Chapter Text
There was no thunder or lightning when it happened. Adrien just slumped back in his desk chair, all the energy gone, and stared ahead at his computer screen. He’d been studying for his philosophy exam ever since he’d come home, and now it was impossible to focus. Not because he was overworked, but because of the idea that had hooked its claws into his brain days ago, now digging deeper than ever.
‘Plagg…what if it’s really possible.’
In his periphery, Plagg looked from his cheese magazine as he lounged the bed. ‘That you’re a fictional character?’ There was more than a touch of scepticism in his voice.
‘I know how it sounds, Plagg, but…so many philosophers have proposed similar ideas. That we’re someone’s dream. That we’re in a simulation. That we’re made up. What if…what if it’s true?’
Plagg shot him one of those looks only a kwami could give. One that said he’d been around since time immemorial and still hadn’t figured out these beings who called themselves ‘humans’. ‘…do you feel imaginary?’
Adrien let out a flat laugh. How did one feel imaginary? ‘I’m not sure about that, but…sometimes I do get hit with these moments of…surrealism. Like everything in my life is a little…fantastic.’
‘Like what?’
Adrien frowned, then turned to face his kwami. ‘Plagg…I have superpowers.’
‘Okay, I admit that is a little fantastic, but that doesn’t mean made up. What other evidence do you wish to present to the Court?’
Adrien almost laughed again. Where did he even start? ‘Plagg. Less than six months ago, I was kidnapped by my own father and locked away in a sensory deprivation room. Does that sound like the kind of thing that normally happens to people?’
‘Hm. I admit it is unusual…but you do hear stories like that in the news.’
Adrien groaned and leaned back in the chair.
Plagg flew over, hovering in front of his face. ‘Sorry. I can see this is distressing you. But I don’t think you’re imaginary. As weird as your life might be…it’s still your life. It’s real. You’re real.’
Adrien gave him a numb nod, then sat up straight. ‘I guess I’d better finish my homework. Enjoy your magazine.’
Plagg held his eyes, then nodded and flew back to his bed, and Adrien continued with his reading.
But the idea wouldn’t leave his mind. Even when night fell and he went to bed, it stayed with him like a cold companion, wrapping its arms around him and refusing to let go.
It was still with him when he woke the next day, after torturous, broken sleep. It followed him to school, sitting beside him in each of his morning lessons. With each moment that passed, he caught himself viewing life – the whole world – through a new lens. Question after question flew through his head.
How had Miss Bustier managed to put this school together in a single summer? Somehow, in just a few months, she’d organised the theoretical and architectural designs, the planning permission, the building work, the decorators, the suppliers, the staff, a brand new curriculum fully approved by the educational authorities, student applications….
If he really thought about it, it was crazy.
By the time lunch came around, he was in a deep funk, unable to hide it from his friends at the cafeteria table. He ate his sandwich in silence, hardly lifting his head to meet anyone’s eyes, one crucial question cycling through his head.
Is everyone living in the Matrix? Or just me? Am I imaginary…or is it them?
What’s REAL?
Beside him, Marinette – beautiful, sweet Marinette – leaned in close to him and whispered, ‘Is everything okay?’
He jumped a little. He’d almost forgotten where he was or who he was with.
Before he could feed her a lie, she took his hand, squeezing it. ‘I thought as much. Maybe we could go somewhere private to talk?’
Talk. The word set his heart racing, both because he wanted to and he didn’t. But it would raise more questions if he said no, so he gave her a small nod. ‘I’d like that.’
She gave him a warm, supportive smile, and they gathered up their things, giving their friends their apologies. Then she linked arms with him and guided him out of the cafeteria.
Her touch made him shiver, just like it always did. Yet his heart was pounding even harder, now. Ever since his father had died, there’d been this – this wall between him and Marinette. At first, he hadn’t noticed it. Being with her…well, he’d never felt so free. But something had changed. She’d changed. Every time he was around her, he couldn’t shake the sense that she was keeping secrets.
They exited the building and found a shady spot on the grass outside, away from others. Seated close together, she gave him a soft kiss on the mouth, then cupped his cheek. ‘It’s good to be alone with you, for a change.’
He leaned into her palm, a small sigh escaping his lips. ‘It is.’
‘But something’s bothering you.’
‘…yes.’
She gave his face a gentle squeeze before releasing it, taking his hand instead and holding it in her lap. ‘Adrien…what is it?
He stared down at their hands, their fingers interlaced. Even locked together like this, he still felt it – that wall. She wanted him to talk, but what about her?
Letting out a long, heavy breath, he looked up again, meeting her eyes – her gorgeous eyes as blue as the sky above. ‘It’s my philosophy paper. It’s been…. Well, I guess you could say it’s got me thinking.’
She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. ‘About what?’
He pursed his lips, trying to think how to say it – then went for the blunt approach. ‘Have you ever felt like you might not be real?’
Her thumb went still, her hand tightening around his. ‘R…real? Not – not real? Why would you – why would you not be real?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s just something I was reading about and, well…. What if it were true? What if someone just…made me up?’
She blinked at him. And blinked at him some more. Then she let out a high-pitched titter, withdrawing her hand and swatting his shoulder – a little too hard. ‘How funny you are, Adrien!’
‘…funny?’ He rubbed his shoulder.
‘Yes – funny! As if you’re not real. Of course you’re real! I mean, what else could you be? It’s not like someone just breathed you into existence – right?’
‘Uh….’
‘Oh, no, no, no, no, no! You’re as real as I am, Adrien, yes-sirree. Solid and real. Look – look!’ She slapped his arm. ‘Feel that?’
‘Ouch! Yes!’
‘Ha! See? You wouldn’t feel pain if you weren’t real. Maybe someone should’ve slapped those silly philosophers you’re reading about, eh? Oh! By the way – and this is a totally unrelated question – you never take off your parents’ wedding rings, right? Not even in the shower or anything?’
His brows furrowed in confusion. ‘No, I…I don’t think I could bring myself to do that, to be honest. They help me feel like there’s still a part of my parents with me, even though they’re both….’
‘Wonderful!’ Her eyes flew wide, like she’d just heard what she’d said. ‘Sorry! Not wonderful! All I mean is it’s wonderful that you have that connection with them and you keep the rings on – and it’s wonderful that you’re real, Adrien. You. Are. Real. Okay?’
She’d grabbed his hand again and was leaning in close, her right eye twitching.
‘Wow, Marinette. I didn’t know this would upset you so much. It was just a silly thought experiment. You don’t need to worry about it.’ He tried for a smile, even while he tried to draw back.
She leaned in closer still, her eyes narrowed like she was studying him. Then she nodded and pulled away, shooting him a sheepish half-smile. ‘S-sorry if I…got a little carried away there. I just…I worry about you after all that happened and….’
This time, his smile came without effort. ‘It’s okay, Marinette. Forget about it.’
Her smile widened, too – and she changed the subject.
He tried to pay attention to what she was saying, but his mind drifted. The way she’d reacted….
Did she know something?
The thought lingered with him the rest of the day, occupying his mind through his afternoon classes and all the way home. At dinner, he stared at his plate, only eating when Nathalie reminded him, before drifting back up to his room as if in a dream. One ‘good’ thing about losing his father was that, apart from Marinette, no one asked what he was thinking about. No one pushed him to engage more. They were all waiting for time and therapy to take effect.
Back in his room, he leaned against the door, letting his eyes go lazy as Plagg flew out to have some dinner of his own – if you could call it dinner when he’d just eaten half an hour ago. ‘Plagg.’
‘Mm?’ Plagg’s mouth was already stuffed to bursting with cheese.
‘What if…what if everything that’s happened to me is…some kind of cruel joke thought up by a…a heartless writer?’
Plagg’s brow rose, and he swallowed down his mouthful. ‘Sorry, but…what?’
‘Think about it, Plagg. If I’m a fictional character…then everything in my life was thought up by some – some creator. It makes sense, right?’
‘Uh…if by it makes sense, you mean you were more affected by that sensory deprivation chamber than we thought…then sure.’
‘I’m serious, Plagg.’
‘So am I.’
Adrien turned to him. ‘Are you familiar with the Biblical Book of Job?’
‘Of course. I’m even familiar with Job himself.’
That was…a fact to be picked apart another day. ‘So you know what happened to him.’
‘Sure. Supposedly, God and the Devil had a wager over how far they could push him before he’d snap and give up his faith in God.’
‘…supposedly? I thought you said you knew him.’
‘I did – and what he went through was appalling – if that’s even an adequate word for it. But I couldn’t tell you for certain whether it was down to cosmic forces or just awful luck.’
‘Even though you’re a cosmic force yourself?’
‘I’m an energy given form. You’re talking about God.’
‘Right….’ Adrien chewed at his lip.
Plagg flew back over him, hovering in front of his face. ‘Are you saying you think some…writer…is just throwing awful stuff your way to see how long you can hold up before you break?’
Adrien shrugged. ‘I guess?’
Plagg frowned. ‘Adrien. Lots of people go through hard times. It doesn’t mean there’s some sinister force behind it.’
‘But you don’t know that, do you.’
‘Well, no, but –’
‘So there could be.’
‘…I suppose it’s –’
‘Right. So I’m not crazy.’
Plagg’s head and arm sagged. ‘I never said you were crazy, Adrien.’
‘No, but you were definitely worrying about my mental state. Everyone is – and I don’t blame any of you. I’m worried, too. But this…this feels big, Plagg. There’s something going on.’
Plagg pursed his lips, like he was trying to decide how best to reply. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’
Wasn’t that the question? ‘I – I don’t know. I guess the first step would be to…find the writer….’
‘…find the writer?’
‘Well…yeah.’
‘And how are you going to do that?’
Adrien opened his mouth to reply – then closed it. Then opened it again. ‘Gods are usually somewhere up high, right? The Greek gods were up on Mount Olympus. The Indian gods lived around Mount Meru. The Norse gods were in the realm of Asgard, reachable by crossing a rainbow. The Babylonian and Egyptian were in the –’
‘I get the picture. So, what? You’re going to fly to the Himalayas? Maybe even into space? Scale a rainbow?’
When he put it like that, it did sound pretty wild.
Plagg sighed. ‘Maybe before you go charging away on some Herculean quest for the gods, you should just get some fresh air. Clear your head.’
Adrien blinked at him. Fresh air. That did sound nice. ‘Good idea, Plagg. Have you had enough cheese?’
Plagg gave him a look that plainly sad, Is there ever ‘enough’ cheese?
Adrien grinned despite his grim mood and punched out his fist. ‘Plagg – claws out!’
Transformed, Cat bounded across his room, popped open the window, and leapt out.
As soon as he soaring through the sky, he felt a little better. It had been a long time since he’d last transformed. There was less need for superheroes now that the infamous Monarch had been defeated.
With the help of my father.
The thought still made his heart clench. Despite all the bad memories – despite every awful thing his father had done to him – in the end, he’d given his life to help Ladybug and save Paris. In his final moments, he’d chosen to do good.
But it didn’t cancel out all the bad he’d done.
Before Cat could stop it, his head filled with a montage of unhappy memories with his father, ranging from not being allowed to meet up with Marinette for ice cream all the way to being locked in that white room.
Rage burned his blood, even while his heart throbbed with grief, the conflicting emotions making him stumble on his next leap. He fought to keep his balance – when he caught sight of something that almost made him fall into a gap between buildings.
Ladybug.
Sitting at their spot.
What was she doing out, this evening? Did she go out all the time, and he just didn’t know because he’d stopped transforming? Or had they both got the idea to transform at the same time?
Or….
An idea shot through his head, cooling his blood down and making his stomach twist with nausea.
Had someone – some writer – made them both transform at the same time? Was any of this their choice? Or were they being forced together?
Trembling, he landed on their rooftop, forcing his legs to steady as he walked over to her. As he approached, she looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. ‘Cat. What are you doing out?’
‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’ He sat down beside her, letting his legs dangle over the side of the roof.
‘I just…I had a lot on my mind.’
‘…me too.’
She nodded and looked down at her hands.
He watched her, worry making him forget his own problems. Every time he saw her, she seemed more exhausted. Her shoulders slumped that much more, like the burdens she was carrying had grown heavier or more numerous. Not for the first time, he thanked his lucky stars that no one had made him the Guardian.
Maybe he should be thanking the writer.
He shifted a little, where he sat, taking care with his words. ‘Did you…want to talk about it?’
She kept her gaze down, staring at her lap like she was trying to work out how to answer that. ‘I’m not sure I should….’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s…it’s Guardian stuff.’
‘I figured. But M’lady…Monarch’s dead. Why can’t you share things with me now? I’m your partner…aren’t I?’
She went still…then gave a soft nod. ‘You…you are.’ Her voice was raspy with emotion, like she was holding back tears.
Oh, Ladybug. He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. ‘Hey, come on. You can talk to me. You know that, right?’
Again, she nodded, but she remained quiet, leaning against his shoulder and staring out at the sunset. Precedent said she wouldn’t speak. She wouldn’t share. She’d keep her secrets close, just like Marinette did.
Yet, she lifted her head a little and drew in a breath like she had something to say. ‘Okay, look. This isn’t easy to say, so I’m just going to say it.’
‘Okay….’
‘You know…you know how Gabriel Agreste helped me defeat Monarch?’
‘…yes?’
‘That…wasn’t exactly true….’
His arm tensed around her. ‘What…what do you mean?’
She didn’t reply, at first. The only sound that came out was a strangled noise as her shoulders shuddered, like she was struggling to contain her emotions. ‘I mean…Gabriel Agreste…was Monarch.’
Cat gasped so sharply that his body jolted, before he started quivering. Just like that, the whole building seemed to drop away from under him. ‘He…he….’
She gave a jerky nod. ‘I didn’t tell anyone out of respect for his son – Adrien Agreste. I didn’t…I didn’t want him to know just how awful his father really was.’
Cat’s grip on her tightened. The sky was spinning. Or maybe it was him.
My father. My father was…. He was….
‘I just – I don’t know what to do, Cat! At the risk of giving away my identity…sometimes, my path crosses with Adrien’s, and I – I don’t know how to look him in the eyes. I’m lying to him. I don’t want to, but I am, because…how can I tell him the truth? How can I tell him actually his dad was an international terrorist who used to control his mind and actions with a twist of his –’
Her eyes flew wide, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from saying more.
But she’d already said enough.
‘A twist of his what?’
‘…n-nothing. Forget I said anything.’
‘No, M’lady, a twist of what? His rings?’
She jumped, turning in his embrace and staring at him with large eyes. ‘How did you know?’
It was a question he couldn’t answer. It had just – it had just come to him, almost as if….
Someone put the idea in my head.
His tremble deepened until he was unable to hold it from her. Because there was only one explanation for how his father could control him with an object.
Her eyes scanned his, like she was trying to discern what he was thinking, what he was feeling. ‘You see why I kept it secret. I mean, how do you tell someone they…they….’
‘They’re not real.’
She blinked at him – then pulled away. ‘What?’
‘Adrien. If he’s a sentibeing…he’s not real.’
I was right.
Oh my god, I was right.
She wiped at her eyes, a fierce expression taking over her features. ‘No! That’s not true. Adrien is real. It doesn’t matter how he came into this world – he’s here now, and that’s – Cat? Cat, where are you going?’
He’d risen to his feet without noticing what he was doing. Now, he looked down at her, unable to maintain eye contact. Every inch of his skin itched like it was crawling with bugs. ‘I – I just remembered, there’s somewhere I need to be.’
‘…where?’
‘Just – just somewhere. I need to…. I need to go.’
Frowning, she got to her feet, reaching for him – but he backed away. If she touched him right now, he might scream. And then how did he explain it?
‘I’m sorry, M’lady, I – I really do need to be off. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s just….’ With no idea how to finish that sentence, he turned around.
‘Cat –’
Before she could finish, he’d extended his staff and launched off the roof, bounding back in the direction of his house.
But he didn’t make it, icy horror making his chest seize up and his heart pulse with panic. Not trusting his own body, he dropped onto a nearby rooftop just as the sobs broke out of his throat.
Ladybug’s admission whipped through his head, and he curled up on the concrete, hugging his knees to his chest.
Whatever she said….
I’m not real.
Someone…someone made me.
In fact…maybe someone had made someone make him. Maybe there really was some some sick, sadistic creator out there who’d thought him up, complete with a twisted storyline designed to torture him. Maybe they were out there right now, narrating everything he was thinking and feeling – just waiting to see how long he’d perform this dance of agony before his knees buckled and he fell for good.
How much of his life had been at the mercy of his invisible tormentors, maybe hiding behind laptop screens and office walls? How cosy were their lives while they casually decided to make him a sentibeing? Or to make his father his mortal enemy? Or lock him away in the white room? Or kill his mother? Or make Marinette and Ladybug keep secrets from him? Or….
Emotion poured out of him until he could no longer feel. When every part of him had gone numb, and his eyes could no longer produce tears, he stared out into the distance. The light had faded, and the moon had come up, a golden beacon of light in the darkness – and his conversation with Plagg flashed through his mind.
If there were a bunch of gods out there, placing bets or throwing dice or doing whatever it was they did to decide his fate…he was going to find them.
After all – he was a hero. And like the ancient heroes of mythology, he was going to track those gods down and have words with them.
Anger tightened his fists and he staggered onto his feet, turning his head one way, then the other. Mountains…mountains…. Instinct told him that was where he’d find the writers – or maybe that was knowledge granted by the writers themselves.
The only question was, which mountains?
Frowning, he closed his eyes, focusing on his breath and waiting until an answer came to him.
Olympus.
His eyes flew open again, and he gave a firm nod. Alright. Olympus it was.
Then he transformed into Astro Cat and started on his way.