Chapter Text
The best day of Adele’s life was the day her son Adrien was born. No other day even came close. Not the day she’d gotten her Miraculous, not the day she’d married Gabriel, nothing compared to looking into her son’s eyes for the first time, to holding him in her arms and knowing she'd do anything to protect him.
The worst day was about a year and a half later.
Adele had dropped Adrien off at daycare a few hours earlier, and was in the middle of a counseling appointment with an anxious teenage girl headed off to university in a few months.
“… and of course I know nobody my age really knows what they’re going to be doing for the rest of their lives, but it’s still hard not to feel… Mrs. Agreste? Mrs. Agreste, are you alright?” Adele had lurched forward in her seat suddenly, and grabbed the edge of her desk as though she might fall. She took a deep breath and sat up.
“I'm fine, sorry to startle you. Just… just a sudden headache.” She glanced at the clock on the wall; the appointment was only half over. “Nancy, do you mind if I reschedule? I hate to do that to you, but-”
“Oh, not at all Mrs. Agreste, that's totally fine. My mom gets migraines too, I know how it is.”
“Thank you, dear.” The student left, and Adele took another deep breath as Nooroo poked his head out of her purse. “What is that?” Adele asked him. She’d been struck, very abruptly, by a wave of panic and terror, and in the minute since she’d felt it, it had only grown.
“I don't know,” Nooroo replied, “but we need to find out as soon as possible.”
Adele grabbed her cell phone and texted her husband: mass panic somewhere in paris. investigating now. be ready. Then she left, making vague excuses to the school secretary on her way out.
Semi-retirement had been treating Paris’ superhero duo fairly well; there hadn't been any real catastrophes since Adrien’s birth, but they’d helped with a couple of incidents. Paris no longer expected or relied on them, but it still appreciated the occasional aid. Adele and Gabriel knew that their services would probably only really be needed once a year, maybe less. Still, they’d made sure that they could be on the job at the drop of a hat if necessary, and Adele had specifically chosen this school to work at in part because of the very private side alley nearby, where she could transform and get to the rooftops without any fear of discovery.
Once on the roof, the source of the panic was instantly clear. To the west, a giant purple vortex had engulfed an entire building; it was several stories high now, and slowly growing taller. Butterfly jumped from rooftop to rooftop towards it, trying to get a better look at what exactly it was. The vortex was sucking up trash and debris, and while Butterfly couldn't see the surrounding crowd, she could feel its fear. Everyone was keeping their distance, anxiously looking on from the next block over, at… at…
Butterfly froze, still a few blocks away, suddenly recognizing which building was at the center of the vortex. With a trembling hand, she raised her cane and pressed a button.
“Adele?” Her husband's voice came through clearly. “Did you figure out what-”
“It's Adrien. Get over here now.” Before she'd even finished the sentence, Paon was standing next to her, looking at the vortex in horror.
“Is that-”
“The daycare.”
Paon grabbed his wife, and an instant later they were on the roof directly across the street from the vortex. From this close, the roaring of the wind drowned out almost all other sounds, and it was difficult to stand.
“I can't feel him!” Butterfly shouted, barely audible. “I can't feel anyone inside! Oh God, Gabriel, what if-”
“Focus, Adele! There’s no point in assuming the worst before we know anything.” Paon looked toward the vortex. “I'm going in. If I'm not back in thirty seconds, send a Champion after me.” He focused his gaze, and a moment later he was-
-flying backwards. He landed halfway across the roof on his back with a loud thud.
“Gabriel!” Butterfly ran to his side.
“I'm fine,” he said as she reached him, and weakly tried to smile. “That's a good sign, if that thing is blocking my powers then it's probably blocking yours, too.”
Butterfly exhaled. “That's true.”
“Regardless,” Paon said, getting up and walking back to the edge of the roof, “we need a Champion. Now.” Butterfly nodded, closed her eyes, and concentrated. It took longer than usual for a butterfly to reach her due to the wind, but soon one was cupped in her hands. Pouring every ounce of power she had into it, she released a moment later.
A few stories below, a large crowd had formed. Near the front was a young teacher’s aide named Renee. Renee worked in the afternoons, and she’d been running late today, so she was the only employee who hadn't been trapped inside when the vortex struck. There was some guilt, and a healthy amount of fear and dread, but the emotion at the front of her mind was a desperation to help.
“Renee.”
The voice sounded so different in her head than it did on TV but, like any Parisian, Renee would have known it anywhere.
“Renee, I am-”
“Yes,” Renee interrupted. “Yes, yes, I accept, give me whatever power you can and I'll save them, I'll save everyone.”
Butterfly glanced over at Paon. “Follow her.” Paon nodded and disappeared.
Far below her, Renee began to move through the crowd towards the vortex. At first, nobody paid any attention to her. Then she reached the front of the crowd and started to push past it, walking into the more violent winds. A few people tried to stop her, until they noticed her eyes, glowing yellow with power. As she got closer and closer to the vortex itself, it became obvious that the flying debris was somehow giving her a wide berth, and the raging winds did not hinder her progress. In fact, they didn’t even blow a single one of her hairs out of place. She was somehow completely immune to all its effects.
When Renee reached the edge of the swirling purple twister, she held up her right hand, palm out. A bolt of energy shot from it, blasting a hole in the vortex and revealing the school’s front door. Without hesitating, Renee walked through it.
Butterfly could see everything Renee could see and feel everything Renee could feel. As Renee entered the hallways of the daycare, both women shivered. The interior of building was eerily quiet despite the twister that surrounded it, and there was a strange purple smoke that completely covered the floor. Renee seemed to be immune to it, thanks to Butterfly, but it had knocked out everyone inside.
Through Renee, Butterfly could now feel the presence of everyone inside. As far as Butterfly could tell nobody was dead yet, but almost every signature was frighteningly weak, even for people who were unconscious. There was one exception-a strong presence, immensely satisfied and hopeful and delighting in the surrounding horrors. The emotional signature was coming from the other side of the building, from-where else?-Adrien’s classroom. Renee sprinted down the hallways, and burst into the room.
Standing in the center of the room was a man, middle-aged and perfectly average-looking except for his eyes, which were jet-black. He grinned as Renee entered.
“You’re earlier than I expected,” he said, “considering that you’re retired.”
Renee stopped in her tracks, confused. “I’m not-”
“I’m not talking to you,” the man said, annoyed. He pointed to Renee’s forehead. “I’m talking to the superhero sitting inside your mind.”
“Don’t let him distract you,” Butterfly said to Renee. “We need to figure out how to stop whatever he’s doing.”
“Right.” Renee widened her stance and held her palms up, ready to blast the man in front of her. “I don’t know what you want, but if you don’t stop this attack-”
“You don’t know what I want? I want power, obviously. The kind that only Butterfly can bestow.”
Renee scoffed. “Villains have tried that before, and she’s never given in.”
“True,” the man admitted, “But before today, nobody’s ever tried threatening her son.” He glanced to his left, towards where Adrien was lying on the floor, unconscious. Renee followed his gaze.
“But… but that’s…”
“He will die, along with everyone else in this building, and soon. Unless, of course, I get what I want.”
Renee was still staring at Adrien, putting the pieces together. “...Mrs. Agreste?” she whispered, confused.
Butterfly sighed. “Yes,” she said to Renee. Then she did something she almost never did-she directly manipulated the emotions of her Champion. She removed Renee’s confusion, her curiosity, and ramped up her focus on the task at hand. There simply wasn’t time to deal with an identity reveal. Now, in this state, Renee wouldn’t have cared if she found out Butterfly was her own mother.
Renee blinked a few times, and her expression cleared. Wordlessly, she looked back at the sorcerer and fired a white-hot blast of energy at him. He dodged it easily, and the blast shot through the room’s window, shattering it. He laughed, and waved his hand towards Renee, knocking her back. She crumpled to the floor. “Do you really want to waste the last few minutes of your son’s life fruitlessly trying to kill me?” he asked Butterfly. “Just do what I-”
Some invisible force slammed into him, knocking him clear across the room and into the wall. “Paon!” he said, almost laughing. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.” He whispered something in a language Butterfly didn’t recognize, and suddenly Paon was visible. The sorcerer shot a bolt of lightning at Paon, but he teleported before it reached him. In the next instant, Paon was behind the sorcerer, his hand wrapped around the man’s throat.
“You have five seconds to undo everything you’ve done,” Paon said, his voice low and furious. “If you don’t, I’ll-” A burst of energy knocked Paon back, and the sorcerer whirled around, both hands up. Paon was frozen in place, unable to speak or teleport to safety. The sorcerer grinned again.
“You are no match for me,” he told Paon. From the other side of the room, through a still-fallen Renee, Butterfly could sense that his attention was completely occupied by Paon. “Now,” she told Renee, pouring as much power as she could into the young woman. Without getting up, Renee fired another bolt of energy at the sorcerer, this time hitting him dead-on. He looked over at Renee, shocked, before the energy consumed him completely and he was gone.
Outside, the winds were quickly dying down. The vortex was gone. Inside, the smoke disappeared, and the children and teachers started coughing as they breathed in fresh air.
The last circle on Paon’s miraculous was blinking frantically; Paon shot one desperate look towards his son, making sure the boy was breathing, then sighed and teleported away. Butterfly’s powers were also about to leave her, now that her Champion had accomplished her goal of saving everyone. Right before losing her connection to Renee, Butterfly did something else she rarely did-she wiped Renee’s memory of being a Champion, and with it her knowledge of Butterfly’s true identity.
By the time Adele and Gabriel reached the daycare as civilians, ambulances had already taken most of the children, including Adrien, away. They drove to the hospital as quickly as they were able, but it was hours before the Agrestes could see their son, hours before he was officially out of the woods. Now they were in his hospital room, waiting for him to wake up. The doctor had told them Adrien would be fine at least five times now, but Adele still didn't believe it. Her baby was still unconscious and hooked up to various monitors. She’d been staring at him like that for so long now that the image was burned into her retinas, and she almost couldn't tell when her eyes were closed.
“You should try and get some sleep,” Gabriel said softly, around midnight. Adele didn't look up.
“Why me? You must be more tired than I am, you actually fought.”
“Well. We can take turns.”
“You first.”
Gabriel sighed. “Never mind.” He crossed to the other side of the room and sat next to his wife, taking her hand in his own.
“He knew,” Adele said softly. “He knew who we were. We weren't careful enough, somehow.”
“I know.”
“If one of those kids dies, it's on us.”
Gabriel sighed again. “I know.”
“And we don't know how he found out, or if he told anybody else. This could all happen again at any time, for all we know.”
“This won't happen again,” Gabriel said, squeezing his wife’s hand forcefully. “Whatever it takes, whatever we have to do, this won't happen again.” Adele leaned against him and fell silent.
About an hour of their vigil had passed when one of the other mothers poked her head into the room.
“Adele? Gabriel? How is Adrien?”
“He's going to be fine,” Adele said. “Katie?”
“Doing well. All the other kids are, too. Everyone made it.”
Adele and Gabriel both exhaled as some of the guilt that they’d been feeling finally eased, just a little. “Thank you for telling us, Therese,” Adele said.
“Some of the other parents and I, we’ve been talking about doing something in honor of Butterfly and Paon. I thought you might like to-”
“What?” Adele could barely think straight at this point, and the thought of being honored by the parents of all the children she’d put in mortal danger was too much. “Why?”
Katie’s mother looked like Adele had slapped her. “Because they saved Katie’s life, Adele. And Adrien’s, too. That must mean something to you.”
Adele snapped. “Did you ever think that maybe-”
“Adele,” Gabriel interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder and stopping her from saying anything she shouldn't. He turned to Therese. “Of course, we’ll be happy to contribute in any way we can. It's just… it’s been a long day. Would you mind contacting us later?”
Therese’s face softened. “Of course,” she said, leaving the room. Adele looked at her husband.
“If we have to finance our own goddamn statue commemorating this nightmare I am going to break something,” she said flatly.
“Break whatever you want at home,” Gabriel replied, putting an arm around her. “Here, we are exactly like every other worried parent. Every other worried parent is very, very grateful to the anonymous superheroes who saved their children, and that's it.”
Adele let out a frustrated groan. “I know. I'm sorry.” Gabriel kissed the top of her head, and they went back to waiting in silence.
Chief Renault was working late about a week later when Butterfly entered her office, without warning, through the open window.
“I'm sorry,” Butterfly began, “I should have called first. I'll be brief.”
“Butterfly! What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, nothing, I just,” Butterfly was avoiding eye contact for some reason, and fiddling nervously with her cane, “just came to tell you that we, Paon and I, that is, we won't be able to attend any functions in our honor.”
“Oh. Is it a scheduling thing? Because if you just name the time-”
“No,” Butterfly interrupted. “We won't be making any more public appearances. And...and honestly, we’d prefer it if you skipped the plaque, too. Just give the money to the children’s hospital. You can still use our names for the event, but…” She trailed off. “Anyway, that was it.” She turned back towards the window.
“Wait!” the chief cried out, more urgently than she'd intended. Butterfly looked back at her. “I…” The chief had a suspicion, one she hadn't been planning on ever voicing, but some maternal impulse drove her now. “I remember. Why you two retired, that is. And I would never ever tell anyone,” she continued in a rush, noting Butterfly’s now worried expression. “No one else knows, I promise. But I remember. Was it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy,” Butterfly said softly. The chief nodded.
“I did the math, you see. Your son...he'd be about the same age as the kids in the classroom at the center of the attack, wouldn't he?”
Chief Renault didn't know what, exactly, she'd been expecting in response, but it certainly wasn't for Paris’ senior resident superhero to immediately burst into tears in the middle of her office. She stood up and rushed to the hero’s side, grabbing a box of tissues from her shelf on the way. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have-”
“No, no,” Butterfly said, grabbing a tissue and blowing her nose. “I should have known I wouldn't get through this. I should have sent Paon, but he was even more anxious than I was about leaving-” she broke into tears again, and the chief led her to a small couch in the corner of the office. They sat there together for a few minutes, Butterfly trying to compose herself while the chief waited patiently.
“I would never send an officer to handle a case that involved their own child,” the chief finally said, after Butterfly had calmed down somewhat. “It's too much. If one of mine were in danger, I'd recuse myself immediately. But I suppose superheroes don't have that luxury.”
Butterfly laughed humorlessly. “No,” she agreed. “We don't.” She took a deep breath. “I can't handle an event. I don't think I could handle a five minute appearance. Every time someone sings our praises over this, I feel sick. Those children never would have been hospitalized, never been in any danger at all, if they hadn't been in the same school as our son.”
Impulsively, the chief pulled Butterfly into a tight hug. She’d been in awe of the hero for over seven years now, but right now she wasn't a police officer in the shadow of a superhero. She was just one mother comforting another.
“You can't blame yourself,” the chief said. It was cliche, but that didn't make it less true. “And don't feel guilty for taking care of yourself and your family right now, either. I can handle the public for you. And if there’s anything else I can do…”
“That’s more than enough,” Butterfly said gratefully. She grabbed another tissue. “Although… we know almost nothing about the attacker, or how he discovered our identities. If you find out anything, no matter how seemingly insignificant-”
“I'll contact you immediately,” the chief promised.
“Thank you.”
Gabriel looked up as his wife entered the nursery. Her eyes were red, but he didn't comment on it. “How did it go?” he asked.
“Fine. We don't need to worry about any more invitations to things, or interviews or anything. We’re out.”
“Thank God.”
Adele considered telling her husband that the chief had figured out part of their secret, but decided against it for now. It would only worry him, and he couldn't know what Adele knew for certain, that the chief would only protect them more fiercely as a result. She walked over to Adrien’s crib and looked down at her son. He had completely recovered, and was sleeping peacefully. In all likelihood, he wouldn’t remember the ordeal at all. There would be no permanent damage, either physically or emotionally.
His parents, of course, were a different story.