Chapter Text
Luka smiles as Juleka leans in to hang up the call. Her dark hair falls in front of her face, blocking his view.
“Love you,” he starts, but then a bleep sounds and then screen turns black. “Sis,” he finishes.
His smile drops, and sighing, he puts the phone face-down on the bed. Loneliness washes over him, just as it’s done every night since he got first here. The waves crashing in the distance serves as a constant reminder of just how far away he is from home.
He hears Jagged – still not used to calling him ‘dad’ – and Penny talking in the next room. He sighs again and rolls over to face the wall. A crack runs diagonally across the beige surface, and he traces it with his eyes.
Suddenly, his phone begins to ring – or rather, hum – as Pachelbel’s Canon begins to play. He bangs his head on the bedstead in his haste to sit up, and reaches his phone just as the First Violin joins in. He grins. It’s Juleka! She’s called him back! Then his eyes land on the phone screen and his smile slips.
Alya Césaire’s smirking picture greets him from the centre of the phone, her fingers raised in a peace sign. He hesitates, mind blank as he desperately tries to recall whether the two of them have actually had a conversation before. Then he bites the bullet and swipes to accept.
Alya’s face fills the screen. She’s frowning, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Blurred behind her is a Tardis. Luka’s seen enough of her Ladyblogs to know it’s her bedroom door. He pictures her sitting slumped against it.
“I’m sorry,” she says. The feed is crackly. It has been every time the others have tried to phone him in Brazil. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“That’s okay,” Luka says, settling down so that he’s crossed-legged on the bed. So, she wants to vent her worries. This, at least, is familiar territory. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Alya looks into the lens, and Luka’s shocked to see that there’s not sadness in her eyes, but anger. “You know Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities.”
And just like that any sense of calm that Luka was feeling vanishes.
“One sec,” he mutters. He throws himself off the bed, making sure the door is firmly closed, and then grabs his earphones from where they lie dangled on the bottom corner of his bed. He jams the wire into the phone as he returns to the bed and forces himself to sit cross-legged again as he puts the buds into his ears. Really, he wants to sit hunched but that won’t help him stay calm.
“Has something happened to Ladybug and Chat Noir?” He asks quietly. Surely one of them would have got in contact with him if there had? You’re in Brazil; they might have forgotten you, a traitorous part of his brain reminds him, but he quickly squashes the thought.
“To Ladybug,” Alya frowns, chewing her bottom lip. “That is-” she sighs, “I know who she is. I’ve known for a while now.”
Of course, she has. With Marinette spiralling after Monarch got hold of the Miraculous and Alya’s journalistic curiosity, Luka wonders just how long she managed to keep it a secret. But, still, best be certain…
“Say it.” He says softly. “Say her name.”
Alya’s eyes narrow. “You first.”
“Together then?”
She nods, “On three.” She counts down, and then at the same time:
“Marinette.”
And Luka can’t help but smile because, despite his efforts, it has been so isolating knowing both with no one to share that burden with, and he’s so happy that there’s someone else who knows that he almost forgets why Alya called in the first place.
Almost.
“So, what happened?” he asks, trying to keep his voice level.
“She’s messed up,” Alya sighs, anger returning to her voice now, “to the point which I don’t know what to do. Someone needs to help her, but it can’t be me because I just feel so betrayed and I’ll do something we’ll both regret.”
“Just start from the beginning,” he says.
“I shouldn’t even be telling you.”
“It’s okay.” He says soothingly, “I can keep a secret.”
There’s a long pause on the other end and for a moment Luka’s worried that Alya has changed her mind. Then she exhales sharply, and dropping her voice, mutters, “So you know Ladybug told the whole world that Gabriel Agreste was a hero?”
A ringing starts in his ears. A ringing that does not stop, even when Alya finishes, and she’s told him the whole sordid truth. His breath quickens, his head feels dizzy.
“Luka,” Alya asks concerned, “are you okay?”
His vision is blurry. He can barely see her.
“I’ll call you back,” he gasps. Blearily, he presses down to hang up and thrusts his phone onto the bed, as he holds onto himself.
Adrien. That’s his first coherent thought. Adrien.
Adrien, who is Chat Noir, who loves Marinette, who trusts Ladybug, whose father was Gabriel Agreste, who was Hawkmoth, Shadowmoth, Monarch, who, who, who…
Adrien in pain. Chat Noir akumatised. Ladybug frozen in horror as all of Paris is destroyed. Because she doesn’t know…how could she know…that Gabriel Agreste is Chat Noir’s father?
Alya has given her an ultimatum: to tell Adrien the truth or lose her friendship. But she doesn’t see- because she doesn’t know – that an akumatised Adrien Agreste is the worst possible scenario.
Poor Adrien, he thinks. And then: poor Marinette.
And then Luka knows what he must do. He reaches for his phone, dries his eyes, smooths his hair, and calls Alya.
She picks up on the first thing, “Luka, you-”
“I’m on my way back to Paris,” Luka tells her. Unbelievably, his voice sounds calm, confident, “I’ll go straight to Marinette’s once I get there.”
As plans go, it’s terrible and incredibly risky. But he can’t think of anything else to do.
Hang on Marinette. Hang on Adrien, he thinks, as his fingers fly across his phone screen, booking the first flight to Paris.
I’m on my way.