Chapter Text
Cover by Rakunaito
Ladybug burst into a laugh— or would’ve, if Chat Noir hadn’t waited until roughly two seconds after she had begun sipping her Orangina to deliver his joke. As it was, it was the beverage that burst, out of her nose. She swore at the burn of carbonation in her nostrils and scooped a handful of napkins from their snack up to blot at the light orange liquid dribbling down to her chin.
Chat, now, was the one laughing.
They had been sitting close enough that she was able to twist sideways and plant the soles of both of her boots on his side, ejecting him from the roof in retribution. But he had been expecting as much, and didn’t fall more than a few meters before his staff anchored on the ground and he was raised back up to her side.
“I hate you.”
What she actually hated, though, was the way those little fangs were displayed by his grin, and how frustratingly cute she realized she found it. She had just begun to draw a breath to elaborate on her intense disdain for him, when the yo-yo on her hip chirped. Each looked down, surprised and a bit confused. It was a chirp they each recognized, one that could only come via another Kwami. Ladybug opened the device as she lifted it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Ladybug, help me!”
She frowned, forehead creasing. She knew the voices of all of her Holders, and this woman was not one of them. It was somehow familiar, but no matter how her mind raced she couldn’t place it. What she did recognize was the terror there. Her heart began to pound, her senses seemed to prickle. Adrenaline was working its way through her body, playing catch up to a threat she didn’t understand.
“What’s happening? Who is this?”
“Help me!” It was screamed, that time, in the tone of the truly desperate. “Please, help!”
Her eyes rose to Chat Noir and her confusion compounded: she’d never seen him wearing the expression he then wore. He looked like a child, utterly stripped of all ego and identity. He was pale, his feline eyes shimmering. Somehow, that impacted her more than the strange call.
“Chat?”
“That’s… that’s….” His lip was quivering. All of him was quivering, she realized. Her concern swung, her hand grasping his shoulder. “It’s….”
A shriek cut between them. “Help!”
Focus, she had to focus. It seemed to have been years since she felt truly frazzled, Ladybug always had some handhold in the storm of her life. But not now. This was too strange, in too many ways. “Stay calm, madame. Tell me where you are, who is hurting you?”
“Hawkmoth!” Her breaths were coming more rapidly, more ragged.
Chat’s tan skin went unnaturally white.
“Who are you? Where are you? Tell me so we can help you!”
“Emilie, my name is Emilie Agreste. Please, please, he’s trapped me and I’m hurt and—“
The communicator was snatched from her hand by Chat Noir’s, which held it like a lifeline. “We’ll come to you, we’ll be right there. Where are you? Do you know?”
“I… I don’t know, it’s dark, it’s cold. Underground, I think? Please, please, Chat Noir, please help me! I’m so scared!”
He was on his feet, pacing. Ladybug could seem to do nothing but watch, competing mysteries occupying all corners of her brain. None of this made sense. Emilie Agreste had died thirteen years before, she knew that fact well— it was less than a year later that her civilian side had met and fallen in love with her son.
“Hold on, just hold on. I won’t let him hurt you any more. You need to help us find you. Where were you, before? Where have you been? How did you get there?”
“I don’t know!” Her voice was becoming increasingly panicked.
That voice… it did sound like Emilie Agreste, or what she knew of her voice from the films the actress had done. But none of them had been horrors, and a scream queen she was not.
Chat Noir’s pacing intensified, his tail whirling around behind him each time he changed direction, and Ladybug listened to their exchange while she sifted through her own thoughts, attempting to find some organization there.
Emilie Agreste is dead. Adrien and his father had never stopped mourning her. There was a statue of her in the garden of the Agreste Manor, carved with dates and a favorite bit of poetry. There were still occasional retrospectives on her life, a light and career cut tragically short.
So it can’t be Emilie Agreste.
Emilie had a twin sister. Amelie, mother to Adrien’s cousin, Felix. The two young men were very nearly twins, themselves. Physically, anyway. So, it could be Emilie’s voice, coming from her sister. But her sister lived in London, and, as far as Ladybug knew, had only ever visited Paris to bring her son to visit Adrien or to memorialize her sister, but it wasn’t anywhere near her birthday or death date. And, even if she were there, why would Amelie pretend to be Emilie?
It’s a trap.
“There’s… there’s a bicycle? It’s attached to something, though… I don’t… I don’t understand. Wait! A little light… I see a sign… Notausgang?”
“The bunker under Gare de l’Est!” Chat spun to Ladybug, fixing her with his triumphant gaze. A memory sparked: Adrien looking up at the sign as she looked at him, while the man guiding the field trip explained that the Germans had added their own touches to the space when they invaded during World War II, including that emergency exit sign. Kim had seen how quickly he could pedal on a bicycle that drove a backup ventilation system, blowing Chloe's hair out of place and very nearly starting a whole new war.
Chat Noir dashed towards the north end of the roof, apparently forgetting that Ladybug required the yo-yo being used as a communicator to be able to follow. “We’re on our way. Keep calm, madame, I swear I’ll save you!”
“Kitty, stop! I have to come with you!”
But he either didn’t hear, or didn’t care. Her partner leapt from the roof, and was gone.
Panic was quickly building, an almost foreign feeling. Chat Noir was racing into what could only possibly be a trap, with her only method of transport, communication, and weapon.
Ladybug spun around, searching the city for some sort of option, and grasped onto the best she could find.
As Guardian, she didn’t quite have a psychic link with her Kwamis, but they were extra-attuned to her. And one of them lived not all that far away. She cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled the name as loudly as she could, and then paced as she waited. Hoping.
That call could’ve only come through a Kwami, and even if it were somehow Emilie Agreste begging for help from the torments of Hawkmoth, how could she have access to one, unless the message was through the villain himself?
It was a trap in a trap in a bunker hundreds of meters below ground.
What was Chat Noir doing? He seemed to have become possessed. Was there some sort of entrancing effect through the call that she had somehow avoided? He didn’t even feel like her chaton, after those first few seconds.
“Ladybug,” breathed a smooth voice from behind her, “what’s going on?”
She turned to run towards Viperion. His face was flushed, his chest heaving— Sass had heard her cry and his Holder had raced to her. “We need to call Pegasus here, right now.”
His brows raised, but he nodded and did as she asked without question. She could feel the aqua-blue eyes on her as he called and she paced, chewing on her nails in a habit she had overcome when she was six.
There was only a brief delay between Viperion ending the call and the Voyage sparking open beside them on the roof. Still, he didn’t ask, he only spoke: “whatever it is, I’m coming with you.”
Ladybug bit her lip. “Do you know who Pegasus is?”
He nodded, and her own head echoed the motion. The two of them stepped through the Voyage before Pegasus could step out, and were in the small studio apartment that Max Kanté slept in when not in one lab or another. He looked as confused as she felt.
“Thank you, Pegasus. I’m sorry, I don’t have my yo-yo right now, and I need to be able to move quickly. Please, I have to borrow Kaalki for a brief time.”
The hesitation was barely noticeable— Max’s brain likely worked light years more quickly than anyone else’s. He trusted her, and trusted Viperion, and he detransformed and handed over his Miraculous in seconds.
“I’ll bring her back as soon as I can,” she stated, slipping on the glasses to merge his Kwami with her own.
“Be careful, all.”
Pegabug gave a curt nod and spun up a Voyage leading to the back of Gare de l’Est. As they stepped through and into the gravel space between the many tracks of Paris’ oldest railway station, Viperion activated the Second Chance and Pegabug began to scan the area. She could have taken them directly into the bunker, but was hoping she could intercept Chat Noir, get her yo-yo back, and break him out of the strange spell he seemed to have been captured by.
“What are we facing?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. She began to walk, with he following, towards the trap door beside the rails that served as the only entry to the bunker. “Chat was with me when I received a call, a woman who claims to be Emilie Agreste screaming for help.”
Out of her field of view for the moment, Pegabug was unable to see the comprehension that struck Viperion’s face.
“She said she’s been trapped and hurt by Hawkmoth. Chat Noir took my yo-yo to speak with her directly, it was almost as if he became possessed. She gave enough info that it appears she’s being held in the bunker below here, and he took off to help and took my yo-yo with him.”
“Do you think he meant to strand you?”
She sighed and shook her head as an arriving train glided just centimeters to their right, its passengers pointing and waving excitedly through the windows. “He just seemed… focused.”
They reached the trap door, the only way in or out, and found the lock had been Cataclysmed away. Chat Noir was already inside. Just as she began to kneel to open it, Viperion’s hand closed around her arm.
“I think I should tell you, so that you’re prepared… it’s no wonky effect of whatever we’ll be facing, Chat Noir is going to be completely invested in the idea that she is still alive. We know it can’t be possible, but he will want to believe it. Need to believe it. You won’t be able to expect him to act the way he usually does, and you might not be able to fully trust him.”
She frowned, brows furrowed. Viperion’s expression was as serious as ever in battle, and she had full faith in him; she just didn’t like what he had to say.
Not that she hadn’t already seen it.
“Are you ready?”
He nodded.
Pegabug opened the hatch, and one by one they descended a steep set of stairs that lead deep below tracks 2 and 3. The power, thankfully, was on, and the bunker was lit by dim, 1930s lights on the ceiling. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but with every step she became more and more aware of the distance underground, the surroundings of concrete. Built to withstand an air raid, with only one exit.
And their Cataclysm couldn’t be counted on.
She stopped abruptly, as the next level finally came into view with a thick, airtight door ahead. The bunker was moderately sized, and broken up into little, concrete rooms. It would be difficult to bring many more of the team with them. “Are we strong enough? Just you and me? Should we get more of the Kwamis, first?”
“I can Second Chance and you can Voyage.”
“I don’t have my yo-yo and you have a lyre.”
Viperion chuckled. “Let’s see what we can do, and retreat if we need to. If we come in with a lot of firepower Chat might take it the wrong way.”
Pegabug looked up to him, even taller than usual on a step above. “Can you tell me anything more?”
He turned serious, sad. “No.”
“Okay.”
She had absolute confidence in him; as both Viperion and as Luka, she knew no one more trustworthy. He was the keeper of a million secrets and vision far beyond his years. Even if she was scared and felt more unprepared the closer they got, she would listen to him.
But her brief hesitation was enough for Viperion. “Let’s switch places.”
Pegabug scowled.
“You don’t have you yo-yo and I have a lyre,” he echoed with a cheeky grin that reminded her of Chat Noir, fangs and all.
“I’m scared,” she abruptly admitted, and Viperion softened.
“I know.” His voice was soothing, as was a hand on her arm.
“For Chat. Whatever’s going on with him, in this. I’m scared that Hawkmoth is behind there and he has him and my yo-yo as well.”
“I know. We’ll get it and we’ll get him. We will, Ladybug.”
She nodded. The longer they waited, the more trouble he could be in. Viperion had to hurry to keep up with her, as she started down again. Even with much shorter legs, she was moving too quickly for he to take the lead.
“I should’ve brought a cricket bat or something,” she muttered, to a soft laugh.
“You don’t play cricket.”
She glanced over, her suspicions verified: Luka knew her identity. And, it seemed, Chat Noir’s as well. At some point, he had finally discovered the secret that he had been so distraught over, as her first boyfriend, that he had been Akumatized.
But they didn’t have time to have that conversation, right now.
The door stood just in front of them. Heavy, reinforced steel, with a wheel that would need to be turned to open. Hopefully, it wasn’t locked.
She didn’t like that it was closed. Chat Noir would’ve had to pass through here, and if they were wrong and he hadn’t come before them, they should’ve heard him behind by then. Why wouldn’t he have left it open?
Viperion reset the Second Chance, extending its reach. He, as all, had become stronger over the years, and each notch on the Snake now represented five minutes, instead of one. He could skip back to when he chose as well, instead of having to return to the original point. She was glad, for many reasons, that he was with her.
Then, as he reached out to the wheel, his hand was suddenly drawn back. “You open it,” he said, his tone different than before. “I’m going first.”
He had already used the Second Chance, she realized. Something had happened, bad enough for him to pull her back out and pull her back, as well. She could feel the way her pulse was bounding even in her hands, as she wrapped her fingers around the wheel and cranked it open.
Viperion moved in, lyre at the ready, but stopped abruptly. In silence, he motioned downwards and then carefully stepped over a trip wire she couldn’t even see. Kneeing down, he pointed out the slimmest, translucent line, then rose and offered his hand to steady her as she gingerly stepped over.
He knew where to go, choosing their path without hesitation. The rooms were as she remembered them from that distant field trip, frozen in time from the Second World War. Desks and chairs, papers and supplies that looked brand new in drab surplus colors. The smell was of metal and stale air. The doors were all as thick as her head, and Pegabug felt more and more uneasy with every one that increased between they and the surface. And she wondered how many times they had done this as Viperion paused, reaching down to pick up a pencil that would’ve been easy to roll a foot over. He started forward, and then paused again. He stiffened, and his expression, as he looked at her, said everything. Her heart went cold.
Hawkmoth is here.
“Can we do this?” she whispered, the words barely passing her lips. He reached over to squeeze her hand.
“We will do this. But…” he frowned. “You need to not get caught up in his emotion.”
Her brows knitted, but Viperion had turned to move on. They slipped through one door that was only cracked open, and were met with something she was’t expecting: the sound of sobbing. Not that of a woman, but of her partner.
Viperion’s warning made sense, now.
Still, she began to rush towards the door it seemed to be coming from behind, only for his arm to shoot out to keep her behind him. “Don’t get caught up,” he murmured, and she got it.
Hawkmoth is here. I can’t afford to be emotional.
Does that mean Chat Noir could be…?
“Call to him,” he said gently. “Let him know you’re here. We don’t want to startle them.”
Them.
“Chat?” she uttered. Too quiet, too scared. “Chat Noir? I’m here.”
“Ladybug? Ladybug! It’s her, it’s really her!”
Viperion gave her a solemn shake of his head. “Tread carefully,” he whispered, before starting forwards. “Hey, Chat?”
“Viperion?”
“Hey man, you left her without her yo-yo, I had to help out.”
Chat laughed and the door pushed open from the inside. His eyes were filled with tears, but not sad. It didn’t make any sense, he didn’t get so easily emotional. Seeing him that way, it—
Don’t get caught up.
“It’s really her,” he said again, grabbing her arms. Pegabug forced herself to smile, but was only feeling distressed.
“Then we should get her out of her, carefully,” she said quietly. “Hawkmoth has to be nearby.”
He quickly sobered, and nodded. “You’re right. Here, I’m sorry I took off.”
She smiled again, thankful to have the yo-yo back in her hand. “It’s okay. Let’s go.”
Chat beamed, patted Viperion on the shoulder by way of greeting, and turned back to the room. Pegabug drew a deep breath, and followed.
The woman who waited inside, she did look like Emilie Agreste. Exactly like Emilie Agreste, as far as Pegabug knew. Her hair, her bearing, even her dress. Without Viperion’s warning, the illusion would’ve absolutely had her.
It almost did, anyway.
“Ladybug,” she exclaimed, approaching with her arms open, “thank you so much for coming! I was so scared, I didn’t know who could possibly help me but you two! Oh, three.”
“Our pleasure, madame,” she assured stepping back to avoid an embrace as she took in all the of the details of the woman. Everything was perfect, as if she had been taken directly from one of her films. She did look as if she’d been held hostage, too: a little dirty, a little tired, with a few bruises on her arms, a little cut on her forehead. “Though Chat Noir certainly deserves all the credit.”
Emilie smiled, and Chat seemed to glow under her gaze. “Yes, absolutely. My new hero.”
“Madame,” he said, touching her back, “we need to get you out of here, get you to safety. There are a lot of people who will be relieved to see you.”
“My son! Adrien, I have to find Adrien!”
Ladybug’s heart sank. She wished this could truly be Emilie Agreste, that she really could deliver his mother to her old friend, but knew it couldn’t be true. Viperion’s glance her way seemed meant to remind her of that.
“He’ll be so happy to have you back,” Chat said, voice filled with feeling, as he began to shepherd her towards the exit.
“Staff out, Chat,” Viperion said, trailing behind them. “Someone was keeping her here and probably won’t want her leaving.”
He nodded, turning serious. His staff was drawn and extended, and the cat settled into his battle stance as Pegabug lead them back towards the exit. She took some comfort that, by simply being allowed by Viperion to lead them, nothing would be ahead.
Behind, though….
She turned sideways, still creeping forwards but able to see the entirely of the group.
“Thank you, oh thank you. Being free again, fresh air and the sun!”
Viperion gently hushed her. “Madame, please stay calm and quiet until we’re out of here. We need to be able to see and hear anything that might threaten us.”
Chat turned to shoot him an angry look, and Pegabug got a very bad feeling. Could he be Akumatized, already? He didn’t feel so changed, but there absolutely was something about him that had never been there before.
“Oh yes, of course. My apologies, Viperion, thank you.”
One less door between them and the sky. Phew. The bunker was yet as still as it had been the first time they’d passed through.
She was wearing Kaalki, she could spin up a Voyage and they could be out in moments. But something was going to happen, because something was very wrong. And she would rather it happen in the confines of the bunker, and not in public.
“I’m honored you know of me,” he said calmly. “You disappeared long before any of us existed.”
Merde. She had thought of timelines and how long it had been, but not that one. Emilie Agreste had died more than a year before Ladybug had been created, so how could she know to call her, even if she had the means?
She laughed, far too carefree for the situation. “I may have been held captive, but not on the moon!”
Chat Noir laughed with her. He should be much more focused. No matter how much he goofed off, he had always been serious where it counted. The change only brought her attention to how unreservedly she had always known she could trust him.
She had never given him enough credit.
Don’t get caught up.
“I can’t wait to see Adrien,” Emilie babbled, back at full volume. “He’s got to be so grown up by now, my beautiful petit chou!”
Every time she mentioned Adrien, it hurt. He’d become more and more isolated after everyone had graduated from university and gotten more scattered. Even in her head he was becoming the man on advertisements around the city, and a friend only in her memories. Nino, no matter how he tried, seemed helpless to draw him out.
How having his mother back would bring such life to him.
One less door to trap them there, and with each meter Pegabug could breathe a little easier. But, she knew, it was too easy. Something had to be waiting for them, other than the trip wire by the door leading to the stairs. It was probably for warning, not for demolition, although the Miraculous were supposedly indestructible and she wouldn’t put it beyond their foe to skip the whole Akuma business and blast them into pulp, then fish their jewels from the wreckage.
Pretty smart, actually.
She shuddered the thought out of her head and continued.
“My Adrien, do you know him? He was always so passionate about everything! And so kind. He had this stuffed animal, a little black cat he just called Chaton, he wouldn’t be without it for years. He took care of it like a real animal, even protected its feelings. Of course, every parent thinks their child is the most beautiful thing in all of creation, but everyone saw the spark in Adrien. It was his eyes, I always said. They could see how beautiful he was inside, through them. But he wasn’t even supposed to be a model, he just ran into one of my shoots one day when he was little, and the photographer kept going. How could anyone see him and not fall in love?”
Sigh. That was pretty much what happened to Marinette.
“Madame,” Pegabug gently reminded her, “please keep talking to a minimum for the moment.”
“Goodness, of course! I apologize, I’m just so excited! It’s such a relief to know this nightmare will finally end, and I can have a life with my son again.”
Three doors behind them, now. Halfway there.
“Oh!” Emilie cried out. “I forgot something!”
She moved so quickly, even Viperion couldn’t match her. The woman who seemed to be Emilie Agreste fled back through the previous door and it slammed behind her, along with the one leading out.
“No!”
Chat Noir was bolting for the door she had gone through when the lights went out. They were just flickering back on into a deep, emergency red, when a spark of green turned into a flash, and metal groaned and crumbled away. Pegabug and Viperion whirled around, searching for threats and automatically coming together to protect each others’ backs, weapons out.
Nothing, yet.
“Cataclysm!”
Pegabug’s eyes widened, she and Viperion seemed to understand at once.
Three doors behind them. Chat Noir had three Cataclysms.
They rushed to him, each pulling an arm back as he was headed for the third and final door. As if on cue, Emilie Agreste’s voice started up on the other side, calling for help, professing her terror. Begging Chat to save her.
“What the fuck, let go of me!” he yelled at the two of them.
“Chat,” Viperion said, forcefully but quiet, “it’s not her.”
His eyes went wide, wild. “Of course it’s her!”
“It can’t be her, kitty,” Pegabug explained, holding his hand as well as his arm. She was on the right side, where his Cataclysms originated. If he decided to activate another, she would immediately be hit. But she needed to hold his hand, then. Without understanding why, she knew that he was fully invested in the illusion. He was desperate to believe it. “She’s been gone longer than we’ve existed, she couldn’t have known to call us. And she couldn’t have called us, either. You know that message only could have come through a Kwami. This was always a trap.”
“I can fucking see it’s a trap! It doesn’t mean it’s not her!” He struggled against them both, as the illusion of Emilie banged on the other side of the door.
“Please don’t leave me! Please, don’t let me go!”
“I get how much you want it to be true,” Viperion was telling him, eye to eye, “but it isn’t, Chat. I’m so, so sorry, but it’s not her.”
“Yes it is!” he roared, pushing his boots off the door in front of him to flip backwards and out of their grasp.
“You only have one more Cataclysm!” Pegabug cried out. “Don’t do it!”
His eyes were connected to hers as he said the word. And neither would stand in his way as he rushed the door, right hand out. She and Viperion looked at each other as Chat Noir passed between them, and each looked absolutely dejected.
But there was hope. If he hadn’t used the Second Chance, there was a reason. They didn’t get to the point of no return, she being aware of these events proved that. Somehow, they would still win.
“Madame? What? Where are you?” Chat was spinning around in that final room where he had first found her, and where she had fled. It was empty.
Pegabug got to him first. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she forced him to look at her. “Chat, she was never here. She didn’t exist.”
“Yes she did,” he screamed, throwing her hands off of him. Even in the dim, sickly lightning, waterfalls of tears down his cheeks were glistening. “She does!” He ran along the walls, searching for hidden doors, flipping over desks. “She’s got to be here!”
A deep, familiar laugh began behind them, and the trap was complete. Confusion and desperation gave way to terror, and Pegabug’s body was churning from all the sudden changes of emotion. But Viperion had known Hawkmoth was here, they had gotten this far before. They were going to get further, now. He didn’t waste Second Chances, it being a shitty situation wasn’t enough to reset. They’d get through it, this time.
“Where is she?” Chat Noir snarled as Hawkmoth stepped through the door. Those little fangs of his she’d thought so adorable so soon before were bared like a rabid animal. His hands were fanned out, claws ready to slash, his entire body tense.
The villain only chuckled, resting his hands casually on his cane in front of him. “Where’s who?”
“My mother!”
The lights seemed to flicker once more, but it was only Pegabug’s perception. Her world was ejected in its entirety into the aether, and only her most basic, self-preserving aspects were available to scrape some semblance back together as she drifted, stunned, in the vacuum of her mind.
My mother.
The way he had frozen on that rooftop, gone pale. He’d heard the ghost of his mother’s voice. He was a little boy that had been long buried, bursting through the façade of a man who, when his identity was bared, had been burying all of himself away more and more.
Adrien.
Oh chaton, my chaton.
Hawkmoth’s grin could have turned water to ice. “I suspected as much.”
He had known. Somehow, he had known. This hadn’t just been a trap, it was a trap for Chat. And not only a physical one.
Don’t get caught up.
“She’s dead, Adrien. And I caused it."
“Putain fils de pute!” he howled, flashing forwards.
Reality slowed down. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was a sort of life flashing before your eyes phenomenon. Pegabug saw Chat Noir, saw Adrien Agreste dart towards Hawkmoth, rage and confusion and pain contorting the soul of two people she knew so well into a terrifying stranger. She saw Hawkmoth smile wickedly, his hands tilting back to release an Akuma from the top of his cane. The two moved towards each other, a collision course that could only mean disaster, and she was paralyzed. All these years battling nightmares and never freezing up, but she was incapacitated by the memory of ghostly blue eyes and a white suit, visions of a mad Chat Blanc above a dead world.
He was coming.
Viperion, though, he moved. He moved, somehow, faster. Into Chat Noir’s path, becoming Luka Couffaine as he reached for her hand. He grasped it just long enough to slide the Miraculous from his wrist to hers before Chat plowed into him, throwing his body towards the Akuma.
It was Silencer who hit the ground.