Chapter Text
I open my eyes, and those cold eyes stare back at me from above. “Go back to your room, Adrien.”
“No.” The word leaves my lips before I even think. “Father, everybody is attending the ball—they couldn’t—”
“Adrien. I am your father, and I am asking you to go up to your room and stay there this evening.”
For a moment, it feels like my head clears from all the clouds and emotions. This all makes sense. My body turns around, and my feet carry me where I supposedly have business to do, to my bedroom.
My mind feels empty. Only when I close the door behind me and keep my hand on the handle I realize that… I have nothing to do here.
For a second, I wonder how I even decided to come up here, but then I hush the thought away. I have business to do which is not in my room.
When I decide to push down the handle, to go downstairs and tell my father — no, state to my father — that I’m going to the ball and the only thing he can decide is whether I go on my feet or in our car, my mind goes blank again. After a second, thoughts are coming back in a highly limited numbers and forms.
I’m not even sure if I want to open the door in front of me. The thought of walking down the stairs feels foreign, wrong—something not allowed. No, that’s not the right way to put it. It’s not about being forbidden. it’s just… unreasonable.
I start questioning myself again why I shouldn’t simply do what I was told?
Oh, wait. Right.
I wanted to go to the ball. But whenever I try to leave this place that feels like a prison, my brain freezes, and the same cycle repeats. Mind empty, limited thoughts, decides to stay, realization, decides to go to the ball repeat.
Only when I let go of the handle and give up the idea of leaving do I feel capable of thinking straight again.
I have never understood why I can’t say no to my father.
Something moves against my ribs, then slips out and hovers beside me.
“I thought you wanted to go, Adrien, to the ball.”
“I truly do.”
“Then what’s the problem? Go tell your father you—”
“I can’t.” I turn away, frustrated, from the entrance of the room where I’ll most likely spend the evening. “I can’t say no. I can’t go down there and tell him I will go, even though I want to.”
Like a reflex, my body drops onto the couch just like all the time I am at a loss. I sink deep into it, staring past the TV and out the window. The sun is going down, the sky dances in pink and purple hues. How I wish I could enjoy it outside.
“Guess we’re staying in,” Plagg remarks.
“I guess,” I reply flatly.
My left hand reaches for the PlayStation controller beside me, but just as my fingertips touch it, the colors outside turn dark and stormy. My eyes snap to the window. Before I can speak, my teammates are running across the roof, chasing a figure with the exact build of my… father? Nightormentor.
Almost subconsciously, my whole body reacts. “Plagg, claws out!”
Adrenaline surges through me. My claws scratch the window frame as I throw it open. I crouch on the sill, scanning where they have headed. I prepare to jump, but my legs don’t move. Not even a flex.
A surprised sound escapes my throat. I look down at my feet, my shoes, the outline of the window, nothing seems wrong.
“What the—?”
I try again.
Nothing. I exhale sharply and push with all my strength, but my legs refuse to obey. My heartbeat roars in my ears. Frustration burns through me.
I try again and again, even using my hands to push off the frame, but I stay frozen in the same position.
“What’s going on?” I shout.
Desperate, I shove backward instead and to my surprise, I’m not glued to the window. I stumble, knocking over my television and barely catching it before it hits the floor.
I couldn’t care less if it broke.
I rush back to the window. Before my mind can form a theory about why I am unable to go after the others, I watch the scene unfold before my eyes.
Ladybug de-evilizes my father.
They stand on the rooftop where they were moments ago. The sky clears, glowing again in its earlier beauty.
Good. I guess. Good.
My lady smiles, wider than the man could ever deserve, as she asks after his wellbeing. At least, I assume that’s what she says. I know her too well. She’s the best woman I know.
After my Marinette, of course. Nobody beats my Marinette at being the best.
Just as Ladybug turns to leave, I glance sideways and my whole body freezes.
“Ladybug! On your left!” I shout, gripping the window frame.
I still can’t jump.
She hears me.
Good.
Monarch lunges, but she dodges just in time. Within seconds it’s clear she’s being overpowered, dodging every blow but unable to strike back.
Blood pounds in my veins, making my head spin, but I can’t force myself to move.
“What’s wrong with me?” My breathing grows harsh.
I spend all my energy trying to escape this room, but it’s useless. My body collapses under its own exhaustion even all of it is being spent on actual nothing.
Ladybug is pinned to the ground. Her head turns from side to side as her hands struggle uselessly.
I force myself to move one last time.
Nothing changes. From the outside, I must look indifferent, watching her lose while doing nothing. But inside, I’m screaming helplessly.
Just as Monarch reaches for her earrings, my father leaps on him.
With a single motion, one that takes almost no effort, Monarch flings him off. My father’s body flies off the roof and down toward the street. Right in front of me.
Instinctively, I try to jump to catch him, and this time my body does react, but not how I intend. I slam into the closed window next to the open one.
We hit the ground at the same time.
The sight below is unrecognizable.
He is unrecognizable.
My fingertips press against the glass. My heavy breathing fogs it.
Everything slows. I can only hear my heartbeat, loud, deafening. I can’t process anything except that and my father’s… whatever that is. Not a body. Definitely not a body anymore.
From up here, it’s just a red smear with shapes that shouldn’t exist.
I can’t move.
My head pounds. It hurts… very much. Tears slide down my cheeks.
I can't think.
I can't think-
The sight is unbearable.
I…
I…
open my eyes to darkness.
I sit up immediately. The bedsheet feels warm and soft under my fingertips.