AN: I don't own anything or intend to make any money from it, just borrowing the characters for fun/therapy.
Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts/intent
Chat Blanc - Descent into Madness
His feet were cold. That was the first thing Adrian Agrest became aware of as his consciousness came back to him. They were cold and wet. He opened his eyes and immediately jumped into a catlike stance, to better take in the scene he had awoken to. Most notable was the moon, hanging huge in the sky, splintered in half. That certainly explained the lack of waves in the ocean he stood besides, the ocean he had to assume was once Paris. A leg of the Eiffel Tower protruded from the water, along with a scatting of rooftops from the tallest buildings in Paris, like the one he had apparently washed up on. It reminded him of Syren's attack, but with far less survivors clinging to rooftops. In fact the only survivor in sight, was himself.
And what a sight he was. Looking down at his hands he could see the white gloves that had replaced his black ones when the akuma had taken hold of him. His top, his tail, his stick, his boots, all still pristine white, even after being in the water and… and what had come before it. The cataclysm.
"What have I done?" he muttered to himself. He needed to fix this, or rather, he needed his Ladybug to. "Marinette? Marinette!"
Panic seized him as it sunk in that she was not with him, that he couldn't see her anywhere. Surely her suit must have protected her from the blast. She must have washed up on a rooftop, just like he had. Perhaps she simply hadn't woken up yet, but she would soon and he would be there waiting when she did. Waiting to apologise, and to help her cleaning up his mess. He wouldn't fight her, would willingly hand her his akumatised bell, so they could fix this.
The next rooftop was only 30 feet away, not a huge leap for someone of his skill set. No sign of her here, so he moved on to the next, a little further away, but still well within reach for his pole. Empty too. He searched further and further, building up a mental map of this new landscape as he did so. He knew these rooftops like the back of his hand from patrols, and it wasn't difficult for him to match it up with the Paris he knew below the water. But none of that seemed to be helping him find his lady, and his unease was growing with every rooftop searched. His search was becoming frantic, he shouted her names louder and louder in desperation, but still nothing. Finally he reached the last of the tall building sticking out of the water, and fell to his knees in despair when he found it empty.
"Where are you, Mi'lady?" He begged the air, before dropping his gaze to the sea below. Could she be underwater? It made sense actually, that if she had woken first she probably would have dove straight in to find and help any survivors. It was probably her who pulled him onto the safety of the roof until he could wake up and join her below. He'd better not keep her waiting.
With a twist of his baton he activated the oxygen mask in it and fitted it into his mouth, before diving in. His cats eyes saw clearly through water as if he were wearing goggles, and giving him the full picture of the damage his cataclysm had caused. Usually white building were streaked with black burns, the people all frozen statues of ash. As he swam past the Louvre he noticed that the famous glass pyramids that marked the site had caved in, either from the blast or the water pressure. It was a good thing the ladybugs could restore any damage to the priceless art beneath, he just had to find his lady to do it. He carried on circling through the streets of Paris, subconsciously spiralling inwards towards ground zero, the Eiffel Tower.
Here the blackening was far worse, everything was ash, all the people statues. Perhaps that was why he didn't see her until her was only feet away from her. He had been so focused on looking out for her distinctive red suit, he almost didn't recognise the lifeless, dark grey pillar of ash she had become. As soon as he did the full weight of what he'd done hit him like a train. She was dead, he had killed her. He yanked his breather out of his mouth just in time before his stomach emptied itself into the water in front of him, and then choked on the water he automatically inhaled after. Both the horror of what he had done, and his body's desperation for air drove him back to the surface.
Dragging himself out of this water onto a jutting piece of the tower, his gasps for air soon became sobs of despair. He hugged his knees to his chest, rocking and wailing as he replayed what he had seen over and over again in his mind. That hauntingly empty stare of her once blue eyes, once pink lips parted in a soft expression as her hand reached out to help him. Too busy trying to save him to save herself, if that was even possible. He had done everything he could to divert the blast from her, and it still hadn't been enough.
The memory of her ashen face shook loose another painful memory in him; his mother. Their eyes were such a similar shape. The pain of finding her comatose in a secret attic lair under his house, was still fresh, as was his Father's betrayal. All this time his father had been trying to save his mother by sending villain after villain after his son. That was so messed up. And then when he realised it was his son he was endangering, he didn't hold back either. The blows he'd struck with his cane when Adrien had refused to hand over his ring hadn't actually hurt that much physically, but emotionally it had been devastating. More than enough to akumatise him, and his father didn't hold back from that either. Then he'd ordered him to kill ladybug, to chose between the love of his life, and his mother. Had his mother even survived the blast, safe in her glass cocoon? Or had he killed them both in the end? That was almost too much to bear.
Thoughts of his mother he pushed aside, he had already somewhat come to terms with her death during the year she'd been missing. It was not so easy to ignore the agony of what he had done to his lady. The irony didn't escape him that he had been the one to kill her after how hard he had worked to protect her since they had met. How many times had he shielded her with his own body and taken the hit to protect her? There had been Timebreaker, Dark Cupid, and Zombiezou's hordes to name but a few. Not to mention the 25913 times he had turned back time to save her as Aspik. He was always able to do so with full confidence that she would find a way to save him, to bring him back. Though even if she couldn't, he was sure he would have done so regardless. And now their roles were reversed, he was the only one left alive, and he couldn't fix anything.
Or could he? Fighting his despair away with one final sniff, he diverted his thoughts to trying to find a way out of this horrible situation. Had Ladybug called on her lucky charm already during that final confrontation? He couldn't remember, it all happened so fast, and he was too distracted. If she did, would it still be floating around down there somewhere? If he found it and hurled it into the sky would the ladybugs obey him and fix this mess? It was a long shot… a very long shot. Or what about her earrings? The miraculous itself had to be indestructible, right? It was decided then, he just had to go back down, face the ashen ghost of his love and take her miraculous. He could then become Ladybug, or the male equivalent himself, create a lucky charm, deakumatise himself and call on the miraculous ladybugs to fix everything. Or he could just use the two miraculous to make a wish, but only as a last resort.
Breather back on, Cat Blanc dove back in the water with a flourish. He kicked his way back down in a wide spiral, throughly searching the area for any hints of a lost lucky charm. Of course he had no such luck, but he'd known it was a long shot anyway. As he drew closer to his father and his lady he started to waver. Could he really bear to get so close to her again, to have those lifeless eyes staring through him as he tried to take her most prized possession from her corpse? The reality of it made him want to scream, to break down in tears again. He wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a curse that he couldn't do either of those things underwater. He had to push on. He slowed his pace as he got closer, not wanting to cause too much disruption to the water around her, lest she fade away like all cataclysmed things did. Ever so gently he eased in to arms reach of her, tilting his head for a better look at her ears. Her hair was blocking them slightly, but he could see the earrings there; dull, black and cracked. Useless.
"I'm sorry." He said into the water, though all that came out was bubbles. He turned away carefully, and as soon as it was safe kicked his way violently to the surface. The Montparnasse tower wasn't too far away, so he used his baton to launch himself up, away from the cursed water.
"What am I supposed to do now?," he begged of the sky. He wasn't ready to give up fighting, he had to believe there was a way to fix this, but his hope was fading fast. Without her it all fell apart, he couldn't fix things like she could, couldn't look at a seemingly random object and come up with a perfect plan. He was used to being told what to do, he needed someone to tell him what to do. "What do I do?" He groaned, sinking to his knees.
Time passed, only measurable by the sun sinking over the horizon, plunging him into darkness. This had become his favourite time of day over the last year when the night was young and him and his lady would patrol the rooftops, watching over Paris's busy nightlife. The bustling bars, the couples strolling hand in hand admiring the lights of the Eiffel Tower reflected in the Seine, the merchants at the Trocadero selling flashy trinkets to tourists, and the music spilling out of Olympia. The lights, the sounds, the people, everything that made Paris so alive, we're all gone now, and it left him feeling lonelier than he'd ever felt before. It occurred to him that since Plagg had come into his life, he had never actually been alone. He could really use a chat with his Kwami right about now.
"Plagg, claws in." He called out. Nothing happened. He had suspected that things might work a little differently since he was akumatised in Noir form. It looked like he would have to shake this akuma before he could de-transform.
That shouldn't be too difficult, since Hawkmoth wasn't on the other end of the akuma, exerting his influence on him. He tried not to think about the fact that Hawkmoth was his father, whom he had killed. No, not going there, that lead to despair, and despair was the last thing he needed when trying to get rid of an akuma. The easiest thing to do was just to break the bell on his chest, that was where the akuma went, right over his heart. Except it wasn't that easy. Usually his enhanced strength was more than enough to break open an akumatised object, but the bell refused to shatter. Or his hand refused to shatter it, he wasn't sure which. An inbuilt safety features of akumas, maybe, that they couldn't be broken by their victims? It made sense. Which meant there was only one way for him to get rid of his akuma by himself; he had to fight it off mentally, as Chloe once had. Taking a big breath, Adrien sat himself up and settled cross-legged on the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind.
Images of his lady flooded his mind. Her laugh, her smile, her expression frozen in fear. Her clumsiness, her graceful acrobatics, her lifeless corpse. The blue of her eyes, and the pink blush of her cheeks and grey, grey, grey. The joy she had brought into his life was eclipsed by how he had ended it. He had to get away from thoughts of her; they couldn't help him get rid of his akuma now. Besides, that wasn't the source of the trauma that had akumatised him, the source he needed to confront. Just like that Marinette's face morphed into his mothers statue, then her comatose body in the attic. Why?! What had happened to her? Why had his father lied about her disappearance? Why had his father sealed her away in a secret attic hideout rather than take her to hospital? For that matter, why did they have a secret attic hideout? Why did his Father have the butterfly miraculous? What else were his parents hiding from him? Had his whole life been a lie?
The answers to all his questions were out of reach now, he would never know. And that elusive knowledge tormented him, as much as the truths he had uncovered. He wished he had never set eyes on his mothers capsule, he wished he had found it sooner. He wanted his family back the way they were, but now he realised he never really knew them. He doubted even the miraculous ladybugs would be able to fix that.
His akuma wasn't going anywhere. He opened his eyes to see the sun had risen while his thoughts had been tormenting him. Had it been a whole day since it had happened? Had it only been a day? It was probably for the best that he wasn't able to de-transform, Plagg would be starving by now. For that matter, so was he.
A large portion of the Montparnasse tower was still above water, so there was a good chance he could find some food inside. And searching gave him something to do other than dwell on torturous thoughts. The restaurant on the 56th floor seemed like the best place to start, so he opened the roof door and made his way down the emergency access staircase. For the first couple of floors, the bland emptiness of the staircases and corridors held no hint of the horrors that had happened. He could almost imagine it was any other day in here. Then he saw one, on the 57th floor. The ashen ghost of some employee who had ducked into the stairwell for a cigarette break and met his demise there. Adrien turned his face away in shame as he ducked past him, and down the last staircase to the restaurant.
He should have known it would only be worse in here. Seated at every table was charcoal ghosts of those he had killed, the ghosts of servers leaning over or dodging around the tables. Even the decorative plants, the flowers in tables were likewise turned to ash, everything organic - including the food. It was just as well, his appetite had vanished, even if the hunger pangs hadn't. He didn't search any further, just dashed back up to his rooftop hideout to escape the shame of what he had done.
By the evening the hunger pains were crippling. What wouldn't he give for a fresh croissant, or maybe some macaroons from Marinette's father's bakery. The thought of the friendly giant of a baker filled him with sadness once more, yet another death on his conscience. He remembered when Tom had found him on the balcony with Marinette as Cat Noir. Some fathers may have reacted angrily to the flirtatious feline hanging around their young daughters, but Tom had welcomed him with open arms. Well, until he's broken Marinettes heart and there had been all that business with the akuma, but once that was settled he'd been really quite forgiving. And Marinette's mother, Sabine had been such a level head through it all. Both had been so welcoming too when he had started seeing Marinette as Adrien. He would really miss them.
He let his mind wander over everyone he knew, everyone he had lost, no - killed, paying his last respects to them in his mind. Nathalie and his bodyguard, who had become like second parents to him. Nino, his best friend and all the awesome music he had introduced him to. Alya, with her fearlessness documenting them as superheroes. Chloe, as bratty as she had been as a teenager, he still had many fond memories of her when they were younger, playing hide and seek, and tying him up with her skipping rope to practise makeup on him. He'd never gotten to know her friend Sabrina very well, other than as Chloe's minion, but would always be great full to her for sticking with Chloe despite how difficult she could be. Then there was Max and his amazing computer, Markov. Ivan and Mylene, such a sweet couple. Juleka and her brother Luka, living on their awesome houseboat with their eccentric mum. Rose, with her endless optimism. Alix's skates and sarcasm. Nathaniel and Mark's amazing comic book that they'd been working on together. He'd even miss Kim's dares, though he was eternally grateful that no one was in the girls loo's when he'd dared him to go in there. Kagami's intensity, and how it pushed him to be a better fencer. He would keep them all with him, alive in his heart. It was the least he could do.
He stared up at the moon again. How many days had it been now? He was starting to lose track.
He found himself wondering if he was truly the last person alive on earth, or if others had survived out there. Staring up at the shattered moon he had his doubts. But then, he had swung his aim upwards to try and avoid hurting anyone, so while Paris may be in a crater and the moon was in pieces, he may not have damaged the rest of the world. All of France? Probably. Surely not all of Europe though? Africa, America, Asia, Australia… all of the 'A's really should still be intact, the people on them still alive. He hoped. The broken moon mocked him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered a science lesson explaining how vital the moon was to life on the earth, and all it did for them. If there was survivors, how long could they survive without it? Had he condemned the rest of humanity to a worse death, a slow and painful one? Or could they recover? If there was any hope of that, he should probably stay away from them to be safe. He was too dangerous to be around.
Too dangerous to live.
They had always shown mercy to the victims of akumas. No matter how much damage they had caused, how many people they had hurt. Once it was fixed, it was fixed, no real harm done. And the person who had become the villain, they were not truly responsible for it, after all it had been Hawkmoth taking advantage of their negative emotions, forcing them to go to extremes they never would have otherwise. They were just in pain, in need of help, and they would always help them if they could.
But him? Did he deserve mercy? He wasn't so sure. Yes he was hurt, unspeakably so, but he also knew better. He had been entrusted with such great and terrible power, the miraculous of destruction, because he was supposed to be better. And what had he done with his gift? He'd allowed himself to be turned into a weapon, the deadliest of weapons. Even once akumatised, there had been others, others with far less practise in being a hero than him, who had shown restraint with their powers. Kim as Dark Cupid hadn't shot Chloe, even though she was the one who hurt him. Luka had used his power as a relatively peaceful protest, targeting only those who deserved it, or directly opposed him. Dark Owl hadn't actually hurt anyone, only pretended too, neatly trapping just Ladybug and Cat Noir. The list went on and on. But him? He'd been akumatised less than a minute and he'd wiped out the whole city. He'd broken things to the point they couldn't be fixed. He didn't deserve mercy. He deserved death.
"Cataclysm." He whispered, brokenly.
As soon as the power started to build in his claws he regretted it. He was too powerful in this form, and the cataclysm quickly started to swell out of his control. He fought desperately to reign it in, sweat breaking out on his forehead and veins throbbing. Was this what it was like when Plagg tried to use his power without a holder? No wonder he had wiped out the dinosaurs. With great effort he managed to contain it, panting and groaning with the effort it took. He just held it, a colossal ball of a bright destructive power, until he got his breath back, then he fought again to bring it to heel, dialling it down to just a fraction of what it had been. The glowing ball now fit in his hand, but it had the power of an atomic bomb.
"I'm so sorry, Marinette." He apologised once more, before pressing the glowing ball to his chest.
The world went white, and then black, and then he awoke, laying on the ground and feeling like he had been hit by a bus. Actually, being hit by a bus in his Noir form had hurt far less. He was far less troubled by the pain though as the fact that he was still here. That cataclysm should have been enough to destroy anything, and he'd taken a direct hit, he shouldn't have survived it.
"Cataclysm!" He called again, without hesitation. Again it tried to overcome him, but he was ready for it this time, channeling it to the size he needed. Bigger this time, though still less than half of what he had destroyed the moon with. This time he went for the head.
He woke on the ground again with a groan. It still wasn't enough. Part of him knew it would never be enough, that as wielder of the miraculous of destruction he could not be destroyed by it. That didn't stop him trying again though. And again. And again, each time more powerful than the last, until finally he hit himself with the same destructive force that had ruined his life to begin with. Of course, it too only left him gasping. He daren't go any bigger, he didn't want to risk hurting anyone else outside of the area he had already destroyed. So he gave up, resigning himself to live with what he had done.
Perhaps this was the most fitting punishment for him anyway. Death would be far too merciful for what he'd done. Instead he had a life sentence in his own personal hell, unable to leave or die, sustained and kept alive by his miraculous and the akuma. He had always hated solitude, back when he'd just been a lonely, homeschooled son of a designer. How spoiled he'd been back then, in his mansion, in his room with every luxury he could ever want, a father - no matter how distant - and all of Paris outside his window to watch. He'd felt so empty back then, but now he knew what true emptiness was. This wasteland, with everyone he'd ever known and cared about dead, this was true emptiness, true loneliness, true torture. It was everything he deserved and more.
Time kept on passing, and as it did, slowly the hunger, the pain over what he'd lost, it all started to fade. He was becoming numb to it, no more aware of them that he was usually aware of his ears or his toes. They were just a part of him. And as they slipped away, so did his sanity. He sat down on the edge of the roof, staring out over the water and began to sing.
"Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his lady…"