically it was more along the lines of “don’t hog all the blankets if you come back as a catsicle” but he was pretty sure what Plagg meant.

But Ladybug being Ladybug, she wasn’t about to leave the issue alone. “These… I don’t know, the memories—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Chat Noir blurted out. Immediately he wondered if that was the wrong thing to say, but she took it in stride.

“I know, but… I’m going to see a friend tomorrow and ask what’s going on. He might know something.” She blushed a bit, seemingly realizing they were holding hands.

Chat Noir let go of her hand and gave the empty table another sad look. “I think I need to go. Can you… finish the patrol for tonight on your own? I’ll take your shift twice next week to make up for it.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just finish tonight and you can go rest.”

She meant it, too, which made it even worse. She wouldn’t say a word about how he was making her handle this by herself before she even had to. “You know you can always talk to me, right?”

He couldn’t. “I know, Milady. I’ll always have your back too.”

And with that, he disappeared into the night.

“What am I doing?” Adrien mumbled to Plagg after he detransformed.

The kwami perched on his head. “Right now, I’d say you’re talking to yourself instead of sleeping.”

Adrien sighed and collapsed onto his bed. “I meant with Ladybug! She’s trying to figure everything out and I leave her by herself? I should go back out there.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Plagg floated down to his spot on Adrien’s pillow, where he’d started sleeping once the nights got cold. “Besides, even if you wanted to, you can’t.”

Adrien sat bolt upright. “What do you mean I can’t?! Is something wrong?”

Huffing at the interruption, Plagg got an especially smelly piece of Camembert from the minifridge and sat on the bed again. “You just changed back. I need to eat and you need to rest. Now go to sleep.”

Adrien reluctantly got under the blankets, not even bothering to change into pajamas first. With how exhausted he was, it was amazing that he remembered to take his shoes off. “Hey… Plagg?”

The kwami wolfed down the entire piece of cheese in one bite. “Yeah, kid?”

“You’re going to be okay, right?”

Plagg gave him a weird look, then realized what he meant. “Just get some sleep, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t risk someone finding you, okay? I don’t want you to be in danger.” 

Plagg scoffed. “I’m the kwami of Destruction. I AM the danger.” 

Adrien smiled. “Goodnight, Plagg.”

He felt Plagg curl up against the top of his head. “ ‘Night, kid.”

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight,” Ladybug said, not even trying to hide her exasperation. She had a pounding headache from dealing with this little crisis that came out of the woodworks right in the middle of Math class. There goes my B average for the semester…

“There are no Akumas in the hotel?” Ladybug asked for the tenth time in the last half hour. 

“Of course not, duh! Look around here Ladybug! Don’t you think if there was an Akuma you would have seen it by now?” Chloé was, as usual, worse than having no help. And worse still, Ladybug knew she was lying.  

“Why are you even here again?” Chloé asked, subtly putting herself in a position that directly blocked Ladybug and Chat Noir’s path into the hotel room they were trying to enter. 

“Because we’ve been getting complaints, a lot of complaints that the hotel is ‘haunted’,” Chat Noir said, making the air quotes with his hands. “And even if this city of all places probably is, lately when there’s been any kind of trouble like this it means an Akuma is on the loose.” 

Chloé’s eye twitched for a moment, but then she seemed back in control. “There is no Akuma here. If there was, then I would be the first to know. This is MY Daddy’s hotel. I’ve lived in it all my life, and I haven’t seen anything.”

There was a loud crash from a nearby room. Chat Noir raised an eyebrow. “How about hear anything?” he asked. Ladybug couldn’t help herself from snickering. 

Chloé looked flustered. “Not my fault if somebody won’t keep it down.” Chat and Ladybug took a couple of steps forward.

Chat Noir kept a hand on his staff and inched down the hall, but Chloé stepped right in front of him. “You know… Has anyone ever told you you’re kinda cute?” She looked him up and down. “In a sort of… unpolished, alley cat kind of way.”

“Oh. Um… thanks?” Chat’s cheeks turned bright red. “I… don’t know what to say…”

Ladybug shot her partner a look and stepped past Chloé. “Come on, kitty. She’s just stalling.”

“Ladybug, wait!” Chloé’s eyes widened and she tried to stand in front of both heroes, but she wasn’t big enough to block the whole hallway. “I just remembered I have something for you to autograph—”

“Seriously Chloé, come on—”

“You can’t just go around looking through guest’s rooms! Security will throw you out if you do!”

Chat Noir slipped past her almost effortlessly. “But it was hotel security who asked us to come here!”

Chloé was now standing in front of a room, trying to block the doorknob. “That’s private! You can’t go in—”

A little rougher than she’d meant to, Ladybug pried Chloé from the door and kicked it down.

“Wow.” Chat Noir stuck his head through the doorway, then pulled out his baton and stepped inside. “Either this is the Akuma, or someone threw a huge party in here.”

Ladybug had never seen a hotel room so completely trashed. The TV had been pried off the wall and slammed into the floor. Both beds were unmade and every scrap of fabric that could be peeled off anything was twisted into a makeshift rope shoved under a table. The lamp was lodged in the ceiling. “Chat… what kind of parties are you going to?”

Maybe it was her imagination, but he might have flinched. “Oh… you know, the usual kind.”

Several uncapped markers were scattered on the floor under a wall of graffiti. Ladybug picked up a marker and touched the tip. “It’s not completely dried out yet. This just happened.”

Chloé tried to avoid Ladybug’s eyes as they both got a better look at the graffiti. All of it appeared to be some horribly distorted rendition of Chloé’s name. The worst of it was in the bathroom, with Chloé’s name written in bright red. Whoever this Akuma was had flooded the bathtub and the water had sprayed the red lettering so it looked like Chloé’s name was written in dripping blood. Another line was scrawled inside the bathtub, but it was so smeared with water that all she could make out was “in pieces”.

 Ladybug crossed her arms and turned to Chloé, who was standing in the doorway of the flooded bathroom. “Something you want to tell us?”

“I haven’t found them yet.” Chat Noir called from the living room. He moved himself into position so he was blocking the door. That Akuma wasn’t going to just walk out when their backs were turned. Just as he was about to settle for a long day of guard duty, every muscle in his body tensed. “The only place we haven’t checked is…”

All three of them slowly turned to look at the closet door.

Ladybug went to get it, but Chloé wedged herself in the way once again.

Ladybug groaned. “Look, I don’t even want to know what you did to get someone Akumatized this time—”

“That’s so unfair!”

“—but for once, stop getting in the way and just let me do my job, and clean up YOUR mess.”

Chloé stepped aside, looking as if she’d been slapped. Ladybug threw open the closet door to reveal… an empty closet.

Chloé seemed shaken for a moment, but then crossed her arms. “I told you there was nothing in there.”

Ladybug pointed at a cluster of dents in the wall. “Then where did that come from?”

Chloé gasped, just a little too dramatically. “I can’t believe it! Someone damaged the walls and checked out without saying anything.”

“Chloé, seriously—” Chat Noir stopped in his tracks and yelped as his arm shot out in front of him without warning.

“Chat, what are you doing?” Ladybug watched with annoyance, then confusion and then horror as her partner struggled against an invisible force.

Chloé yelped. “She’s after your ring!” Grabbing a blanket off the floor, she threw it in Chat Noir’s direction. It settled over him along with the silhouette of someone just a little smaller, who seemed to be trying to wrench his hand in their direction.

Ladybug lunged at the second figure, knocking them away from Chat Noir. Unfortunately for her, the invisible thief shook the blanket off and (judging by the sound of footsteps) ran for the door.

Chapter Text

“Nathalie! Nathalie!” Gabriel pressed the red button under his desk for at least the tenth time in the last two minutes. Still, she didn’t come. This was just another low note on top of an already very bad day. (It was almost insulting how fast Chat Noir and Ladybug had taken down this morning’s Akuma, even if it was Mr. Pigeon.)

 It was 8:30. He always took his coffee at 8:00. Nathalie would bring his coffee to his office, and set it down with the morning paper and the to-do list for today. What is keeping that woman? Gabriel thought, he then looked out his window to see Adrien hurrying along the street, hair messy with something besides his tithing whites on. A cold flash of rage filled Gabriel, first at Adrien for deliberately disobeying him and another at Nathalie for letting him go out like that. 

“I’ll have that woman’s head on a plate!” Gabriel raged as he stalked out of his study and down the grand hallways of his mansion, his mood worse with every passing step.

He at last came to Nathalie’s bedroom and proceeded to pound on Nathalie’s door three times, hard. “Nathalie! Nathalie! You had better either be at death’s door or dead in there or so help me God!” 

Nathalie’s response just made him more angry. “I’m sick Gabriel, please go away.” She didn’t sound sick to him, she sounded just fine. Instead of answering her, he took his fist and punched the heavy door as hard as he could.

Through the other side of the door, Nathalie heard a loud bang as the door rocked on its hinges from the force. Nathalie didn’t scream, just rolled her eyes and sighed. “Now I’m going to have to take that old fool to the hospital for a broken hand.”

Gabriel was just deciding if he was angry enough to make another attempt when a beautiful streak of lavender flew out of his pocket and came to rest right in front of his face. Nooroo, the Kwami of the Butterfly Miraculous, was trying to tell him something.

“Out of my way!” Gabriel snapped harshly.

 “Master,” Nooroo said sadly, “please don’t do that again.” It was just then that Gabriel noticed his hand was throbbing horribly where he hit it, turning an unnerving shade of purple across his knuckles.

“I said out of my way!” Gabriel said, now trying to use the weight of his shoulder to force the door open.

“Master, please, stop…”

Gabriel watched as the Kwami floated there in mid-air, apparently trying to decide if what he was going to say next was worth risking his holder’s anger.

“Well?” Gabriel said, “Out with it!” Nooroo sighed, zipping back inside Gabriel’s pocket to produce the master key to the mansion. Gabriel felt very silly to say the least. 

“Uh… Thank you, Nooroo…” The Butterfly kwami beamed a smile at him for this rare bit of praise. As he unlocked the door, Gabriel cleared his throat. “Nooroo, go back to my pocket. I need to speak to Nathalie alone.”

Nooroo did so, but before Gabriel could go in he heard a small whisper from his pocket. “You’re not really going to cut Nathalie’s head off, are you, master?”

Gabriel’s very pale face went very red. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nooroo, of course not. I was very upset on the way down here.”  In truth Gabriel had calmed down a bit on the way down, but Nooroo could never tell how far he was willing to go anymore, especially if his plans weren’t going well.

What Gabriel saw when he opened the door surprised and alarmed him. Even if it wasn’t like her at all, he’d envisioned Nathalie was not in her bed lounging around. Instead, the first thing he noticed as his eyes adjusted to the dim light was the bed. It was unmade, which was very un-Nathalie-like. The second thing he noticed was Nathalie’s voice, which came from below him from the floor and sounded both annoyed and tired.

“Well, Gabriel, you’ve found me.” 

Gabriel looked below him to find Nathalie lying on the floor. It was then he finally noticed that she hadn’t turned the lights on. Everything was pitch black except for the reading lamp beside Nathalie’s bed. 
It still didn’t sink in until Gabriel turned on the overhead light on. When he looked down, his hard expression softened as he saw Nathalie sprawled on the floor with her kwami, Duusu, tugging at her hand in a vain attempt to help her up. Her face was white as death and she had a pained expression on her face.  

“Nathalie?” Gabriel asked, forgetting all about his coffee and rushing over to her.

“My purse, on my desk. I need it… there’s a bottle of pills inside. I… can’t move without them.”  

With a grim sense of determination, Gabriel did as she asked of him, returning with the little bottle. He had to fumble with the lid a couple of times to get it to open. All the while he felt that Nathalie was watching him and judging him as the mighty Gabriel Agreste, richest man in Paris, mastermind of all the Akumas, struggled to open a plastic bottle of pills.

When he finally did get them open, he helped her sit up, and she took them without any water. Nathalie grimaced as they went down, but within a couple of minutes she began to twitch her fingers and in another minute stretched her legs. Then she got up and went to her bathroom, took a small cup from the cabinet and got some water from the faucet to take the taste of the pills away.

Something about her unsteady walk brought back memories that Gabriel had tried very hard to forget. He tried to force down the rush of fear in his mind at the all-too-familiar symptoms. “Nathalie? What’s?-”

“I have a wasting disease, Gabriel,” she said at the mirror as she splashed some water on her face, a small wry smile playing on her lips. “The doctors have never seen anything like it. I can’t say how I got it, but to be perfectly frank, I have a feeling that being around all the Akumas and Miraculous has done it.”

“I told you we should have waited to bring out the Peacock Miraculous until we could find a way to fix it.” Gabriel glared at the small ornamental brooch on Nathalie’s nightstand as if it was a poisonous snake.

“We didn’t have time, Gabriel.” Nathalie gripped the edge of the sink tightly and stood up, but started to stumble once again. Gabriel went to her and gently put Nathalie’s arm around his shoulder, supporting her as she made her way back to the bed.

“What’s the prognosis? Are you going to die?” The questions slipped out without him really thinking about it. He almost regretted asking it… almost. 

Nathalie shot him a look. “It’s not terminal, according to the doctors. At least, not now.” Nathalie glanced over to the Peacock Miraculous tiredly.  “The worst of the damage is to my spinal cord. It won’t kill me, only cripple me—” Here she paused for a moment while Gabriel helped her into bed. “—as long as I’m careful.”

It was impossible to imagine trying to run his own house, let alone the company, without Nathalie. Emilie wouldn’t be pleased to learn he had let something happen to her. He had to fix this, and he could fix this. “Don’t worry about your spine, Nathalie. I’ll get you a new one, the best…” Gabriel looked away from her. 
“Emilie might not need a new spine, so—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Sick or not, Nathalie’s glare was enough to shut him up.

“Don’t think about what? You don’t know what I was going to say. You didn’t let me finish.”

“Gabriel. No!” Nathalie sat up the best she could so she could glare at him from closer to his eye level. “I won’t have you use him like that. It’s bad enough what you’re already doing to the poor boy—”

Gabriel tried to protest, to no avail.

“— but I will not let you take his spine for me. You can’t treat your family like that.”

“Nathalie, I just want you and Emilie to be healthy and alive. I’m not a monster.” His voice softened. “Unwinding is a painless procedure. I watched enough to know and—”

Nathalie shook her head. “It’s wrong. Gabriel, you know it’s wrong. You can’t unwind your son. Emilie wouldn’t want this, and if you do manage to bring her back that way, she’ll never forgive you for it.” Nathalie felt stunted and sick as soon as she said it. She’d overplayed her hand and she knew it. I’m sorry, Adrien, she thought. 

Gabriel looked as though he was about to say something, but then changed his mind. “You need to rest, Nathalie. Take the day off and sleep.”

He went to put Nathalie’s pills on her nightstand, but spotted a small, blue-feathered kwami, who stretched and looked up at him. “Oh, did you find her yet?”

He glared at Duusu. “This is all your fault, you know.”

If Duusu was bothered, she definitely didn’t show it. “Four or five. I lost count again.” 

Gabriel didn’t even bother trying to figure out what that nonsense meant before he left. Just as he was closing the door, Duusu pulled her long tail feathers tightly around herself like a blanket and stared straight down. “She’s not happy…”

Chapter Text

“What did you do, Chloé?” Ladybug demanded furiously as the three retreated from the hotel room, dodging drawers, the tv remote, various lamps and at one point a table.

 “Me?” Chloé asked, “Why are you asking me?” 

Chat Noir barely avoided getting nailed by the big screen tv as the three ran down the hallway, a fourth set of footsteps not far behind them. “Maybe this can wait?”

Ignoring him, Ladybug continued. “Chloé, come on! I know you had something to do with this!” She grabbed a flying vase out of the air. “Half of the time if someone gets Akumatized it’s because of you!”

To Ladybug’s surprise, Chloé’s normal (if anything that dramatic qualified) reaction didn’t happen. Instead she looked back at the empty room and quietly said, “The Akuma’s probably in the designer brooch on Vanisher’s sweater.”

“I knew it!” Ladybug was livid. “Do you realize you put everyone in this hotel in danger by covering this up?”

Chloé bristled. “It’s not like that—”

Ladybug was knocked to the floor by her invisible enemy, who she now realized was probably smaller than herself. “Look, I don’t know what you did to this one, but you can’t just—“ 

Here Vanisher got in a blow with what felt like an invisible backpack. Ladybug jumped to her feet, clenching her fist tighter than she realized. “— you can’t just put everyone else at risk to cover up your mistake!”

At that moment she managed to tear the backpack in two, which would have been an instant victory… if the Akuma was in the backpack. A few school supplies scattered unceremoniously to the floor.

Ladybug shook the half of the backpack, surprised. “What—”

Vanisher lunged.

Everything happened so fast. All at once there was a cold hand tugging at her ear, Chat Noir was swinging his staff to pry Vanisher away and Chloé was hunkered down behind the check-in counter shouting at Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm…

Wait, Chloé. What did she say earlier? 

Now that Vanisher was close enough to rip the Miraculous from her earlobe, she was also close enough to grab. There was only time for one shot, but if Chloé was telling the truth…

Ladybug somehow managed to grab Vanisher by the shoulder, her hand brushing against a cold piece of metal for a moment. She gripped the brooch with all her might and shoved Vanisher away from her, sending her backwards into Chat Noir’s waiting arms.

Ladybug threw the still-invisible brooch to the floor, crushing it under her shoe and catching the Akuma in her yo-yo. Within seconds, Sabrina was visible. 

“Pound it!” She turned to Chat Noir, extending her hand for a high five, but to her surprise he wasn’t smiling.

“Why didn’t you listen to Chloé?” Chat Noir tilted his head to the side, like a cat who doesn’t know what he’s looking at. “She told you exactly where it was.” 

It took a moment for Ladybug to process what he was saying. “Chat, listen to yourself. It’s Chloé we’re talking about.” Ladybug tried to laugh it off even though she knew he had a point. “I mean, look, this is her best friend. Who knows what horrible thing she said or did to her to get her to this point.” 

Chat Noir frowned, but before he could reply Ladybug was holding her head tightly and gritting her teeth. He took a careful step forward. “Hey, you okay? Did you get whacked in the head earlier?”

Ladybug shook her head, then immediately wished she hadn’t. “No… actually, I don’t know…” She gritted her teeth, rubbing at the side of her head. “It just feels bad.”

“Did you try casting the Cure? Maybe that’ll help.” Chat Noir said, concerned. 

 Ladybug groaned, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “I can’t do that… I didn’t use the Lucky Charm, remember? Besides, I’m not hurt… it’s just one of those…” The pain in her head wasn’t the worst part. She could see clearly now, but not what she knew was actually here. In her mind, she wasn’t on this world anymore. 

What she saw was more disorienting than the fight itself. It was unmistakably Chloé, but not quite— a different version of her dressed in red and black, laughing on the rooftops.

“Milady? Are you alright?” She barely felt Chat Noir’s hand on her shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ladybug was back again and couldn’t believe what she was doing… but if this was right, there was only one way to know for sure.

“Chat, can you make sure Sabrina’s okay? You didn’t have to use your Cataclysm, so you shouldn’t have to hurry.”

He nodded. “No problem, but… are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded, stood up, shook her head one more time and was fine but a couple of seconds later, she was bracing herself for what she was going to say.

“I need to talk to Chloé.”

Staff and guests buzzed around the hotel’s lobby, trying to make sense of the whole hotel room scattered down the hallway and across the lobby’s fine marble floor. Chloé, for her part, had made herself strangely scarce. Usually if she’d been anywhere near an Akuma incident, she would be practically begging for attention and to be looked after despite not having so much as a scratch on her. Not this time.

Chloé slunk off to the nearest elevator, ignoring the actual injuries she had this time. Three of her nails were broken, a remote had nailed her right eye, deep marks from Vanisher’s nails were on both arms, and her normally pristine and elegant tithing whites were splattered with all sorts of stains. But she didn’t shout for the attention of a servant or her father or anyone. Instead she headed toward the elevator, but as she was waiting for the elevator to come down and take her back to her room, she felt a gloved hand on her shoulder.

“Chloé!” Ladybug said, maybe a little too forcefully. Chloe whipped around and Ladybug gasped at the shiner she had, and the small deep cuts she seemed to have every where. “Get away from me.”  Chloé said angrily, shaking Ladybug off of her.

Now Ladybug was really worried. She did not like Chloé Bourgeois, not as Ladybug and certainly not as Marinette. But Chloé was always a big fan and supporter of Ladybug, to the point where sometimes it was too much. If she didn’t want to talk to her, something was very, very wrong.

“Chloé, you’re hurt,” Ladybug said, “If you don’t want to talk to me, at least let me walk you to the paramedics so they can make sure you’re alright.”  

“Why?” Chloé laughed harshly, “So I can be patched up to be in pristine condition to be cut up in a couple of weeks, or to watch Sabrina being taken away?”

“…What?” Suddenly she felt cold, like ice water was running down the back of her neck.

Chloé glared at her. “What do you think happens after you leave? You don’t stick around to find out? Don’t have the guts?” 

“That’s not fair, Chloé!” Ugh, why did she think she could reason with her? “If we don’t get out before the timer ends—”

“Will you forget about your precious timer?” Chloé snapped. “Sabrina’s going to end up unwound!”

“What?!” Ladybug shook her head. “Everyone knows how Akumas work now. That can’t happen again.”

Chloé clenched her fist. “It’s that ridiculous Override law.”

   Every kid worried about their parents deciding to unwind them, but an override was practically an urban legend. There was an obscure law that said if some kid was an immediate danger to the public, they could be unwound without an unwind order… but she’d never once heard of it being used. It never even crossed her mind until now.

Ladybug didn’t realize her hand was already on her yo-yo, gripping it so hard that her knuckles were white under the gloves. “You think they would use an override? On Sabrina?”

Chloé gave her a strange look. “You didn’t know? Half the time if the kid’s old enough and healthy, they end up with an override on them by the time the police arrive. Why do you think that artist kid went running the second he was changed back?”

Ladybug was too stunned to say anything for a moment, but then she shook her head. “Wait a minute, that doesn’t make any sense.” She let out a sigh of relief. Chloé was either lying or wrong. She had to be. “Half of the kids in—” she caught herself just in time “—in your class have been Akumatized and they’re still…” Please don’t say alive. “Still okay.”

Chloé scoffed, but it came out as more of a choking cry. “Do I have to explain everything to you?” She didn’t mean it. She wasn’t even trying to put venom into her voice anymore. (Did she normally try or was it just automatic?) “Usually either the kid’s so transformed they’re unrecognizable, like that monster that trashed the school (Ladybug had to try very hard not to point out that Mylene was Akumatized because of Chloé that time) or because you’ve cleaned up everything before anyone gets it on camera. They won’t do anything if they don’t have proof on who did it. Not that it takes much proof…” Chloé leaned forward and held her head in her hands. “And of course the lobby is full of security cameras…”

Ladybug could hear her heartbeat in her ears. There was a tightness in her chest that she’d felt too many times as Marinette, but never once as Ladybug. Her head was buzzing, trying desperately to figure out any reason Chloé would make this up.

But Chloé just kept talking. “No fuss, no anything. Sabrina doesn’t even get anyone telling her she’s brave or generous, she doesn’t get a party… she doesn’t even get a waiting period. She’ll just disappear.”

Somewhere through her encroaching panic attack, Ladybug noticed how hard Chloé was crying. Usually when Chloé cried, she was as loud and melodramatic as possible to make sure everyone could hear her. Now… she was just sitting on the floor of the elevator with makeup running down her cheeks.

“Why…?” Ladybug was too worn out to finish her question. She’d never been so exhausted after a fight before. Did the Cure usually fix that or was today just terrible?

The tears were fresh in Chloé’s eyes and as she went on Ladybug had to fight to keep tears from coming herself. “It was over nothing. I told you it was nothing! Just that once again, Sabrina can’t do anything without me, she won’t leave me! So I end up dragging her down with me, like I always do! I don’t know why she hangs around me anymore when I’m so mean to her; she wants me around so much that she got Akumatized over me being gone. She should’ve left me already! Everyone in their right mind does…”

At this point Chloé was crying too hard to get anything else out. Now that her makeup was smudged and washed away, Ladybug could tell that her black eye wasn’t fresh. It looked a few days old.

“Chloé…” She didn’t know where to start, so she went with what she knew she could handle. “Did Vanisher hurt you earlier? Before we came, I mean.”

Chloé looked up, mascara and concealer dripping off her bruise. “Right after she got  Akumatized. It wasn’t her fault.” She sounded nervous, but also as if she was daring anyone to disagree.

Ladybug sat down on the floor next to her. “I know. None of this is her fault… and I don’t think it’s yours.” This time she meant it. “But if you were hurt… why keep her where you live?” 

Chloé wiped her eyes. “I thought if I could get close enough I could take the brooch from her myself and nobody would ever know.”

Ladybug cringed, imagining what would happen if the Akuma multiplied. She wanted to tell Chloé not to mess with Akumas if she wasn’t there to purify them, but that wasn’t what she needed right now. “But you couldn’t get it by yourself?”

Chloé shot her a look. “What do you think? It’s not like I’m you.”

After a moment, Ladybug stood up and pressed the button to open the elevator doors again. They were still on ground floor, so hopefully she would be fast enough.

“Where are you going?” Chloé asked, just barely managing to keep the elevator door open so she could follow.

Ladybug paused and tried to make her voice sound confident. “I’m going to go help Sabrina.”

Chloé caught up to her in seconds. “Wait for me. I’ve been thinking about what to say to the cops since… well…”

But Ladybug cut her off. “Just… let me do the talking.” The image of that red-and-black spotted suit, like her own with the colors reversed, flashed through her mind again and she softened her voice. “I think it would mean a lot to Sabrina if you were with her right now.”

“She won’t want to see me.” Chloé was just a little behind Ladybug as they came into the lobby. “I got her Akumatized in the first place.” She put her mascara back in her purse. Somehow she’d managed to fix her makeup and walk at the same time without ever stopping to check a mirror. It didn’t even slow her down. This had always infuriated Marinette to no end and probably always would, but for the moment she admired it.

“I don’t think she’s going to blame you.” Ladybug hoped the mask hid her anxiety as well as it hid her identity. “She needs her best friend right now.” It occurred to her that the only reason she even heard Chloé out in the first place was because something in her head had her worried if she didn’t, she might not get to be Ladybug anymore. Did that make her crazy or just selfish? She was trying to do the right thing now, but... what if she was making it worse? Usually the Miraculous seemed to hold back her anxiety, but now she felt sick to her stomach. If it was already this bad as Ladybug, she was dreading the moment she would have to change back.

Before Ladybug could finish her thought, Chloé walked right past her, right past Chat Noir and Officer Roger in the lobby and planted herself right beside Sabrina. She wrapped an arm around the smaller girl and placed Sabrina’s head on her shoulder.  Ladybug couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Chloé say, “Shhh, Sabrina, it’s okay, I’m here.”

In all the time they’d known each other, Marinette had never once seen Chloé be so gentle. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she walked over to Chat Noir, who was in the middle of a conversation with Roger.

“So let me get this straight,” Roger said, taking out a little notepad. He sounded completely drained. “You have no idea where the Akuma went?” 

“Disappeared into thin air.” Chat Noir leaned against his staff, trying to act devil-may-care about it.

“Un huh,” Roger said skeptically, letting out a deep sigh. “Isn’t that the same story you told the station when the Bruel kid got akumatized? It seems to me you two are pretty bad at catching Akumas when there’s an unwind order involved.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both exchanged a worried glance. Chat Noir’s ears flicked back and he looked down at the floor, belt-tail swishing. 

Roger paused in the middle of the sentence he was writing. “What’s wrong, kid? Cat got your tongue?” 

Chat Noir managed to smile at that and Roger let out a mirthless chuckle. “It’s pretty obvious what happened here, Chat Noir. Pretty obvious.” He headed to where Sabrina was sitting, still holding onto Chloé like a lifeline.

“Officer Raincomprix, wait!” Ladybug called after him. Roger turned around to face Ladybug, tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, Ladybug, it’s okay. I’d rather it be me to bring her in than a Juvie Cop.”

Without saying another word, Roger walked past the two superheroes to where Chloé and Sabrina were sitting. Sabrina slowly lifted her head from Chloé’s shoulder and looked up at her father. There wasn’t a trace of anger on his face, which was somehow worse.

“Sabrina, sweetheart,” Roger said softly, kneeling down to meet his daughter’s gaze at eye level. Sabrina looked up at her father’s eyes, which were even more full of tears than her own. He put a hand on her shoulder and took a deep breath. “I’m going to need you to come with me, okay?”

Chloé tried to tighten her grip on Sabrina, but she slipped out. “Sabrina, no!” Chloé hissed, grabbing her by the arm.

“I-it’s okay, Chloé, really.” Sabrina stood up and tried to dry her eyes and blow her nose, which didn’t do much to help. “I’m coming, Dad, don’t worry. I won’t make… more of a scene than I already have.”

Sabrina stood up and held out her hands without being prompted. With his hands shaking, Roger put handcuffs on her and began to walk her out of the hotel towards his squad car. Chloé, Chat Noir and Ladybug followed close behind, the two shaken heroes grim and solemn like they were at a funeral and Chloé becoming more desperate with every step.

“No! You can’t do this! I won’t let you!” Chloé tried to grab Roger’s big arms and yank them off Sabrina, even though he was actually barely holding her. He shook his head. “It’s the law, Chloé. It’s out of my hands now.”

By now, Chloé had completely abandoned anything resembling composure and was desperately trying to stop him by hanging onto his arm and digging in her heels. “I’ll call my Daddy! He signs your entire department’s paychecks, so you have to listen to him!” 

“Please, Chloé…” Sabrina tried to interrupt, but it was no use.

Roger gently tugged Chloé off of his arm. If it was any other person interfering with any other arrest, they would have been hauled off to jail (most likely after being tranqed). He opened the door to the squad car and Sabrina sat down. It was where she always sat when he picked her up from school. He was just opening the door to the driver’s seat when Chloé’s voice rang out again.

“I always knew my parents were monsters, but I didn’t think you were one! That’s your daughter, you creep!”

Roger balled his hands into fist, tears streaming down his face. “Enough!” He shouted. “That’s enough, Chloé! Chat Noir, Ladybug, keep her away… before I’m tempted to do something drastic.” 

Ladybug was sure she saw Chat flinch. Sabrina burst into tears again, huddling in the car seat. The two of them exchanged a look, then pulled Chloé back. Even with their superpowers, it would have been easier to drag a furious panther away. Feral was one of the last things Ladybug would have ever called Chloé, but looking at her now, that was all she could think of.

Ladybug felt like the worst person alive. Chloé wanted to save Sabrina, and here she was holding her back. Logically she knew letting Chloé loose wouldn’t help Sabrina at all, but… that didn’t make it feel less horrible.

Just as Officer Roger was getting into the car and reaching for his keys, Chloé looked straight at the car and shouted, “It was me, okay?!”

Everyone froze. Sabrina’s father dropped his keys and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Sabrina herself stared at Chloé with a mixture of shock, gratitude and horror. Chat Noir’s ears plucked up, Ladybug’s mouth gaped opened and they both felt Chloe escape their loosened grip. 

Roger was the first to recover. “Say that again? I didn’t hear you.” 

Chloé sniffed deeply, and hid her eyes, just like every time she cried on command. “It was me. I went Akuma because I just got so overwhelmed.” It was the full-on dramatic act that Marinette had seen Chloé pull a million times, but this time with real emotion amplifying every word. “My tithing party’s coming up. I only have a couple of months and… and… and I’m scared, alright?! I had a moment where I thought I didn’t want to be a tithe. I wanted the ground to swallow me up… I just wanted to vanish! So that’s why I think I became Vanisher! And after I transformed back, I tried to let someone else get blamed. Now are you happy?”

It was hard to tell who was more stunned, Ladybug or Chat Noir. Ladybug was amazed, but for the first time since she’d met him, Chat Noir looked like he was about to be sick. His arm twitched, as if he was thinking about trying to hold Chloé back again.

Roger, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more relieved, or grateful… “If that’s the case, then,” he said, helping Sabrina out of the car and pulling her into a tight hug, “then… Sabrina, you’re free to go.” Roger had never been happier to release someone he knew was guilty (or at least, in the eyes of the law). Sabrina slid her hands out of the cuffs, which hadn’t even been on very tightly. 

“And you, young lady,” —like a lighting flash, Chloé’s hands were cuffed— “are coming with me.”

Sabrina and Chloé watched each other as they traded places. Sabrina’s eyes were filled with gratitude and love, but also fear. “Wait, Dad—”

 “Don’t stare, Sabrina,” Chloé interrupted, trying her best to sound annoyed. “What are you looking at? You know my Daddy will have me out by tomorrow morning. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

Chapter Text

Marinette wandered over to Adrien, who was more excited than anyone else in the class. How had she not realized this was his first field trip ever? She’d been here before, and maybe she could give him a private tour…

“Marinette! Adrien! You have to stay with the group.” Miss Bustier’s voice snapped her out of it. Right, she and Adrien had to stay with everyone else. Still, she could daydream. The museum really would make a nice place for a date…

“Marinette!”

…some other time.

“…and it took days to sort through all the data, but I finally got enough to put together when it started happening.” Alya was the only one who looked almost as sleep-deprived as Marinette. She hoped Alya wouldn’t be offended if she had to ask what the project was for the third time.

“Didn’t we see this last year?” Chloé sounded almost bored, showing no signs of whatever happened the week before. She’d simply shown up in class on time the next morning and acted as if it was a typical night. The only clue that Marinette hadn’t somehow imagined the entire thing was that she was carrying her own backpack instead of letting Sabrina do it.

“Come on, Chloé, this museum has a new exhibit that’s only here for one month.” Max already had his hands full of pamphlets. “It says some of these artifacts are over five thousand years old, including discoveries on—”

“I remember this art museum I went to in Greece.” There was Lila again, like nails on a chalkboard. “A local sculptor asked if he could use me as a model for a marble statue, but I had to turn him down since my contract said I couldn’t model for anyone else…”

Alix checked her watch. “Okay, Dad should be in Egyptology by now. He usually doesn’t have his office locked.”

“You sure you’re fast enough?” Kim looked around, a little less carefree than usually. “You said he stops by his office all day to get stuff.”

“That’s why you’re the lookout.” Alix circled a spot on the tourist map, which was already covered in X’s, arrows and scribbled-out notes. “If you see anyone coming and you can’t stall them enough, text me and I’ll get out of there or hide.”

Kim nodded, his expression serious. “I’ll start the stopwatch as soon as you’re gone.”

Alix nodded. “Remember, don’t leave that spot until I text you the all-clear.” Their whole plan depended on the hall being empty by the time the class was coming. “We’ll pull this off before they even have time to realize we’re missing.”

“…And that’s 7… 8… 9… wait, we’re missing two.” Miss Bustier scanned her group, immediately realizing who was missing. She tried to suppress a groan. “Has anyone seen Alix and Kim?”

Murmurs and whispers from the little crowd answered her well enough. She hoped they weren’t getting into too much trouble. Kim had needed a distraction badly, but if he and Alix had wandered off together, they were probably a little too distracted. 

She sighed. Kim and Alix had been in her homeroom for two years now, and if she knew them then she knew if she didn’t do something soon, something very valuable was going to get broken or someone was going for a ride in an ambulance (probably both). 

Miss Bustier’s first thought was to go to the front desk and ask them to put out a message over the intercom, but she decided against it. Alix’s father was the head curator of the museum. Ever since Jalil had gone to school at Collège Françoise Dupont, the museum had offered certain privileges to the school— including free passes to the students and a special guided tour every year. While Jalil was studious and did his Father proud, Alix much preferred the rush of adrenaline to a good book. If Miss Bustier went to the front desk and told the museum’s administration that the curator’s daughter was running wild though the museum, it may not end well for any of the parties involved. This was a situation that needed to be handled with a delicate hand.

Her students seemed to sense her anxiety and the murmurs became less and less museum-appropriate by the second. She had to take charge of the situation and fast. 

“Settle down class, settle down.” Miss Bustier was a good teacher. Her students liked her and respected her, and when she called her class to order they obeyed. “Now it looks like a couple of us lost track of time today and are too caught up in the exhibits to notice that our time is up for today.” She really hoped that was it. The two resident daredevils could be up to anything at this point.

“Are there any volunteers who would do us the favor of finding our friends while the rest of us wait for the bus?”

A few hands went up. Rose, of course, wanted to help, but the sweet girl would probably go straight to the front desk and do the exact thing that had to be avoided here. Not Adrien either, for the same reason. Alya might join in on whatever Kim and Alix were doing (every good daredevil needs a cameraman, after all). That left…

“Marinette?”

It was hard to say why she didn’t think of sending Marinette in the first place. She was perfect for the job. Marinette was a good kid, but would understand not to draw too much attention in the process.

She was off already, and Ms. Bustier took the opportunity to shuttle the rest of the kids back to the bus. She hoped Marinette could find Kim and Alix before they got into too much trouble.

Alix managed to slip into the office and unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a bundle of paper towels wrapped around a delicate object inside.

After looking over the office for a minute, she picked a shelf just below her dad’s eye level. It was obvious enough for him to find, but not so much that he would realize it hadn’t been there the entire time… at least that’s what she hoped.

Carefully, Alix unwrapped the bundle. Some dust and tiny pottery shards came away with the wrappings, but it still looked okay to her.

It was a stone tablet covered in carvings. A group of spiderweb cracks ran from one corner to the opposite edge, but she could only really see it if she looked close. Kim’s idea to mix plaster, sand and glue together actually worked better than she thought. It was cracked pretty bad, but as long as nobody held it for too long, nobody would ever know.

That reminded her— once this was all over, she had to pick out a new addition for Kim’s tattoo. She hadn’t cleared the last crate, but the bet was whether or not she could jump empty crates. If the last one somehow had something inside they’d both missed, she hadn’t lost the bet.

“Okay, Dad… now you’ve just got to find it.” The tablet sat propped up on the shelf. It was strange that something made of solid stone was that fragile.

Her phone buzzed and she heard foot steps. Not good, Alix thought as she cursed herself for this whole thing and Kim for not being quick enough on his phone. As fast and quiet as a rabbit disappearing down a burrow, she hunkered down under her father’s desk. A few seconds later, the doorknob turned, and Alim Kubdel entered followed by a second set of footsteps.  

“We are out of time, Kubdel.” Not her father’s steady tone, but a higher, whiny ratlike voice. It was his boss, the head director of the museum. As the two men closed the door to the office behind them, Alix realized she was trapped.

Alix never liked her dad’s boss. In her mind, her dad was exactly what an archaeologist should be. Lelandais, on the other hand, was his complete opposite. Nearly every visitor he came in contact with would be told to keep their voices down, or to stop with the flash photography or that they were standing too close. His eyes were a sharp and piercing blue that appeared to be always appraising something, usually very critically. 

“I just don’t understand what could have happened to it,” Alim protested. “It has to be—”

Then there was just silence. Alix stayed as still as she could (which wasn’t all that still), and tried not to make a sound. She was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. The office had no windows and only one door, which was currently blocked by two people. 

“I was just in here and I didn’t see it.” Alim sounded stunned and Alix wondered if she should have put the tablet somewhere else. Well, there was no going back now.

“You expect me to believe you didn’t notice this?!” Lelandais said though gritted yellow teeth.

(Alix didn’t have a very good view of the two, but she distinctly remembered that Lelandais had yellow teeth that looked liked a rat’s.)

“Now then,” Lelandais’ tone shifted on a dime, going from despotic boss to friendly kindergarten teacher, “Would you kindly explain how a man with a PHD in archaeology and over twenty years of experience could not find the priceless artifact he was in trusted to protect…”  

It was then Alix heard an audible click. Lelandais was locking the door— her only means of escape. 

“…Until it turns up in his own office, in this condition?! If this is the original artifact, you’re fired! If it isn’t, then you’re going to jail and you’re still fired!”

Alix knew the game was up. “No, wait!” she blurted out, banging her head on the way up. 

“Alix? You’re supposed to be on your field trip.” Her father didn’t sound too happy to see her. Despite the way he sounded he did look concerned as she rubbed the now throbbing lump on top of her head. 

She cracked a small smile. “I am on my field trip, Dad.” 

 Lelandais still looked furious, maybe even more so. Alim just groaned.

Marinette had already checked Egyptology and the nearby halls. The museum was huge, though, and she wasn’t even sure Kim and Alix weren’t in there somewhere. She wished she’d brought her phone on the field trip— maybe she could have called at least one of them.

“Tikki, do you think they might have ditched the field trip and gone somewhere else to try a stunt?” 

The little kwami giggled playfully. Marinette didn’t know why, but she had a small smile. “That’s some wishful thinking on your part, Marinette!”

Marinette groaned, knowing Tikki was probably right. Why did she volunteer to be the class representative again? 

Just as she had convinced herself that for once in her life the best case scenario had happened and Kim and Alix were just being crazy monkey children somewhere where there weren’t priceless and very breakable treasures, she bumped right into Kim. He dropped a paper map of the museum, his phone and a half-eaten energy bar that was probably not allowed in the museum. “Marinette? I, uh, didn’t know the class was coming down here.”

She groaned, picked up Kim’s phone off the floor and gave it back to him. “We’re not. It’s actually time to go. I came to look for you two… Where’s Alix?”

Kim hastily picked up the paper map and stuffed it into his pocket. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t really fit even when it was crumpled up and it immediately fell onto the floor again.

“I think you dropped… this…” Marinette picked up the paper and groaned when she saw what was on it. “Operation Reverse Heist?”

Kim gave her a sheepish smile and Marinette resisted the urge to scream. So this was why he and Alix disappeared on the trip. It was a map of the museum that was so covered in arrows and markings that it looked like something out of a heist movie. While she knew her classmates too well to think they would ever steal something, she could probably guess where this was going. “Please not another bet. Not on the field trip…”

Marinette didn’t realize she’d said it out loud until Kim shook his head. “The bet’s off. We decided we’re done with it… Way too risky.” 

She knew it was too good to be true.  “You two canceled the bet?” Something was really, really wrong here. She could see herself and Ms. Bustier in a nice, soft padded room after they got done with today. 

“Yes. Well, kind of— I mean, we had to change it a little—” He was definitely hiding something. If it was bad enough to make even carefree-to-a-fault Kim this nervous, it was probably a real problem. Especially since he was by himself and he kept checking his phone over and over.

“Kim, where’s Alix?”

“Look, you can’t fire my dad.” Alix stepped out of her hiding spot and tried not to look directly at the artifact. “It’s… really not his fault.” 

“Alix?” Her father suddenly looked less angry and more alarmed.

She could explain it to him later. She’d probably be grounded until she graduated, but she’d tell him. “I’m the reason he couldn’t find that thing. My friend and I were just messing around. He wasn’t trying to steal it, or sell it or anything.” Alix felt ashamed of how she was acting, but she suddenly felt very angry at the world. 

Lelandais didn’t even look up at her. Instead, he was busy scanning the tablets with his keen eyes. “So you mean to tell me that you are the one responsible for the damage?”

Alix’s heart skipped a beat. It looked fixed when she brought it in… but maybe a professional wouldn’t agree. She should’ve had Jalil take a look at it. “Damage? What damage?”

 “What damage? Look at it!” Lelandais jabbed a terrible, bony claw at a crack running down the side. “You’re certainly your mother’s daughter…” 

Alix wasn’t a violent person, but right now she felt like punching Lelandais. Judging by the way her dad tensed up and clenched his fist, he’d heard it too.

Lelandais still wasn’t done. “What did you little cretins do, run it over with your car?”

“I can’t drive,” Alix deadpanned. (For a brief moment, she thought she heard her dad stifle a laugh.)

Marinette was almost to the office when she saw it. It was a black butterfly crackling with violet energy.

“Tikki, that’s an Akuma!” she hissed, eyes wide. She had to take care of this now, before anyone could be transformed.

“Tikki, spots—”

“Marinette, not in here!” Tikki interrupted frantically, pointing to a security camera on the wall.

“I almost missed that…” Marinette froze for a second, realizing just how badly this could have gone. Then she shook it off the best she could and darted into the closest bathroom.

“Do you have any idea of the position you’ve put us in?” demanded Lelandais. “That artifact was on loan. THIS—” A piece of paper was shoved into Mr. Kubdel’s hands “—is what it’ll cost you to cover restoration and fees.”

Alix didn’t get a look at the paper, but if the look on her dad’s face was anything to go on, it wasn’t good.

“I— I can’t possibly pay this!” He looked horrified. “Even if I sold the house, I wouldn’t have enough for the restoration costs alone…”

“I’ll make some phone calls and notify the artifact’s owners.” The boss seemed more annoyed than panicked. “Depending on how good our lawyers are, you might have a little longer to pay this off.”

“You know I can’t.” He was gripping Alix’s shoulder tightly, maybe to keep her from slipping away or maybe as if she was his anchor. “There’s nobody who would even give me a loan that massive on such short notice…”

Just as Alix was wondering how she should apologize for apparently being the worst daughter in history, Lelandais’ rant trailed to a halt. He looked her up and down as if just noticing her for the first time. “How old are you? 10? 11?”

Alix was about to reply, but her father interrupted (which was probably a good thing, since anything she had to say now would probably make it even worse). “She’s 15 this fall.”

“Well then,” Lelandais said as he looked at Alix with the expression he usually reserved for a valuable artifact, “This certainly changes things.” He took back the paper, wrote out a few calculations and nodded. “Congratulations, Kubdel. You’re not bankrupt after all.”

Something about the cold tone made the hairs stand up on the back of Alix’s neck. Her father, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more relieved.

“Thank you— thank you so much. You won’t regret forgiving this, I promise.” He smiled with relief. 

Lelandais paused and gave him a strange look that Alix couldn’t read. “I’m not forgiving your debt, Kubdel. I’m just finding a way for you to pay it off.” He gave Alix another scrutinizing look, as if he was looking right through her. “Your daughter’s an athlete, right? Healthy and everything? I’d say the value of transplants should clear this up quickly.”

“You can’t be serious.” Alix’s father held her so tightly she could barely breathe. “I’ll find another way. I have to.”

“You said it yourself, Kubdel.” Lelandais pressed a button and began to print something. “There’s no other way you can pay this off.”

“But… you can’t expect me to—”

A small stack of papers were placed on the desk. “Given the usual waiting period for these things, you should have a little time to make the necessary arrangements. If I understand correctly, your children are both under the age of 21, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then either one will suffice, if you prefer to make this decision yourself.”

Alix’s father stepped in front of her, trying to shield her. “I will not unwind either of my children!”

The human rat-boss didn’t even glance up from his paperwork. “In that case, the museum will take legal action. You have until the end of the waiting period to comply, but our lawyers will be waiting.”

Alix slowly looked up at her father. “Dad… I’m sorry. I really am.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Alix, I’ll find another way. I have to. Just… wait in the hall for me, alright?”

Alix stumbled out the door, feeling numb. She could her shouting erupt as soon as the door closed behind her.

She sat down in the hall, still reeling.

Her watch beeped.

She was out of time.

Her dad’s arguing wouldn’t fix this. Nothing short of going back in time and not breaking that thing would get her out of this.

Was she AWOL now, just like that? Staying put was out of the question. She wasn’t waiting around for this… but where could she even go?

She was only 14. She had to have more time than this.

Her heart was still pounding in her ears when she felt it. It was a rush of adrenaline without the high. She was back on her feet, unstoppable… but she still wasn’t going home. She couldn’t.

“Timebreaker.”

Alix rose to her feet, gaze fixed on someone far away.

“I'm granting you the power to retaliate against the people who've wronged you and to go back in time to restore the future. But you must do me a favor in return when the time is right. All I ask is that you bring me the Miraculous.”

Alix would take back her lost time, no matter what she had to do. Just let them try to catch her now.

She could take all the time in the world.

Chapter Text

Ladybug was out of the bathroom in less than a minute, but the distant crashing confirmed what her anxiety already told her: she was too late to stop the Akuma before anyone was transformed.

The past few minutes replayed in her mind rapid-fire, scanning for anything she could have done differently to save just a little more time. But she couldn’t stop and try to think of what went wrong now, not while she had a job to do.

She really hoped it wasn’t another kid. 

Adrien was the only living being in the room (other than the cat kwami in his pocket). There was, however, something— well, someone— that HAD been alive. The room was designed to look like the grand tomb of a pyramid and on the opposite side of the room on a slightly raised platform was the sarcophagus of some great Pharaoh who was the honored “guest” of the museum.  

Plagg, however, had no interest in long-dead human royalty. Much to Adrien’s annoyance, Plagg flew up to the wall and began to talk to one of the painted black cats on the wall. “Well, aren’t we the handsome one!” Plagg said, purring.

“Come on, Plagg, we don’t have time for this. I need to get transformed.” 

But Plagg didn’t seem to listen, continuing to admire the cat on the wall. “Plagg!” Adrien hissed, but the kwami might as well have not even heard him.

With a sigh, Plagg said, “Humans back in your day knew how wonderful and sacred cats are… Smart people.”

“That’s not even a real stone carving!” Adrien called in frustration.

But before he could say another word, someone else put his head through the doorway. It was Jalil, Alix’s older brother.  “Rah on high! Adrien, what are you doing here? The school group was supposed to be out by now.” 

Most people might have rolled their eyes a bit. ‘Rah on high’… Alix said that Jalil maybe liked his internship in Egyptology a little too much. Well, actually, My brother got drunk on Nile water was what she told everyone before they came in today. In truth, Adrien had always found Jalil a lot of fun to be around. He was so enthusiastic about the Egypt display when he was showing him around and was the only one of the museum’s staff that didn’t make a complete fool of themselves to try and impress his father.

Adrien’s mind raced desperately trying to find an excuse, but the one he came up with was actually the truth, if not all of it.

“I saw everyone running out of the museum. It looked like something bad happened and I wanted to make sure no one from my class was still in here.” 

Jalil looked liked he had just swallowed something particularly sour. “What about Alix? Did she make it out yet?” Adrien remembered why Marinette left the group and suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Whoever this new Akuma was (what else could it be around here besides another Akuma?) probably wasn’t a stranger. 

“Marinette went to get her,” Adrien said hastily, “but I’ll look for her too, I promise!”

He made his exit before Jalil could ask anything else. This was starting to remind him of something he hadn’t really talked to Ladybug about yet: the chance that when this was all over, another Akuma victim would be leaving in the back of a cop car.

The first thing Ladybug heard was laughter, evil laughter. Her instincts were screaming at her to turn back around, but this was just part of her job.

The sound took her right to an office that belonged to Alix’s father. Ladybug was good with patterns. She had dealt with enough of Hawkmoth’s creations to know that a kid being Akumatized usually meant trouble with friends… or family.

“Alix,” she groaned under her breath. “Not you too…” 

She opened the door expecting the worst, and she found it.  

It was Alix, or at least Ladybug thought so. Most of the Akuma’s face was covered by a reflective visor, but the helmet with a pair of skates was a dead giveaway to someone who knew her well enough.

 “Welcome back, Ladybug.” The Akuma said, leaning back against the desk. Her voice sounded like Alix… if Alix was possessed by some kind of demon. “I’m Timebreaker, and you’re just in time for the show.”

 “Show?” Ladybug asked, yo-yo already in hand. Only then did she notice the two other people in the room. One of them looked more like a rat like a man, and the other was Alix’s dad. Both of them were transparent and starting to flicker.

Timebreaker grinned maliciously. With a snap of her fingers and a chiming sound straight out of a video game, the two men unfroze. Every move they made was unnatural and almost torturously slow. Adding to that, it almost looked like they were moving backwards. Then Timebreaker tapped her fingers against her wrist, and time sped up again.

Alim was the first to form a full sentence, fear in every word. “Alix, baby, please listen to me! I know you’re in there, sweetie. Please… come back…” 

“I’ll do anything! Just let me go!” Interrupted the rat-looking man. “Whatever happened to the artifact… It always had a crack in it, yeah! That’s it!” 

Then Timebreaker snapped her fingers again and let out a long cruel chuckle. “That’s all for now. ‘Fraid it’s a rerun.”

Ladybug took the chance to scan her opponent for any weaknesses. First thing; the skates. If I could just get my yo-yo between those wheels, I could trip her up and send her flying across the floor.  Her second thought was the was the helmet she was wearing. It didn’t look like she’d be able to see that well out of it, but Ladybug knew better than to fall for that. She’s an Akuma. I’d bet that helmet is more kitted out than an astronaut’s. She can probably see my heartbeat.

“Do you like them?” Timebreaker asked suddenly. “Like what?” Ladybug said, at attention in an instant. “The skates,” Timebreaker said, motioning to the sickly green and black boots that were part of her suit. There were twin gages running up from the bottom of the skates, flickering unsteadily.

“A speedometer?” Ladybug asked, careful not to get too close. Timebreaker grinned, “Not exactly.”

With a swipe of her watch, the two men were unfrozen again. Timebreaker swatted the ratman’s shoulder like an aggressive game of tag. One moment he was there, solid and real, then he was like a ghost… and then he was gone. She smirked as a pretty little chime came from somewhere on her suit. The gage lit up all the way to a low yellow stripe.

“Alix,” Alim said desperately as he reached for his daughter’s hand, “what did you do?”

But if she noticed him at all, she didn’t show it. “Not really a speedometer, Ladybug. More like a charger. The more people I make disappear, the more power I get.” She laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. They’ve taken everything from us. I’m taking it back.”

“Alix…” Alim repeated desperately.

“Don’t call me that!” Timebreaker snapped, wheeling around to corner him against the desk. “That stupid rock was more important than anything, wasn’t it? You and Jalil and your dead things! You cared about them more than anything! More than me and more than Mom!”

Tears streamed from the poor man’s eyes, and Ladybug knew a nerve had been struck. On both ends, apparently, because ugly tears ran down from behind the visor too. 

“You’re so obsessed with history, Dad?” She skated ever closer, almost within arm’s reach of him. “You’re about to be history! Goodbye, Dad!” 

Reaching out to grab him, Timebreaker suddenly drew her hand back with a hiss. She whirled around, rubbing the painful sting to her wrist. The yo-yo was out, and Ladybug wasn’t playing.

For an instant, Timebreaker’s maniacal laughter came to a halt and she looked at her now-stinging wrist with a look of pure unadulterated terror and grief, like Ladybug had just drowned her beloved childhood dog. 

Terror…

 It was the first time Ladybug could remember anyone being genuinely afraid of her. But what was she afraid of?

 But then Timebreaker glanced at her other wrist, and the terror changed to relief. The answer hit Ladybug just like she’d hit Timebreaker with her yo-yo. The watch!

 Every Akuma drew power from an item that the target would guard with their life. Ivan’s had been a letter, a song he wrote that he didn’t have the chance to show Mylene. Alix’s had to be in her watch. The same watch she used to time her speed around a track, or know the exact moment when to plant a stink bomb, or when to race home for dinner. That watch was where the Akuma was, and it was right within her grasp!

Ladybug took a desperate shot at the watch, but Timebreaker wasn’t going to make it that easy. Timebreaker caught the end of the yo-yo and jerked her hand away quick, and Ladybug’s desperation to end the fight sent her tumbling flat on her face. “Too slow!” Timebreaker crowed. 

It was never easy to tell how much of a person remained themselves when they were akumatized. However, at that instant, Timebreaker was Alix and Alix was Timebreaker. This was a bet all over again! A challenge! A dare to do! A game! And Alix Kubdel lived for games. All at once the adrenaline started pumping, and the race was on!

“Catch me if you can, Ladybug!” she roared gleefully as she rocketed out the office door.

“Ugh!” Ladybug muttered under her breath, “It can never be easy.” She got up and brushed her self off, more out of pride or habit than having any actual dirt on her (the museum offices were kept extremely clean). But just as she set one foot out the door, she heard someone crying. Turning around, she saw Alim on both knees.

Ladybug felt horrible for him. She went to his side and tried to think of anything at all to say that might be comforting, but then her eyes fell to the old-style triplicate on the desk. She didn’t have to ask what it was; every kid had seen it in their nightmares.

In all the years Marinette and Alix had been friends, she had never once thought Alim would unwind his daughter. But now she was torn between comforting him, probing for answers and pleading for him not to do it. (She had a sneaking suspicion that the rat-faced man had something to do with it, but was that observation or paranoia? She could never tell anymore.) 

Still, she already had a horrible feeling of where this was all going to end. “Stay here and keep the door locked.” she finally said, “She’s very dangerous and might come back here.”

Ladybug left the office then, all the while hearing Alim sobbing. She desperately wanted to stay with him, but if she could stop Alix quickly enough, maybe nobody would realize who the Akuma was. She rushed after Timebreaker, but even she couldn’t keep up with her. Every now and then she would get a glimpse of a streak out of the corner of her eye or hear the sound of roller blades on tile. She had to act fast, but she still didn’t have much of a plan besides interrupting her before she— what? Erased anybody else like she did to the rat man?

Seconds seemed like minutes as Ladybug tried to keep up. She came across too many faded images of tourists and tried not to think about how many she knew. It was beyond her why Alix hadn’t simply pinned her down and stolen the earrings by now. As fast as the Miraculous made her, Timebreaker was literally running rings around her.

The sound of approaching sirens was more exhausting than the actual chase. Ladybug hoped to get this cleared up before the juvies got involved. Alix’s transformation was unrecognizable unless you knew her, and even though nobody would dare say it to her face, she was so small that she looked too young for unwinding. Changing her back quickly could mean this would all go away, but if the police were already there it would be much harder. 

Another classmate! Ivan, Chloé, Adrien… And now Alix. Ladybug stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t give up now. There was still time to save Adrien and if she took every chance she could find, maybe she could still save Alix. But how was she ever going to catch Timebreaker when she could be anywhere in the building in mere seconds?

Then with another look at her surroundings, she knew. Timebreaker was retracing her steps from today. Her relief was replaced with dread when she realized the pattern would cut straight through the most crowded parts of the museum. There was no time to try to redirect or move Alix, and someone might see when she was unmasked.

But if she stopped now, a lot of people were going to pay for it. Ladybug took a deep breath and, with grim determination, pushed herself forward.

Before he could even see the crowd, Chat Noir’s keen feline sense of hearing picked up a hundred panicked voices. He felt like he was going to puke. From what he could hear, it sounded like there were casualties. And worse still, the security wasn’t prepared for anything like this and was struggling to channel the terrified crowd. 

A part of him could have strangled Chloé’s dad. Ever since becoming a superhero, Adrien started keeping up with local news. Apparently a bill came onto the mayor’s desk asking all the staff of locations where there were a lot of tourists to take classes on how to evacuate during clapper attacks. He’d said no. “If we start to have drills for clappers, it might make us appear less safe.” 

It didn’t make sense to Adrien when he read it at breakfast a few months ago and it didn’t make any more sense now. Chat Noir snarled at the carelessness so fiercely that anyone would think he had a panther Miraculous instead of the Cat’s. But a little tug at his tail-belt made his face soften.

It was from a small girl with pigtails frantically trying to drag him towards the crowd. “Get out! Get out! If she touches you she kills you! Get out now!”

“Where’s your mom?” As soon as he’d said it, he noticed the tears on her face.

“She came to do a report on the exhibit and now I can’t find her and— andtheysaidtheythinktheAkumagotherand—”

It’s like the Titanic all over again, thought Chat as he dried her tears and found her a safe place to hide. When he was really little, Adrien remembered his mom showing him Titanic. She liked the romance and his younger self just wanted to see the ship sink, so they enjoyed it together. But one thing that always stuck out to him was what his Mother told him when he asked why they didn’t save everyone. “They didn’t pack enough lifeboats because they thought it would make the ship look less pretty.”

Once he was sure the little girl was safe (at least for now) and promised to have her mom come back and get her, he sprinted off to find the only one who could still make that happen. He could hear his Lady in a nearby hall, and by the sound of it she needed backup.

As much of a relief as it was to see her partner, Ladybug couldn’t shake her feeling of dread. There was something she never asked him but suspected. It was about their last mission; the first time they’d failed to change the Akuma back…

During their last fight with Evillustrator (who had gotten himself Akumatized again but then ran out of Hawkmoth’s range), there had been a moment where she’d been Chat falter. She was trapped in something Nathaniel had scribbled out and hadn’t worked her way over in time. It was on the rooftops where some shingles were loose and it could have happened to anyone… but the way she’d seen her partner step, it seemed like he might have been just a little too slow on purpose. Evillustrator had quickly disappeared, making his way farther and farther from the bustling city.

For days after that fight, Marinette hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time. She spent almost all of her free time (not that she had much in the first place) either on patrol or desperately scanning the news for a sign that she hadn’t let something terrible happen. But Nathan must have either kept his head down, wandered off way too far or… well, there wasn’t much she could do about the third possibility, but she hoped it wasn’t the case. Whatever Nathaniel was doing, though, she would have heard something by now if he’d hurt anyone… at least she hoped.

It would be easy to let Alix go. She was so fast that anyone would believe she just couldn’t be caught. She could run too far and fast, away from Hawkmoth or the juvies or anyone else trying to use her for something. The truth was that Timebreaker couldn’t be stopped except by Ladybug and Chat Noir, and that was exactly why they had to. It wasn’t Alix’s fault, and Ladybug hated to even think about this. But it was on her to either save Alix, or doom her.

“End of the line, Ladybug.” Timebreaker circled her again, reaching out and pulling back only inches from actually touching her. Ladybug knew she was falling behind. The game wasn’t fun anymore, so Timebreaker was about to stop playing. Now she was backed up against a wall between two statues with nowhere to go.

Ladybug braced herself for impact, but it never came. There was just a soft chime from over her shoulder.

She opened her eyes.

Chat Noir’s half-invisible form was wrapped around her, shielding her from Timebreaker’s attack. It was hard to tell with how he was fading, but it looked like there were tears in his eyes.

Timebreaker checked her gage, annoyed if anything. “That was even less than Myléne. Guess those nine lives don’t count for much.”

Then the pink outline of a butterfly mask flashed across her face and she grabbed at her own helmet like it was suddenly too tight.

“What are you doing?! I told you to bring me his ring, not use him for spare time!”

Timebreaker crossed her arms and glared straight through Ladybug. “Well, how am I supposed to take his ring without touching him?!”

While the mask flickered on and off, Ladybug wiped her eyes off with her sleeve and pulled herself up to her feet. Chat Noir was giving her an extra chance. She knew what she had to do, even if it meant—

No time for that now.

To Ladybug’s astonishment, Timebreaker seemed to have suddenly completely lost interest in her. She was skating in erratic circles, muttering and shouting. If she’d just stay still for a moment, maybe…

Wait, that’s it! She didn’t have to stop Timebreaker, she had to keep her from stopping! 

“Lucky Charm!”

It was a glass jar full of red and black polka-dotted marbles. Perfect.

But then Timebreaker swiped her glove at thin air. “You’re no better than Dad’s boss! You want those so bad, get them yourself!” In trail of dust, she rocketed for the nearest exit.

Now or never…

Not even taking time to open the jar, Ladybug threw it with all her might. It shattered on the floor, sending marbles everywhere. For a moment, she was sure she was too late and that she’d just single-handedly doomed her partner, her friends and maybe even the entire world (Alix never stopped pushing herself until someone made her stop).

Then with one last flash of inspiration, Ladybug shot her yo-yo into the largest cluster of marbles. The force of the shot sent them flying, and Timebreaker crashed through the exit door with a single chipped marble lodged in the wheel of her skate.

If the young Akuma had taken just a little longer to choose her exit, she probably wouldn’t have picked this one. The fire alarm on the emergency exit nearly made her lose her balance all over again. Still, she would have easily regained her balance if the marble hadn’t jammed in her skate. Even as she tried to catch herself with both hands, both Timebreaker and Ladybug knew she wasn’t going to make it. The digital watch around her wrist took the full brunt of her speed as she crashed into the pavement.

Praying that Alix wasn’t really hurt, Ladybug ran out and saw the broken watch on the ground. It only took a second to purify the Akuma, but it felt like a year before the white butterfly disappeared. Her next thought was to cast the Cure (she really hoped she didn’t have to go back and pick up all those marbles for it to work.) Alix seemed to read her mind, because she tossed her the marble that had ended her brief career as the world’s first super-skater. In seconds, it was over and everyone would be reappearing inside none the worse for the wear. Like it never happened… She turned to Alix, wanting to warn and reassure her in the same breath.

But the sirens were close enough to blare over the alarm of the emergency exit. Alix stood in a nearby alley, eyes as wide as a hare’s cornered by hounds. She stared straight past Ladybug, at the end of the alleyway. The digital watch lay shattered at her feet, discarded and forgotten.

“We need to get out of here.” Alix’s voice was hoarse, like she’d been crying or maybe was about to.

Ladybug could feel the tips of her gloves starting to dissolve into nothing. She couldn’t hold the transformation any longer and they both knew it. Scanning the alley for any way out, she noticed an old fire escape. The lower part of it was locked up and unusable for most people, but Alix’s gaze followed hers and she nodded. “Got it.” After climbing on a garbage can and taking a few risky jumps, she managed to grab the bars on the fire escape and pull herself over the safety railing.

Ladybug’s immediate impulse was to stop Alix and try to get her somewhere really safe, but judging by how fast she was fading, she only had a few seconds to make her own getaway (and if anyone could pull this off, it would definitely be Alix). She threw her yo-yo and managed to secure it to a ledge on a roof. It only took a fraction of a second to pull herself up.

For the rest of her life, Marinette would never be sure of her timing. She thought she’d seen Alix freeze for a moment, but was already up to her rooftop in the time it took her to collapse to the platform.

She would never be sure if she’d left Alix before or after the tranq dart hit her. All Ladybug could be sure of was that she’d dragged herself onto a part of the roof not visible from the ground, detransformed and collapsed onto the sun-heated stone.

Chapter Text

“You want those so bad, get them yourself!” Timebreaker snarled into the telepathic connection that linked Hawkmoth to every Akuma. Shouting and cursing, Gabriel tried to access Timebreaker over and over again. But it was no use. Timebreaker had either cut him off from the mental connection or was just ignoring him. She had gone rogue…

Hawkmoth stared straight ahead at the emerging national tragedy, frozen in a complete state of horror and shock. Today had not been a very good day even by his standards. It became worse still when his phone started playing a familiar ringtone: The Imperial March from Star Wars. 

“Nathalie…” Gabriel said, cringing. Thanks to his experiments and a little aid from a business partner, he wasn’t the only one who could view his evil machinations. The magic of his Akumas was fused with technology, with Nathalie’s phone wired to the same system he used. At the time, it seemed like a brilliant idea and a way to study and show off his creations. He had even hoped to expand the project if he ever got his hands on more Miraculous, but right now he was regretting it tremendously. 

Gabriel thought about answering his phone, fingers inching towards the speaker, but he didn’t. What was the point? Timebreaker’s powers were too strong, and he didn’t have control over her. Even Nathalie couldn’t get him out of this one. As Gabriel continued to watch the screen, all he could do was pour himself a drink and watch as Ladybug battled Timebreaker, who appeared to be hunting her for sport. Never in his life did he expect to root for Ladybug, but now the entire world was at stake.

As he brooded over his would-be champion’s mayhem and wondered if there was some way to run damage control, his phone buzzed like an angry hornet. Eventually, it went silent. What happened next was something Gabriel should have also expected, but even so, it made him jump.

“Open the door!” Nathalie yelled from inside the secret elevator (which he’d put a lock on after his nephew’s little visit). Gabriel swallowed and tried not to turn around. Like a bad little boy who was trying to hide something from his mother, he did not want Nathalie to enter his lair. There was no use hiding what he done, but he wanted to keep up the illusion that he had control.

Nathalie was having none of it. “Gabriel Agreste, open this door or so help me I will take an axe and open it!”

For a few seconds he tried to tell himself that Nathalie was bluffing, but deep down he already knew she wasn’t. Gabriel finally relented. 

“Alright, Nathalie, I’ll open it, just please don’t…” Gabriel’s voice trailed off as he pressed the button to let Nathalie in. She didn’t have an axe. This did not make her any less intimidating.

Well, he thought, maybe it will be a quick death.

But as Nathalie came closer, her voice was low and quiet. “What were you thinking?”

Before he could give an answer (not that he had one), she turned to the screen. His unlikely last hope was Ladybug and Chat Noir actually defeating Timebreaker, which was less likely by the second.

“End of the line, Ladybug.” Timebreaker said, slowly stretching out to touch Ladybug as if this was some perverted game of tag.

Then something happened. From seemingly out of nowhere, a black blur appeared and stepped between Ladybug and Timebreaker. For some strange reason both Gabriel and Nathalie let out a collective “No!” as Chat Noir took the tag for Ladybug.

Nathalie didn’t know why the death of some kid she had never met seemed to stab her in the chest, but it did. She would never have wanted anyone to get killed, especially a boy who looked young enough to be in class with Adrien, but even so, this struck her deeper than what she would have expected.

Gabriel knew why it hit him so deeply, or at least he thought he knew. He needed Chat’s ring for the Wish, although part of him knew it was something deeper. He couldn’t explain it and he tried to ignore it, but it was there. He would have to ignore it, and so he took out his rage and inexplicable grief on his Akuma. 

“What are you doing?! I told you to bring me his ring, not use him for spare time!” Gabriel yelled into the screen.

Timebreaker’s reply (oh, so she could hear him after all!) only served to ensure the destruction of his crystal drinking glass as he threw it against the wall. “Well, how am I supposed to take his ring without touching him?!” 

Gabriel put his masked head between his hands.

While Nathalie watched the fight with a blank expression on her face, Gabriel quietly took the elevator down to the glass coffin where his beloved wife laid in a peaceful and dreamless sleep. “I will soon be joining you, my love,” he said softly with his hand hovering on the glass just over hers. A wave of nausea, fear and despair washed over him. It was suddenly all so clear what a monster he had become. He could see now horrible he had been to everyone, especially his own son.

“Oh, Emilie, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean for it to be like this…” He fell to his knees, keeping his eyes on her perfect form. Mentally he made a promise to Emilie, or to a higher power, or whoever might have been listening, that if Ladybug was able to somehow miraculously win, and fix all this and bring everybody back, then he would take Adrien out of his tithing whites. He would love his son, shower him with care and love and attention and be the warmest, most loving father anyone could ask for. If only, if only, if only…

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Gabriel heard that infernal cry that had been the death knell for all of his creations and instinctively recoiled before he processed what it actually meant this time. Not a minute later, Nathalie was cheering and letting out some very un-Nathalie-like sounds, closer to a rabid fan at a sports championship. Quick as a flash, Gabriel was back to his lair just in time to see Timebreaker slipping and sliding all over the polished floors of the museum. The next minute was a mess of cheering and dancing by Gabriel and Nathalie, and somehow they ended up in each other’s arms. The moment ended abruptly, however, once they realized what they were doing and awkwardly pulled away. Each of them had a different shade of scarlet, redder than Ladybug herself. 

Gabriel took a deep breath, relived that things had worked out. That Ladybug… The mix of emotions was overwhelming, and he found himself chuckling from the weight that had been suddenly lifted from his very being.

“And what exactly is amusing about this, Gabriel?” Nathalie said sharply. Gabriel felt his smile fade as it became apparent that Nathalie did not share his newfound relief.

“Nathalie, it’s fine. We won,” he protested weakly. He didn’t bother to say anything more. The fight had gone out of him, and he was too tired. 

“You could have gotten us killed!” Nathalie said, suddenly seeming very threatening despite every swaying step. “You could have gotten Adrien killed! You could have gotten us all killed!”

Gabriel took a step back from Nathalie, trying to put distance between himself and her fury. Her face was ashen, sweat poured down from her face,  and her knees were buckling under her increasingly unstable frame. It was hard to fathom how a woman who could barely walk found the strength to come down here and unleash the terror that she did. “Don’t ever do this again.”

Gabriel looked down at the floor before muttering something that made Nathalie stop in her tracks. “How can I? The police took her away once she was no longer Akumatized.” As soon as he said, it he knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

With a strained motion that nearly knocked herself over, Nathalie shoved Gabriel against the wall. “You’re getting reckless, Gabriel. Don’t think I didn’t notice what happened with your last attempt.”

Gabriel gulped. He had been hoping she hadn’t noticed, but looking back, that seemed overly optimistic. “It was one time, Nathalie—”

“You lost an Akuma!” she hissed. Somehow this was more terrifying than when she was yelling. “You still haven’t found him, have you?”

“It’s one easily distracted teenager,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “The police will pick him up before long. We have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Nathalie was sick and tired of Hawkmoth making his toys too powerful. “You gave him the ability to conjure whatever he can think of! And a girl who can control time? Really, Gabriel, are you trying to get us all killed?”  

Gabriel looked down at the floor, too defeated and drained to deny it any further. “Nathalie, please…” His voice cracked. “She’s getting weaker.”

Nathalie went quiet for a moment.

“I’ve checked the readings every day. She’s running out of time.”  Gabriel monitored Emilie’s coffin like an addict plans their next fix, and there was no denying how serious her condition was. “At the rate she’s deteriorating… Adrien’s tithing may come too late.”

But before Nathalie had a chance to respond, the tremor was gone from his voice. “I have to try harder. I owe it to her to do whatever it takes… Even if it means we have to act faster.”

After all her years of knowing Gabriel, Nathalie could see in an instant what his change of plans would mean. He was never going to rein himself in. Whatever he thought it would take to bring back Emilie, he would do it. For Adrien’s sake, she had to get her hands on the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous before he took drastic measures.

So she said the one thing she wanted to avoid. “Then we will.”

Gabriel’s confusion turned to astonishment and unease as Nathalie drew a beautiful antique brooch from her pocket and pinned it back to her jacket. “No, Nathalie, you can’t do this to yourself—”

“Gabriel, this is not up for negotiation.” She straightened up, ignoring the shooting pain at the base of her spine. “We need to be more strategic.”

Gabriel wouldn’t rest until he revived Emilie, and one of his two plans could not be allowed to happen. 

For Adrien’s sake.

Chapter Text

“You’ve made another article, Chloé!” Sabrina said, pointing out another headline in a fashionable teen magazine. The headline read: “The Mirage of Bourgeois! How a Would-Be Heiress Tithe Went Rogue.”

Chloé glanced up at the headline, made a disinterested sighing noise, and went back to looking at her phone. Reading the first couple dozen of headlines like that this past week made her laugh and smile mischievously, the next dozen or so had made her snicker, but the last dozen had made her quite bored of the whole thing. When she looked up from her phone for the brief second, the only thing that interested her in the slightest was the grateful sparkle that had not left Sabrina’s eyes since Chloé took the fall for her. The sparkle made her smile, even when Sabrina didn’t see it.

Sabrina pointed out another column, but Chloé was too busy looking at pictures she had discreetly taken of Adrien when he was not looking. Some other people might have called it stalking (and they may not be wrong), but she was Chloé Bourgeois. In her mind, it should be considered a compliment. And besides, she had gotten in trouble for Sabrina. She deserved a little treat.

Sabrina continued to show Chloé headlines and like a parent viewing their kid’s drawings, Chloé would look up from her phone, smile and go back to looking at her phone. By this time she’d moved on from looking at Adrien to checking the hours for a new boutique that was supposed to open about a week from now. She needed a new purse and was just browsing designs when she heard Sabrina’s  phone ping. No sooner did Sabrina pick it up to look at it did she drop it with an audible thud.

“Sabrina?” Chloé said, putting down her  phone and getting up. Ever since the incident a week or two back, Chloé had begun to take a bigger interest in her friend’s wellbeing. And while it was clear that Sabrina was not taking Chloé’s tithing well, this was from something else entirely.

She got up and put both arms on Sabrina’s shoulders, which were shaking. “Sabrina! What are you going on about now?” Chloé tried to make it sound like she didn’t care, but for some reason it was harder than usual. “Spit it out, girl!” Chloé said, shaking her by the shoulders.

Sabrina caught her breath. “Your… Your mom, Chloé. She’s coming to Paris…”

Chloé picked up Sabrina’s  phone from the floor. Sure enough, there was a news alert (more of a digital tabloid, really) about Audrey Bourgeois’s return to Paris. She felt a jab of disappointment that the news had come to her through random advertising instead of a text, but that was quickly replaced with nausea.

Chloé hadn’t heard a word from her mother in months, not even after her “Akumatization.” Her dad’s response was pretty typical of the weak-willed mayor; some light attempts at scolding and she was told she couldn’t go anywhere except for school and her penthouse for a week (Which really wasn’t a problem because she had access to everything she could ever want). Her mother had remained silent on the whole matter, as usual. That was the only real thing her father seemed to be upset about. “What is your mother going to say, Chloé? What am I going to tell her?”

Truth be told, the idea that Audrey Bourgeois would even notice never weighed on Chloé’s mind. She won’t even notice. She doesn’t care what’s going on in my life. Never has, never will. The thought had been engraved in Chloé’s mind since she was a little girl, no matter how loudly she would deny it out loud or even to herself. For the first time in her life, the idea of her mother not paying her any attention didn’t seem so bad.

“Don’t be silly.” Chloé said, laughing in a way that only Sabrina could tell was a very nervous laugh. “Your head’s been in a tabloid all afternoon. Mom dropping in is about as likely as me being akumatized.” 

She reached out and put a shaking hand on Sabrina’s trembling shoulder, steadying her. Both of them were just starting to calm down when the door actually opened.

Both girls jumped, but to their relief it was only Chloé’s loyal (and long-suffering) butler. Chloé was about to remind him very rudely that she didn’t ask him to come up here when he quietly said, “Miss Chloé, I think it’s time for Sabrina to go home.”

Before Chloé could protest, the poor man was nearly shoved out of the way as there in the doorway stood a second figure, who radiated contempt. Audrey Bourgeois had come home.

Chloé tried to go to her mother, but Audrey whirled around to corner Sabrina, who was picking up her backpack. “You, get out now. I’m here to speak to my daughter and I can’t have you interrupting.”

Sabrina bolted through the door, too frightened to say that she’d been getting ready to leave anyway or even retrieve the rest of her stuff from the suite. She would have to come back for it later, after Audrey left.

Chloé, on the other hand, was excited for the visit. Despite her initial reaction. It was rare enough for her mother to come home and see her at all, but from the sound of it, she’d made the trip entirely for her. Usually her visits to Paris were on business or to yell at her father for something, but this time there was nothing to keep her busy. Even if her mom ended up chewing her out big time, it would still be nice to spend some time with her. 

“Mom, can we—” Chloé tried to ask something, but was quickly met by a well-manicured finger in her face. “Not another word. You’ve already said too much.” Chloé looked down at the floor, prepared for the tirade of insults and verbal humiliation that was coming her way. Sometimes she wondered if her mother would have cared for her at all if she hadn’t been a tithe.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my reputation? It’s humiliating! Your father and I have given you everything; the latest fashion, the best food, the best schools, and this is how you repay us? Frankly, Cleo, you’re lucky my agent could get this whole nightmare under control before the tabloids took it any further.”

Chloé dared for a brief second to look up and see the hint of a smile playing on her Mother’s lips. Chloé had seen that smile before, back when Audrey still lived at home and was ripping into a servant, or intern or a clerk or anyone who displeased her. As angry as it made her mother to be let down, she enjoyed belittling someone and making them feel like dirt at any opportunity.

Chloé’s hands balled into fists. What did her mom care if she had the finest food and the finest clothes? It wasn’t like any of it was really from her, just payments from the bank account. It wasn’t like she was actually there to see what Chloé was doing with it.

Chloé had a million things to say, all of which only would have made the situation worse. She was about to speak when her heart shattered. 

Audrey had lost interest mid-lecture. Her attention had turned to her phone, as usual.

 It doesn’t matter, Chloé thought, taking a few steps in her Mother’s direction. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me if it’s just a little longer.

What good did having another month or two do if she didn’t do what she’d always thought about, deep down? In that moment, Chloé was determined to take Audrey’s phone from her and throw it out the window. “Get off your phone,” Chloé growled under her breath, but Audrey didn’t even seem to have heard her. Audrey turned her back on Chloé and extended her pointer finger up in the air to indicate that Chloé needed to be quiet, like she was two.

“Well? I already paid for new corneas and irises, and I want results. The color’s natural, right? I am so done having pigment injections every month… She’s going into the Harvest Clinic in 15 minutes? Alright… Yes, you too, doctor, call me when you’re done.”

Chloé’s heart sank so far she felt like her own stomach would eat it up. Her mother had just discussed a teenage girl just like her as if she was spare parts.

She tried very hard to block out that thought. She wasn’t like that other girl; she was a tithe, not some teenage delinquent who got the police to drag her from her home. A lot of people needed parts to survive, after all, and nobody wanted a dangerous wild fugitive running loose. 

Usually that thought would have been enough for her to shake it off, but after last week, it made her feel even sicker. Sabrina wasn’t like that, was she? She was almost an unwind, even though she would have been desperately missed. What if that hadn’t been some criminal or dropout, just another girl like me whose parents thought she was too much trouble? Or had the bad luck to be Akumatized, just like Sabrina… A cold chill ran over Chloé as it occurred to her how easily that poor unwind girl her mother was talking about could have been the same one who had been Chloé’s meek little shadow since they were barely able to reach the elevator buttons.

And now, of course, she remembered Ivan. At the time she hadn’t thought much about his unwind order; in her mind if he was that unstable, it would have happened sooner or later anyway. Rumor had it he had killed his parents, especially after the way the news told the story. And only now, after hearing all sorts of wild things in the news and the magazines about herself, did Chloé now begin to consider that it was probably not true.

From the few times she’d taken any notice of him, Ivan wouldn't have hurt a fly. The idea of him brutally killing his parents was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous now that she gave it some thought. The infamous Akuma AWOL had been caught just a few days after the story hit the news, so now she and the rest of the world would never know the truth.

But even if he hadn’t killed his parents, he had a chance of not getting unwound, didn’t he? He had a chance at a whole life and he’d messed it up like every other unwind out there. He was the lucky one who got to pick what to do with his life, and he blew it. So didn’t that make it his fault?

Maybe if she kept telling herself that it would feel true in the end. Right now, she wondered if he had any more of a chance than she had now.

“—Are you listening to me? Krystal!”

 For a half second it didn’t register that she was the one her mother was talking to. Right, right, Mom doesn’t usually get my name right on the first try. A part of Chloé speculated that Audrey did it on purpose, like how she did to keep her staff in line. In a way, she would have preferred that; at least it would mean that she actually did remember her name. Just let her call you what she wants… You know you have to when she’s like this.

But Chloé’s iron will won out this time. “Actually Mom, it’s Chloé.” Chloé said, interrupting and immediately bracing herself for her mistake.

“Whatever,” Audrey said flatly, “as I was saying, Chlorine, you have completely and utterly made a mockery of what I have spent the last lifetime trying to build up: our reputation.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Chloé said, sounding sincere. She meant it every time, no matter how mean Audrey was, or how many times she put her down or how many times she had gotten her name wrong. The one thing that Chloé Bourgeois desperately wanted, the one thing that all her money couldn’t buy, was her mother’s attention.

“No you’re not. You’re never sorry, but this time you’re going to be.” Audrey’s  phone rang and it was against her ear again in an instant, leaving Chloé to her own dread.

“What do you mean you’re out of room? I don’t care if it’s crowded, just make some room. It’s only until the end of the school year anyway—”

Audrey cursed as whoever was on the phone hung up on her, bringing her attention fully onto Chloé again. “You are very lucky I have something important to deal with. Otherwise—” Here she went back on the phone, and Chloé was once again left wondering what was going to happen to her.

I’m just spare parts to her, too, Chloé thought numbly. One day soon, she’ll be on the phone with wherever they decided to send me to, talking about when I’ll be unwound so she can decide when she’ll have my hair implanted into her scalp or when my eyes put in her skull… (A part of her briefly entertained the idea of leaking it to the press that the last eye surgery wasn’t just cosmetic; her mother would hate anyone to know about the cataracts just starting to make themselves known with age.)

Now Audrey was gripping the phone almost tightly enough to crack a flawlessly manicured nail. “I don’t care if you’re not a boarding school! You said you had a spot open, didn’t you? She can sleep on the floor or something…”

A whole host of emotions went through Chloé’s mind. Was she being sent away already? There was annoyance at having to miss her own tithing party, blended with a bitter sad curiosity if either of her friends would manage without her. I didn’t even get to say goodbye…

And where was she being sent? The luxurious academies or resorts in France that only accepted tithes were full. Her own reservation was booked for her birthday, but what if her mom was finding somewhere to put her sooner, somewhere she didn’t want to imagine? And that would mean she wouldn’t get to be with Adrien, too… Wherever his father was sending him, it wouldn’t be a last-minute opening in the last harvest camp available.

But then Audrey was off the phone for the final time. “Until you can stop embarrassing yourself and me, you’re going to have to deal with a new arrangement. Starting as soon as her flight gets here, you have a roommate.”

And with that, Audrey left, and Chloé realized that her mother hadn’t been talking about her at all. It should have been an enormous relief, but somehow it wasn’t. It was hard to tell what left Chloé the most indignant: that she no longer had the luxury of her own suite all to herself, or that her mom hadn’t even given her much attention. This was just a way to get another couple of errands done, not something deserving of her real effort. Honestly, though, Chloé wasn’t sure what she’d expected.

It was all the same, anyway. To Audrey Bourgeois, nobody was irreplaceable. She could fire anyone she wanted.

Chapter Text

Why am I here again?

The question had run through Félix’s mind at least a hundred times in the last 15 minutes. He was going back to dear old Uncle Gabriel’s house, and his mom was also going back to dear old Uncle Gabriel’s house. The issue was keeping his visit a secret from her even though they would be there at the exact same time.

After his last visit, Félix was told by Amelie in the most gentle, beat-around-the-bush way that there was no way in Hell he was ever setting foot on the Agreste Estate again. “I just can’t believe he gave you all that alcohol.” Félix had heard his mother over and over as he laid in bed recovering from his hangover. It was one of the only times that he had seen her genuinely angry. I wonder if I’ll get that side of her directed at me if she catches me doing this?

Félix gulped.

Amelie was sitting where any sane, rational, decent human being would sit— in the front passenger seat. Félix considered himself rational (if not decent), but right now he was not sold on being sane. After all, what sane person who could have spent a comfortable afternoon home alone, playing video games and doing whatever he wanted with only their next door neighbor occasionally checking in would prefer a long, cramped ride in the trunk of a rental car? Getting in here without his mother or their driver seeing him had been quite a trick, and it was the easy part.

 Amelie was going because being the blessed and gracious woman that she was, she somehow thought she could convince her brother-in-law not to tithe Adrien. Although Félix knew his mother was a kind woman who saw the best in everyone, for this he cursed her as a fool in his head. She should have known by now that Gabriel would never listen. Gabriel was a horrible man, a back-stabbing and conniving man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

Well, two can play at that game, old man. You give me the opportunity, and I can see to it that you and my aunt will be together again a lot sooner than even you anticipate.

He’d had a lot to think about coming off of his first hangover, but his thoughts kept circling back around to killing his uncle. Poisoning Gabriel’s booze was his number one choice, but he had thought of numerous “accidents” that could be arranged. But now he could stand again without shaking, (at least before he crammed himself into the back of this car that seemed to hit every pothole and slam on breaks at every roundabout and crosswalk from here to Paris) all he could think about was Adrien.

Félix was here for the one person who didn’t give him a suspicious glance or talk behind his back. Adrien had always been good to him, always been there to play with him when they were little, or be an ear to listen. He'd always been a good friend, even when the favor wasn’t exactly returned. It’s for his sake that Félix was here.

His mom hadn’t put any luggage in the trunk, which confirmed what he suspected— this was a day trip. She would be in and out, and he had to get back even before she did.

He heard the awful screeching of the iron gate— after so many years of barely moving, it desperately needed to be oiled. Then came the click of the car door opening and his mother’s voice. “I shouldn’t be too long.” Then in a softer tone, “Please be ready, in case I have to pick someone up.”

Félix could have thrown something if he hadn’t been snugly enclosed in an empty trunk. What did she think she was going to do, pick Adrien up and march him out to the car? Uncle Gabriel didn’t let the kid go to school without a personal bodyguard. When Gabriel refused to change his mind, she wouldn’t have a chance at getting Adrien out.

Félix took a deep breath and waited for his mother’s footsteps to disappear. It was up to him now.

He carefully popped open the safety latch and inched the trunk open. Sure enough, the car was just inside the gates. Gabriel’s security cameras captured every detail of a visiting car, but they couldn’t see something that had just been let in.

As quietly as he could, Félix climbed out of the trunk and rolled under the car. It smelled terrible, but from where he was he could just tell his mom was at the front door arguing with someone.

“Amelie, I’m truly sorry, but Mr. Agreste is not seeing visitors today.” Nathalie was trying to block Amelie’s path, but not very well. She was leaning on the door frame for support and barely stayed on her feet. Had Amelie been that sort of person, she probably could have pushed her to the ground and stormed in.

But she was losing focus already. “Are you sure you’re alright, Nathalie?”

To Félix’s annoyance, she actually put an arm around her and helped her through the door. “You should get off your feet.” Unbelievable, Mom.

But it was just as well, really. In Amelie’s hurry to get Nathalie to sit down, the front door had been left slightly open.

First things first. Félix stood in front of the mirror wearing a fresh set of Adrien’s clothes. (His own were smeared with motor oil and dirt and had been unceremoniously stuffed into the trash.) If anyone did see him wandering around, he couldn’t be recognized. Besides, it was good to be in clean clothes again, even if his last growth spurt did make them a bit tight. Fortunately, it didn’t look as obvious as it felt.

He ruffled his fingers back through his hair, trying to get it to stick up like Adrien’s did. Either he has to be spending all day preening his hair to get it to look like this, or he just rolls out of bed with it. I don’t know which.

Félix looked in the mirror and saw that once again, his hair had naturally fallen back into place. At this rate I might as well lick my hand and run it through my hair like a cat. Then, almost gagging, he decided to do it. If he didn’t and someone saw him, it probably wouldn’t be enough to tell them apart, but it might. So he licked the palms of his hands and ran them though his hair. Good enough for government work anyway.

He almost left then, but out of the corner of his cunning eyes he saw something infuriating. Félix spat out quite a tirade of profanity as he noticed the tube of hair mousse sitting on one of the rich mahogany dressers. While he quickly rubbed the mousse through his hair, he also spotted a bottle of Adrien; the Fragrance next to it. 

Having a bunch of people buy a cologne that’s supposed to simulate smelling your son. Not creepy at all, Gabriel, Félix thought. Not only was there the plan to harvest his own son’s organs, but apparently dear old Uncle Gabriel was going to nickel and dime every cent out of him before he used him for spare parts. What a creep.

Félix stood there for a minute, trying to think of any good reason why he should or shouldn’t use it. Just when his mind was almost made up, he saw the bottle had never been opened. Guess he doesn’t touch the stuff!

He almost laughed.

After a couple of spins in the mirror, Félix decided that he looked enough like his cousin to get by. Time to go exploring.

Then the door opened from right behind him. Félix froze, thinking that the real Adrien must have walked in on him. But when he processed who was really standing there, he was sure he was dead.

Gabriel didn’t look happy at all. The way the light came into the room cast shadows around him, leaving him cloaked in darkness. And in an instant, Félix knew his mission was over.  

I’m dead, Félix thought as he desperately racked his brain for any reasonable excuse to be in this country, in his cousin’s room, wearing his clothes. I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m super dead…

“What are you doing in here?” demanded Gabriel, closing the door behind him. Adrien was still home somewhere, and he was wearing a different outfit. For all of Félix’s fuss over his hair, he’d entirely forgotten Adrien only wore white now. So stupid…

To Félix’s horror and complete disbelief, his uncle opened the door to Adrien’s closet and pulled out what appeared to be an actual sword! Why does he have that? Forget him, why does Adrien have that? It seemed bizarre to Félix that his uncle would barely let Adrien out of the house, but had no problem with having swords laying around.

Bet he always wanted to kill someone with a sword… Just like me. There was no way out of this. In a moment he would feel cold steel enter his body and be coughing up blood, just like in one of those swordfighting movies that had inspired him to pick up the blade and study stage swordplay himself. As Gabriel took the last few steps, Félix managed to say something. “I—”

“I,” Gabriel said almost mockingly, “don’t want another word out of you. We agreed that if you started going to school, you would still keep up with all your lessons.”

Félix’s stunned expression was mercifully misread by his uncle, who handed him the sword along with what looked like a beekeeping suit. Now that he could see it, Félix was almost disgusted that he’d been so afraid of a fencing foil with a safety tip.“This week you’ve already missed your Chinese language tutoring for your checkup. You’re not missing fencing practice too.”

Sports fencing? Really? Félix would have preferred the theatrics of stage fighting.

“And I don’t want to catch you out of your tithing whites again, Adrien. Since you can’t be bothered to follow simple directions, you’re grounded until you can behave yourself.”

And thus Félix’s mission was ruined (along with Adrien’s weekend, apparently). He sat fuming in the backseat as the limo drove him away from the Agreste estate and to a fencing lesson that he was not looking forward to, for many reasons.

Chapter Text

“Alya, you can’t publish that!”

 The entire class could hear Marinette and Alya arguing in an empty room. Unbeknownst to both, most of them were crowded outside the door listening.

“I put too much work into this, no way I’m throwing it away!” Alya retorted angrily. The two of them had been at it for 10 minutes and things had more or less devolved into a shouting match between the two best friends. “People need to know this is happening. That’s my job as a journalist, Marinette, to report the truth!” 

“But Alya, are you thinking what might happen to you? You’ve already had people send threats—”

“It’s a handful of anonymous comments. Most of them aren’t even spelled correctly. That’s the world we live in, Marinette. People leave mean comments. You can’t be too sensitive in my line of work.” 

“That’s not the point! Something could happen to you!”

“Like what happened to our friends?” Alya’s voice was lower now, and the crowd of eavesdroppers had to huddle close to make out her voice. “Nobody did anything to help them, and nobody even knew about this. If people know, that’s the first step to making sure this never happens again.”

“But what about you?” Marinette said, lowering her voice. Not all of Marinette’s powers came from her earrings— being a superhero meant you learned to fine-tune your senses, and right now Marinette could almost feel the crowd of people forming at the door. Please, Alya, don’t say anything they shouldn’t hear…

“What about you?” Alya asked back, crossing her arms.

“What about me?” Marinette asked. Marinette could hear accusation in Alya’s voice. The mission when she had given Alya the Fox as Ladybug flashed through her mind. Does she know?

But then Alya turned her back on her and either let out an angry huff or a disappointed sigh. “Remember what you told me on the first day the Akumas showed up? “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.” Now someone is finally doing something and you want me to stop.”

Marinette might have tried to explain, really explain, and maybe even apologize, but then Alya rubbed salt in the wound. “We can’t all just wait for Ladybug or Chat Noir to come and rescue us. At some point, the  rest of us are going to have to save ourselves.” Her tone said everything she was holding back. 

She knows. Marinette’s eyes widened and she couldn’t hear anything but her own heartbeat. She has to. She’s not saying anything. but she knows... and she didn’t post anything about it. A part of her screamed at her to confront Alya head-on, but she knew practically the whole class was listening by now. She hasn’t said or posted anything? But would she, if she did know?

Marinette needed some excuse to change topics, anything to make this conversation go in a different direction. Lucky for her, the universe had seemingly decided she could have a break once in a while. The door opened, and Kim, whose ear had been pressed tightly against it, tumbled into the room with a sheepish grin. He was quickly covered with the other students who had been listening falling on top of him.

Both girls took a long look at the pile of eavesdroppers. All of them were piled on top of each other except for Chloé, who was leaning on the opposite side of the door frame looking bored. Marinette saw Sabrina in the pile and knew that as usual, Chloé made her do all the dirty work. One day you take the fall for her, and the next she’s back to being your personal slave? Make up your mind, Chloé! Marinette instantly regretted the thought, but with the way Chloé was smirking at her fight with her best friend, a very small part of her sort of wished she’d vocalized it. 

An awkward silence hung over the room, and was only broken by Kim who looked up from the floor at Alya and gave a little wave. “Hey, Alya. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much, Kim, just explaining to some people the importance of journalism. Especially when it comes to exposing how our society will find any excuse in the book to use us for spare parts.” She extended her hand to Kim, who pulled himself up and nearly pulled her over in the process. Marinette looked over the pile of kids trying to inconspicuously get back in the hallway, and to her everlasting embarrassment she locked eyes with Adrien, who turned slightly red and looked away. Marinette wanted the ground to just swallow her up. She was almost grateful when she heard another girl’s voice from the crowd… until she recognized who was talking.

“Well, I for one am very eager to hear what you have to say, Alya!” Everyone looked up to see Lila, who somehow hadn’t been in the pile of eavesdroppers on the floor just seconds ago. “It’s good to know we have someone who cares about what happens to us kids, especially since two of us are slated to have our guts ripped out regardless on how we behave.”

Adrien flinched, but before Marinette could check on him, the bell rang to tell the school it was the end of lunch period. As the crowd gathered and funneled back into their classrooms, it shifted around Lila and Alya, widening the distance between Marinette and her best friend.

(Nobody saw Chloé edge closer to a very pale Sabrina, grab her hand and give it a quick squeeze.)

All Marinette wanted to do was make herself invisible, which was nearly done for her by everyone turning their attention to Alya and what she’d posted (and Lila, who was making herself out to be some sort of budding revolutionary). The only thing keeping her from going home early that day was that she’d already been in enough trouble with her parents over her spotty attendance record. True, she only missed so much school because of Ladybug duties, but considering how many parents could turn on a dime and sign their kids off over nothing, she didn’t push it.

A few times she’d tried to work up the nerve to talk to Alya again, but every time she even got close she heard her chattering with Lila. After class was over for the day, she hid out in the bathroom for a full 30 minutes waiting for the voices and footsteps to fade away. When Marinette at last made her way to her locker, there were no after-school clubs or detention left and even the janitor was on the opposite end of the school. She was alone.

 I should be used to it by now.

“Are you—”

She was so lost in wondering what she could have done different that she dropped her bag in sheer terror when Tikki finally felt safe to talk.

Tikki flinched at Marinette’s startled yelp. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Marinette sat down and the floor next to her bags, which had spilled everywhere. “Don’t do that! Do you always scare your handler like this or is it just me?” 

Tikki looked as if she shrank two sizes, and it looked to Marinette like she might have been turning to leave. Afraid of losing another friend, Marinette jumped to her feet.“Wait, Tikki, don’t go!” 

Tiki stopped in midair and Marinette froze, horrified at her slip-up and listening for anyone who might have overheard. She picked up her belongings and reached out. “I’m so sorry, Tikki. None of this is your fault.”

Tikki landed in her outstretched hand. “Want to talk about it?”

Her first impulse was to say no, but once she gave it some thought… it actually sounded really good. “I do.”

She opened her purse, where she’d left a little space right where she knew Tikki liked to sit. “Come on, we’ll talk about it on the way home.”

The Kwami smiled softly and nestled herself in Marinette’s purse. The two of them headed back to the bakery, talking softly enough to keep their conversation hidden from any nearby strangers.

“Do you think she knows, Tikki?” Marinette  asked  mournfully, “I thought I did such a good job keeping it a secret from everyone.”

“Alya’s a smart girl, Marinette. If anyone did figure out your secret, it was going to be her.”

Marinette could have sworn Tikki was trying to suppress a slight smile, and she knew her kwami was right. There was no use hiding anything from Alya for very long. “Then why didn’t you stop me when I wanted to make Alya a holder in the first place?” 

Tikki seemed like she almost said something else, but then changed her mind. “I had my doubts at first, but you knew she was the best person available. And you were right— you know her well. For those missions, she was a good choice.”

Marinette was very quiet for a minute, and then—

“Hey, Tikki?”

“What is it?”

She paused. “Was I a good choice?”

Tikki sat up and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I just… I think someone else would have been better as Ladybug.” Her voice caught for a moment. “Do you think so too? If you could pick another holder right now, would you want to?”

Tikki reached out of the purse to hold Marinette’s hand for a moment. “There’s nobody in Paris or in this world I’d rather have as my holder.”

“But I couldn’t save everyone like I was supposed to.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Marinette. You’re still learning, and so is everyone. You and Chat Noir are the reason the city hasn’t fallen to Hawkmoth yet, and no matter what he throws at you, you never give up. Even on the worst days, you’ve never lost a fight and you always get back up again when you fall. You’re a good Ladybug, but that’s not all you are.”

Marinette lowered her voice again, a little nervous for the answer. “What am I?”

Tikki looked up at her.

“You’re the city’s last hope.”

Chapter Text

Felix skulked from the backseat of the limo to the front doors of a large building. The entire time, he was irritatingly aware of the hulking giant of a man following him. Felix was starting to see why Adrien (playfully) called his bodyguard “The Gorilla”. No wonder his cousin spent so much time locked up in his room. Every time he went anywhere else, he had someone tailing him.

Adrien’s bodyguard headed for a nearby room and opened the door, which was very fortunate since Felix was trying to hide the fact that he had no idea where he was going. There were two people already inside; a kid about his height already suited up for the lesson, mask and all, and a man who Felix knew must be the coach.

The man looked vaguely familiar, and Felix finally recognized where he’d seen him before: on a local news channel that had been on at the hotel during his mother’s last Adrien-rescue mission. He’d been trying to play the cutthroat and petty game of Parisian politics, and if Felix was honest, if he’d been a French citizen and of age he’d probably have voted for him. The man was mad! Completely obsessed with Dumas and chivalry, a mad history professor who changed his name after a famous medieval battle; Agincourt, the battle where a whole generation of French nobility made a mad, greedy, leaderless slog though the mud to the English line to capture noble prisoners, only to be cut down by English archers. He’s crazy, not only to name himself after a battle, but a battle that your side lost that badly. A part of Felix admired that.

Whatever his old name was, it had been had been lost to time. Amelie had him as a professor when she was in college and according to her, D’Argencourt hadn’t changed a bit from her classroom days to his TV appearances. “He’s a very nice man,” she’d said when she saw what Felix was watching, “talented swordsman, too. I’ve never seen him fence, but I’ve been to his office and he has tons of medals!”

Felix had never actually had any kind of swordfighting lessons, unless copying the moves from movie scenes could count. Now, however, it looked like he would get a chance.

“Sorry I’m late, Mr. D’Argencourt.” Felix said apologetically. Adrien apologizes for things, right? That sounds like an Adrien thing to do.

D’Argencourt just shook his head. “Tut, tut, tut, Mr. Agreste. Apologize all you want, it won’t make the hands on the clock move backwards—”

He gave Felix a scrutinizing look. “Where’s your mask?”

(Felix remembered leaving it in the limo and wondered if it was too late to just go with the driver back to the mansion before he made things worse.)

But D’Argencourt just shook his head. “Oh, never mind. Take the spare from my office so we can get this going. You know the code, it’s very rude to keep your opponent waiting.”

 “It worked well enough for Musashi,” Felix muttered under his breath. He’d seen a documentary about the famous Samurai who won his first duel at 13 with a wooden sword by flaunting Bushido’s strict honor code. He realized that his muttering hadn’t been quiet enough when he felt D’Argencourt give him a hearty smack on the back.

Felix froze, alarm bells going off in his brain like old times. Now I’m in for it.

But to his bewilderment, the coach let out a hearty laugh. “That’s more like it, Mr. Agreste, that’s the spirit I like to see! And you know of Musashi too.” He turned to the other kid, who was waiting nearby. “See, Kagami, doing the recommended reading really does help!” 

The other kid did a slow clap, then gestured for Felix to stop dragging his feet and get the fencing mask. He must not be fond of teacher’s pets, then. Can’t blame.

Once Felix figured out how to put the mask on, he took up his (Adrien’s) fencing saber and focused on everything he’d ever seen on fencing. Felix had been a fan of watching swordfights when he was younger, mainly HEMA, but he did watch the Olympic fencing events when they came around. Luckily, he still remembered enough  about the stances to not look like he had no idea what he was doing. I should be able to pull this off.

However, there was one slight defect.

“Mr. Agreste, I didn’t know you trained with your left hand too. Bravo!”

Felix was glad nobody could see him go bright red from under the mesh of his fencing mask. “Yeah, I’ve been practicing at home a bit.”

If I switch to my right hand now, I’ll barely be able to hold the sword, and Adrien’s right-handed and then both of them will know that I’m not Adrien. Felix’s eyes darted around the room, looking for a distraction. His eyes finally landed on a few fenders mounted on the wall. Bingo.

“Can we use those?” Felix asked, as offhandedly as he could make himself sound. Inside his mind, though, he was was freaking out. The only consolation was that he was wearing a fencing mask so D’Argencourt and the other boy couldn’t see that his face was flushed or how much he was sweating.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Agreste, but those are for another class,” D’Argencourt said rather tightly, “And besides, you know your father’s rules.” He nearly spat out that last part.

“Would you mind refreshing me?” The words were out of Felix’s mouth before he could stop himself. He couldn’t see his opponent’s face, but somehow he looked like he was fed up with the stalling and about ready to run him through before the match even got started.  

“Your father…” D’Argencourt said, barely keeping the disdain from his voice, “says he doesn’t want you to study HEMA because he worries a more violent and offensive-driven system may lead to injuries. He was very clear that he would not tolerate any of your parts being damaged, and...” Felix could hear the growl in his voice and at once knew where the prospective mayor stood on the unwinding issue.

He seemed lost in his own thoughts for a minute before snapping out of it, never saying the rest. “Besides, you haven’t trained with those before. I’m sorry I can’t help, my boy. I didn’t realize you had an interest in that style.” He seemed truly apologetic that he couldn’t teach Felix what he wanted to know.

But then he smiled, with the look of someone with one more great trick up his sleeve. “No need to feel left out, though. I can assure you that modern sports fencing is at least an adequate representation for the small sword, which is itself an evolution of the rapier.” D’Argencourt then went on to regale him with the story behind the sport, with Felix unexpectedly captivated.

“Sports fencing does not simulate a battlefield at land, sea or otherwise. It represents a duel. Most duels of the the past were fought to the first blood and were not intended to be lethal, although results varied.” He demonstrated a few particularly impressive moves with a practice sword before catching a glance at his watch and turning back to Felix. “But it’s past time for you two to begin practice. Now, my friends, take your positions.”

Felix and the other kid both took their en garde positions. Now that D’Argencourt’s impromptu display was over, he could feel all his frustration and bitterness seeping back in. 

Man, today I haven’t helped Adrien at all! All I managed to do is get him in trouble with his dad and make his fencing partner sick of him. In spite of himself,  Felix smiled. I’m truly awful, aren’t I?

 “Ready?” D’Argencourt asked with all the tension of a real standoff, nearly in a beginning stance himself.

What a drama queen, Felix thought, all the while taking special care to keep an eye on his opponent. 

“En Garde!” D’Argencourt declared, and the match had begun.

The other kid was good. He parried every attack Felix threw at him, but despite all the skill and training, he obviously wasn’t used to fighting lefties. Felix got in a good thrust and drew first point. “Point, Mr Agreste.” D’Argencourt said, then after waiting on Felix for a moment, chided “Back to your positions please. En Garde!” 

Round two did not go well for Felix. This kid might have been a little slow on the draw in the first round, but he was smart enough to adapt his technique quickly. Not ten seconds in, Felix went in for a high thrust and the kid ducked and got him in the belly.

Felix vaguely heard the coach calling the point, but already he was so fixated on the match that all he registered was the glint of the practice swords and his opponent’s every move. This was a duel, and he was determined to be the victor.

The next rounds flashed by in a flurry of steel and when D’Argencourt finally called out for him to stop, it took Felix several moments to fully remember where he was.

“And I’m going to stop you for now. Mr. Agreste, work on your stances.” Then D’Argencourt grinned. “But I’m very impressed with your offensive moves! You really have been working on those since we last met. Just keep your footwork in mind and don’t lose those defensive skills, alright?”

“And as for you—” He started to say something to the other boy, but his phone buzzed in his pocket with a news alert. “Ah, the results are in! Would you two kindly excuse me for a second?”

He’s not coming back, Felix thought. He’d heard that same question too many times (albeit less politely), and it usually ended with hours in the phone. It left Felix to his own devices, which suited him just fine.

But then there was an angry yell. Felix rushed to the window in time to see Adrien’s teacher, the former professor and prestigious athlete, slash a campaign poster to bits with a fencing foil. Felix watched, nearly awestruck and enjoying the display a little too much. If I had my phone, this would be going straight to the internet.

Then out of nowhere a black butterfly landed on the man and he began to spasm oddly. A gloved hand grabbed Felix’s shoulder and dragged him away from the window.

“Hey! Let go of me,” he snapped, trying to shove his opponent away. Man, this kid was strong.

The other kid pulled him over to a bench far from the windows or doors, then sat down and started polishing his sword. Felix crossed his arms. “Don’t grab me like that.”

“You know better than be near a window during an Akuma attack.”

That voice…

Wait—

Without another word, the kid took off his— no, her mask. She shook her head, letting her short, raven-feather hair fall loose almost to her shoulders. And when she turned her head to look at him, those eyes…

She was looking at him. Wait, was he staring at her? He had to say something quick before she asked what was wrong with him.

“So…” he said, making his best attempt at a confident grin, “I’m pretty great with a sword, aren’t I?”

“Not really. Your form was sloppy and you treated the rapier like it was a sabre.” She took a sip out of her water bottle. “You just caught me off guard because of that advance you made. It was much more assertive than your usual approach and if you’d been paying attention, you could have kept that advantage.”

She got straight to the point, didn’t she? No making him guess what she really meant. He’d had enough of people pretending and making him play along. (Although, come to think of it, he was pretending he was his cousin… but that was kind of different, wasn’t it?)

“How was I? Any critique?” Kagami took a small pouch out of her duffel bag and took out two tiny bottles. “You haven’t said a word for longer than usual.”

She put a drop from each bottle into both her eyes, then packed everything up again. “My mother added another serum to my usual regimen to make sure I maintain prime physical condition.”

“You already do,” blurted out Felix much to his immediate embarrassment. What happened to playing it cool? Sure, she was really pretty and also possibly the coolest person he’d ever met, but he didn’t need to say that!

But Kagami simply nodded. “I do my best. As a tithe yourself, I’m sure you understand—”

“You’re a tithe?” Felix hadn’t meant to interrupt. He gripped Adrien’s fencing sword so tightly that he nearly cut through the fabric of his gloves.

“Not in the traditional sense of the word, but in a way, you’re correct.” Kagami blinked until traces of the eyedrops ran down her face. Maybe it was just the drops making her eyes catch the light, but they shimmered just like polished jasper. “It’s no secret that I was raised to be unwound. Unlike yourself, though, I was quite literally made for it.” 

She wiped her face, leaving no trace that her eyes had been anything but dry a moment ago. “My mother had my genetic modifications patented before I was even past the first trimester. She’s especially proud of her work on my eyes, which I suspect she wants.”

For the second time that day, Felix was too stunned to speak.

It took a good ten seconds before he could get the words out, both from rage and from how strange his head felt just thinking about her.

“She wants— That’s sick, Kagami. She can’t just do that to you.” In a brief flight of fancy, he imagined himself hiding someplace and waiting for Kagami’s Mom to come within stabbing distance. 

However, this fantasy was abruptly interrupted by Kagami. “Of course she can. That type of bioengineering is fully legal where we live.” She took another sip of her water. “At the time it was technically legal everywhere, given that it was too recent of an innovation to have any legislation over it. And if I’m not mistaken, you may be biologically enhanced too. Possibly some form of altered cloning— you look just like your mother if she were a boy. We had this conversation a week ago, remember?”

She blinked the last traces of the serum out of her eyes. “Besides, there wouldn’t have any chance of transplant rejection. I’m made to be a true universal donor, so it would all work out.” 

 “Not for you!”

By the looks of things, Felix’s luck was finally out. Kagami slowly set down her water bottle and did the worst possible thing for Felix at the moment. She had a really good look at him. 

“You’re not Adrien.” It wasn’t a question.

Felix gulped.

Before he could say anything, Kagami reopened her Hello Kitty fencing bag and pulled out a rapier. Not the practice fencing swords that just barely mimicked a small sword; this was the real deal. Elegant, beautiful and deadly. 

Just like you, Kagami…

Felix flew down a hallway, Kagami hot on his heels. Under different circumstances, having her chase me would be about the funnest thing I could think of. For half a second he grinned like a little kid. The cheekier part of him wanted to say so out loud, but the more rational part knew that wouldn’t give him a better chance of making it out in one piece.

Turning the corner, he found himself at the edge of a hallway that was in the middle of being cleaned. The janitor, a quiet and unassuming grandfather named Spiegel, looked up to see two kids running in his nice clean hall. His first instinct was to yell and scold the two spoiled brats who had the privilege of attending fencing classes with Monsieur D'Argencourt, but when he saw that one of them was chasing the other with a very real-looking and very sharp sword, he decided he’d let this one slide. 

His nice clean floors forgotten for the moment, the poor man tried to get out of their way. but it was too late. The two teenagers nearly ran him over, and he tripped, taking his mop and pail down with him.

All he could do was pick up his mop and wait for those crazy kids to stop crashing around. When his shift was done, he really did have to ask about that retirement package.

Felix nearly felt himself slip several times as he ran down the newly mopped hallway. Just my rotten luck, he thought, and sure enough, a couple of seconds later he tripped right over the janitor’s mop. 

Spiegel chuckled in spite of himself. “Buddy, what did you do to make your girl so angry?” 

Although Felix was on his back, the devious little wheels in his head were beginning to turn. In an instant he was on his feet, brandishing the fallen mop in a stance straight out of an old swashbuckler.

The masks were off. In this bout between Kagami and Felix, neither was constrained by points or D’Argencourt. The only rule was to hit the other without getting hit themselves. Kagami had the only real weapon and was therefore more confident, but this cost her as she overextended herself in a lunge that probably would have skewed Felix’s chest if he hadn’t been so sharp himself. Instead of the feeling of a popped balloon, she was instead returned with a sharp whack of the mop’s handle on her forearm. She rubbed her arm angrily, and the impostor smirked at her. “This is all unnecessary, tell you what! Let’s flip a coin! Heads says I surrender, tails says we go out on a date!” 

The nerve of this boy! Kagami took a thrust at his head and no sooner did the rapier go whizzing by did Felix feel something warm drip down the side of his right cheek.

Great, now how am I going to explain this to Mom?

“That was your last warning,” Kagami said, “Now tell me where Adrien is or I’m going for an eye!” 

Felix smiled and got back into his stance. I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass.

Kagami resisted the impulse to charge Felix. She may have known her way around a sword, but she was not hotheaded. Her advances were calculated, even as she looked like a madwoman trying her best to run this obnoxious little boy through.

Felix was still holding his own, but there really wasn’t much he could do when she had a live sword and all he had was a mop—wait, now half a mop! This is how I’m going to die, Felix thought, not my uncle, not Nathalie, just this girl with pretty eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a very sharp sword. He was backed into a corner now and in a moment of clumsiness lost his footing on the wet floor, landing flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

Felix saw Kagami’s grip tighten on her sword, and he was sure the bloodlust must have built up in her something horrible. All it would take was a quick thrust to the heart.

He was so close to the front entrance of the building, but the patch of floor underneath him was too slick for him to even get up. He was flat on his back and could see right into those eyes.

Just look at her… it’s about to be over and she’s still so beautiful. He tried closing his eyes but found he couldn’t keep his gaze off Kagami. Heartbreaker, Felix thought, in every sense of the title.

The moment before both Felix and Kagami both found out if she really would have taken the chance, something miraculous happened. The door opened and a very disheveled and exhausted Armand D'Argencourt stumbled back through the door. “Class is over for today… Put your swords away and go home.” Then he closed the door.

Kagami helped him without lowering the blade. “You still owe me an explanation.”

Felix nodded. “Fair enough.”

For a girl who Felix thought was going to kill him only a few minutes ago, Kagami was very caring and took her time to be gentle with patching him up. While she put band-aids and ointment from her mom’s company on his cuts and scrapes, Felix told her why he was really here. Not the whole story (he needed that for insurance), but enough to where he started to wonder why he was telling her quite so much. 

“So Emilie Agreste never left Paris?” Kagami asked as she smeared ointment on Felix’s cheek. 

He nodded, blushing a little while Kagami wiped the side of his face clean. She was handling his secret amazingly well, and he had to give her credit for keeping such a level head.

She wiped away a stray droplet of ointment with her thumb. “And that’s why he’s having Adrien unwound, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Felix said, inadvertently turning his eyes away from  Kagami. All at once he felt her gently but firmly tilting his head up so she could get at a scrape, and he realized he was blushing again.

 “Hold still.” 

Felix did the best he could. When she finished and was packing the first-aid kit again, she asked, “Who else knows?”

“Nathalie’s in on it,” Felix blurted out. He felt himself going red again, wondering why he kept telling her more than he meant to. It was like his brain was refusing to work when he was near her.

“Of course she does,” Kagami said, putting the tube of her mother’s ointment formula back in her fencing bag. “She barely leaves his side…” She was starting to look unsettled now, and seemed more on guard than before.

“Nathalie’s not that creepy,” Felix protested. “She’s nice to Adrien and she doesn’t like that he’s being tithed.” Why are you defending her? Just keep your mouth shut before you spill everything, stupid…

But before Kagami could ask him anything else, her phone buzzed. She immediately picked it up and frowned. “I have to go.”

“What? Why?” It annoyed Felix that as much Kagami could put his plan in jeopardy with what she could uncover, he really didn’t want her to leave yet.

“Fencing practice is over. My mother’s sending the car.” Kagami picked up her fencing bag. “She would have sent it earlier, but she didn’t want me to come near the Agreste manor until a security incident was resolved. Apparently this woman somehow came inside and refused to leave until your uncle threatened to call the police. I wonder who she was and why she wanted to speak to him so badly.”

Felix nodded, then jumped to his feet with a jolt as he realized what that meant. “I have to go too, sorry, Kagami!”
 
He scrambled out of the fencing suit, stuffed it into Adrien’s locker (he’ll find it, he has to look in his own locker sooner or later) and raced out of the building like his life depended on it. If he hurried, maybe he could catch the train before someone caught him.

It had been a long day for Amelie Graham De Vanily, and it would be no exaggeration to say that getting home would be the only good part of it. After kissing her son goodbye (to which he protested immensely, and reminded her that he was a teenager now), she’d headed off early in the morning to spend all day in transit only to never even see Gabriel. Nathalie had relayed messages back and forth until finally a business partner who somehow apparently found a way into that hermit’s office informed her that if she did not leave now, Gabriel was going to call the police. The whole day had been absolutely wasted, and she didn’t even catch a glimpse of her nephew.

But at least she wasn’t getting back so late that Felix wouldn’t still be up. She could tell him goodnight before she went to bed and let this whole awful day finally end.

Admittedly, she hadn’t liked the idea of leaving Felix home alone all day, but it was better than letting Gabriel anywhere near him. A neighbor had been kind enough to check in for her (albeit with complaints that Felix was blasting the TV loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear), but all the same, she would have been more comfortable if Felix had actually come to the door.

As she rounded the corner, there was a small flash of light down the street that immediately flickered out of view, like someone holding a flashlight. Residential zone or not, Amelie made it down to her address in about half the time it usually took. As soon as she was stopped, she pulled out her phone and sent a text.

Felix, if you’re still awake, unlock the door for me.

She waited by the front door, but there was no click of the lock from the other side. Noticing with a rising sense of dread that he wasn’t answering, she took a deep breath, unlocked the door and took in the scene in the living room.

I should have guessed. She shook her head and closed the door behind herself. Why did I get so worked up?

Felix was lounging half-asleep on the couch. His bare feet stuck out from under a blanket and there were several half-empty snack wrappers on the end table. (Amelie normally would have reminded him not to eat on the couch without a plate, but that could wait until it was light out.) The TV was halfway through a movie that they’d both seen about a dozen times each, and Felix’s phone was plugged in and charging… on the other side of the room.

He yawned. “Oh, you’re home already? I must have fallen asleep.”

Felix was far more awake than he looked, and he could only hope that his hastily thrown-together illusion was enough. His mother was looking at him rather strangely, and he wondered if she might have seen him sneaking back in. “How did the trip go?”

“It… was alright, I guess.” She was forcing her smile. “Are you sure you didn’t mind being all by yourself?”

“It was fine.” Felix held the blanket so it wouldn’t shift. If she saw the band-aids, it would be a problem. “I was in the bathroom when someone came to check in and by the time I got out she was already gone. I hope I didn’t scare you or something.”

She looked relieved, so he must have said the right thing. But she was still giving him the strangest look.

“Is something wrong, Mom?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing, I just…” She trailed off.

Now Felix was starting to worry. What was he thinking, letting her go alone to Gabriel’s mansion? Did something happen while he was at fencing class?

“Mom. You can tell me if— if something happened.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that! But Felix…”

She took a few steps closer and gave him a long, puzzled look.

“Why on Earth did you do your hair like Adrien’s?”

Chapter Text

Just like every other day at the museum, Alim was there early in the morning, before the sun rose, before the first visitors of the day came through the door. However, today he wasn’t here to open the museum. He was there to clear out of his office.

 Alim hadn’t been fired. After an expensive restoration, the tablet was actually in better condition than before Alix had destroyed it. The department saw no reason why he shouldn’t continue his work. In fact, several heads of department had been by over the last few days to beg him to stay.

(Lelandais had been conspicuously absent from these, and had protested tremendously when the museum wouldn’t fire him. Alim had seen him around, and had almost gotten into a fight with him when Lelandais passed him by and coughed, “Feral delinquent, spare parts!” Alim had to resist the urge, and on that day he actually threw a coffee cup against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.)

For the first couple of days, he’d tried to go back to work. Alix was gone, but he still had Jalil to think about. So for the sake of his son, he had to keep pushing through. 

That all changed the day that he got the message from the museum that the payment had gone through, and the little incident was all cleared up. Something just felt dirty about the whole thing. No matter how precious the artifact was, it was still just stone. He skipped work the next day, and was drawn like a moth to a flame to the places where Alix had preformed some stupid dangerous trick or another. He saw Kim at one of stairwells, riding his skateboard with the sort of reckless abandonment only a person deep in mourning possesses. Alim was rooted to the spot, like one of the many ancient statues at his museum. He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy. When Kim noticed him, he gave him the finger. Alim went home that night and cried himself to sleep.

He came back to work the next day and it was worse than ever. Once upon a time, he saw treasures from ancient and lost civilizations, beautiful and priceless works of art. Now all he could see were… objects. He tried to banish these feelings by going on a tour of the museum, run by his favorite tour guide and close friend. That didn’t help either, though; as a bunch of tourists marveled at the ancient tablet and how it survived all these thousands of years, all Alim could think was A child’s life, my child’s life has been exchanged in value for a lifeless thing.

The rational part of him didn’t blame the entire museum for what Lelandais and the anonymous tipster had done. But the even more rational part of him knew that he was grieving, had every right to grieve and that it was time for a change in scenery. So he packed up his office, put in his two weeks notice and left the museum.

After picking up the last box from his office and forcing a smile through a few ex-coworker’s goodbyes and wishes-for-the-best, he went to check on the other reason he had for coming back here. The door to his old office was ajar, and he could see someone slumped over the desk.

“Oh, Jalil… not again…”

Just as he’d thought, the most enthusiastic and dedicated intern the museum ever had was asleep on a stack of notes, sketches and paperwork. Alim sighed and set down the box he was holding.

Jalil had barely spoken to him in weeks. Alim had desperately tried to have a talk with him, but Jalil was rarely even home anymore. This was the third night this week that he hadn’t come home from his internship. Nineteen was too young to be sleeping at the office.

“Jalil, wake up.” He gently shook his son’s shoulder, making a mental note to give whoever was in charge a piece of his mind for not making sure the museum was empty when it closed at night. Shouldn’t someone be checking on him? Then a bitter smile came to Alim’s face. Oh, right… that’s my job. But recently that job had been made increasingly difficult. One, because Jalil had refused to answer any of his phone calls or texts and two (although he didn’t want to admit it), that Alim had been so caught up in his own grief that he didn’t have much thought for other people these days. I should have kept calling…

Jalil sat up slowly, streaks of graphite from his notes smudged across his face. “What do you want?”

“Jalil, please… This isn’t good for you.”

His son yawned and squinted, reaching around for his missing glasses. “Don’t bother. I’m staying late again tonight.”

He did that every night now. “You already did work late. It’s morning now.” He picked up Jalil’s glasses from the floor and cleaning them off before gently putting them back over his face. “Why don’t you come home today?”

“Is Alix coming home?” Jalil asked bluntly, pulling away slightly and adjusting his glasses. 

“Jalil…” Alim said, tears coming to the older man’s eyes. But his son wasn’t done.

“I’m lucky I didn’t accidentally break something while I was interning here for all those summers. It could have been me who got sent to a concentration camp—”

“Jalil!” Alim flinched. “Please don’t…”

“Don’t what, Dad? Don’t take your old job since I’m the only one in the house who actually has one now? Don’t pretend you didn’t send off my sister to be unwound to fix your stupid tablet?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Now he was barely holding back a growl himself. “If you would just listen for once—”

But then he saw the tear stains on the notes scattered across the table, and told himself that he was wrong. He was the father and Jalil was the child, even if they were both adults. His son was hurting too, and he owed it to him to try to explain. “Jalil, look at me.”

Jalil slowly looked up from his notes. “What?”

“I love you. And I’d never want to do anything to hurt either of you.  I know you don’t believe that, but… I needed to tell you.”

Jalil was quiet for a while, shuffling through some papers. “You didn’t have to let them take her. There had to be another way.”

“I tried, Jalil.” His voice caught in his throat. “I really tried—”

It was then that he saw the staff. He internally groaned, not wanting to repeat a conversation he’d already had with Jalil. “Tell me that isn’t the staff from the exhibit hall.” The museum was enormous, but they both knew exactly what he was talking about.

Jalil looked away, stuffing some of his notes into a drawer. “I assume, Dr. Kubdel, that you were just leaving?”

But his father didn’t budge. “I’ve already told you to leave the artifacts alone. No real archeologist takes an artifact without the museum knowing in order to test out a magic trick.”  

Without missing a beat, Jalil said, “No real father would ever sign his daughter to have her organs harvested.” 

“You know better than to try to play out your daydream with an ancient relic as a prop, Jalil! Now return it before anyone notices you have it.”

“You’re not in charge of the exhibit anymore,” Jalil countered. “I am.” He pulled a few files from the drawer and put them in the box his father was holding. “And besides, I got permission.”

“You don’t have permission to test that ridiculous theory on it, especially when we both know nothing will happen!” Neither of them knew they were yelling by now.

“At least I’m actually trying something.”

“If you would just listen to me, you would know I did try!”

“Not hard enough!” Jalil slammed his hands down on the desk. “The one chance she has and you want to me to abandon her too? Just like you abandoned your daughter, your job and your project? Forget it.”

“I will not lose both of my children!”

The two of them were silent for a few moments. Then Jalil let out a shaky breath. “Get out of my office before I call security.” 

Suddenly Alim went pale, nearly shoved the boxes onto the desk and lunged across the worktop at Jalil. For a moment the young researcher thought his father had truly lost his mind.

But then his father’s fingertips barely missed the wing of a black butterfly, coming in for a landing on the artifact in Jalil’s hand.

The museum again. Ladybug had been to the museum so many times, but every other time she’d been excited and curious as soon as the building was in view. This time, she felt a little shaky and her heart was pounding. She and Chat went in through the grand front entrance, avoiding the rooftops around it. It would be trouble if whoever was Akumatized could see them coming. (Besides, she didn’t want to go back to that alley if she could help it.)

“Did you get a good look?” she asked her partner as they made their way through the museum. 

He shook his head. “Not really, but I saw someone get turned into a mummy before I could get down there. It looks like anyone a mummy touches turns into one.”

“How many mummies are out there?” If they didn’t put a stop to this quickly, it could spread before they had a chance to contain it. But her question was answered for her when they both came to a halt.

On any other day, both of them would have stopped and stared and marveled at every gallery and every exhibit. But the only thing that made them stop today was the view from the upstairs window, and the dark portal beginning to swirl across the sky.

Ladybug was so focused on trying to estimate how many mummies were swarming the courtyard that she didn’t register the footsteps behind her until she felt a hand on her arm.

Normally Ladybug’s reflexes would have launched anyone who grabbed her arm like that clear across the room, but this time she happened to glance up first and see his face. It was Alix’s dad.

“Let go of me!”  The second the words were out of her mouth, Ladybug regretted them. With no struggle, Alim Kubdel let her arm free from his weak and tired grasp.

Ladybug didn’t hate him, even after seeing Alix’s unwind order on his desk. Yes, there was disgust that such a seemingly caring father would be the reason for the look of blind terror on Alix’s face. And there was that old fear of every teenager that if they even sit next to a kid who gets an unwind order, two weeks later they will be the next unfortunate victim of the surgeon’s scalpel. Still, she couldn’t help feeling pity for the look of complete brokenness on the man’s face. As much as she detested what had been done, he was clearly in pain and she was sure she’d made it worse.

 “I’m sorry—” she started, but he just shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine. You must think I’m a monster. You have every right to. My daughter… she was the same age as you, I think.”

For the first time since that day, she got a good look at Mr. Kubdel. He looked put-together enough at first, but he had an unusual amount of stubble for the usually very professional museum curator, and there were bags on the bags under his sad eyes.

“Be careful with that Akuma. He’s…” Mr. Kubdel lowered his voice. “He’s not 21 yet and he has a piece of museum property with him.”

Ladybug had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She understood at once what Jalil’s dad Alix’s dad was saying. This is how it happens now, she thought bleakly. Kitty and I arrive on scene, and then someone comes up to us and tells us to be careful and try not to hurt them. Ivan, Sabrina, Alix, and now Jalil.

“You can’t break that staff or let him break it. It’s too valuable.” Alim said urgently. 

Like the tablet that was more valuable than your daughter? Everyone knew by now that Alix was unwound because she’d broken an artifact, and no amount of her father’s regret was enough to fix that. They were going to have to break the staff, but the Cure usually fixed it. If only Alix was so lucky.

But instead of saying so, Ladybug struggled to find her voice before giving him a weak, “We’ll be careful.” 

It was getting harder to be around Alix’s father, and she was probably about to say something she shouldn’t have when Chat Noir spoke up. “Do you have any idea why he’s doing this?”

“The Akuma is…” Mr. Kubdel hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. He’s trying to figure out how much he can say. After last time…

“He wasn’t allowed to attempt a ritual. He researches ancient mythology. Legend has it that the staff has divine powers, and… he had a reason to want to test it for himself.”

“What kind of powers?” Chat asked, trying to sound friendly even though Ladybug held his hand like a vice. Alim took a deep breath. “The power to raise the dead.” 

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged a look, their hearts sinking at the exact same time.

“I can’t believe him.” Ladybug was fuming as she and Chat Noir made their way to the museum’s courtyard. “Now he regrets it, just as soon as it’s too late?”

“You don’t know what happened.” Her partner’s voice was soft and low, almost like Mr. Kubdel’s had been. “He might not have wanted to.”

“But it was still his decision, Chat, and he still did it. He had the unwind order on his desk before anyone even called the police. That’s why Timebreaker…” She trailed off. “Alix wasn’t unwound for being Akumatized. She was Akumatized because she was being unwound.”

Chat looked like he might have said something else, but then stopped himself. There was no more time to talk about it.

They both knew what to do now.

For some reason, Ladybug had come into the fight with some idea of what to expect. All she’d heard was that this was an Akuma named Pharaoh at the museum, but somehow that was all she needed to go on.

When she first saw Pharaoh standing in the courtyard with the crook raised to the sky, her first thought was a wave of shock that he looked exactly how she’d pictured him. Her second thought was an equal amount of shock that he didn’t.

“Ladybug! You dare show your face again?”

Her mind kept flipping back and forth between what should be there and what she was seeing. They were so similar that she still couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was wrong, just like the whole world was wrong—

Pharaoh took a step forward and the bandages around his leg began to fall away. Now she saw it.

She almost wished she didn’t.

Interwoven with the ancient linen were lines of hospital-grade medical bandages, neatly cut and not-so-neatly tied. They were falling loose around his left ankle, revealing desiccated skin that clung to the bone. He was unwinding right before her eyes.

If this bothered him, he didn’t show it. “Surrender now, Ladybug. No matter what you do, I will bring back the lost princess.” The noon sun gleamed off his polished headpiece. “You will not take her from me again.”

While Ladybug kept Pharaoh’s attention, Chat Noir approached from the opposite side. Pharaoh hadn’t seen him yet, but several dozen mummies shambled around the courtyard, ready to do his bidding. With a single exception, Pharaoh had transformed those around him into his army. (Said exception was tied to a lamppost with bandages, squirming against them just enough to push up his shirt sleeve and show off his very long tattoo.)

Chat took a leap and perched at the top of the lamppost while Ladybug kept Pharaoh distracted. A breeze blew through the courtyard, carrying desert dust and a whiff of something peculiar—

The smell fully hit him. It was a dusty, salty smell, but with a stronger aroma of… maybe pine or beeswax? It was mixed with something he couldn’t quite identify, a strong, sharp scent. And underneath all that, subtle enough to pass as an undertone of some expensive fragrance, was a smell he didn’t even want to think about, especially since it gave a hint of what was happening to the person underneath. The worst part was that the overall smell wasn’t horrible. It wasn’t even that different from the colognes he’d worn on photoshoots, which made him a little sick.

Below their king, mummies swarmed blindly in Ladybug’s general direction. Most of them were too occupied with their marching orders to notice him, which gave him a chance to talk to the only other witness.

Kim was tied to a lamppost with several lengths of bandages. He was just close enough for Chat Noir to see his tattoo, but between the bandages obscuring the view and how small the text had become near the end, the only part visible read I LOST… ALIX KUBDEL.

Sliding down the post like a firefighter’s pole and leaping to the ground, Chat made it to the lamppost and grabbed at the bandages. “Cataclysm.” The linen bindings disintegrated under his hand, leaving Kim free. He stumbled a few steps, dusted himself off and looked at Chat expectantly. “What’s going on?”

“I was just about to ask that.” It occurred to him that Kim might not have been able to see through the bandages very well. “Do you know why he brought you here?”

Kim had a sheepish look. “I kind of came over here on my own. Pharaoh just wouldn’t let me leave.”

“Why would you—“ No, he didn’t need to ask that. Kim had tried to talk down nearly every Akuma for weeks. He changed direction with another tactic. “Any idea why he didn’t turn you into a mummy?”

“Oh, he did actually say something about that.” Kim thought for a second. “As soon as he saw my tattoo, he said it was a sign I was being chosen for something. No idea what, though.”

From the direction of the roof, something bright shimmered in the air. Ladybug had led Pharaoh and his army after herself, and while she still had the high ground, it looked like she’d just called on her backup plan.

Ladybug’s strategy was to hold the attention of both the Akuma and his minions. If she kept all the mummies closer to herself, then Chat would have an opening to sneak up on Pharaoh.

She didn’t dare call him who he really was. Behind the mask and bandages, he was unrecognizable. If she played her cards right, she could save him.

Remembering what happened with Vanisher, Ladybug held out her hand. “Lucky Charm.”

Usually she would shout it, but this time it was whispered, almost like a prayer. If she was going to save Jalil, she would have to be able to fix whatever he did. She wouldn’t have much time, but it was the best she could do.

A small, shiny object materialized in the air, hung there for a moment and fell into her hand. She recognized it immediately and her face fell.

It was a necklace with a single red and black pendant that hung from a polka-dotted cord. Even with the color scheme, the outline was unmistakable. She was supposed to go get the Fox Miraculous, and then she had to get its holder.

It wasn’t a bad idea. With all of Pharaoh’s minions, she and her partner were grossly outnumbered. It seemed like if she evened out the odds, even just a little, they would have a better chance. 

But a wave of nausea nearly knocked her over. Not from the fight itself or the smell of preserved flesh and disinfectant below— from the image in her mind. The image of Alya, struggling to get free, being dragged into a dark void.

But what about Rena? She was a skilled ally and even after their fight, Marinette still would have trusted her. But she still couldn’t shake the feeling that Alya didn’t know what she was getting into, and it had to be because she’d picked her as a hero. She wasn’t going to put Alya in any more danger. Rena Rouge would have to sit this one out.

Winding the cord around her wrist, Ladybug snapped back into focus. There was no time for doubt, even if her stomach was in knots from the first time she’d ever ignored her Lucky Charm. Maybe it was more of a suggestion and not something she completely needed… right?

Pharaoh was close now, but not close enough. “You will not keep me from bringing the princess home.” 

His bandages uncurled an inch more, and Ladybug resisted the urge to try to patch him up. This was how she had to help him. Even if he hated her for it.

The staff he held was radiantly glowing now. Even with his face hidden, Ladybug couldn’t shake the feeling that he was grinning at her.

“You’ve arrived just in time to see her restored to her rightful place.” His voice sounded dried out. Was his whole body like his leg, half decayed and drained of all life?

He raised his staff. From below, she heard Chat Noir cry out in surprise. Pharaoh backed away with a flourish, and the mummies retreated to allow her a look.

Below her, Chat Noir was trying to use his staff as a lifeline for Kim, who was quickly floating off of the cobblestones. Floating seemed like the wrong description— from the speed he was moving and his frantic struggling, it looked more like Kim was being vertically dragged by some invisible force. He wasn’t flying; he was just falling up.

A shadow fell over the courtyard as the portal expanded, blocking out the sun. Now that Chat was closer, the strange undertone to the smell became sharper. It was like the doctor’s office he’d been to a couple of weeks ago for a checkup, but so intense now that it made his eyes sting.

Pharaoh himself turned to face Ladybug, who was barely holding her own against his army. The pendant from her Lucky Charm still hung from her hand.

“Five thousand years and so little has changed,” he spat. “You still insist on interfering with things that should be left alone.”

“Ja—“ Ladybug stopped herself just in time. She’d almost said his real name, and there was no way to know who might hear. “Just listen…”

“I’ve had enough,” he growled, slamming the end of his staff against the ground. The sound seemed to ripple through the courtyard, and more mummies came from all around. It was like they’d been there all along, just waiting to be summoned.

Shadows fell over the museum as Ladybug leaped gracefully from the roof and ran towards Pharaoh. She could tell he was glaring at her even from behind the mask. It made her shudder a little to think about what his face might have looked like without it, especially when his bones—

Her eyes kept getting drawn back to his slowly loosening bandages—

No. Focus.

She gritted her teeth and spun her yo-yo, knocking the mummies away from her. On her right, Chat Noir was clearing a similar path with his staff, but would they be fast enough?

The portal was directly overhead now, and so close that it almost seemed to fill the sky. Kim wasn’t struggling anymore, just staring straight up into it as if there was something in there just past what anyone else could see. What if there is? What if something comes out of that thing—?

At the exact same time, several things happened.

The sky over the courtyard went dark as the portal eclipsed the sun.

Pharaoh laughed, raising his staff high into the air. It shone with an otherworldly glow, which was now the only source of light for Ladybug.

Her partner hadn’t even noticed the total eclipse yet, probably because of his night vision. He swung his staff back in a move they’d practiced a million times when they were playfully sparring on the rooftops, but it was so dark that she missed her cue. The plan was for her to jump over the end of the staff as it swung in a low arc, using the opening to get to where they’d be back-to-back. Instead she took a tumble and sprawled out on her back.

And at that exact moment, the portal flickered and closed in a blinding burst of light. Kim had vanished, and Pharaoh waved his staff to dismiss his legion. He didn’t need them now that he’d won.

“She’s returning… the princess is saved…”

And then the portal opened again and Kim came tumbling out. Ladybug jumped to her feet and caught him before he could hit the ground.

He looked baffled. “Where was that?”

“No. NO. This isn’t possible. The ritual was carried out perfectly!” Pharaoh nearly roared. He raised his staff again to summon his army, but it was shattered as a much longer staff shot out and made contact.

Ladybug set Kim down and caught the Akuma as quickly as she could, then rushed to Jalil. He was rubbing the side of his head, looking dazed.

“No cameras, M’lady,” reported Chat, putting his staff away again. “Whatever that flare was, it took them out.”

She nodded. “You get Jalil and Kim inside. I’ll cast the Cure once you do.” With everyone out of the area when the security cameras came back online, nobody could get blamed for this. Hopefully…

She watched Kim and Chat help Jalil through the doors. Then, taking a deep breath, she unwound the necklace from her wrist and raised it into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

“I found this outside in the courtyard.” Ladybug held out the ancient staff to Mr. Kubdel, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. “I think it’s one of your artifacts.”

He flinched slightly, but gave a tired smile. “Thank you for returning it. Although it’s not under my care now… I don’t really work here anymore.” He sighed and shook his head slightly. “But I’ll make sure it gets back to the correct department.”

He ran a few fingers over the artifact, delicately and with a strange expression. “I’m just here to take my son home.”

Ladybug ducked into the bathroom, changed back and then transformed again before Tikki could ask her if she was alright. She had two Akuma victims to check on.

She found Kim waiting outside an office. When he saw her, he looked down at his shoes and fidgeted. 

Ladybug paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I’m not mad at you.”

He nodded, and she went inside.

Chat was talking to Jalil, who looked even more exhausted than he did outside. (Ladybug had to fight the urge to ask him if his leg was alright. It would be fine now.)

“I don’t even remember it anymore…” Jamil’s voice was raspy, like he’d been crying. “I have no idea what I might have done if you hadn’t stopped me from doing that ritual.” (He missed the look that Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged.) “I just… she’s my little sister. Nobody else gets it, but I had to try anything…”

“I get it.”

Everyone turned and looked at the door frame, where Kim was now leaning. “I miss her like that too.”

A little while later, after Ladybug and Chat Noir had gone, Mr. Kubdel knocked on the already— open door. Kim and Jalil looked up at him, both with tear-streaked faces. Kim had traced his tattoo in marker and Jalil was holding a pile of drawings.

“You’re not alone in this anymore, Jalil. You never were.” Alim reached out a hand. “Let’s go home.”

Jalil nodded and shakily stood up. “I’d like that.”

“We need to talk about… what happened today.”

The two of them sat side by side on a rooftop. It wasn’t really a patrol night, but they both needed it.

“He doesn’t know he actually did it.” Chat Noir took out his staff, extended it, then shrank it again and put it back. “I didn’t tell him.”

“That ritual he did…” Ladybug’s voice shook a little. “Pharaoh really was powerful, kitty. With the things we’ve seen Akumas do before…”

“It’s not impossible for it to work,” Chat finished for her. “But it didn’t.”

“If he really did do the ritual and it didn’t work…” Ladybug took a deep breath. “Since he had the power to do everything else he said he could, it doesn’t make sense that the only power he wouldn’t have was for the most important part of his plan. Hawkmoth doesn’t design his Akumas like that. And he didn’t stop it from happening, either.”

“He was even more shocked than we were,” recalled Chat Noir, tail flicking. “He probably could have raised the dead. But the only other thing I can think of is—“

He stopped. His eyes went wide and he could tell from Ladybug’s face that she’d just thought of the same thing. “You don’t think…”

Alix had been unwound. It had been too long since her capture, and thanks to Alya’s exposé it was common knowledge that Akumatized kids were unwound the day they set foot on harvest camp property.

But there was something else, something every kid was told once they learned what unwinding was. The divided state: the concept that since every part of the body remained alive, anyone who was unwound wouldn’t be dead.

Chat Noir started to feel sick as months of repressed dread washed over him. I thought I would at least be free, after it… was over, but is that even any better? His chest suddenly felt too tight. What’s worse, being dead and not here at all, or having live pieces of your brain scattered in other people’s heads?

The two of them sat there as it sank in. Ladybug was deep in thought when she heard her partner’s shallow breathing.

“Deep breaths, Kitty.” She took his gloved hand and lightly squeezed it. “Take a deep breath and hold it for the count of three, then let it out slowly. Okay?” It was a technique Tikki had taught her for when her anxiety was overpowering. “Good. Now try it again.”

He slowly sat back down and she sat next to him. His breathing slowed down and he leaned on her shoulder. Normally she would have playfully pushed him off, but normally he would be making one of his over-the-top attempts to flirt. This was different.

He finally sat up again, pulling away slightly and huddling with his tail-belt wrapped around his knees. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay.”

“But it’s not okay. Alix isn’t okay.” He slowly looked up at her. “Ladybug… What if she’s aware?”

Ladybug shivered and answered him in a voice so soft he’d almost missed it. “What if she isn’t?”

Chapter Text

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

A wave of glittering beetles swept over the streets of Paris, fixing everything once again. Ladybug turned to Chat Noir, who was already holding out his hand for a fistbump. “Pound it!”

They dashed off before the Cure even finished its work, going their separate ways. The Mime had been scarily close to crushing them with an invisible arsenal, and their timers had nearly run out before he was finally defeated. Even so, they both enjoyed a fight when everything could be reset to the way it was supposed to be. 

Ladybug darted into a secluded alley (one that she knew well from patrol, and could tell was empty) and finally let herself slow down. “Spots off!”

It was jarring how the exhaustion hit her— not as bad as it should have been, but a far cry from her effortless leaps to get down here. She was out of breath, too, and it suddenly occurred to her that she’d been on the move since the moment she got out of bed this morning.

“Are you okay?” Tikki asked, both figuratively and literally hovering over the exhausted Marinette.

“It’s okay, Tikki.” Marinette opened her purse and gave Tikki the last emergency macaron. “I just need to catch my breath.” She was already walking now, making sure to keep her voice quiet. “When we get back to the bakery I’ll make you another batch of macarons.”

Tikki licked her lips (did bugs have lips?).

Marinette sighed. “But it’ll have to wait until I finish my homework. Then I said I’d call and check on Adrien this afternoon, and I’m supposed to help Mom and Dad clean the bakery… Oh, what am I forgetting?” She thought for a second. “That’s it! I’m supposed to bring Juleka my notes from class since she was sick yesterday.”

“Maybe you should take some time to yourself,” Tikki suggested, popping the last bite of the macaron in her mouth. “You’ve been pushing yourself really hard lately.”

“It’s fine, Tikki. I’ll relax when I can find time.”

But Tikki didn’t look so sure. Neither of them did.

They had arrived at the bank of the Seine, where a houseboat was moored. Juleka was sitting on the deck in her pajamas, and Marinette could hear someone nearby playing the guitar. We’ll be in and out.

She’d meant to just drop off the notes in her purse and leave, but almost as soon as she set foot on the deck it started to rain. How had she not noticed it was this overcast? Then again, she hadn’t stopped and just looked up at the sky in…

Shaking off that thought, she rushed over to Juleka. “I brought you the notes from class today so you wouldn’t get behiiind!” She skidded on the wet hardwood, barely managing to not drop the papers. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Juleka coughed, then cleared her throat. “Maybe you should come inside.”

Now the rain was turning into a downpour, and the notes would be useless if they got too wet. Why didn’t I just text her a picture? I should’ve thought of that back at school.

Marinette followed Juleka inside and spread the papers out on the counter, trying to dry them out before the ink ran. She didn’t realize she’d taken up half the counter until she heard a chuckle from behind her. “Did you bring her the whole book, lass?”

She jumped. “Sorry! I can pick this up…”

But the gray-haired woman behind her shook her head. “No need to worry about it. It’s not in the way where it is.” 

It was the first time she’d met Juleka’s mother, but she somehow looked like the exact person who would live on the Liberty, complete with a piratically-themed captain’s hat.

Marinette checked the time on her phone. Twenty minutes to three. “I should be going…”

But the woman hook her head. “Nonsense, lass. I can’t put you out in this squall!” She pointed at the window, which was now being pelted with torrential rain.

Juleka nodded. “You can stay until the storm’s over if you want. It’s probably safer if—” She coughed again, and the door the kitchen opened.

“Juleka, do you need—” The boy who’d just come into the room stopped, noticing Marinette. “And hello,” he said, “I didn’t know we had company.” He gave her a small but friendly smile. “I’m Luka.”

She suddenly felt very shy. “I’m Marinette.”

He nodded, like he was already an old friend of hers seeing her again. “You go to school with my twin sister, right? She’s told me all about you.” Noticing Marinette tense up, he added, “She said you’re one of the best friends anyone could have.”

“You said that?” Marinette asked, flattered and a little flustered. Juleka nodded, but then shivered. Her brother was there in an instant with a cup of tea, asking with a smile if she needed to rest her voice.

Somehow the three of them ended up sitting around the kitchen table, talking and then laughing and listening to stories of Anarka’s adventures at sea (which Marinette suspected were highly embellished but enjoyed all the same). It didn’t matter that Marinette was sore and exhausted, or Juleka was still sick, or that Luka had only met her that day. For a while, it was like they’d known each other all their lives and were old friends just having a rainy afternoon together.

It could have stayed like that all day with the outside world locked out in the rain, but then two phones in the room went off at the same time.

Juleka picked up her phone first, and her eyes went enormous. She pointed to Marinette’s phone, which Marinette checked and immediately dropped out of shock.

“What was it?” Luka asked, giving Marinette her phone back without looking at her message. Marinette held it up so all three of them could see.

The screen showed Chloe Bourgeois’s head in a bobbling animation straight out of the days of the early internet. The page was in lavender and pink and the text in pure snowy white. It read:  

“Announcing the date of the tithing party of Miss Chloe Bourgeois

The celebration of her life and generosity will be held Tuesday, November the 5th at 4:00 PM. White tie dress code. Arrive exactly on time, not early or late (the doors will close two minutes after 4:00 PM).”

For a second Marinette and Juleka sat there, stunned that Chloe had just invited them to her incredibly exclusive party, but after a second scanning, they both rolled their eyes and groaned.

“Only Chloe.” Marinette said, sighing.

“Only Chloe.” Juleka repeated. 

“Only Chloe what?” Luka asked, having clearly never met the pinnacle of grace and generosity herself.

Marinette handed her phone to him and pointed to the bottom of her screen. “Only Chloe would send out an announcement of her big party and not invite anyone.”  

She zoomed in on a little block of text at the very bottom of the screen. 

Please Note: This is not an official invitation. Those of you who are invited will have already received your invitation from my personal secretary.

Luka took a closer look at the email. “She has a secretary?”

Marinette could feel her headache coming back again. “That’s got to be Sabrina.”

“Chloe’s friend,” Juleka added.

Anarka came around the corner and saw the three of them crowded around the phone screen. “And what are you lot gawking at like a bunch of dead fish?” She leaned over Luka’s shoulder and took a look for herself. “Ah, that’ll do it,” she said, shaking her head. “That poor lass.”

“Poor lass?” Marinette and Juleka said in unison.

“Aye, poor lass.” Anarka’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Any child whose parents unwind them has a couple of bilge rats for parents if you ask me, especially if they go and drag it out like her or that model boy.” 

Without even registering that she was thinking about Adrien, Marinette’s face was the same bright scarlet as her suit. But before the blush even faded, her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Since that awful day years ago when a then-classmate had a sibling unwound and tearfully told everyone at school who didn’t already know what that meant, Marinette had known better than to ever, ever say a word about it around an adult. You didn’t say how horrible and unfair it was— you’d only receive a “life isn’t fair” talk and then a lecture on why it wasn’t really so bad, not really, and how it wasn’t actually killing a child. Long before you were old enough to be unwound, you knew not to say anything about it unless you were only with other kids.

It was the first time in her life she’d ever heard someone who was too old to be unwound say something so directly against it.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Luka’s voice made her realize how hard she was gripping the edge of the table and how fast her thoughts were racing. She managed a nod, and put her phone down.

“You can say whatever you want here, but you don’t have to say anything.” It was like Luka could see straight through her anxiety and find the words for an antidote. “Mom won’t mind if you do, though.”

Anarka patted Marinette’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, lass. Didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

Marinette nodded. “I’m okay now.” And she meant it.

“Thanks for letting me stay, Ms. Couffaine.” The rain had stopped, and it was just a short walk from there to get back to the bakery. 

She laughed. “You’re welcome here anytime. And again, lassie, call me Anarka!”

Before she left, Marinette stopped at the deck where Luka sat tuning his guitar. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so… light. Like a physical weight was not quite lifted off her shoulders, but she had one more person to help carry it. “Thanks for everything, Luka. I had a great time here.”

He smiled and plucked a few notes on his guitar. “Of course. I’m here if you ever need anything, okay?”

“And that goes for the Liberty too, lass,” Anarka added. “You can weather a storm here anytime.” She ruffled Marinette’s hair.

By now, the clouds had cleared away and it was warm outside. It was the perfect weather for the walk home. “I should probably be getting home now, but… thank you.”

On her way out, she looked back over her shoulder. Luka was intently focused on his guitar, playing that melody he’d been working on since they’d met, the song he said was hers. Maybe the next time she came for a visit, he’d have finished it.

Marinette smiled to herself as she began the walk home, her footsteps a little lighter.

Chapter Text

Nathalie was thinking of doing the unthinkable at the moment. Ever since Emilie’s disappearance, she had been both assistant and confidante to the remaining Agreste family with a type of professionalism that could only be dreamt of by evil tycoons. Now, though, she was considering sabotage. 

She’d had second thoughts before, but it was not Gabriel boxing up his comatose wife like a science experiment or even dressing up as a supervillain and destroying Paris on a weekly basis that brought her to this point. It was his plan for Adrien (which part of her still believed was just a last resort or bluff of Gabriel’s). Holding the phone to her face, part of her screamed to just do it. It would be better for everyone.

“Well?” The voice on the other end of the line spoke sharply with a Japanese accent. Just do it, Nathalie, tell this old bat that Mr. Agreste is not here today. That’s all you have to do. Gabriel won’t know. Twenty years she had worked for the Agrestes and she had been nothing but loyal. Emilie was not only her employer’s wife but her dear friend since college, and she did miss her terribly. Still, Emilie wouldn’t have allowed this. 

The voice on the other end of the line practically growled in impatience, and against her better judgment, Nathalie answered. “I will let him know you’re here, Ms. Tsurugi. Please be patient.” Nathalie said curtly, then put down the phone and sighed. “I should have called in sick.”

Who was she trying to fool? Gabriel never left his house anymore. He was always home and besides, he’d have found out about Nathalie’s sabotage sooner or later anyway. She would help Adrien, but she needed to be strategic.

Nathalie had never liked Tomoe, but now that the woman had designed an experimental transplant procedure revolving around Adrien as a donor, she despised her for being Gabriel’s accomplice. Like you’re any better… You could have pretended he wasn’t home.

But she shook her head. It’s just a backup plan. He won’t do it if he gets his hands on that ring and the earrings.

Nathalie still shivered as she arrived at Gabriel’s office, not because of the idea of him harvesting his own son’s organs to save his wife, but because although Tomoe Tsurugi was a horrible cranky old woman (not truly so old, but her near-constant scowl made her look much older than she was), Gabriel was not in a particularly good mood today either. In fact, he had been very irritated with everyone and everything lately and this was the reason why Nathalie was keen to stay out of his way. She opened the door to the study and eyed the idle phone sitting on the dark mahogany desk. She would have just called Gabriel if he’d been carrying his phone, which he wasn’t. She wouldn’t have to look for him, though. He was where he always went when he was in a bad mood, and this week he had rarely left it.

Nathalie went to the oil painting of Emilie and tapped her nose. “Boop,” she said, making herself smile in a moment of playfulness that was all too rare now. The secret passageway opened and Nathalie took the ride to Emilie’s garden, where she found Gabriel with his hand up against the glass that separated him from his wife.

“Gabriel?”

It took a moment, but he looked up from Emilie’s coffin.

Nathalie cleared her throat. “Ms. Tsurugi is here to see you.”

The tea that the three of them sat drinking at the table was not the same tea anyone at the Agreste estate drank, nor was it served in the same china that anyone else at the Agreste estate took theirs in. The tea Nathalie had prepared for Tomoe’s visit was an expensive imported brand served in traditional Japanese teacups. Gabriel would have preferred coffee, but politely sipped his and tried not to grimace while Tomoe drained her first cup and the next without spilling a drop.

But as Tomoe took a steady drink of her third cup of tea, she had a small smile on her lips. “I often wonder,” Tomoe said, “what my mother would think if she could see me now.” 

“Hmm…” Gabriel said, curious to see where this was going. 

“When it came to my career, we didn’t see eye to eye, if you’ll excuse the figure of speech.” It was the closest thing to a joke that either Nathalie or Gabriel had ever heard from her, yet she was completely serious. “I no longer worry about what she thinks. She had an unfortunate accident some time ago when her car’s engine curiously failed. Nobody ever could figure out how.” The edge of her mouth turned up almost imperceptibly as she finished her tea.

Gabriel and Nathalie both froze for a moment, wondering if Tomoe had just given a confession (if you could call it that) or if the incident simply didn’t happen to bother her. It was hard to be sure which possibility was more unsettling, especially with the way Tomoe smiled to herself as she took another sip of her tea.

But finally she set down her cup, making no motion for Nathalie to refill it a fourth time. “I suppose Kagami would have felt no differently had it been me. She has questioned everything I ask of her ever since our last visit. I suspect she spent time with a bad influence.” Then, before Nathalie could ask what that was supposed to mean, she asked, “How did Adrien handle the idea of having his organs harvested?”

Gabriel nearly choked on his tea, spluttering droplets of it down the table. Nathalie took his half-empty cup and went to get a napkin, but what she heard from just outside the room made her fists clench so hard that she nearly cracked the delicate ceramic.

“Not well, then? Hmm, I expect you and Emilie were always too soft on the boy.”

Nathalie was about to make her way back to the room to defend Adrien, but to her surprise and appreciation, Gabriel beat her to it. “I’ll have you know that he’s taken it even better than an old associate’s daughter who was raised for it her entire life. Agreste men are always willing to sacrifice for the greater good.” It was the closest thing to pride for his son Nathalie had heard from him since Emilie first fell ill.

“Ah, I see,” Tomoe said, momentarily humbled but refusing to acknowledge it. “It must be reassuring to him that his mother is one of his recipients.” 

Gabriel said nothing, but his eyes darted to the doorway, hoping Nathalie would swoop in to save him. He knew there was no avoiding it now; If Nathalie didn’t know what to say, then there was nothing left to say.

Not wanting to hear what came next, Nathalie held the wall tightly and gradually made her way to the kitchen. She wasn’t merely stalling; it was getting harder and harder to stay standing without support.

“I’ll hold you up!”

Nathalie’s concentration was broken by the high-pitched little voice from out of nowhere and by the streak of royal blue rocketing out of her pocket and through her shoulder. She lost her grip on the wall and with a startled shout fell into a heap on the floor. Her kwami doubled back trying to pick her up, but on a reflex Nathalie swatted at the little blue blur with her hand. To her relief she’d missed, but Duusu burst into tears as if she didn’t.

 Nathalie heard the sobbing, and she pulled herself to where she was at least sitting upright. “Duusu, I’m sorry. I was just startled, that’s all.”

Duusu kept sniffling and mumbling numbers, not reacting to Nathalie at all. Now I’ve done it, Nathalie thought, now I have three babies to deal with.

Duusu was always trying to be helpful. She was kind and energetic and always eager to help but she was also very temperamental. One moment she could be happiness incarnate, the next moment she could be crying enough tears to make the Seine flood. “I’m sorry, Duusu,” Nathalie repeated, “I was just startled. It’s not because of you at all.” 

The pleading didn’t have any effect on the crying, but Duusu did finally look up. “But it is because of me! If it weren’t for me, you would still be able to walk!” 

Nathalie was stunned into silence. Technically it was true, but it wasn’t the kwami’s fault that she was bound to a broken Miraculous. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that Nathalie agreed to take the role as Mayura, no matter how eager she had been to have a holder after years in Gabriel’s safe.

“It’s not your fault.” Nathalie cupped her kwami in her hands, stroking her cheek feathers with the tip of her finger. “It wasn’t because of anything you did. We’re just… both a little broken, is all.” The last part was more to the kwami than herself.

Duusu sat nestled in her hands for a minute, enjoying the gentle scritches. Nathalie smiled in spite of her pain, forgetting for a moment about Hawkmoth and Tomoe Tsurugi and all of Paris. 

But then she pulled herself to her feet, finished her journey to the kitchen and retrieved a small stack of napkins for Gabriel. While her back was turned, Duusu took the chance to investigate the intercom button nearby and without warning, threw herself at it. “Testing, testing, Hawkmoth has a big butt, testing!”

“Duusu! That is not a toy!” Nathalie hissed, chasing down her kwami as quietly as she could while also thanking her lucky stars that technology couldn’t detect them. “We can play after the meeting, but you need to stay put and be quiet until then!”

By the time Nathalie got back, Gabriel and Tomoe were still arguing.

“—didn’t tell him, Gabriel-san?”

“There was no reason for it. As I said, he understands it’s for the greater good.” Gabriel’s voice was as unsteady as his logic.

“He would be less inclined to resist with full disclosure. I tell Kagami what she asks, provided it’s not confidential.” She spoke so matter-of-factly, as always, and Gabriel looked more and more like he would have very much liked to leave. “You, on the other hand, leave too many variables uncontrolled. What would happen, for instance, if Interpol were to find out who destroys iconic Parisian architecture on a regular basis?”

“It comes back…” argued Gabriel, but she simply continued.

“You continue to risk both of us for your own gain, and once again you failed to follow the plan. Had the press release been made with Adrien still being tutored at home, we would have the public’s general support. Instead, you let the news spread too early.”

“That wasn’t my fault! He somehow got out and—”

“This is serious, Gabriel-san.” Tomoe interrupted harshly. “You need to have the general public see Adrien’s harvesting—“

“—Tomoe, can’t we just call it tithing while we’re here?”

“—as a positive action so it doesn’t detract from both of our companies. Tsurugi Industries will need serious compensation for the disturbance.”

Gabriel sighed, sounding drained and defeated. “What do you want?”

Tomoe unlatched her briefcase, feeling the braille on the corners of each file until she found the one she wanted and placed it on the table. “I trust this is fair given the work I have to put in. A 15% increase in my commission, with the cost of hotels and travel for my daughter and myself covered in a separate payment.”

“Yes, of course that’s fair,” growled Gabriel through gritted teeth, examining the full report of precisely what she was demanding. “Will there be anything else?” Money was of no concern to Gabriel, but having her bleed him out was still hard for him to bear. 

“That depends, Gabriel-san.” For the second time that day, Tomoe Tsurugi visibly smiled. “Will there be any more trouble?”

A part of Nathalie wished Gabriel had let her go over the terms of the agreement before he signed them, but it did mean a shorter negotiation and she was tired of hearing him argue. Besides, Tomoe was too strategic to have entirely ripped off anyone whose business dealings were so tightly linked to her own.

“Well then, I suppose this concludes our meeting,” Gabriel said with a sigh as he readied his pen (which was a newly purchased replacement for the gold-plated one that had somehow gone missing). Nathalie’s eyes widened, remembering what she’d said to Duusu.

Duusu did a somersault in midair, overwhelmed in a fit of giggles. Gabriel gave Nathalie an incredulous look as her kwami soared out of her pocket, bounced off the ceiling and landed in his mostly empty teacup with a small splash.

“What was that sound?” Tomoe’s tone made it very clear that she had no patience for any more nonsense.

Gabriel glared down at the kwami happily using his drink as a birdbath. “Just a small spill, Tomoe. Nothing of importance.” He made a grab for Duusu, who fluttered over the table and back to Nathalie— but not without showering his hair with a spray of lukewarm tea.

Gabriel shook out the slightly moistened documents, but realized his mistake when the ink started to run. “You wouldn’t happen to have a second copy of the paperwork, would you? For… filing purposes.”

Slowly, without showing any surprise, Tomoe opened the briefcase again and felt for a second envelope with contents identical to the first. Gabriel’s face burned red with a strange mix of relief and complete humiliation that somehow she had known he would manage to make a mess of the documents before the meeting had even started.

“My flight is in half an hour. Kagami and I will be leaving as soon as I can collect her.” Maybe it was Gabriel’s imagination, but Tomoe seemed more annoyed than usual. “I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl.”

“Do you need any help getting to the car—?” Gabriel offered awkwardly, but she shook her head.

“Unlike some people here, I keep my business under control.”

“Yes, well… everything will be back on track by next time.” Gabriel shifted uncomfortably, wiping tea from his tie.

“We meet digitally next time.” It was not a request. “Less chance of distraction by you and your kwami.”

Chapter Text

Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! This is Nadja Chamack, reporting live from the Hotel Grand Paris where international fashion icon Audrey Bourgeois has come home!

Though she has yet to announce any details on the upcoming release of her new “Clarity” line, Audrey now gives us a glimpse at the collection’s focus on mesmerising jewel tones. Here she’s modeling a one-of-a-kind azure dress, with blue eyes and custom jewelry to match.

Coming up next: Teenage drama or something more? One expert’s perspective on how popular blogging sites may affect youth behavior.

“Can you imagine wearing a dress like that, Tikki?” Marinette lay stretched out on her loft bed. Since she was going to be a fashion designer herself, it was exciting to see stories about her passions on TV.

“I think your design ideas are already better than hers!” Tikki said, tossing another macaron into her mouth and swallowing it in one bite.

“You don’t even wear clothes,” Marinette giggled as she finished a sketch of herself in a dress that Audrey had been wearing as the screen showed her private jet landing at Le Bourget Airport. Well, at least it started off as Audrey’s dress— it didn’t look quite right to Marinette, not for her at least. So she’d raised the neckline a little, and then let out the skirt so it would fan out if she twirled in it. It would be easier to walk in if it was just a bit shorter, too. Instead of the jeweled clip that was in Audrey’s hair, she had drawn a flower in her own. The flower was soft pink and white, to make the blue of the dress stand out more… and what shoes would look good with that? Sandals, maybe?

Marinette was so lost in thought as she drew that by the time she looked up, a half-filled sketchpad sat nearby with page after page of her own creations. This was how a lot of her impromptu design sessions went— one stroke of inspiration would send her on a whole beautiful spiral of new variations. It could last for hours, and sometimes she would so absorbed in her work that she would spend an entire afternoon in her sketchpad and it would be time for dinner. That night while she was patrolling as Ladybug, she would curse herself for not taking a nap that afternoon. But by the next morning when she opened her sketchpad again, she would find herself thinking that it was all worth it.

Today, however, something caught her attention as the TV blared.

Making one of the final major appearances in his modeling career is the young Adrien Agreste. This rising star of the modeling world will be remembered for his role in the Agreste brand. As Adrien goes into a divided state as a tithe, he leaves behind a legacy as far-reaching as his father’s designs, which I’m sure will only be exceeded by the impact his parts will have on everyone who receives them. Accompanying him on the catwalk will be the contest winner; a fresh face with a passion for modeling who will be selected from auditions later today.

Marinette nearly dropped her sketchpad. “Wait, what did she say?” She grabbed her phone and started searching furiously until she found the terms of the contest.

“There it is! Tikki, I found it!” Marinette took a pause from her speed-scrolling to read. “Whoever wins the modeling audition has a chance to meet some of the top designers in Paris, and… and I get to spend the day with Adrien, too.” His father had been keeping him trapped in the house more and more, and she barely saw him except for school. The few times they’d been together, she barely managed to get a few sentences out before he had to leave.

Maybe it would be easier while they were both working. She’d been able to keep her cool when she was on the job as Ladybug, even if she’d never really been around Adrien then. Maybe if she was just being professional, she wouldn’t make a mess of things.

But it could also be a chance to meet some real designers, maybe even get advice. What schools to apply to, how to make connections… everything she would need to know. Winning this contest could change her entire life.

But would it be for the better? “What if I don’t get in? Or even worse, what if I did and I blew it? I could trip on the runway, or bump into Adrien, or trip on the runway and bump into Adrien, knocking both of us off of the catwalk and into the audience where we—“

“Marinette?” Tikki lightly tugged on a loose strand of her holder’s hair, trying to snap her out of it.

“Sorry, Tikki. I did it again, didn’t I?” She hated it when her mind decided to drag her down like this.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tikki reassured her. “Just think about it this way: Whatever happens at auditions won’t be worse than not taking the chance. And even if you don’t get picked, nothing changes for the worse. It’s a good chance, but it won’t be your only one.”

“You’re right.” Somehow Tikki always knew what to say. “I’ll start getting ready soon. It says it starts in almost an hour.”

“Um…” Tikki took a close look at the phone screen. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Look, it says right here… and I know my watch is on time because I set it last night.”

“That’s the problem.”

Tikki floated over to the calendar. “When exactly do humans start Daylight Savings time?”

Marinette froze, then stuffed everything in front of her into her purse and ran for it.

The one time being Ladybug doesn’t make me late, and now this! Marinette rushed down the halls of the massive building. Officially audition time was almost over, but there had to be about a hundred contestants, so it had to be running long, right? She could slip in with the crowd, and besides, she wasn’t late. Two minutes…

“And what are you doing here, Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette shrieked as she tripped over an outstretched pearl-white high heel. The papers in her purse scattered everywhere as she hit the ground. From where she’d landed, she could see Chloé and Sabrina looking down at her. Why did she have to be here?

“I can’t believe you thought you had a shot.” Here it was. Marinette could never figure out why Chloé was like this, ever since they were little kids. “Like anyone with taste would pick you.”

I’m not crying. She would never let Chloé catch her in tears. But when she heard the heavy doors down the hall close, it was harder than usual.

Chloé must have been about to deliver another brutal comment, but a screech from the next room cut through the walls. 

“Decaf? You brought me decaf? I didn’t tell you to do that! Do I look like I need decaf? Why is my intern stupid enough to give me decaf? Get out of my sight! You’re fired!”

Tears streaming down her face, a girl around the same age as Marinette came running around the corner, sending her papers scattering even further. In a daze, Marinette heard the click-click-click of high stiletto heels and an imperious voice call out, “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

 In Marinette’s semi-dazed state, she came to three horrible and all-encompassing realizations.

One: she was still on the floor. And may very well need to go to the hospital to get checked out for a concussion. 

Two: That she was now in the presence of Audrey Bourgeois, the face and queen of fashion on the European continent. 

And Three: That this powerful and cruel style queen was looking at her.

“Let me see that,” Audrey demanded. 

“Th-This one?” Marinette stammered her heart pounding as Chloé’s mother pulled the sketch from her hand.

Audrey pursed her lips, scanning over the paper. “That’s my dress… except … with changes. Are you responsible for this?”

 Marinette didn’t answer, but it didn’t matter. She already knew that her fashion career was dead. Out of all the papers Audrey could have noticed, why did she have to pick the one where Marinette copied her dress? She could just imagine what she would say… You copied my dress? How dare you?! Get out of my sight!

And now she could just picture herself in tears like that last girl who had just been run out, Chloé laughing at her all the way as Marinette made the long sprint to obscurity.

After what seemed like an eternity, however, Audrey spoke. “Hm… not bad.”

Chloé’s jaw dropped. Marinette didn’t even notice. She couldn’t even take her eyes off the international fashion icon who had just told her that her drawing was “not bad.” 

Audrey took another drawing from the floor. “This is the outfit you’re wearing. I don’t recognize the brand.” She looked Marinette up and down. “Hand stitching. You designed it, didn’t you?”

Then Marinette felt her chin being tilted up slightly by a set of sharp, perfectly manicured fingernails. Audrey was examining her, like she was checking a bolt of fabric for imperfections. “What pigment brand do you use?”

Marinette swallowed. “I don’t really get pigment injections…” She felt her face turn red. “Needles make me nervous… I tried once, but—”

“Natural, then? Really?” Audrey said, releasing her. “What an exceptional shade of blue.”

When she stepped back, Marinette thought she could see a smile. “As you probably heard, I am in need of a new intern. My company has a junior internship program, perfect for someone your age and with your focus in fashion design.”

“Mom—“ Chloé interrupted.

“Not now, Clara.” She looked Marinette up and down again and gave her an approving nod. “You’re quite the exceptional find, do you know that?”

“Tikki, isn’t this amazing?” Marinette stood in front of her bedroom mirror, already imagining the glamorous feeling of seeing her own creations on the catwalk. Of course she wouldn’t be doing anything like that yet— interns were there to learn and probably do little jobs for whoever wanted coffee or something, but it was still such an opportunity. Audrey Bourgeois, the queen of fashion herself and owner of an iconic empire, thought she was exceptional. “What if I actually get the internship?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Tikki buzzed off the table to rest on Marinette’s shoulder. “I can tell you want this really badly…”

“I do! Can you imagine what it would do for my fashion career?” Every academy in the city would want her to attend as soon as they saw who she’d trained under. She was praying that her parents would say yes.

But Tikki hesitated. “I understand, Marinette, it’s just… it just seems like it would take up a lot of time. You still have to be Ladybug, and you need time for yourself too.”

But Marinette was undeterred. “I can get Chat to cover for me when I can’t be around.”

“He can’t do that all the time, Marinette. This is a lot for either of you to take on.”

Marinette’s smile slipped. “I can make it work. If I really need to, I guess I can try to give Alya her Miraculous again. Rena’s here for situations just like this!” She didn’t sound as sure about this, but she looked down at her sketchbook and her face lit up again. “I can’t believe Audrey Bourgeois offered me a job!”

“Yes… that’s just it, Marinette.” Tikki looked up at her holder. “Are you sure you want to work for her?”

“Of course I am! I’ll probably never get another chance like this again.” She opened her sketchbook and carefully leafed through the pages. “I just hope I’m up for it.”

“No, that’s not it at all! You’re more than talented enough, and you work harder than anyone else I know, but…” Tikki knew she had to tread carefully; her holder’s newfound confidence was fragile after everything she’d been through. “…do you really want to be Audrey’s Sabrina?”

“What do you mean?” Marinette looked up from the mirror, startled. “She’s not Chloé.”

“No… no, she isn’t. But are you sure she’s any better?”

“Don’t say that, Tikki!” Marinette hadn’t even started the job and was already defending her possible soon-to-be-boss. “She created her own brand from the very beginning. Chloé’s never earned anything in her life.”

The last part was said so bitterly that even Tikki was surprised. It wasn’t like Marinette to hold a grudge… or to miss something so important.

“Did you ever think about why that is?”

“Of course I have,” Marinette sighed. “She makes sure nobody ever forgets that she’ll never work a day in her life since she’s…” 

She trailed off, maybe starting to realize what Tikki was trying to say. Silence filled the room for a few moments.

“Tikki, she’s not like— like Adrien.” Marinette wasn’t sure why her kwami compared Chloé to her mother, and even less sure why the subject seemed to have completely changed. “She wants this. It’s all she ever talks about.” Her heart was pounding and she wasn’t sure why.

Then the headache hit.

Chapter Text

After another excruciating afternoon of entertaining Tomoe, Gabriel was ready for his nightcap. All he wanted was to crawl into bed between his silk sheets and sleep till at least noon the next day. However, it seemed fate had other plans. 

“Hello, Uncle Hawkmoth!”

Gabriel shuddered at someone calling him by that name in his private house, in his private study. With a mix of alarm and anger, Gabriel squinted as the intruder turned on a light and he found his eyes adjusting to the smug, self-satisfied, smirking face of Félix.

“Oh for God’s sake! What do you want now?” Gabriel said tiredly. Félix seemed a little shocked not to have his uncle completely undone by the mere fact that he knew his secret identity. “Well… I… Well.”

Although his face didn’t show it, a rush of joy filled Gabriel at having his know-it-all nephew tongue-tied. He actually was unsettled by this reveal, but was just too tired to react. “Out with it, boy!”  

Félix blinked, and seemed to be trying to remember what he was going to say. Gabriel smiled at him wolfishly, but suddenly the boy regained his attitude. “Well, Uncle, I came to make a deal with you.”

This had to be a bad joke. “A deal?” Gabriel scoffed, “What ‘deal’ do you have to conduct with me? Look around here, boy! Look at all of this!” With a great gesture, Gabriel motioned to his opulent study. “What can you possibly have that you can give me?”

“Information,” Félix said smugly as he leaned back with his feet on the desk. He was running something small and metallic back and forth between his fingers, almost as if he actually had the nerve to be bored.

“Information?” Gabriel said sarcastically, “And what kind of ‘information’, my dear nephew, could be so valuable that you come into my house and sit in my chair with your dirty feet on my €50,000 desk?”

Without missing a beat, Félix said, “Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Gabriel could feel the blood draining from his face. “What?” he whispered breathlessly.

“I know both of their secret identities.” Ignoring his uncle’s shock, Félix took the liberty of pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter sitting on the desk. Without a word, he downed the glass and let out a great satisfactory, “Ahhh!” 

“How could you possibly know who they are?” demanded Gabriel, making a grab for the decanter but nearly pushing it off the desk instead. To his infuriation, Félix calmly caught it and set it back on the desk with the still-smug little grin plastered over his punchable little face. I’m going to kill him, Gabriel fumed to himself. 

“You know, Uncle,” Félix went on, “I’m afraid you’ve created quite the habit. After my first drink I’d thought I’d never touch the stuff again, but now—”

Gabriel lost his temper and like some mad fiend leaped towards Félix and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. “Tell me right now you little brat, or so help me God!” 

Félix burped in Gabriel’s face. “Manners, Uncle! Manners!”

Gabriel hit him then, smacked Félix straight across his face. It didn’t seem to faze him, though. If anything, he was only more satisfied with himself. “Do that again, Uncle, and I’ll see to it that everyone in the world knows you like to play dress up.”

“You little monster, I’ll have you unwound, I’ll have your mother killed!” Had Félix not been a little too quick on his feet, Gabriel would have wrung his neck like a chicken. Even so, Gabriel overturned the chair and managed to shove Félix to the floor. Despite this, though, his nephew was still smiling. And although he was the one who would have new bruises in the morning, it would be Gabriel who would be more uncomfortable by the end of the conversation.

“I don’t believe you will, Uncle. Not with me being a valuable source of information, and not with my mother looking so much like Aunt Emilie.” Félix smiled at Hawkmoth. It was the smile of a brat who knew he was going to get everything he wanted for Christmas despite being horribly behaved all year. 

Hawkmoth wanted to destroy this unruly nephew of his. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing Félix could do could hurt him. Who would Félix go to to tell the world his uncle’s secret? He could own all the papers by tomorrow morning if he wanted. 

Still, if he didn’t play nice now, then his life would be difficult down the line. No telling when he would learn Ladybug and Chat Noir’s real identities by himself.

“Fine, Félix,” Gabriel said tiredly, “Let’s pretend for a moment I decided to play your little game. What do you want?” 

“Well, first…” Félix said, picking up the fancy chair that had been tipped over in his uncle’s rage and sitting with his feet up in the desk again, “let’s outline the terms of our agreement.” Much to Gabriel’s annoyance (and, in spite of himself, amusement), Félix drew a sheet of paper from his pocket. He has a list! Gabriel thought as his nephew began to read from it.

“Number 1: You will pay me an allowance of no less than 100,000 Euros a month.”

Cheapskate, coward, Hawkmoth thought, I would at least have paid you double. But he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “Done.” 

Félix grinned and kept reading. “Number 2: Assurance from you that you will not come after me. If you do try to pursue me or have me unwound, then I will have the pictures and information I gathered on you sent to every international paper and all the news outlets in Paris.” 

Foolish boy, Gabriel thought, but instead he hastily said. “Of course, of course.” Now that he thought about it, though, he wondered if taking the papers lightly was such a good idea. He might be able to buy them out, but even one rogue reporter could do some damage. Gabriel gulped. I’m going to have to tell Nathalie about this, aren’t I?

“Number 3: I want access to the Peacock Miraculous and any creatures you had Nathalie make.”

Gabriel said nothing to that— to be honest, he was a little taken aback. “How do you know about that?” He asked, “Especially the Peacock?”

Félix held up a hand to silence him and continued to read from the list. “Number 4: I want you to save Kagami…”

Félix tried to keep his eyes firmly fixed to the paper, but Gabriel noticed how he glanced up to see if his uncle was looking at him. He was, and when he looked at Félix he saw the boy was a little red and a little hot around the collar. “You fancy her, do you?” Gabriel asked with a slight smirk.  “I wish you all the luck in the world with that. Especially with having Tomoe Tsurugi as a mother-in-law!”

Félix turned beet red but continued reading. “Number 5: You name me as your heir and-”

Gabriel’s patience had run dry. “Fine, fine, you little brute! You have it all, everything your little scheming heart wants, you get. Happy?”

Félix said nothing, only staring at his uncle with a strange expression. It appeared to Félix that Gabriel Agreste may not have actually existed at all. Instead Gabriel Agreste was the mask, and Hawkmoth was the man.

“Now tell me. Tell me, Félix, please?”

  “One more thing,” Félix added as he folded his list and placed it securely back in his pocket. “This is at least the seventh time you’ve threatened me with Harvest Camp and the scalpel. You obviously have pull, so I want you to use that pull to get me declared unfit for unwinding.” 

“You can consider that done,” Gabriel remarked dryly. “Although, to be honest, anyone would believe that something is wrong with you.” 

Félix rolled his eyes and Gabriel looked down at him with a smirk that was eerily similar to his nephew’s. “Now tell me who they are before I come to my senses and throw you out.”

“As you wish, uncle.” Félix took the liberty of pouring himself another glass of whiskey and swallowing it in one gulp. “Adrien is Chat Noir.” 

Gabriel’s jaw dropped, and for a moment Félix was wondering if he had made the right choice. Revealing this would give his uncle a reason to keep Adrien around, but it would only make him want to know Ladybug’s identity even more. Too late to go back now— the cat was out of the bag, or at least the Chat was.

“You’re lying.” Gabriel said flatly. Félix froze. He hadn’t predicted this. If he doesn’t believe me, then this whole thing falls apart. It doesn’t matter how much I lied about. All of this depends on him believing me. Taking a deep breath, Félix said, “You know I’m not.” 

Gabriel stared at Félix a for long time, then collapsed into a chair with a sigh, his face in his hands. “I know you’re not. Oh, God, how I wish you were. What about Ladybug?”

“That’s for later.” Félix swung his feet off the desk and stood up, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. 

With a roar of anger, Gabriel rushed at Félix, pinning him against the wall. “We! Had! A! DEAL!”

“And you could break it,” Félix said, squirming free, “if I give you all of my information. You’d probably stab me in the back before you hold up your end.” 

Gabriel’s fist clenched. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t snap my fingers and have it done with right now!”

“Because I know who Ladybug is, and I know who you are. As I said, Uncle, today I have information. Some of it could destroy you, some of it could benefit you, all of it benefits me.” 

Gabriel snarled, but Félix only smiled. “Tell you what, Uncle, as soon as I get the papers saying that I’m unfit for unwinding and as soon as Kagami is out of white, I’ll tell you who Ladybug is. What reason do I have to keep information from you if Kagami’s safe, I’m rich and the powers that be can’t unwind me?”  

With that, Gabriel finally let go of Félix and took a couple of steps back. “Deal.” Gabriel said, extending his hand.

But Félix didn’t take it. “And the Peacock?”

Gabriel sighed, took out a key he wore around his neck and opened the safe hidden behind Emilie’s portrait. Nathalie had started putting the Miraculous away whenever she left the mansion, usually to go to the doctor. “You know, Félix, maybe you could be my heir. From what I’ve seen from you, I’m beginning to believe that you and Adrien were switched at birth. You certainly act like my son.”

Félix shook his hand and left that night with his new Miraculous pinned to his jacket. It had all gone according to plan, but something in Gabriel’s eyes as he made a mad charge at him made Félix seriously reconsider if he’d taken the best approach.

Chapter Text

Eventually Marinette’s headache cleared up, and she went back to the fashion show. When she arrived, her heart was pounding all over again. But this time, it was with excitement. She was about to meet with Audrey (the Audrey Bourgeois!) to talk out the terms of her internship. It really was the chance of a lifetime. (Plus, Adrien was going to be there too!)

“A bit of a bigger stage than a school play, huh?”

Marinette, who had been on Cloud Nine, slammed down to Earth from the voice.

“Hi, Chloé,” Marinette said, trying to be friendly. She was about to work for a fashion icon at a real fashion show in the fashion capital of the world. Not even Chloé was going to ruin this for her. 

Besides, if Chloé decided to be annoyed at her for whatever reason she came up with this time, she might complain to her mother. It never hurt to be nice to your future boss’s kid. Marinette smiled again, practically glowing at her luck.

But Chloé wasn’t so happy. “Just because she liked your scribbles, Dupain-Cheng, doesn’t mean you should get the internship. I… I don’t want you around the place.”

This from someone with a shrine to me in her walk-in closet, Marinette thought, shuddering slightly at the memory of stumbling on that collection when she was at the hotel for a mission. For a second, she wondered what it would be like if Chloé liked Marinette as much as she liked Ladybug. She would stop bullying her at school, for one thing. Maybe they would have even been friends.

Then Chloé stormed off in a huff, and Marinette decided that would be even worse. Sabrina was already Chloé’s best friend, and she was treated like a servant. Maybe Chloé Bourgeois couldn’t be more to anyone she crossed paths with than a spoiled bully. The thought made her a little sad, even as she made her way backstage.

Still, even if it was hard for Marinette to think of anything worse than spending all day, every day with Chloé, she was going to do her best not to show it.

“Ah. There you are.” If Audrey was pleased to see Marinette, she didn’t show it. But she didn’t seem disappointed that she’d shown up, either. It was just a fact in her mind that she would come backstage like she told her to. “I do hope you’re packed. The plane is scheduled to leave once this show is over.”

“P-Packed?” She had her sketchbooks and her pencils, plus a few things she’d made that she was hoping to show Audrey. Was she supposed to bring something else and she forgot?

“For New York.” Audrey examined her manicure. “Do be sure to bring everything you need. It’s so distracting when interns run personal errands on the job.”

That… probably changed things. Her parents were fine with her being an intern— excited for her, even. But Audrey was planning to bring her with her? To another country? She would have to ask her parents all over again, and she wasn’t even sure if this was what she wanted, even if it was best for her future career. Suddenly fourteen felt very, very young.

But before she could ask Audrey if that was really what she meant and not some strange misunderstanding, the nearby door was thrown open.

“Oh, no you don’t!” It was Chloé, stomping up to her. “You’re not going anywhere with her!”

“What are you doing, Colette?” Audrey was stunned for a moment, but at the end of her sentence she was speaking through gritted teeth.

“I want to go with you.” Normally everything Chloé said came out as a demand, but now… she could have been begging. “To New York.”

“Connie—er, Chloé, I don’t have time for this.” Audrey turned to Marinette again. “The plane leaves at seven, understand? It won’t wait for you.”

“But Mom—” Chloé pleaded.

Audrey huffed. “This is not up for discussion, Cleo. Now stop this nonsense and get out. I need to get ready.”

Chloé stepped in between Marinette and her mother. “What does she have that I don’t? I’ll give you whatever you wanted from her, just take me with you to—”

“You don’t have what I’m looking for,” Audrey said coldly. (Marinette flinched; she’d never heard any mother talk to their daughter that way.)

Chloé looked up at her as if she hadn’t heard it. “Please, Mom.”

Audrey turned her back on her, not even bothering to respond. Marinette took a step closer to Chloé, wanting to do something to help her (even though she had no idea what), but then the butterfly landed.

Audrey Bourgeois turned into a solid gold statue, glittering, untouchable and devoid of warmth. She could have been mistaken for an expensive piece of art if it wasn’t for the pair of eerily human blue eyes set in her face.

Chloé reached out to her. “Mom…?”

And in an instant, a golden statue was in Chloé’s place. Marinette had to flee the room so quickly that she didn’t see the molten drop still running down her cheek.

Ladybug ran down the hall so fast her feet almost kept up with her thoughts. Very few of them were actually about the Akuma, at least in her current form.

Audrey couldn’t be like that all the time. Maybe with an intern on a day with a schedule jammed full, but not with her daughter. Maybe in another moment she would have apologized to Chloé, or explain some good reason why she wasn’t taking her to New York. If she was really, truly that horrible, there was no way that anyone, even someone as mean as Chloé, would want to be around her so badly. Right?

But if she was wrong… there were a lot of things about her longtime bully that were starting to make too much sense.

Before she could give it any more thought, she felt a shooting pain in her head. Ladybug was on the verge of panic, thinking it might be another headache. An episode like that during a crisis would be debilitating, and she might as well just call Hawkmoth and hand in her earrings.

“Are you okay?! I’m sorry, M’Lady…”

Ladybug opened her eyes and felt the biggest dose of relief she’d had all day, immediately followed with the biggest dose of annoyance. Chat Noir was standing behind her, and at once it became very obvious what had just happened. He had just accidentally whacked her in the head with his staff. 

Ladybug really was not in the mood. She turned around and glared without saying a word.

Chat Noir put his staff back in his belt holster and took a couple of steps back. It’s funny… Hawkmoth constantly sends his minions after me and I’m not afraid of him, Nathalie and the Gorilla are pretty scary objectively and I’m not afraid of them… but this girl in a spotted spandex suit, I’m afraid of. (Although deep down, it was probably more of a fear of letting her down than of Ladybug herself.)

“Sorry, M’ Lady.” Chat Noir repeated, “I couldn’t find you, and, well… I kinda got bored. So I started twirling my staff around a little…” he gave a nervous laugh, but she was not amused. He sighed. “I’m really sorry I hurt you. It was an accident.”

“It’s fine,” Ladybug said, as evenly as she could make herself sound. “Just be more careful next time, okay, Kitty?” Truth be told, it was hard to stay mad at him— they’d been through everything together, and they both knew he’d never have hurt her on purpose.

He took his staff out again, being more careful this time. “I evacuated everyone I could. I couldn’t get everyone out in time, but it’ll be okay. We can win this.”

Ladybug rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head without thinking about it. “Did you get Adrien out?”

Her partner nodded. Ladybug blushed a little and let out a sigh of relief, but it was quickly replaced with a jolt of anxiety. Wait, did that sound suspicious? If someone realized I know Adrien personally, could they use that? She racked her brain for any reason to be worried about him in particular. “The last thing we need is the press saying we weren’t doing enough to save a celebrity, especially a tithe.”

As soon as she said it, she winced. I didn’t want to sound like I don’t care… “Audrey’s a really dangerous Akuma,” she finished halfheartedly.

Chat’s bright green eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Audrey Bourgeois? She’s the Akuma?”

Ladybug nodded solemnly.

“That’s great!” To her utter astonishment, he laughed and twirled her around by the hand.

What’s the matter with him today? First he whacks me in the head, and now this!

Just as she was about to check him for a concussion, he looked at her and grinned. “Ladybug, it’s okay today. You don’t have to worry!”

It dawned on her what she meant, and she could have hugged him. It’s not a kid… At once she had her yo-yo in hand, feeling ready for anything for the first time since she woke up that morning.

“Let’s do this, Kitty.”

Today it would be like it always should, when she could be absolutely sure that they would be heroes.

The pair’s joy was rudely interrupted by a cold voice that was right behind them. “Polka dots before Labor Day and full-body patent leather? Someone should really call the fashion police.” The voice was mesmerizing yet menacing, and they both knew exactly who it was.

Style Queen, who now took on the appearance of a golden statue with spikes in her hair, blocked the end of the narrow hall. There wasn’t enough time to turn around and run.

Chat Noir didn’t have time to do much thinking, so he went completely on instinct. He charged the Akuma with his baton at the ready, parrying her scepter’s strikes like he’d learned at fencing practice.

Ladybug was about to join him, but he shook his head without looking up. “I’m buying you time.”

No. Not again. Her stomach dropped. She hated it when he did this. “I’m not going to just leave you here!”

“You can do this, Milady.” He looked back at her over his shoulder and smiled. “I know you can.”

“I can’t do this alone!” Style Queen’s scepter nearly made a direct hit to his face, only missing because Ladybug’s yo-yo had redirected it ever so slightly.

“I know you’ll think of something,” he hissed through gritted teeth, barely holding back the Akuma. He was strong, but she was ruthless. “I trust you.” The with my life was unspoken; it didn’t need to be said.

Ladybug swallowed. “I promise I’ll be back.”

Moments after she was gone, a golden flash lit up the hallway and then faded.

One very brief errand later, Ladybug ran back to the site of the Akuma attack at top speed. Clenched in her fist was a golden hair comb that looked for all in the world like a beautiful antique— but otherwise ordinary— piece of jewelry. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too late for someone to use it.

Where is she? She has to be here… there! I knew it! Alya was crouched on a flight of stairs, getting footage for the Ladyblog. She’d carefully picked her vantage point so it wasn’t obvious to anyone unless they knew her well or were unusually observant.

“Alya Césaire.” Ladybug held out the Bee Miraculous in her outstretched hand. “I need you.” There was no time for her usual speech, and besides, she’d already told Alya back when she was Rena Rouge. She didn’t have to tell Alya to use it for good— she already knew she would.

But the moment Alya’s fingers wrapped around the hair comb, her eyes widened as if she had time to consciously process that it was too late. Ladybug stifled a scream as Alya turned into a gilded statue, the Miraculous of the Bee still secure in her metallic grip.

This can’t be happening! Please, Alya, don’t leave me alone too! Ladybug tried to pry it from the statue’s hand, but had to dodge a close swipe from Style Queen’s scepter. Her only saving grace was that Alya’s immovable statue blocked the stairwell too much for the Akumatized villain to follow Ladybug’s escape.

Ladybug rushed through a door and found herself next to the catwalk. If Chat was still here, he’d be having a field day with this one. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

If there was ever a time for a Lucky Charm, this was it.

Even calling out for it was a risk because it could mean being overheard. But when the object fell into her arms, she knew that was exactly what needed to happen.

“Lucky Charm!”

Audrey heard it from the next room. She smiled, knowing her rise to power was nearly complete.

Throwing open the doors, she held out her scepter… and saw an empty auditorium.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Audrey demanded. “Reveal yourself now, by order of the Queen!”

A curtain moved slightly, and Style Queen’s eyes narrowed. She strode down the catwalk like a new royal at her coronation (if quicker and with more of a sense of urgency.) This infidel would not hide from her for long.

“Lucky Charm!”

She yanked the curtain back to find a microphone with a cord connecting it to the nearby speakers. Next to it was a doll covered in spots.

Audrey roughly grabbed the plush hero, snapping a string that had connected something in its back to the ropes that pulled the curtain. “Lucky Charm! Lucky Charm! Luck—”

Tossing the doll to the side, the villain gritted her teeth in rage. How dare that little rabble-rouser trick her!

But wait, how was that possible? The only way for the toy to go off was if somebody pulled the string, and it was tied to—

She looked up just a moment too late.

Ladybug watched from her ceiling beam, where she perched with one hand on the end of her yo-yo. The other end was connected to the pulley that operated the stage curtains.

As soon as Style Queen was in the right place, she knew it was time. Now or never. Chat and Alya had each given her this chance, and she only had one shot.

This one’s for you, kitty. Rolling noiselessly off the opposite side of her ceiling beam, she swung from her yo-yo’s cord like a jungle vine. She slammed into Style Queen from the back, knocking her to the ground hard enough to cause a loud crack.

Ladybug winced, hoping she hadn’t broken a bone. Even if it was temporary, she never liked hurting anyone.

But it was only the expensive pair of sunglasses that released a little black butterfly, and Audrey Bourgeois was her world-famous trend-setting self again.

And all at once, everything was set right. Audrey sat on the floor dazed, with Chloé nearby looking around the room in confusion.

The first thing Ladybug did was check on Audrey. The people who got Akumatized were victims too, and it wasn’t unusual for them to be scared or disoriented when they realized what they had done.

“Are you okay?” Ladybug extended a hand to help Audrey to her feet. “Don’t worry, everything’s okay now—”

“Everything’s okay? As if! What’s the matter with you?” To her astonishment, Audrey slapped her hand away. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this show? Now everyone’s gone and left!”

Despite her superpowers, Ladybug felt herself taking a step back as Audrey advanced. Her tirade continued. “You are very lucky I don’t fire you on the spot!”

“Are you kidding?! She just saved everything!”

Ladybug whirled around, stunned at the voice defending her. Even after everything she’d seen (and done), she had never in a million years expect Chloé Bourgeois, her bully since they were little kids, to be the one defending her from a civilian who had been on the ground a minute ago. The whole world was wrong, all over again.

Audrey’s piercing gaze was now turned to her daughter, who flinched slightly as she turned to look at her. “How dare you talk to me that way? I am your mother, and someone exceptionally important!”

Chloé stepped up to Ladybug’s side, glaring at her mother. “She’s a hero! She’s— she’s just as important as you!”

Audrey froze for a moment, then leaned down slightly to look at Ladybug. It was almost like how she’d examined her earlier that day for her eyes, but this time there were no words of approval.

“Your earrings are flashing. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Her timer was running out. To both Ladybug’s relief and shame, she now had a perfect reason to leave the room.

She stood her ground for a moment longer, hoping she looked like a capable superhero and not a petrified kid in a costume. Then she left the room, careful not to run the way she deeply wanted to.

The moment the heavy doors were closed, she could hear Chloé and her mother again. Most people wouldn’t have been able to make out a word through the walls, but her hypersensitive hearing picked up every word.

“—your stupid intern with you around the world instead of me!” Chloé didn’t sound demanding anymore, just frantic.

“I have a use for my interns, Carly. You know there’s only one real use for you.”

Marinette felt the transformation sweep over her, changing her back into herself. The voices were now too muffled to make out very much.

That didn’t make her feel better. It made her feel sick.

There had to be a way to fix this. Chloé desperately wanted her mother’s attention.

An idea formed in her mind. More than anyone, Audrey was impressed with herself. If she knew how much Chloé acted like her, maybe she’d be pleased. All she would have to do was let slip how Chloé acted, maybe even run in as her civilian self and let Chloé chew her out for some little thing. She could help her.

But as soon as she had a hand on the doorknob, the headache was back. She saw Chloé looking so happy, leaving in a helicopter with her mother. On a level she couldn’t explain, Marinette knew they were headed for New York City.

And on an even more inexplicable level, she knew it wouldn’t end well.

“I don’t know what was wrong with me, Tikki.”

Marinette lay on her back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was too tired for patrol, or even to change out of her day clothes. “I could have given Chloé something she was so desperate for, and… I let her mom walk away from her.” She still wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing, especially since she’d overheard a familiar voice crying.

“You didn’t do that to hurt her, Marinette. I know that, and you know that.” Tikki sat at her side, trying to calm down her girl enough so that she could get some sleep.

Marinette covered her face with her hands. “Does that even matter? I still could’ve done something…”

“You don’t know if anything you said would have made it better,” Tikki pointed out. “You couldn’t predict how either of them would react.”

“But—” No, she was too tired to tell Tikki that she did predict it. And that she still wasn’t sure how badly it would have backfired.

So she brought up something else she’d been meaning to say. “Tikki? I didn’t want to go anywhere with Chloé’s mom, but… there was another reason I told Mom and Dad I didn’t want to take the internship.”

“What was it?”

She took a deep breath. “Chat said the city needed me. When he… gave himself up… he was counting on me to bring him back.” She paused for a while, lost in thought, before whispering, “I can’t leave Paris until we defeat Hawkmoth.”

“Are… are you not happy in Paris?” Tikki whispered.

Marinette thought for a moment. “It’s not that at all, Tikki. All my friends are here, and Mom and Dad. I like being here. It just feels strange now that I know I can’t leave for long.” She smiled and cupped her kwami in her hands. “I don’t want to leave you behind, either. I’m so glad I have you.”

“I’m glad I have you too, Marinette.” Tikki smiled back, but then frowned. “Out of curiosity, was Chat Noir going to find the Bee? I don’t remember you two talking about it.”

“…Didn’t the magical ladybugs fix it when they put everything back?”

Tikki shook her head. “No.”

Marinette shrieked and sat bolt upright. Had she been just a little taller, she would have hit her head on the ceiling. “You mean I lost a Miraculous?!”

Marinette rushed back as Ladybug and scoured the entire building until, at long last, she had to admit that it wasn’t there. But all the way home she was on the verge of panic just wondering what could have happened to it.

And because of how frantic her holder was and how long it took to convince her that for her own health she desperately needed to sleep, Tikki decided not to tell her why she was so glad to hear she wasn’t taking that internship. It was the way Audrey had looked at Marinette’s eyes, like a lapidary examines a precious gem before it’s cut for jewelry.

Chloé was miserable. It didn’t matter that Dupain-Cheng didn’t get to go anywhere with the Audrey Bourgeois; Her mom had still walked out on her again.

She’d chased after the private helicopter in her white heels, calling out for her to stay. Her mom didn’t listen. She never did.

Sabrina was at home today. Chloé hadn’t invited her along. After all, her entire day was spent trying to get someone else’s attention. There was no time to really stop and talk to either of her friends.

The tears in Chloé’s eyes made everything run together until the lights at the end of the dark hall blurred into a distant glimmer. But when she wiped her eyes, something was still shining.

It was a hair comb, old-fashioned but in the way that was just coming back into style. Chloé picked it up, turning it over in her hand.

All at once the comb started to glow. Chloé watched as vivid gold and black painted across the hairpiece, giving it a whole new look. Once the color was as vibrant as it could be, a bee about the size of a mouse appeared over it.

“My queen.”

Chloé pinned the comb into her hair and smiled. She’d prove she was exceptional, whether they were ready or not.

Chapter Text

It was suppertime at the Agreste manor, and as usual, Adrien was in no mood to eat. The china and silverware were resplendent, the servants well-mannered and attentive, the food looked exquisite and his father was nowhere in sight. Adrien felt a little sad, even if he was used to it by now. After losing his mother, his father had become very distant and usually left Adrien to dine alone. Nathalie had taken to joining him, but it just wasn’t the same. Why did losing his mother have to mean losing his father too? 

Gabriel’s presence in Adrien’s life had been at a minimum once the doctors said his mother wouldn’t make it. It became even worse after her loss and worse still when Gabriel told Adrien he was going to be tithed. Can’t get close to the lamb you’re about to sacrifice. 

And it was lamb which Adrien stared down at on the immaculate china plate. He had barely touched his food tonight— there was something else occupying his attention. To his amusement and puzzlement, something was quite out of place in the dining room. Instead of silk napkins, emblazoned with the Agreste brand’s iconic butterfly logo, the silverware sat on a cheap napkin that looked like it was from a party store. It was colored red with black polka dots. Ladybug, Adrien thought, unfolding the napkin and placing it in his lap. 

“Is there something on your mind?”

Adrien was so startled his heart nearly leaped from his chest. His father stood in the doorway of the grand dining room, dressed in a suit as usual, and not once looking up from his tablet. “I thought tonight we could use a small tribute to the one who single-handedly saves Paris nearly every day. What we would do without her, I couldn’t say.”

Gabriel was careful not to show a trace of emotion, even though he felt such disgust as he said the name of that cursed heroine who week after week foiled his plans. If he’s Chat Noir, he’ll correct me. Ladybug was a painful thorn in his side, but Chat Noir had been there every time. And if Gabriel knew Chat Noir, he was too smug and arrogant to not correct him. Something about the blasted cat hero grated on Gabriel’s nerves every time he heard his voice. 

Does that mean I hate my own son?

The thought struck him suddenly, and he nearly lost track of pretending to work. After considering it for only a few seconds, Gabriel came to a conclusion. Yes, I suppose I may. Gabriel continued to stare down at his tablet to avoid snarling at his son. The boy does have green eyes like his mother, and just like that blasted alley cat!

But to his surprise, Adrien lit up like a Christmas tree. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? She’s so graceful, and brilliant, and inventive and—” 

“Yes, well,” Gabriel said a little too quickly, “I suppose she isn’t alone, is she?” The Cat does have a thing for her, doesn’t he? His hands clenched the tablet in a death grip, but then he let out a quiet exhale and regained his calm demeanor. “Although I suspect that with a better partner, Hawkmoth would have been long defeated by now.”

“You’re probably right.” Adrien poked at the lamb with his fork. “She deserves a better partner.”

Gabriel was even more perplexed than before. There was no hint of Chat Noir’s carefree personality— none of the confidence that was so infuriating to see every time. Chat Noir would have defended himself. But what if this is all an act? He looked over his son again. It’s all an act, it must be…

Gabriel thought it was time he try a different approach, something he hadn’t done in months. Taking a few more steps into the dining room, Gabriel did something so out of character, so revolutionary, so beautiful that some of you readers who are parents might need to take note. He put down his work and pulled up a chair next to his son. “Would you mind if I joined you, Adrien?”

Adrien nearly jumped out of his seat. “Yeah, of course!” He thought for a moment. “I mean— no, I don’t mind.” He smiled. “I didn’t know you were such a fan of Ladybug! I could talk about her for hours if you want.”

I can’t listen to this for another minute. Gabriel tried to subtly change the subject.

“I can’t help noticing,” he said calmly as he moved a set of pristine silverware and an empty plate in front of himself, “that some of the doors in this house tend to get stuck now and then.” (Nathalie had just returned from taking her nightly medicine, and the minute she saw what was going on she rolled her eyes but said nothing.) “Tell me, Adrien, let’s just say there was a fire, and the door to your room was stuck… How would you get out?” 

Adrien blinked. “I would probably text Nathalie and tell her I’m stuck. If you don’t mind me asking, what does this have to do with Ladybug?” 

Adrien meant it as an honest question, but his father gave him a death glare that made him nearly choke on some lamb.

“Well, if you have been watching the news,” Gabriel said as if Adrien was a not-so-bright 4-year-old instead of a teenager, “you will have seen that Paris is under attack every week. What would happen if, let’s say… our house was attacked by an Akuma. What would you do then?” 

Adrien sat pondering the question. It seemed like an eternity to Gabriel but it had only been about thirty seconds before Adrien answered. “Well, I guess I would just wait for Ladybug. She always does show up at the best possible time.”

Nathalie almost seemed to be suppressing a giggle. “She always does seem to show up at the exact right time, doesn’t she, Gabriel?”

Gabriel went bright red and almost blew his cover then and there, but he caught himself and made himself take a deep breath. “Let’s say that Ladybug is… indisposed. She’s doing battle with the Akuma and doesn’t have time to find you. What if Ladybug didn’t help you? What then?”

“But Ladybug always does such a good job helping civilians,” Adrien said with a mouth full of food. 

“What if she couldn’t help you, Adrien?” Gabriel demanded with more than a little annoyance, then in a much kinder tone added, “And don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s unbecoming.”

Gabriel looked to Nathalie, who for once smiled and nodded at Gabriel’s parenting. (She did wonder if this had gone on long enough, though; Adrien’s table manners were normally immaculate and he must have been very uneasy to have forgotten them.)

Adrien swallowed his food, and took another sip of water and thought about Gabriel’s question. Just as Gabriel was about to interrogate him again, his eyes up and he smiled. “Oh, I know this one! I’ll just wait for Chat Noir!”  

This time, Nathalie actually did laugh. Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “Adrien!” he said, flabbergasted, “I’m being serious!” So it isn’t him. Felix, you little brat, I’m going to have you in a Harvest Camp by next week!

However, the faintest hint of a smirk on Adrien’s face made him reconsider. It was gone before Gabriel could be sure, but was it a clue? “I’m being serious too, father. If Ladybug is around, then usually Chat Noir is close behind. I’d take shelter and wait for either of them.”

“Adrien,” Gabriel said, putting his head between his hands. Where did the boy get this innate naïveté? Certainly not from him. Gabriel was about to end this interrogation, yell at Adrien and just install more cameras around the gates when he caught a glimpse of Adrien’s concerned face though his fingers. And for the first time in days, he really saw Adrien’s eyes.

Oh. That’s where… Gabriel’s heart sank a little. Emilie, good, kind, honest Emilie who always saw the best in people. What if she knew what he was doing? The question had been playing over and over again in his head for months now. Most of the time it was at the back of his mind, but now seeing Adrien’s (Emilie’s) green eyes looking back at him made him ponder the question more than ever. If the boy is Chat Noir, that’s all I could ask for. There would be no unwinding, no explaining to Emilie where their son was, only perfect familial bliss. 

Gabriel’s hands began to shake at the prospect of having his little family together again. Nathalie looked concerned, but Adrien got up and reached for his father’s hand. “Father? Father, are you okay?”

Gabriel was snapped to attention like someone who has been sleeping very deeply. “What? Yes, yes, what’s the matter, Adrien? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You were shaking. Are you sure you’re okay?” Adrien asked. His voice was full of such genuine concern that it made Gabriel briefly clench his fist.

“I’m fine, Adrien, but I need you to take this seriously.” Gabriel was no longer pretending it was just a curiosity on his part. “If Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t get to you and there was an Akuma in the house, what would you do?”

“Well… I’d find somewhere to hide and I’d stay there until it was over,” Adrien responded softly. “Just like when you were the Collector.”

Gabriel froze. How could he possibly know? For some time now he’d been working on a contingency plan to keep his identity a secret. Should he ever be under suspicion, he would temporarily renounce the Butterfly and let himself be Akumatized. It would be a risk, since he would have to depend on Ladybug and Chat Noir to keep him under control, but should he ever need to use it, the plan would pay off.

But it was still only a plan. Even if he was Chat Noir, he couldn’t know that! He can’t read minds, can he? Gabriel risked a glance at Adrien, who was watching him with even more alarm.

I can’t let him get suspicious. Gabriel could already feel a headache coming on. He spent so much time in his sanctuary that he was losing track of which plans he’d tried and which had only played out in his mind. It didn’t help that the visions of his sleep-deprived mind were so vivid that he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming them or not.

He shook his head. “I’m alright, Adrien. Just… lost in thought.” Now that he thought about clearly, it was obvious what must have happened. For Adrien to know, he must have done it already. Those he Akumatized never remembered what he could have them do. That explained his little lapse in memory. Yes, that was it.

“The Collector… that was quite a day.” Without a clear memory of the incident, he would just have to pretend. No use in Adrien getting suspicious.

Adrien nodded and slowly picked up his fork again, still happy for the company but becoming more and more concerned about his father. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Nothing’s wrong. What about you, Adrien? Anything you might want to tell me?” Gabriel spoke to his son with a strange edge now.

“Um… nothing that I can think of…” Adrien said, shifting uncomfortably. Gabriel narrowed his eyes. He’s lying.

“If there is, you know you can tell me, right? Even if it’s something that you think would make me angry, you can tell me. You know that, right?” 

“Okay…” Adrien said, no longer even trying to just eat his dinner. “Did I do something to get in trouble?”

“You would know the answer to that,” Gabriel snapped. 

Adrien squirmed slightly in his seat. So much for being able to tell him anything.

Noticing his son’s discomfort, Gabriel continued. “I can tell that something is bothering you.”

“Gabriel…” Nathalie interjected.

“A moment please, Nathalie,” he responded. “I’m having a private conversation with my son.” He turned his full attention back to Adrien, who by now had his eyes wide in horror. Here kitty, kitty, kitty, Gabriel thought. “Can you think of anything that I should know about?”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Father.” This was true enough. Adrien wasn’t sure if he really knew or if he was just mad for no reason again. He doesn’t know about… that, does he? He can’t…

Gabriel had finally had it. He fingered the wedding band that he wore. (It was actually Emilie’s, which he’d taken from her hand after his own disappeared.) “Adrien, confess.” His voice lowered. “Now.”

And the effect was immediate. “I’m sorry, I really am! I shouldn’t have done it.”

I knew it! For a moment, Gabriel was torn between triumph at having one of the Miraculous in his grasp and fury at his son for keeping it from him. “You know better than to keep something like that from me.”

“I know it’s for my safety.” Adrien looked down at the floor. “But it was only once, and I came back after five minutes. Please don’t fire anyone. I just gave the Gorilla the slip so I could have a little time to myself.”

“Adrien…” Gabriel sat there in silence for a long time. Either Felix has made a fool out of me, or Emilie and I raised the most skilled liar in the world. “Just… go to your room.”

As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Nathalie crossed her arms and gave Gabriel a judgemental glare. “There might have been a more subtle way to do that.”

Gabriel leaned on the table with his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh. “I know.”

Nathalie shook her head. “I told you it wasn’t him.”

Gabriel sighed again. “I know…”

“How did you even get the idea that Adrien was Chat Noir?” 

Nathalie wasn’t done with him, but Gabriel was not about to admit what exactly he’d done or why the Agreste brand was now making frequent donations to the Felix Fathom Fund. He hesitated, wiping his face off with one of the ladybug napkins. “… I don’t know.”

“What’s he mad over this time?” Plagg asked, gulping down an entire slice of aged Camembert in one bite.

Adrien sighed. “I have no idea.” He flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling while his kwami ate the rest of the cheese platter. “I think he knows about something I did wrong… or that he thinks I did.”

“You don’t even do anything.” Plagg licked his paws clean.

Adrien shrugged. “He’s been acting sort of weird lately. I accidentally brought up something that never happened at dinner and he acted like he remembered it.” His eyes widened and he sat up suddenly. “You don’t think he’s sick, do you?”

“Sick in the head, maybe,” Plagg muttered. But Adrien was too lost in thought to hear him.

I didn’t know he was a fan of Ladybug’s work too. Maybe if I could tell him I’m Chat Noir, he’d be proud of me. The thought gave him a small smile, but it quickly faded as he remembered his father’s earlier words. Then again, maybe not…

He dropped back onto his bed, sighing a little. “Hey, Plagg?”

Plagg looked over at him. “Yeah, kid?”

Adrien spoke very softly. “Do you think he’s right? What if Ladybug would have defeated Hawkmoth by now if she had a better partner?”

Had Adrien already told him not to on several occasions, Plagg would have Cataclysmed Gabriel Agreste for what he was doing to his kitten. “No way. Trust me, there’s no one on the planet she’d rather have than you.” He looked down at his stomach. “Even if you’re letting me starve.”

Adrien gave him a look that Nathalie would have been proud of. “You just ate an entire cheese platter.”

Plagg crossed his paws. “So what’s your point?”

Chapter Text

Ladybug and Chat Noir stood side by side, keeping a lookout for any surprise attacks. Most of the people who were transformed by Wishmaker’s magic were perfectly harmless (if odd; she had to agree with Chat Noir that there was probably no good reason to turn that man into a talking cucumber, even if he was quite proud of himself), but a few who had apparently gone through dinosaur phases as little kids were going to be a bit more of a problem.

“What would happen if you got hit?” asked Ladybug as she narrowly dodged a blast. (Somewhere behind her, a random civilian achieved their long-forgotten childhood dream of being half dolphin.)

Chat Noir stopped in his tracks. Ladybug was hoping she would get an answer, because the usual devil-may-care attitude was replaced by apparent deep contemplation for just half a second. There has to be something he wanted for his future…

No sooner had he gone quiet, however, than he was back in his usual rhythm as if nothing had happened. “Don’t know, Milady.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Ladybug pulled him behind a car that had been turned on its side by a parade of cartoon animals. “What did you want to be when you were little?”

Chat just shook his head. “I don’t know… A goldfish maybe or an astronaut… Maybe a goldfish astronaut?”

Ladybug noticed the hesitation in his reply. She was about to say something when she heard a voice from her yo-yo’s phone function. 

“I’m in position!” Viperion’s whisper was a gentle hiss, still  it startled her all the same. “Should I set the loop now or—?”

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged a nod, then stepped out from behind the car. Wishmaker grinned triumphantly. “Found you!”

Ladybug took her yo-yo from her belt. “Now!”

There was a flash of white light, but only one person there could see it.

Loop 1

“Are you ready, Milady?” Chat Noir asked, standing back-to-back with his partner. Before she could reply, a gold and black blur shot onto the scene.

“What—“ Ladybug stared at the girl in gold who had just shown up. The Akuma took her distraction as an opportunity to lunge at her.

Ladybug felt Wishmaker’s hands brush by her ear. She recoiled, but not fast enough. Just before Wishmaker could take the Miraculous (and a chunk of Marinette’s ear with it), Viperion’s voice rang out loud and clear.

“Second Chance!”

Loop 2

“Are you ready, Milady?” Chat Noir asked, standing back-to-back with his partner. Luka had the weirdest impression of when he was little and he and Juleka would watch movies on his mom’s ancient VHS. He remembered rewinding the tapes and seeing the static waves as the scene moved backwards. Once again, the girl in gold made her appearance.

“Ladybug! Watch out!”

Viperion’s warning came just in the nick of time, and Wishmaker missed Ladybug’s ear by a hair. However, as he went down he fired a bolt of energy on reflex, hitting her square in the chest. 

The newly-detransformed Ladybug, now a manifestation of her 7-year-old vision for the Knitting Fairy, dove behind a car for cover. “Chat Noir, Luka, don’t look at me! Quick, reset!”

(It was lucky that he (hopefully) hadn’t had a very good look, but he honestly thought she looked very cute with sparkly pink wings.)

“Second Chance!”

Loop 6

Luka for his part was feeling very sorry for all the times he watched Franklin on VHS and rewound him. I must have made that turtle feel about how I’m feeling. I think I’m going to puke. But for the sake of not having to reset the loop a seventh time, he restrained himself. Barely.

“Are you ready Mi-?”

“No time!” Luka hissed, almost a little too harshly. The other two didn’t remember the loops every time they reset. He did. And it was getting old.

“Someone’s about to join us. Be ready.” 

In hindsight, he probably should’ve specified that they were about to get an ally. The two more experienced holders were high-strung already after everything they’d been through, and with a Miraculous augmenting your reflexes, it was even harder to hold back.

“Ow! What is wrong with you?!” A very angry Queen Bee held the side of her face after being smacked with both Chat Noir’s staff and Ladybug’s yo-yo. “I’m a hero too!”

In between her apologies, Ladybug looked at Luka. He nodded; she didn’t even have to ask. “Second Chance.”

Loop 10

“No time to explain,” Viperion said before Chat or Ladybug could say anything. “We’re getting another hero.”

 No sooner had he said it than their new ally came into view. 

“Queen Bee!” the girl clad in gaudy gold announced herself, in a costume that resembled the stripes of a bee. As Queen Bee stood in front of them, she struck a pose like she had paparazzi lined up around the block just eager to take her picture. From the corner of his eye, Viperion saw Ladybug roll her eyes. Something tells me that this is going to be a very interesting partnership, he thought. 

“Don’t worry, Ladybug!” Queen Bee said enthusiastically, “I’ve got this!” Before anyone could stop her, she charged the Akuma.

“Wait!” They called in unison, but it was too late. To the new hero’s credit, she did manage to run loops around Wishmaker, tangling him in the cord attached to her weapon. It was a little like Ladybug’s yo-yo, except that it ended in what looked like a cross between a bee’s stinger and a dreidel.

Despite Queen Bee’s brave (or arguably reckless) attack, Wishmaker was not so easily beaten. As she wound the cord to her spinning top around Wishmaker, he managed to catch a loop around his arm. When Queen Bee got too close, Wishmaker lifted his hand slightly and zap. Queen Bee was blasted. 

The other three stood in sheer horror as they watched Wishmaker’s beam hit Queen Bee. It all happened so fast that there was no chance to stop it. All three of them had very active imaginations, and deep down were waiting to see what Queen Bee would turn into. But they were all shocked when the beam faded, leaving Queen Bee looking exactly the same. 

“Why didn’t this thing work?” Queen Bee said angrily. She shook the top in frustration like a child who didn’t know how to turn on their new toy.

“You’re supposed to call out the power to activate it first,” groaned Ladybug with her hands covering her face. What went through her mind during Queen Bee’s charge was along the lines of Are you crazy? But now, what instead came out was, “Are you okay?”

There was no response from Queen Bee. Nothing had changed about the girl in gold. Nothing at all except for how wide her eyes were, staring at the woman who emerged from a glittering shower of blue.

It was someone everyone saw on billboards and in magazines, but different. She was about a decade younger, and her eyes were a different color. Softer, too, and her smile was brighter than the expensive yellow suitcase she pulled behind her.

Queen Bee shakily reached out a hand. “Mom?”

The woman reached back, taking Queen Bee’s hand lovingly in hers. She smiled. “I missed you so much, darling.”

 Queen Bee choked back a sob as Wishmaker’s cruel parody of Audrey Bourgeois pulled her into her arms. “I’m home, my exceptional girl, and I promise I’ll stay.”

“Mom…” the Bee holder said again, clinging to the illusion of her mother as the others watched in shock. Viperion felt sick to his stomach, realizing that when this girl was little, all she wanted to be was loved.

By the look on Ladybug’s face, she was figuring out the same thing. Without thinking, she tried to put a hand on Queen Bee’s shoulder.

“Chloé…”

But Wishmaker had gotten free and actually had a hand on one earring in the moment it took Viperion to reset the loop.

“Second Chance!”

Loop 14

“Remember to call it out first!” Viperion shouted. Wishmaker was momentarily tangled in a web made by wrapping Ladybug’s yo-yo string around two poles, a maneuver that took a surprising amount of loops to get exactly right.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Queen Bee huffed before launching her attack. “Venom!”

With Wishmaker briefly paralyzed, Chat Noir managed to use his Cataclysm on the object without getting hit. To everyone else, everything was all cleared up in three minutes and twelve seconds.

To Luka, it wasn’t quite that simple.

He went to the usual meeting place in the sewers. It had been another successful mission. He couldn’t keep doing this.

Sometimes he wished he didn’t know people as well as he did. Ladybug’s face in that instant she was unmasked shouldn’t have been enough. He wasn’t supposed to know, and if that was his only clue, he might never have.

But there was that tremor in Ladybug’s voice when she recognized Queen Bee as the girl from the tithing party’s announcement. It was that slight catch in her voice that was the same when she was anxious or found a friend crying. For all his power as Viperion, he couldn’t rewind his own mind and stop himself from recognizing Marinette.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luka thought out loud, “especially now that I know…”

He looked around his secret place where he transformed for all his missions. It was sad to think this would be his last one.

But with every loop, the images in his head had become stronger and sharper. He knew who Ladybug was now. Marinette’s identity was safe with him, but from that moment the pressure in his head was near bursting, bordering on another dangerous realization. He already knew if he kept looping any further he would learn Chat Noir’s identity too, even if it was just from the strange memories trying to burst into his thoughts.

Something in the back of his mind kept telling him that he was meant to uncover Chat Noir’s identity today, and that knowing both was a very bad idea. He wanted to keep being Viperion, but finding out who Chat Noir was would put him, Ladybug and the whole world at risk. There was a reason that Ladybug and Chat didn’t even tell each other who they were. If Luka was Akumatized even once, and he knew… he shuddered.

“I can’t know.” He didn’t know he’d said it out loud until another voice replied.

“So you’re going to use Ladybug’s identity to watch over Marinette, but you won’t use Chat Noir’s identity to watch over him?”

Luka looked down at the snake bracelet to see if it had somehow opened its mouth, but saw that the Snake was… well, about as normal as a snake bracelet that let you loop time over and over again was ever going to be. I must be going crazy. It must be the looping. Marty McFly traveled through time. He didn’t go crazy, so why do I go crazy? I didn’t even accidentally date my Mom… He started to slide the bracelet off his wrist.

“And what are you doing?” Luka was a little relieved to realize the voice was from Sass, the resident Kwami of the snake miraculous.

 “Oh, hello Sass.” Luka smiled slightly, but then sighed at what he had to say next. “I have to quit.”

“Quit!” Sass said indignantly, floating mere inches from Luka’s face.

Luka nodded. “I’m glad I got to be Viperion. It really has been an honor, but now I know too much. I already know Ladybug is my kid sister’s classmate who has a crush on me…”

(Here Sass noticed a slight blush on Luka’s face and knew what else he hadn’t said,)

“…and my instincts are telling me that if I dig any deeper, I’ll remember who Chat Noir is and that will ruin everything. Do you think you can find a new holder?”  

His resignation speech was blunt, but still calm and kind as always. There was no hesitation and only a small hint of remorse. 

This is the reason you’re not getting off so lightly, Couffaine, Sass thought. Maybe there was still a way to keep him.

“No, I can’t just find myself a new holder! Do you know how long it takes to find someone with the right… qualifications to wear that bracelet?”

“Ladybug will find someone else,” Luka said, holding the bracelet in his hand. “She always looks after everyone. You’ll find a better holder.”

“Maybe after two hundred years or so. I won’t…”

What Sass was about to say was I won’t let you quit. However, Sass knew Luka better than to tell him that he couldn’t do something. For all his gentleness, the boy had a rebellious streak deep down. “You’re the most qualified for the job. You can’t walk away now—”

Luka set the bracelet down where Ladybug would find it. “Watch me.”

There was no anger in what he said, no malice or resentment. It was just what he had to do. “As I said before, it’s been an honor Sass. It was the most fun I’ve ever had in my entire life.”  

Luka could hear Ladybug moving the manhole and calling out to him. He walked out of the sewers, Sass following close behind all the while hissing at him not to quit. “Luka. Luka! Boy, get back here right now!”

He stopped just before Sass would have had to return to his bracelet. “I really am sorry. I know it’s not fair to you, but it’s better for everyone.”

Sass watched him leave even as Ladybug arrived to congratulate him on another great mission. He didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

“No.”

“No?” Gabriel was taken aback by Adrien’s defiance. Apparently he had waited until now to be stubborn. Why today, Adrien, why today?

Adrien shook his head. “I said no. I can’t endorse a place like that. Tithing me is one thing, Father.  But asking me to pretend it’s fine to do that to other kids is too far. I won’t do it.” 

“This is not up for discussion, Adrien,” Gabriel said sternly, glaring at his son.

Normally Adrien would do his modeling assignments without a complaint, but today was different. “I’m not doing a harvest camp. I don’t care if you tithe me next week and don’t let me go back to school in the meantime. I’m not doing it!” 

Do you think this was my idea? Gabriel wanted to yell. This was Tomoe’s idea. Apparently she sensed that Gabriel had been dragging his feet on tithing Adrien, and insisted on reaffirming to the public that his generosity was unwavering. All it will take is this commercial and the PR department will be happy. At all costs, the public had to be on their side.

“Adrien, it’s not a typical harvest camp,” Gabriel tried to convince him. “It’s a luxury resort, and they’re all tithes, like you. They want to be there.”

“You can’t know that.” Adrien looked away. “And either way, I’m still not doing it.”

Normally such a display of insolence would mean Adrien would be grounded even from school. But today, Gabriel was tired of it. He was tired of the coldness, tired of the distance, tired of being the father to a tithe. He just wanted his family back. 

“Adrien, it is a two-minute commercial.”

Adrien expected his attempt at rebellion to be met with gritted teeth and a raised voice, but instead the voice was coaxing. The last time he’d heard it was a long time ago on a day he didn’t want to do piano lessons. Somehow he’d ended up practicing anyway, and having a good time too. 

“I can’t be in there,” Adrien said, his voice sounding smaller. “I just can’t.”

“It’s only for a few hours,” coaxed Gabriel. “I’m not leaving you there, today or ever.”

“Oh…” Adrien’s eyes widened for a moment. “I thought you’d send me there when… you know…”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not about to entrust your care to strangers. You’ll stay here at home until your appointment at a private hospital. I’ve flown in the world’s leading experts for the procedure.” He’d meant to be comforting, but Adrien’s sharp intake of breath told him he wasn’t.

Gabriel’s voice became firm again. “Adrien, you are going to be in this commercial.”

Adrien looked away. “No, I’m not.”

Within the hour, the Agreste limo was pulling up to the massive building’s security gate. Adrien sat in the backseat, staring at the floor. Nathalie was with him for moral support, although he saw her giving his father dirty looks at every opportunity. Gabriel Agreste himself wouldn’t be making an appearance; as always, he supervised the production virtually through the screen of a tablet.

Before anyone even got out of the car, they all regretted showing up. The entire building, which was supposed to be highly secure, was swarming with people. The crowd was so dense that it was almost impossible to see the front door.

What happened next was almost definitely inevitable.

“Adrien Agreste is here!” a random voice that almost certainly belonged to a teenage girl called out.

Oh no… Adrien, Gabriel, and most of all The Gorilla all thought despairingly. The mob was upon them, pushing and shoving and crowding around the group, making Adrien feel like he was choking. It was even worse inside; All Nathalie could do was keep a tight hold on Adrien until they were both shoved into an elevator by the Gorilla. The doors closed and finally everybody could breathe again. 

Nathalie looked over Adrien first. He was rattled and his hair was a mess, but to her relief otherwise unharmed. It was also a relief to the Gorilla, who despite being a big and burly man was crying on the inside because this was supposed to be an easy day.

Even Gabriel hadn’t quite escaped unscathed; his tablet screen was cracked, and he was still pondering if Nathalie would get him a new one after he made her so angry when the elevator doors opened.

They were immediately greeted by two men who seemed to be in charge. The first one to speak up to the boy, his Mom’s old best friend and his billionaire insane father who was a tablet was a somewhat older, more rotund man with a great big beard. Despite his jolly appearance, he looked exhausted and this gave Adrien a very bad feeling. This was Thomas, a seasoned director who had worked with Adrien from time to time since he was really small. He usually worked with movies and popular TV shows, a few of which Adrien had made celebrity cameos for.

The other man was long and lanky and wore an expensive suit. He may have been younger than Thomas, but it was hard to tell after all the drinking and partying had taken its toll. Even the obvious plastic surgeries did nothing for the bags under his eyes. The man smelled of cheap vodka and expensive cologne.

“Adrien Agreste, Papa Agreste, glad to meet you!” The lanky man extended his hand to Adrien (who politely shook it), and then pretended to fist bump the tablet screen. Gabriel was not amused. “And who might you be, sir?”

Thomas groaned, wondering why he agreed to this. “This is Mr. Gastaut de la Mazière. He is the owner and operator of Verdon Gorge Harvest Resort.”

“Charmed.” Gabriel said flatly.

(Adrien suddenly felt the need to wash his hands and take a two-hour shower.)

“And who might this lovely lady be?” Gastaut said, taking the liberty of making a grab for Nathalie‘s hand. Nathalie took a couple steps back, and held very tight to the tablet. “My name is Nathalie Sancoeur. I am Mr. Agreste’s personal assistant.” The tightness in her voice was apparently lost on Gastaut, who only backed down once she gave him her most withering glare. “You’ll forgive me if I do not shake hands, as you see I am literally holding on to my employment.”

Gastaut was about to say something else when Gabriel interrupted. (For once in her life, Nathalie was glad for Gabriel’s rude habits.) “Thomas, you had better have a good explanation for why we were mobbed on the way in here. I thought your policy was that no one who is not in this commercial is allowed past the front door.” 

“It is, Mr. Agreste,” Thomas insisted. “I have no idea what happened!”

“It was my idea,” Gastaut cut in proudly.

“Your idea?” Gabriel, Nathalie and Thomas all said.

“Yes!” Gastaut said. “I was just sitting in my penthouse suite overlooking my luxurious paradise of a harvest camp—“

 Thomas coughed, Adrien looked at the floor, Nathalie (to Gastaut’s disappointment) rolled her eyes, and Gabriel began to rub his temples. Gastaut noticed none of this and kept going.

“—And I was thinking, my business sure reaches a lot of people, doesn’t it? So I was thinking, why hire actors? I could just get a bunch of real people to do the commercial for free! Make it more authentic! Those wonderful people who greeted you in the lobby are counselors, doctors, nurses, parents—”

They almost tore me apart before my unwinding, Adrien thought with a shiver as Nathalie subtly moved him behind her.

“—And most importantly, those who were sold parts of the tithes who have passed through my gates!” Gastaut grinned, clearly expecting to be showered with praise for his genius idea.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Thomas asked, “…Don’t you mean donated?”

“Yes, yes, but usually donated in exchange for a generous donation,” Gastaut nonchalantly answered, winking at him.

“Pretending that I didn’t hear that…” Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You told all of your employees, former customers and literal strangers to come here and be in a commercial with zero vetting, and disregarded all instructions to not take any pictures?”

“Yeah.” Gastaut was getting a little annoyed that his grand plan was not met with unanimous praise. “So?”

On the other end of the tablet, Gabriel was wishing he had actually shown up in person so he could grab this man by the collar and shake him. “You idiot! Do you know how famous my son is?”

“So? All it means is more business!” 

Gabriel’s normally very pale complexion became bright red. 

Contrary to popular belief, Adrien did know a fair amount of cuss words. Before he could hear all of them and learn a few more for good measure, Nathalie cleared her throat. “Adrien, have you been to the bathroom since we left?”

Now that she mentioned it, he really hadn’t. He shook his head.

“There’s one by the lobby. Go, and take your bodyguard with you.”

“Planning to say something the kid shouldn’t hear?” Gastaut gave Nathalie a look that made her stomach turn.

For the moment, we shall draw a curtain while they sort this out.

No sooner did Adrien get to the bathroom than his phone buzzed with an incoming Akuma alert. Adrien leaned over the bathroom sink and groaned.

How was he supposed to get out now? Even if he did, the Gorilla was going to notice he was gone. He’d only been in there for two minutes and his bodyguard came to check on him twice.

“No. Way!”

An enthusiastic voice right in Adrien’s ear made him look up. He recognized the kid staring at him as one of his online friends— screen name Wayhem. He was sweet, but so enthusiastic that it got a little overwhelming. Like right now, with him jumping up and down and grinning. Adrien’s face fell as he got a look at him and saw he was wearing white clothes and a hotel wristband. I didn’t know he was a tithe…

If Wayhem noticed Adrien’s unease, he didn’t show it. “I can’t believe I’m actually meeting the Adrien Agreste! This is so cool!”

In spite of everything, Adrien actually smiled back. Wayhem’s enthusiasm did make people smile, and it was good to see him so happy. At least one of us is having a great time.

“Is it true that you’re here for a new commercial?” Adrien winced, and Wayhem immediately changed the subject— slightly. “…Can I have your autograph?”

“Yeah, as soon as I get a pen.” Suddenly Adrien had an idea. “I’m really sorry to ask you this, but… would you do me a favor?”

“Are you kidding?! Of course!”

Chat Noir sauntered right out of the bathroom. He couldn’t resist giving a little grin to the Gorilla as he walked by.

The bodyguard knocked on the door to the bathroom. From inside, out of one of the pristine stalls, came a voice that was unmistakably Adrien Agreste’s. “Just a few minutes!”

Wayhem was only too eager to get to pretend to be him (which was such a strange feeling, but it made a friend so happy). Until he went back, changed back into Adrien inside a stall and gave him the all-clear, he’d be sitting in a bathroom stall playing a recording of Adrien’s voice every few minutes. He was even wearing Adrien’s shoes, so if anyone saw under the stall, it would still look like him.

Before Chat could find the Akuma, she found him. A gust of rainy wind from the lobby nearly knocked him over, and he clung to the wall as a shield.

Stormy Weather stood in the middle of the lobby, her umbrella open and rain swirling around her.

“Beautiful day here at Verdon Gorge, huh, Kitty?” With a twirl of her umbrella, thick rain and hurricane-force wind nearly blinded Chat and threw him hard against a wall. He was sure if he hadn’t had his Miraculous, the sheer force would have killed him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, kitty-kitty!” Stormy said sarcastically. “I forgot cats hate getting wet! Don’t worry, Stormy Weather will fix that for you!” In ten seconds time, Chat went from being wet and miserable to feeling like he had been at the beach for far too long. The glaring gold light from the tip of the umbrella was as hot and brutal as the sun on the worst day of the summer. 

Chat could literally feel his skin baking. He clenched his teeth, dragging himself to the shade behind a large couch.

Stormy Weather clicked her tongue. “The kitty doesn’t like the sun, he doesn’t like the rain. What the Hail does he like?”

Chat Noir was too winded and sunburned to dodge the indoor storm. At first it was almost like snow, but in a few seconds the hailstones were the size of jawbreakers and still growing.

“Stop! What are you doing?” A purple butterfly mask lit up over Stormy Weather’s face, and she froze for an instant. “I told you to take his Miraculous, not kill him!”

“Sorry old man,” Stormy Weather laughed, “I don’t have to do what anyone tells me now!” She let out a long cackle and Adrien could have sworn that he heard genuine pain and anguish buried underneath her laughter. 

I’m not getting unwound, and Hawkmoth’s got getting his hands on my Miraculous? You’d think this would be a pretty good day…

Chat was sure he was done for, and all he could do was lift his arm and disintegrate a piece of baseball-sized hail that was about to hit him in the face.

Stormy laughed. “That’s what you wasted your Cataclysm on? Say good night, Kitty!” By now the hailstones were just a bit bigger than a bowling ball. Just before the biggest stones could fall and crush his head, he was yanked backwards by the ankle.

“Hey, kitty. Are you okay?” 

When Chat Noir came round, everything hurt. His back, his head, his arms, his legs, everything— but it didn’t matter because Ladybug was waiting for him. “Have I died and gone to heaven? Because right now I’m looking at an angel.” 

Ladybug’s first thought was relief that her partner wasn’t too injured to make that remark. Her second thought was that if that he hadn’t been so gravely injured, she would have smacked him into the middle of next week. Instead, she smiled. “Glad to hear you’re okay!”

Chat sat up and rubbed his head. “You ready, M’Lady?” He tried to stand up, but Ladybug had to catch him and set him down gently again. “You’re not going anywhere, Kitty.”

 “I can fight!” Chat Noir protested, shaking bits of ice and scorched carpet out of his hair.

“Only if you didn’t get hit again.” Ladybug winced, wondering if that had come out right. It was true, though— their Miraculous powers helped them endure almost anything, but they still weren’t indestructible. If he pushed himself any further, Ladybug could end up on her own.

“What are you going to do?” Chat Noir sounded like a cat who had just had a bath.

“I’ll find her and we’ll figure it out from there,” Ladybug said, ruffling his hair. “Get some rest, okay, Kitty?” 

With that, Chat Noir put his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Ladybug left her partner to his catnap and went in search of her foe.

The staff and all but the most curious tithes were sheltering in the grand cathedral (or the tacky attempt at one, anyway). Ladybug was alone in the last place she ever wanted to be. Despite its luxurious trappings and how happy all the “campers” were to be there, the place felt sickening.

 Kids die here every day, Ladybug thought with one foot on a red carpet. Not die… unwound…

Ladybug shook her head and kept walking. “Same difference,” she said aloud.

It wasn’t hard to find Stormy Weather. The red carpet led to one single building where dark clouds gathered in an otherwise blue sky.

Ladybug was a hero. It was her job to save people, even if she didn’t like them. The fire department doesn’t let buildings burn, even if people do horrible things in there. She had to do this.

But why here? Her stomach turned with a horrible thought. Adrien’s doing a commercial here. This is probably where his dad is going to send him. This is where Adrien is going to die.

Ladybug took a deep breath and broke into a sprint. I can’t think about that now. If I stop to think about it, Adrien is going to die right now along with everybody else here. She hoped wherever he was, he was at least safe from the Akuma.

A catnap, by definition, is not very long. After his two-minute power nap, Chat Noir was up and going again. It still hurt, but in his mind his status had been updated from mostly dead to slightly alive. 

Unlike Ladybug, he didn’t have to look to know where Stormy Weather was hiding. In spite of nearly killing him earlier, this Akuma was really not a monster but some scared kid. Chat Noir could normally empathize with his opponents on some level, especially the ones he and his Lady had faced lately. But in this case, it might as well be himself. If he were to go rogue and vent all his frustrations at being a tithe, only one place could be the center of the storm.

The place in question was a single rectangular building that stood at the end of the red carpet. The people who built and maintained this terrible place had done their very best to make the place seem as non-threatening and benign as possible. The building was painted white, just like the robes every tithe wore, and there were murals painted on the building of rainbows and smiling people. The building itself was surrounded by great hedges made to look like different animals. There were elephants, and giraffes and bears and even two hedges cut to look like a cat and a beetle.

As Chat Noir crept to seek cover behind the giant cat, he noticed that someone put a black face mask on it and a red one on the ladybug. Well, aren’t we popular. He cracked a smile at the idea of a kid sneaking the masks onto the bushes.

A powerful gust of wind shook the painstakingly-manicured bushes. Stormy Weather was leaning over the edge of the roof, holding Ladybug at bay with attack after attack. Just like he had done, Ladybug struggled against the rain. She could barely get into range to throw her Yo-Yo, let alone land a hit. And when she did get close, Stormy Weather would dodge it and summon a particularly strong gust of wind that would push Ladybug back to square one. It wasn’t even a stalemate; it was a last stand.

Chat Noir often wondered how Ladybug came up with her ideas. Any random object could be a chance for victory in her hands. Today, he had his own flash of inspiration. Climbing onto the back of the cat topiary, he leaped onto the corner of the building and clung to the drainpipe. It was louder than he’d been hoping, but nobody could hear him over the roar of the mini-hurricane overhead. Scrambling over the edge of the rooftop, he made a wild dash at the Akuma. He was only two or three feet away when she sent him tumbling.

“Aren’t cats supposed to be quiet?” Stormy laughed, pushing him closer to the edge of the roof. “Let’s see if they even land on their feet.” She was about to deliver a cyclone-force blast, but stopped and lowered the umbrella ever so slightly. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because I know my Lady.”

Chat knew his partner couldn’t see what was happening from the ground. All she knew was that a break in the storm gave her an opening. A zipping sound from her yo-yo string retracting was a giveaway, but not if Stormy was already too focused on him to hear it. Now Ladybug was on the roof opposite her partner, ready for their victory.

“Surrender now, Stormy—” She stopped, realizing they weren’t alone on the roof. “Chat, what— you’re supposed to be resting!”

He smiled sheepishly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you cats don’t really do orders?”

She groaned, but turned her attention back to the Akuma. “Look… you don’t have to do this.”

Stormy shook her head. “I didn’t have another way.”

Ladybug had that look she got when the headaches were hitting. “There has to be. Trust me… fame isn’t worth this.” The image of Aurore in tears after the auditions filled her mind, nearly spilling over.

Stormy looked confused, then alarmed, then enraged. “You think I did this for attention?” With a strike of her umbrella, water poured from the rainclouds overhead, forming a huge puddle around her feet. Lightning struck rapid-fire, with the puddle quickly spreading the deadly voltage.

Ladybug and Chat Noir retreated into opposite corners on the roof, the only places still dry enough to not get electrocuted. Chat Noir never heard her call on her Lucky Charm, but the polka-dotted bundle that fell into his partner’s hands was unmistakable.

Ladybug shook open the loose package, revealing a pair of red rubber rainboots wrapped in a flimsy poncho that might have been useful in a mild drizzle.

The wind immediately pulled the poncho from her grip, but Chat Noir caught it by the corner before it could be blown away. “I’ve got this one, Milady.” He smiled and brandished the spotted poncho like a matador’s cape. “Olé!”

“Why you— give me that!” Stormy tried to grab it, but he leaped to another dry spot moments before the other one filled. He was laughing, even as bolts of lightning missed him by a cat hair.

They chased each other around the roof, with Chat dancing from one dry spot to another until the whole roof was soaked and all he could do was jump off.

Stormy smirked at him as he landed on the bug topiary. “Got any last words?”

He couldn’t resist. “Turn around.”

Just as she looked, a gloved hand landed on the side of her parasol. Stormy gaped at Ladybug, wide-eyed. “How?!”

“The other part of my Lucky Charm.” Ladybug’s oversized red rainboots insulated her from the shock, allowing her to stand unharmed in the crackling water.

Stormy growled and tried to wrench the umbrella away. “I’m not giving up! Not after all this!”

She must have pulled a little too hard, because as they grappled for the umbrella, both girls tumbled from the roof. They bounced off a hedge and landed sprawling on the ground.

“Milady!” Chat rushed over to her. “Are you okay?”

Ladybug glanced over her opponent before dusting herself off. Aurore was curled over on her side, but the Cure would fix any injuries she got during the fight. “I think we’re okay, but I’ll check on her before I go. Call this one with me.” She kicked off her rainboots.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” they called out at the same time, Chat launching the poncho into the air as his partner tossed her boots. The glittering ripple of beetles swept away the last of the storm, and the sky was blue again.

Chat Noir headed for the girl on the ground, but Ladybug stopped him. “Look at your ring.” He had less than a minute before he changed back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help her. Just hurry.”

He reluctantly dashed off, and Ladybug went to see what was wrong. Now that she was closer, she could hear crying. “Aurore?”

She wasn’t where Ladybug left her, but that was okay. This time they would really win. Security wasn’t that far, but they were nowhere near as fast as Ladybug. She could pick up Aurore and have her somewhere across the city in no time, far away enough for a good head start. Maybe she could even sneak her home and she could hide there if she was careful enough. The bakery storeroom was pretty big.

“There you are! Let’s get you—” Ladybug never finished her sentence. Aurore had dragged herself to sit against the wall. Something trickled down her arm, staining the side of her paper gown. She looked dazed and struggled to her feet, like a baby fawn trying to walk.

Is that… Ladybug’s eyes widened as she saw the tube in Aurore’s arm, which had obviously been yanked out of an IV bag. Something green was dripping from it. It’s not blood… but what is that?

Ladybug tied off the end of the tube with one of her hair ribbons. It can’t be safe to leave that open. “Where does it hurt?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks…” Aurore sounded sleepy. “I can’t feel it.”

“Can’t feel what?” Ladybug was surprised at how calm her own voice sounded. She thought she would have panicked by now.

“Don’t worry, it’s not...” Aurore trailed off, her head tilting to the side slightly. There was another IV line in the side of her neck, this one no longer connected to anything. “It’s okay. They’ll take care of it…”

Now the shakiness made sense. “They… They already started, didn’t they?”

Aurore nodded.

“I’ll get you out of here.” Ladybug wrapped an arm around her, holding her up. Nothing could prepare her for what Aurore asked next.

“Can you help me back inside?”

“What?”

It was like the world had stopped again. Somehow in the back of her mind Ladybug already knew she couldn’t swing over the rooftops with someone in this condition, but Aurore was a fighter even when she had already been beaten. It was wrong to give up on her.

But now that firecracker of a girl held both arms tightly against her own stomach. Traces of something were faintly seeping through her gown, and Ladybug had a horrible feeling about what. “They’ve already started. I… I was on the table when…” Her voice trailed off. “Just… help me get back.” She took another wobbly step.

There was nothing Ladybug wouldn’t have done to get Aurore out of there, but her anesthetized stumbling was what finally made it clear. It had been too late even before the Akuma came.

Chapter Text

In the middle of the night, Luka sat on the deck of the Liberty softly playing his guitar. His mom and twin sister were asleep belowdeck, and he had to be careful not to wake them up.

It would be painful for them to learn what he’d done. The worst part was that he couldn’t explain it to them like he could with Mari—

Ladybug—

Her. She would know why he had to do it, but they wouldn’t. It would be okay in the end. Luka desperately wished he could show them that.

Don’t think about it too much. You’ll attract butterflies.

He’d written them letters, explaining the best he could without putting them in danger. That was why he had to do this— everyone around him was in danger as long as he was here.

At the time, he’d thought giving up the Miraculous would be enough. Problem was, walking away didn’t mean leaving the memories behind. Every loop made them stronger, and whenever he thought about it, he felt how close he was to remembering both of their identities.

He’d tried to make it work. He tried throwing himself into his music, starting new projects and occupying his mind with anything he could find. His worst idea had been setting up a date night for himself and Marinette. He’d planned every detail to make a wonderful night together, but it was impossible to look into her eyes without seeing a spotted mask over them. The guilt was drowning him.

He checked his phone, sighed and played a final tune on his guitar before setting it down. It was time to go.

Just a short walk and he was riding the late-night bus, on his way to a street corner. It was hard to think about what he had to do tonight, and already he wanted to go back home, get rid of the notes and get back in bed before anyone woke up and realized he was gone. Or that he was gone.

But he wouldn’t exactly be gone that way. Not really. He’d still be a part of her universe, and in a way that was oddly comforting. And when the time came, it would be okay again.

If he didn’t do this, then there was a good chance it never would.

He knew what he knew was dangerous. All those memories that came flooding in after his missions with the Snake… he knew too much, or at least he would if he let himself think about it. And how long could anyone really just not think about it, especially when it meant—

He shook his head. If he got too agitated now, he might get Akumatized. Then this would all be for nothing. He had to do this before that could happen, especially with all his close calls over the past few days. The only thing that would work would be to stop thinking, and this was the least horrible option he could find that he would be sure would work.

The bus screeched to a stop with a sound that was somehow way too loud for a noise made late at night. After a moment’s thought, Luka put almost all of the money in his pockets into the driver’s tips. Might as well make one more person smile if he could.

Just one more step to go after this. He took a deep breath, stepped off the bus and quietly walked up to his next destination. Too late to back out now, anyway.

It was a pay phone, one of the only ones he’d ever seen in real life. He fished some change out of his pocket, counted it out and dialed the number.

“Yes, I need the police.” He swallowed. “Because there’s an AWOL unwind nearby. His name is Luka Couffaine.”

A pause. “Blue hair, denim jacket… yes, that’s the street where I am. Please try to get here soon.” He had to get this over with quickly, or he’d think about it too much.

Another pause. “Oh… just someone who’s trying to help. No, I don’t want any reward money.” He hoped the disgust at the offer didn’t make it into his voice. “Right, thank you.”

He hung up.

He walked down the block and sat down at an empty bus stop. He wouldn’t be getting back on the bus— they’d be here before then, anyway, so he wouldn’t really have the option. There was nothing left to do but sit and wait.

It wasn’t such a bad place to be. The stars were out, and he could see them from where he was.

Chapter Text

It was 7:56 in the morning, and Penny was busy as usual. Her boss had a bad habit of making the most eccentric requests right at the busiest possible time. Today it was a drink that was so complicated she was sure he’d made it up as he went along. Half of the ingredients would take a whole day to find, and when it was finally done, she’d brought it to him only to be told it was a treat for Fang, the eight-foot saltwater crocodile. She supposed that did explain the inclusion of frozen caviar in it.

 Penny was wondering if she should just use her vacation days now and leave Jagged to run his own concert when someone started banging on the door to the hotel room.

Her first thought was that the slightly crazy fan from earlier (Vince, wasn’t it?) had somehow managed to get through security again. Penny sighed; she had already caught him rooting through Jagged’s trash twice since they had been in Paris, and she wasn’t particularly eager to chase him off again. But he was usually very quiet until he actually managed to get backstage or wherever he was trying to go. The person on the other side of the door was pounding on it like they were trying to break it down.

Penny tried to convince her boss to call hotel security, but Jagged just smiled and petted his pet crocodile Fang. The man has a pet crocodile, seriously? Who else would put up with his mess? I bet Gabriel Agreste’s personal assistant doesn’t have to put up with anything like this.

Just then, the insistent banging was accompanied by a loud angry voice. 

“Jagged Stone, you open this door right now!”

Penny didn’t recognize the voice right away, but she felt like she should have— the accent was very distinctive and somehow familiar. Almost like (well, more like exactly like) a pirate. Crocodiles, now pirates, great! Add a fairy and it will just be Neverland around here. We even have a man-child who refuses to grow up.

Penny was about to threaten to call security, but to her surprise, Jagged immediately jumped off the couch and ran to the door, Fang trailing behind him like a very weird guard dog.

“Are you out of your mind?” Penny said, desperately trying to stay in front of the door, even though if it broke down now it would probably flatten her. “You can’t let her in! We need to call security!”

He shook his head, and yawned. “Nah, we’re fine. Fang would be growling a lot more now if we were in some type of trouble.” Before Penny could say anything else, Jagged opened the door.

As soon as he opened the door, Penny knew where she’d heard that voice. It had appeared on one of the earlier Jagged Stone albums, well over a decade ago, when Penny herself had been a Jagged-Stone crazed teenager. The album had been a collaboration with another artist. Spyglass Hill, I think? The woman had stopped by a couple of times off and on through the years. Whenever Penny saw her and Jagged together, they always seemed to fight like cats and dogs. Still, he had always said they were old friends.

He grinned at the woman in front of him as if she hadn’t been trying to break down his door ten seconds ago. “Anarka, hey! What’s this all about?”

Anarka Couffaine was furious. She had a fistful of rolled-up papers in one hand, clenched between white knuckles. And the other hand wasn’t in a fist, but quick as lightning, that hand delivered a hard open-palmed smack right across Jagged’s face. I knew I should have called security, Penny thought as she picked up her phone to do just that.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve!” Anarka said angrily, tears streaming down her face.

Penny lowered her voice. “Sir, I really think we should call someone. Now.” Penny’s mind now turned to calling up Jagged’s legal team. Their uninvited guest had just smacked Jagged, and any second Penny was expecting Fang to get loose and bite this crazy woman’s face off. However, to Penny’s surprise, Fang didn’t move a muscle. This is the same little monster who snaps at the mailman and now she’s just sitting here! Penny looked down at Fang, not even a growl. In fact, the crocodile looked almost sympathetic (which she didn’t know crocodiles could do). Something’s going on here. And I don’t like it.

“There’s no need,” Jagged said, obviously more concerned about the emotional state of the woman who just smacked him than the huge red hand print on his face. He looked around the room, hand rubbing his bearded chin. Oh no… he always does that when he’s thinking, and it’s never good when he’s thinking.

After about seven seconds of careful consideration (My God, that must be the most he’s ever thought in about anything in his entire life,) Jagged clipped the leash to his pet crocodile’s spiked collar. “Take Fang for a walk, will you?”

“A walk? Sir, right now I don’t think that’s prudent.” Penny took another look at the woman, Anarka… something with a C. She looked like (and most definitely was) some type of mad thing.

“I’ll be fine, Penny,” Jagged tried to reassure her as he pressed Fang’s leash into her hand. She made sure to keep a tight hold of Fang as Jagged kept trying to maneuver her outside the door. “I’ll pull up security on my phone and call them if things get out of hand.” 

“But I—”

And just like that, Penny ended up standing in the hall with Jagged and Anarka both on the other side of the closed door. She looked down at Fang, who lifted her head and tugged on the leash, indicating that she wanted to go back in. It’s just my day, Penny thought. No matter what her boss said, Penny certainly wasn’t going anywhere. It looked like Fang agreed with her, because she’d situated herself right in front of the door and was growling softly.

If there was any real danger, Penny knew the crocodile wouldn’t hesitate to crash through the door or even the wall. But for now, the two of them just waited. Occasionally Penny could hear shouting from behind the door, but it was hard to make out anything.

“I did what?” That voice was Jagged. Whatever the two were talking about, they were trying to keep quiet, but whatever Anarka Couffaine (Yes, Anarka Couffaine! That’s her name) said had set him off and he sounded absolutely frantic.

That settled it for Penny. She was calling security, crocodile or no crocodile. He didn’t need to be alone that upset with a woman who had just smacked him. Penny dug through her pockets only to discover that she’d left her phone in the room. I could run to get them myself, Penny thought, but when she tried to go Fang growled at her. Well, I guess that answers that. Fang wanted to be on standby and that was that. 

“If you’d ever called—” That sounded like Anarka.

“—any good? I live in hotels with a crocodile! You can’t trust me with a kid—”

“Well, clearly I can’t! You’re a horrible failure of a father, you know that? I don’t know what I ever saw in you!”   

Whatever Jagged said in response was too soft for Penny to catch, but then Anarka said something that she couldn’t make out. After that, Jagged said “…I swear I didn’t do it…” followed by the sound of breaking glass. Fang pawed at the door quietly but didn’t snap or growl.

“Do you expect me to believe that? When did you start handing out autographs? You never give out bloody autographs!” To Penny’s strange amusement, the angrier Anarka got, the more she sounded like a pirate. 

“I don’t know, there was just something about this kid!” Jagged sounded guilty now. “It was like I could tell him anything…”

More crashing, then Anarka screamed like someone had just torn out her guts and then quiet muffled sobbing. Penny tried the doorknob, but the door was locked and she’d left her keycard in the room along with her phone. She gave Fang an impatient glare, but the crocodile still made no move. Some help you are.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Jagged opened the door. Penny stared at him, holding the end of Fang’s leash tightly. He was pale and sweaty, the red handprint mark stood out on his cheek, and he was on the verge of tears. He just stood there for a few moments clutching the papers Anarka brought before clearing his throat.

“Penny?” Penny couldn’t help but look beyond her boss to see the mother of Jagged’s child (!) curled up on the couch clutching a pillow and crying into it.  

She resisted the urge to ask what was wrong. If she asked now, he’d never talk to her. “What is it?”

“Cancel my concert for tonight.”

She blinked. “It’s sold out. We’ve been planning this for months—“

“I don’t care.” She’d never heard him sound so serious before. “Call off the rest of the tour. Just cancel it.”

Now she was really worried. She waited for an explanation, but all he said was, “Family emergency.”

Despite his single and free life that was the subject of last year’s hit single (Penny always hated that song), it appeared that Jagged Stone did indeed have a family. If the tabloids got ahold of this…
 

He stumbled back inside, still in shock. “Anarka, I had no idea…”

She glared at him. “Maybe if you ever visited the twins, you would’ve.”

His eyes went enormous. “I had twins?!”

Anarka glowered at him. “Well, I didn’t see you in labor with them!”

 Fang took the moment to slip her leash and was now crawling up on Anarka’s lap like a dog consoling her master.

Then the door opened again.

“Stone! What do you think you’re doing?” It was Bob Roth, who let himself in without knocking. He ignored the crying woman on the sofa and his normally laid-back and happy client’s grim and sullen look. “You were supposed to be on stage 15 minutes ago! What the Hell is going on?”

“I’m canceling tonight, Bobby, personal issue just came up. I’m really sorry.” Roth was a bit taken aback by Jagged’s candid professionalism. Usually he would have gotten a bunch of vague excuses with the message of “bugger off” sprinkled in somewhere.

“Cancel? Stone, we got a full house out there! We can’t cancel!”

“Yes we can, give everyone a refund. I’ll pay for it if I have to.” Jagged Stone was rich, filthy stinking rich. So was Roth, but the money seemed to matter a lot more to him.

“Stone, do you know how much money we’ll lose? How much money I’ll lose? What about your reputation, your fans?”  

“I’ll pay you back, Bobby,” Jagged snarled. “Look, I’ll explain later. It’ll make sense in a couple of days, but I need some time right now. I’m also canceling my tour.”  

“Cancel the tour?” Bob flipped over the table in the middle of the dressing room, his face as red as a cherry. “You see here, you little piece of trash—!”

Jagged threw his hands up in the air. “For crying out loud, Bobby, I’ll pay you! I’ll give you double what you would have gotten out of this, just leave me alone!”  

You could almost see the dollar signs in Bob’s eyes. “You’ll pay me?” 

“GET OUT!” yelled Anarka, Jagged and Penny at the same time. Fang began to growl.

Bob began to back up through the door slowly.

Jagged sighed. “I don’t know what—”

Bob stepped back through the door, apparently thinking of something else to say. But then Fang took a step closer, looked him right in the eye, opened her mouth and chomped like she was going to bite something… or someone.

Bob gulped. “…Never mind.”

Chapter Text

For the second time, the limousine pulled up to the security gate at Verdon Gorge Harvest Resort with Adrien Agreste in the backseat. As they got closer to the security gate, they were surrounded by a crowd of people. Most of them had signs, some were shouting and there was even a massive homemade banner that said FREE ADRIEN AGRESTE. He recognized Mylene from school and wondered if she could see him through the tinted glass. It was a weird kind of comfort to see so many people who didn’t want him in the commercial any more than he did, but a few of them gave the limo dirty looks that made him wonder if they blamed him. His forehead was pressed against the window for so long that it left a red splotch when Nathalie finally got him to look away.

Gastaut was there as the hotel doors opened, but as soon as he saw Nathalie his eyes widened. “Ms. Sancoeur… h-how nice to see you again.” He took several steps back, rubbing his half-faded black eye.

“Yes, we trust everything goes according to schedule today.” Nathalie’s walking cane, pristine except for a small patch of scuffed paint, tapped along the faux marble floor.

“Yes, I trust—” There was the sound of Gabriel clearing his throat. “Nathalie, the tablet.”

Nathalie finally held up the tablet, which had somehow been tucked under her arm, on low battery and with a low-definition setting. Except for an earlier argument and strictly necessary communication, she hadn’t spoken to her boss in days.

Gabriel nodded. “Thank you. I trust that my instructions have actually been followed this time?”

“I had a good plan—“ Gastaut argued, but Nathalie shot him a look and he cowered. “Yes. Of course.”

“And… Action!”

Adrien looked at the camera and smiled, just like he’d done thousands of times before. It didn’t mean he wanted to be there.

Did I even read the script? He racked his brain for the opening line. I think I got it. “Welcome to—”

The loudest sound he’d ever heard sent a shockwave through the floor. He was flat on his back before he could even register that the floor on the other side of the room wasn’t there anymore.

His ears were ringing. He felt Nathalie grab him and drag him closer to her moments before the ceiling over their heads crumbled. It must have been over in seconds, but everything was in slow motion for him.

He heard a loud crunch and then everything went black.

“Clamp.”

Adrien vaguely registered someone talking, but he was too tired to make out what they were saying.

“Another unit of blood?”

“Yes, good call.”

His eyes fluttered open. The sun was so bright. It hurt to look at, and it was too close.

“His heart rate’s climbing. What—”

Adrien gasped and tried to sit up. Half a dozen figures in scrubs and masks were gathered around him, three of which held him down.

“He’s awake!”

“How did this happen?!”

“Get him back under, now!”

They can’t be unwinding me… not yet… Adrien struggled to get the words out, but it was hard to talk. His whole body felt heavy.

One of the masked figures came right to his side. “Adrien, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re in the hospital, but you’re perfectly safe.”

He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. No, not now, please, not yet… His head swam, and he struggled to remember what happened before he was here.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” The nurse was trying to block his view of something. “You’re going to get through this, and we’ll have you home in no time.”

It finally registered in Adrien’s groggy mind. He looked up at her with wide eyes. “I can go home?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She brushed the hair back from his forehead. “Just go back to sleep. We’ll be all done when you wake up.”

Before the anesthesia took him back under, Adrien felt an overwhelming wave of relief. He was going to be whole, even just a little longer.

For the first time in years, Gabriel Agreste was sighted in person outside his house. The instant the connection to his tablet was lost, he’d called Nathalie. Having no response, he tried Adrien’s bodyguard, whose phone was answered by a paramedic. As soon as Gabriel was told what happened, he left his own house for the first time in years and drove himself to the hospital.

He didn’t even remember the trip. Adrien, his Adrien, the child of his and Emilie’s love was gone. He had to be— there was no way anyone could survive a clapper attack from so close. My little boy is dead. My son.

Isn’t that more or less what would have happened anyway? That little voice in the back of his mind was the only thing he could hear clearly. Since taking up the Butterfly, he had been focused on the Miraculous more and more until he was more Hawkmoth than Gabriel Agreste. Now that his phone only buzzed for news updates and the occasional police alert, Gabriel was a powerless civilian for the first time in months.

Forget the phone. Without the boy, how are you going to save Emilie?

“Oh God, what would Emilie think?” The thought hit Gabriel so suddenly that he didn’t even notice he was entering a roundabout. Luckily for him (if less so for Paris), he slammed the brakes right before another car would have hit him head-on. He didn’t care that he was almost killed; adrenaline felt better than grief. “If Emilie knew Adrien was at a Harvest Camp giving a speech, and attacked by clappers because of it…” 

She won’t know, because she can’t survive without Adrien’s parts!

Gabriel made a turn without slowing down. So what if I get a ticket? I’m Gabriel Agreste. A few phone calls, a few threats or bribes, and my record is clean. I can have anything except what I want.

The thought echoed in his mind. What if I got the Wish, but I could only save one of them? The answer should have been obvious. He’d decided a long time ago.

“Is this all Adrien is to me?” He needed to hear his voice out loud, because otherwise he would only hear his thoughts. If this was the way he talked to Adrien, he didn’t very much like it. What would Emilie think? That was the question he was asking, now that his little deal with the devil was off the table. What would Emilie think if he traded Adrien for her? He didn’t like the answer he knew was the truth, so he instead focused on his grief. My boy, my boy, my boy... The last thing I said to him was an order he hated.

Gabriel didn’t want to go into the hospital. There was really no point. He was going to go through those doors and some higher-up doctor or official would tell him in the nicest, most gentle way possible that Adrien Agreste was in the hospital morgue. They would tell him to follow them down and he would have to see the mangled and mutilated body of his son. If there’s anything left, Gabriel thought. Oh dear God, please let there be no one from the press. Where’s Nathalie when I need her?

He didn’t want to think about the answer.

After standing in the entrance to the hospital for a long time, ignoring questions from stunned and whispering onlookers, he didn’t make a movement until his phone rang.

Gabriel's heart skipped a beat. Emilie, the caller ID read in big white letters. Before even thinking about it, Gabriel picked up and heard the voice coming through the phone.

“Gabriel, thank goodness!  This is the tenth time I’ve tried to call!”

It was her. There was no mistaking his beloved’s voice. “Emilie!” Gabriel gasped, “Thank God! Keep talking, let me listen to your beautiful voice so I can pull myself out of this nightmare!” 

But instead, silence came from the other end, awful, dreadful awkward silence.  Gabriel knew then that he had finally snapped. All the times Nathalie warned him to take a vacation or slow down were finally coming to bite him. He was having a mental breakdown right on the hospital’s front steps. Maybe out of habit he had called Emilie’s phone (which he still kept in his desk and sometimes went through) and imagined her voice.

He was about to hang up and check into the hospital’s psychiatric wing when the voice on the other end finally responded. “Gabriel, I’m Amélie. Emilie, your wife, was my sister.”

Gabriel went seven different shades of red and looked down at his phone. The caller ID indeed read Amélie. “Oh…” Gabriel said flatly, somehow more weary than when he’d thought he’d been talking to himself. His wife was never coming back, his personal assistant who he had come to know and care for as his closest friend was dead, and worst of all his son was dead. Everything is broken, and it’s all my fault.

“My apologies, Amélie. I trust you’ve seen the news?” There was a cruel snarl in his voice. Usually Amélie would have bitten back, but her voice was like a melody again. “Everyone has seen the news! I just got off with the hospital. Adrien is alive, and your assistant and bodyguard will be okay too.”

All at once it felt like a huge loadstone being lifted off of Gabriel’s chest. He didn’t much like his wife’s twin on most days, but today she was an angel. (Never mind that his connections with certain circles were a bit less secret than he’d thought; even Adrien didn’t know his bodyguard’s history in the Mob.)

“Gabriel? Do you want to talk?”

Gabriel was taken aback. “Talk? Talk about what? Everything is fine now, my son and employees are safe. Nothing is wrong…”

“Look, Gabriel…” He heard her take a deep breath. “I know you miss your wife. I miss my sister. I don’t think keeping this distance is doing either of us any good.”

Gabriel exhaled loudly on his side of the line. Amélie thought that it was Gabriel thinking back on all the times she tried to change his mind about tithing Adrien, but really all Gabriel could think was I almost took this lovely woman’s sister away from her again today.

“I’m sorry, Amélie. You’re right. I shouldn’t be so cold when you come to visit. I just feel… so alone.”

“You have Nathalie,” Amélie said, feeling like a jerk for not saying you have me.

Gabriel fought back tears. “I almost lost her today. Same with Adrien.”

“But you didn’t. You still have them both, and me, and Felix.” Amélie said patiently. 

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, and he was actually grateful. Then without even thinking about it, he asked, “How’s Felix?”

“He’s fine,” Amélie said dryly with (more or less) mock scorn in her voice. “No thanks to you, I might add.” He could just see her crossing her arms. “You know you’ve given my little boy a taste for whiskey, not to mention a little crush that’s going to end in heartbreak.”

Gabriel laughed, for two reasons. One, because Amélie sounded just like Emilie when she pretended to be mad at him; And two, when she brought up Felix’s “little crush” he had the strangest epiphany. Why exactly was Adrien out of his tithing whites a few weeks back? And when exactly did Felix start having feelings for a girl who was never in the same social circles as him? Looks like I owe Adrien another apology.

All at once, he wasn’t laughing anymore. “I have to go, Amélie. I’m anxious to see Adrien.” 

Amélie felt for the first time since her twin’s disappearance that her brother-in-law was a man and not a monster. “Of course,” she said softly, then just as he went to hang up, blurted out, “I still don’t think it’s right, you tithing Adrien.” 

There was dead silence for a few seconds. Stupid, Amélie thought. Stupid. She was expecting the return of ice king Gabriel and the end of the call, but instead she heard a slow sigh. “You know what, Amélie, right now I’m starting to agree with you.”

“Really?” Amélie asked him, stunned but hopeful.

“Really.” Gabriel’s voice lowered. “To be perfectly honest, I never truly wanted to give him up, but after what happened today, I’m not certain I could… even for Emilie.” 

“You know she wouldn’t want it,” Amélie said quietly.  

“I don’t know what else to do.” Gabriel took a deep breath. “But he needs me, and I need to be there.”

Gabriel arrived in the lobby and was told that Adrien was still in surgery. He’d been severely injured, and it was miraculous that he hadn’t been killed instantly.

So now, Gabriel Agreste, who had enough money and power to do things most people could only envy, sat in a waiting room with his head in his hands. A doctor finally came out and told him that Adrien was now resting comfortably— a nice way of saying he was too sedated to be in pain. After being prepared on what he might see, Gabriel followed the doctors to his son’s room.

The bodyguard had been knocked unconscious instantly by a piece of rubble. His injuries were minor.

Even though she could barely still stand even with the aid of a cane, Nathalie had rushed forward in pained, staggering steps to shield Adrien from the collapsing ceiling. Gabriel had her airlifted to a specialty hospital in London— her already damaged spine was past the point of repair, but he would make sure she would walk again. It was the least he could do for her.

But Adrien…

Adrien lay in the bed, looking very small and pale. Tubes led in and out of his skin, a monitor beeped slowly, and his chest rose and fell almost too regularly. There was a bandage on his cheek, and thicker ones wrapping both arms. Gabriel remembered what the doctors told him— Adrien had been given new hands. He had lost one of his own, and the other was beyond repair.

Tears obscured Gabriel’s vision as he gingerly sat down on the bed, holding Adrien to his chest as if the boy would disappear if he let him go.

He’d almost lost his son today, and with him, any hope of saving Emilie. If Adrien hadn’t pulled through, he would have lost her forever.

But could he really give Adrien for Emilie? Gabriel watched his son shiver in his sleep and clutched him tighter. He looked so much like his mother when he was asleep. His laugh was Emilie’s, too, but when was the last time Gabriel heard it?

“Sir?”

It took a moment for the voice to register. Gabriel looked up at the doctor in the doorway.

She came closer to the bed. “You can’t hold him like that.” The doctor’s voice was gentle, but firm. “It puts too much pressure on his injuries.”

Gabriel reluctantly set Adrien back onto the bed, his head resting on the clean pillowcase. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

The doctor understood what he was really asking, and she nodded. “He’s young and healthy, and given time and treatment, we can expect a full recovery. He was very lucky.”

Gabriel traced a finger over Adrien’s bandages. “He lost both hands.”

“Yes, but we had a recent donor who was a match for him. The same one who gave him several units of blood.” She said donor, but it was obvious what she really meant. “That boy saved so many lives today, including your son.”

“He wouldn’t be here without…” Gabriel’s voice trailed off. “He’ll really be alright?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes. It doesn’t even have to delay his tithing date.”

Gabriel was ashamed at the flutter of relief he felt at hearing that. He didn’t want to lose Adrien, but if it came down to it, he knew in his heart that he would tithe him for his mother.

But maybe, just maybe, he could find another way. For now, all he wanted was to be with his son.

Chapter Text

“And that’s all for today, class,” Ms. Bustier said brightly, although the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Make sure you get the reading done tonight. Pages 15 through 25.”

All at once, a chorus of chairs being pushed into seats and the sound of dozens of shoes on the floor announced the end of the lesson. A normal end to a normal class, or at least it should have been. However, to Ms. Bustier and her students, it couldn't be. For one thing, the aforementioned chairs and feet were the only sounds in a time usually filled with chatter. For another, there were two chairs that didn’t move, and hadn’t moved all day.

Marinette stopped by one of empty desks, just like everyone else in the class. Piled on the desk were gift baskets, handmade cards and stuffed animals of all different species, along with a giant beautifully decorated piece of construction paper with GET WELL SOON ADRIEN, WE MISS YOU!!! stenciled in big letters. One by one, each kid signed it. Nino, Adrien’s best friend, was the one collecting signatures, and unlike his typical carefree self, he was taking the job very seriously. I never thought I’d see Nino in a suit, Marinette thought as she picked up a red marker to sign. 

She couldn’t help looking over to the other seat that had become empty over the weekend. Mylène, Marinette thought, poor Mylène. Nobody left anything on her desk. They knew there was nobody coming to collect it.

Marinette finished her message (making sure her writing was just a little bigger than Chloe’s). Taking another glance towards where Mylene and Ivan used to sit, she wondered how many others in the class might have done the same. A glance at a time when they thought no one was watching, maybe? None of them would risk being caught looking at Mylene’s desk because of the “special visitor” auditing the class.

Officer Gaston Danard, inspector of the juvenile authority, had been in the room for the entire day, and nearly everyone was petrified to put a hair out of line. He wasn’t the only juvie-cop, either; they were in every class and at least five patrolled the hallways in between classes. You couldn’t get away from them. When Marinette was at her locker, she saw one of them fussing at some boy a couple of years younger than her. No one liked the Juvies here. They made the kids nervous, like any wrong sneeze could get them on a one way ticket to a harvest camp. Most of the teachers were tired of this, too. Even Mrs. Mendeleiev, the chemistry teacher who liked to throw around the threat of unwinding, was sick of them. Her students were too nervous to get anything done.

“If only Ladybug were here,” Marinette said into the tiny mirror that was in her locker.

“Think she’d be any help?”

The voice behind Marinette made her jump. She was almost sure by now that Alya knew. 

“Alya,” Marinette said nervously, “I haven’t heard from you in a while. What have you been doing?” 

Alya’s eyes narrowed. They were red and puffy, just like most of the class, and Marinette realized with a pang that she hadn’t noticed the stitches on her cheek until now. “Oh, nothing much,” she said dryly. “Journaling, blogging, babysitting, watching one of our classmates get blown up while another one is forced to have his organs harvested. What about you? Still trying to keep your head down?”

Anyone else wouldn’t have known Alya well enough to realize the edge in her voice wasn’t bitterness— it was exhaustion.

Marinette shut the locker and took another look. Alya’s glasses had new frames, and she had concealer over what had to be a black eye. Her stomach twisted. “Alya, you didn’t.”

“I had to.” There was that tiredness again. “None of the major news networks would cover the protest. I had to give it some visibility.” It was the same look Marinette recognized in the mirror after her worst days in the field. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” Or that you got hurt, her mind added. When did they stop telling each other almost everything?

“Just part of the job.” Alya took a selfie, checked her eye and deleted the photo. “You understand.”

“It doesn’t have to be your job! Alya, please take a break from the blog What if someone saw you there?” No wonder I took your Miraculous away... You can’t leave anything alone.

“It shouldn’t have been dangerous at all. It was supposed to be a peaceful protest, until someone attacked the crowd!” Alya intentionally said the last part loud enough for the other kids to hear her. She rubbed her eye again. “Something’s really wrong here. Marinette. Nobody I interviewed for the blog was suspicious. I don’t think Verdon Gorge was the real target. This points to an attack on the protesters, but nobody will even consider that!”

Now that Marinette dared to think about it, it actually didn’t sound too far-fetched. Still, the fact that Alya was saying stuff like that out loud made Marinette very worried. I need to walk her home. Let her say these things away from people. The part of her that knew a setup was possible had a million questions to ask, but the one that finally came out was (to Marinette) the most important one. “Are you going to be okay?”

Alya actually cracked a smile. “Girl. It’s just three stitches and a bruise. I’ll be back out there in no time.” Her smile almost put Marinette at ease until the words clicked.

“You’re not actually going to— something like that again?”

“Of course I am.” Alya squeezed her hand. “Nobody could have predicted this except for whoever set this up. I have to investigate, and that probably means—“

“No, you can’t!” It was harder to breathe, and suddenly Alya was holding her up. “Please don’t… the blog can wait…”

“It’s bigger than the Ladyblog now, Marinette.” There was no stopping her, not now.

“Ladyblog, hm?”

A deep, gruff voice and a heavy hand on Alya’s shoulder made the dizzying pressure on Marinette’s chest triple. Two of the juvies were now behind Alya, blocking off possible routes of escape.

One of them looked Alya up and down. Marinette realized she was sitting on the floor now, but it didn’t matter. All her fear was for her best friend.

“You’re Alya Cesaire, right?”

There was no point in lying, not when a quick look at school records would prove it anyway. Alya stood as straight as she could, looking right at the man who towered over her. “Yes, I am.”

“Follow us, kid.” The other one stepped between Marinette and Alya, blocking their view of each other. It wasn’t a question.” We’ve got a few questions about something you wrote on that blog of yours.”

Marinette could barely breathe.

Alya didn’t resist at all. She walked with her head held high as she was led down the hall and out of sight. By the time Marinette had enough control over her breathing to stand up again, they were gone. Oh, please let it be to the front office instead of a Harvest Camp. Marinette stumbled through the door of the nearest bathroom and huddled on the floor under the sink.

I just killed my best friend... or maybe even worse… Her talk with Chat after Pharaoh forced its way back into her mind, and a wave of nausea hit. Why didn’t I say something? Why couldn’t I get any words out? Am I really that much of a coward?

A pair of sneakers stopped in front of the sink. Marinette noticed the brand and for a moment she let herself hope. “A-Alya?”

“Thought that was you.” The voice belonged to a girl Alya’s age, but not a friend. Lila pulled Marinette up by the hand, not giving her a chance to say no. “I’m just as worried as you are. Alya and I are best friends, and—“

“Please stop.” Marinette splashed some cold water on her face. “Just… stop. Not now, Lila, okay?”

“Why not?” Lila’s expression was so genuine that for a moment, Marinette was even second-guessing her own thoughts. “I’m just as worried as you are. Honestly.” She shook her head, getting some soap and holding her hands under the faucet. “It’s not your fault if you don’t know your friends as well as you think you do. Take shy little Mylène. Who would have guessed she’d turn out to be a clapper?”

“You don’t know it was her.” Marinette’s voice was hoarse, as if the words wouldn’t come out.

“Of course I don’t.” Lila finished washing her hands, tracking Marinette’s expression in the bathroom mirror the entire time. “Just like I didn’t know she snuck out that night to go down there. We never can know what our own classmates are capable of.”

Lila was so casual about it that Marinette felt sick. “There’s no way she would’ve ever done that.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lila said as she dried her hands off with a paper towel, her voice low. “It doesn’t matter if she actually did or not. Either way, she can’t prove otherwise now. Nobody can.”

The color drained from Marinette’s face. Up until now, Lila had been a nuisance and a bit of a bully. And definitely a liar. In that moment, though, all the stories about tinnitus or sprained wrists or meeting celebrities on private jets didn’t matter. “Lila… what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Ignoring (if not enjoying) Marinette’s horror, Lila tossed the paper towel into the trash. “Look, Marinette, I think we should be friends. Let’s put all this behind us, alright?”

“All what? What did you say?” Her throat was so tight it was amazing that Lila could hear her.

“All I did was tell those nice officers what they wanted to hear, just like everyone else in this school.”

“Yes. It’s called lying.”

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Marinette saw Lila’s smile drop. Without another word, she turned and advanced on her. “Alright, look. You seem a little less dumb than everyone else around here, so I’m going to give you one more warning.”

She shoved Marinette up against the wall, almost in her ear. “I. Didn’t. Do. Anything. Just like I didn’t do anything when Mylène decided to go blow herself up, or when the Kubdel girl went crazy and got the cops called on her.”

Marinette could hear her heartbeat in her ears. “That was you?”

Lila smirked. “If anything, it was a public service. I got what I wanted, that little delinquent got taken off the streets; everybody wins.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And if you say anything to those juvies or anyone else that makes me look involved, I will ruin your life. You’ll have no friends left, and if that’s not enough you’ll be spending next semester at a harvest camp.” 

A chill ran down Marinette’s spine at what Lila was saying. “Why are you doing this?”

Lila’s grip tightened. “You have one more chance. Stay out of my way, or someone else makes a lifesaving donation.” She smirked. “Who knows? Maybe if business is bad for your parents, they’ll have to cut costs somewhere.”

As suddenly as she’d advanced, Lila dropped Marinette and took several steps back. “Now why don’t you splash some cold water on your face and take a few minutes to yourself?” Her voice dripped with concern that sounded almost real. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen while you’re so worked up.”

She left, pulling the door to the bathroom shut behind her. Marinette sat shaken on the floor for a few moments, then picked herself up and sat on a toilet in an empty stall. At least there she had privacy.

Once Marinette locked the stall door and sat down, she finally registered Tikki’s voice.

“I don’t much care for her very much, Marinette.”

Marinette laughed a little though her tears. “Me neither, Tikki.” She wiped her face and sniffled “I don’t understand… why would Lila do something like this? Why would anyone? Even Chloe isn’t that evil…” She shook her head. “What are we going to do?” 

“Deep breaths, just like we practiced,” Tikki gently reminded her. “I don’t know what we’re going to do yet, but you always find a way.”

“What if I can’t this time?”

“You will,” Tikki insisted with a confidence that made Marinette’s thoughts stop racing for a moment. “But you don’t need to confront her again today.”

“What if she hurts someone else?”

“Lila’s too smart to do anything major as long as the building is full of police.” Tikki flew into Marinette’s purse and handed her a tissue. “Right now, you need to go home and get some rest. To help Alya and the others, you need to think things out and plan.”

Marinette’s phone buzzed with a text from Alya. They let my parents take me home. You okay?

As long as you are, replied Marinette. It was going to be a long battle, but she wasn’t about to fight it alone. Can we meet up later? I have something important to tell you.

She took a deep breath and typed out one more text. Can you keep a secret?

Chapter Text

For the first time in days, Adrien opened his eyes and saw his bedroom ceiling. He had been on so many painkillers when he was bundled into the limo for the ride home that he hadn’t been sure if it was real. (Or if he was really alive, for that matter.) 

His wrists hurt. He held his hands up in front of his face, giving his fingers an experimental twitch. As soon as he was awake enough to understand, a nurse explained very gently that he’d lost both of his hands and had been given new ones from an unwind. They still didn’t feel like part of him. Would they ever?

In his waking haze (was it just getting up or the meds? Or both?), it took him a few minutes to realize what else he was missing. Forcing himself to his feet, he grabbed the plastic bag from the hospital off his desk and dumped it out on the bed.

Gritting his teeth through the pain, he picked through the contents and shook everything out. It contained: his jacket (which was so torn up that he was sure they would have thrown it out had it not been such an expensive brand), his phone (cracked so badly he couldn’t believe it actually still turned on), his shoes (which somehow hadn’t been damaged too terribly, but he probably still wouldn’t wear again) and a smaller, paper bag just the right size for a ring.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien shook open the paper bag and put on the ring. He instantly felt like screaming. He felt like it, thought about it, but didn’t do it. As far as he knew, everyone thought he was still asleep. He wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. They kept a close eye on me before all of this. Now… Adrien didn’t want to think about it. I’ll worry about now later. He almost laughed to himself. I think I’m still high as a kite.

Trying to focus on the task at hand, Adrien tried to slip on the ring. It felt clumsy and wrong, like he’d never worn jewelry in his life and was just learning how it was supposed to work. Was it just the meds, or was it something else? It took several minutes of struggling before he managed to put on the ring.

”KID!”

A small black blur slammed into the side of his face in Plagg’s version of a hug. “Don’t ever do that again!”

“Plagg, I— OW — Plagg, you’re on my wounds!” Adrien said as he gently pushed the cat kwami off his face, both hands still shaking.

“Sorry about that,” Plagg said, examining the scrapes and giving them a careful sniff. “But you’re tough, kid. You’ll bounce right back.”

Adrien had been Plagg’s holder long enough to know when he didn’t want to admit something. The switching tail and flicked-back ears as he “washed” Adrien’s hair (already cleaned and combed by a nurse the night before his discharge) gave him away.

“I’m going to be okay, Plagg.”

Plagg was unconvinced as he continued to lick Adrien even harder, like a mother cat cleaning her kitten. His sandpaper tongue stung quite a bit, but Adrien didn’t complain. 

“They said I actually did really well, after—” he flinched, remembering the moment in the operating room. “Well, after they got me through surgery. I’m going to be fine.”

“You better be.” Plagg licked another strand of hair until it was plastered to Adrien’s forehead. “I’m not sure those people know what they’re doing. Your dinner was barely edible! If you’re out of the picture, who’s going to get my Camembert?”

In spite of his aching wrists and foggy mind, Adrien smiled. He’d missed wearing his ring. Having the power to be Chat Noir at will was a comforting sense of control and freedom after spending so long in a drugged-up, heavily supervised haze. However, he knew if Nathalie (or God forbid, his father) caught him slipping up, it was over. He  sighed, put the ring in his pocket, put everything else back in the bag and left his room.

Plagg knew his holder all too well— he was hungry.

Adrien’s steps were still shaky, but little by little he made his way down the massive hall. He  wished he lived in a smaller house— it was a long way to walk after being stuck in bed for days. When he finally reached the kitchen, he’d never been prouder of himself for anything. A dozen thoughts ran through his head. How’s Nino?How do I let Milady know I’m back? Has she been worried? I didn’t leave her to fight alone, did I? Am I going to try to run out on being a tithe?

However, as he entered the kitchen, all these questions disappeared and he was left in a state of utter shock.

“Oh, you’re up. Good to see you’re feeling better.”

Adrien couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

His father, Gabriel Agreste, was in the kitchen. No appointments, no excuse, no waiting for him all day. He was actually right here.

And he was cooking.

“I thought we’d eat breakfast together this morning.” His father turned around, the long apron he was wearing somehow fitting him just like custom tailoring. “To celebrate.” Gabriel’s attempt at a warm smile came off to Adrien as a grimace, but Adrien was happy for the attempt all the same. “You can have a seat at the counter.”

Still stunned, Adrien cautiously sat down. “Are you feeling alright, Father?”

His father immediately overturned the pan and dropped a pancake onto the plate in front of him. “Never better.”

The same could not be said for the pancakes. They were tasteless and bland, with lumps of dry flour here and there from where the batter hadn’t been mixed in properly. But Adrien had never been happier at any breakfast, and he ate the entire pancake along with the next two that were added to his plate.

“Alright, Adrien. The  morning schedule is—” Nathalie nearly dropped her tablet as she entered the kitchen. All of the times she tried to make Gabriel leave his lair and spend time with Adrien, and only after a failed assassination was he willing to do it? She was about to say something sarcastic, but made herself smile once she saw how happy Adrien looked. “I didn’t know you were joining us for breakfast today, Mr. Agreste.”

He smiled at her. “Call me Gabriel.”

How about Gabe while we’re at it? Nathalie thought as she rolled her eyes. Gabriel saw it and gave her a hurt look. Luckily, though, Adrien hadn’t picked it up and happily added more syrup to his plate. 

Gabriel smiled. “Come join us, Nathalie. I thought we could eat together.”

Adrien looked up from his plate. “Like… a family.” Nathalie felt like she was going to hit Gabriel. 

Nathalie pulled up a chair next to Adrien. As she sat down, she noticed the stare Adrien gave the banana slice embedded in his pancake as he poked it with his fork. She shot her boss a look. “Gabriel, if you spent more time with your son, you would've known he prefers his pancakes plain.” Not to mention that from the look of the fruit, he’d entirely forgotten to peel it first.

Adrien actually flinched, as if he was in trouble. “It’s alright. I’ll still eat them.”

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at his son. “Adrien, if you didn't want bananas, you could've told me.”

Adrien vigorously shook his head. “No, no, I... I like them. I was just thinking… about school…”

He flinched at his own mention of returning to school and quickly took another bite of the pancakes. Taking one glance at his father told him that after almost getting blown up, there was no way Adrien would be going back to school. But before Gabriel could say anything, Nathalie intervened.

“Adrien, don't force yourself to eat them to please your father.” Nathalie gave Gabriel a look, and he shot a look back. It was clear to Adrien that after breakfast, there was going to be a conversation, a long, deep conversation about him. And like every big important conversation about him, he was not invited.

His father stifled a sigh. “Nathalie, leave Adrien to his pancakes and let me know how you want yours instead.”

“Plain,” Nathalie said, deadpan. She would have left had it only been her boss in the kitchen. But for Adrien, she would even eat Gabriel’s cooking. 

Adrien was braced for a long, quiet, awkward breakfast, but he soon found himself happily  proven wrong. Despite how bad the pancakes were, the mood stayed light from there (and the pancakes weren’t too bad once he added enough maple syrup).  Nathalie told a few jokes, most of them funny, and everyone was laughing as they ate.

Adrien finished first, but kept rubbing his wrists. Nathalie gently adjusted his bandages for him and noticed how tired he still looked. She’d felt the same after her spine transplant surgery in London.

Nathalie smoothed back the edge of Adrien’s loose bandage and retied the ends so the knot didn’t rub against his stitches. “Why don’t you take your medicine and then go lie down, Adrien? Your friends left a care package. Why don’t you go look through it.” It was gentle, but it was not a question.

 Adrien looked at his father and hesitated, trying to read the situation. “I wanted to spend time with you…”

“We’ll be here whenever you wake up. For now, you need your rest.” Nathalie said smiling. Gabriel nodded and put his arm around her.

Ever since Adrien had lost his mother, Nathalie had taken care of him. She had a way of knowing what he needed, sometimes even before he knew himself. She was giving him a look to let her handle this, and he knew she would. If Nathalie said it was okay to go back to sleep, then he could.

Adrien finished off his glass of milk, took two of the pills from the bottle on the counter, and then left the kitchen. As he did, he took one last look at the happy scene in the kitchen before turning the corner.

The moment Adrien was gone, Nathalie shoved Gabriel off her shoulder, then pinned him to the counter with his arm held tightly behind his back. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at him, careful to keep her voice low in case the poor boy was still in earshot.

Gabriel weakly struggled against her. “Nathalie— I don’t—”

Her grip tightened. “I came to this house to hunt magical artifacts for you and Emilie. I became your bodyguard, your right-hand woman, your friend, and even more. I gave you everything I had to give. But this is going to stop. You’re not keeping Adrien from going back to school.”

“I almost lost him,” Gabriel said tiredly, freeing himself from her grip. “I need to protect him. For Emilie.”

“This isn’t what she would want.” Nathalie’s voice never wavered, even as her hands shook. “Keeping him locked up like a prisoner so you can harvest his organs! Do you know what that’ll do to Emilie if she wakes up with his parts grafted into her?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “I didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Nathalie said, wary but no longer furious. The anger had been driven out of her by the earnestness of Gabriel’s question. 

“I had some time to think on the way to the hospital while you were… indisposed…” He took a deep breath. “When Adrien… got hurt… I started thinking, Nathalie. Thinking about how horrible it would be to not have you, or him. I started wondering if…” He took a deep breath. “If I could really give him up.”

Nathalie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” Gabriel said weakly, leaning on the counter.

 “Oh, Gabriel, I’m so proud!” Nathalie had been about ready to slap her boss, but now she could have hugged him.

But before she could tell him how relieved she was, Gabriel held up a hand. “I’m still thinking it over. I can’t give up on Emilie so easily. For now, I’m not even taking Adrien out of his tithing whites.”  

“But you are thinking about it.”

“That’s right,” Gabriel confirmed. “Over the next few months, I will be redoubling my efforts to get the Miraculous. I expect the same from you.” 

“I’m with you all the way, sir,” Nathalie agreed cautiously. She was under no illusions about a full change of heart. On one hand, Gabriel even admitted his doubts about tithing Adrien meant that he was seriously reconsidering the plan. On the other, it looked like nothing had changed.

 As Nathalie took the dirty dishes to the sink, Gabriel kept talking. “And if I have to tithe him… I’ll make the next few months the best he could have. I’ll be his father and keep him safe. He’ll have whatever his heart desires.” His voice faltered slightly, as if it hurt to tell anyone what he was thinking.

“You know you shouldn’t do it,” Nathalie said, taking the last dishes from the morning’s breakfast. “If you go through with this, Emilie will never forgive you.”

“I don’t need her forgiveness, Nathalie.” He looked straight up into her eyes. “I just need her to live.”

Chapter Text

Three Weeks Ago

As Kagami watched her mother leave the hotel, she sighed and tapped her fingers against the window pane. Why now? Why couldn’t we just stay in Paris for a few more weeks?

As much as Kagami wanted to ask, she knew it was futile (and in the more conditioned part of her mind, it felt a little selfish), but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to go home yet.

 Just as she was about to go read to get her mind off of everything, there was a tap on the window.

Most people would have been alarmed to hear a sudden knock on their window at night, let alone in a third-story room. Kagami knew that her mother would be, especially if she knew just who was at her window. But Kagami herself wasn’t scared, just annoyed. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she slid off the bed, unlatched the window and slid it halfway open. 

“You know people can see you,” Kagami said, deadpan. 

Felix laughed, squeezing in through the window. It was a tighter fit than he expected; This growth spurt is getting to be a major pain in the ass. “Not on the security cameras they can’t. There’s a blind spot in the corner, and then you can get up diagonally if you’re careful.”

“You’re insane,” Kagami scolded, helping him inside. “Do you know that?” She didn’t let go of his hand even after he was back on solid ground.

“You’re going back to Japan soon, aren’t you?” Felix asked. Both of them knew it really wasn’t a question. 

Nodding, Kagami said, “My mother’s plane leaves first thing in the morning. I have an appointment at the finest harvest facility in the country a week from when the plane hits the ground.” 

 Kagami was expecting a very different reaction than what she got from Felix. She almost popped him one as he lit up in a schoolboy grin. Kagami scowled, but then Felix quickly spoke up and it made much more sense. “I have something to ask you, right here, right now!”

“What is it?” Kagami asked, knowing full well what Felix was going to ask of her. She usually would have gone straight to the point and said she knew what he was going to say, but Felix enjoyed his theatrics so much. She didn’t want to ruin it for him.

Kagami must have played her part well, because Felix didn’t notice a thing as he grinned and pulled something small out of his pocket. It was a shimmery blue brooch, which he pinned to his shirt. Kagami sat on the edge of the hotel bed and watched— Felix’s showmanship with his plans and schemes would always be interesting. 

“What if…” He paused for a moment, barely containing his own excitement. “You didn’t go back?” Kagami could tell from one glance at the brooch that it was the real deal, even if there were some condition issues. Real gold, lapis lazuli and sapphire, she noticed, and it was then that she noticed the black long-sleeve shirt was an expensive name-brand too. Fine jewelry and Agreste-brand clothes? He made a huge effort for this.

Kagami wondered if his rich cousin took him shopping before he went and played Romeo, but she decided that she wasn’t going to ask. And besides, Felix has never flaunted his family’s wealth before, so why is he doing this now? I hope the idiot hasn’t stolen his outfit for the night and now thinks that he’s too smart to get caught. She raised her eyebrows and sighed. I need to ask. “What are you proposing?”

“We run away, Kagami.” He held both her hands, dropping his voice down to almost a whisper. “Nobody to control us. Nothing would have any power over us. We’d be free.”

I take it back, Kagami thought. What I needed to ask was, “Are you proposing?” This had better not be why he’s wearing rings on both hands. “Felix, are you serious?”

His smile dropped— he seemed to have expected her to be more excited. “You can’t go back with her, Kagami. She treats you like… like she owns you. Like you’re her property.”

“Intellectual property,” Kagami corrected matter-of-factly. “I’m the most advanced project of her career. If anything happened to me, it would be set her career back enormously. So of course she cares for me.”

Felix shook his head. “But not like a parent, though. You’re a toy or a car. Sparkly and brand new when you’re out of the package, only to be replaced when the new one comes out the next year.”

“At least I know my value,” Kagami said, more harshly than she meant it. “She’ll be able to advance medical science through my donation.”

Felix couldn’t stand it any longer. All the tithe brainwashing that these kids go through to make them want to go to places only whispered by kids when they thought no one was listening… “Kagami, your mother is a complete b-“ 

“Don’t you dare talk about her that way!” Kagami cut him off angrily, clenching her fists.

“Well, it’s true and you know it!” Felix shouted back. “A Mom’s supposed to love her kids and take care of them, not feed them into a Harvest Camp! No matter what any law says…” His voice cracked. “…taking your child’s life away is monstrous.” 

That stupid boy, Kagami thought, that damn stupid boy. Why? Why does he have to be so… so… so… right…

In an instant, the dam in her mind built from all the years of grooming, isolation, emotional abuse and neglect finally broke. She had been thinking what Felix was saying for years, even if it was only in the back of her mind, and now that someone had finally spoken these thoughts back at her she acknowledged them. For the first time that Kagami could remember since she was very small, she began to cry.

Felix was sly and sneaky and solitary. He could plan for nearly anything, but for all his cleverness, he had no idea what to do when it came to emotions. So, with Herculean effort, he reached a hand to stroke Kagami’s back. “Hey now, shh, it’s okay.” His face was bright red. She’s not your horse in Red Dead Redemption, you idiot. Gingerly, he pulled Kagami into an embrace and let her lean her head on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything. He just decided to let her cry it out.

“I’m nothing while I’m whole,” Kagami finally said quietly, still holding onto Felix. “Everyone else is born with dreams and visions and all I was ever here to be is spare parts.”

“Kagami, you’re not just spare parts. You’re you.” Felix said. “That’s the important part. That you know you’re you and you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever meet. And you deserve better. Please come with me.”

“Felix…” Kagami took his hand again, still sniffling, and smiled at him. “I’m not going with you.

“But—”

“Let me tell you the rest,” she explained, drying her eyes on a hotel pillowcase. “I’m not going with you, because I’m going alone.”

Felix’s eyes shone with a mixture of admiration and amazement as Kagami opened her suitcase and pulled out her fencing bag. By the look of it, she had it packed with all the essentials she could easily carry, along with the live rapier she’d chased him down with back when they first met. “I need some time to think. About… everything.”

She held up a hand. “I’m not saying I won’t come back at the end of it. But I’m also not saying I will. This is all I’ve ever known. And although I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while, I can’t just yet. My mother, her company… they’re planning things, Felix, and they’re going to be huge. I need to find out what they are, because that’s the only way I can stop them.”

You’re so cool… As composed as he usually was, Felix could have melted. But instead, he smiled at her as he started to climb back out of the window. “I’ve got a place downtown if you get tired of the sewer system.” He grinned at her, leaning halfway through the window with his feet on a ledge. “You know how to find me.”

“And I assume the authorities don’t?” Kagami shot back.

Felix gave her a cheeky grin. “Nope.”

Chapter Text

It was technically a school day, but Marinette was at home today. Because of the investigation, nobody except Principal Damocles, a handful of teachers and the juvies were at school today. According to Alya (How did she find this stuff out, sneak into school and hide out in a locker? Or maybe hack one of the security cameras?), the juvies had found what they were looking for. A press release would probably come out the following Monday or Tuesday, and for some reason, Marinette cared very little about what they were going to say. She just wanted them to leave her friends alone. 

Marinette had actually been out for two days. Her parents decided to keep her at home even before the closure was announced. There were other reasons for her to be so stressed, too, but nobody knew the whole truth behind those. It would be good to see Chat Noir again and talk to him about it— despite all the fear and anger in the city since the attack, there hadn’t been a single Akuma. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed— a fight would have been a welcome distraction and a reason to see her Kitty, but she wasn’t sure she could even handle it. Besides, now she had another secret that she couldn’t share with him, and the guilt from this one was eating her alive.

As her mind lingered on Chat Noir (and Adrien, for some reason), she dropped a glass and cursed herself. Her parents were insistent that she get some rest, and she had just proven them right, but all the TV was showing was news coverage of the clapper attack and she needed to distract herself. Helping in the bakery today was a way to keep herself from thinking about everything. So far, she’d restocked the pastry cases, cleaned all the dirty dishes, scoured the floors until they were so smooth that they were a tripping hazard and rearranged the display boxes ten times.

Her parents were out for the afternoon to check on a family friend, and she was all alone manning the front counter while the bakery was supposed to be closed for the day. Tikki would have been with her if it weren’t for the raspberry truffle incident— after that little fiasco, she wasn’t allowed in the bakery or kitchen during business hours.

Probably because the bakery was officially closed, it was a slow day. There was nobody to talk to Marinette, and she was fine with that. She would be fine as long as there was more work to do.

But as Marinette finished lining up rows of brightly-colored macarons in a pattern for the display, the bell rang for the door.

Right, right, a customer. Smile. She stood up, wondering if she’d washed her face well enough after she’d cried again this morning. Either way, I must look like a train wreck… For the first time that day, she gave a second thought to her outfit— old overalls splattered in soapy water, with her hair pinned up to keep it out of the food. It wouldn’t help anyone if she drove a customer away, and now it was too late to change. “How can I help you?”

Looking at the customer, she felt as if her heart was about to jump out of her chest. She knew this girl, with marker drawings on her sneakers that matched the tattooed pattern on her arm.

“Hi!” The other girl smiled, a little nervously. “I’m just here for a snack.” She seemed a little hesitant, glancing back over her shoulder. “What is pleasant here?”

“Everything.” Marinette managed to actually smile, handing her a piece of strawberry macaron shell from a sample plate. Normally her parents didn’t set up free samples. However, after a batch came out too misshapen to sell, Marinette had the idea to use them as free samples.

“Whoa, that’s so good!” her customer blurted out in English, so delighted with the flavor that it took her a moment to remember which language she was trying to practice. “Are they all different flavor? Which are the green ones?” As clear as it was that she was still trying to get a grip on French grammar, her smile didn’t need any translation.

A tourist. I can do this. It was less pressure to help tourists. Even if she did mess up, it wouldn’t cost the bakery any business in the long run. Ignoring the slight butchering of her beautiful language, she explained, “That’s matcha green tea, and the lighter ones with chocolate filling are mint.”

The girl was friendly, but for whatever reason, Marinette felt uneasy. It’s like I know you and I’m not supposed to yet. She pushed it to the back of her mind. She seems perfectly nice. And let’s be real, Marinette, it’s nice to have somebody to talk to who’s about your own age and won’t ask about… everything. “You have a really pretty accent. Where are you from?”

Most visitors were excited to share where they were from, but her customer flinched before pulling her beanie down to hide her face a little. “Oh… I’m American. Here from New York.” She didn’t say anything else, staring down at the display case. (Marinette briefly wondered if she got the display case good enough.)

“Oh, you’re a tourist?” Marinette said, trying to sound like she didn’t have a pounding headache. Why do I know this girl? I didn’t meet her last year on the school trip to New York… did I?

“Um… not really.” She shifted from one foot to the other without looking up. “I’m just… resting with some of mine family in Paris here for a time.” The line didn’t seem as practiced as most of what she’d said so far. It was as if she hadn’t expected to need it.

Marinette thought she seemed sad about the situation, but she knew better than to dig into a customer’s personal life, especially first-time customers. But there was something she could do to hopefully make things at least a little better.

“Here, take this.” Marinette reached across the counter and handed her a box. “There are a dozen macarons in here with different flavors so you can try them all.”

The other girl’s eyes lit up, and she dug in her pocket for her wallet. “How much?”

“Nothing. It’s a welcome gift to Paris.” Marinette knew she’d be paying for the box out of her allowance, but it was worth it to see someone smile like this.

“Thank you so much!” The girl opened the box and popped a raspberry-flavored macaron into her mouth, eating it in one bite like Tikki did sometimes. “My name is Zoé.”

“I’m Marinette.”

Maybe she would see Zoé around. But first, she would take Tikki a treat. It couldn’t be fun waiting in the bedroom by herself all day. Zoé’s happiness is contagious, Marinette thought, suddenly a little more ready to be around people again.

The door closed behind Zoé, and she sighed. Tucking her box of macarons under her arm, she walked out to where an elegant black limo was waiting for her. Why couldn’t I just play a part for a little longer? Hopefully Mom will hear me out... She opened the door and climbed in. 

“Did you have a nice afternoon, Miss Lee?” The chauffeur asked in a clipped English accent that was spoken in prim and proper Queen’s English. (Zoé was relieved to hear it— as much as she wanted to practice her French, it was good to talk to someone she was confident she could understand.)

“Yes,” Zoé said, her sweet smile turning a bit mischievous. “You know, there’s still half a box of macarons in here. If you could find some excuse not to haul me back to the hotel for another hour, I might be tempted to part with them.”

“An intriguing offer, Miss Lee, it truly is.” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, something that usually didn’t happen during work. “However, I do believe what your parents are paying me would allow me to buy my own… ahem, not half-eaten package.” 

Zoé sighed. “Well, it was at least worth a try.”

The limo made its slow, laborious way down the crowded streets of Paris and into the circle of the Grand Paris Hotel. She handed him a chocolate macaron anyway as she got out, and the old man smiled ruefully. “You should keep that, Miss Lee. You need it more than I do.”

“Your loss,” Zoé said playfully (if somewhat halfheartedly), and then immediately hoped she hadn’t sounded rude. But the old man smiled at her and waved as he drove off, which made her feel a little better.

So far, besides Marinette, he’s the only one here who’s been nice to me. Zoé looked up at the magnificent building in front of her and shivered. Well, here goes nothing.

As she made her way through the busy lobby, Zoé was amazed at the flourish of humanity. Paris was not just a French city, after all, but an international one. She heard many languages along with phrases from the little French she knew, and smiled to herself as her ears picked up a voice with the familiar accent of Queens. Home, Zoé thought wispily. However, this moment of wonder was cut short in its tracks as she caught another reminder of something all too familiar. There were four officers in the lobby, all wearing a very similar uniform to the ones she’d seen back home. Just like those well-known officers who were not quite like the regular NYPD, these uniforms— and the cops wearing them— were different than the Paris gendarme.

Juvies, Zoé thought, keeping her head down and hurrying to the elevator as quickly as she could through the crowd. I guess some things never change, even when you get away.

The elevator ride up to the penthouse seemed to take an eternity. All the while, Zoé held tightly onto her duffel bag with the box of macarons tucked tightly under her arm. Why, why, why, why. Why couldn’t I just keep it up and not get sent here? She was under no illusions— her mother was not going to be happy to see her, even though she was the one who decided she was moving to Paris. Maybe if she happened to catch her in one of her rare good moods, she would let her talk. Or even better, everyone would be out for the day and she would have some time alone to think of what to say.

At last the door opened. Taking a deep breath, Zoé stepped out of the elevator, walked to the nearby door and took out her key card. Sliding it in, the fancy door opened with an audible clunk.

In New York, the drinking culture was always more strict than in other places she’d heard classmates brag about visiting on their family vacations. Still, a student from an elite private school could manage to get a taste of wine or beer if she wanted it. Zoé tried drinking once at a party with a few of the more popular students, on a rare occasion that she was invited, and found she despised the taste of alcohol and the way it made her head spin. Now, though, she felt like she could use some. Audrey and Chloé were both home, and they were fighting. Zoé understood more French than she spoke, and even if she wasn’t trying to listen in, it was impossible not to when she was so close.

“It’s so unfair!” Chloé shouted, making Zoé wish that she had picked up some ibuprofen along with her snacks. “Sabri-I was akumatized over a month ago! You can’t keep holding that over me!”

The argument that Chloé and Audrey were having was the same fight they were having this morning. From what Zoé could pick out as she tried to come in without being noticed, Chloé wanted to visit that model who had been on the news at the airport and Audrey wouldn’t let her—something about “embarrassing the family name again.” Zoé would have sided with Chloé on this one, but on the rare occasions they’d seen each other, Chloé wanted nothing to do with her and complained until she left. (It now occurred to her that maybe her sister simply complained all the time, and maybe it wasn’t particularly about her, but that seemed too optimistic to hope for.)

“Out of the question,” Audrey said coldly, not even looking up from her phone.

Please don’t look up... Zoé prayed. She was almost to another door and could probably shut herself in the next room to get a few more minutes.

 “But Mom!” Chloé shrilled out. 

“Don’t call me Mom, Charisse. It makes me sound old.”

Oh, great… she’s still on that kick. For two weeks now, Audrey had insisted that her daughters not call her “Mom” because of an article she had read. When Zoé asked what to call her, Audrey simply replied, “don’t.” It didn’t affect Zoé very much since they were usually not on the same continent and rarely even talked on the phone. She was already used to it, even if she knew what other kids and even some teachers said when they didn’t know she would hear.

Up until now, Zoé had never really had to deal with Audrey, only her absence. It hurt a little not to have a mom, sure, but she had adapted.. found substitute Moms in the older girls or the occasional nice teacher at the many boarding schools she had been shuffled around to over the years. Chloé, on the other hand, had the worst of it. Audrey was a terrible mother, and from the little Zoé knew, she was in her other daughter’s life enough for Chloé to want her approval but gone enough for Chloé to not really have a mother either.

Up until now, a part of her very deep down had been a little jealous that Chloé got to stay, but now that Zoé saw the look of hurt on her half-sister’s face, she felt like she’d been the luckiest girl in the world. And suddenly, it felt very unfair. Even if Chloé was the one who was actually allowed to live with their mother, even if she got to live at home and not be bounced from school to school, even if she was the one who both parents would admit actually existed, she still wasn’t the lucky one.

“Hey—” Zoé forced down the tremor in her voice. She hadn’t meant to say it; she just had to. She swallowed, struggling to find what to call her own mother. “…Mrs. Bourgeois, I think you’re being really unfair to Chloé.” 

Internally, she wondered what she was doing. She had been planning to try very hard to stay out of her mother’s way until she was in a good enough mood to talk. If anything, she should have been more careful— she’d heard that a certain city seemed to be packing the Harvest Camps to the brim, to the point where kids at her school started to use “going to Paris” as a running joke about being unwound. She mentally ran through what she’d said, and reminded herself not to say anything else.

Apparently, though, Zoé’s single sentence wasn’t as respectful as Audrey would have wanted, because the ice-cold wrath soon turned from one sister to another in a heartbeat.

“Did I just hear the word think come from the girl who didn’t think enough not to get thrown out of two schools in two years?” 

Zoé flinched, wanting to defend herself as the witch who was her mother but refused to call herself that continued. “What was supposed to be wrong with this one? Honestly, I don’t know how someone of my caliber was saddled with two idiots for daughters.”

Chloé recoiled like she’d been struck, but Audrey’s attention had been turned back to Zoé. “Tell me, Zena, I know you’re more of a pink leather girl, but what do you think of your sister’s fashion statement? Honestly, I think white would look good on you.”

“I don’t think it would look good for you to have one tithe who went Akuma and one going AWOL.” Zoé tried to keep the fear out of her voice— she barely had any clue what an Akuma was, other than it apparently being an “embarrassment” to a woman who was embarrassed that she’d even had her daughters. 

“Well, if you don’t like white, then how about the pink uniforms that the Harvest Camps make all the delinquent little girls wear?” 

Zoé said nothing, but her stomach twisted. She knew what she was brought here for, but had still been hoping to plead her case.

“I didn’t think so,” Audrey said sweetly. “You’re not in the States where you can just goof off and do what you want, Zoé.” Ignoring Zoé’s appalled expression that anything that happened at those schools could be classified as goofing off, she continued. “You’re answering to me now, and if you mess up here…”

Chloé expected her to say you’re fired. Instead, Audrey chuckled a bit. “If you mess up here, well… then next time I need something rejuvenated, I’ll have a summer and winter wardrobe of parts to choose from.”

Smiling for the first time that day, Audrey stepped through the door. “I have a very important meeting to go to now. I do hope we understand each other, Zoé.” With that, the door slammed shut, leaving the two sisters alone.

Normally after a long flight and a welcome that was anything but, Zoé would have escaped and hidden somewhere for a while where nobody would have thought to look. As much as she wanted to, there was something she had to do first. Taking a few steps closer to Chloé, she took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Zoé asked.

“I’m fine.” Chloé said, sniffling a little while obviously trying to keep tears from flowing. “It’s not all her fault, you know. We really were terrible.”

Zoé didn’t know what to say, so instead she reached into the box of macarons and pulled out a chocolate-honeycomb one. “Here, have this. I got it of the bakery on Rue Gotlib.”

Instantly, the tears were mostly dried up and Chloé looked like she had just swallowed a lemon and a dirty sock. “While you’re here, it looks like I’m going to have to teach you all the rules. First, Zoé, it’s ‘from the bakery.’ Not ‘of the bakery.’ Second, I would rather be tithed ten times than get anything from Dupain-Cheng’s place.”

“You don’t like Marinette?” For whatever reason, Zoé had a feeling that Chloé had a problem specifically with the girl who was so nice and friendly. The glare she shot in her direction confirmed it, and Zoé spent the rest of the day on the rooftop deck finishing the box.

She’d left the one she offered on Chloé’s nightstand just in case, and made up her mind to go back to the bakery for many boxes more.

Chapter Text

Adrien was tired of being in bed.

It was hard to stay awake, and it would be even harder to stay on his feet, but he had to get out. Technically he was supposed to be on bed rest until the next Monday, but he didn’t feel that bad, and what was two more days anyway?

Things had gone back to the way they were before Adrien started going to school. His father wasn’t letting him go anywhere, and Adrien was sick of it. Luckily, he had a way out. After stuffing a pair of pillows under the blankets, his usual tactic for night patrols(I wonder how professional this really is? The only reason I do it is because I saw it on TV a bunch of times), he put on his ring.

“Plagg, Claws Out!”

As Chat Noir, he barely felt a thing swinging over the rooftops. He was more tired than usual, but by any ordinary human’s standards, he was fine. Ducking back into an alley, he turned back into Adrien, and he instantly regretted it.  Turning back always made him feel trapped, but now it felt like someone had just sucked all the energy out of him and made everything sore. He stopped to catch his breath, maybe I’m not as healed as I thought. Part of him wanted to turn tail and head home. However, the thought of Gabriel’s suffocating presence pushed him forward into the Marché des Enfants Rouges.

The day was hot and muggy and just all-around miserable, but despite the heat, Adrien was wearing a hoodie with sleeves that hung almost all the way over his hands. Ever since his surgeries, he felt cold all the time. The doctors said it was the blood loss and would fade with time, but it hadn’t yet. It also kept anyone from recognizing him, or at least it was supposed to. He wasn’t sure if a pair of sunglasses and keeping the hood pulled all the way up would do it or not. The hoodie wasn’t just for warmth or disguise, though; it also hid the bandages around his wrists. He didn’t want anyone to ask any questions, especially not the one that was on his mind every day since the transplant.

“Camembert,” Plagg said impatiently, snapping him out of it. 

“What?” Adrien said weakly. His head hurt from going without his painkillers. He was supposed to take his next dose before he left, but he was afraid it would make him too drowsy to move. Great… withdrawals, something else fun to look forward to over the next few weeks.

“Camembert,” Plagg repeated, sitting in the hood right next to Adrien’s ear. “Come on, kid, I’m starving over here.”

“Not now, Plagg,” Adrien said irritably, pushing his doubts away and tried to focus on having at least some fun. The mention of Plagg wanting Camembert made Adrien remember that he brought no money with him. On a shopping expedition no less. I’ve barely been awake at all this week. Why did I decide to go to an outdoor market?

“Come on, Adrien,” Plagg purred, “They’re selling everything out here. Someone has to have it. Pleeeeeease?” Mostly by accident, his claws nicked Adrien’s ear as he clung on.

“Ow! I said not now, Plagg!” Adrien shouted, a little too loudly. A small crowd of tourists stopped and stared at him. He froze, wondering if he was about to be tomorrow’s tabloid cover. He could see it now: “Adrien Agreste: Model, tithe and now double amputee sighted yelling at nothing in the middle of the Marché des Enfants Rouges.”

Luckily for Adrien, no one seemed to have noticed. This was the tourist season in Paris, after all, and he was in the world’s most notable flea market. Plenty of crazy to go around.

Dipping out of sight as quick as possible, Adrien made his way down one of the quieter corners where no one could see hear him. “I left my wallet at home, Plagg, and I already told you not now. I’m tired and I’m cold and I just want a few hours not under Dad’s gaze.” (It still felt strange to call his father Dad, but he’d insisted on it lately.) “There’s Camembert at home. If you want some, you can either wait or go off by yourself and leave me alone. I’m not in the mood.”  

Plagg crossed his paws with a little humph. “Well, you don’t have to be such a jerk about it, it’s not my fault that you got careless. And might I remind you that if it weren’t for me, dear old Dad would've caught you trying to crawl over the gate.” 

Adrien was too exhausted to argue, and the worst part was, Plagg was right. Not just the fact that Adrien’s only reason for escaping was his powers but also what he’d called him— careless. He’d been right on the scene of a clapper attack and instead of being the hero he’d agreed to be, he got himself in the hospital. Should someone like that have the powers of the Black Cat Miraculous? Did he even want them? He was sure he wasn’t up to this anymore, and now he was starting to doubt if he ever had been. 

One minute more and Adrien would have given Plagg the ring. One minute more and he might have let someone else try to fix a broken world. One minute more and he would have gone home to his golden cage and given up and accepted the fact that he was a tithe, but then he heard it, music coming from a nearby stall.

Adrien was only trained on the piano, but for some reason the sound of someone plucking at a guitar drew him like a moth to a flame. An old man stood there showing a little girl a few chords under a sign that read, “Secondhand guitars, freshly tuned and ready to play.”

Adrien knew that little girl— she was the one he’d saved from Timebreaker at the museum. Now he knew he couldn’t give up his ring. He couldn’t save everyone, but this was why he was a hero; for the people who he could save.

“Look Marinette, I can play now!”
Manon yelled, bouncing up and down. Adrien winced, not from the volume but because now he’d remembered something else about this little girl; Marinette was her babysitter. As happy as he’d be to see her, he wasn’t entirely sure the feeling was mutual. Usually when he talked to her she’d make odd excuses and would rush off suddenly, like she wasn’t comfortable being around him. After being the target of a clapper attack, what if she was even more nervous just to be near him?

Adrien was about to turn around and go back the way he came, but something stopped him, something deep down that urged him to stay. Adrien felt his hands itch, and then the itching started to get worse and worse until his mind concluded that the only way to stop it was to go pick up a guitar. Manon was impressed by the way the stall owner played, laughing and dancing as the man played little snatches of songs. He was so engrossed in his little concert that he didn’t notice Adrien come up until the middle of Frère Jacques. He finished the song and then stopped, waiting for his new visitor to say something.

“Do you mind if I try?” Adrien asked.

 “Be my guest,” the man said as he handed Adrien the acoustic he had been playing. It was a beautiful instrument, worn in some places but shiny and well-cared for. Without even thinking about it, Adrien picked it up.

Adrien had been playing the piano all his life, but he’d never actually picked up a guitar before. He tried to pick out a few notes the way he’d seen Manon trying, and it felt more natural than he expected. Still not really sure what he was doing, he strummed a chord. 

Without a moment of hesitation, his fingers continued exactly as if he’d done this a million times before, playing a hauntingly familiar melody. A strange feeling in the back of his mind told him something wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t be able to play like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to even think about setting down the instrument until he heard a sound from behind him like a mouse being stepped on.

Looking up, he saw Marinette at Manon’s side. Her face was pale and her eyes were wider than Adrien had ever seen them. A horrible suspicion washed over him as he finally realized where he’d heard this song before.

One afternoon, just as school was getting out, Marinette had been humming something softly. He’d asked her about the song and she told him it was the one Luka wrote for her. It was a present for her, and she said Luka had invited her over to hear the entire song once he had it just right.

The song cut off suddenly, as if it was still unfinished. Adrien’s hands were shaking, but that wasn’t exactly true. They weren’t really his. And now, the question that had been in his mind ever since the transplant was answered.

He didn’t have to ask whose hands these were. The tears in Marinette’s eyes as she grabbed Manon and headed for the exit, too overwhelmed to do anything but take her young charge home, were all the answer he needed.

Chapter Text

“Gabriel. A word?”

He could tell by Nathalie’s voice that she was displeased with him, just like she always was these days. Gabriel gritted his teeth. “What seems to be the problem, Nathalie? Adrien is going back to school, just like you insisted.” Or at least he would once he was well enough— there hadn’t been a peep from his room all day, so he must have been very tired.

“You know it’s not about that!” Nathalie hissed. “I just received a very disturbing call from Amelie.”

Gabriel poured himself a glass of bourbon again, as he had been doing too frequently for the last couple of months. “Did you?” He asked, shuddering a bit (whether it was the alcohol or the thought of Amelie calling, Nathalie could only guess). “I thought I blocked her number.”

“She was frantic, Gabriel. She says Felix has been missing for weeks and you’ve been ignoring her.” Nathalie shook on her feet and held the edge of the desk for support. “Apparently the juvenile authorities finally found him in Paris based on a tip about stolen jewelry.”

He refilled his glass. “Felix was a liability. He knew too much.”

“Gabriel, what did you do?” Nathalie’s knuckles went white.

“I did what I had to do.” He didn’t even flinch at her questioning, just raised his glass as if in a toast to what he just did.

“You had your nephew unwound.” It wasn’t a question. “Gabriel, why?” 

“I was trying to handle the situation with Tomoe. Unfortunately it turns out that the other little fugitive wasn’t with him after all. But like I said, he was a liability.” Gabriel laughed without smiling, the laugh of a man who has had too much to drink and whose life was unwinding around him. “You should be thanking me, really.”

Nathalie glared at him. “Thanking you? For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be walking.” Just then, it was not Gabriel Agreste smiling at her but Hawkmoth. “Where do you think your new spine came from?”

Without knowing, Nathalie ran her fingers over the scars on her back. “You didn’t.”

“He was just tall enough thanks to a growth spurt, and we didn’t know when another match would be in supply.” He took another swallow of bourbon. “Think of it as a bonus of sorts. A gift for your hard work.”

Nathalie locked eyes with him. “Don’t pretend you did this for anyone but yourself.”

And with that, she stormed out of the study. She didn’t look back; she couldn’t. Now more than ever, Nathalie was sure she was working for a monster, and she knew she had to get Adrien out. As she was leaving, Gabriel called after her. “The books are wrong, you know. Drinking doesn’t help with the pain of losing Adrien. It just makes it worse!”

But she was gone, and there was no one to hear him except for the butterfly kwami that knew better than to make a sound when his holder was in one of his moods. Gabriel sat there for some time until he got an alert that someone was at his front door. Huffing angrily, he slammed his empty glass onto the desk, stomped down the hall and threw the door open. “Amelie, I told you before—“

He choked on his words when he saw the police waiting for him. For a moment he thought that Nathalie might have finally called the cops on him, but he managed to shove down his panic. After all, anything could be fixed with a well-placed bribe and an Akuma. “How can I help you, officer?”

“Mr. Agreste, good to finally see you in person.” The officer seemed mildly bored if anything. “I trust you received the payment?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Now it made sense— they were here about business. Gabriel could hardly have cared less about the reward money, even if it would be a substantial amount for most people. “But about… the personal items?”

“Right, the stuff the kid stole from you. We’re bringing it in the truck.”

“The—?” Gabriel blinked. I thought I was careful not to let on how valuable that brooch truly is. If they sent an armored truck, they must be taking security very seriously. “Well, as long as I can have it back,” Gabriel said, trying to sound nonchalant.  

The man sighed, took a cracked brooch out of his pocket and pressed it into Gabriel’s hand. “The rest is outside.”

Before Gabriel could ask what he meant, a burst of blue shot out from the Peacock Miraculous. He barely managed to duck behind the door without his visitor seeing him with a bird kwami clinging upside-down to his face.

“Duusu, stop that!” He swiped wildly, trying to clear his vision.

“But my holder’s in trouble!” Duusu fluttered frantically, giving Gabriel a face full of feathers.

Oh, so now the bird decides to be lucid! He finally managed to swipe the kwami off his face. “Just shut up and get out of here—“

“Excuse me?” To Gabriel’s horror, the juvie-cop hadn’t left yet.

“Nothing!” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Now if there’s nothing else—”

“Are you going to get your stuff, or do rich people have someone to do that for you?” He didn’t look so bored anymore, and if he got annoyed enough to look a little closer, it would be a lot more work.  

Gabriel tried to make his voice sound kind and apologetic, and not like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Not only was he struggling to keep a hold on the angry bird in his pocket, but now he was dealing with another complication. “I was assured that the payment was already processed, so if there’s nothing else—“

“Not that!” the man said, obviously amused that he got to deliver a shock to this rich prick. “That!” He pointed outside to Gabriel’s well-manicured lawn.

Gabriel stuck his head through the door and felt his face turn red. A moving truck with its front wheel resting on the grass was being unloaded before his eyes. Already there were dining room chairs he hadn’t had a use for since Emilie became too sick for visitors, a small end table, three lamps, a large rug, a smaller rug, two of his own bed pillows, the golden pen from his desk, an empty crystal decanter with the faint aroma of alcohol and a vase from one of the hallways that made his heart freeze.

The valuable antique was packed to the brim with dirt, but that wasn’t what had him so alarmed. It was the clump of flowers that had been messily uprooted with the vase as a flowerpot. They were the same flowers that grew in Emilie’s sanctuary.

He could get in anytime he wanted. Gabriel’s hand shook as he carried the vase inside, spilling soil on the carpet. Somewhere out there, he had the feeling that the boy was laughing at him.

After texting Adrien’s bodyguard to bring everything inside (Adrien was safe in this house, and only the essential staff were still here since the attack), Gabriel pulled the Peacock brooch out of his pocket. His hand was raw from Duusu’s pecking. I didn’t even know they could do that. I’ll have to keep a tighter leash on Nooroo.

“This isn’t how it goes!” Duusu was seemingly about to pull her own feathers out. “I want my holder back! We’re supposed to be together”

Today was not going how Gabriel intended. To make a bad day worse, the bourbon was not sitting well and both his stomach and head were complaining for it. I’m going to kill that boy!

“But you already have!”

Gabriel wasn’t sure if this half-broken creature had learned how to read his mind or if he’d imagined the retort entirely, but when he saw the blond boy leaning against a nearby doorway, something in him snapped. “I don’t know how you think you’ve escaped Harvest Camp, but you’ll be praying for the scalpel when—!”

 He blinked. It wasn’t Felix after all, just a petrified Adrien. Gabriel forced a smile and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Adrien, I— I think you should go back to bed. You need your rest for school next week.”

Seemingly afraid to say another word, Adrien nodded. He shut the door to his room slowly, and Gabriel sighed.

All the way through the house, Duusu pecked and swarmed Gabriel like a mosquito on steroids. Finally, he’d had enough. “If you shut up and let me have a moment without trying to tear into my arm, I will give the Miraculous back and you’ll have a holder again. Do you understand?” Gabriel meant to growl, but in truth it came out as more of an exhausted plea. He was ready to give the Peacock back to Nathalie anyway. She seemed to have a strange connection with the artifact, perhaps because it made her feel closer to Emilie. Besides, Duusu was her problem. 

To Gabriel’s surprise and relief, the little bird immediately stopped biting him, clinging tightly to his shoulder as he made his way  back into the house and into Nathalie’s room.

“Nathalie?” Gabriel opened the door to see her in bed, half-asleep. “I have something for you.”

 Nathalie wouldn’t say a word, but her face softened as she reached out and took the brooch from his hand. Setting it on her bedside table, she rolled over to face away from him.

Her kwami leaped onto the pillow and snuggled up against the back of her neck, fluffing her feathers in contentment. Despite everything, Nathalie smiled slightly as she drifted back to sleep. “Good to have you back, Duusu. I missed you.”

Gabriel was closing the door when he heard the softly chirped reply, which for the second time that day turned the blood in his veins to ice.

“I missed you too, Felix.”

Chapter Text

Marinette rushed around her room in her pajamas. This was Adrien’s first day back at school, and everything had to be perfect. She had to get dressed— and fast, because she’d overslept again. 

It had gotten to be a bad habit. Marinette would stay up late into the night watching the news for anything important and fall asleep with it on. As she rummaged through her wardrobe in a frenzy looking for something to wear, she didn’t even realize the TV was still on until a familiar voice came through the speakers.

“I will never forget the moment when I walked into that hospital room and saw my son sleeping peacefully, recovering from surgery.”

Oh my God, it’s him. Marinette looked up from the cheap Ladybug mask that she wore in the Nightingale music video (back before the news networks argued about whether or not she and Chat needed to do more about other things) and rushed downstairs to see Adrien Agreste and his father. Adrien’s smile was serene, Gabriel stern but kind. 

“The thought of losing my son weighs on me every day, and although I know that it is his destiny to say goodbye, I know that it will be hard.”

Marinette’s heart was in her chest. She didn’t even process what anyone on TV was saying— she only had eyes for Adrien, and something didn’t seem right. Although Adrien was a rich model and arguably the only one she really knew who was famous (other than herself and Chat), he was still human (if an impossibly perfect one). This Adrien on the screen seemed too angelic, too… what was the vocabulary word  last week? Ethereal? Yes, too ethereal. What did they do to him?

She grabbed her backpack and was halfway through the door when her father called after her. “Marinette!”

After a moment, she turned around and ran back upstairs to put on something other than her pajamas.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette held the straps of her backpack tightly. Collège Françoise Dupont had a new security line, and right now it stretched out the doors of the building and halfway down the block. She could hear a first-year kid somewhere ahead of her fuming.

“I can’t believe we all have to stand in line just because pretty boy got himself blown up!”

Marinette flinched, but before she could work up the courage to say anything, the kid’s brother chimed in. “You think it’s bad for you? I have old lady Mendeleiev first thing.”

The line inched closer to the doors, and the conversation took an ugly turn. “Why couldn’t that weird girl have done her job right and killed the little shit?” That nasty remark came from a girl two years ahead of Marinette and at all at once she felt the urge to both vomit and punch her (maybe vomit on her?). Yesterday around noon, authorities announced that their investigation had been concluded, and that Mylène had been the clapper who tried to take Adrien out. The motive? Revenge for Ivan and for Adrien’s apparent support for the industry that took her beloved away. According to Alya’s FaceTime this morning, half the class was trashing the girl’s memory who just two weeks ago would have given them the shirts off their back while the other half whispered under their breaths that she had the right idea.

“Morning!” whispered Alya from the seat next to her. Her bruises were almost healed, but she didn’t look any less tired than last time. Marinette managed to smile. “It’s good to be back.”

“You’ve missed out on so much!” The voice came from just behind Alya, and Marinette gritted her teeth. Coming back to Lila was worse than the security line.

“Don’t mind her, Marinette.” The tone in Alya’s voice was dismissive, as if Lila was no more than a bug (and not a Ladybug).

“What happened between you two?” Marinette asked, careful not to check if Lila was watching her. Although Marinette and Alya had been back on speaking terms again, she’d thought Alya had been getting closer to the girl who was quite possibly the most dangerous student in school. 

“Oh, nothing much,” Alya said, huffing and rubbing at the small scar on her cheek where the stitches were out. “It’s just that Lila jumped on the hate wagon for a girl she barely even knew.”  

Then it hit Marinette like a ton of bricks. I’ve been cooped up in that bakery for weeks. Everything I've heard about what’s going on came from Alya!

“She’s a murderer, Alya,” Lila cut in, no longer pretending not to eavesdrop. “Ask anyone."

“You know the official story didn’t account for everything.” Alya immediately started to pull something up on her tablet to show her.

“Dude, why are you still defending her?!” Nino cut in. “She almost killed Adrien!” 

Nino looked as if he had aged forty years since the incident. Although he was wearing his typical laid-back surfer style and black baseball cap, his face looked worn and tired and he had the slump of a very exasperated old man. His knuckles were white as he gripped his desk. 

Alya glared back. “I’m telling you, we don’t even know that she really—”

“Don’t give me that!” Nino said. “You were at that protest that day, weren’t you? Did you know what Mylene was going to do?” Before Nino had been talking across the room, but now he was shouting and everyone was staring. “You probably gave that psycho the all-clear to go and kill my best friend!” 

Everyone was stunned. Some probably shared Nino’s suspicions, some probably didn’t, but they were all silent and averting their eyes. Marinette, for her part, was worrying how Adrien would react when he found his friend having a full-fledged mental breakdown. Part of her wanted to get up and say something, but another part of her was scared she would make things way worse than they already were.

“Lila was right about you,” Nino continued. “You just can’t keep your mouth shut! There always has to be a deeper meaning! Well, guess what, Alya? There’s nothing else to it! Mylene was a killer and anyone defending her is no better!” Nino stood shaking and out of breath. Everyone was still staring except Alya, who looked with disbelief at Lila.

However, the moment was soon shattered by the opening of the classroom door. Everyone stared at the boy who went home for the weekend last month, died, and now was resurrected only to die again by his next birthday. The sight was surreal, especially to Marinette, who had just seen the commercial this morning. Now she was sure of it— they must have done something for him in the commercial because he was still recovering. He didn’t look like an angelic creature from another world anymore, just a very tired kid. He looked skinnier, paler and all around very sickly, but he still managed a half-smile. “What are you guys staring at? It’s like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Nino and Alya were the first to laugh, and everyone else joined them. For a moment it didn’t feel like Alya was stubbornly defending a clapper’s honor a moment ago, or that Nino had attacked the memory of a girl who might have been innocent after all. Adrien was still himself, and it was almost like it had always been in the classroom.

His new shadow that the surgeons must have grafted onto him was not so amused. Adrien was accompanied by his bodyguard, who somehow looked even bigger and sterner than usual. Instead of waiting in the hallway, the Gorilla (was that what Adrien called him? Marinette didn’t know his name) was close enough to grab his charge at any moment. Trying to act like nothing had changed, Adrien sauntered over to his seat.

However, before he could even touch the desk, his bodyguard held him back with one hand, lifted the desk with the other, inspected it until he let out a satisfied grunt and set it down. 

“Can he do that with a car too?” yelled Kim from the back, earning a sharp glare from the Gorilla. Adrien was bright red while everyone else tried not to laugh for his sake.

Marinette leaned over as far as she could reach and gave Adrien a packet of notes she’d taken for him. He smiled at her, but then as he took the papers, his hands brushed against hers. In spite of herself, Marinette recoiled and instantly hated herself for it. Tons of people get unwind parts to survive. It’s not his fault, and you know it. But at the same time, she felt sick thinking of that strange letter— the last time she’d heard from the boy who saved Adrien. Why did they have to be Luka’s? Why did he do this to himself?

Looking to the opposite side of the room, she saw Juleka and Rose. Usually the two were inseparable, but now they barely even looked at each other. Rose had never looked more guilty, and Juleka’s goth makeup was running with her tears.

She doesn’t know it was my fault… Marinette gulped, then her head began to hurt so bad she wanted to scream. She saw a vision of an Akuma that she somehow knew was Juleka. Please, no… Don’t let Anarka lose another one because of me…

She didn’t even know her head was on her desk until she heard Ms. Bustier’s voice next to her. “—ette? Can you hear me?”

With an excruciating effort, she sat up. Her head swam, but she nodded. “I’m okay, I think.”

“I really think you should go to the nurse, Marinette.” Her teacher was obviously not going to believe it was nothing, and Marinette was too tired to try to argue her way out of it. She started to make her way to the door, but stumbled into a desk. Someone caught her hand.

“Want me to walk you to the nurse?”

Marinette could have fainted. Adrien had gently taken her hand, just like she’d dreamed of for so long. But now it was more like a nightmare, because in her dreams, it was always Adrien’s hand holding hers.

The bodyguard cleared his throat. Marinette let go a little too quickly, and a look of hurt flashed across Adrien’s face for a moment. “I… never mind. I don’t think I’m supposed to go anywhere.” The worst part was that he looked guilty about it.

“It’s okay, really.” Marinette hoped her voice sounded steady. “I can go by myself.” She tried to give Adrien an apologetic look, but his bodyguard was already in front of him, making sure to stay between him and the door. One very muscular hand rested on something attached to his belt, and Marinette wondered with a chill if he was armed.

Was this how it was going to be now? With Adrien more alone than ever, and herself even farther from where they’d started?

Chapter Text

Now that it was closed for the night, the bakery was dead as a doornail. It wouldn’t be for long, though, and that’s why Plagg had to move fast.

Gliding close to the floor, Plagg gained entrance though a small hole in the wall hidden from humans. That hole was also the entrance and exit for other beings who frequented this establishment, the type of other beings who were just the perfect prey for a growing kitten. By the sound of things, Adrien’s lunch was scurrying and squeaking right towards him. Gracefully, Plagg glided up on to the counter and flew over to where the small paper bags were kept for customers to take home full of cookies and brownies and other small pastries. Today, however, Plagg was in for some more nutritious cargo. Grabbing the bag (which to Plagg was about the size of a parachute) he moved over to the edge of the counter and waited for his quarry.

After what seemed like an eternity, the mouse came into view. The mouse’s fur was a white as the tithing whites that Adrien wore, and very fat by way of living off of all the good scrap bread it had been sneaking. Plagg’s tail twitched as he readied to pounce.

“One, two… Three!”

Without further ado, Plagg pounced upon the rodent that was at least twice as big as him. He carried the small (or to him, very large) pastry bag over his shoulders and threw it like a net so that mouse ran headlong into it. Startled, the mouse began to panic and tried desperately to get out by scratching and biting at the bottom of the bag, but Plagg was having none of it. With one heavy whack, Plagg whacked the mouse on the head, knocking him out. No need to finish him off— Adrien would practice his hunting skills first, same as any other cat.

His hunt completed, Plagg lifted the now heavy and to him very big bag off the ground and headed for the way he came in. However, just as he was trying to figure out to get his big clunky bag out of the bakery, Plagg heard a voice right behind him.

“And just what are you are doing here, Plagg?” 

Tikki.  

“Just relax, Sugarcube,” Plagg said lazily. “I’m just getting Adrien a snack.”

 “A snack?” Tikki asked suspiciously, noticing the bag Plagg was trailing behind him. “Plagg, what have you been stealing? And why? You and Adrien of all people shouldn’t have to worry about food. What did Adrien’s dad do? Blow the family fortune?”

“Worse,” Plagg deadpanned. “He started cooking.”

“Is he that bad?”

“Terrible! The man can’t make a single pancake that isn’t tasteless! You’d think he’d figure it out with all this practice, but he’s actually getting worse.” 

He made a face, and Tikki sighed. “Is he any better at cooking anything else?”

Plagg’s ears laid back in annoyance. “How would I know? It’s all he ever makes! Yesterday his pancakes were so hard Adrien brought one to his room to balance the wobbly leg on his desk!” He shook the bag. “If I don’t bring this kid some actual food, he’s going to starve.”

Tikki sighed again. (She felt like she had been doing that a lot lately.) “Why has Gabriel Agreste of all people started cooking?”

“Why do you think?” Plagg retorted. The answer was obvious to both of them; Gabriel Agreste was trying to spend all the time in the world with his son before he was hauled off for his tithing.

Tikki finally relented, “Fine, take whatever’s in that bag and go.” But just as Plagg was about to enter the hole in the wall, he heard Tikki call after him. “Wait!” 

Plagg stopped trying to cram the bag through the mouse hole for a second as Tikki flew over to him.“There better not be any chocolate in there. That belongs to me!” She circled the bag, trying to take a look of what was inside.

“Hold on there, Sugarcube,” Plagg said. “Maybe there is chocolate in this bag, maybe there isn’t. Why do you have the right to know, and who made you the queen of chocolate?”

“Why did you have to come to this bakery?” Tikki asked, exasperated.

Plagg crossed his paws. “Because it’s my job to look after Adrien, and there isn’t anybody in this entire world who LOVES Adrien more than Marinette.”

“Just go, Plagg,” Tikki said quietly. She knew both of their holders could use something sweet right now, and she knew how badly Marinette wanted to reach out to Adrien. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Plagg grinned. “See you around, Sugarcube!”

No sooner did Plagg go back to trying to cram the paper bag through the hole in the wall than the contents of the bag wake up and begin to squeak in panic. Tikki was too stunned to do anything but watch as Plagg finally fit the bag through the gap and disappeared into the night. He’s got a mouse, a live mouse! And he expects Adrien to eat it! Tikki thought.  I’d give a week’s worth of macarons to be a fly on the wall when Plagg brings Adrien a live mouse.

Chapter Text

Adrien really wasn’t looking forward to breakfast. His father was trying to cook again and as much as Adrien appreciated the attention, the pancakes were at best passable as an edible substance. Drowning them in syrup only did so much. He wasn’t about to complain exactly, but he could have sworn he’d caught Nathalie using an especially hard pancake as a coaster for her coffee. So it was a surprise when instead of the sound of the smoke detector going off Adrien woke up to the rustling of a paper bag.

The bag was kind of crumpled, but he could still make out the logo from the bakery. It was the one Marinette’s parents owned. Adrien secretly hoped Marinette brought him the treats— things had been tense between them for too long and he was torn between trying to talk to her and giving her space. Maybe this was her way of saying it was time to reach out.

Adrien ran over to the bag, but Plagg perched on the top before he could open it. He had the satisfied look of a cat who’s just a little bit too proud of himself. “I went out last night and took care of your breakfast for today! You’re welcome.”

Adrien felt a pang of disappointment that it wasn’t from Marinette, but he quickly shoved that down. Plagg had brought him a treat, and he was enormously excited. 

Adrien knew he should probably go ahead and eat before the morning’s pancakes were ready. He picked up the pastry bag and gave it an experimental shake. Whatever was inside was small but heavy; maybe a muffin or some cookies?

“Come on, kid, don’t just stand there looking at it! You gotta eat!”

That was all the convincing Adrien needed. Without waiting even another second, he opened the bag.

Nathalie was in the kitchen making herself a cup of coffee when she heard the scream.

Something furry, squeaking and as round and white as a golf ball shot out of the bag and rocketed onto Adrien’s face. He shrieked and instinctively tried to brush the creature off his face, but the mouse was just as panicked as he was and tumbled down the front of his pajamas. Adrien had never been that afraid of rodents, but this was different; watching a mouse scurry around from a distance was nothing like having little claws racing down his shirt sleeve.

“Come on, kid! You got this!” Plagg cheered. As usual, he was doing nothing to help but watch. Adrien shook his shirt sleeve wildly, finally dropping the mouse out of his sleeve and onto the bed.

“Plagg! Do something!”

“No, you had him. Just don’t let go this time!”

His kwami’s gift disappeared over the opposite side of the bed and darted underneath it. For such a well-fed animal, the mouse was amazingly fast.

Adrien stood on his chair watching in disbelief. “There’s a mouse under my bed…”

“Well, duh,” Plagg commented from atop the computer. “You didn’t catch him right! What is this, your first hunt?”

Chapter Text

“Gabriel, you can’t do this!” Tomoe was livid. “I’ll sue, and you know I’ll win, you pathetic excuse for a—”

“More tea, Ms. Tsurugi?” Gabriel said impassively.

“I will not be drinking anything you offer,” Tomoe said sternly, “not until you tell me what you have done now, other than being your usual idiotic self. Why did you demand that we meet in person?”

“Yes, of course I’ll tell you,” Gabriel said, “and I’ll also tell you why you’re not going to sue me. And you’re not going to whack me over the head with your cane like some misbehaving schoolboy, either.”

Very begrudgingly, Tomoe sat down. She always was a greedy old bat, Gabriel thought as Tomoe took her seat again and, to his amusement, extended her teacup to him. He graciously filled her cup and smiled as sweetly as a snake. Tomoe, for her part, growled like a junkyard dog.

“As I understand it,” Gabriel said smoothly. “There had been some misunderstanding in regards to releasing our product prematurely?”

“Misunderstanding, my foot!” Tomoe said, “We had a deal Gabriel, a deal! And you broke it! I might not be able to read the fine print of our contract, but my lawyers can!”

Gabriel let out a deep laugh, which only angered Tomoe further since she had been completely serious. “Do you think I was joking? Those who break a contract with my company tend to find themselves in an ‘accident’.” 

“Just like the ‘accident’ you tried to arrange for Adrien?” Gabriel said, the corner of his mouth slightly upturned.

After an almost imperceptible pause, Tomoe had regained all traces of her composure and was back to spitting venom. “You don’t understand the gravity of your accusations.”

“Do I?” Gabriel asked, his voice laced with smugness. “Then would you care to explain to me why DNA samples matched two teenagers who mysteriously disappeared from another harvest camp after being declared medically unfit for unwinding? A harvest camp, in fact, which was heavily affiliated with Tsurugi Industries? I suppose they thought they had managed a brilliant escape.” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Did Alexis Murphy and Jessica Stappes even know they could never have been unwound?”

“You are out of your mind, Gabriel-San,” Tomoe said through gritted teeth.

“Then how come the clapper fluid wasn’t right?” Gabriel asked innocently.

“What?” Tomoe said, turning slightly paler. 

“The clapper fluid. Usually it contains a certain binding agent that binds the explosive to the blood cells. The clapper fluid found at the site of my son’s attack had a binding agent of a higher quality. It’s used on experimental nanobots to test blood cells. And what is the only company in the world who makes the agent? Tsurugi Industries, which has a patent on the formula.”

Tomoe’s unseeing eyes narrowed behind her dark glasses. “You could never prove it,” she said flatly. “This is nothing but a theory and you know it.”

“I could prove it if I really needed to. But I don’t. All I need to do is leak the story to the tabloids and the patchwork of evidence to the news.” Gabriel smiled again. “I have to hand it to you, Tomoe. You planned the perfect crime. You won’t even lose money, considering that Verdon Gorge left your company’s supply agreement for a cheaper one three months before. The only part Nathalie and I couldn’t trace was why.” His smile faded, and his fist clenched. “How could you possibly benefit from killing my son?”

Tomoe sat in silence for several moments, analyzing his words. When she finally spoke, she still sounded as if she was scolding a misbehaving slow-witted child for failing a test. “I was never trying to kill Adrien. His injury only happened because of you.”

“Me?” Gabriel almost fell over, too stunned to stand.

“Yes, you.” Tomoe huffed. “Your brand desperately needed a PR solution after the news of Adrien’s unwinding was leaked without proper timing. The best way to build support for your company was to make it an ally against a public enemy.”

“You put my son in danger for—”

“He was never in harm’s way, or at least he never would have been if you could actually complete a project on schedule. Had you not let him drag his feet, Adrien would have been far out of range before the detonation.” She shook her head. “To your credit, you managed to avoid completely ruining my plans. Public support for the iconic Gabriel Agreste and his beloved son is at an all-time high.”

“But that’s why we need to release our new product now, Tomoe.” Gabriel barely repressed the urge to argue over which one of them was responsible for putting his son in the hospital (although the office furniture would suffer for it once Tomoe had gone home). “This is a unique opportunity.”

“No!” Tomoe cut in. “The key features you wanted are still in development.” Even at risk of exposure, jail time, maybe even the noose (Japan still hanged people, after all), Tomoe refused to allow a change of her plans. “Why I believed you when you said you would have more than one working Miraculous by now, I will never know.”

“Don’t worry about that for now.” Gabriel said, flipping Tomoe off to her unseeing eyes as he looked down at the little silver box that sat in the middle of the table. “We’re about to get everything we want.”

The ties that bind us are precious, unique. In these unprecedented times, staying connected is more important than ever.

Created by Tsurugi, designed by Gabriel.

Alliance informs.

“I wasn’t so sure about it at first, but it’s actually pretty sweet,” Alya commented, flexing her fingers. “Here, watch this; Alliance, please post last draft to main page.”

Marinette’s phone chimed, and she knew without looking that the weekly Ladyblog post was up. I really hope she didn’t get a shot of me tangled up in my yo-yo…

“It’s so amazing that you’re an Alliance model, Lila!” Rose was congratulating the other new face of digital assistance. “You and Adrien must have worked really hard for this.”

“Well, it’s all about recognizing natural talent, you know?” Lila admired her avatar again. “A modeling agency in Peru told Gabriel Agreste about my experience, and after they practically begged me to model for Alliance, it was the least I could do to help them out.”

Marinette felt like she was about to vomit. Not only was Lila being a snake as usual but she was also working a little too close to Adrien for her liking. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually wish it was Chloé instead.

“I see you’re behind the times as usual, Dupain-Cheng.”

Speak of the Devil. Slowly but surely, this was turning out to not be Marinette’s day. Listening to Chloé was only slightly better than listening to Lila. Worse still, something about Chloé did catch her eye, and of course Chloé caught her staring.

“Everyone who’s anyone knows you need two lines,” Chloé bragged while doing a striking impression of a hand model. “One for personal, one for business.”

“Business? When did you get a job?”

Max’s genuine question left Chloe red in the face, with the entire class laughing. She whirled around to glare at him. “I don’t have to explain myself! None of you would understand, anyway!” She dropped into her seat in a huff, then shot another glare at the empty seat next to her. “Where is she? Alliance, call Sabrina.”

Her ring didn’t even turn on. Chloe tried the one on her right hand, which appeared to be the “business” line. “Alliance, call Sabrina. Call Sabrina!” She pulled the ring loose and shook it. “The stupid thing doesn’t even work!”

“I helped design the system. Let me try.” Lila leaned over Chloe’s shoulder and cleared her throat. “Alliance, please call Sabrina.”

The ring lit up with the call screen. Lila smirked. “Works just fine for me.”

To Marinette’s surprise, Chloé turned to her, pointed at Lila and made a gagging gesture. Alya was still engrossed reading comments on her blog, and nobody else was looking. Somewhat against her better judgement, Marinette smiled and nodded.

Alliance guides.

“Is this why you digitized me, Father?” Adrien asked, watching the video of the Alliance demonstration again.

Gabriel smiled and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Precisely. I’ve freed you from your modeling obligations. Now we can spend more time with each other.”

Adrien smiled, but not as much as Gabriel had hoped. “Is something wrong, Adrien?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just…” Adrien hesitated. “It’s a little weird seeing myself like that.”

“Adrien, I did this for you,” Gabriel said sternly, but then his voice softened. “I should never have made you do that commercial for Verdon Gorge. If you hadn’t been there that day…”

Adrien’s eyes widened at what was almost an apology, but before he could react, his father pulled him into a hug. It was the first time in so long, and he hadn’t even had to ask.

“I was terrified when I thought I was going to lose you.” Sooner than Adrien would have liked, his father released him and drew back. “This is my way of protecting you from another incident, and of keeping you with me even after I have to let go.”

Adrien’s heart sank. Well, I guess that settles it. Injury or no injury, he’s still going to unwind me.

Alliance protects.

Marinette opened the box and saw her reflection looking back at her from the ring’s silver plating. It must have been an expensive present for them… are they still trying to make me feel better? I can’t keep worrying them like this. She looked up from the early birthday present and smiled. “Thanks, Mom and Dad! I can’t wait to try it out.” 

The whole thing was a little weird, sure, but it was fun playing with Alya’s Alliance at school. And besides, if Adrien was the avatar… maybe she could practice talking to him without getting nervous, and then later maybe she could find the real Adrien and finally talk to him.

She held the ring up to the light, admiring the design before finally trying it on.

The image struck her like she’d been electrocuted. There she was in a shop, trying on an Alliance again for the first time. She hadn’t seen Socqueline since the end of last year, when—

Marinette pulled the ring off, and she was back in her living room. Only then did she remember her parents were watching, and she hoped with a rising dread that they hadn’t noticed.

“Marinette, what’s wrong?” 

Of course they did. She could easily hide what was wrong, but she still wasn’t very good at pretending there wasn’t something. Her father was still waiting for an answer, and it looked worse with every second she couldn’t give him one.

“Did it shock you?” her mother asked, carefully taking her hand and checking for any damage. On a reflex, Marinette pulled away.

“It’s fine. I’m okay.” Marinette forced herself to smile so she wouldn’t cry. “It was really, really sweet of you guys to get me an Alliance ring, and I appreciate it so much, but… I want you to have it. I love it, but I just realized it’ll get in the way when I’m sewing.” It was lucky that she had an excuse off the top of her head— the last thing she wanted was to make them think she wasn’t grateful. “Besides, you know me. I’d probably lose it or break it by accident.” To Marinette’s surprise, her nervous laugh didn’t sound unnatural to her. “Either of you would get more out of it than I would, anyway.”

That part was true. She couldn’t use the Alliance if it made her remember what happened after the last day of school.

Alliance by Gabriel. Bringing us together.

Chapter Text

“Okay. Here’s how this is going to work.” Lila smiled like a snake as she dropped a stack of papers on Sabrina’s desk. As soon as Sabrina looked down, she instantly regretted letting her come over. “You’re going to fill this out with the information I give you, and the handwriting is going to be an exact match. For reference, the signatures you need to copy are on these field trip permission slips.”

“But—” protested Sabrina. What she really wanted to ask was, How did you get all of this? But looking into those amber eyes gave Sabrina a chill that somehow kept her voice from getting out. 

Lila continued. “And you’re going to get it done as soon as I tell you to, because soon you won’t have a rich tithe friend to protect you anymore. The police already know you were Akumatized. Chloé’s weird attachment issues are the only reason you’re not in a harvest camp.” She paused, taking in the look of terror on Sabrina’s face. “Of course, I travel internationally all the time for modeling, and I’ve learned a thing or two about changing looks with makeup. You sign a few things, and you’ll be unwinding at a remote lakehouse in Madrid instead of an operating table.”

This was a blatant lie. Lila wouldn’t keep Sabrina around for long, even if she was useful; leaving a trail was a rookie mistake. For that matter, she’d never been to any lakehouse in Madrid, and didn’t particularly know if Madrid even had lakes. Sabrina was just a loose end, but she’d take care of that— and another one while she was at it.

Fishing a triplicate form out of the small stack, Lila set it on top (making sure not to get her own fingerprints on anything).

“This is an Unwind Order,” Sabrina squeaked out as her hands trembled. “Lila, I can’t— I can’t do this!”

“Yes you can.” Lila pushed the top form off the stack and slid it over to her. “You already do all of Chloé’s homework. It’s the same thing, really.” 

“It’s not the same thing!” Sabrina scooted her chair back, as if the papers were going to come after her. “Helping Chloé doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“And neither does this.” Lila smiled, the way she knew made her look friendly. “Her parents can just cancel it.” If they knew about it, they could. She picked up the papers. “I managed to get a payment for having this signed. By the time the order’s undone, you’ll be safe and in the lap of luxury. Come on, Sabrina.” She circled around the desk and put a hand on the trembling girl’s shoulder. “I’m doing this to help you. All you have to do is help yourself.”

“You’re doing this because you and Marinette hate each other,” Sabrina stuttered. “You got all cozy to Alya and Marinette resents you for it. You think you’re a lot smarter than you are, but everyone is on to you.” 

“On to me?” Lila said, raising an eyebrow. She tried to be nonchalant, but inside she felt a tinge of hot rage.

“You use people, Lila. Nobody knows why, but they know you do it. And now you want Marinette out of the picture because she knows too. I won’t do it, Lila. It- it’s murder.”

Lila felt her hands curl into fists and she had to fight to keep herself calm. The rage had almost reached a boiling point but there was something else too, something all too familiar with her triple (or was it quadruple) lives. Fear. In a voice that would have been perfect as a Sunday School manners class, Lila said, “Listen to me, you sniffling little cur. I don’t know what’s made you grow a back bone, but I do know this; Nobody else will help you, and even if you told them, they wouldn’t understand. Especially not since you’d have to tell them you were the one responsible for ruining your best friend’s reputation in the tabloids.”

When Sabrina lowered her head, Lila knew she’d hit her mark. “The law is very specific about what happens to Akumatized little snots, and whether you think it’s murder or not, what you get to decide is if you’re going to rest in pieces. That goody-goody Dupain-Cheng gets a scare, or your worthless father has to live without a wife or daughter.”

Sabrina had always been a patient little toady and granted whatever Chloé asked, some of which she wasn’t too proud about. However, at her worst, Chloé was still not Lila. She had done some cruel things, but never this far. 

All she could think of was how her father struggled to hold back tears that day in the hotel lobby. Her father, her Daddy, was the only family she had. She loved him. And although she knew he would be heartbroken, she also knew the lessons he taught.

Lila smiled as Sabrina shook like a leaf. Taking a pen from a mug on the desk, she held it out to her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Watch your left, Ladybug!” Queen Bee called. Ladybug dodged just in time to barely avoid becoming a vaporized pile of ash. Someone out there is laughing at us, she thought. 

When she and Chat Noir first arrived on scene, Queen Bee was already there. Ladybug had made the quip that she just hoped they weren’t dealing with Mr Pigeon for the umpteenth time this month, and Chat shared a good long laugh with her.

Now she wished it was Mr. Pigeon. Chat Noir was out of action with his powers stolen. He’d tried to stay in the fight anyway, but after nearly taking a Cataclysm to the chest, Ladybug and Queen Bee convinced him to evacuate the hotel instead.

 “Oh, I just love squishing bugs!”  the Akumatized girl laughed as she unleashed another fury of blasts. She’d happily introduced herself as Miraculer, and she meant business. Ladybug had a sneaking suspicion who she really was, but she could really only tell because she was so close. (At least, she hoped so.)

“Move it!” Queen Bee called out, knocking Ladybug to the ground and nearly taking a Cataclysm herself. Ladybug bit back a scolding; she would have to wait until later to address Chat’s habit that was apparently spreading to their new ally.

Miraculer cackled with laughter, and the sad reality of the situation came back to Ladybug. This girl could steal powers, and she had stolen Chat Noir’s and gone on a rampage. I pray to God my Cure works, she thought as she took hold of Queen Bee’s outstretched hand to help her to her feet.

As surprised as Ladybug was to admit it to herself, she was extremely grateful for Queen Bee. She’d been first on the scene, the first to figure out how Miraculer’s powers worked, and had just saved her life for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

“You go right, I’ll go left. Then—“ 
Ladybug’s plan was never to be fully explained, because Miraculer hit her mark. The strike wasn’t the agony she’d expected, but her relief at being alive was quickly replaced with horror. Red spots had joined the green pawprints on Miraculer’s suit, and Ladybug’s powers were now hers.

“Ladybug!” Queen Bee’s shrill voice shrieked, making her ears ring more than they already did. 

Ladybug forced herself to smile, trying not to panic at what this might mean. “I’m okay. She didn’t actually… hurt me, just…” 

Queen Bee’s hand rested on her spinning top, the weapon already half-drawn. “What do we do now?”

I have no idea, but I have to try. Ladybug took a deep breath. “We keep going.”

Queen Bee shook her head incredulously. “You can’t go out there without powers! She’ll destroy you!”

“It’s my job.” Ladybug took her yo-yo from her belt, wondering if it would still work without her powers. “I have to at least try.”

She took a step forward, but Queen Bee pulled her back. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Um… I can’t tell, you, but—“

“Lucky Charm!” Miraculer shouted from just out of view. When she ran back to the heroes, Ladybug jumped at the sight of the staff in one hand and a giant black and red sword in the other. 

“How come yours never gives you anything like that?” grumbled Queen Bee as she tried in vain to land a sting on the villain.

“Not… the… time!” Ladybug dodged and weaved through the furniture on the pool deck, each obstacle crumbling to ash as Miraculer grabbed for it. It was only a temporary solution, and even worse, she wasn’t any closer to stopping the Akuma. She launched her yo-yo as hard as she could, but to her alarm the villain caught it and yanked the cord, pulling her to the ground before she could drop it.

What’s with me today? Ladybug scrambled back, her superhuman agility painfully missing. It’s a good thing Queen Bee’s here… She looked around and groaned. And she’s gone. Of course!

Quick as a cat, Miraculer pounced, pinning Ladybug down. It was very likely that the only thing keeping her from delivering a well-placed Cataclysm to the head was that she needed the earrings. Ladybug struggled to keep Miraculer’s gloves away from her ears, and then—

“Wait!”

Both of them looked up, mid-struggle. Chloé was running to the scene as fast as she could. “I changed my mind! I’ll take some superpowers like you said.”

As if this day couldn’t get any worse! Ladybug took the distraction to try to shove Miraculer away, but the villain released her and ran to Chloé’s side.

“Chloé, this is perfect!” Miraculer laughed, throwing her arms around her. Now Ladybug couldn’t even pretend she might be wrong about her identity— there was no mistaking her now. “It’ll be just like our games! I’ll be Chat Noir, and you can be Ladybug!” Red light glowed from the palm of her gloves, and the ladybug spots on her costume disappeared.

It was surreal seeing the familiar suit form around Chloe. Even stranger was the expression of pure wonder on her face— Ladybug realized with a start that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually seen Chloé smile.

“Do you like it, Chloé?” Miraculer asked, bouncing on tiptoe in excitement.

“It’s perfect.” Chloé spun around, admiring herself in the reflection on the pool water. “You really know me, don’t you?” She hesitated, and the smile faded. “I’m sorry about this, Sabrina.”

“What—“

Chloé spun the red and black yo-yo from her belt, entangling Miraculer. Her staff fell to the ground, and Chloé grabbed it before running to the real Ladybug and picking up the giant sword from Miraculer’s Lucky Charm.

“Can I do it this time?” Without waiting for an answer, Chloé tossed the giant weapon into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Ladybug snapped the staff over one knee. Chloé caught the black butterfly and spun the yo-yo just like she’d seen on TV (although Ladybug thought she really didn’t need to be that dramatic about it). “There, I did it!”

With the Akuma gone, Chloé’s costume dissolved along with Miraculer’s transformation. To Ladybug’s relief, the security camera near the pool that she’d “accidentally” knocked the lens out of with her yo-yo earlier was still broken, and nobody was up here except a girl in a hotel uniform who’d spent the whole time huddling behind a laundry cart full of pool towels. Chloé went to help Sabrina inside, and Ladybug leaned over the ledge of the rooftop to see Chat Noir on the ground below. He seemed to be standing guard, or maybe doing crowd control. Using her yo-yo, Ladybug lowered herself to the ground. “We did it, kitty!” She held out her fist to him. “Pound it!”

To her surprise, he flinched away from her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I— Sorry, Milady, I’m out of time.” He sprinted off, leaving her standing there with her hand extended.

Was he okay? She hadn’t heard any beeping from his timer. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t let her get a good look at him all day. Was he avoiding her for some reason? Did I do something?

Scaling the hotel balcony by balcony, she was back on the roof in less than a minute. Chat hadn’t shown up for patrol as much lately, and when he did he was late. He never met up with her until well after dark, and with a pang she realized he hadn’t tried to hold her hand in weeks. Had she really done something to hurt his feelings so badly?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the muttering from a hidden corner of the roof.

She could hear a soft grunting noise, like someone in pain. Her first instinct was to call out, but a twisting feeling in her gut told her that something was very, very wrong. With one hand on her yo-yo, she inched closer until she could hear a voice.

“No… you can’t make me…”

Every muscle tensed to strike, Ladybug crouched down and slowly looked around her corner. When she saw what was happening, she could have screamed if her voice worked.

Chloé Bourgeois was huddled behind the planter clutching her head. An eerie pink-purple silhouette sat over her eyes, which were scrunched shut in intense pain, focus or both.

Now? Right after the last one?! Ladybug bit her lip to keep herself from groaning. And it’s Chloé too! This day just keeps getting worse. She’d seen Akumas taking over their victims, and it wasn’t fun to watch. Unfortunately, if she didn’t know where the butterfly was, there wasn’t much she could do until the transformation was complete. She was exhausted, but if Chloé didn’t see her, maybe she could still have the element of surprise when she transformed.

But then Chloé shook her head, and Ladybug’s stomach pitched. A glimmering golden comb sat in the blonde ponytail, slightly darkened by the magic of the Akuma. No, no, please no. Either Queen Bee had lost her Miraculous and Chloé found it, or… no, who was she kidding? At least if she was fast enough, she had a chance of getting it back. Would that mean having to destroy a Miraculous to release the Akuma, though?

“No!”

Chloe’s shrill retort snapped her out of it. How had she managed to hold off so long?

“I said no, Hawkmoth! I don’t care. I am a hero!”

The mask flickered and disappeared. A black butterfly flew from the comb, leaving Chloé gasping for breath but still in control.

It only took a matter of seconds for Ladybug to catch and purify the Akuma. Then she turned to Chloé, who was flat on her back with one hand on the Bee comb.

“Well?” Chloé asked, not getting up. 

Ladybug had a lot to ask her. There were so many questions running through her mind, but they could wait now that the Chloé in front of her didn’t look like the Chloé she knew. All their lives, Marinette had only known her as the spoiled bully who could have anything she wanted. Now her tormentor sounded… resigned, like she was losing the only thing she had in the world. And I’m going to be the one to take it away.

She came closer and steeled herself. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but only one that she needed to. She just hoped she was still doing the right thing.

Extending a hand, she lowered her voice.

“Would you come with me on patrol tonight?”

Chapter Text

“This has to stop, Ladybug!” Lady Wi-Fi screamed as they grappled for a cell phone with a familiar charm hanging from the case. “People need to know the truth about that bill.” 

“I know, but… this isn’t right!” Ladybug barely dodged another blast from Lady Wi-Fi’s pause button. She felt very tired, like she wasn’t even dealing with an Akuma, but another one of those arguments with Alya that just kept going around and around. 

She didn’t dare use her yo-yo at such close range. The news studio was empty except for a few frozen reporters, but the cameras were still rolling. All Marinette would have to do to end this was flick her wrist, then Bam! Lady Wi-Fi wouldn’t be Lady Wi-Fi anymore. She would be Alya, and everyone would know it was Alya and then Alya would be unwound…

The Akuma scoffed in a very Alya-like manner, and without even thinking about it Ladybug rolled her eyes. “All your talk about being a hero, but you never do what has to be done.” 

She was frozen to the spot as the Akuma that had over her best friend looked her dead in the eyes. The next blast wasn’t a pause but a bolt of electricity that would have fried her like a pork chop, and it was only a well-placed strike from Chat’s staff that threw it off. Unfortunately, it still clipped her ankle and sent her tumbling to the ground. She shouldn’t be able to do that… Why can she do that?

“You’re supposed to be protecting people. Well, what about Ivan? What about Alix? What about us?” 

In that moment it wasn’t Lady Wi-Fi talking to Ladybug, it was Alya talking to Marinette. The worst part was that Ladybug didn’t have an answer, and it didn’t even register that Chat Noir made an ill-timed dash until he was thrown to the ground by Alya.

“Time for the whole world to know the truth.” Alya grabbed Ladybug’s mask and tried to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. “Why— won’t— this— come— off?”

“I think it’s like a part of me,” said Ladybug, a little dumbfounded. To tell the truth, she had never tried taking off her mask any way other than powering down. It suddenly felt a little unsettling how much she still didn’t know about her own transformation.

Huffing angrily, Lady Wi-Fi released her grip on Ladybug’s face and reached for her earrings. “Well, it doesn’t matter. One way or another, that mask is coming off in a minute.”

“Oh no, it’s not!” Chat growled. Quick as a Cat, he vaulted into Lady Wi-Fi, knocking her out of frame away from the cameras. Alya’s hand, which had been millimeters from Ladybug’s ear, now had a set of gashes from his claws. The liquid dripping down her arm wasn’t red, but a thick purplish tar that looked evil. Alya, for her part, didn’t even seem to notice.

Then, with a loud crack, the Akuma came out of a shattered cell phone and was hovering so very close to Ladybug, snapping her out of her trance. She couldn’t cast her Cure fast enough— the image of her partner’s savage catfight would burn in her eyes for a long time. Tossing the Lucky Charm in the air (she’d called on it the moment the fight started and still wasn’t sure she’d used it right), she watched the purple oozing scars close and Alya become herself again.

Ladybug’s relief was quickly replaced by fear and dread as some of the now-unfrozen crew ran to their cameras, all hoping to be the first to unmask the city’s latest villain. But just as the first cameraman swiveled his camera to get the money shot of a dazed Alya, Chat Noir put his hands over the lens. “Turn those cameras off. Now.” 

In a growl so unlike his usual banter, her kitty defended Alya with the same ferocity that had just clawed her so badly. “This thing never happened. The Akuma escaped. You didn’t see anything. Got it?” Ladybug’s eyes widened as the big ON AIR sign that had filled her with so much dread switched off. Chat Noir continued, “If I find out that this girl is in a Harvest Camp, then you’ll all be sorry.”

Giving one final glare to the crew, he walked Alya out of the room. Now Ladybug recognized him again, but the image of the purple blood matting his claws would stay with her for a long time.

“I know, right?”

Marinette could hear Lila’s voice from the hallway like nails on a chalkboard. I knew I shouldn’t have come back today. Why didn’t I just ditch?

When she opened the door, she didn’t expect everyone to be staring at her. Most of her classmates looked horrified, Alya was looking at her like she had snakes crawling out of her ears and Adrien had gone so pale that his tithing whites made him look like a ghost. 

“Is everything okay?” Marinette’s heart pounded, the age old nightmare coming back to her. Before she became Ladybug, she used to have nightmares about accidentally coming to school in her underwear like a normal kid. Now she checked her hands to make sure she wasn’t wearing the red and black uniform of Ladybug.

“See? I told you.” Lila got up from where she was sitting on Marinette’s desk. If no one else was around and I caught you sitting on my desk, Lila, I would knock you off of it with my fist. Even with everyone watching, Marinette almost hit Lila anyway when she put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I really do wish you hadn’t been Akumatized.”

“W-what?” Slowly, the situation sank in. “Lila, what did you—“

“It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend with us, Marinette.” Lila was using that fake-gentle voice that came out whenever she was pretending to be injured. “We’re your friends, and we’ll be there for you as long as we can.”

They think I’m Lady Wi-Fi. Marinette felt her stomach turn and she felt like she was going to vomit. Hopefully all over Lila. If everyone thought she was the Akuma, if Lila had already convinced the whole class in just a few minutes, how long did she have before the juvies came barging in here? She’d be carted off, like some of the kids she’d de-Akumatized and left to their fate. A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as she considered the irony, and a part of her wondered if she deserved it. She subconsciously put a hand to her earrings, checking to make sure she still had them just in case the juvies made a surprise appearance.

“What makes you think it was me?” Marinette’s voice came out high-pitched and squeaky, just like it always had ever since she was a little kid and trying to hide something.

Lila sighed and turned so they were face-to-face, with her back to the rest of the class. “I’m sorry, but it would take a really good cover story to get you out of this. You were the last one back, and besides, we all know how much you care about people telling the truth— or at least what you think is the truth.” The corner of Lila’s mouth upturned in a smirk. As clearly as if she’d said it out loud, Marinette understood the message. Your move.

Marinette racked her brain, desperately trying to come up with a good reason why she couldn’t be Lady Wi-Fi or Ladybug. For some reason her eyes settled on Alya, who gave her a pleading look. She thinks I’m going to throw her under the bus, thought Marinette, but then a wave of guilt washed over her. Haven’t I done the same to our friends? She stood there, lost and trying not to panic until a voice came from the other side of the room. 

“She was with me.”

All eyes turned to Adrien, who got up and went to Marinette’s side. Alya let out a sigh of relief, and Marinette wondered with a pang if her best friend might have been on the verge of taking the blame.

“You—what?” Even Lila took a few seconds to get her usual mask of mock-concern back.

“We were together the whole time. I was hiding with her.” Marinette realized Adrien was holding her hand, and she was sure her face was as red as her Ladybug suit. She smiled.“Yep, that’s right. We— we both took shelter in the same place…” She heard a few voices whispering and giggling, and felt her cheeks turn even redder. She stole a glance at Adrien’s eyes and for a second Marinette could have sworn that she had heard that little tremor in his voice before. But then again, holding Adrien’s hand was making her lightheaded, so the moon could be made of  Camembert for all she knew. 

“Oh, Marinette, I’m so sorry.” Lila tried to throw her arms around her, but Adrien was too close for it to work. “Adrien, why didn’t you say something?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s just… you know. I guess…”

“I made him promise not to,” Marinette blurted out. The giggling got louder, and now she was sure her heart was going to explode. “I didn’t want anyone to know that… we’re…”

“Dating,” Adrien finished. As perfect of an excuse as it was, Marinette could have fainted.

“Oh! That’s so sweet!” Rose piped up. “I’m so happy for you!”

“ ‘Bout time,” whispered Alya, who was still clutching her tablet but now with a small smile.

The bell rang, and everyone filed out until it was just Marinette and Adrien. He turned to her. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t be. This is perfect.” Marinette realized what she’d just said, and immediately scrambled over her words trying to explain it. “I mean, the plan was perfect, not what you said. Wait, no, that part was perfect, all I meant was—“ She cleared her throat. “Why’d you lie for me like that?”

He hesitated, and for a moment Marinette was sure she made things worse again. Then Adrien squeezed her hand, bringing a mix of emotions. Part of her wanted to jump for joy that Adrien Agreste was holding her hand, and part of her wanted to break down and cry because it wasn’t Adrien’s hand that she was holding. “Because I… I just know it wasn’t you.”

He smiled, really smiled. “I’m sorry I told them we were dating, Marinette...” He paused for a moment, running Luka’s right hand through his hair (his left was still gently holding hers). “I just… it was the first thing I thought of that made sense.”

“Us together?” Marinette felt like she was going to faint. 

He nodded. “I know you’d probably rather just be friends.…” 

Suddenly the same thought seemed to occur to both of them at the same time. Slowly, as if afraid the world might shatter, they both looked down.

Adrien was still holding her hand so gently. He started to let go, but Marinette held on. She could see the scar around his wrist, and gently traced the edge of it with her finger. Did it hurt? Marinette thought, when they took them from him? Do they still belong to him?

She gave Adrien’s hand another squeeze, and for better or worse, she didn’t feel Luka at all. Deep down, a part of her was always wondering if somehow, some trace of Luka stayed back trying to find her. As irrational as she was sure it was, there were moments when she wondered how much he could still feel.

Adrien softly traced a thumb over the back of her hand, just the way Luka used to do when he knew her anxiety was too much. It was Luka’s gesture, but Adrien was the one doing it now.

And suddenly, it didn’t seem so sickening anymore. It had never been Adrien’s fault— she knew that from the start. The difference was that now she realized that in a way, Luka had given them both a lifeline… even if he wasn’t still there. Another part of her realized that she had been isolating herself from Adrien because a part of her did blame him. And that wasn’t fair. 

“Are you okay with… with holding hands for a little longer?” Was it Marinette’s imagination, or did Adrien’s face look a little pink?

She smiled, and this time she didn’t have to force it. This still hurt, but it felt different now, like the ache when a broken bone starts to heal. Without even thinking about it she let go of Adrien and pulled him into a kiss. His hands Luka’s hands wrapped around her waist and for whatever sick, twisted reason, both of them felt right.

Chapter Text

“This has to stop, Ladybug!” Lady Wi-Fi screamed as they grappled for a cell phone with a familiar charm hanging from the case. “People need to know the truth about that bill.”

Gabriel yawned, rubbed his two days worth of stubble and reached into the half-eaten potato chips that were in his pocket. Dior is going to quit on the spot when he finds out I’ve been eating these. Dior, his personal trainer, had in fact quit six months earlier. Gabriel had been telling himself for months now that he’d start training again next week, but now the bit of flab starting to show made him think he actually should. Despite this, he bit into another potato chip. Eh, I’m on vacation until Emilie’s back. Another dark little thought came into Gabriel’s head. If she comes back. Again Gabriel began to cram more chips into his mouth, as if trying to choke his doubts.   

The truth was that Gabriel didn’t know why he’d even bothered to akumatize the Césaire girl. He told himself that it was over Ivan’s law (an upcoming bill that would make it harder for Akumas to be dragged off and unwound), but he knew it was just an excuse. Not a hundred scrappy little teenage bloggers would get that bill to pass. He had paid too much money to the parliament, and fear of Akumas was at an all-time high. No, the truth of the matter was that Gabriel just needed something to occupy his mind. 

Tomoe had stopped breathing down his neck ever since he called her out, Adrien’s recovery was going smoothly, and his beloved Emilie’s vitals were stable for the time being. Gabriel’s plan was on a fixed track; there was nothing to do but wait and let things play out in his favor. And he could hardly stand it.

His transformation into Hawkmoth was the first time in days that he’d worn anything other than boxers with hearts on them (a novelty gift from Amelie) and a pink bathrobe (although he was still was wearing those things; the only thing difference was the mask worn over a face that badly needed a shave). What was the point? The Akuma was either going to go rogue or be defeated, and he would lose his son. Gabriel put down his chips and looked up at the faint ray of sunlight illuminating his otherwise dark lair. Lair. What am I, some Saturday morning cartoon villain?

Gabriel grunted. He was indeed in a very  bad mood. He  finished the last of his chips, drained the last dregs of a lukewarm mug from this morning, and let out a deep belch. He then moved on to his seventh cup of coffee for the day. This is better than any soap opera, he thought as Chat Noir and Ladybug took down Lady WiFi. 

“Honestly, Gabriel, I left you alone for half a day.”

Gabriel shuddered out of his daze and caught Nathalie’s disgusted reflection in the glass of the window. “Don’t you have the day off?” he asked dumbly, feeling all of a sudden like a teenage boy who has been caught looking at a website he wasn’t supposed to be on. 

“No, Gabriel. Of course I don’t have the day off. Clearly you can’t be left by yourself!”

“I was going to shower later,” Gabriel said, wondering for a moment if he’d eaten any actual food today. He decided that could wait a bit when he heard the growl that came from behind him.

“Do you know who I just got off the phone with, Gabriel? Amelie. She’s demanding to speak with you.”

“Tell her I’m busy.” Gabriel said dismissively, wiping potato chip crumbs off his robe.

“Tell her you’re busy? Gabriel, have you met Amelie? She might not be as rich as you, but she can afford lawyers, good lawyers and private investigators, not to mention her connections with the press. And if all that doesn’t work she’ll march down here and break down the front gate herself. We need to deal with her now, or—”

“Nathalie, Nathalie! Look!” 

Nathalie was stunned. Gabriel-on-vacation had left the building and the ruthless Hawkmoth, who would tithe his own son and destroy Paris weekly to get what he wanted, was back. He was projecting a live feed of the local news from his Alliance ring, taking pictures of nearly every clear frame. “Nathalie, look. Look at the screen, right now.”

“Oh my God.” Nathalie said, looking at the screen. For most of her tenure working under Gabriel, Nathalie always thought that ninety percent of what he’d thought or said was utter madness. However, Nathalie knew when she looked at the screen that this was the ten percent. “It’s her,” Gabriel breathed out.  

On the screen stood Chat Noir, with his hand partly over the camera lens. “If I find out that this girl is in a Harvest Camp, then you’ll all be sorry.” The voice, the mannerisms, the way the eyes burned with anger. He was a spitting image of her. “Emilie.” Nathalie breathed.

“The little bastard was right,” muttered Gabriel under his breath— but not quietly enough to be missed by Nathalie, who had turned to face him in an instant.

“What?”

Gabriel gulped.

Chapter Text

It had been way too long since they’d been together like this, Rose thought. She and Juleka were on the deck of the Liberty, under the stars.

It all happened so fast. She’d come home and been told the news, that she’d finally been approved for a transplant. The treatments when she was little had worked, but not without damaging her heart. The few times since the diagnosis that she’d been healthy enough to have an invasive surgery, there had never been a match. When they got the news that they finally found a donor, her parents cried.

“Donor” wasn’t really the right word, she’d thought when she realized she was going to get a heart from a kid who was unwound. As much of a relief as it was to herself and her whole family, she couldn’t help feeling sad for whoever her match was. She didn’t say anything to her parents— she didn’t want to upset them or seem ungrateful. It was just on her mind.

Rose had tried to call Juleka immediately, but she didn’t pick up. Texting her from the hospital hadn’t been much better, which worried her. All she knew was that the Couffaines were having some kind of a family emergency. She hoped everything would be alright.

After a few days recovering in the hospital, Rose could tell how much busier than usual things were in the ER. It took a lot of asking before someone finally told her about the clapper attack. She assumed that was the emergency Juleka was talking about, until she got the file.

Even though Rose had no memory of it, a nurse told her that she’d asked about the kid who gave her a second chance when she was coming out from anesthesia. The file with one single sheet of paper, all that she was allowed to know unless someone or other gave permission to release any more, still had enough to make her feel sick to her stomach. She knew as soon as she saw the name, no matter how she tried to convince herself that it could be a coincidence. Anarka loved her kids. She wouldn’t do this. She couldn’t. Maybe someone else out there just had the same name. Was that any better, though, just because she didn’t know them? Probably not but, at least it wouldn’t be him… Not Luka.

Deep down, she knew. And she was sure she was a terrible person for having celebrated earlier, even if it had still felt heavy in her mind on the way to the hospital. How could she face Juleka again?

Going back to school made it so much worse. Juleka wasn’t there, and people whispered things about Adrien that made her want to cry, especially because they could just as easily have been about her. Everyone knew Adrien had new hands that didn’t belong to him. Rose had guarded her illness from everyone except Juleka for so long, and now she was even more afraid to let anyone know. The only one who might have understood was Adrien, but it wouldn’t be fair to put any more weight on him after everything he’d been through. She made it through the school days feeling alone.

And then, one day, Juleka called. She asked Rose to come over and said she couldn’t be alone right now. She apologized for not answering most of Rose’s texts, as if she was the one who should feel guilty. It made Rose want to hug her and never let go, even if she wasn’t sure Juleka would want anything to do with her once she found out.

She had to tell her. It wasn’t fair otherwise.

When the girls finally did have a moment alone, it took a few minutes for them to stop accidentally talking over each other. It hadn’t been Anarka’s fault after all— Luka’s letters said that he’d arranged this himself. The whole story was wilder than Rose ever would have believed from anyone other than Juleka.

She thought she could hold it together until Juleka brought up the surgery, told her she was so glad that she was going to be alright. There was no putting it off any longer, and she’d barely been able to tell Juleka through her own tears.

Juleka said she didn’t blame her, but Rose hadn’t been able to meet her gaze. She’d seen the way some kids looked at Adrien after his transplant, and she didn’t think she could bear to see that same horror or hatred or disgust from Juleka’s eyes.

The first few days that both of them came back to school were terrible. They barely sat next to each other in class, and although they ate lunch together, neither said a single word.

It had taken time for Rose to realize that Juleka really wasn’t angry at her. She had so much anger and grief weighing her down, but none of it was directed at Rose. It wasn’t until they’d hugged each other for the first time in so long, too long, that Rose realized something.

Juleka forgave her. She’d still lost her twin brother, and that would never feel okay, but after knowing what he did for Rose, it had given her some small peace of mind in a way. It hadn’t been for no reason, at least not anymore. Losing Luka was still so painful, but he’d given her the chance for Rose to have a long life. And somehow, she didn’t blame Rose for this.

It was still hard, but now Juleka and Rose were there again when either of them needed a shoulder to cry on. They wouldn’t be like they were before, but the shared secret, their connection, made them strong together in a new way.

Tonight the two of them were together on the deck of the Liberty. Rose was lying on some cushions, looking up at the stars. Juleka was curled up next to her, looking so peaceful for the first time since she’d woken up to find Luka’s letter. She had fallen asleep with her head on Rose’s chest, listening to her brother’s heartbeat.

Rose knew Juleka had forgiven her, but that did not mean she could forgive herself.

Chapter Text

“What?”

Gabriel winced as Nathalie’s tone bit into him. “It was nothing, Nathalie. Just a bit of a rumor—”

“Gabriel. Who was right?” She subconsciously ran a hand over her back. “It was Felix, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He knew too much, Nathalie. I told you that already.” Gabriel was trying to make a break for the door, but Nathalie blocked him with her cane (it had been a harder couple of days than usual, and she’d found herself needing it more and more). Her icy stare had him frozen, not daring to push her cane out of the way or, heaven forbid, step over it.

“Felix attempted to…” He paused, trying to think of a way to word it that didn’t make him look bad. “…coerce some favors from me, and he offered some information that he claimed to know. Most likely he was making up the entire thing—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nathalie repeated again, her voice filled with cold rage. When Gabriel fell silent, she groaned. “We might have a lead. Gabriel, you might not have to unwind your own son, let alone play any more of your ridiculous games! It’s so simple. All we have to do is go in when he’s sleeping and find the Miraculous! Gabriel, we could have had this done— when did Felix tell you? Two, three months ago?”

Gabriel stared at Nathalie and blinked a couple of times, as if he hadn’t heard a thing she just said. Growling, she pushed her way past him and sat right down at his console. Her fingers flew over the keys, knocking over the last of the junk food in the process.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked from behind her shoulder, a little afraid to move.

“The same thing that you’ve been wasting our time with.” Nathalie didn’t even look at him as she pressed the button. “You want to play with your Akumas? Fine. We’ll play with your Akumas.”

The force field that kept the butterflies inside began to flicker, and Gabriel’s eyes were drawn to the jewels of his collection.  He’d been experimenting for a few weeks, making his dark butterflies bigger than ever and so powerful that he didn’t dare touch them himself. The Megakumas, as he called them, might be too powerful to rein in.

“Nathalie, you can’t just— What are you doing? Nathalie?”

“Just imagine it, Gabriel. A million butterflies swarming Paris, and the best part; thousands of your Alliance rings capturing them coming straight from the Agreste residence. Awful lot of questions you would have to answer, right?” 

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Gabriel said, heart racing. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Emergency Akuma release activated in T-minus 30 seconds, an automated voice chimed (Emilie’s, of course— he used hers for everything). 

“Nathalie, please don’t.” Gabriel begged.

“Tell me the truth.” Nathalie’s finger hovered over the release switch.

“I was thinking…” he said,

 …twenty-two, twenty-one…

in a tone a bit higher than he would have liked, “that my nephew is a manipulative little bastard who makes up whatever suits him.” He forced a smile as the countdown continued in the background. “Really, how could he possibly know Chat Noir and Ladybug’s identities—”

sixteen, fifteen, fourteen…

“He told you he knew them both?” Nathalie’s grip on her cane tightened so hard that Gabriel was sure it was going to snap in her hand.   

“He was lying,” Gabriel protested meekly.

ten, nine, eight…

He took a step back from Nathalie even though it took him farther from the controls. “How could he know that?!” 

Two, one… Emergency Release aborted.

Nathalie stepped away from the computer.

“How can you know that? For God’s sake Gabriel,” Nathalie said, clenching her teeth. “How could you be so reckless? This could be information that could help spare your son’s life!” 

“It was a calculated risk. He knew too much!” Gabriel blurted out. Nathalie gave a look that made him cringe. The more rational part of his brain wanted to make himself shut up. However, another part of his brain noted that Nathalie was still standing awfully close to the control panel, so he went on.

“Besides,” Gabriel said, trying to make himself sound suave and self-assured, “I had to be sure the transplant would work. Sentimonsters have a tendency to dissipate, you know.” For what seemed to be the hundred time this week, Nathalie resisted the urge to ask what was wrong with Gabriel. He’s sleep-deprived, having a caffeine meltdown or drunk. Probably all three. Maybe playing with the Akumas wasn’t a good idea after all.

However despite his ramblings something he said, did catch her attention. “I had to be sure it would work the same as a human.”

“What are you taking about, Gabriel?”  Nathalie said through gritted teeth. “He’s your son, not one of Emilie’s artifacts. Biologically, he’s the same as any other boy.”

“And now that we know that for sure, I can save Emilie.”

“Are you out of your mind—?” Nathalie asked, almost laughing (partly because she already knew the answer to that, and partly because her other response would have been to grab him by the shoulders and shake him). “If you were so set on unwinding your nephew, why didn’t you save Emilie that way? Without sacrificing Adrien?”

“Because for all he thought he could fool me, they’re not identical.” He was rambling now, and Nathalie was actually considering turning the release button on again. It would certainly put an end to all this madness. “He had Colt Fathom’s blood type, not his mother’s. Adrien is the only viable match. He was made for this!”

“He was made to be your son, Gabriel!”

The argument was interrupted by an alert on Gabriel’s work tablet. He checked it, swiped through the security cameras for the twentieth time that day, and just like the other twenty times having to remind himself that yes indeed that Felix was dead  unwound, he told himself. Felix was unwound, just like Adrien will be unwound. I’m not killing Adrien. I would never kill Adrien… He shuddered and staggered backwards, clutching his chest.

“Gabriel? Gabriel!” For a second Nathalie thought he was having a heart attack. This time she really did manage to grab him by the shoulder, but she too staggered back in alarm. Gabriel’s recent diet of forgetting to eat for days at a time followed by intermittent junk food feasts had returned long and loud (and quite smelly) consequences. It was all Nathalie could do not to gag.

“You’re disgusting,” Nathalie said once the air had cleared slightly. “You’re not going to live like this forever, not if I stay employed here. Starting tomorrow-“

His phone chimed, and he turned to leave. “Not now, Nathalie.”

“You can’t just keep brushing this off, What about Adrien? Now that you know he’s Chat Noir-?” 

But Gabriel was already halfway out the lair. “It’s the surgeon who will be removing Adrien’s heart. She wants to know when we can schedule a stress test.” The doors to the lair opened and closed with a dramatic whoosh.

“He’s completely bonkers,” came a voice from under Nathalie’s coat.

“I know, Duusu,” Nathalie said, wrinkling her nose. The aftermath of Gabriel’s indigestion was still lingering.

“Felix, you’ve got to do something to protect your cousin.” Nathalie could have cried, seeing the small blue-feathered head that poked up from under her hood.

She had a plan, one that she’d been preparing for a few months now. Felix, ironically, had suggested his own plans for Adrien’s escape to her. I wonder what else he knew, Nathalie pondered, staring down at the little kwami. “Don’t worry Duusu, I will.”

She gave the tiny creature a pat on the head, and in response got a happy chirp. “But first, let’s spray some air freshener.”

Chapter Text

The idea of seeing Audrey Bourgeois in person today wasn’t like last time at all. As excited as Marinette was for the fashion show, she found herself wandering the near-empty venue instead of joining the crowd at the front entrance where they were clamoring for a closer look at the fashion goddess. Even from her out-of-the-way hiding spot, she could hear Audrey shouting and scolding at a new intern from halfway across the building. Marinette’s stomach twisted. That could have been me. It might have been me if I went with her. And then another unpleasant thought; That could be me getting yelled at by Chloé. The twisting in her stomach turned to mild nausea and she would have sat down to calm her nerves, but she could tell by the click, click, click of expensive high heels that the monster herself was headed in her direction. 

Without even noticing what she was doing, Marinette headed in the opposite direction, trying to put as much distance between herself and the sound of those heels as humanly possible. Would it be wrong to turn into Ladybug just to yo-yo out of here? As she fled, the halls and dressing rooms twisted and turned, and at some point  Marinette couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t lost. She thought about asking security for help, but something told her she wasn’t supposed to be back here. What if she got thrown out— or worse, taken directly to Audrey? I’ll just try to find my way back to the front as quick as I can.

Just as she caught sight of the familiar looking atrium, she heard another voice.

“But it’s not fair!”

Chloé. Marinette was a lot less bothered than she thought she’d be. Chloé hadn’t been as bad as usual lately, and her patrols as Queen Bee had even been kind of fun in a way. Still, it was hard to put years of bullying out of her mind, and Marinette would have preferred not to take her chances.

“Forget it, Corrine.” The edge in a familiar second voice had Marinette nearly frozen. Her heart started to race again. No, no, please no… She peered around the corner, careful to stay out of sight. Audrey was supposed to at the front entrance right now to greet the cameras, so she had to be leaving. Right?

“You’re not listening,” Chloé pleaded. She didn’t sound demanding this time— she sounded desperate. 

“No. You’re not going to embarrass me again.” Marinette flinched as Audrey pushed Chloé back with a manicured hand. Is she like this all the time? Even at home?

Audrey turned to leave without another word, but Chloé ran after her.  Marinette clenched her jaw. It was then she realized one of the little things that made Audrey so unsettling. Whenever Audrey and Chloé were in the same room together, Marinette could never muster the hatred she typically felt for her school rival. All that would come out in her mind was slight annoyance followed by a massive tidal wave of pity. 

“Please, Mom…”

I didn’t know Chloé knew that word.

“Just give me a chance. I can prove I’m exceptional too!”

Marinette couldn’t quite make out what Audrey said after that, but Chloé looked as if she’d been slapped. Audrey left for the reporters outside without looking back at her daughter.

This is a big mistake. Marinette took a deep breath. I shouldn’t do this… she doesn’t even like me… and she’ll be unwound in about two months no matter what I say now, so I really shouldn’t… Somehow, though, she couldn’t stop herself from approaching and tapping Chloe on the shoulder.

“What?” Chloé growled, whirling around.

Marinette took a step back. “A-Are you okay?” I knew this was a bad idea… “I accidentally overheard—”

“Get off my case, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé snapped. Then a little more quietly, almost to herself— “You wouldn’t understand anyway. I’ll prove it.”

“Prove what—?”

Marinette realized too late that the last part hadn’t been directed at her. Chloé made a beeline for the front entrance, pulling something small out of her purse.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!”

Nadja Chamack had her ever-present smile, never letting it slip that she already had a migraine. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her job— she’d dreamed of being a reporter ever since she was a little girl (even if she would have preferred the more hard-hitting, serious news over the recent gossip piece on some music star’s rumored illegitimate twin children). It was just that today she had to interview the most spiteful, vicious, condescending snake she’d ever known. 

 “Audrey Bourgeois is here at the launch of her long-awaited Clarity line. So tell us, Audrey; What inspired you to create this line?” 

Audrey lowered her sunglasses slightly without ever looking directly at the camera. “I’ve always had an eye for quality. When I see something I want, something exceptional, I don’t let it slip through my fingers.”

She turned her head just enough to cast an indifferent gaze over the crowd. “Today’s release is truly exceptional, as you can see, and I have spared no effort to make it perfect.”

Nadja missed whatever Audrey said next, because she had just managed a look at those almost-bluebell eyes that matched her earrings. Hadn’t they been gold last time I interviewed her?

Nadja’s first thought was that she must do pigment injections to match her clothes, but then she remembered her friend Ida, who also had the displeasure to interview Audrey once. Audrey had bragged about every aspect of her hair and makeup routine, but had ‘fired’ Ida for asking where she got her pigments done.

Of course, it wasn’t illegal or even socially unacceptable to get new parts for cosmetic reasons. Deep down, though, the idea made Nadja sick even if she’d never say so.

Just as Audrey was about to speak again, the door swung open from the inside, knocking her back a few steps. She stumbled, breaking a heel from her custom-fitted shoe.

“Off! Cameras off!” She turned on the girl who had just barged through, seething. “What do you think you’re doing, Carlotta?”

Nadja winced, both at Audrey’s screaming and the sudden appearance of her mini-me. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl, even if she was a little Audrey-in-training. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t imagine treating her little daughter Manon like that (she can’t even get her name right). It was a sneaking suspicion that Chloé was probably wearing white so that Audrey would always have young, fresh parts to draw from. 

“I have something to show you. I am exceptional and I’ll prove it.” Chloé pinned something into the back of her hair so fast that she felt the teeth of the comb scratch her scalp. No matter— this was more important anyway. “Pollen, Buzz On!”

A gasp rippled through the crowd as a miraculous transformation surged over Chloé, replacing pristine white in shimmering gold and black. She turned to the camera, posing with the spinning top in her hand like she’d seen Ladybug do with her yo-yo. “My name is Chloé Bourgeois, and I’m Queen Bee!”

Compared to most other Parisians her age, Chloé rarely used public transport. Even on field trips, she always had the limo take her if she could help it. It was the first time she’d ever been in the metro station on her own, and for a moment it felt strange in a way she couldn’t identify.

She shoved the twinges of disgust deep down (and the twinges of excitement even deeper). This was a mission. She wasn’t here to take a trip.

The train pulled up and stopped with a screech. Acutely aware of the way the crowds stared and whispered, Chloé weaved through the packed cars and made her way to the front of the train until—

WHACK.

Someone slammed into her, knocking her off her feet and onto the slightly sticky floor (why was it sticky?). Her hands went to the back of her head, making sure the Miraculous hadn’t fallen anywhere. “Watch where you’re going, you—!”

She blinked.

“Nathaniel?”

The terrified redheaded boy scrambled back, grabbing onto an empty seat to pull himself up. “Chloé? I-I saw you on the news…”

Since she put on her first pair of high heels, Chloé had always done everything in her power to show that she could make things happen. She was used by now to seeing people look at her with annoyance, anger even, but she was just starting to get used to being admired. Not just how Sabrina was or the way tithes were supposed to be, but for what she was doing right now. Strangers smiled at seeing her, strangers who didn’t know her father was the mayor or that she was a tithe. She was just starting to get used to it.

She’d never seen anyone look at her with so much terror.

Sure, there was the look people had when they found out who her parents were, or that look Marinette got from time to time when she did something to really mess with her, but even that wasn’t like this. Chloé wasn’t sure she liked it.

“You can’t just get in the way, you know.” She was back to being annoyed now. That was all. “Some of us have to be somewhere.” She stood up, not fully realizing she was between him and the nearest door until she heard someone shouting.

She dusted herself off and took a look through the window at the two uniformed figures shoving their way through the crowd. Being a tithe, she’d never feared them like most kids did, but she recognized the dull shade of green as soon as she laid eyes on it. She looked back at Nathaniel, who was frantically looking around for an escape.

She jerked her hand back from him, even though they hadn’t been touching to begin with. “You— you’re a—”

He flinched, perfectly expecting her to finish that sentence. Chloé had never cared much for unwinds and hadn’t seen why she should; she wasn’t one of them, after all. It didn’t matter much to her, or at least she wouldn’t think about it for too long.

But her former classmate looked exactly like Sabrina when the police car had pulled up in front of the hotel. True, he badly needed a shower, and Chloé would have never let her lackey go out in public before someone dragged a comb through that hair, but his expression was exactly the same.

“I— I didn’t…” He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. It was just bad grades. Really. I didn’t…”

Chloé could see the two juvies about to get on a farther car on the train. Once they did, there was no way they wouldn’t find who they were looking for. She looked at him, then back at the two figures shoving their way through the crowd. Aren’t I supposed to catch criminals? But…

She would never be sure why she did what she did next. Maybe it was impulse or desperation, or maybe she just hated the way he was looking at her. Steeling herself, she grabbed Nathaniel’s arm (remind me to take a very long bath when I get done with this) and dragged him in front of the glass-paneled sliding door.

“Chloé, no, please, wait—” He struggled to get free, but without his Akuma powers he was no match for her superhuman strength.

Chloé tightened her vise-like grip. It’s for his own good, isn’t it? She leaned out the door, making sure the crowd could see the squirming boy who was trying and failing to kick his way free.

“He’s in here, officers! I got him!”

Her voice echoed in the station. For a split-second, everyone was staring and nobody moved.

Then the juvies were shouting and rushing for the door where Chloé stood. They weren’t there yet, but in another thirty seconds or so they would be. She stepped back from the door, wincing as Nathan actually did manage to stomp on her foot.

“Will you stop that?!” She glared at him, glancing around to make sure nobody else was in the passenger car. “You’re fine.”

Without another word, she shoved him through the door on the opposite side. He looked up at her, stunned and sprawled out on the ground.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go!”

The sound of sneakers running on tile faded quickly into the distance. Chloé got a glimpse of the two juvies boarding the car as she broke into a run, but all she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears.

What is wrong with you? Who cares if he got away or not? You could have ruined everything!

It must have only taken her seconds to get to the conductor at the front of the train, but it felt like it couldn’t have been long enough. The conductor didn’t even have time to turn around before her hand was on her top. “Venom.”

Pushing the now-paralyzed man out of the way, Chloé grappled blindly with the controls. Whose bright idea was this to put all these in without telling people what they do? I thought they’d just press a button or something.

The train left the station, speeding down the tunnel. Chloé let out an exhausted sigh and slumped against the control panel. The train was out of control. She’d done it.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to make it stop.

Chloé winced, looking at all the controls and trying to remember which ones she’d messed with in her frenzy. She was starting to regret paralyzing the conductor before asking how to run this thing.

Wasn’t there some way Ladybug makes calls on her yo-yo? Chloé looked at her spinning top, wondering if she could try to use it as a phone without stinging herself. As it turned out, she didn’t need to worry about contacting Ladybug for help, because the train suddenly let out a screech and slowed down with a jolt. When she regained her balance, she saw Chat Noir up ahead bracing his staff across the width of the tunnel. Somehow she had an image flash through her mind of Ladybug at the back of the train, digging her heels into the floor as she struggled to hold the train with her yo-yo. But the train’s still moving, and if it hits him this fast—

She looked over the control panel again, and this time she noticed the bright red label that said EMERGENCY BRAKE. Grumbling to herself about how that label should really be a lot bigger, she pulled the lever and was immediately thrown to the ground once again by the sudden stop.

I did it. Chloé smiled to herself. She’d come here to stop a speeding train and save the day, and nobody could say she hadn’t at least helped. That was exceptional, wasn’t it?

Then Ladybug burst in, and suddenly Chloé was very embarrassed to still be on the floor.

Three camera crews from local news channels were gathered in the station, altering between shots of passengers making their way off the train and Chat Noir assisting. Every once in a while he’d look at the cameras and strike a pose, like a professional model on the catwalk. 

“We’re back!” Queen Bee stepped onto the platform with a flourish, followed closely by an exasperated Ladybug. “I’ve just saved the train.”

“No you did not!” Ladybug protested.

Chloé waved her off. “Fine, she and Chat Noir helped too. But I pulled the emergency brake!”

“You were only in there because you were paralyzing the conductor!” Ladybug retorted. “What were you thinking?!”

Chloé glanced behind her at the two juvies currently making their way into the station. “I had a good reason.” By now, Nathan had to be long gone.

“What reason?” Ladybug glared at her. “You wanted to save the train and look like a hero instead of finding an actual emergency to stop?”

“There wasn’t any emergency going on.”

“So you created one?!” Ladybug groaned. “Is that why you were on the metro?”

“No. I had a real reason.”

Ladybug crossed her arms. “What was it, then?”

Chloé hesitated, looking at the cameras. “It was because…”

“Because she thought she could do better at police work than the professionals.”

The voice gave Ladybug chills even before she saw the uniform. She slowly looked up at the two juvies who were now standing behind Chloé. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t make her heart stop racing.

The other juvie-cop huffed in annoyance. “She interfered with an active pursuit of a fugitive. Tried to play hero by catching the kid herself.”

“What? You—” Ladybug turned on Chloé, feeling like she could throw up. She knew exactly what “fugitive” meant. “Wh— Why would you do that, Chloé?! Why would you go after him like that? What’s wrong with you?!”

Chloé didn’t say anything. Ladybug struggled to hold back her nausea at the idea that she’d actually trusted her with a Miraculous. What was I thinking? How could I believe she’d changed?

She held out her hand, shaking slightly. “Chloé, give me the Bee.”

Chloé must have been pleading, but Ladybug couldn’t hear any of it over the roar of her own heartbeat in her ears. This was all her fault for using another temporary holder after how the last two turned out. Alya, Luka and now Chloé…

Some part of her brain registered that Chloé was crying. She didn’t like hearing anyone like this, even her old bully, but there was no other option. Queen Bee’s identity was public, and no matter what she’d done after that, it wasn’t safe to leave to leave a Miraculous with her.

No more recruiting other holders. Her hand tightened around the Bee comb. Chat and I have to do this alone.

Chapter Text

“Duusu?”

Once the little bird woke up, Nathalie sighed and pinned the Peacock to her shirt. It was the second time today she’d used the Peacock— unless it was later than she thought and it was already morning. I get a new spine and then go and do this… Her back ached, but it was time for drastic measures.

She had used the Peacock today. Gabriel wouldn’t have wanted her to do it, but if she could get the Miraculous, Adrien would be safe. He wouldn’t need her so much if he had Emilie to look after him. It would be worth it.

She’d been so absorbed with saving Adrien that she didn’t give much thought to her little creation. It only looked like Ladybug. Once the Miraculous were retrieved, everything would be alright.

Unfortunately for her, the real Ladybug managed to catch her double and steal the keychain Mayura used to control her. “Sentibug,” as she’d dubbed it, had quickly defected given the chance.

The police had assumed the fake was an Akuma, not an entirely unreasonable conclusion given that Hawkmoth’s Copycat had been nearly exactly the same. Gabriel had been horrified that Nathalie used the Miraculous again and insisted that she stop immediately. It wouldn’t be necessary to use it again, he insisted, especially since the juvenile authorities had already taken the duplicate into custody. There was no further action needed for it.

It.

What Ladybug had said that afternoon had barely registered at the time. “There’s nothing monstrous about her.” Nathalie had given her plan so much thought, but Sentibug had been very little more than a tool to her. Just a sentimonster. A creation of the Miraculous.

But wasn’t Adrien the same?

It had to be different. That was what she told herself for hours after all was said and done. Adrien had Emilie’s love and hope poured into him, and was for all intents and purposes human. Sentibug was just a snap of Mayura’s fingers. She hadn’t given any thought to making her other than looking and acting like Ladybug; anything else was up to whatever the Peacock filled in from her subconscious.

But what was the difference between Sentibug and Adrien? Only whether or not their creator had cared.

Nathalie knew was no point in denying it. It didn’t matter why or how she’d created Sentibug; she was like Adrien in every way that actually mattered. Am I any better than Gabriel, after this? She’d been willing to discard her like a broken part to be replaced. A hand ran over her back, wincing at what she was about to do.

I don’t even know where she is.

“Fan My Feathers.”

But I know what will happen to her. What could already be happening.

She refused to abandon the poor girl to the operating table when there was still one thing she could do. This was wrong too, but it would be over quickly. Mayura took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

She snapped her fingers.

“You didn’t deserve this either.”

Patient appeared to be a human female approximately 13–15 years of age, but no documentation was available to support this. When questioned on her age and origin, patient was evasive at best.

Other than a slight discoloration of the blood being drawn, the unwinding attempt proceeded as normal up until attempts were made at the first incisions. Patient’s skin was rigid and inflexible despite earlier demonstrating a superhuman range of motion. After extreme force was applied and an incision successfully made, patient was discovered to have an insect-like exoskeleton despite her human appearance. Patient was agitated but did not show surprise at this discovery. Further examination revealed the absence of most bones in the traditional sense and a highly durable exoskeleton. Organ structure was highly abnormal to the point of being nearly unrecognisable. Blood work showed a total lack of all human antigens, but compatibility with transfusions was inconclusive.

Monitors and equipment showed readings virtually indistinguishable from a typical patient, which was even more baffling since the patient’s extraordinary anatomy made these results nearly impossible. The patient had no abnormal levels of distress for most of this procedure, but became highly agitated suddenly and without warning. Medical staff present report that within seconds she “disappeared” and her current whereabouts are unknown. The operating room had very little evidence of a struggle and the table was pristine other than a single white feather found by a nurse.

Several experts with specialties in various branches of biology reviewed the case. The most illuminating perspective was that of an entomologist who noted that the patient’s organs greatly resembled those found in insects. The strongest resemblance was among the order Coleoptera.

— Journal des Sciences de la Transplantation, submitted for review

Chapter Text

This was the perfect way to spend a warm Saturday afternoon, Marinette thought. She and Adrien were lounging on a picnic blanket looking up at the clouds, talking about everything and nothing. It had been a good day, better than she’d been expecting in the moment when Adrien answered the door and asked in surprise if she was wearing pajamas. She’d been so embarrassed about forgetting to change and offered to run home or reschedule, but Adrien simply went inside and came out a few minutes later in a T-shirt and pajama pants. He was sweet like that, always trying to help her when she was sure she’d messed up.

She lifted her head from the cushion and looked at him, just relaxing for a moment. It was the first time in months he hadn’t been wearing white, and seeing him in something else made her feel better in a way that hurt to think too much about. It could have been like this forever. Just us.

“What are you thinking about?” Adrien asked, and Marinette hoped she hadn’t been thinking out loud. He’d done so much for her, and she didn’t want to make anything worse.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, me too.” He settled back onto the blanket, taking her hand in his.

It would have been a perfect date, pajamas notwithstanding, if it hadn’t been for just one little issue. After that day in the classroom, Marinette and Adrien had never managed to have another kiss. Someone would get too shy, or panic, or (in one very unfortunate case) spill their drink all over the café table and spend the last five minutes of the date trying to clean it up even though the employees insisted it was fine.

By now, nearly the entire class or what was left of it had joined forces to try to give Marinette and Adrien the perfect opportunity for their official first kiss. It was about the only reason some of their friends were even speaking to each other anymore, and the odd matchmaking truce still wasn’t working very well. Not that they hadn’t tried— the plan for a rain of red rose petals scattered by trained doves would have been lovely if Adrien hadn’t been allergic to Mr. Ramier’s rental pigeons… or if the rose petals still attached to the stems hadn’t amounted to a rain of thorns… or if the band hadn’t struggled without their lead guitarist and had the police called for a noise complaint.

More often than she’d cared to admit, Marinette had fantasized about the perfect, most romantic kiss. Now she was dating Adrien, but hadn’t even managed to work up the nerve to kiss him on the cheek. Maybe the perfect kiss just wasn’t meant to happen for her.

Still, though, she’d be happy without it if Adrien didn’t have to…

She shook her head, trying to push down that horrible reminder. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be okay after all. There was still one more thing she hadn’t tried yet.

The back door to the garden opened, and Marinette gasped to see Gabriel Agreste himself standing behind it (although she really shouldn’t have been so surprised; it was his house, after all). She tried to swallow her unease as she got her first glimpse at the fashion mogul that wasn’t through a camera. Gabriel looked taller in person, and somehow older, as if the screen didn’t pick up all of the gray in his hair or the slight wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. Something about those eyes was familiar in the way they held so much pain barely contained behind his glasses. I think we’ve already met, a part of her mind whispered to her, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out when or where.

Gabriel let out a long, deep sigh.  “Adrien, for the hundredth time, what are you doing out of your tithing whites—?”

Adrien looked like a kicked puppy. Before he could attempt an apology, however, Gabriel shook his head. “Oh, never mind. I suppose it’s alright for now. It’s not as if anyone’s going to see.”

At that exact moment, Marinette panicked as something in the air decided to make her sneeze. She tried to cover her nose and mouth, but it was too late to stifle it. Gabriel seemed to nearly jump out of his skin, as if noticing her presence for the first time. His forced smile reminded her of someone very unpleasant she still couldn’t quite place. “Forgive me, Adrien. I didn’t realize your little… friend was still here.”

Marinette sat up. “Do I need to leave?”

“No, you can stay.” Adrien blurted out.

His father looked exasperated. For a moment Marinette expected anger, but instead she saw exhausted melancholy quickly replaced with an almost-genuine smile. It’s still a very sad smile, she thought.

“Very hospitable of you, Adrien. Yes, Marinette, you are welcome to stay for dinner if you like.” He cleared his throat. “As long as there’s nowhere you needed to be.”

“No, I’m completely free!” Marinette blurted out.

“Very well,” Gabriel said, sounding more formal and clipped than before. “We will eat at 6:30. I will see you then.” He left the young couple, closing the door behind him. They remind me so much of Emilie and me in those early days, he thought, taking care not to look back so they wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Dinner was not what Marinette would have expected had she been asked to guess. She’d fantasized about meeting Adrien’s family almost as much as she’d stressed over the idea. In those moments where her mind spiraled somewhere between nightmare and daydream, she’d imagined an elaborate dining room with plates that shattered if you looked directly at them. She’d answer all their questions, almost like an interview, and hopefully by the end it would all somehow work out without her breaking anything valuable by accident.

Instead, she was sitting right next to Adrien as Gabriel Agreste made a small stack of pancakes (if you could call them that; maybe she should bring Adrien something from the bakery in case this was all he had to eat at home). Gabriel still wore his formal business suit, but with an apron that she could tell was nearly brand new. He tried to smile at her, but it came off forced and unnatural. “Marinette, right? Do sit down, I’ll have yours ready in a moment.”

The pancakes were terrible. Uncooked lumps of flour fell out onto her plate, and the ones that held together were somehow both cold and burnt to a crisp around the edges. But that didn’t much matter since the twisting in Marinette’s stomach kept her appetite at bay. She wondered if it would be rude not to eat any, especially since she was too nervous to get anything down at all. Maybe once she asked the question, she’d be able to eat.

“You two go wash up. Adrien, I’ll have your pancakes ready when you get back.”

Adrien immediately got up to leave, but Marinette hung back. Her heart was pounding even harder than it had been earlier, in those moments where they’d almost managed to kiss again. 

Gabriel looked up from the pan. “Marinette, you aren’t going to wash your hands?”

“No— I mean, yes, but not right now— I mean—” Marinette tried to control the tremor in her voice. This might be the only chance she would ever have to talk to Gabriel Agreste alone.

She took a deep breath, or tried to. “Actually, sir, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh?” Gabriel used the spatula to scrape a badly burned pancake out of the pan.

“Yes…” This was a terrible idea, she was sure of it. Still, ever since she and Adrien had been able to talk to each other again, he’d been telling her how different his father was after he got hurt. Adrien even said they hadn’t been close like this since losing his mother. Maybe, just maybe, one more tiny push would do it.

“Marinette? Can you hear me?” Gabriel’s voice snapped her out of her head. “I said, what did you want to ask me?”

Marinette could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She thought she heard somebody say something, and saw Gabriel drop the spatula he was holding, but it took her a moment to realize what she’d heard.

“Please don’t tithe Adrien.”

The door into the kitchen opened, and Marinette suddenly realized she was the one who’d said it.

She looked behind her at Adrien, and a panicked part of her wondered if he’d overheard. But no; he simply pulled out his chair and sat down without noticing a thing.

Gabriel recovered first. “Adrien, go to your room.”

Adrien flinched. “Wh-”

“Marinette and I have something we need to discuss. I’ll let you know when you can come back.” All the warmth from earlier was gone as he ran a thumb over his wedding ring. “Now go.”

Adrien left without another word, looking back over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. The click of the doorknob and the hissing of the oiled pan were the only sounds in the kitchen.

Marinette felt herself shrinking down into her chair. She was sure she’d made everything worse. The long, heavy sigh Gabriel let out seemed to confirm it.

Then to her surprise, he picked up the mixing bowl and poured another helping of batter into the pan.

“I know it can be hard to understand.” Gabriel’s melancholy tone made Marinette’s heart race again, but out of hope instead of fear. Could he actually be thinking about…?

He gave her a sad smile. “You’ve had a little crush on my son for some time, haven’t you?”

Marinette’s cheeks burned the color of a ripe strawberry, and she couldn’t manage to make a sound as he continued. “Teenagers in love, I know how it is. It feels like that little crush is your whole world until you see the bigger picture.”

He stepped back from the stove slightly. “You see this pancake? It's your future. If it's not big enough for you, I can make it just the way you like. Simply tell me what you want. Double pancake? Triple pancake? With jam, maple syrup, bananas? I remember that hat you made for the contest a few months ago. You’re a talented designer, and I could see a future for you in my company.”

He paused for a moment. “Maybe someday, your company.”

Is he offering me…? He can’t be, right? Marinette tried desperately to get herself to say something, anything, but what could she even say to being offered everything she had ever wanted?

“I’ve worked hard for what I’ve built.” Gabriel flipped the pancake, and Marinette wondered briefly if he’d used the same spatula he dropped on the floor. “Everything I’ve built has to go somewhere, and when I can no longer do this, I need someone who will. No matter how the lighting can be made to look, I’m getting older.” He sighed, looking down at the pan. “And… I’m going to be alone in this.”

“You don’t have to be,” Marinette finally managed to tell him. If he doesn’t want to be alone, he can just not give up Adrien.

He gave her a sad smile, and it took her too long to realize he hadn’t taken it the way she’d meant it. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. I can start you off with an internship—  now or when you’re a little older if you prefer. Nathalie and I will make sure you learn everything you need to know. You’ll move up in the company very quickly, and before you know it, the daughter of the local bakers could become the world's greatest designer. You can have whatever you want with your pancakes.”

He transferred the pancake to a plate and switched off the stove, less energetic now than before. “The only thing you won't be able to do with that pancake is share it with Adrien.”

“He doesn’t want to do this.” Marinette could hear her voice starting to shake. “You don’t want to, either. Please.”

“That… isn’t the point.” Was it her imagination, or did something like pain flash behind his eyes for a moment? “Life is like fashion. It’s not about what you want, or even about what I want. It’s about what I need other people to want.”

“You're wrong.” She’d had sort of similar debates with Chloé, although even those hadn’t been this… strange. “Fashion is about listening to people, it's about understanding who they are, what excites them and creating something that will help them express their inner world. Help them connect with others and make their dreams come true.” Her eyes lit up, the way they always did when she was about to add something to her sketchbook.

Gabriel chuckled coldly. “No, that's not fashion. That's making dresses for your dolls. Fashion is an industry that makes people believe they need what’s in front of them— and they will, as long as they see it enough in all the right places. If they’re told my son is celebrated for being brave and heroic, he is. If someone won’t accept it, well… what they think won’t change a thing. You may think you have a choice, but all you have is the illusion of choice. Adrien has a destiny, and whether we like it or not, that destiny does not include sharing pancakes with you.” There was an edge to his tone that nearly made Marinette’s head split with a pounding, disorienting pressure. Where did I hear that before?

Then Gabriel let out a deep, long sigh, and the deja vu was gone along with the air of haughty pride. “My son will be tithed by the end of next month. No matter how much it pains me, he has to be tithed. I know you don’t understand, and I don’t expect you even could. But I can’t let down those who need him.”

Marinette managed to shake her head. “I-I need him too. Please don’t do this. We’re in love.”

“No, you don’t need him. You couldn’t understand what it means to need him.” Gabriel was leaning on the counter for support, resting his head on his hand. “You think you love Adrien, but you're just under the spell of this world I've created. A world where Adrien is the star, shining high above. A world where you're just part of the crowd below looking up at him until he has to fall… and the impact will be greater than you can fathom.”

He drew himself up to his full height again, picking up the plate that sat next to the stove. “Adrien is a tithe. That’s why nothing can ever happen between you two. But having no future together doesn’t mean you can’t have a future at all.”

He slid the now-cold pancake across the island. “The only part that’s up to you is this – either you eat this pancake and have everything except Adrien, or you refuse the pancake and you'll have nothing except your childish crush.”

With a clink, he set a fine china serving dish covered in glass bottles and handmade jars next to the plate. “So, will you take a pancake with syrup or jam? I recommend jam. It's clementine, slightly bitter but with a note of sweetness.”

Marinette stared down at the plate. “I... think I lost my appetite.”

She picked up her sketchbook and her purse, then headed for the front door. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was very wrong with Gabriel Agreste. One moment he was a father who didn’t want to lose his only child, and the next he seemed streaking-through-Paris-in-tights crazy (Marinette knew what that was like). Her head pounded like her mind was scrambling for a missing piece of the puzzle that would make all this make sense. Why does it feel like I’ve been here before?

Gabriel had been… alarming, but Marinette agreed with him on one point; she would have gladly never set foot in the mansion again. Before she left, though, she had to check on Adrien.

She found the way to his room without even trying. The door was already slightly open, and she could see him nervously watching. “Are you okay? I thought I heard arguing coming from the kitchen, but I wasn’t sure.”

What was she going to say? I tried to save you, and your father offered and then threatened to take away the career I don’t even really have yet? “Don’t worry about that. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The door opened all the way and Adrien stood on the threshold. “I wanted to go check, but F— Dad told me to wait in my room, so…” He didn’t seem like he was making an excuse— more like he expected it to have been genuinely impossible to leave. What kind of security does this place have?

“Adrien, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

She wanted to say more, but Gabriel had caught up and stood behind her. She slowly looked up at him.

He did not smile, or even pretend to. “Marinette, I think you need to leave.”

She very much wanted to leave, but hesitated. Turning back to Adrien, she gave him a hug. He leaned into it like he hadn’t had one for weeks. “I’ll see you at school on Monday, okay?” Her heart was pounding, but she made herself smile. “I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.”

She meant every word.

On her way out the grand front door, she stopped one last time to call out to Adrien’s father. “You know what the problem is with your pancakes? Way too much flour, not enough butter. Just because nobody tells you it’s wrong doesn’t mean it’s right. And that's the good thing about being a baker's daughter— I don't even need to try them to know that they're tasteless.”

She closed the door behind her, made it through the gate and then sat down, shaking. 

“What have I done?”

Once their dinner guest was gone, Gabriel turned to a very confused Adrien. “You are not to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng again. Do you understand?”

“What? Why?” Adrien was completely baffled. “I thought you liked her. You even invited her to have dinner with us—”

“Adrien, I am your father. Don’t talk back to me.” Gabriel’s thumb unconsciously ran over his wedding ring, on the patch of the precious metal that was worn slightly shinier. “She’s not good for you, and I don’t want to see—”

“Gabriel. That’s enough.”

Nathalie emerged from the study and made her way over with the aid of her cane. She was taking uneven steps, gritting her teeth a little as she walked and somehow seemed even scarier than Gabriel.

“Oh… there you are.” Gabriel adjusted his flour-covered tie. “I thought you were doing your physical therapy.”

“Forget about that,” Nathalie snapped. “You are not going to ban Adrien from seeing whoever he likes.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Gabriel insisted. “She’s a bad influence on him and could jeopardize everything!”

“They are fourteen years old, Gabriel. I guarantee nothing about her is as threatening as you think it is.”

With that, Nathalie made her way to the front door to apologize to Marinette, but she was no longer there.

Chapter Text

“Do you think Marinette’s not comfortable around me?” asked Adrien from his seat on the bench. With his tithing whites, he was the only one at the pool who wasn’t in a swimsuit— not because he wasn’t allowed (swimming was highly encouraged for tithes due to the exercise benefits without being too hard on the joints, and besides, Nathalie had been on Gabriel’s tail about making sure Adrien got to do what he wanted), but because he didn’t feel like getting in the water today. He’d only come because he needed to talk to the only other person he knew who’d gone out with Marinette— or at least he thought so. Nobody would give him a straight answer and he knew asking Marinette would embarrass her.

“What are you talking about?” Kim yawned as he leaned against the edge of the pool, his hair plastered to his forehead. He’d refused to get a haircut for months since sitting in the chair reminded him of getting tattoos with Alix. “You two are perfect for each other. You’re like the best couple ever.”

“Hey!” The swimmer in the next lane splashed him playfully.

Kim laughed. “Oh yeah, sorry. You’re in second place to me and Ondine.”

Adrien sat back and sighed. “I just… really, really like her. I think she used to be really uncomfortable around me. She’d never talk to me for very long, and sometimes she’d make all kinds of excuses just to leave if I was there.”

Ondine raised an eyebrow. “Um, Adrien—”

“She did the same thing to me too,” interrupted Kim. “Then we went to the pool together and she just stopped.”

Adrien blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, it was really weird.” Kim wrung the water out of his hair, then frowned. “Hang on. Am I still wearing my Alliance?”

“Kim, not again.” Ondine shook her head. “This is the third time!”

“Is not! The second one got dropped in my energy drink, remember?”

“Please just get the waterproof upgrade.” Ondine held up her hand, showing him the waterproof Alliance ring she wore. “It’s really worth it. See, it even counts your laps, and keeps track of your stats in the pool.”  But before Kim could say anything, Adrien changed the subject back. 

“What happened at the pool? With Marinette, I mean?”

Kim and Ondine exchanged a look as Adrien went a little pink just mentioning his girlfriend.  

“Sure.” He thought for a minute. “I think it was the end of last year. It had to be, because Socqueline was there, so…”

“Him? You like him?…”

“Yeah… He’s always making me laugh. I’ve been trying to talk to him all day. I think I might finally be able to ask him out today. ”

“I don’t know… Some of his jokes seem kind of over the line. Be careful, okay, Marinette?”

“I will. Don’t worry, Socqueline.”

“Yeah, she asked me if I wanted to meet her somewhere and I said the pool, so we did.” Kim shrugged. “I didn’t know what else she wanted to do, so Chloé said I should surprise her and—”

“Wait,” Ondine stopped him. “Chloé Chloé? Bourgeois?”

Kim nodded sheepishly, and Adrien felt sorry for Marinette. If I were anyone other than myself, I wouldn’t trust Chloé with anything. Chloé had been his only friend his own age before he was allowed to go to school, but he’d seen how she treated other people by now. Sometimes he wondered why she was so different around just him.

Ondine groaned. “Why would you take advice from Chloé for your date with Marinette?” 

Kim, who had been trying to shake the water out of his ruined Alliance ring, dropped it on the tile floor where it cracked. “That was a date?”

(Adrien felt very sorry indeed for Marinette, and wondered what it would be like to have a crush on someone who had no idea about it.)

Kim laughed nervously. “Well, I guess that explains what happened next…”

“You did WHAT?!”

“I thought she’d laugh!” Kim protested. “How was I supposed to know she’d freak out and fall off the diving board?”

“Because you gave her a jewelry box full of live spiders!” Ondine splashed pool water in his direction. 

“Chloé said girls like it when you get on one knee, compliment her and give her jewelry! And she said Marinette thought my jokes were funny, so…”

“What girl would think that was funny?”

“Alix would have,” muttered Kim.

“You and Alix never dated,” Ondine scolded him. “It’s completely different— wait, you gave Alix a box of spiders too?!”

“No way,” Kim assured her. “She’d have seen it coming.”

Ondine groaned. She really did love her boyfriend, but sometimes she wondered about his judgement.

Adrien just sat there, stunned. “Marinette fell off the diving board? Was she okay?”

“Oh yeah, she was fine,” Kim responded. “She just fell in the pool and ran off.”

Ondine shook her head. “We are going to talk about this.”

“Why?” Kim shook his head, trying to get the water out of his ear.

“Don’t you remember why Socqueline didn’t show up at school the next week?”

“Yeah…” Kim’s face clouded over, but he still looked confused. “Why, what does Socqueline have to do with it?”

Chloé stood just outside the pool, snickering at the footage. It was a bit of work to set Kim up with the spiders and then follow him after school, but so worth it. “And now to post this…”

“Oh no you don’t!” Flying in from out of nowhere, Socqueline swatted the phone from Chloé’s hand moments before she could post it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chloé growled, picking up the shattered phone. It was nothing to have her father buy her a new one, but the video was gone now— she hadn’t had time to upload it yet.

“What did Marinette ever do to you?” Socqueline retorted. “Why are you always trying to do something to her?”

“This doesn’t concern you,” snapped Chloé.

“It does when you set my friend up to get hurt.” Socqueline glared at her. “Just because you’re a ticking time bomb doesn’t mean you can treat people like that.”

“Chloé complained so much about the “attack” that the principal suspended Socqueline for two weeks,” Ondine reminded him.

Kim shook his head. “No, she didn’t come back because she got unwound.”

“Why do you think that was?!” Ondine was out of the water and drying off, even though the pool didn’t close for three more hours. “Her parents found out she was suspended for attacking a student and stealing her phone. Do you think any parent on the planet would hear her out first?”

“Wait, that was why?” Kim stopped trying to force his broken Alliance ring back onto his hand. “Are you sure?”

“Kim… Oh no…” Ondine’s voice softened a little. “You didn’t know?”

“That couldn’t have been it. No way.” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean… It was a joke. It was just a joke.”

Ondine tried to tell him something, but he’d already gone underwater and was swimming another lap across the pool. I didn’t mean it. It was just a prank. I was just messing with her a little… just like I was messing with Ivan… His lungs burned, but he refused to come up for air. All his focus was directed on reaching the other side. Alix too. We were just trying to have fun, and I got her unwound. Lila was right. I did that…

His ears were full of water, and he didn’t hear Ondine and Adrien (who had finally snapped out of a stunned haze) calling out to him. He never saw the black butterfly either as it fluttered through the pool water like air and hit the back of his swim goggles.

What a sick joke…

No, no, not again. Adrien jumped to his feet in time to see Kim burst out of the pool, chlorinated water spraying off a pair of dark wings. Laughing and muttering to himself, the Akuma broke through the wall and escaped into the city streets.

Adrien stared at the vaguely Kim-shaped hole in the wall for a few seconds, confused. The exit doors are five feet to the right…

He got up and dug his phone out of his messenger bag. Nathalie always checked on him when there was an Akuma nearby— she must have Alya’s app or something. I’d better text her and say I’m taking shelter. Otherwise she might come looking for me.

He’d barely had time to unlock his phone when a soaking wet hand wrapped around his wrist. A moment later, Adrien was very glad Marinette hadn’t been there to hear the high-pitched shriek he’d let out. It wasn’t an Akuma— it was Ondine.

They’d only met once before, when he was Chat Noir and she was Akumatized. It was lucky that Syrena hadn’t even looked human, let alone recognizably herself. She let go of his arm, but stepped closer, not letting him leave.

“I know what you’re about to do.” Despite the cardiologist’s clean bill of health from the day before, Adrien’s heart nearly skipped a beat. Ondine’s hushed, low voice didn’t help matters. How could she recognize me? I was only there for a minute after she changed back.

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to hide his panic at being discovered and fear that his Lady might already be facing the new Akuma alone.

“I know it’s about Kim.” Ondine looked around, making sure that everyone else had either already cleared out or was too distracted to hear her. “You can’t call on him. Please. It’s not like you think.”

“W-what?” Adrien’s mind raced, trying to work out what she meant.

“Look…” Ondine dropped her voice even lower now, to a whisper Adrien had to lean in to hear. “Not all unwinds are like what you see on the news, okay? Just because he’s not…” she gestured awkwardly at his white clothes, “…doesn’t mean he deserves this.”

Adrien felt sick. She thinks I’d…

“He’s not a criminal, okay? He’s...  I know he’s done some really dumb stuff, but…” Ondine swallowed. “He couldn’t help being Akumatized.”

“I know how it works—”

“No, you don’t!” Ondine jumped back, seemingly startling herself by how loud she’d been. “It’s not an honor for the rest of us, okay? And it’s never for the best. Please don’t tell anyone it was him.” Then, so softly he barely made out the words, she added, “I’ve been there.”

Chat Noir arrived to find Kim perched on a rooftop, leaning against what appeared to be a giant, perfectly round boulder. The scene was weirdly familiar— not because he was having another headache, but because of the old cartoons that played on the TV while he was in the hospital. Ladybug was nowhere in sight, and Chat reached for his belt to call her. Before he could, Kim turned around and saw him.

“Hey, you’re just in time!” The Akumatized boy looked like a winged archer, and he was making no effort to attack him. Instead, he put an arm around a stunned Chat’s shoulder and laughed like they were still friends about to share a hilarious joke. “Watch this!” 

Kim pointed down at the street below, and Chat leaned over the edge to see a café entrance directly under them and his Lady across the street, bracing herself for action. The angle of the canopy below looked like if someone decided to bounce something off of it, the projectile would fly across the street and land…

Chat sprang to his feet, but the boulder had already been rolled off the top of the building and went barreling down. Chat nearly felt his heart stop. Why doesn’t she move?!

But Ladybug stood her ground. With a flick of her wrist, she shot out her yo-yo. It wrapped around the leg of a chair like a grappling hook and dragged it into the street, a dazed-looking tourist still sitting in it.

If Ladybug had faltered for even a tenth of a second, she would have been too late. The boulder didn’t bounce off the canopy, but tore through the canvas like tissue paper, crushing the now-empty café table below.

“Aw, c’mon!” Kim grumbled, reaching for an arrow from his quiver. Suddenly all Chat could see was the picture in his mind of Marinette at the pool, shaking while her “date” laughed at her expense. He hurt Marinette, he tried to hurt Ladybug…Without another word, Chat pounced on the Akumatized boy.

“Knock it off, Ivan!” Kim complained as he tried to hit Chat with an arrow. He was too close to land the shot, and a burst of slime splattered against the next building. “You still can’t take a joke?”

“It’s not just a joke,” hissed Chat through his teeth. The two boys tumbled across the roof, like Hobbes tackling Calvin after school but with none of the playfulness. It was impossible to tell at any given moment who was on top of the crashing, hissing feral catfight, all as sirens blared in the background.

They were too close to edge of the roof when Chat managed to pin him down for a moment. “Cataclysm!”

Just before his hand could make contact with Kim’s goggles, a sudden force caught his wrist and dragged him back by the arm. He landed on his back at the other end of the roof with Ladybug standing over him.

“Oh… good to see you, Milady.” Careful not to touch anything with the Cataclysm, Chat shook the yo-yo string off his wrist. He managed a half-smile, but she was glaring at him.

“What are you doing?” Ladybug asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“What are you doing?” Chat protested. “I had him!”

“Yes, where everyone can see!” Ladybug looked around frantically before leaning in closer. “There’s a whole squad of juvies down there watching. Someone must have called them.”

“You saw what he did.” Chat still held his arm out awkwardly, trying not to disintegrate anything on accident. “You’ve been cleaning up his messes for a while, haven’t you?”

“Chat.” She pointed over to the corner of the roof where Dark Humor sat. “Look at him.”

Kim sat hunched over, hands rooted in his already-wild hair. His wings were more tattered than Chat had thought, streaked with grime and dripping wet. His eyes darted in every direction, and though the pink butterfly mask of Hawkmoth’s telepathy was absent, he argued with the empty air. His waterlogged Alliance was tangled in his overgrown bangs, with a strand wrapped around it that looked like it had been torn out from the roots. With a creeping wave of nausea, Chat realized he didn’t know if he’d aimed his Cataclysm at Dark Humor’s goggles or at Kim’s head.

Ladybug turned and began to slowly made her way to the other side of the roof. Kim looked up at her with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t been the one trying to kill her a few minutes ago. Ladybug had seen that look in too many people’s eyes lately. She hated that look.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Ladybug wished someone would say that to her. “Let me help you.”

Kim sat more still than she’d ever seen him. She slowly reached out her hand. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Shut up, Alix!” Like a panicked bird, Kim rose into the air. “I told you, I didn’t know!”

He nocked an arrow, which burst into flames. Chat caught it out of the air, relieved to finally use the Cataclysm. Now he had his hands free… sort of.

“Chat!” Ladybug grabbed his arm. “Why did you do that?! I could have dodged it!” She examined his hand and sighed in relief. “Looks like your gloves absorbed most of it. The Cure will take care of your fingers—“

She blinked. “When did you get fingerless gloves?”

Chat scrambled to think of an excuse. I’ve had them since I lost my hands, but I can’t tell her that… He had never been so grateful for an incoming arrow. It landed at their feet, releasing a green cloud that left them both gagging.

It smells worse than Plagg’s Camembert. Chat gave his opponent a flat look. “Stinkbombs? Really?”

Kim laughed so hard he had to land. “Oh man, you should see your faces!” 

The smelly green smokescreen was too thick to see through. It barely cleared in time for Ladybug to see the next arrow. She swung her yo-yo to deflect it, but it burst in a spray of sticky goo. No matter how much Ladybug and Chat Noir struggled, they were stuck to the roof.

We’re cornered. Dark Humor dive-bombed the heroes, making a grab for the ring and earrings. Chat’s baton was glued down, and the yo-yo was stuck to her hand. There was only one more thing to try.

“Lucky Charm!”

A small piece of something appeared in the air, and Ladybug managed to catch it in the hand that was less covered in goop. Her heart sank.

It was just a crumpled sheet of notebook paper, the kind that could have been torn from a school notebook. Lines of something might have been written on it, but the pattern made it impossible to read.

There’s got to be something I can do with it. Ladybug looked around the rooftop, frantically trying to come up with something it could do. Before she could find a solution, Kim snatched it from her hand.

“What’s this?” He landed and turned the paper over. The pink mask flickered over his face, but he ignored it. He looked up at the heroes, suddenly very pale. “Why do you have it?”

His head jerked to the side, unfocused eyes locked onto nothing. “Fine, Ivan, I’ll give it back! It’s yours! I don’t want it!” He stumbled, the last of the pool water dripping from his wings. “I only took it for a minute. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want it.”

“I can’t give it back.” He traced a pencil-drawn heart shape on the paper with his finger. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? I’ll make it up to all of you.”

Without a warning, he pulled Ladybug and Chat Noir free from the goop puddle. “There. We’re even, Socqueline.” He took off again, hovering just out of their reach. “I don’t know how to make it over, Alix. I’ll do it, though, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

The pink mask appeared one more time. “Dark Humor? What do you think you’re doing? Get down there right now and—”

“Shut up, old man.” Kim shook his head wildly, dislodging the Alliance ring stuck in his hair. It bounced off the roof and over the edge of the building, but he didn’t go back for it. He was already vanishing off into the distance.

Ladybug almost went after him, but she had about thirty seconds before everyone watching the battle from the ground knew exactly who she was. Chat must have even less time. She looked desperately up at the clouds, trying to find any sign of him.

“Ladybug.” Chat put a hand on her shoulder. “We have to go.”

She knew he was right, but the twisting in her stomach as she scrambled down a fire escape and into an alley was only worse once she was Marinette again.

What had just happened?

What had she done?

“Chloé. We need to talk.”

Chloé was in a pool chair on the hotel roof, reading a magazine with one hand while Sabrina painted the nails on her other. She barely looked up over the top of the next page. “About what?”

“Socqueline.” If Adrien had been listening to himself, he might have been surprised at how hard his tone was directed at his oldest friend. “The year before I came to school.”

Now Chloé actually did look up from her magazine. “How did you know about that?”

“Well—” Adrien almost told her the whole thing, but the image of what she’d done to Marinette flashed through his mind. “Did you mean to get her unwound?”

Chloé sat up a little, causing Sabrina to wince as the pearly white nail polish missed the fingernail and left a mark across her knuckle. “It’s not my fault her parents decided to do that. How could I have known?” She dropped back into the chair in a huff. “She was only going to get like a week out of school, that’s all. It’s not my fault.”

As much as Adrien wanted to argue, Chloé did have one good point. She couldn’t have known how someone else’s parents would react. He decided to focus on the other reason he was here. “You need to apologize.”

“To Socqueline? Why? It’s not like it matters to her at this point.” That last part was muttered almost under her breath, not snapped back like one of Chloé’s usual retorts.

Adrien shook his head. “I meant to Marinette.” He sat down next to Chloé’s chair. “Tell her you’re sorry. Not just for that date, but for everything you’ve done to her for all these years. I’m not asking you to be friends with her. I’m not even asking you to talk to her after this. Just tell her you’re sorry, and stop tormenting her.”

Chloé lowered her magazine. “What for? It’s not like she’ll miss me.”

“Chloé—” Adrien shook his head. “I can’t be friends with someone who treats people like that. Please just tell her you’re sorry and that you’ll stop.”

“Of course I’ll stop.” Chloé looked away. “She’ll get what she wants. Just a few weeks and she’ll never have to see me again. What’s the difference if I apologize or not? It doesn’t change anything now.”

“You still have a chance.” Adrien was pleading now. “Don’t you want to make it right? What would it cost you?”

“I don’t see why you care when it doesn’t make any difference.” Chloé held out her other hand to Sabrina. “There’s no point now.”

“I can’t believe you, Chloé.” Adrien stood up to leave.

After he was gone, Chloé sighed and dropped her magazine. She didn’t bother to pick it back up, just stared at the roof access door Adrien had vanished through.

“Are you okay?” asked Sabrina.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Chloé sighed. “I don’t think it ever did.”

Chapter Text

“Audrey, darling, please!” Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris was in his office on his knees clutching at his wife’s hand, begging. 

Audrey pulled away in disgust. “Andre, you’re going to scuff my new Alliance. You know how gold plating is.”

“Just—” Andre tried to keep his voice steady. “I’m sorry, darling… but we don’t have to do this, do we?” He looked up at her, hoping for any trace of sympathy. “Chloé is my daughter too.”

“And throw away your entire career?” Audrey’s voice was venom. “I won’t let you sabotage your chance at another term. Everyone knows she’s a tithe, and the public won’t put their faith in you if you go back on that.”

“But sweetheart…” 

“This is not up for discussion, Andre. For once in your miserable life, you’re going to stop being like those slugs you cram down your throat and have a backbone.” The conversation was over, just like every other fight they had ever had. Audrey won. “If there’s nothing else you wanted to talk to me about—”

“I want to adopt Zoe,” he blurted out before he could control himself.

Audrey slowly turned around, her hand still on the doorknob. “What?”

“She’s not in the public eye. Nobody would know if she was unwound or not.”

“So why does it matter, then? You know, once in a while I think you actually have a brain in that big head of yours, and then you say something like this. And I’m reminded of just how stupid you are.” Audrey turned her head in contempt. “You do know she isn’t yours, right?”

“Please…Let me adopt her. You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to, but please don’t—”

Andre felt hot tears coming to his eyes. He thought about fighting them but finally had to cave, cave like he always did. Cave to his supermodel wife who he knew only hung around because he was her political puppet to do with as she pleased. Cave to his spoiled little girl, who, though horrible as she was, was still probably the only person who would care if she woke up tomorrow and he was gone. Cave to the unwinding lobby and let them drag that upcoming bill through the mud even though all it would do is disqualify Akumatized kids for overrides. Cave to the Juvies and give them more power to crack down on every teenager who as much as stole a candy bar. Cave to Gabriel Agreste for his secret projects that he gave money under the table to look away from. Cave to everybody! Andre had been mayor for years, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had made a single decision based on what he thought was right.

Audrey is right, I am a spineless snail. And because of that, I’m going to lose everyone.

“Please, Audrey…” Andre struggled not to cry in front of her. “I’m not ready to stop being a father. At least let me keep one. Please. You’re gone so often and Chloé is the only family I have and even if she’s… going away, at least let me have one somebody!” 

“Get a goldfish,” Audrey said flatly, slamming the door behind her. Andre slumped over his expensive mahogany desk with his head in his hands.

“So, your life is spinning out of control?” There was a humorless chuckle through a connection blooming inside his head. “I know the feeling. Today you can do what so many only wish for: take back control of your life.”

The transformation was complete in an instant. There was no resistance.  “Maledictator, the world is yours. Whatever you want, say the word and it will be so… at least in the minds of your subjects.”

“No— Kitty, we’ve got to go!” Ladybug managed to grab her partner by the collar and half-lead half-drag him down an alley to hide.

He pawed at her, clearly worried. “Mrrp?”

Ladybug sighed. No wonder they make leashes for cats.

Maledictator had decreed that Chat Noir would act like a cat (well, more than usual, at any rate). Ladybug was frustrated, but in spite of herself it was kind of hard to stay mad at him when he was like this. He was so sweet. Without thinking, she gave him a scratch behind the cat-ears.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do now.” Ladybug put her head on her free hand, afraid to let go of Chat in case he got spooked and ran— or worse, clawed another juvie-cop while they were running. It wasn’t even hard for the city to turn on them— all it took was one decree from the Akumatized mayor and both of them were AWOL. In seconds, the city they’d given everything for had turned on them believing they were the Akumas. If they were caught, they’d lose so much more than their Miraculous.

Sirens grew closer. Chat arched his back and laid his ears flat to his head.

“Easy, kitty. Nobody’s going to unwind you on my watch.” But how could she say that when all she had left was four minutes and a Lucky Charm she absolutely couldn’t use, even in self-defense?

It sat at her side like it was mocking her. She’d never tried to hurt anyone in her life. There had been plenty of fights, but that was different; it was her and Chat trying to set the Akuma’s victim free. If it came down to it, there was no way she could use the obscenely huge firearm covered in red polka dots.

The juvies only carried tranq darts. That wasn’t a fair fight either way, but if she used this, the scales would tip too far in the other way for her to ever forgive herself. Or the city to forgive us, for that matter. Akumatized or not, if either one of them shot a juvie cop, they’d be hunted until they were both on the operating table.

As if reading her thoughts, Chat Noir reached out a paw-glove, batted the barrel and jumped back as if he’d awoken a sleeping snake. In spite of herself, she chuckled. “I’m with you on this one, kitty. We’ll figure out another way.”

The footsteps were too close, and the flashing lights were seconds from reaching them. Ladybug’s first thought was that the only way out was up, but the circling helicopter overhead would cut her off in an instant. Ignoring his indignant meow, Ladybug gently pushed Chat behind herself and stood up. I guess we’re going down fighting. Her fingers clenched her yo-yo so tightly that if she’d been Marinette, her hand would have been bruised. Maybe Maledictator will want to see us first to gloat, and we’ll have half a chance…

An officer in royal blue and dark green rounded the corner, armed with what she hoped were still tranquilizer darts. Having a gun aimed at her wouldn’t have stung so much if the person behind it hadn’t been Sabrina’s father. So Maledictator’s made them all his personal army…

“This is your last warning.” Officer Roger’s voice was monotone, and his eyes shone faintly blue. He’s not even the one really doing this. How can I hurt him, even if I have to?

The dart fired.

A brilliant blue light opened behind her. Someone grabbed her by the arm. Before she could scream, she was being dragged back so fast she barely had time to grab the gun (I can’t use it, but I can’t let them have it either!). Chat pounced after her, and the light flattened into a small blip in the air and disappeared.

A spray of tranquilizer darts embedded themselves in the alley wall.

“Let us go!” Ladybug spun around in a panic. Now it was her turn to be a scared feral cat— she shook and bit and clawed, trying desperately to get free. She fought with such force that whatever was attacking would have had a fractured skull— had they been only human.

“Whoa there, Minibug.” Her unlikely rescuer rolled back harmlessly (did she have rollerblades on?). She smiled, but it didn’t look more confident than Ladybug felt. 

“Where— How—”

Ladybug didn’t know she was sitting until Chat gently bumped his forehead to hers, purring softly. Her panicked daze was slowly fading, and the person watching kept a safe distance back. Marinette had no idea how long she sat there clinging to her cat-partner. Guess I’m lucky Maledictator made him a cat… otherwise I’d have to listen to his puns right now. After what seemed like an eternity, Ladybug finally sat up and took a good look around at her surroundings. It didn’t help her confusion. 

She and Chat Noir were somewhere white…  Blindingly white. So white and pure and bright that it made her eyes burn for a few seconds. They were sitting on might have been the ground, or maybe it’s the floor? Whatever it was, Ladybug couldn’t tell where it started or ended. Her eyes had adjusted by now and she could see a million tunnels showing places she’d been, places she’d only seen in her history books and some she’d never imagined. It must have been an infinite gateway, going anywhere and everywhere. 

Chat hopped up and tried to wander off to a tunnel that seemed to go on forever. It was hard to tell, but Ladybug thought she could see a very pretty, faintly familiar blonde woman on the other side. 

Chat made a dash for the tunnel, with Ladybug desperately chasing after him. “Bad Kitty!” she said, catching the end of his tail-belt just in time to stop him.

She heard a laugh from behind them. It was then she noticed their rescuer, a strange girl a few years older than herself or Adrien. Chat had once again gotten loose and he now padded over and rubbed against the bunny-eared skater’s hand. A burst of windblown red hair stuck up at familiar angles, and the pastel-blue skater gear somehow looked natural, even if it wasn’t what she would have pictured. Maybe in black or red, or electric green…

Ladybug felt like the world had stopped.

“Alix?”

The familiar stranger smiled. “Miss me?”

Her father knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder. “Alix…” His eyes were full of tears, but he managed to smile.

“Dad, I really didn’t mean—”

“I’m not angry at you, Alix,” He gently interrupted her. “I… I have something I need to give you.”

The two juvie-cops watched closely but didn’t interfere as Mr. Kubdel pulled a small object from his pocket. “I was saving this for your fifteenth birthday…” His voice cracked painfully, and Alix looked away.

“Alix, please look at me.” He pushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I want you to have this. Keep it with you as long as they let you.” He pressed a beautiful antique pocketwatch into her hands.

Alix felt sick just looking at it. It  was beautiful and delicate, something that belonged in a museum itself. He must have been saving it for a long time. “Dad… you should take this home… Give it to Jalil, he’d look after it a lot better than I could.” She tried to hand it back— hadn’t she done enough damage today?

But he shook his head. “It’s very important to me that you have this, Alix. Please.”

“But… I won’t have it for long. What if they won’t give it back to you?” Alix shouldn’t bear the thought of some thuggish, foul-smelling juvie cop having this treasure and selling it for beer money— or worse, some stuck-up official at the harvest camp keeping it as a trophy. 

He hugged her tightly. “Don’t worry about that. The watch is precious, but not as much as you are.” She could feel his tears dripping onto her back. “Just keep it with you, and remember how much your family loves you.” She could see it in his eyes; this was all he could do.

One of the juvies took the watch, looked it over and seemed satisfied that it was just an old watch. It was placed back in Alix’s hands, and as the car pulled away, she held it and didn’t let go.

“Your dad had a Miraculous?” Ladybug had never used the Miraculous of the Rabbit. Come to think of it, she’d never even seen  if it was still in the box or not. “How?”

Alix (or Bunnyx, as she’d said to call her now,) shrugged. “Never got to ask him. I accidentally turned it on, and—“ she waved at the portals “—I’ve been here ever since. Not exactly homey. Still, better than that Harvest Camp. I was only there for like twenty minutes, anyway.”

“But— the Unwind Registry! Your name’s on it! All your parts are listed on it!” Ladybug blurted out. She felt a cold chill at the memory of Kim’s outburst at having read the details and could still hear the glass shattering when he threw a chair at the window. Everyone saw it, but when Damoclès came down to question them, no one said a word. Then she felt a twinge of guilt— from the way she said it, she worried it sounded as if she was disappointed that Alix wasn’t scattered across Europe. Which was, in fact, quite the opposite of her feelings on the matter. 

But Bunnyx just laughed. “Do you know how crazy they are about security? They weren’t going to tell anyone they lost a kid and have no idea how! It would make them look bad.” She spun around on her rollerblades. “Besides, a week from now that place gets flattened by clappers. Or what they said was clappers.” She grinned.

Ladybug remembered the last encounter with Kim, and the day that she was sure Chat Noir let Evillustrator escape. (For reasons she couldn’t figure out, it felt like so long ago.) Some way to test your powers.

It was weird. What teenager hadn’t dreamed about burning a harvest camp to the ground? It wasn’t as if she wanted what went on in there to continue. Still, the thought of Kim with his silly bets or shy daydreamer Nathaniel doing something like that made her queasy.

It’s not their fault. They’re Akumas, Ladybug reminded herself. If anything, it’s yours since you didn’t stop them. And anyway, you don’t even know it’s them. That last thought felt colder somehow, especially when— just for a moment— Bunnyx’s satisfied grin reminded her a little too much of that day at the museum.

Ladybug suddenly wanted to change the subject. “How long have you been here?” Her eyes widened. “Wait, how long have we been here?”

Ladybug jumped to her feet, accidentally dumping Chat Noir (who had been purring in her lap) on the ground. He glared, then sat with his back facing her to show his indignation. Ladybug mumbled an apology, but she was preoccupied with her earrings. They weren’t flashing anymore, but she hadn’t changed back.

“Time doesn’t pass in the Burrow,” Bunnyx said, skating in rings around her guests (Alix never could stay still). “Figured that out on my first day… I think.” She hit her brakes, like she’d only just realized something very important. “I don’t know how long it’s actually been. I can’t keep track when I’m everywhere.”

“You could ask your dad,” Ladybug offered without thinking.

Bunnyx skittered back, almost losing her incredible balance for a moment. “I can’t. I can’t go back. They’d catch me, and they might catch Dad— I can’t talk to him.” 

Somehow, at the same time, Ladybug was acutely aware of how much older Bunnyx was than her Alix, and how young she still was.

“Hey— don’t look at me like that.” Bunnyx tried to laugh, but it came out as a sigh. “It’s not like he can’t hear from me. I mean, I leave notes and stuff at his dig sites in the past so he might figure out it worked. Hope he hasn’t gotten sick of me yet…”

That last mumbled part was cut off by Ladybug throwing her arms around her. 

“Always with the hugging, huh?” Bunnyx laughed, for real this time. “You’re still Ladybug, alright. Although… now you two are more like Kitten Noir and Minibug.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Alix, you grew four inches and that’s counting your roller skates.”

“They’re rollerblades, and I’m still taller than you!”

Chat Noir purred and rubbed at Ladybug’s leg as she peered around the corner of the alley. She crouched down— partly to stay hidden, and partly because she absolutely wasn’t embarrassed about unconsciously standing on her tiptoes trying to get an inch on Bunnyx— watching Maledictator on his balcony.

She looked at Bunnyx, who was leaning over her shoulder. “If you can time travel, can’t we go back and stop him from being Akumatized?” Her eyes widened as something hit her like a ton of bricks. “Alix— Bunnyx! You have time travel. We can fix everything! We can save them— it doesn’t have to happen in the first place.”
Her eyes formed tears of sheer relief without her noticing. “We can stop it all— We can stop—” 

Bunnyx swayed on her skates. “Let me stop you right there. Haven’t you seen any time travel movies?” 

Ladybug gave her an incredulous look, which faded when she saw how serious Bunnyx looked.

“If I mess with big stuff in the past, it might mess up a lot. The timeline doesn’t like it.”

“But you snatched us up,” Ladybug interjected, a little too forcefully.

“The Burrow did.” Bunnyx shivered as she stared at the brainwashed army, which was halfway done building a barricade around City Hall. “It usually never takes me to this time and place. I think it doesn’t like it here either.”

Ladybug scanned the barricade. It sat in the middle of the street, and even though it was too tall to see over, she could hear the workers on the other side still putting in rivets. If Kitty could use his Cataclysm, we’d be right through it…

That gave her an idea, one that scared her.

“Hey, Bunnyx?” She took a deep breath. “Can I have a lift?”

“Need anything up there?”

With a bit of awkward climbing, Bunnyx had Ladybug clinging to her back (no easy feat, considering that she was barely bigger than the girl she was carrying).

Ladybug nodded solemnly. “One more thing.” Her eyes fell to the fully loaded Lucky Charm leaning against the alley wall.

“Um, Minibug?” Bunnyx looked like a rabbit who had tunneled under a tree root to hide only for it to turn into a large snake. “What are you doing?”

Ladybug swung the weapon up onto Bunnyx’s shoulder. “What I have to.”

Bunnyx bit her lip. “Oh, kid…”

Ladybug took a deep breath and adjusted the scope. Her fingers tightened on the laser sight. “Hold onto Chat’s tail.”

She yanked the laser sight loose, letting the actual gun fall to the concrete. She wouldn’t need it. Like I’d ever use one of these, anyway.

She aimed the laser at the middle of the barricade. Chat’s eyes widened, reflecting the elusive red dot. He gave his rear a slight wiggle, and…

POUNCE!

Holding his tail-belt like a ski rope, Bunnyx was jerked ahead as Chat slammed his hands full-force into the wall. With a great creak, it began to tip over. Not all the way—the police cars lined along the street blocked it— but enough.

Ladybug moved the laser, making her partner chase it up the ramp. He ran at full speed, lunging at it with superhuman speed and strength (possibly even superfeline).

“Now!”

Bunnyx let go of the belt,kicking off on her skates to add a little more speed. The combined momentum launched her just short of the Mayor’s balcony… but just close enough for Ladybug to grab the railing.

“I’ve got you!” Pulling Bunnyx up with one hand, she flung her yo-yo around Maledictator. She only meant to tie him up, but the cord’s constriction cracked the shining badge on his trademark sash. A black butterfly shimmered, and then it was over.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

She turned to Bunnyx, who had been tense from the moment she hopped back into the city that should have been her home. It hurt to see fearless Alix jump at every sound and siren. “Are you okay?”

“Are you kidding?” Bunnyx looked up, her eyes shining in a way that somehow made her look like her old self again. “I’m great.”

She clicked her watch, summoning a portal again. “But do me a favor, Minibug.”

Ladybug nodded. “What is it?”

Bunnyx grinned. “When you find Kim, tell him he owes me that tattoo.”

Chapter Text

Since that day at his house, Marinette had barely had a chance to talk to Adrien. He missed most days of school the following week(either for doctor’s appointments or his state-mandated pre-unwinding counseling sessions). She knew it wasn’t up to him, but a part of her wondered if he might be avoiding her.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Chloé, who came into the classroom (late, as she almost always was lately) with a very familiar blonde girl in tow. Nearly dragging her to the teacher’s desk, she announced, “That’s Zoé and she goes here now,” before dropping into the seat next to Sabrina with a huff.

Miss Bustier sat stunned for a moment, then turned to Zoé. “I’m so sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was getting a new student today—“

“Not exactly.” Zoé shifted from one foot to the other. “Our mom said my sister had to take me to school with her. She… wanted some time to herself.”

“Half-sister,” Chloé interrupted, “and she said I had to take you with me because she didn’t want you around the place anymore.”

Zoé flinched, but didn’t correct her, and Marinette had that sinking feeling from her last encounter with Audrey again. “I’m not… enrolled or anything. It’s just for now. Is that okay?”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Chloé interrupted again. “Everything I do is okay. Nobody cares if I walk out. I can dance on my desk right now if I want and nobody will do anything about it because I’m a tithe and my father’s the mayor and it’s not worth the trouble!”

She was actually doing it, too. Marinette had never imagined someone dancing sarcastically, but somehow, Chloé pulled it off.

“Chloé, are you crazy?” hissed Alya.

“Don’t, you’ll get hurt!” pleaded Sabrina.

“Class, that’s enough,” Miss Bustier said firmly. “Zoé, please ask me if there’s anything I can do for you. And Chloé… I’ll walk you to the Principal’s office.” Her voice softened. “Please get down from there.”

Chloé glared at her. “So what if I don’t? It doesn’t matter what I do.”

Her teacher sighed. “It matters more than you think.”

Adrien hadn’t wanted a tithing party, but his father insisted. Gabriel Agreste was going to give his only son a proper send-off, even if the actual appointment (Marinette still couldn’t think the word without feeling sick to her stomach) wasn’t for another month.

The party of the year, held at Gabriel Agreste’s mansion according to the news. For rich, important people and their well-connected kids (and Lila, if she was to be believed). Marinette knew there was no way Adrien’s father would let her in the building. It wasn’t even that she wanted to go at all— she just didn’t want to leave Adrien alone through it. He barely even had time to text now, and she couldn’t just abandon him. The problem was that she didn’t know how to get in (except possibly to use her celebrity status as Ladybug, which she’d mentally filed as a hard plan B).

The answer came from Zoé one day after school. Apparently Chloé was going (because of course she was), and being Audrey’s daughter, Zoé also had also somehow received an invitation.

“There’s no way I’m going to that,” she’d told Marinette that afternoon. “It’s just— really messed up, you know?”

Not only wasn’t Zoé using her invitation, but she was all too eager to get rid of it (“If I lose it, nobody can make me go.”) She’d invited Marinette to take her mind off everything and go to the movies with her that night, but as horrible as the party would be, Marinette was determined to make it a little less awful for Adrien.

Dress code: White tie. 7:00 PM sharp. Entry will be refused without invitation.

She’d read the instructions on the back of the shimmering paper mask a million times. Luckily it was a masquerade theme, so maybe she wouldn’t be recognized. She’d managed to put together a solid-white version of one of her formal dress designs and styled her hair in a loose bun— a way she never wore it. At the last minute, she’d pinned a set of paper flowers and origami stars into it. Maybe it would draw attention away from the part of her face not covered by the mask.

Alya was covering for her— if her parents asked, they were having a sleepover. That would be true for the rest of the night, once she saw Adrien. To make sure they didn’t call and try to check on her, she’d taken an extra step. Whenever she spent the night at Alya’s, her parents had Date Night. Marinette had surprised them with a beautifully arranged table setting, complete with fairy lights, red roses and two wineglasses just a little too full of the good stuff her parents were saving for a special occasion. They’d be snoring or otherwise occupied before she even got to Adrien’s.

The Diamond Dance, as the magazines had taken to calling it, had security stationed at every door and window. Marinette gulped as Adrien’s bodyguard scanned the chip on her mask that read Zoé Lee. (Was it her imagination, or did he give her a small smile as she went in?)

The first thing Marinette noticed when she got inside was the lights. Upon her first trip to the Agreste manor, it was almost blinding. Now the grand mansion’s lights were toned low and the pristine marble reflected spotlights of deep dark blue or amber. Maybe these tinted lights will keep anyone from recognizing me. After her last trip here, Marinette had been informed that she was not allowed back over.

As Marinette made her way into the mansion, though, her fears of being discovered soon faded. How can anyone recognize me here? As far as she could tell, nobody she knew was here. All of the kids here looked like their parents were CEOs, politicians or celebrities. (Many of them didn’t speak French.) Despite bragging to the entire class about being invited, Lila wasn’t here either, which was just a little too satisfying. Just as Marinette was starting to let down her guard, she saw her.

Chloé was coming straight for her, and as if that wasn’t bad enough (in a strange way Marinette almost felt guilty about), she looked gorgeous. In a dazzling white designer dress and her blonde hair pulled into a tasteful ponytail, she looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. If she dances with Adrien, I’m going to scream.

“I don’t think we’ve met. You do look a little familiar, though.” Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin— she hadn’t realized Chloé was so close, and now it was too late to bolt without looking suspicious. 

Chloé leaned a bit closer, and Marinette struggled not to flinch. This whole stupid party is probably crawling with Harvest Camp surgeons. If they catch an intruder, they’re just as likely to take me in some back room and unwind me here as to call the police— But to Marinette’s relief, Chloé shrugged and drew back in what might have been mistaken as respect of personal space. “I can’t figure it out. Who are you?”

It worked? Marinette racked her brain for a fake name. “Uh, uh… Bridget.” Hopefully the loud music and background chatter would hide the nervous tremors in her voice.

Chloé rolled her eyes, as if Marinette must not have understood the question. “Your parents. How did you get invited?”

Marinette scrambled for a believable cover story, and decided on the truth. “They’re the owners of a confectionery company that caters to international customers.” Never mind that the international customers were tourists who wandered through the neighborhood looking for landmarks and snacks.

That seemed to satisfy Chloé, for now. “That must explain it, then.”

“Explain what?”

Now Chloé actually cracked a smile, even if it was closer to a smirk. “Candy companies always need PR. Factory issues, supply scandals, cavities or whatever. You don’t get out enough, do you?”

That smile. She usually didn’t see Chloé like that unless she was telling a particularly nasty secret to Sabrina.

Much to Marinette’s relief, before she could say anything that might get her caught, Chloé grabbed her by the hand and nearly dragged her into a crowd. “It’s good to have somebody cool here.”

Marinette’s eyes widened behind the mask. Out of all the things Chloe had called her over their bitter rivalry (some of which her parents had to explain to her), “cool” was one thing that she’d have never heard in a million years. Chloe was still talking as they moved through the crowd, but over the shock of Chloé being nice to her and the background noise, she only heard  “—too bad we can’t bring our underlings. I’ve had nobody interesting to talk to this whole night.”

This couldn’t be Chloé! Either this was Zoé playing some type of trick or she’d been hit over the head and forgotten her whole personality (which, Marinette was ashamed to admit, she’d imagined a few times). Chloé was acting too personable, too nice, too… too.. too human! It was almost like they were friends.

But as soon as they were deep into the crowd of kids, Marinette realized why her disguise had worked. She had thrown on one of her designs—a white party dress that she’d been meaning to hand-paint with patterns but never got around to— hoping the lack of color would keep her from standing out. It was working, and now she felt horrible for it.

Nearly every kid there, the children of diplomats and billionaires, wore white. Like Chloé and Adrien. Like me… Marinette felt a knot rise in her throat. Every kid in this room was a tithe, like lambs to the slaughter. She hoped the paper mask hid her horror and disgust at the parents gathered at the open bar, casually networking and not even looking at their children. How many of those parents had a drinking problem? They all had to be rich, super rich, especially to be hanging around Adrien’s dad. If one of them had a liver problem, odds were they’d take a liver from a kid just like the ones they brought up.

Or…

Marinette hated where her thoughts were going with this. She caught a glance at Chloé, dancing and laughing in her pristine, shining white dress, and almost vomited. She looks just like her Mom. I wonder—?

It took her a long time to find Adrien— he sat just out of the spotlight, between his father and Nathalie. A woman in dark glasses who she recognized from Max’s pamphlets on a tech expo was saying something to Gabriel, who kept a hand tightly on Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien shifted uncomfortably, and then shock spread across his face.

He saw me staring! Marinette knew her cheeks were red, just like before she could talk to him. Then it clicked— he noticed her, and from his expression he recognized her too. As soon as Gabriel let go of him, absorbed in some kind of argument, Adrien slipped out of his seat unseen and made his way over.

She lost track of him in the crowd of white masks for a moment, and then felt a warm hand in hers, with a thumb tracing softly over the back of her hand.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Adrien gave her a small smile.

“Neither did anyone else.” Marinette giggled nervously, and to her relief Adrien laughed along. “How’d you find me?”

“I’d always know it’s you.” Adrien smiled, all the way this time, and the butterflies were back. “Besides, when we saw each other, you were the only one who turned that shade of red.”

Marinette couldn’t help laughing. He wasn’t being mean; he was being playful, something he didn’t get to do as much as he needed. The night was more bearable than she’d imagined, because she got to see Adrien happy.

He stepped back, still holding her hand. “May I have this dance, Mi— um, Marinette?”

She nodded, and they twirled and spun across the alabaster floor. The music wasn’t the kind of slow song most people would dance to, but it didn’t matter— they were both in their own little world. No sneaking around, no tithing, no worrying what anyone else thought— not in that moment. They were just two kids in love having a dance.

Marinette was so happy to just have the moment that she almost didn’t register the shadow that flicked across the closest wall. When Adrien spun her around, nearly laughing, she got a second look at a girl about her age watching them dance. That wasn’t so unusual— she realized with a slight twist of anxiety that most of the crowd was watching her and Adrien— but this girl wasn’t smiling or whispering. She held a pearly white clutch purse like her lifeline, and something in her gaze was like a cat watching a hapless mouse.

The crowd shifted again, and Marinette lost track of her watcher. She turned her head to try to get a better look, but stumbled over Adrien’s foot and fell back with a yelp. Suddenly the spell was broken, and she was herself again. Not the mystery guest of the ball who was lucky enough to dance with Adrien, but plain old clumsy Marinette, on the floor with a rip in her dress and her borrowed mask askew, trying to hold onto a boy she was destined to lose.

“Are you okay?” Adrien pulled her back to her feet, but it was too late. Chloé had seen Marinette without her mask, and if that hadn’t been enough, the clumsy fall to the floor definitely had been.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” demanded Chloé. “And you’re not fooling anyone wearing white.” She looked as if Marinette had personally insulted her, which was strange considering which of them had spent most of her life bullying the other.

“She’s not a tithe?” someone whispered near Chloé. “Wait— tell me she isn’t…”

The whispers engulfed the ballroom like fire. Marinette caught the word “unwind” a few times, in voices ranging from disgust to the kind of pity you might have for a flea-ridden stray dog. Chloé, for her part, hadn’t said another word and just hung back. Was she just the normal one this whole time?

Across the room, Gabriel rose from his seat. “I thought I told you not to come back here.”

His voice was strangely level as he pressed a button on his Alliance ring. The Gorilla lumbered his way into the room and nearly dragged her out, giving a pleading Adrien a very apologetic look.

Marinette’s face had never been so red.

Adrien shoved through the crowd, trying to catch up to Marinette.

“Adrien, get back here!”

His father’s voice felt like it was paralyzing him. He made his way back into the room, every step dragging him down.

“You can’t do this to her!” Adrien shouted.

“This is not up for discussion.” His father glared, still well across the room. “I’m looking out for you.”

“You’ve never looked out for me,” Adrien muttered, louder than he meant to. A little spike of panic shot through him when he heard the gasps from the spectators. He flinched, but to his relief he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll be alright.”

He stopped. That voice wasn’t—

Suddenly the person behind him yanked him backwards, pinning herself against the wall with her arm firmly across his neck. “Everyone, stay back!”

His father looked like a ghost, and immediately reached for his Alliance to call for help.

“Nobody move!” his captor growled. Adrien was about to kick her and bolt, but he caught their reflection in the marble floor and realized two things at the same time.

One was that he’d been reunited with his fencing partner, who hadn’t come to class in months.

The other was that Kagami had a syringe poised just over the vein on his arm, matching the site where prick marks stood on her own.

Marinette was dragged down the long path to the front entrance and unceremoniously plunked outside the ornate metal gate, which slammed shut behind her. She huddled on the sidewalk and put her arms over her head.

On the off-chance she hadn’t just gotten Adrien in huge trouble, she’d still ruined their first dance, completely humiliated herself and given Chloé endless ammo. Why did she think this was a good idea?

The Gorilla was heading up the long path to rejoin the party… if anyone was still pretending that’s what this was. Suddenly, with all the brute force of a lumbering bear, he broke into a run.

Marinette sat up at the change in his footsteps. Now that she listened, she could hear what he must have picked up through his earpiece— distant screams followed by silence.

Adrien!

She jumped to her feet, and immediately realized that all the motion-sensitive cameras on and around the gate were trained on the Gorilla. Experimentally, she waved her hand near one. It didn’t turn towards her, much more occupied with the huge, fast-moving person already inside the grounds.

“Tikki, Spots On.”

It didn’t matter that the cameras could see her now. She was Ladybug, and she’d go in through the skylight she’d danced under with Adrien. The Akuma had to be in the ballroom, so she might even be able to see him— maybe even get him out of here, if he’d come with her. Briefly wondering if it would be wrong to just pick him up bridal-style and take off into the night, she shook it off and leapt to the roof.

She scanned the crowd of terrified, white-clad kids huddled around the edges of the ballroom floor. Her eyes followed their stares, and—

Every muscle in her body froze. She’d assumed it was an Akuma. Everyone there was scared, angry or disgusted— it seemed obvious. But Akumas had no need for a syringe of something greenish that shimmered. She’s a clapper!

The worst part was that Adrien was firmly held in that girl’s arms, and she was about to inject him with— No no no. Don’t think about it. Just save him. It’s your job.

Lucky Charms worked against Akumas and sentimonsters, right? Maybe it would help when the threat wasn’t supernatural… when they knew what they were doing and did it anyway, on purpose. She held up a hand.

“Lucky Charm.”

Nothing happened. She tried again and again, but the sparks in the air fizzled out. This had never happened before. She’d always been given what she needed to save everyone.

Did that mean there was nothing she could do this time?

Ladybug realized too late that the moonlight was casting a shadow from behind her. The girl holding her arm firmly around Adrien looked up. Without hesitation, she jammed the syringe down at Adrien’s forearm.

She didn’t even think. There was no time. She sent her yo-yo smashing through the glass of the skylight, aiming to grab Adrien and drag him up from the scene. If she was fast enough, she might be able to shield him from the worst of the explosion.

With more strength than she’d ever put behind a fight, she’d dragged her target onto the roof next to her. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard it hurt. When a millisecond went by and her brain registered that she hadn’t heard or felt any explosions, she finally processed what she’d just done.

The blood drained from her face. The white-clad figure clinging to the edge of the broken skylight, arms covered in cuts from the glass shards, wasn’t Adrien.

It was the clapper.

Ladybug’s whole world tilted, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Even with her powers, she’d never survive from so close. Even with her powers, she’d never survive from so close. That jolt was more than enough to activate clapper fluid.

But the other girl pulled herself up onto the roof, glaring. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“Good.” She could see through the skylight that everyone inside evacuated, and the syringe sat shattered on the ground. Adrien was safe. “I’m not going to let you blow yourself up.”

“Don’t be absurd. Of course I’m not going to blow myself up.” Her voice was flat, as if Ladybug was the one being unreasonable. “What would that solve?”

“But—you—” Her head was pounding. If she was a clapper, how had she not—you know— already? Possibly even stranger, the images in her mind said that in another life, this deranged bomber would have been a trusted friend. She shouldn’t have been familiar, but…

“Kagami?”

The girl didn’t look shocked, almost amused. “So the news got out after all. My mother lost her shiny new toy, and the customers know.”

Ladybug shook her head. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. “What you did—”

“Haven’t you figured it out?” interrupted Kagami. I can’t detonate. That syringe was full of diluted clapper fluid. It cannot be lethal at this concentration. Had it been at full strength, it would have activated the second you intervened.”

“Where did you even get—” No, no no, that’s not what was important. “Then what was the point?” Part of her wondered why she was asking instead of letting the police do it. They were gathered around the gates of the mansion, watching to see when she would be done doing the more dangerous part of their job for him. Still, Kagami was well-restrained by the yo-yo cord, and if her battles with Akumas were anything to go by it was virtually indestructible.

“A few months ago, my… boyfriend and I made a plan.” The hand wearing the simple metal ring clenched into a white-knuckled fist. “Do you realize that clapper fluid never fully leaves your body? Some trace always remains, leaving you unfit for organ harvesting.”

It slowly sank in, and Ladybug could have thrown up. Now she understood why her Lucky Charm hadn’t given her anything. It wasn’t because she couldn’t stop what was about to happen— it was because she wasn’t supposed to.

The police were questioning the guests and sweeping the grounds for Kagami. Not that they’d find her— Ladybug had watched her disappear into the night.

As much as the police tried to take a statement from Gabriel, he insisted on riding in the ambulance to the hospital with Adrien. It was just a precaution—Adrien was scratched and might need a few stitches from the broken glass, but he was safe.

As the ambulance pulled away, a blonde woman stumbled up to the front gate. Her footsteps were so uneven and strained that at first Ladybug thought she was hurt, or possibly drunk. Then her voice rang out high and clear.

“Gabriel Agreste, you open this gate!”

She wasn’t particularly big, but she shook the wrought-iron bars so violently that the gate rattled in its hinges. For a few moments, it looked like she would tear the metal apart in a fit of near-superhuman rage. Then she dropped to her knees and let out a sobbing scream.

Ladybug desperately wanted to go help her, but her time was running out and she knew this stranger might not be safe to approach without powers. To her relief, Nathalie was coming up to the gate. Somewhat reassured but still very uneasy, Ladybug left. She never did figure out why the stranger was so familiar, but had she seen the portrait above the stairs in the manor again, she would have known in a heartbeat.

“Gabriel Agreste, you open this gate!” Amelie threw herself at the wrought-iron bars, her entire frame shaking. 

She didn’t remember the drive to the mansion, only the way back from that harvest camp. She’d had to stop the car several times to pull over to vomit or cry or even both.The employee at the harvest camp had dared to suggest that Felix was better off anyway. Amelie almost clawed the smiling son of a bitch’s eyes out for saying that. She knew her son. Felix would have fought every step of the way to the operating table. He wouldn’t have accepted this. He would have wanted to burn the whole place down to the ground, the same way she wanted to, the same way she’d been this close from trying to do. 

“Gabriel! Open this gate!” Her hands were numb from gripping the steering wheel too tightly for hours. She didn’t care that she hadn’t eaten or slept; that she couldn’t remember if she’d had a shower in days; that the last of her week-old makeup was running down her face with her tears. She threw herself at the gate with all the mightand anger of her broken soul. “Gabriel! You open this door right now or so help me God you will wish you were dead!”

She’d called and called. When Nathalie, bless her, finally put her through, Gabriel had assured her this all had to be a clerical error and that he would pull some strings to get Felix home. She’d believed him until a check arrived in the mail addressed to Felix. Birthday money, my foot.

“Gabriel, I know it was you! I know he had something on you!” Amelie screamed into the night with her raw voice. “He was selfish and sneaky and arrogant, and you just had to kill him, didn’t you?! You had to kill him for being a teenage boy!”

She broke down sobbing and didn’t look up until a light came close. Nathalie stood just on the other side of the gate with a flashlight, looking not unkind. And she was standing.

The last she’d heard, Nathalie was confined to a wheelchair waiting for a new spine.  A sudden chill went through Amelie as she thought of someone else’s baby having their spine being ripped out and packaged for shipping. Strange, before she found out that her son had been taken away to be unwound, she didn’t care much one way or another for unwinding. She didn’t like to talk about it, but that was all. Now that it was her son who had been taken away and stripped for parts, she was the most radical anti-unwind you could ever meet.

“Amelie.” Nathalie knelt down, looking at her.

She managed to choke back a sob. “Where’s Gabriel?”

“In the ambulance with Adrien.” Nathalie kept her tone so painfully gentle. “It’s just a precaution. Adrien is safe.”

“No he’s not! You can’t say he’ll be safe!” Amelie barely rasped out through her hoarse vocal cords. “I’m going to kill Gabriel for this—” here she broke down in another sob.

Nathalie should have looked offended at the outburst, but her genuine pity was somehow worse. “Please be careful. The police can hear you.” It wasn’t a threat— it was real concern. “I told them Gabriel didn’t want to press charges. You won’t be in any trouble.”

“You can’t make me go,” growled Amelie with a hiccup. “Adrien needs me.”

“Amelie… you’re not well.” Nathalie reached a hand through the bars, which was slapped away. “Please go home. I promise Adrien is okay.”

Amelie didn’t remember when she finally pulled herself back up to her feet. The front of her blouse was soaked in tears, and she felt dizzy from exhaustion. Nathalie had stayed for a while, giving comforting words, but Amelie hadn’t processed any of them. She was too drained.

The worst part was that when Nathalie turned to leave, she had her shoulders half-tensed and a small strut in her step, like Felix always did when he wouldn’t admit he’d already lost.

Chapter Text

Nathalie quickly slammed the humongous oak door behind her and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. I did it, she thought, by God, I actually did it.

Adrien was gone, probably in another country by now. With luck, he’ll have already made it to London and he’ll never have to wear those awful tithing whites again. Sure, there was still Gabriel to deal with, but dealing with Gabriel Agreste was her specialty.

What would happen when he found out his son was AWOL? The obvious things, of course: call the authorities, make up stories to tell the newspapers so everyone would think everything was fine, secretly contact Tomoe to see if they could both pool their resources to track Adrien down. All of that might work and all of the resources that those two rich farts had would probably be able to track Adrien— if she wasn’t involved, of course.

“The butler always did it,” Nathalie said to herself with a smile. That was rule number one in detective stories. The one who is closest to you, the one who cleans up your messes and keeps your secrets; the one who you always expect to be loyal, yes, the butler, the butler always did it because they had the opportunity and could always get away with it. Nathalie could just picture Emilie smiling down from heaven, happy that her son got away.

She was sure Emilie was dead. That pod that Gabriel kept his wife’s corpse in was a sham. She knew it, but Gabriel would have been too grief-blind to see that the whole Mr. Freeze cryogenics routine was something out of a sci-fi novel or superhero cartoon. And this was neither of those. 

As much as Nathalie had always loved Emilie, she was gone. Maybe Emilie was in Heaven, or maybe nowhere anymore… but she sure wasn’t in a pod in Gabriel’s basement. And even if she could be brought back, even if, she sure wouldn’t want to be alive if her only child had given his life up for hers. She would have been relieved to see where Adrien was now. 

The hard part was over. With a pep in her step, Nathalie practically danced into the kitchen. She would grab a glass of Gabriel’s fancy wine and a bag of Gabriel’s fancy potato chips to celebrate the fact that his son wouldn’t be meat for the scalpel, then she would go down to her boss’s secret playroom and tell him straight to his face that his son was missing. When he would ask if she had any idea where he went, she would look him straight in the eyes and tell him no. She was looking forward to it. However, just as she was rounding the corner into the kitchen, she froze at the most horrifying sight imaginable:

Adrien at the kitchen counter eating a sandwich.

That Morning

Adrien leaned against the train window, trying to stay awake. Instead of taking him to school, Nathalie had bundled him out of bed and brought him to the train station. She must have gone over the plan ten times before dropping him off with the tickets.

Here he was, in his old clothes and a hoodie instead of his tithing whites to keep people from recognizing him. He wasn’t sure it would work, especially since pictures of him were all over the news after his disaster of a tithing party. At least it was short, he thought, cracking a small smile and pulling the drawstrings of his hoodie just a little bit tighter as someone he thought he recognized passed his train compartment. The dance with Marinette was pretty nice, though… Almost worth the idea of getting unwound…

He watched the city scenery blur in his sleepy eyes. How many hours had he been on the train? How many more did he have before his father found out he wasn’t at school? It couldn’t be that long.

As sudden as this all was, Nathalie made sure he had the schedule memorized. In—he checked his watch— another half hour, he would switch to the first of three more trains to get him to London. (Nathalie said it was important to take an indirect route so he would be harder to trace.) At the last station, he would meet Aunt Amelie, who would take him somewhere with Félix’s passport. He’d asked if Félix would need it, but instead of answering, Nathalie shook her head. He couldn’t remember too much from this morning because of how tired he was, but he could have sworn that he saw Nathalie rubbing her back like it hurt again.

“Do you think it’ll work?” whispered Adrien to his pocket.

But his pocket didn’t answer; instead it complained. “We had time to go back for my cheese, you know.” Plagg’s tail flicked. “It would’ve been a lot faster if you let me—”

“Please don’t Cataclysm my dad.”

Plagg huffed. He was about to restart an argument that had been going on ever since Adrien put on those tithing whites, but he stopped himself, then curled up against Adrien’s hand. “Wake me when it’s lunchtime.”

Someone was watching the news a few rows in front of him. It was a little too loud, but not enough to keep him awake. He’d skipped breakfast to empty his messenger bag and fill it with some extra clothes, and the snack money from Nathalie had been given to a kid in the station who looked like he needed it a lot more. Now he was hungry and tired, and a nap sounded really nice. He closed his eyes and let the sound bites wash over him.

“The controversial bill known as Ivan’s Law will proceed following an unexpected near-unanimous vote… while opponents say that Ivan Bruel, the bill’s namesake, would not have been saved had it been in place, it was presented as a tribute to help others like him…”

“…following a massive leak from an anonymous source, Alliance was showed to be mining data from users. While Gabriel and Tsurugi Industries publicly released a statement saying they were hacked, both CEOs were unavailable for further comment…”

“…live on the scene where Ladybug is holding her own, but has she met her match? And where is Chat Noir?”

Adrien jolted awake. He could see the news footage reflected in the window, with his partner locked in battle. Sweat poured down her face as she struggled to get closer without being hit. She wasn’t faltering yet, but Adrien could tell she was at her limit. Judging by the sharp laughter, her enemy knew it too.

“Plagg, wake up.” Adrien lightly poked his pocket.

Plagg rubbed a paw over his eyes. “Are we even there yet?”

“No, and we’re not going to be,” Adrien muttered. He was already running for the bathroom. “I have to go back.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Plagg shot up in front of him. “Kid, I wasn’t serious! Are you crazy?! You’re supposed to be in London!”

“I’m supposed to be helping people,” Adrien retorted. “What kind of a hero walks away when someone needs him? I… I have to go back.” He gulped, trying to push down the thought of what else he was going back to. “My Lady needs me.”

“Chat, where are you?” Ladybug gritted her teeth and knocked another duplicate away from her. (Which one was the real one? She couldn’t tell when all of them acted so exactly… Chloé.)

It wasn’t like she hadn’t fought her before, but as Endgame, she had her outnumbered. Where was that Cat? Please, Kitty, come help me… I can’t do this alone.

Endgame tossed a shimmering clipboard back and forth between her gold-and-white-uniformed selves in a taunting game of keep-away. Ladybug couldn’t read what was written on it, but it didn’t matter. She smacked away an Endgame with her yo-yo, but another one was already grabbing for her ears. Frankly, I think one Chloé is more than enough.

All of the Endgames were fast. And barely seemed fazed at attacks that sent most Akumas sprawling. This one wasn’t just quantity over quality; she was both.

One of them tripped her again, just like Chloé used to in the halls. A dozen or so identical laughs echoed down the street, eerily in sync.

A Lucky Charm was out of the question; unless someone could keep Endgame busy, Ladybug wouldn’t have time to use it. I’m supposed to be superhuman and they’ve all been running rings around me. How am I tired already?

(The truth was that she’d kept this up for well over two hours, but even superheroes had limits. Akumas made by a man with nothing to lose, however, were dangerous whether the same was true for themselves or not.)

“End of the line, Ladybug.” The team of Chloé’s closed in around her, backing her up against a wall. They all talked at the same time. Did Endgame control her clones like a hive mind? Or were they all the original, just splintered into pieces? Either way, it made her shudder. Death by a dozen laughing Chloes… didn’t I have a nightmare about this back in sixth grade?

Come on, Marinette, think! You can’t go out like this! After everything she’d done, everything she’d worked for, Hawkmoth would win because once again she was alone and couldn’t defend herself from her old bully? After all this time of everything changing, it was back to the way it was; when she had a chance at something good, Chloé tried to take it from her. 

Ladybug gave the Endgame closest to her a kick with the last of her strength, but only bought herself a few seconds. I’m sorry, Kitty. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I let all of Paris down… She covered her ears and hoped desperately that the reason Chat was missing wasn’t that he’d already been captured.

With a steel flash, Endgame (every one of her) went tumbling back. A black blur landed in front of Ladybug, and she slowly looked up.

“Chaton!”

He grinned back over his shoulder. “Miss me?”

He’d landed on his feet, and from the looks of it he was just getting started.

Ladybug didn’t waste any time. “Lucky Charm!”

With Chat in front of her giving her room to breathe, she had a shoebox in her hands in a flash. She opened it, and her face fell.

“What is it?” Chat wasn’t missing a step, keeping Chloé back like they were old friends playing a game of tag. They really were a perfect team.

Ladybug pulled herself up. Now that she’d had a few moments to rest, her superhuman abilities were recharging quickly. “I… I think I have to go somewhere to use this.” She didn’t want to leave him— deep down, a part of her was scared he might not be there when he got back. “Will you be okay on your own?”

“Don’t worry, Milady.” He dodged another swipe at his hand from Endgame. “I know you’ll come back for me.”

Ladybug wanted to argue, but if her clue meant what she thought it did, there was no time to lose. “I won’t be long, I promise!”

The box itself lay forgotten in the street as Ladybug sprinted off, clutching the pair of spotted high-tops by the laces.

Zoé was harder to find than she’d thought. It was just luck that Ladybug ran up to the roof to look for her.

“Zoé Lee—”

She hesitated. The last three times she’d recruited a temporary holder, she’d chosen so badly. She’d had a flash of Alya almost dying, Luka’s note only left her more confused and Chloé… well, maybe it would be better since the Lucky Charm chose for her. The shoes couldn’t mean anything else, and she’d tried— they were the wrong size for her or Chat, and even the frayed aglet on the left one matched Zoé’s.

Oh no, now Zoé was staring. How long had she been standing there? Chat needed her to hurry back, and she’d taken too long already. If he had to use his Cataclysm while she was gone…

There was no time for her usual speech. “You know how this works, right?”

Zoé nodded and slowly took the Bee from her hand— she must have seen her sister on the news. Pollen (the Bee Kwami) materialized in a tendril of light and shook her tiny antennae. “I do hope you have better taste in confections than this one.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes— Pollen had been such a diva ever since living with Chloé. No matter what the kwami claimed, Ladybug knew for a fact she didn’t need imported saffron-honey candies from some gourmet chef’s private supply to refuel. “I already fed you. Let’s go.”

Pollen huffed. “Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.” Zoé smiled. Ladybug tried not to think about it, but the smile reminded her so much of Queen Bee at the start of every mission. She could have cried. This is going to be a very long day…

“Ten of her, three of us, one clipboard.” Ladybug smiled. Somehow I like those odds. “Ready, Zoé—I mean, Vesperia?” 

Zoé nodded. “Ready.” She didn’t sound ready, though— she sounded a little nervous.  Ladybug gave her a smile that she hoped was reassuring.

“You’ll do great. Just stay up here and don’t let her—them— don’t let Endgame see you.” Ladybug lowered herself down from the roof with her yo-yo, backing up against the wall. “Hey! Over here!”

About half of the Endgame clones (she was going to convince herself to think of them like that, because the idea of someone actually being split like that was all kinds of horrifying) advanced on her, the other half still hounding Chat. Ladybug flicked her yo-yo out, wrapping it around a lamppost across the street.

“Chat! Divide and conquer!”

His ears laid back for a split-second, then pricked up as he realized her plan. “On it!” Taking a few steps into the street, he extended his staff until it shot out all the way across, slamming it into the brickwork of the opposite building. Now the two heroes had a corral of sorts separating four groups of just two or three Endgames.

“Now?” Vesperia called from the roof. Ladybug nodded, and the top spun down and froze the copy (just a copy, right? Nothing more?) holding the clipboard. The only other Endgame in that section of the grid tried to pry it from her (own?) grasp, but Chat Noir beat her to it. “Cataclysm!”

It only took a second for Ladybug to catch the black butterfly. Now there was only one Chloé (thank God) who was unmasked in broad daylight. Even though Ladybug knew Chloé would be fine (every time she was Akumatized, her father had her out by the next day), it still made her heart skip.

“Chloé, we can’t keep doing this.” Ladybug tried very hard not to sound frustrated, but it was the fourth time in three weeks that they’d had to de-Akumatize her. “Is there some way we can help you?”

“Shut up.” Chloé glared at the ordinary school-issue clipboard, no longer covered in white and gold, like this whole thing was the inanimate object’s fault. “Just… shut up.”

“If you want, I can walk you back to school.” It was amazing how her kitty could still sound so patient. Maybe he wouldn’t be if he’d seen what she did; what started all this.

Ladybug did feel bad for Chloé. She did. But she was constantly cleaning up after her, and it seemed like anything could get her Akumatized now. Today everything had been fine until the gym coach got a notice that Chloé was permanently excused from “risky physical activity”— all of which Chloé despised anyway and spent all her school years avoiding. For some reason, getting exactly what she seemed to want completely set her off and she demanded to be let onto the field for a game (did she even know what sport they were playing?). Chloé was an enigma to her, and she was running out of time to figure her out.

A police car pulled up (how did they keep getting there so fast?!) and Chloé huffed angrily as she slammed the door open. “You know the drill. Let me out at the hotel or Daddy fires you.”

The two juvies— one a short woman who looked like a human bulldog, the other a tall, gaunt man with a crooked nose that almost matched his skin tone but not quite— exchanged looks. “Actually, as of this morning you’re not getting an override for being Hawkmoth’s little helper,” the bulldog woman growled. “We’re here to get witness statements.”

It should have been a relief, but Ladybug was surprised to realize she was angry. Not only was Chloé walking away with no consequences (when does she ever have any?!), but it meant Ivan’s Law, the bill Alya campaigned so hard for and the news argued about, was passed just a little too late for so many of their classmates. Nathan and Kim would still be running for their lives as long as they were still out there, and Alix still couldn’t see her family.

Logically Ladybug knew how many kids would be safe now, but when it came just in time for the one person who it made no difference to… she could have punched something.

“Poor Chloé,” Chat Noir said as they raced atop Paris’s rooftops. For whatever reason, the two hadn’t split up yet. Their usual routine was to go their separate ways to avoid their Miraculous losing power.

Ladybug stopped in her tracks, still covered in sweat from the battle. “Poor Chloé?” she demanded, turning on the roof of a bakery that she knew for a fact had inferior bread and pastries to her parent’s. “What about poor Ladybug? You left me with her for hours! I thought you weren’t ever coming back! Where were you?” Her voice cracked at the last part. “I just— I don’t know why you keep making excuses for her!”

Chat went silent, looking down at the roof.  A part of Ladybug wanted to apologize— they both knew that their regular lives were off limits— but she’d spent hours having to relive every bad school day from the last decade.

He took a deep breath and was thinking of a well regulated, measured, calm response. That was gone with the train that he was supposed to be on as it sped by, making them both jump.

That’s it. The last chance I’ll ever have at living past this month is gone. Tears pricked up around his eyes.

Ladybug took a step forward, ashamed at what she’d said and wanting to apologize, but Chat didn’t want her shoulder to cry on. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you understand that she’s dying a few weeks from now?” 

Yes, she knew it. She knew it when Chloé played the pity card to get out of work, to get out of trouble, to get out of overrides… She still would have felt sorry for her, even after everything, if it wasn’t for the disgust in her voice as Marinette’s mask came off at the party— the same she knew would have been there for the poor kid Queen Bee tried to sentence to the same fate at the train station.

“Then maybe—” Ladybug’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Then maybe what?” Chat Noir asked, but then his ring flickered. He gave her one last look, and just like that he was gone. Ladybug was left standing there, afraid what she might have said if she’d finished her sentence.

Chat raced atop the city, trying to make it back to his window before he changed back. His transformation had been hard— he and Plagg hadn’t eaten, and the emergency cheese was still in the pockets of his tithing whites wherever he’d changed that morning. If he had to walk up to the gates as Adrien, he’d have a lot more explaining to do— and worse, Nathalie might get in trouble for it.

He opened his bedroom window, climbed through and sprawled out onto the bed. He was already Adrien again, and his stomach was growling.

“Ooh…” Plagg held his stomach, and for once Adrien wasn’t sure the little cat was being so dramatic. He tossed over a small box of Camembert from the minifridge and watched as Plagg messily devoured it.

What was he doing?

Even if he transformed again, right now, he wasn’t going to be on time to meet Aunt Amelie at the station. He didn’t know when the next train to London was, let alone the complicated journey Nathalie explained to him. If he went back as Adrien or Chat Noir, he’d get mobbed.

How was he going to explain being back to Nathalie? He thought about transforming again and living around Paris as Chat Noir instead— it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. It was tempting, but how would he feed Plagg? How would he feed himself? What if someone connected the missing celebrity tithe with Chat Noir constantly being around, and he led himself and his Lady right to Hawkmoth… or the juvies? I don’t know which would be worse.

Adrien didn’t want to be a tithe, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. There was, however, another urgent matter pressing, and one that could be immediately fixed.

Plagg had the right idea. Adrien got up and headed to the kitchen to fix himself some food.

Nathalie let out a sound like a mouse being stepped on. She didn’t realize she’d even moved until she was right next to Adrien with her hand on his shoulder.

“…Adrien…” She took a deep breath, unsteady on her feet in a way that she hadn’t felt since her spine transplant. “… what are you doing?”

He looked up at her with eyes full of guilt and a mouth full of whatever was in his sandwich. Nathalie tried to think of any way he could possibly have come all this way and gotten back into this house in just a few hours. Even if he’d jumped from a moving train instead of waiting for it to arrive at the station (please, Adrien, don’t have done something so reckless), he couldn’t have come back so quickly.

And here he was, apparently chewing every bite of his food 200 times in silence.

“Adrien. Stop stalling.” Nathalie sat down next to him and suppressed the urge to scream. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at the counter. “…I… this is my house?”

From anyone else in the world, it would have sounded very sarcastic, but it just seemed like he didn’t have an answer.

Nathalie could have screamed, but all the while Adrien was smiling the biggest, stupidest grin she had ever seen. The bread in his sandwich was a little stale (Gabriel had forgotten to order groceries again, and Nathalie was otherwise occupied), but it made him think of a certain bakery.

I know how I’m going to eat. When I go AWOL, I’ll work at the bakery with Marinette and sleep in the storeroom. Good old Marinette… He swallowed some bread. What I wouldn’t give to dance with her again.

Chapter Text

Marinette laid back on her bed and read the invitation for the 40th time. 

She’d received it a week ago, and she still checked the email every morning to see if it was a strange dream. After the third day, she finally processed it. Chloé had invited her to her tithing party. 

She still didn’t know what to think. Was this some kind of a sick joke? Chloé had never said anything in person about it and Marinette hadn’t dared ask her, but she heard from Alya that nearly the entire class was invited. That was new; other than Adrien, Sabrina and whoever her target was this week, Chloé barely acknowledged that anyone else existed these days. Zoé didn’t have any answers either, and judging by the Akuma alert two nights ago, asking about it hadn’t gone well. For all Marinette knew, Chloé was planning another trick. If she showed up, she might be set up to be humiliated one last time.

But what if she didn’t go?

Maybe Chloé would wait around all night to torment a girl for the last time and never do it. The idea wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been. Was Chloé really cruel enough to spend her last night bullying someone? It was hard to tell after everything.

What if that wasn’t it, though? She’d seen Chloé be nice to Adrien, take the fall for Sabrina and even go on patrol with her late at night. This was the last chance Chloé would ever have to make things right. What if that was what she wanted to do?

A part of Marinette still blamed herself for how things ended with Queen Bee. She’d genuinely been dedicated on missions, and according to Pollen, she’d treated her kwami well— maybe a little too well if the expensive demands were anything to go by.  Marinette lost a lot of sleep wondering if this could have been prevented if only she’d been fast enough to catch her before she did anything reckless. What she did to that kid at the station made her see more red than her costume… but it still hurt to see Chloé crying over losing her Miraculous.

Her parents made it very clear that she didn’t have to go. But didn’t she, really? After every missed chance to intervene, every wasted effort Chloé made at getting better, didn’t she owe it to her to give her one last chance to try?

She stood in front of the mirror and sighed. She didn’t want to go to Chloé’s tithing party. Still, it felt like she owed it to Chloé— especially since this was all she could do now.

She went through her closet, carefully avoiding anything solid white. Never again. Not even socks. She settled on a dress she’d just finished, patterned with pink flowers. Even if she got there just to get thrown out (which she secretly hoped for so she wouldn’t have to step inside), she’d have tried.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Marinette?” Tikki asked from her clutch purse. She’d been given extra macarons in case they needed to make a quick exit.

Marinette didn’t answer, and she didn’t need to. She was going anyway.

The lobby of the hotel was packed. Marinette picked out several celebrities— including Jagged Stone, who couldn’t seem to get away fast enough— and to her shock he was closely followed by Juleka, who held hands with Rose. A few others were here from school too— even Alya was nearby with her camera, taking photos with all the seriousness of a documentary crew not allowed to intervene while a fox chewed its own leg off to get free. She saw Marinette and ran over to her, eyes wide. “Girl, I didn’t think you were coming!”

Marinette tried to smile. “Neither did I.”

“Most of the class came too.” Alya shuddered slightly. “I’ve never been to… one of these before. For some reason Chloé hired me as a photographer.”

This kept getting weirder. “Why?” Marinette blurted out, then flinched. “Wait! I didn’t mean— you’re a great photographer—“

Alya laughed. “No no, I get it. I couldn’t believe it either. She kept asking me to get Ladybug to come, but when I told her I couldn’t do that she insisted I show up and that Ladybug would happen to be around.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Marinette followed her inside, trying to steel herself.

“Pretty much the whole class came. Well, except Zoé. She’s upstairs helping Chloé get ready before the limo picks her up for her grand entrance.”

Marinette nodded before it clicked. “Wait, what?”

Alya tried very hard to keep a straight face. “You heard me. She’s getting picked up by a fancy limo at the other entrance… just so they can drive to the other side of the building and let her walk in over here.”

Now Marinette smiled for real. “That’s Chloé, alright.” She stopped. “Wait— the whole class came?”

Alya grinned. “Thinking of anyone?”

“Tomoe, please,” Gabriel begged, standing in front of Emilie’s coffin. “I just need a little longer. There has to be something left to try.”

“Gabriel-san, I already told you.” Tomoe almost sounded too exhausted to be mad. “That treatment last week was not likely to work, and it was the only alternative left. She will not survive without—“

“I know.” He stared at Emilie’s deceptively serene form behind the glass. She’d started to deteriorate again, and even when he spent all night by her side there was no improvement.

“We reviewed all the data again, just as you asked. She has one viable chance, and the longer you delay, the less likely she is to survive.” Tomoe’s voice became stern all over again. “Your plan is all you have left.”

“I don’t think I can.” Gabriel put his hand to the glass. It was so cold that fog formed around his touch. “What do I do?”

“Stop asking me,” Tomoe snapped. “I am not responsible for you. All I need from you is for you to clean up the Alliance mess and compensate me for the loss.” An edge crept into her voice at the thought of the proof Kagami stole from her lab and leaked to the world. “Whether you do that by tithing Adrien and rebuilding public support or by going bankrupt makes no difference to me as long as we are clear.” Her voice became a low growl. “You will not take me down with you.”

Gabriel stared at his reflection in the glass. “How long do I have to decide?”

“You signed the papers months ago,” said Tomoe bluntly. “But the odds of success dropped significantly this week, and will reach zero in the next few days.”

Before Gabriel could say anything, his Alliance chimed. He hung up and shook his fist. “What now?!”

He saw the caller ID and groaned. How did she get access to my private line? “Lila, stop calling this number!”

“You forgot my invitation to—”

“For the last time, you did not receive an invitation to Adrien’s tithing party because you were not invited!”

A mock gasp that he could just tell was fake. “I don’t believe this! First the photoshoot and now this? I am the image of your brand!”

“So are my perfume bottles,” Gabriel said flatly. “You don’t see me inviting them.”

“If this treatment continues, I will have no choice but to take my business to another brand. My lawyers will get me out of that contract and into one where I’m appreciated.” Her voice became casual, too casual. “Another brand was very interested in your ideas. You wouldn’t have heard of it. It’s very… underground.”

Gabriel’s heart came closer to permanently stopping than Emilie’s ever had. She can’t know that! She couldn’t!

But hadn’t she managed to start modeling next to Adrien even though every agency Nathalie checked had never heard of her? Couldn’t she have been to the mansion on the night of the party, while everyone was distracted? Wasn’t she calling him right now on his private Alliance line when she shouldn’t even know the number? She could know anything.

Sweat dripped down the side of Gabriel’s face. He checked the security footage— and sure enough, the girl was right outside the gate glaring into the security camera. “Alright, Lila, we’ll talk. Just a moment.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long.” Lila was back to sounding too casual. “They’re waiting for me at that exclusive party at the hotel.”

Her meaning was clear, or should have been: People are waiting for me. They’ll notice if I don’t show up. Hawkmoth, however, was too obsessed for subtleties and hung up without another word.

“Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise!”

Adrien really only wanted some fresh air. He didn’t know how he could endure having to attend Chloé’s tithing party, and he would have taken any reason to not go.

Now that he was Chat Noir on the rooftops, though, the watermelon-sized flaming meteor hurtling towards his head seemed like a pretty good one.

“Watch out!” Before his own reflexes could kick in, an orange blur leaped over his head and, with incredible agility, sent the rock flying with a spinning kick before landing on her feet.

“Better be more careful.” The masked girl smiled. “That almost hit you.”

She was right— it all happened so fast he didn’t even have time to feel the heat of the meteor near his face. He leaned on his staff, twitching his tail-belt in that way that always made Ladybug roll her eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Her amber eyes glittered. “Vulpina.”

“Did Ladybug send you to come find me?” He could feel the tightness leaving his shoulders already. His brilliant Lady must have found someone to hold the Fox, and the only reason she would have replaced Rena was that she knew she’d found the best fit. Whether I have to run or not, she won’t be alone.

“Come on!” Vulpina scampered over the roof tiles, never missing a step— even that broken shingle that always used to trip him. She really was a natural. 

What was I worried about? Ladybug knew what she was doing. Vulpina might as well have been made for this.

Chat reached to call Ladybug, but somehow Vulpina was next to him again. He hadn’t seen her come back.

“There’s no time.” Vulpina took his hand in hers, holding it just firmly enough to keep it still. “Ladybug said we have to go now. I’ll fill you in when we get there.”

She gave that bright smile again and squeezed his hand. Chat smiled back.

He had a good feeling about this.

Vulpina was a little too fast— she kept leaving him behind. He knew she didn’t mean to, but it was almost like she disappeared whenever he tried to keep track of where they were going.

The phone built into his baton buzzed. Chat’s heart picked up— either it was Vulpina trying to tell where he was, or Ladybug desperately calling for backup. He saw who it was and hit the speaker without a second thought. “Milady? Are you okay?”

She hesitated. “I’m fine, but… what are you doing?”

“Trying to find you!” He circled around.

“Find me? Did I miss a patrol?”

He blinked. “I thought you were in trouble.”

“Kitty, if I were in trouble, I’d call you.” He really had to tell her. “What’s going on? I saw you on the news, but I couldn’t tell what you were chasing.”

“Oh— no, I was with her new recruit.” Did he sound upset? He hoped he didn’t. “Don’t worry, I like her! Vulpina’s great!”

“…who’s Vulpina?”

An orange-gloved hand wrapped around the baton, completely covering the speaker. Someone shoved a knee against his throat.

“I told you not to call.”

The fight was a blur. He and Ladybug were perfectly synchronised right until they were at close range. He’d never seen her like that— she tackled Vulpina and the yo-yo flew wildly until something broken released a black butterfly. If they hadn’t been chased down the fire escape and into the street, Vulpina would have been knocked off the roof.

Most people were confused when they were set free from Akumas. Lila screamed and huddled with her arms over her head.

Ladybug took a step closer, trying to check on her, but Lila scrambled desperately back. “Leave me alone! You know I didn’t mean to! I said I was sorry!”

With cars pulled over trying not to run Lila over, the whole street was at a standstill. Most of their onlookers had their phones out.

Ladybug hadn’t used her Lucky Charm. Thankfully Lila’s fine. Chat looked down at the ring that was almost wrenched from his finger. He’d activated his Cataclysm to stop Vulpina from taking it. He looked around, shrugged and, not really sure what else to do with it, disintegrated a random piece of trash on the ground.

Sirens sounded, and at first Ladybug thought someone called an ambulance. With the way Lila was acting, some poor driver probably thought they’d run her over. Her stomach turned when the police car rounded the corner, followed by another one and another one.

Two juvies got out of the first car and approached Lila, who was standing there trying her best to look like a baby deer who’d been hit by a car. She slouched her shoulders low and held on to her left arm like it hurt. Ladybug recognized the two juvie-cops from the last time Chloé was Akumatized.

Something was off, though; In all  the times she was in the unfortunate position to meet them, she’d never seen them bark at the bystanders taking videos or shuffle over slowly to the scene. It’s like even they don’t want to be around her.

Before Ladybug knew what was happening, she heard Lila shouting. The juvies were trying to keep their voices low, but Lila kept yelling until they had to shout over her to hear each other.

“Get your hands off of me! I’m a victim! Ivan’s Law, remember? Ivan’s law!”

The tall man with the recently rebroken nose grumbled something, but Ladybug only caught “not for this”.

“My mother is the ambassador! She’s going to raise Hell when she hears about this!” Lila tried to sound in control, but her mask was slipping. “She’ll have the two of you fired! You two uglies won’t even be able to get jobs as mall cops, you hear me?!”

“Come on, sweetheart. You got a date with the scalpel,” the bulldog woman said flatly.

“No!” Lila wailed.

Ladybug knew for certain now that Lila had not shown one ounce of real emotion before today, because what she displayed now was as real and raw as a newly scraped knee.

“What’s going on?” To Ladybug’s horror, Chat was no longer by her side. He had joined Lila and “accidentally” put himself between her and the officer trying to put her in handcuffs.

“What’s going on? Ask Interpol!” cut in a different officer behind them— this one in the blue uniform of the Paris Police Prefecture.

“This is an ongoing investigation and we can’t—” the tall man tried to interrupt.

“She’s got an outstanding Unwind order, a missing persons report and multiple allegations of black market dealings. All under different names.” The officer in blue chuckled. “Funny how much she managed to pull without any local units noticing. All the dealings with her were rewards for other criminals.”

(Was it Ladybug’s imagination, or did the bulldog woman look red in the face? )

“After her last three tips didn’t pan out, someone finally started looking. Apparently she fed them some crazy story about an AWOL tithe on a public train.”

Lila shook her head, and all at once the mask was back. “That’s ridiculous! How could I do any of that?” 

“Apparently with some impressive disguise skills.” One officer tapped his Alliance, pulling up Lila’s customizable avatar. (It had been removed in the last software release, but apparently he hadn’t updated it recently.) “Every one of those contacts who pointed at you matched you to some variation of this thing.”

Lila shook her head. “No! Anyone could make that look however they want! It doesn’t mean I wear disguises in real life!”

“Oh, does it?” The officer reached over and yanked Lila’s hair. For a moment it looked like he’d torn a clump out by the roots, but then Ladybug’s brain caught up to what she was seeing. The crowd gasped and whispered at the wig being sealed into an evidence bag.

“Alright, we should do this at the station.” With one shove, the two juvies managed to push a very stunned Chat Noir aside and force Lila into the car. “Lila Rossi, Cerise Bianca, Iris Delrey or whoever you are, you’re coming with us.”

“You have to take me to the hospital first,” Lila or maybe one of those other names pleaded. “I think my arm is broken.” Anyone could see it wasn’t.

“Don’t worry, there’s more than enough medical help at Harvest Camp,” the bulldog woman said gruffly.

Crooked nose walked around the back of the car. “Alright, nothing to see here, people! This is now a crime scene. Move along!”

The crowd reluctantly started to move, but the cameras were still rolling long enough to catch the juvie-cop pass Ladybug and give her a hard pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for catching her for us, kid.”

Ladybug looked up and saw Chat Noir give a disgusted look before pouncing away. She felt like she was going to throw up.

Bursting into his room and slamming the window shut behind him, Chat Noir’s transformation fizzled out. Adrien Agreste collapsed against the wall, panting.

“You’ve never held out that long against the countdown, kid,” Plagg commented, circling his head.

Adrien cracked a weak smile. “Go get something to eat.”

He didn’t have to tell Plagg twice— the kwami dissapeared into the minifridge at the exact second the bedroom door opened.

Gabriel stood in the doorway, his face showing no emotion except for the dried tears hidden by the lighting. “Adrien, go take a shower and brush your teeth. We’re leaving for your appointment in fifteen minutes.”

Any breath Adrien had managed to catch was gone. “W-what?” he choked out. “I— you said I had until—”

“This is not up for discussion.” His father’s voice cracked almost imperceptibly as he ran a thumb over his wedding ring. “Get ready and come straight to the car.”

The door slammed.

Adrien stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower, too shaken to know what else to do.

Plagg flew after him. “You’re just going to do what he says?!” His tail lashed furiously behind him.

“No, and do not use your Cataclysm on him.” If a kwami used their powers without a holder, it would bring uncontrolled disaster— even though Adrien was ashamed at how tempted he was to just let it happen. “Listen, I’ve got one more idea.”

He took a deep breath and slid the ring off his finger.

“Kid, what are you doing?!” Plagg circled around his hand, trying to force the ring back on his finger. Adrien lightly shook him off.

“Listen…” He took a deep breath. “If I use this now, I’m going to do something stupid. I need you to take this to Ladybug and— and tell her everything.” His voice cracked as he looked at the silver ring in the palm of his hand. “She can get there in time and help me.” And if she doesn’t… at least she’ll know what happened.

He didn’t remember drying off or changing into the fresh clothes laid out on his bed, but he must have, because he was dry, changed and sitting on his bed when two arguing voices came closer down the hallway.

“Just say the word,” Plagg whispered from his hiding spot in the cracked-open minifridge. One paw was glowing green.

“No Cataclysm! Stay put,” Adrien hissed as the door opened and the arguing fell silent.

His father was silent as usual. He put a hand on his shoulder, and the hard swallow wasn’t lost on Adrien.

Nathalie’s eyes were red, and she held the door frame for support. Her voice was hoarse. “Adrien, I’m…”

He shook his head.

“You did everything you could.”

The door behind Adrien was left open just a crack, and Plagg sat seething and trying not to cry in the cheese drawer of the fridge. Stupid kitten… His boy never gave direct orders, so he didn’t know he’d phrased those last words as one. Adrien was still his holder and Plagg was stuck until he took the order back, which couldn’t happen because he didn’t know he’d given one. 

Plagg’s ears drooped and he curled up around the ring, holding it close. I know you didn’t mean to.

The ride in the limo was a blur. Adrien stared out the window, watching the grays of the city around fade together.

Nathalie sat in the backseat this time, between him and his father. He could almost feel the force of everything she wanted to say but was holding back for his sake.

“I’m very proud of you, Adrien.” His father reached out and took his hand, staring at it like it might have an answer. “You’re doing a good thing. It’s what your mother would have wanted.”

Adrien pulled away. “I know she wouldn’t have wanted this. She would have wanted me to be happy and… live my life.”

Nathalie wrapped her arms around him, and he buried his face in her shoulder. He could feel his tears soaking her sleeve, and his father’s hand firmly rubbing his back.

“It’ll be alright, Adrien,” he kept saying in a voice that sounded like he was holding back tears of his own. “You won’t feel a thing. I’ve found the best doctors in the world… they know what they’re doing.” His voice dropped low as his hand ran through Adrien’s curls. “You’ll be with your mother again.”

Adrien didn’t know how long they’d been driving, but he felt his stomach pitch when the limo stopped. They were at the entrance to a white building. He could smell the sterile sheets and disinfectant as soon as the door opened.

It felt like his body was moving without him. Someone in scrubs guided him out of the car, and he managed to stand in front of the big glass doors. His father and Nathalie were getting out of the car now, and someone was asking him a question that didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter because against all odds, he heard a voice call out down the street.

“Adrien!”

He turned around to see the source of the voice. She was in that dress he’d seen in her sketchbook on their last date, with makeup running down her face. That pink electric scooter— a gift from her grandmother after her parents ruled that a motorcycle was not an appropriate present for a 14-year-old— was haphazardly parked against a building, scratching the paint. She hadn’t even locked it— there was no time.

“Not again!” Gabriel broke away from his argument with Nathalie and ran over to the pair. “Stop! You’re not allowed to be here!”

Marinette was too fast for him. She and Adrien were already clinging to each other, desperate and relieved and scared and trying to find the words. Bluebell eyes met peridot, and somehow what came next only seemed natural.

The last little line of distance between them finally closed, and they kissed for the first time since those months ago in the classroom. There were no roses or background musicians, but wouldn’t have made a difference if there were, because for a few painful, messy, perfect moments it was just the two of them in the world.

They’d barely broken the kiss, Marinette’s eyes still shining with tears, when Adrien felt a cold hand on his shoulder. “Stop that right now,” commanded his father, but Marinette wouldn’t let go. She pulled Adrien by the hand and tried to drag him—where? They barely made it a few feet before hospital security rushed out and his father was yelling something at the Gorilla (who stood still with his arms crossed and tears running down his huge face), and then suddenly Marinette faltered.

She looked up at Adrien and collapsed into his arms. He was warm, and she was so tired. He kissed her on the forehead, holding her tight as the world went black.

“—using tranquilizers on her?! How could she pose a serious threat? She’s fourteen and unarmed—”

Marinette had never heard her parents so angry. Their words were hard to make out through the haze. There was a steady beeping noise coming from somewhere, and with an enormous effort, she opened her eyes.

She was lying on a hospital bed in all her clothes. A bad scrape on her leg from her rushed parking job was bandaged and probably cleaned. There was a heavy clip on her finger leading to a monitor, which showed her heart rate.

Oh. That’s what it was.

“M-Maman? Papa?” Her voice was weak and scratchy, but her parents were at her side instantly, all that anger replaced with soft concern. They were being gentle with her, like a little kid who doesn’t know how sick they are.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” her mother asked, smoothing a stray hair from her eyes.

Marinette nodded and tried to sit up. It was shakier than she thought, and a nurse rushed to steady her.

“It’s okay, dear. Take your time.” The nurse checked her vitals, nodding to herself. “Your parents are here to take you home. A few more hours and you’ll have slept it all off.”

Something registered in the nurse’s wording and everything came flooding back. She looked around frantically for a clock, and her heart sank when she saw a pitch-black view from a window. She looked up frantically. “Where’s Adrien?”

Her parents both froze, and she knew. She knew before the nurse even said a word, but some part of her refused to process it as long as there was any chance she was wrong.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” murmured the nurse with all the genuine care of someone who meant it. Marinette’s eyes filled with tears all over again.

“He’s gone.”

Chapter Text

The waiting room was cold.

Adrien sat next to Nathalie, who had her arms wrapped tightly around him. He could feel her tears in his hair.

Marinette had been tranqued by security moments after their kiss. He’d held her as tightly as Nathalie was holding him now and refused to let go until he was convinced she would be fine, she wasn’t in trouble and the hospital was going to let her parents take her home without involving the police. He’d seen her asleep in a hospital bed before he was whisked to the next room for his final exam. Maybe that was better. He didn’t want her to burst into the operating room and see anything.

For once, his father didn’t leave his side. He’d hugged him and told how brave he was being, and even said he was proud of him. It hurt how much Adrien still wanted to hear that, even now.

A nurse came into the room and Adrien felt his throat tighten. She had a clipboard— he wasn’t sure why, because they were the only ones in this ward. His father had made sure of that.

“Adrien Agreste?”

Nathalie was probably about to say something that would get her fired or arrested for death threats, but Adrien pulled out of the hug and slowly stood up.

One of the doctors—the specialist who ran a stress test on him the month before— thanked him and guided him to the wheelchair. He wasn’t sure he could have walked.

Just as he was about to sit down, his father reached out to grab his shoulder. He was too far away, but his eyes were huge.

“Wait, doctor—“

The whole room froze. Adrien looked at his father, who stared back at him like he desperately wanted to say something. For the first time in days, there was real hope.

Then, slowly, as if it broke his heart as much as Adrien’s, Gabriel lowered his hand. “Make sure he’s… comfortable.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Agreste,” the surgeon reassured him. “He’s in good hands.”

Adrien lay on the padded surface with something cold flowing into him from an IV. Straps crossed over his chest, ankles and wrists, but the soft padding on each kept them from being uncomfortable.

Not in that way, anyway.

The surgical light was too bright above him. The nurse noticed him squinting and quickly angled it away, keeping it out of his eyes. She took her place next to him.

“Adrien, dear, are you comfortable? Do you have any questions for me?”

Slowly, with so much more effort than he should need, he turned his head to look at the nurse. He could see her long blonde hair tucked into her surgical cap.

“When do they start?”

“They’ve already started, sweetie.” She stroked his hair gently. “Right now you’re just giving blood, but even that’s going to save so many lives. You’re a hero.”

He didn’t feel like one. He’d been a hero as Chat Noir, or tried to be. He’d died so many times doing that. His Lady was always there to bring him back, though. Somehow this didn’t feel the same as it usually did.

Was he even dying?

A faint tugging sensation made his stomach churn. The nurse squeezed his hand, but not too hard. Not hard enough to hurt.

“You’re okay.” She adjusted the oxygen mask over his face. “You get used to it very quickly, and it’s just a matter of waiting from there.”

She was being so gentle with him. Even the way she held his hand was so light, like he might break if she held on hard enough. Maybe they were treating him like this because he was a tithe.

Alya wrote something about unwinding and being awake. Apparently with an override, you were considered dangerous and sedated. For the safety of others. For your own. Ivan would have slept right through this.

It stung that the rich tithe who was showered in reassurances of his bravery was jealous of a boy whose only privilege had been sleep.

The nurse was saying something to him. He closed his eyes. Maybe he could try to let his mind wander and not feel it. They kept saying he wouldn’t feel it.

Please let them be right.

She let go of his hand and adjusted the oxygen mask over his face. Maybe they put something else in there too— everything felt all fuzzy.

“It’ll help you relax,” she said as a doctor gently lifted his hand.

“You’ve got some nice hands,” the doctor commented, turning it so he could see the palm and the back of Adrien’s hand. “Do you play an instrument?”

Adrien stared up at the ceiling. “…They’re not mine.”

The doctor glanced at his chart and didn’t ask anything else.

Sometimes there were stories about unwind parts that seemed like the kids were still there. He was never sure if those were true, but he hoped not. It was bad enough being here; he didn’t want Luka to feel it twice.

Everything drifted around him in a hazy blur. The nurse moved to stand near his shoulder, softly stroking his hair now instead of holding his hand. Don’t think about why.

Something cracked. He heard it before he felt it press into his chest. It still didn’t hurt, but he knew. Would it be worse like this or if I had no idea what they’re doing to me?

“Adrien, baby, your heart rate’s up.” The nurse sounded like she was actually worried. “Do you need to talk to me?”

“I’m not a tithe.” He felt like he had to say it. “Not really. I only found out I had to be one a few months ago. My parents…” His voice cracked. “My mom didn’t want this to happen to me. I know that.”

“I know it’s not easy. She would be proud of you for being so brave, though.” He knew by now when people chose their words very carefully, even in soft murmurs from the nurse. “And you’ll help so many people in her memory.” Her voice caught for just a moment, like his had, and then it was over. “There’s a patient in the next room who needs a heart transplant. You’ll get her back to her family.”

Something was tugging deep in his chest. It felt wrong.

He closed his eyes and leaned into the nurse’s hand, letting her comb her gloved fingers through his curls.

It had to be almost over by now. They were too close. They couldn’t be this close if everything was still there.

He’d barely felt it… but he heard it all. Sounds that made him feel sick.

He hadn’t said anything when they warned him they were going to take his vocal cords (“you’re giving someone their voice back, isn’t that great?”). Everything he wanted to say was for someone else.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” The nurse’s thumb traced a pattern over his temple. “We’ll finish up this part, and then you can rest.”

He blinked back tears. It worked, for the moment.

“Just try to relax. You’ve done everything you could. You can let yourself drift off, and I’ll be here.”

He tried to make his eyes focus. It was harder than he remembered.

“That’s good. Oh— try to lie still, dear. They’re working on your jaw now.”

The back of his head felt too cold.

“Shh… it’s alright. The neurosurgery team is going to take good care of you, alright? They’ll get you through this.”

A cold, silver blur worked its way under one eye. The world tilted, lifted above his face for a split-second and then went black one half at a time.

This time, he knew his Lady wasn’t coming.

Did she love me? I know she didn’t think of me like that, not like I love her, but… I was her friend.

The voices around him sounded far away.

“What a waste.” A deep male voice, sounding disgusted. It was followed by the tink of metal on a tray. “Kid had potential. There’s no reason for him to be here.”

“He’s a tithe. They’re always calmer about it.” A different doctor… not one he thought he’d met.

“Yeah, but still.”

A scratching feeling, like fingernails on a scab.

“He looks so peaceful now, doesn’t he?” There was a touch inside his head that made his stomach twist, or feel like it. It probably wasn’t there anymore.

I’m not. I’m not. I just can’t move. Something hot and wet dripped down his face.

“Oh— oh, Adrien.” His nurse. Something soft was wiping his cheek. “Don’t cry. I’m here for you.”

“He can’t hear you.” It was hard to keep track of the different voices now. “Not enough cognition to know he’s here.”

“What about that study that showed detectable brain waves at this stage?”

“Residual function. Let’s move on.”

Only the voice from earlier kept talking to him. “Adrien, I’m going to stay. Maybe you can’t hear me, but if you still can… I’m right here. You’re safe, sweet boy.”

Adrien…

That word used to mean something. Like that girl in the spotted suit… or maybe the one he kissed in the classroom. He wasn’t sure which is which. He just knew he loved her.

“You’re almost there.”

That voice… if he strained enough, he remembered blonde hair. Soft hands and piano keys. Mom?

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just rest. That’s all you have to do now.”

Was that right? Shouldn’t there be something else he should be doing? Someone needed him to save them by doing…

…he couldn’t remember. Black rings and white robes and something about saving lives.

And her. Red with black spots. Eyes like… roses? No? Something like that. Beautiful color.

I think it’s okay… I think.

He couldn’t remember why it wasn’t.

She’ll come find me. I’ll just wait here until then.

I’ll be right here…

I…

…

Chapter Text

Most days, Caline Bustier loved being a teacher.

She loved the kids (even Chloé and Lila). she’d always wanted to be a teacher since she was a little girl. There was no career more rewarding for her, and she remembered the names of every one of the students she’d ever had. With the way things were right now, that made it even harder.

When you taught this age group, you had to be prepared to suffer casualties during the schoolyear. Some teachers were indifferent and avoided making any connections with their students,  still some even used the threat of unwinding to scare them.

Caline was neither. She did everything in her power to she protect her kids. If she knew parents who were considering unwinding over grades or behavior, she’d give tutoring and try to get to the root of the problem (sometimes even giving a little ‘extra credit’ if things were really desperate). Some of her proudest moments had been the few times where she had managed to talk a parent out of signing an unwind order. Every one of these kids should have a bright future was a constant thought that came into her head every day. It was less of a mantra and more of a prayer, and for so long it was working. Her classes had dramatically lower unwinding rates compared to other classes at Collège Françoise Dupont or even the national average. 

All until this year.

There were two tithes in her class at the beginning— Aurore and Chloé. She’d known this was going to be a hard year, but nothing prepared her for the day Ivan became a monster. It wasn’t the poor boy’s fault. Why didn’t his parents see that?

Worse was what she’d said that day over the group projects. Tithes were usually less at peace with it than their parents thought, but she’d never known a tithe who was anything but open about their “purpose”. She hadn’t realized the note in Adrien’s papers had only been seen by the school.

She’d blamed herself for not checking with him first. More than that, she blamed herself for every one of her students who was Akumatized. She’d tried so hard to help them with their problems and prioritize their mental health. Hawkmoth’s reign was alarming for anyone, but for her kids, it could be the end. Why doesn’t anyone else see it? They’re kids. This shouldn’t be their job.

She only met Gabriel Agreste once. (He had attended the first parent-teacher conference via tablet, but in her mind that didn’t count.) He’d shifted uncomfortably during the parent-teacher conference while she praised Adrien’s work ethic, grades and character. She sensed something sad behind his smile, like he might be having second thoughts about tithing his son.

She saw the opportunity and she took it. She couldn’t save so many of her kids, but there was still a chance for Adrien. Careful as a cat walking a picket fence, she’d mentioned opportunities at prestigious academies that Adrien would surely be eligible for, most of which by sheer coincidence were in countries with stronger limits on unwinding. Gabriel left with some pamphlets on exchange programs and boarding schools, and she knew if only he would really think about his son’s future, there was a chance.

When she found out Adrien had been tithed ahead of his birthday, she broke down. She couldn’t come to work all that week. She’d done everything she could think of, even when she was supposed to be resting at home, because she knew these kids needed someone. What kind of a teacher was she?

She hadn’t seen the black butterfly that she’d spent the whole year shielding her students from, but once it hit, she suddenly knew what to do.

Nothing would change her mind, not even her daughter’s fluttery kicking and the reminder not to take an extra workload.

Marinette sat on the picnic blanket in a rose garden. White butterflies drifted around her and Adrien, who smiled at her. Nobody else was here— it was just them. The outside world didn’t exist. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and smiled. She reached out to take his hand and…

Her alarm went off. Without thinking or caring, she shoved her phone off the bed and rolled over.

I must have forgotten to turn it off.

Her parents weren’t making her go back to school yet. She wasn’t sure she ever could. Every time she thought about it, she thought about Adrien, and then—

For some reason she’d thought she was done crying. Now she knew she wasn’t. Her pillow was soaked again, and she couldn’t even make out what Tikki was saying to her.

Her phone buzzed.

It was an Akuma alert. She would have rolled over and let Chat Noir handle this one, but she could hear her parents coming up the stairs to check on her again. If they saw her awake, they’d try to talk to her and make her eat something, and she couldn’t handle that right now because she’d cry.

Marinette gathered her extra blanket under the duvet, which was harder than usual. Her hands were shaky and her head wouldn’t clear—maybe when she got back she really should eat. Last night she’d only fed Tikki (who had tried to shove a macaron into her mouth when she was sleeping to get some food into her).

Wait, what am I doing? “Spots On.”

In a few seconds, she’d finished setting up the bed. Much faster.

She was on the roof before the doorknob to her room turned.

Where are you, Chat? Ladybug wondered as she walked down the rooftops. Maybe he didn’t need to be here, though. The Akuma seemed sort of… confused.

Instead of chasing someone down or having a telepathic conversation (she could always tell by the butterfly mask), the woman in armor kept pausing to look at the patterns that covered her skin. It’s supposed to be face paint, right? She’s supposed to have face paint everywhere instead. She had a lance that looked like a long fountain pen, silver like her armor, and it trailed on the ground with a stroke of deep red. Ladybug caught a glimpse of her from the side when she turned a corner and groaned. Ms. Bustier… Chat and I have to be so careful. It looked like the armor was specially fitted for her, but something about an armor plate carefully covering a baby bump was nerve-racking. She’d never put the baby at risk if she was in her right mind.

Honestly, though, being Ladybug again was almost welcome. She’d see Chat, they’d beat the bad guy and he’d make some silly pun that would have her rolling her eyes at him. She probably looked like an actual functioning person, too, thanks to the transformation. Hopefully I can get through this.

The villain in shining golden silver armor, jumped from the roof to the Mayor’s balcony. In the too-bright sunlight, the elaborate patterns on her skin had a metallic glint.

Another spike of pain hammered into Ladybug’s skull. Shouldn’t she have flag colors or something? Shaking her head in a vain attempt to clear it, she used her Yo-Yo to scale closer.

Her feet barely touched the roof directly above before she heard the glass shatter. Ms. Bustier stepped calmly through the broken glass, and several lines of the curling pattern scrawled across her skin lit up as she disappeared inside. Immediately, a scream rang out from the office. Ladybug lost her footing and tumbled down the slope of the roof onto the balcony. She was too far to land a hit and too close to keep the element of surprise.

Oh.

Now she could see the lines weren’t patterns at all. They were names written in her teacher’s elegant handwriting. Some she didn’t recognize, and nearly half were crossed out. The ones that were glowing moments ago had faded slightly.

She managed to look up at her teacher. “I really don’t want to fight you.” For more reasons than one— the entire class knew Ms. Bustier was having a baby and was really supposed to be taking it easy right now.

The Akuma had the terrified Mayor pinned to the wall by his coat with her lance embedded through the fabric. She turned to Ladybug and blinked, looking dazed for a moment. “How… how old are you, really? You look like you could be in my class.”

The pink butterfly mask flickered to life. “Go on. Avenge what you have lost, Professeure! Only you can make sure they never harm your students again, and now Ladybug wants to take that from you!”

It seemed to Ladybug that Professeure could hear Hawkmoth’s voice and was trying her best to ignore it. It must have hurt to fight him, because she shook her head and clenched her jaw tightly. *Looks like I’m not the only one with headache problems today.* This Akuma seemed to be having her own mental crisis.

“Professeure! There’s the girl who is responsible for the… the loss of your students! Take your revenge!”

Her teacher stood her ground, shaking even as Hawkmoth persisted, his voice getting angrier and louder by the second. “Professeure! Professeure! Don’t you dare ignore me!” Her head violently shook from side to side, till at last, she screamed.

It was a horrible, guttural sound that came from Caline Bustier, a sound that seemed to stop Paris, stop the world and shatter the pink mask from Professeure’s face. She closed her eyes tightly and screamed again, but this time, words came.

“I’M NOT TAKING ORDERS FROM YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?! THIS WHOLE ROTTEN CITY IS RESPONSIBLE, ESPECIALLY YOU!”  

It was then that a couple of things happened. First, the gigantic pen was yanked from the wall, dropping Andre to the floor in a heap. Barely a second later, the pen was embedded through the wall. It was only a quick flip of Ladybug’s Yo-Yo that saved Andre’s life, pulling him out of harm’s way as the metal penetrated the plaster behind him. (Andre would have a broken nose when the dust settled, but he was still very much alive.)

Professeure turned on Ladybug, eyes red as her suit but quickly fading. “You’re a child. You don’t have to stand for what this world has done. When the city’s gone, we’ll remake it, better.” The butterfly mask flickered in and out, and it was hard to tell how much of those thoughts were her own. “Get out of my way.”

Ladybug gulped. “I don’t want to fight you, Ms. Bustier... but I’m Paris’s guardian.” The hand clutching her yo-yo was shaking. “I have to protect the civilians. They’re innocent too.”

“Well, then.” Professeure’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose class is in session.”

Ladybug was taking more of a beating than usual— it was like Professeure didn’t even want the earrings. Every time she got close enough to look for the Akumatized object, she’d only make out a name or two before the pen slammed into her. Good thing the Miraculous makes me stronger… She made out the name Aurore Boreale before barely dodging the razor-sharp end of the pen.

I can’t keep doing this. Another failed hit. Ivan Bruel flashed before her eyes as she stumbled back again. Kitty, I need you to help… please…

Truth be told, Ladybug could have beaten Professeure one-on-one if she hadn’t shown so much restraint. However, her opponent was the woman who had once thrown herself in front of a butterfly to stop a student from being Akumatized. It still hurt to remember the Zombizou outbreak; she did it for me. Marinette had never forgiven herself for her anxiety attracting the black butterfly. She was trying to save me… she knew I would’ve been unwound back then…

The dull end of the pen hit her shoulder with enough force to shatter a brick. Socqueline was the name barely visible at the edge of the warrior’s armor, and Ladybug realized with even more guilt that she’d never known her classmate’s last name. She was unwound because of me.

Another hit. She was nearly backed up against the wall now. Even her Lucky Charm was useless— just a little red ring.

How many people lost everything because of me?

The pen held her to the wall like a safety bar on a roller coaster. Professeure’s hand drew back in a fist.

In the brief moment before the knuckles made contact with Ladybug’s face, she made out the words Adrien Agreste.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Hawkmoth looked back in terror at the elevator. He hadn’t heard it come up. Now Nathalie stood with the help of her cane, glaring at him. “Take it off.”

“N— I— wait, please—”

“You heard me, Gabriel.” She advanced, wincing at the pain in her steps. “Take. It. Off.”

He almost argued again, but then just sighed. “Nooroo, Dark Wings Fall.” He’d been losing anyway; Ladybug had taken a cheap shot while he’d been too distracted to coach his champion.

“Well, I hope you’re happy.” He started towards the elevator, but Nathalie blocked him with her cane.

“Of course I’m not happy! You—” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Gabriel, what were you thinking?”

He blinked.

“Oh, I do not have the patience to deal with this today.” Nathalie shook her head. “Let me guess. You got the phone call about Emilie.”

“She’s alive,” argued Gabriel. “It was working.”

The truth was, Emilie’s condition had been worse than his experts estimated. It had taken so much more of Adrien to rebuild her, from the muscles in her limbs to the bone marrow needed to rejuvenate her blood cell production. Although she was now undeniably alive, she had nearly crashed that morning. Gabriel couldn’t bear to be in the room while the doctors struggled to stabilize her, and he had gone home to wait.

Nathalie, of course, didn’t see it that way. “And instead of actually picking up the phone, you came down here and Akumatized that poor woman.”

“She was doing fine until you got here—”

“—AND THEN you took out all your frustrations on the city scenery through Adrien’s teacher. What did you think you were doing to achieve here? You can’t get the Miraculous now!” She was shouting now even though her throat stung from the volume and her eyes stung from tears.

“It wasn’t him.”

She forced herself to look at Gabriel. “What?”

“It wasn’t him.” His voice cracked. “You know that. It couldn’t have been him.”

Gabriel had frantically searched Adrien’s room the night after his tithing. He’d gone through his bathroom and closet, then pulled all the drawers out and emptied them onto the floor. Nathalie had found him pulling the sheets from the bed and shaking them out in a frenzy.

After kicking Gabriel out, she’d made her own search. Hers was organized and methodical as she painstakingly put everything back the way it was, almost like it could do the same for Adrien.

The results were the same. There was no ring anywhere.

“If he’d been Chat Noir, he would have used the ring,” pleaded Gabriel in exhaustion. “I checked his hands on the way over. He didn’t have one.”

“Then what was the point, Gabriel? Why make an Akuma now?”

“Because it’s her fault!”

For a strange, terrible moment, Nathalie wondered who he meant. Then it dawned on her, and suddenly it was even stranger. “Are you talking about…?”

“It’s Ladybug! Don’t you see, Nathalie?! It always comes back to her!” Gabriel dug his fingers into his hair, which was rapidly becoming thinner and whiter than usual. “It’s all because of her. If she had brought her partner, if she would just give me her Miraculous— She’s the one who made me choose between Emilie and Adri—”

He staggered back, blood slowly dripping from his nose. It took him a few moments to process that Nathalie was the one who struck him, and by that time she had him shoved against the wall.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Her face was less than an inch from his now, and even though she hissed every word below a whisper, he shook as if she was yelling. “It is your own fault that you’re here right now.”

“No— if Ladybug had just—“

“Ladybug isn’t the one who had the chance to save Adrien every day.” Her grip on the Butterfly Miraculous tightened, tearing the silk of Gabriel’s suit coat. “You could have let Emilie go, like she would have wanted. Like she told you to in those videos she left that you never watched.”

“I told you to destroy those,” wheezed Gabriel. Nathalie’s entire weight pinned him to the wall by his ribs, and spots were starting to swim in front of his eyes.

“You didn’t watch them because you couldn’t handle the truth. Now you’re blaming everyone else for what you’ve done.”

Nathalie stepped back, letting him fall to the floor. The Butterfly Miraculous sat in her hand, still attached to a scrap of expensive pale purple silk turned dark from Gabriel’s sweat.

“Nathalie…” Gabriel’s head was pounding, worse than ever before. Images danced in his mind, slightly distorted versions of this same conversation, until he couldn’t tell which one was real. “Nathalie, help me up. Please.”

“You don’t deserve my help,” Nathalie snapped. “You don’t deserve anyone’s help.” She slid the Butterfly into her pocket. “I only stayed for Adrien before. Now I’m only staying for Emilie. I won’t leave her to deal with you alone when she wakes up.”

Some of her words filtered through the haze. “When…?”

“She’s stable again, and the doctors think she might be awake soon.” Nathalie sighed and pressed the button for the elevator. “If you’d actually called them back instead of throwing a tantrum, you’d have known already.”

The doors closed and she descended, leaving Gabriel in his darkened sanctuary. The window was covered, the lights were dim and his kwami, Nooroo, had gone with her. I could call the creature back, but she could stop him by holding the Butterfly herself.

For the first time in years, he was truly alone.

Ladybug was still panting. She unfurled her fist slowly and looked down at the sterling silver and tiny wires in her hand. It was, or used to be, an Alliance ring. She could still see the inscription in an impression of Adrien’s handwriting— To my favorite teacher. He must have had it engraved for her.

Ms. Bustier choked back a sob. Ladybug looked up, startled. “I’m sorry.” Her voice gave away that she’d been crying too. “I—I can fix it. I can. Miraculous Ladybug!” She held out the repaired Alliance, tracing over the writing with her fingers.

“No— oh sweetheart, no…” Her teacher had tears streaming down her face. “It’s not anything you did. None of it was you. Whatever I did to you… I’m so sorry…”

Ladybug shakily reached out a hand. “Are you okay?” She’d never seen Ms. Bustier cry so hard in her life. The Cure should have fixed any injuries; the surroundings weren’t damaged anymore and the pain she hadn’t noticed in her shoulder was gone now. Please don’t let her or the baby be hurt…

“Are you?” From the guilt written all over Ms. Bustier’s face, she might remember some of what happened. “Please tell me I didn’t—”

“I’m fine,” Ladybug blurted out. “Really. Just tell me what I have to fix. I’ll do it. It’s my job—”

She was cut off by the former Akuma hugging her. “It shouldn’t have to be. This shouldn’t all fall on you.”

How does she always know? No matter how well she thought she’d hidden it, Ms. Bustier was the only teacher who always knew when she hadn’t slept or when her anxiety was bad again. The wall of adrenaline holding everything back finally broke down and she cried into her teacher’s shoulder until a chime from her earrings let her know she had to head back.

She had maybe thirty seconds left when it finally hit her. Chat hadn’t come. This hadn’t been a quick fight; he had plenty of time to get there. She hadn’t seen him since the fight with Vulpina, right before—

Her stomach lurched. She ducked into an alley just before her suit rippled and faded. Dizziness and nausea flooded her, and she would have thrown up had there been anything in her stomach.

“That was a close one.” Tikki buzzed around her face, taking in her holder’s condition. “Let’s rest for a minute before we go home, okay?”

“Tikki…” Marinette took a shuddering breath. “Is he Chat Noir?”

Tikki froze in midair. “Marinette—“

“Adrien. Tell me it’s not him.” She’d been so clear to Tikki— one of the only orders she’d ever given, the kind kwamis couldn’t break, was never to tell her anything that could reveal her kitty’s identity. If either of them got Akumatized while they knew who the other was, it would be all over. The rule was for the greater good. For our own safety. “Tell me. Now.”

Tikki looked down at the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” She knew why. She knew she’d said not to. She knew it wasn’t fair to scream at Tikki, but the only other one whose fault it could have been was… myself…

She thought she’d cried everything out, but there was so much more. Please no… I can’t lose them both… not Adrien and my sweet kitty…

When she woke up, her phone was ringing and the sky was dark. I cried myself to sleep in an alley… Anything could have happened to me while I was here.

“Marinette?”

Tikki was right there. She’d stayed with her the entire time, making sure she was safe.

Marinette was sure she didn’t deserve her kwami.

Chapter Text

Dealing with Chloé was always exhausting. That was just a fact. Even when she wasn’t Akumatized, she was a force to be reckoned with, and now—

Let’s just get this over with, Ladybug thought, shaking her head. She hadn’t been at the party to see what happened, and since all the news from that day was about Adrien, she hadn’t had the heart to keep up. The only reason she knew now was because Alya told her during her daily check-in phone call (which she answered just so Alya wouldn’t worry too much). She just had to find Chloé before she caused any further damage. She had to. Nobody else could fix this.

It took all night, but she finally found Chloé lazily perched on a high beam at a construction site. Ladybug knew the area from her patrols; it was a good lookout point that wasn’t obvious to anyone on the ground. If Chloé was still thinking clearly, maybe the Akuma didn’t have too strong of a hold on her after all.

Using her yo-yo, she climbed to a beam where she could hopefully watch Chloé without being noticed. There was very little light, but her heightened senses kicked in and she inched closer…

“You know, nobody invited you.” 

Ladybug nearly fell over. She was sure she’d been quiet, but Chloé hadn’t even turned around.

Then Chloé laughed. “Come on, I’m just messing with you. Sit down.”

Against her better judgement, Ladybug took a seat next to Chloé. Now that she was closer, it was obvious how much she’d changed her appearance. There wasn’t a speck of white anywhere on the other girl’s clothes. She wore a jacket that looked like bright yellow patent leather with spikes around the seams. Her hair was tossed into a messy bun with pieces that hung loose, but somehow the black streaks still formed a tight spiral. Tattoos peeked out of the edges of her jacket sleeves, and Ladybug suspected there were far more than what she could see. She looked a little bit like her Queen Bee persona, but nothing like Chloé Bourgeois.

“So, did you come just to stare at me or did you have a reason?” Chloé’s voice snapped Ladybug out of her thoughts and she mentally cursed herself out for letting herself get distracted again. While she was distracted, Chloé had the chance to pull any trick in the book.

“Right.” Ladybug hoped she sounded more confident than she felt right now. “You know the drill, so let’s just make this easy. Where is it?”

Chloé gave her an odd look. “It’s a hair comb. Where do you think I’m wearing it?”

“No, that’s not— wait, don’t tell me that there’s an Akuma in the Miraculous…” How was she supposed to break something like that? Even worse, would that permanently destroy the Bee Miraculous? This night was just getting better and better…

Chloé’s confused expression deepened. “What are you…? Wait… you can’t mean—” She started to laugh into the back of her hand, muffling it to everyone except herself and Ladybug. “You thought I was— oh, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life! Sorry to disappoint;  not Akumatized this time.”

Ladybug looked her up and down as it dawned on her that Chloé was telling the truth. She was far too in control for an Akuma and hadn’t made a single demand.

“You mean— you—” Ladybug felt the color drain from her face. 

It’s all her… She killed those people herself…

If this wasn’t the work of an Akuma, she couldn’t undo the damage. Those people were dead dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

Ladybug stood up and took three or four big steps away from the ledge, partly out of disgust and partly worried that she would be going down over the edge, and that Chloé would find some way to cut her yo-yo. It was a silly fear, she knew, since her gear was virtually indestructible; but if Chloé Bourgeois was a murderer, anything could happen tonight. 

Chloé sat back casually, not seeming even the least bit concerned. “Ladybug. Hey.” She waved a hand, beckoning for her to come back down. “What’s the problem?”

Ladybug felt like her head was about to explode.

“What’s the problem?! You killed four people, Chloé! You’re the most wanted girl in all of Paris!” 

“Six people.” 

“WHAT?!”

“Four juvies and my mother’s two bounty hunters. And I believe I’m the most wanted girl in all of Europe, not just in Paris.” She sounded almost proud of herself, mixed with something Ladybug couldn’t identify and had never heard in her voice before.

Chloe barely seemed fazed. “Relax, it’s not like I really did anything.”

Ladybug stared at her in disbelief. “Wait, it wasn’t you?!”

Chloé laughed. “Of course it was me, but it’s not like any of this is real!” 

“… what…?” Ladybug was once again at a loss for words. She tried to figure out which one of her many, many questions to ask first as Chloé looked out over the city lights, seemingly lost in thought. Well, at very least I won’t have to hand her over to the Juvies… it’s illegal to unwind crazy.

Chloé broke the silence first. “You know, we actually can barely stand each other. It’s too bad, really. I could’ve been a big help. Instead I’m a puppet.” 

Ladybug gripped the metal beam, and she could tell her knuckles were turning white even though she had her gloves on. “You… I can’t bring those people back.”

Chloé didn’t even look at her. “I’m surprised you even want them around—”

It’s not about what I want!” Ladybug snapped. “It isn’t up to me to pick if they get to go home or not. I’m no one’s jury or executioner!” 

For the first time that night, Chloé actually looked genuinely concerned. “Ladybug…”

But the floodgates were open. “Do you think I like basically working with Juvies? I can’t stand them! But if a kid’s taking down a building full of people, and I’m the only one who could stop them... I can’t save everyone.” She was shaking now, clinging to the beam like a lifeline. “I had to de-Akumatize those kids… even though I knew they probably wouldn’t get away…”

Quite possibly for the first time in her life, it was Chloé’s turn to be speechless.

“I can’t believe this…” Ladybug buried her head in her hands. “I’m trying to do the right thing, but I have no idea what to even do… Akuma or not, I wasn’t even going to turn you in tonight. I didn’t think you were doing this on purpose as Queen Bee—”

“It’s not Queen Bee anymore,” Chloé interrupted her. “A reporter on the scene nicknamed me Yellow Jacket before they figured out who I was and the name kind of stuck.”

Ladybug shook her head in disbelief. “That wasn’t my point—”

Chloé held up a hand. “Look, you’re like my age. You’re not supposed to know everything anyway. You always act like you are, but you’re not.” 

“You’ve killed six people. I don’t even know what I need to do now.”

“You can do whatever you like, but it won’t matter! Don’t you see that? When the world gets fixed, it’ll all be normal again. Didn’t you see that?”

Ladybug tilted her head, confused. “What are you talking about? The Miracle Cure doesn’t just do whatever you want.”

Chloé shook her head (wait, did she have piercings?). “I wasn’t talking about that. You know what I meant.”

“No, I really don’t!” Her headache was pounding.

“Just give it some time. Anyway, you know how to find me. I certainly know how to find you, Dupain-Cheng.”

Ladybug was no longer thinking about Chloé pushing her off the beam, but she almost fell off by herself. “I— you must have— I’m not—”

Her heart was pounding. What had she done? She frantically replayed the encounter in her mind, trying to figure out where she slipped up.

(It was moments like this that really made her miss Luka, both as himself and Viperion. He’d know how to calm her racing mind and could have reset the whole conversation if she needed it… why hadn’t she thought to bring the Snake? Never mind if she hadn’t even touched it since… back then.)

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and it took a few more seconds before she processed who it was. The end of a yellow jacket sleeve rested on her shoulder, which was somehow (infuriatingly) calming.

“Okay, stop right there.” She’d only heard Chloé use this tone once, when she was trying to reach Adrien. “I didn’t tell anyone. Not that they’d even believe it, of course…”

Ladybug gently pushed Chloé’s hand off her shoulder. “How long did you know?” She didn’t dare ask if anyone else figured it out.

Chloé thought for a moment. “I’m not sure… it’s just kind of been there in my mind. I don’t think I ever actually found out.”

Ladybug groaned. “How am I this bad at keeping a secret?”

“No, you’re really not that bad.”

It took a lot of effort for Ladybug to not roll her eyes. “…Thanks, Chloé.”

Chloé smirked at her, then seemed to get lost in her thoughts again. “You know, we could make it official.”

Before Ladybug could ask what she meant, Chloé put a hand on the side of her head and whispered, “Buzz off.”

If it was strange to see how Chloé looked before, it was even more jarring to see her without any transformation. Chloé was still wearing her party dress, now dirty and torn almost beyond recognition. She was missing her shoes and one sock. The dark rings under her eyes were no longer hidden by carefully applied makeup, which was now streaked and smeared. She held the Bee Miraculous in her scratched and bruised hands, which shook from lack of sleep.

Suddenly Ladybug had a horrible suspicion. “Have… have you changed back at all since— I mean, you look—”

Chloé shot her a look. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Her stomach growled slightly. “And no, not except for a few seconds at a time when I need to reset. I haven’t been myself in days… at least, not like you’d think.” Pollen was cupped in her hands drinking from a honey packet. She’s taking better care of her kwami than herself.

Then Chloe looked up at her. “Well? If you’re going to say something, say it. You don’t have that long before someone finds your bed empty.”

Ladybug took a deep breath. There was a lot she wanted to say, but somehow only two words made it out.

“Spots Off.”

Chloé Bourgeois had been doing some serious reflecting on her life in the last few weeks and had figured out two things, neither of which she particularly wanted to discuss with anyone. One was the ‘truth’ about her world, which had been lingering since she’d first held the Bee. It was why she’d been so sure nothing she did made a difference. The other had more to do with the people in it, and since that moment before the tithing party when her half-sister pressed the Bee into her hand with a whispered you need this more than I do, she wondered if maybe it did matter after all.

Now it was Chloé who scooted a few feet away from Marinette. Her face must have been redder than the mask that had just disappeared. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette carefully reached out.

“All this time.” Chloe said. “This whole time I’ve looked up to you, admired you, practically worshipped you, and treated you like a garbage.” Chloe slowly turned so that now both girls saw the other face to face, as who they really were. 

“You could have let anything happen to me after what I put you through. And you still choose to save me, multiple times…”  Tears began to show in Chloé’s eyes.

 Marinette felt sorry for Chloé (something that was still hard to understand.) “I wouldn’t have let anything happen.”

“But why?” Chloé shook her head. “You could have made your life so much easier and let any of the Akumas pound me into the ground. You could have left me behind whenever. Nobody would blame you. Even sweet little Rose avoids me.” Her voice trailed off, and she slumped over with her hands in her lap. “Not that she shouldn’t.”

“Don’t say that.” Marinette carefully managed to get close again and took her hand. “Lots of people would care.”

“They shouldn’t,” scoffed Chloé. “You wouldn’t get it. When you save someone, you don’t derail a train to do it. You’re perfect and everyone loves you.”

Me? Perfect?! The idea was so wrong that Marinette actually laughed. “Chloé, I’m the least perfect person on the planet. You sure spent our whole lives making sure I knew that.”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

From anyone else, it wouldn’t have felt like an apology. But from Chloé, it was the world.

The two of them sat together for a long time without saying anything. Chloé broke the silence— she never could go long without talking. “They’d miss you. Don’t let anything happen to yourself, okay?”

Marinette would have attempted a hug if they hadn’t been balancing several stories up— she was pretty sure she’d make them both fall. “That goes for you too.”

“Yeah, right,” Chloé muttered. “What difference does it make now?”

“It makes a difference to Nathan.” And the other kids she’d saved— now she realized Chloé wasn’t just seeking out juvies.

Marinette wanted to ask more, but she really did have to go now that it was snowing— she hadn’t realized how cold it was until that resistance was gone. “Do you need somewhere to stay?”

Chloé pinned the Bee back in her hair. “You really are a perfect goody-two-shoes, you know that?”

Marinette didn’t answer. She’d seen the smile. “Just don’t kill anyone, okay?”

Chloé smirked a little. “No promises. But I’ll save someone, so don’t stress over it.”

“That’s not how that works,” protested Marinette, but Chloé was messing with her again. In spite of everything, she actually smiled at it.

Now it really was time to get going. “Spots On.”

”Buzz On.”

Chapter Text

The first thing she knew was that her chest hurt.

Everything hurt— but there was a strange numbness as well. Pain, then numbness, then both, then finally the numbness had left and the pain became a dull throbbing. It was when the painful feeling reached an even rhythm that she remembered her name. Emilie. 

That was all there was. Emilie and the dull thudding in her chest.

Then everything began to blur again, and she drifted through the most peaceful in-between sleep that anyone could ever experience. After what could have been two minutes or an eternity, the light began to seep in, and she was awake. 

Emilie opened her eyes, taking a gasp of oxygen. Her chest still hurt after all— but she was awake. Alive. She noticed with a large degree of relief and shock that she was alive, that she had somehow made it.

 Emilie looked down at her shaking hands. Everything in her felt raw and sore, but less heavy than before. She could make her foot twitch and feel it. The cough that racked her body down to her knees for years was no longer pressing on her ribs from the inside. Putting all her effort into moving, Emilie tried to sit up.

“Not yet, my love.”

Gabriel sat beside her in a hospital chair. He looked somehow as if he’d gained and lost too much weight at the same time, and his hair was turning gray at the roots. His shoulders were hunched forward, and his eyes seemed much sadder than the man who’d always been able to make her laugh no matter how horrible she felt. “The doctors said you still need to rest. It’ll take time to… regain everything.” His voice caught mid-sentence, and he cupped the side of her face, as if she still might disappear. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Emilie squeezed his hand (he’d been waiting to hold hers since the surgeons took her out of her glass coffin). For a moment she almost panicked because she realized her wedding ring was missing. She might have gotten out of bed and flailed around like a fish looking for it if it hadn’t been for all the medication being pumped through her system. When she looked around for where the doctors might have put it, she noticed Nathalie with one hand covering her mouth.

They stayed with me. They stayed with me through all of it.

It was over. Their nightmare was done, and she could go back to the life they should have been living together all this time. She couldn’t wait— no, she really couldn’t, not any longer.

“Wh—” She coughed again, trying to talk. Her voice must have been hoarse from disuse, and the thought of how long she’d been away weighed her down with guilt all over again.

“What is it, Emilie?” Gabriel held her in his embrace, careful not to disturb any of the machines around them. “Are you in pain? Are you cold? I’ll give you anything. Just say the word.”

He was always so thoughtful, but there was no need for him to be so concerned. Pain didn’t matter right now. There was only one missing piece, and then everything would be perfect.

Emilie swallowed and cleared her throat. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t loud— he was close enough to hear her.

Nathalie turned away, as if she was expecting to hear something terrible.

“Where’s Adrien?”

And that was the moment Gabriel Agreste’s world came crashing down.

Chapter Text

“André!” Audrey stormed into the lavish mayoral office, slamming the door shut behind her with a back kick of her high heel. “What do you think you’re doing, you incompetent moron?”

André was in the process of picking up his desk lamp and putting it into a worn cardboard box. Besides it, there were a few other personal items he cared about. A old soccer jersey from his university days, a letter from his mother, and a picture of him with four-year-old Chloé. All of the tasteful and expensive items in the office were left alone where they stood. They were only in the office because some interior decorator said that they conveyed authority and professionalism. Those items were staying here and could go to Hell for all he cared. 

When her husband hadn’t answered,  Audrey slammed her hand flat on the mahogany desk. “Don’t you dare ignore me,” she hissed. “What were you thinking?”

“You said it yourself, Audrey,” André said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “If I didn’t tithe Chloé, my career would be over.”

The news of the Mayor’s tithe daughter turned feral teen superhuman AWOL had spread like wildfire in the last few days. No matter who Audrey paid to keep it off their network, the next update flooded all the headlines. Some teenage blogger had also reported it from start to finish, keeping the sensation alive despite all of Audrey’s efforts. She’s a little young, but any news channel would take that kid as an intern after this. They might even pay her. It’s a pity I never poached her for my publicity staff. Two hours after the last news network could no longer be blackmailed or bribed into pretending Yellow Jacket might not be Chloé Bourgeois, André formally resigned as mayor of Paris.

“What is wrong with you?” Audrey raged, pointing a manicured finger in his face. “The plan was to take care of her and convince everyone the culprit was that incessant little blogger girl! Nobody would’ve heard from either of them again, and we’d be fine!”

“It was too late for that.” André stood up to his full height, which was still far below Audrey’s. “Unwinding the Ladyblog girl wouldn’t have fooled anyone, and we didn’t have time for it anyway.” 

“If you stuck to the plan, we would. If you could follow simple directions, you’d still be employed! Honestly, André, I have to do everything around here.” Audrey huffed. “Your re-election campaign will have to use every connection we have—“

“It’s over, Audrey,” André said. “My political career is done. There’s no salvaging this one.”

“André!” Audrey waved her hand in front of his face as if he’d simply failed to respond instead of challenging her. “Pay attention! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What I have to say,” André said more firmly now, “is that it’s over. I’ve resigned, Audrey. As of today, I’m no longer the Mayor.”

Audrey stepped back as if he had slapped her, but instead of shock, her face showed only rage. “How dare you! Who do you think you are, to repay me like this?  I’ve done everything for you for as long as we’ve been married!”

“No, Audrey,” André retorted, taking up his little cardboard box. “You’ve done everything over me. My career, my office… you even had me change my legal name.”

“Not this again.” Audrey let out a long sigh, as if she were a bedraggled victim subjected to yet another bought of pointless drama. “You needed something memorable and pronounceable for the ballot. And I was right— your approval jumped by 12% in six weeks once we started making changes. If we stuck to the plan—”

“We never had a plan, Audrey! You did!” Andre didn’t even know he was yelling now. “You came back from New York and made me put Chloé back in white! I don’t care what the voters think. It was the wrong decision then and it’s still the wrong decision!” 

“There you go again.” Audrey scoffed. “Ugh, this is why everyone hates you.”

“No,” Andre said, picking up the box again. “It’s only why I’ve hated myself.”

Why had it taken so long for him to realize it? He’d never liked the person Audrey had turned him into. He’d spent the last two decades feeling only half-alive, and now the blur was gone.

“This is not up for discussion.” Audrey tried to grab the box from him, but he sidestepped her (not easy given his portly frame).

“You’re right.” He wiped tears from his face with his sash before he hung it carefully over the office chair. “It’s not.”

Audrey gritted her teeth. “I’ll stop this. I’ll say you resigned while Akumatized and they’ll have to give you your job back.”

“And then what? You said it yourself so many times. They’ll never re-elect me.” He stood his ground and looked up at her. “Unwinding those girls will do nothing now. I couldn’t have it done anyway, since I no longer pay the police department.”

Audrey stamped her foot, leaving a small square indent in the carpet from heel. “You are insufferable.”

Andre took this moment to slip past her and go for the door, but she caught him by the collar of his suit. “Care to explain where Zoé is, at least?”

It was sarcastic. Audrey didn’t care about her daughters except as bargaining chips, and Zoé never had much value as a political chess piece unless the public knew about her. André nearly told Audrey that her daughter was safely back at boarding school in the States (though he would never say where or under what name), or that she’d never be found by the wrong people, or even that he knew the full truth of what happened in New York after Audrey walked out on their little daughter and didn’t look back until election season.

Instead, he simply opened the door and said, “So you do know her name.” 

He walked away from the fancy building and got into the passenger seat of the limo, still holding the box. As good as it finally felt, he was drained and now thinking about it how lonely it was really going to be in that big penthouse with nobody to talk to.

Maybe he’d get himself a goldfish.

Chapter Text

 Emilie’s steps were even and steady, almost gliding, but her chest ached terribly. She couldn’t remember why, so she just kept walking through the city streets.

She turned a corner and was at one of her favorite places in Paris: a stretch of bank by the river where she and her family had a picnic once. Adrien was probably too little to remember, but he’d had such a good time just collecting pretty pebbles and splashing in the water. She could hear the laughing and splashing now that she listened.

But the splashes were too deep and the laughter turned into terrified cries. She followed the sound and gasped at the sight in front of her.

A tiny kitten, too young to be without a mother, struggled in the darker part of the water. He kept calling to the empty streets while his paws flailed, trying to stay afloat.

Standing in the water near the tiny black ball of fur was a shadowed figure. Dark purple, like velvet decaying in a forgotten attic, and with an outline that shifted like thousands of insect wings. The figure reached out and shoved the kitten’s face under the water again.

Emilie couldn’t help it. She ran into the water, grabbing the black kitten and holding him to her chest. The kitten sputtered, took a deep gasp of air and nuzzled into her shoulder, shivering.

Emilie turned to the man, if you could give that title to this monster. She glared, cupping her hands protectively over the kitten (who dug his claws into her shirt in fear).

The moonlight sent a shaft down from the dark sky, and she suddenly realized there had been no stars. That was nothing compared to her shock when the whirlwind of moths dissipated and she saw who was standing next to her, chest-deep in the cold water.

“Gabriel?”

Emilie awoke with a gasp. Her heart stuttered and fell back into rhythm.

She hated these nightmares. The sleeping meds did nothing to clear them from her mind.

At least it wasn’t one of the bad ones, she thought. Night after night, she’d seen Adrien in her dreams. He was standing a long way off, and he looked like he was crying. She always tried to go to him, but whenever she reached him, he wasn’t there. The nightmare hurt in ways that most didn’t.

According to her bedside clock, it was 3:00 in the afternoon. Emilie gritted her teeth and climbed out of bed, bracing herself on the nightstand. At first she thought her legs wouldn’t hold her with the way they felt more like a prop than a part of her, but she managed to stay standing for twenty seconds. In her mind, that was enough.

She was going to fulfill her mission today.

Slowly, painstakingly, she made her way down the hallway. Thank goodness Gabriel’s office wasn’t far— he’d had the habit of working late and wanted the shortest walk possible when he was tired enough to go to bed. Of course, that was assuming he didn’t fall asleep in a pile of designs first. She giggled to herself in spite of the pain, remembering the time he had an ink print of his dress design on his cheek one morning.

Her steps wobbled, and she barely caught herself against the wall. Focus. I have to find him.

The painkillers were so strong that the doctors advised Emilie stay away from phones and the internet unless someone was there to help her. When Gabriel and Nathalie were there, she usually didn’t want to be on the phone anyway— all she wanted was to catch up.

Well, and one more thing.

Barely making it through the office door, Emilie leaned against the frame to catch her breath. She was here, where Gabriel kept his office phone.

If she was honest with herself, she did feel a little guilty over this. It wasn’t like she hadn’t asked Gabriel, and he’d promised not just a phone call but a visit once she was “back on her feet.”

She grinned like a kid who was given permission to watch one episode of a cartoon and found a 3-hour special. This counts, doesn’t it?

She had no idea what time it was in London. Hopefully the boarding school would put Adrien through even if it was late.

She missed him desperately, but she understood why Gabriel had enrolled him during her coma. Adrien was so sweet and well-behaved, but Gabriel could barely take care of himself when she thought she was near the end. She hoped Adrien hadn’t felt rejected.

Then again, Adrien had always been asking about school as he got older. He had the finest tutors money could buy, but had only Chloé and occasionally Félix for company his age. Emilie had been so afraid of something happening to him, of someone looking too closely at some overlooked detail, and what that could mean for his safety. Biologically, he was human, and Emilie had never for a moment considered him anything except her baby. Her son. What if others found out and didn’t see him how she did?

She shook her head, regretting it instantly as the dizziness hit in another wave. She’d make it up to him for all those years she and Gabriel had hovered too much. If anything, he was probably having the time of his life at boarding school. She wanted to take him home, but that decision was for another day. Right now she just needed a phone call.

The office was messier than Nathalie usually made Gabriel keep it, and Emilie wondered how much of their days was needed to look after her. It wasn’t too hard to find Gabriel’s old landline, though, and after a few missed moves with numb hands she managed to pick it up. Her finger hovered over the buttons.

Who was she calling?

She didn’t know what school Adrien was attending. What kind of a mother am I? She was sure she’d asked, but in her foggy, medicated memories, she thought she remembered multiple different names. None of them were probably right, and she didn’t have the numbers for any of them. Now what?

Then she caught her pale, half-dead reflection in the mahogany and laughed. She really must be a bit slow from the medicine if she hadn’t thought of this sooner.

Gabriel had picked a boarding school in London. Of course neither of them would leave their son alone so far from here. He must have chosen the location because it was close to family.

Humming to herself and feeling like she could dance (pain in her muscles notwithstanding), she dialed Amelie’s number.

A few moments passed, and then her sister’s voice came through. “Are you ready, Félix?” It was very muffled, like someone trying to whisper and not doing a very good job.

“Mommm,” her nephew complained.

“Come on, Félix. It’ll only take a minute.” Amelie’s voice got louder and clearer, like she’d moved her hand off the microphone. “You’ve reached Amelie Graham De Vanily!”

“And Félix,” huffed the annoyed voice in the recording.

“Okay, now both—” That was in a whisper and then, loudly, “Leave us a message!”

Emilie laughed at the voicemail. She could just see Félix’s face. He must be so tall now. We’ll all have to get together when we visit.

She tried Colt Fathom’s number next. Her sister’s husband wasn’t her favorite person— his marriage to Amelie was essentially a business transaction on their parents’ part— but he would probably put her through.

A beeping sound told her the number had been disconnected.

She tried Amelie again, listening through the whole voicemail message. Then again, and again, until after she’d almost decided she was done for the day—

“IF YOU CALL ME AGAIN I SWEAR I WILL COME TO YOUR BIG STUPID HOUSE AND KILL YOU!”

Emilie stumbled from the force of the roar and nearly landed on the carpet. “Amelie, is that you? What’s going on?”

She pulled herself back to her feet. With all the drugs in her system she was about as graceful as a baby deer stepping into the sunlight for the first time, but she managed to stay standing and get the phone back to her ear again. Amelie was silent for two seconds, three, four, and Emilie almost thought she’d hung up. Then—

“So you’re back.” Before she could answer, Amelie burst into hysterical laughter or tears, or both.

Emilie felt like the worst sister in the world. She hadn’t called Amelie since she’d woken up. After she spoke to Adrien, she’d call back and get her sister all caught up. “Amelie. It’s okay. I woke up, and I’m getting better every day.” Maybe a slight exaggeration, but she’d get there. “Everything’s alright.”

“No. I don’t believe this.” Amelie weakly laughed. “NONE OF THIS is okay!” Her scream nearly bowled Emilie over again. “You of all people should understand. You— you don’t get to come back. Not when he doesn’t. It’s— it’s not right.”

What on Earth? Emilie racked her brain for her last conversation with Amelie. Sure, they fought from time to time, but all siblings did, even twins. What could she have possibly done to make Amelie so upset?

Swallowing back her tears, she tried again. “I’m—I’m very sorry for upsetting you, Amelie. Please tell me how I can fix it.”

Amelie let out a noise that was either a cackle or a sob. “You can show up with Félix and Adrien. Honestly, if anyone would understand what I’m going through…” Her voice cracked. “I thought you would. Nothing else hurts like this.”

“Amelie, please, wait—”

There was a click, and Emilie finally collapsed.

What was going on with Amelie? She knew she should be avoiding stress—her cardiologist said so— but why wouldn’t Gabriel tell her something was so serious? Then again, would Amelie have told him? She didn’t sound well, and Emilie hoped someone was staying with her.

“Amelie…” Emilie whispered, the room spinning again even though she lay still. “What happened?” 

Her head felt stuffy. She closed her eyes, trying to block the glare of the light shining off the nearly-empty crystal decanter. Gabriel was right, Emilie thought. I should have waited.

From the moment she’d woken up, there had been a feeling of wrongness in her chest, like whatever was there didn’t belong. She’d barely mentioned it to Nathalie, and asked her to promise not to tell Gabriel.

Why?

Gabriel had done everything he possibly could to help her get better. She could tell him anything. That was always the case, ever since they were students stealing moments between their classes. So what if he didn’t bring me a phone? So? Gabriel loves me. He can be a little distant sometimes, but he loves me and is a wonderful husband and father. A warm smile played on Emilie’s pretty lips, but a voice sudden and sharp came from the back of her head and cut her like a knife. Then why don’t you trust him?

“I do,” Emilie answered aloud.

  Then why did you wait until he left to sneak in here, like it’s not your own house?

Emilie thought for a long time, and the only thing she could think of was that she was stubborn. Even as a little girl, she’d never let anyone tell her what not to do. Her parents told her she couldn’t play in the woods, and she spent every unsupervised second climbing trees and looking under bushes for hedgehogs. They told her she’d be out of the will for marrying Gabriel, and she gave him her savings as seed money to build a fortune of his own. The doctors told her she’d never have a baby, and… well… she smiled to herself, remembering the ultrasound appointment where she heard her son’s heartbeat for the first time.

She was just too stubborn to be told no, even in the most gentle, roundabout way. Gabriel was right; she really should be in bed.

At least the carpet was clean.

The sunbeam on the decanter slowly shifted until the light was covering Emilie’s face in a soft haze. She hadn’t felt the time passing until a yelp came from the doorway.

“Emilie?” A pile of papers scattered to the floor as Gabriel rushed to her side. “What are you doing in here?”

There was no anger or irritation in his voice, just worry and so, so much confusion. She couldn’t blame him; she’d left the nice, warm bed for something she could just as easily have asked for.

“It’s alright, Emilie. I’m here.” As gently as she’d ever felt him, Gabriel lifted her into his arms and carried her bridal-style back into the bedroom. If she hadn’t been in pain and exhausted, she would have made a joke about their wedding night. Instead, she let him place her on the bed like a relic on velvet. Back in her glass case.

Didn’t Gabriel tell you it wasn’t time yet? the cruel voice in the back of her head mocked her. He did, Emilie replied to herself. “And I should have listened.”

“What, my love?” Gabriel asked as he brought her medicine— she must have missed a dose while she was collapsed on his office floor.

“Nothing,” she told him, forcing a smile. “I’m just tired.”

He waited while she took her pill, and then dimmed the lights so she could get some sleep. Emilie watched the door close and let out a sigh. She’d rest first, and then talk to him about it. Tomorrow.

She leaned back on the pillows and let her muscles relax as the pain meds started to kick in. Tomorrow I’ll ask Gabriel to cut back the meds. Then I’ll spend a couple of days getting adjusted, and then I’ll see Adrien…

Her heart stuttered, and she winced at the deepening ache. Starting tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Another portal glowed bright in the Burrow and Bunnyx vaulted through it, laughing. Even with the Miraculous enhancing everything, her heart pounded like a rabbit’s and she was sweating hard.

“Whew!” She’d already caught her breath— recovery time was basically nothing with her powers. If only I had this when I was still playing around with Kim. He’d have had his whole body inked up.

The powers had their limits, however, because when she stopped moving, the headache hit her like a freight train. Alix groaned, crouching down and holding her head. She hated when this happened. Especially because moving at all made it hurt more. And worse still, the headaches seemed to be getting stronger and lasted longer  as time went on. 

She sighed and winced, rolling to a stop. There was nothing to do but sit down and wait, which was the worst part of her adventures as Bunnyx. 

Maybe I could sleep through this one, Alix lied to herself. She knew for a fact that she usually couldn’t, and if she did, the dreams would be all messed up. Still, stupid messed-up dreams are better than laying awake and thinking about it. Alix was a tough skater girl, but just that little thought made her want to puke. She probably couldn’t go to sleep, but she would have to try.

Now that she’d stopped moving, her powers were going dormant. Her twitching muscles went still, the rush was over, and she could feel how tired she was. The only part of her moving fast was her chest rising up and down.

When Alix kept moving, she didn’t feel much except for joy and the high she got off of the speed. However, when she stopped, everything seemed to hit her all at once. “Including the dreams.”

Bunnyx flopped onto her back, feeling annoyed that she was talking to herself again. “I miss Kim,” she muttered, before closing her eyes and trying to let sleep take her. 

 The Burrow was white and glowing, but that wasn’t why she couldn’t sleep. She should have been able to, even with her transformation back into Alix; she’d just crashed a chariot race and completely shocked a few hundred ancient Egyptian spectators by bursting across the finish line in glowing blue. She grinned. “Man, if Dad or Jalil  could know, they’d be so jealous.” Her smile faded, and she sighed again. Will I ever really see those two again?

Alim Kubdel had not just saved his daughter from unwinding when he gave her the Rabbit Miraculous— he’d given her unlimited adventure, a ticket to play any game in history. The adrenaline was enough to keep her from missing home.

At least that’s what she told herself. Most of the time, it was true. But not right now. 

The watch was always ticking. She’d gotten used to it, like a second heartbeat. Without a word, she unclipped it from her belt and held it in her hand. Dad.

Ever since she was a little kid, she’d seen him pull the watch from his pocket and check the time. However, she never knew just how special the family heirloom was until the first portal opened at the Harvest Camp. (That place was always capitalized in her mind.)

All she had to do was say the word. Counterclockwise. And then she could stop being the unbeatable Bunnyx for a while and be Alix Kubdel. The version of herself who still hurt.

When she was Alix, she’d feel everything— the exhaustion and the injuries that the transformation held back. Thanks to her powers, she healed faster, but they were still there. What would have crippled a man in his prime took around two weeks to heal (or however time worked in here), but during those two weeks it was Hell. 

So she lived in a cycle, as many times as the hands of a click went around. Go to different points in history, do some stupid stunt like rollerblading down the pyramids full speed or charging headlong into a musket volley at Waterloo. Enjoy the thrill until she pushed it too far and her powers hit their limits, and then wait in the Burrow until her powers put Humpy Dumpy together again. Things really haven’t changed a bit, have they?

She tossed the watch lightly into the air and caught it, still on her back. The watch-chain kept it connected to her, so she never missed. Over and over, and she’d never dropped it.

She’d probably never stop running. Some nights, though, she really thought about it.

That was the scary part. Usually all the running kept her from thinking about what would happen if she stopped.

She was fourteen years old when her father hugged her tight and gave her the key to freedom. What if there hadn’t been anything he could have done?

She’d have fought every step of the way, of course. That was just how she was. What about after, though, when there was nothing left to run from? Was it peaceful, like they said, or just nothing? Was either one worse than this kind of tired?

What if she just… stopped?

She didn’t get these everywhere. If it was more than a few decades before her old life, she never got the headaches when she was out exploring. Even if she went to her own time, it wasn’t quite everywhere— she went to Mars once and made faces into the rover’s camera, and that didn’t do anything except maybe confuse a few scientists back on Earth. It was just her own time and most places with people that did it. Her guess was the Burrow didn’t like her being there. Maybe it was trying to keep her safe.

Or maybe she wasn’t meant to be here past that school year. The Burrow almost never let her go into the future, and when she did, it felt wrong. She was hit with so much nausea and flashes of another life that she didn’t even get through the portal. Maybe it was just her destiny, and the Burrow didn’t like it.

Whatever this was, there was always a horrible overwhelming feeling that the world was wrong— or maybe just herself. Maybe she only saw the future in fractured flashes because that was how it ended.

The worst nights were the ones where she wondered if she could trade never being still for never being whole.

Chapter Text

Gabriel’s head was killing him— too much alcohol and still not enough to not wonder. He channeled every bit of his anger, pain and grief into his Akuma, and the unfortunate man who was transformed became nothing more than his mental punching bag with feathers.

He’d been thinking about it since the moment he got home from that hospital. Was my boy awake?

Tithes were supposed to be awake. Just like any ordinary unwind, the law required Adrien to be awake. It wasn’t uncommon for rich parents of tithes to arrange for sedation, but any hint of illegal activity, anything at all, could have destroyed his chance of saving Emilie. It all had to be above board and by the book, at least as far as the unwinding itself went.

Still, he’d tried to hint that it was what he wanted for Adrien. He’d told that doctor in the waiting room to make him comfortable, and then he’d gone home and forced himself into a state of denial that the hospital knew what he really meant.

There was no way to know now. Those surgeons and techs were the world’s best; surely they wouldn’t hesitate to report a direct question to some kind of authorities. The question was haunting his mind day and night, and his head hurt.

“Gabriel. Again?”

Half-drunk and fully exhausted, Hawkmoth looked up at Nathalie.

She glared down at him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

He faintly wondered why she was so much taller than him, and slowly came to the realization that he was on the floor.

“It’s the last time, Nathalie,” he slurred. “Just one last time.”

“Mr. Ramier, are you alright?” Ladybug tried very hard not to sound frustrated.

All things considered, it wasn’t the worst fight. Mr. Pigeon wasn’t hard to beat even by herself, and she didn’t even need to use her Lucky Charm. The part that made her so irritated—and concerned— was how much this happened.

He didn’t respond, just pulled a handful of breadcrumbs out of his pocket and hand-fed a pigeon.

“I just wanted to check in, Ladybug tried again. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”

Mr. Ramier shook his head. “No, no, it’s alright. Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Ladybug watched a few more pigeons land on his arms and shoulders. “It’s just that… this is the 72nd time you’ve been Mr. Pigeon.”

“I just get so upset sometimes, don’t I, Edgar?” He gave a gentle head scratch to a pigeon pulling gently at his hair. “Humans can be so cruel to the poor birds. I don’t understand how they can mistreat someone so small and defenseless.” He took off his hat, which was stuffed with a pile of identical brochures. The pigeon grabbed a corner in his beak and dragged it down to the cobblestones.

Despite everything, Ladybug found herself laughing.

“Edgar is such a funny bird.” Mr. Ramier smiled with her. “Most pigeons only use sticks and sometimes straw to build their nests, but he likes paper. Have you ever seen a pigeon do that before?”

“I can honestly say I haven’t.” Ladybug turned back to him. “I know a few tricks for stress management when things get overwhelming.” Like the nights I screamed into my pillow until I couldn’t breathe. “I can teach them to you if you want.”

Mr. Ramier shook his head. “That’s very generous of you, but I really will be late. I have a consultation to go to.” He dusted off his worn, patched coat. “I’m not so interested in their offer, but they keep sending me these pamphlets in the mail and they usually let me talk for a while before they start asking if I want to sign.”

So like a therapy session, or…? Ladybug wasn’t about to ask him about something so private, but it was good that he was getting help. Something was a little weird about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it until a gray blur flew onto Mr. Ramier’s head and pecked his hat sharply.

“Edgar, behave!” the man lightly scolded. “We have company! You know I’m coming back. I always do.” He gently set the pigeon on the ground. “He hates it when I go to these. I think he worries.”

“It was nice to see you,” Ladybug tried, but he was already headed off.

She would have left too if the pigeon hadn’t dragged the brochure across the ground, fluttering like a wet mop until he sat glaring right in front of her with the corner of the paper clamped tightly in his beak. I didn’t know pigeons could make that face.

“What have you got there, Edgar?” She wasn’t really sure if this was Edgar, but the bird let her take the brochure. When she saw what it was, her stomach pitched again.

She doesn’t think about it much.

No— that’s not true. She thinks about whenever an Akuma shows up, or one is mentioned on the news. It’s just not always in her mind the way Adrien is. Sometimes she can even forget.

That all changes when she gets the mail for her parents, two weeks after a bus trip gone wrong. She’s bringing it in like usual, because sometimes doing things keeps her from thinking too much. She’s sorting the junk mail, bills and personal mail at the table (even though nobody asked her to do that, because it’s just something to do and nobody gets hurt if she does it wrong) when her eyes catch a familiar brochure in pastel blue.

Her first thought is more like an image— she’s back with the pigeons, looking at what Mr. Ramier has so many of. Voluntary Adult Unwinding and You: Professional consultation to discuss your options.

Her hands were shaking then and they are now.

She turns it over and reads the name on the mailer. Sabine Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette registers that her fingertips are going numb before she realizes she’s not breathing right. She tells herself to breathe— maybe Tikki is the one telling her, actually, but nothing’s getting through. Her whole body is shaking.

Mom didn’t mean to. It wasn’t even her fault— if I hadn’t gotten off the bus with her ticket, that horrible man would have left her alone… I did it to her then and I’m doing it again now…

The shaking doesn’t stop when she feels a very, very gentle hand tug the mailer away. Only when she registers that the sound she’s hearing is her name does she manage to lift her head.

“I’m so sorry…” She’s crying so hard she hiccups. She hasn’t cried like this since— no no no, you can’t, not now, not when— 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Her mother pushes the brochure away and gently pushes a strand of hair out of her face. “Remember what I told you after it happened? It isn’t your fault when some people decide to be unfair.”

“But the ticket…”

“It’s over, sweetheart.” Her mom could have been on the edge of tears herself. “I promise.”

“No, it’s not,” Marinette choked out, reaching for the brochure again. “They— they’re trying to—”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” Was it her imagination, or was there a tremor in her mom’s voice this time? “Can I hug you?” 

She nodded. Everything felt warmer again, almost safe.

Her mom held her tight and gently ran her fingers through her hair until both of them felt steady enough to breathe. It made Marinette feel like she was little again, coming home after Chloé gave her a bad day at school.

“They can’t do anything to me,” Sabine whispered. “It’s not like that. This—“ she pushed the brochure off the table and into the recycling basket with one hand— “is just asking for a discussion. It doesn’t put anything in motion, and I wasn’t going to go anyway.”

Marinette shook her head. “But…”

Sabine hugged her again, more tightly than before. “It’s only a consultation, and I don’t even have to go. I was never going to agree to meet with those people. I love you, Marinette, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Marinette managed to get a word out. “Promise?”

“I promise, sweet girl. I’ll tell you anytime you need me to remind you. I’m not going anywhere.” Sabine kissed her daughter on top of her head. “I love you too much for that.”