SPEAK
Summary: Adrien's mother taught him three things before she died: To be kind, to find the truth, and to always fight evil.
Word Count: 10K+
Rating/Warnings: T/one curse word, violence
Notes: This is miraculousturtle's (delayed) birthday present. Many thanks goes to mahaliciously for beta'ing it for me.
Happy Birthday Brownie! (Yes, I was the anon talking about how this was 4K a few days ago, lol.)
"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion." - Albert Camus
The boy enters the world during the early, pre-dawn hours on June 1, 2000 with a shrill cry, shattering the silence of the hospital.
Emiline Agreste holds the tiny bundle of pink flesh and blue blankets in her trembling arms with a smile on her sweat-drenched face. Gabriel Agreste studies him with nervous awe.
"Adrien," Emiline christens him some time later, and Gabriel agrees with her choice.
And so, Adrien becomes his name.
Adrien's first word is "ma," quickly followed by "pa," and then "cat." Emiline jokingly calls him her chaton, for his eyes always, always, always latch onto the graceful, mysterious creatures and stays on them until the felines are out of sight.
The first time it slips out of her mouth, Adrien giggles and claps his hands together, expressing his approval clearly.
As he grows older, it becomes obvious that Adrien's a mama's boy – Not to say he doesn't like his père (Adrien adores Gabriel, and Gabriel always humors him when he shows him the senseless scribbles he calls "dresses"), but he clings to Emiline.
His first friend is a girl named Chloé who he meets in the park one sunny day. She wears yellow and she always has a smile on her face as she sees him.
"Adri, Adri!" She will yell from her maman's arms, and Adrien will wave at her, running away from his own maman as her maman puts her on the ground.
The first time he screams at someone is when Chloé rips his teddy bear's arm off when he is seven.
"A-Adrien," she says, for once not calling him Adri. He stares at the arm in her hand as the stuffing slowly slips out of his bear's body. He can't speak, can't cry for a moment – It was the bear his papa got him in that fair. He blinks back tears. "I-I'm sorry."
He shakes his head. "You broke Mr. Brown." He whispers, and then, louder – "You broke Mr. Brown! Why?!"
"I-I didn't mean to," she snivels. "It was an accident. I'll buy you a new bear, Adrien. I promise. I'm super sorry."
He shoves her away from him. "NO. You will NOT buy me a new bear! I don't want to ever see you again!"
"Adrien!" Maman suddenly looms over him as Mme. B swoops in. Adrien swallows at the hard glint in her eyes as she drops down in front of him. "Apologize to Chloé."
"B-but—"
"No buts."
He turns to Chloé who is leaning against Mme. B's leg with big eyes. Tears run down her cheeks and he bites his bottom lip. "Sorry, Chloé," he mutters, already feeling a little guilty.
Maman sighs and lifts him into his arms, pulling Mr. Brown out of his hands. "I'm sorry this happened Alice. Perhaps we should get together another day?"
Mme. B nods and smiles at her, slipping her bag over her shoulder and grabbing Chloé's hand. "Chloé has homework she has to do anyway. Au revoir, Emiline."
Maman waves as they turn back toward home, and Adrien slips his arms around her neck even though he's a big boy now. Tears still trickle down his cheeks as he whimpers occasionally, wishing he could hold Mr. Brown but Mr. Brown is gone now.
"Chloé's your best friend, Adrien," she says quietly. She's not accusing him or scolding him, she's just stating a fact. "Sometimes being a friend is just letting things go."
He nods against her shoulder, and the words go deep down into his subconscious – Words that he'll try to live by one day when he's older.
Adrien rests his head on top of his maman's, draping his arms over her shoulders as he looks at the numbers on the sheet of paper.
"What are you doing?" He asks, refusing to move his chin from the crown of her hair. She chuckles.
"I'm budgeting for next month," she explains. "Your père has someone else do it, but I like to make sure everything lines up with my own eyes. Aren't you supposed to be working on history?"
He groans. "I hate history. I'd rather do science."
She rubs her knuckles through his hair roughly, messing it up. "You have to learn your history, chaton. Otherwise it'll just repeat itself until it is told."
"I have no idea what that means."
When she begins to cough, he pulls away – Especially when she has to double over. He raises his hand, unsure of how to help her. But she straightens, still coughing into her elbow occasionally, and smiles at him widely.
"You will understand someday."
~…~
But three days later, she collapses.
Adrien listens to the doctors speak to his père.
They tell him she has rare, mutant strand of cancer.
They say that it has been silently attacking her system, which is why they didn't catch it until now.
They say that there is no cure.
Chloé comes over one day, on one of the down days. Adrien is trying to understand substitution equations when she stomps into his too big room in the almost too silent house (he thinks it's too still, that there's no life but he pushes that thought away, into the box in the back of his mind where he doesn't allow light to shine) in all of her stubborn glory.
"Hello to you too, Chloé," he says as she pulls his chair out from his desk. She puts her hands on her hips, blue eyes shining.
"We're going out. This house is too quiet and I haven't seen my best friend in ages."
"You saw me a week ago?" He says slowly, not commenting on the first part of her statement. She shakes her head.
"For five minutes. We're going to the frozen yogurt store, and we're going to pretend none of this is happening for an hour."
"But it is happening, Chlo," he says. She pinches him. "Ow!"
"Yeah, but you're going to go mad if you stay in here while she …" She sniffles, rubbing underneath her eye. He averts his eyes. "Plus, my papa and maman are arguing and I … I don't …"
He bites his bottom lip and then he nods. He'll do it not for him, but for her.
"Okay," he says. Besides, it's not like he's going to be able to pay attention to algebra right now. He sweeps the coat off the back of his chair, pulling it across his shoulders and buttoning it up to give her time to compose herself again. "I'm coming."
She smiles weakly. "Thanks, Adri."
He shakes his head, grabbing a hat and an umbrella. "How about hot chocolate instead though? It's too cold out for frozen yogurt."
She laughs. "Okay, fine."
Adrien sits by his mother's bedside, reading out of his biology textbook to her. He tries to ignore the way the dark circles underneath her eyes contrast against her waxy, gray skin.
"… Most primates are arboreal or tree-dwelling. Arboreal primates live in the world's tropical and …"
"Adrien," she rasps, and he snaps his head back. She smiles at him, but he notices it barely reaches her eyes.
"Maman …" he breathes, and then he closes the biology textbook. "Are you thirsty? Do you want père – Or the doctor? Or …" He stands up. "I'll get them right now actually. I'll –"
She chuckles quietly, and takes his hand. He sits back down.
"Adrien," she repeats, reaching up to swipe some hair out of his face. He doesn't even find the heart to protest the fact she's playing with his hair. He wants to pretend that it's probably not the last time she'll be this alert. She's still smiling, but it's sad now. "Can you do something for me, chaton?"
He nods without hesitation. "Of course."
"Such a good boy …" she says, "I'm so proud of you, Adrien."
He smiles and jokes a weak, "I know."
"Please don't stop being kind." Her eyes are pleading, imploring, as she stares at him, ignoring his joke. His smile falls. "Don't ever stop believing in the good in people."
"I won't," he chokes out. His vision blurs. "I won't. Just please don't go maman … please, don't …"
She laughs sadly. "If only it's that easy. God is calling me to join Him now, and I can't say no."
"I know," he whispers, again.
"Don't be so sad. We'll see each other again one day – Though I hope not for at least another seventy years."
He laughs once. "I hope so too," he says.
She smiles. "Be good for your père too, okay? Don't go kissing strange girls."
"Mamaaaaaan." He complains halfheartedly, and her smile widens. He shuffles. "I'll be good. Promise."
She rubs her knuckles through his scalp. "I know."
Emiline Susan Agreste
April 9, 1979 – February 29, 2012
Adrien thinks the world is a far crueler place than it should be.
Père eventually stops coming down to eat dinner with him.
Adrien wishes he could remember when he stopped.
"Don't go kissing strange girls," his maman's words from almost a year ago echo through his mind the first time he kisses the other model for a photo shoot.
He has to excuse himself when the tears begin to burn in his eyes again.
His heart feels heavy as he stares at the night sky, wondering what it'll be like to be a star. He wonders what'll it'll be like to be able to flirt and speak what is on his mind without any filter.
He wonders what it would be like to feel wanted and loved.
Adrien stares at the box sitting on the coffee table before he pokes it with his toe.
It opens, and out comes a black, rat-like creature with a too large head who demands for him to feed it. The thing calls itself "Plagg" and says that he is a "kwami," someone who can give a human the ability to turn into a superhero.
And Adrien doesn't hesitate to seize the opportunity.
Before long, he realizes that if Adrien is confining, then being Chat Noir is freedom – For he can speak what is on his mind without the worry of the backlash on his père's reputation. He can laugh, pun, flirt – Do whatever he wants. He can speak the truth without any type of filter on his mouth to make it "politically correct."
He can be whoever he wants, and that is somehow more exhilarating than jumping off the Eiffel tower.
Then he meets Ladybug, and everything seems to click into place.
His père lets him attend the public school when he finally, finally, finally convinces to let him go. It may have taken several hours of negotiation, several days of pleading, outright begging, and even two or three attempts to sneak into the school (one of them successful), but he finally manage to step inside Collège Françoise Dupont.
Adrien tries and fails to explain to Marinette about the gum thing at first (and he doesn't quite understand why Chloé would do such a cruel thing; where was the kind girl he'd known all his life who fought injustice tooth and nail?), so he gives her his umbrella, hoping against hope she'll at least not hate him forever. Because he just wants people to like him, and Marinette seems so nice and warm and inviting.
Thunder clashes when their fingers touch, and he feels an electric shot go up and down his arm as they flinch.
The umbrella goes into her hands.
The next years pass by like a blur, and he thinks that they may very well be the best time of his life. He has Ladybug, friends - Plagg. He can be a hero and not stand by silently when people get hurt like how Adrien Agreste has to – to uphold the Agreste imagine, of course.
Give to the right charity not too much and not too little, turn a blind eye to all of the suffering going on around him …
But that is Adrien Agreste and not Chat Noir, who can go up to that hungry child and give his lunch to her. Chat Noir can be ridiculous to cheer someone up while Adrien Agreste has to be silent and the perfect child. Chat Noir can roar with his cackles and grin stupidly whenever he wants at whomever he feels like while Adrien Agreste has to control how loudly he laughs and how he smiles.
He thinks he's healing.
He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might be good enough for his père one day.
As Chat Noir, it feels like he can't not speak. Every purred innuendo slips out of his lips before he can censor it, every emotion he feels he expresses through his body or through his words, every laugh is genuine and true. Each time he feels the rush of fear, he knows that Ladybug will catch him – and that fills him with euphoria.
He thinks he's happy.
But then, and he's really not sure when or how it happened, or even when it began, it dawns on Adrien that he, Adrien, (not Chat Noir) has begun to speak. He's not sure if it's Nino wearing off on him, or if it's Chat Noir bleeding into his civilian persona.
He wonders if he should stop, but he can't bring himself to hold himself back anymore.
Because, by God, he was sick and tired of pretending by now – He didn't want to fake his smiles anymore, he didn't want to guard his words, didn't want to pretend he was happy when he was sad …
He wondered if his maman would still be proud of him. He thought that she might be, if she knew who Chat Noir was.
Or maybe she'd be worried out of her mind and angry because he knows his pere doesn't like the superheroes. It's been so long since he last saw her, almost three years now …
On a cold January night, the air nips at Chat Noir through his suit even as he curls next to Ladybug, sipping at the hot chocolate the man at the café had given them when they'd stopped the buggery.
"Chat?" She says, breaking the stillness in the air. He looks at her, and she smiles. Chocolate crusts her lips. "I'm so lucky to know you."
The warmth in his chest has nothing to do with the hot chocolate as he says, "I'm lucky I know you too." Because even if she doesn't return her feelings, it doesn't matter – She's his friend and he's so grateful to have her as his partner.
The laugh rips its way out of Adrien's chest before he can stop it, surprising both himself and Nino. Because he shouldn't laugh too loud, shouldn't laugh at his friend who trips over a cat because that was mean, but the way he flailed just –
Nino laughs too, and he decides that he's tired of letting his père dictate every move he makes. He's tired of pretending to be something he's not. He's tired of being perfect and soft-spoken and gentle. He wants to laugh and he wants his voice to roar and he wants to be everything Chat Noir is and everything Adrien Agreste is not but can be.
He wants to be more than his père expects him to be.
"Here," he says, still chuckling as he walks over to Nino. He holds his hand out, and Nino takes it with his firm, tight grip. He pulls him to his feet effortlessly. He smirks, "You may want to watch out this Friday, if this is a premonition –"
Nino shoves him, and Adrien stumbles, laughing.
Chat Noir thinks being Adrien Agreste is more than freeing – It's intoxicating.
"Are those chouquettes?" Adrien asks Marinette when he smells the pastries wafting from the box. She smiles and nods, walking over to his side of the desk.
"Fresh out of the oven. Want one?"
He hesitates and shakes his head. Yes, he thinks, but my père doesn't want me to eat sweets.
"I'm sorry, I'd love to try one but I can't. Modeling stuff."
"Oh." She drops her gaze to the box momentarily, and he feels guilty for that expression. She looks back up at him with such a hopeful expression that it makes him shuffle. "Not even a small one? You're so thin …"
"Well," he worries his bottom lip. He wants one so bad, but he shouldn't – He really shouldn't. But he's always so hungry, and Chat Noir'll burn off the extra calories later, anyway. He beams at Marinette, and suddenly feeling a little rebellious, he says, "Give me the largest one please."
She gives him two instead. He eats both of them.
And he doesn't even feel a little guilty, which should scare him because heremembers his maman telling him to be good for his père. But he's Chat Noir too, and he's been rebelling far too long to back out now.
The tears slide over leather as Ladybug crumbles to her knees, and he comes down with her.
"Don't ever do that again!" she shrieks. "You were dead and I thought – I thought – Lucky Charm wouldn't – "
He wraps his arms around her, ignoring the sound of their miraculouses beeping in unison. She clutches the still torn suit, fingers digging into the newly healed skin on his shoulder.
Her touch reminds him that he is still human beneath the mask; that Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste can still die.
"I know," he whispers, "I'm sorry for scaring you like that."
~…~
When Plagg tumbles out of the ring, bleeding and wounded, Adrien panics for a moment.
Then, as he finds and wraps bandages around the small creature, Plagg explains that he is the suit, that he is the one who takes each hit, each blow. And as he explains, the horror fills Adrien and before he realizes it, the tears drip down his nose.
Plagg looks at him with confusion and says, "Why are you crying?"
And Adrien tries to wipe the tears away, but they're only replaced by more as he says, "Because it's not right. You shouldn't be the one injured for my stupid mistakes."
He smiles sadly, telling him, "Oh, Adrien. You don't think my stupid mistakes got me in this in the first place?"
That was when Adrien sobs and pulls Plagg close to his chest, mindful of his injuries as he attempts to hug the small feline.
~…~
The next time Ladybug's life is threatened, Adrien's first instinct is to shield her with his own body – But he remembers Plagg telling him how he's the one who takes each injury.
So he tackles Ladybug instead, and the poisoned arrow sails harmlessly over their heads.
"Hey, Adrien?" Marinette says slowly, and he looks up at her. "You're a model. Take off your shirt."
He chokes on the coffee Nino gave him (that he shouldn't be drinking) and splutters, "W-What?"
"Just your over shirt," she explains distractedly, and then she swears under her breath and sucks her thumb. "I hate needles."
Alya snorts from the book she is reading and says, "Do what she says, Model Boy."
He slowly slides out of the unbuttoned white shirt and Marinette throws some brown material across his shoulders.
A coat. Made out of leather?
She lifts his arms and ducks under them, measuring his biceps with her hands. For a moment, he scrambles to find something to do so his brain to mouth filter suddenly disappears, and he (stupidly) says, "Like how they feel?"
They both freeze and she blinks up at him with reddening cheeks as his brain catches up with his mouth. Nino laughs. Alya's book hits the ground with a thud.
has stopped working.
"I-I –" apparently stops working too.
"Uh – Wait, I – gah – I'm sorry, I meant – I mean – It just –"
She lets go of his arms as if they burn. Her. Not the other way around. He tries to get his brain to work right again.
Then she smiles slyly and winks, and short circuits because (ahhhh) she looks so much like Ladybug with that sassy look on her face that it almost scares him –
"That's for me to know and you to find out, handsome boy."
Gah. Nope. Yep. Bye. I am dead.
Alya shrieks and grabs Marinette, propelling her away. Adrien soundlessly attempts to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a very unmanly squeak.
"Smooth, Agreste," Nino laughs, "Very smooth."
And he wonders if Chat Noir is slipping into Adrien Agreste's life, or it's Adrien Agreste allowing Chat Noir to enter it.
"Je t'aime," the words slip off Chat Noir's tongue into the warm, summer night before he can stop them. And Ladybug stares at him with wide, stricken eyes.
His heart sinks faster than a penny being dropped from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
"Kitty … I'm sorry. There's someone else."
He doesn't expect for it to hurt so much, and what made it worse was the fact that she looks so guilty, as if it was her fault for not returning his feelings, and that makes him feel terrible. Because Adrien knows better than to speak what he thinks without pausing and making sure it's the right thing to say.
But Chat Noir says what is on his mind the second it pops into his mind, because he has no head to mouth filter, and suddenly he understands why his père drilled into him so often to be careful about what you tell someone.
So Adrien forces a grin on Chat Noir face, because he can't … he can't not smile for her. He can't allow that look to be on her face for him. He shouldn't have told her - why couldn't he keep his big, fat mouth shut?
Why was he so selfish?
"I … Okay." He chokes out. He steps back. "Sorry for bothering you … I guess I'll just, err …" He gestures vaguely in some direction he can't even remember. The grin wavers.
"Chat Noir!" she says softly, taking his wrist. His heart stutters and aches, but he looks into her eyes anyway because he can't stop himself and because he can't hurt her and because he's selfish, and he doesn't deserve her. "I care for you … you're one of my best friends."
He gently pries her fingers off, knowing she's trying to reassure him but it stings and it hurts me so much but he can't let her know that, because she'll be hurt and he wasn't going to allow himself to hurt her any more. He couldn't, he'd promised he wouldn't –
He wasn't his père, after all.
"I know, my lady." He says, still forcing himself to smile – It feels so much like a smile Adrien would wear, not Chat Noir. "I just …" He shakes his head, unable to finish the sentence. The smile wavers before he pulls it back up. "Thanks for telling me the truth." He forces out.
He yanks his arm out of her hand and springs into the humid night.
~…~
By some miracle, he somehow manages to stumble into his room alive and unharmed physically, even though the rain has begun to pour and the roof tops are slick.
Je t'aime …
He falls against the wall. He feels like he's about to throw up.
I'm sorry. There's someone else.
He slides to the ground and brings his hands up, staring at them without really feeling anything.
Thanks for telling me the truth.
The drops on the leather can't come from the rain outside because he's inside his room. But his too big room only reminds him of how alone in the world he is – His père is absent all the time, he's treated like a possession, Adrien has to be perfect and Chat Noir is … an idiot.
And he thinks that if this is what love is, what it truly is, he doesn't want it.
He dry heaves as he folds over, abruptly releasing the transformation as his head falls into his hands.
Maman told me there's a time and a place to speak my mind, oh God … Why didn't I remember that? I shouldn't … I should have listened to her.
He gasps through the sobs that wrack across his body. His heart feels like it's being ripped in two.
I care for you … you're one of my best friends.
But he didn't want to be one of her best friends – he'd wanted so much more and now … The possibility was gone because he'd open his big fat mouth and he'd been so happy pretending that one day, maybe, perhaps, she'll be able to return his feelings.
But, oh, God, he honestly feels sick and he doesn't want this, and he can't … What if he made it awkward? What if he'd destroyed that too?
He bends over, his head dropping onto his hand as he chokes on his sobs.
~…~
"Are you okay, Adrien?" Marinette appears in front of him with wide blue eyes, shouldering her pink purse. "You look kind of out of it."
He forces a smile on his face, but her gaze is too observant for his own good, so he drops his eyes to the jeans he had tugged on early this morning. He traces patterns over the lines.
"I'm fine, Marinette," he says, even though he feels everything but fine. "I just wasn't able to sleep well last night."
He thinks she doesn't completely believe him even though he told her nothing but the truth (even if he left some of it out), but she doesn't pry.
Either that, or she's too tired to question his words if the bags underneath her eyes were anything to go by. He wonders if he looks as tired as she does.
"Well, if you want, we always have extra croissants that are too old to sell, but still fresh."
The smile feels a little more genuine as he mumbles, "Thanks, princess."
Then he freezes – How stupid can he get, calling her by the same name Chat Noir does?
And he says, "Sorry! It was a slip of the tongue!"
She studies him, but eventually, she nods slowly. "Okay," she says. And then she smiles. "Princess is very cute."
He breathes a sigh of relief and laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, if you're okay with it …"
"'course," she says, hooking her fingers into her pockets. She smiles slyly, a sparkle in her eyes that wasn't there a few minutes again, and it reminds me of that moment in time so long ago – When he gave her his umbrella to shield her from the rain to make peace, to ask for forgiveness. "So long you don't call other girls princess."
He tries to repress his smile. "You may have to fight Nino for that. I may have slipped up once or twice when I was only on my first cup of coffee."
She blinks once, twice, and then she giggles.
"Are you even allowed to drink it? My maman said it stains your teeth."
He smiles guiltily. "Well, my père technically doesn't know so . . ."
~…~
He forces himself to go on patrol with Ladybug that night.
The silence is stilted until a pun slips from his lips and she laughs. The air becomes lighter, and he thinks that they'll be okay eventually.
Maybe their rhythm is not quite in sync, and maybe their timing is a little off, but he knows they'll make it work, because they're Ladybug and Chat Noir and they have to make it work, because they're partners in fighting evil and that's more than just them.
It's always been more than just them, really, but Adrien thinks the Chat Noir hasn't really realized that until now because Chat Noir was caught up in the freedom it gave Adrien.
~…~
A large thermos of coffee and two cinnamon rolls sit on his side of the desk, and Adrien smiles slowly, his heart warming.
It hurts still, but he's definitely not alone. He has several friends who's got his back.
And with friends like them …
Chat Noir thinks Adrien Agreste may be freer than he is.