Initial Author's Note: Set late S5, canon compliant up until this story. Title is from R.E.M.'s song It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) Cross-posted on ao3. Enjoy!
Luka leaned against the balcony railing, the Mekong invisible below except where moonlight glinted off the occasional eddy. His eyes were closed and his face serene; only a hint of a smile graced his lips as he listened to the droning of nocturnal insects that rose from the jungle and echoed off the mountains. It was worlds away from the all-encompassing urbanity of Hong Kong or Paris' familiar stonework, but Luka found it just as enchanting.
Rightfully speaking, he should've been asleep hours ago, but the lazy day traveling down the river had left him restless, so he'd come outside to bask in the night's symphony. He missed Juleka and Anarka, as well as his friends, and living with Jagged and Penny took some adjusting; he had faith his friends would defeat Monarch soon, though.
The distinct sound of a vibrating phone on wood joined in with the other sounds, and Luka opened his eyes, his smile growing. It might be the middle of the night for him, but it was a while after dinner for his friends, and it wasn't unusual for one of them to accidentally call and wake him up. Goosebumps prickled over his skin as he stepped into the relatively cool room to pick up the phone. At least, he mused, he was already awake this time.
He glanced at the screen as he picked up the phone and swiped to answer, "Hey Adrien, it's good to hear from you." Of course, Luka could keep up with Ladybug and Chat Noir via the news and most of his friends over social media; because of Adrien's schedule and father, though, a spontaneous phone call was atypical, albeit welcome.
Silence was the only response.
Luka frowned in confusion, "Adrien?" He asked, "Did you mean to call? The silence persisted, not even background noise coming through.
"I — I think. Oh God. Luka. I think I killed my father."
Luka didn't comprehend for a moment, struck by the anguish saturating Adrien's voice. Then, the meaning of Adrien's broken words sunk in, and he froze. The world went silent; he felt like ice water had replaced his blood.
He willed the world to come back into focus, scrambling to make sense of what could've happened. One thought rose to the forefront of his confusion, and listening to the panicky, barely audible gasps from the line, he blurted out, "Are you safe?" Luka was sure, whatever the story was, Adrien would never willingly hurt his father; only extraordinary circumstances could've forced him to such uncharacteristic action.
No answer was forthcoming, but then Luka heard another voice answering him, "The kid's nodding; I'm not really sure about that, in the grand scheme of things, but right now, sure." Luka assumed that was Plagg speaking, but before he could respond, Plagg continued, "Besides, much like the vegan cheese fad, Gabriel's still alive. Unfortunately."
Luka sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to process the conflicting statements and emotions. "Adrien, if your father is still alive and well, then you didn't kill him. Okay? You did not kill him. For now, before anything else, can you breathe with me for a minute? Plagg will help too." Luka ignored the absurdity of forcefully volunteering a cat, let alone the feline manifestation of destruction, and instead concentrated on calm breathing and finding a semblance of peace.
"Not too bad, kid. I can see why you and ol' Scaly worked well together." Luka opened his eyes, the gossamer-thin aura of calm he'd managed to scrape up already faltering against Plagg's irreverent nature. He needed more information, but he suspected that Plagg's insouciant treatment of Adrien's possible patricide might only make things worse.
"Not right now please Plagg." Adrien said, his voice no longer charged with frantic energy, instead flattened and dulled by exhaustion and something else Luka couldn't identify. Resignation or defeat, perhaps. Whatever it was, Luka was unused to hearing it from Adrien, and hearing it now only furthered his concern.
Plagg scoffed, "Tell Luka then. He'll agree with me; you just don't because you're too tangled up in this mess." Luka was pretty sure Plagg was wrong. Although he might disagree with Mr. Agreste's parenting—such as it was—he didn't think patricide was something he'd ever condone.
Through the phone, Adrien coughed lightly and cleared his throat, pulling Luka's attention back to the mystery at hand. "I went to see my father in his home office and the door was open. I—". Adrien stopped, and Luka waited to see if he'd restart or needed another minute. "This situation is my fault. I'm supposed to knock no matter if the door is open, but I thought. . .Father has been different lately, and I forgot." He sighed, and there was a quiet thud of what Luka guessed Adrien leaning back against a wall.
"I remember when Mother was dying." Luka blinked at the seeming non sequitur, trying to understand how it was relevant to what he knew so far. "She would seek me out more often, instead of waiting for me to go to her. More emotional too, even for things that didn't seem that important; it was as if she was afraid every time was the last time." Luka still wasn't quite sure how this connected overall, but he thought he understood what Adrien meant when he'd said, 'different.'
"Father is doing the same thing, in his own way, and Natalie is too." Luka shifted, heart clenching painfully in sympathy, although privately, he couldn't help but think Mr. Agreste's death wouldn't be wholly unfortunate. Neither was he comfortable celebrating another's death though, and this was clearly painful for Adrien, still. . .
"My heart grieves for you, and I hope for your sake that you've misinterpreted their behavior, but their illnesses are not your fault. They can't be." Luka said, tone gentle but uncompromising.
His only answer was a miserable sounding-sniffle. Then, somewhat to Luka's surprise, Plagg chipped in, "See Adrien, I told you the same thing. That's two of us, and this guy was chosen by Sass; his wielders usually know a thing or two, probably because they're like an aged Parmesan, a little time and work, and voila, they're delicious!" Or wise, I guess." Torn between being flattered or concerned, Luka was surprised when Adrien seemed to derive some solace from Plagg's questionable reassurance and metaphor.
"Thanks Plagg, but you're biased and I still haven't—" Adrien cut himself off again. He huffed out a frustrated breath that hitched in the middle, then resumed, rushing as if he thought any further delay or hesitation might dam up his story for good.
"Remember a few weeks ago when Monarch was out in person and Ladybug couldn't fix everything because he stole her Lucky Charm?" Adrien didn't give Luka time to answer, although Luka did remember, if only because of the slew of articles it had engendered. Most had been reasonable and wrote about how fortunate it was that the fight hadn't been too destructive; a handful, though, had forecasted doom and destruction for the city. "Ladybug and Chat Noir had Monarch trapped in the Grēvin Wax Museum's Hall of Heroes and Monarch couldn't escape. Ladybug had him caught in her yo-yo, Chat Noir had Cataclysm ready as a deterrent. But, Monarch. He. He played along until he didn't."
Adrien broke off, his formerly dispassionate tone only a memory, and with a sharp inhale, continued. "Chat Noir cataclysmed Monarch—". Luka was stopped cold for the second time that night, his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his chest before pounding too loud in his ears. Even expecting calamitous news, he needed a moment to process, and so almost missed the rest "—and I didn't knock and accidentally saw Father without his layers and Luka. He'd been cataclysmed from the same place." Adrien's voice was a frayed whisper by the end, and in the silence after he finished, Luka understood.
In the off-black gloom of his room, with the AC chill prickling his skin, Adrien's story echoed in his head. Luka wished he felt surprised; instead, all he could think was that it made far too much sense that Gabriel Agreste was Monarch. He had time and people he could delegate to; no shortage of money nor danger of running short; but perhaps most importantly, Luka thought, Mr. Agreste had motivation. Then, the awful irony sunk in. A fresh wave of alarm surged through him.
"Is it at all possible you're mistaken?" He asked, voice sharp with urgency.
"No." Adrien laughed once, a sharp, ugly sound full of self-recrimination. "I know exactly what cataclysm does; there's nothing else it could've been."
Plagg added, "Even if Adrien couldn't tell, I can. Every artist recognizes his own work, as I'm sure you understand."
Unfortunately, Luka did understand what Plagg meant. He meant that instinctive feeling of recognition; Luka cherished it when he heard one of his friends humming one of his or Kitty Section's songs. It was a special type of euphoria when the feeling resonated through him; right now though, he futilely wished Plagg and Adrien didn't understand that feeling, if only it meant Chat Noir's cataclysm wasn't the cause of Mr. Agreste's illness.
"Okay." Luka said, trying to push past the internal cacophony of emotions and thoughts, scrambling for what to do or say next. He'd never considered what to do in this situation; he wasn't even sure there was anything he could do. But he had to try, for his friends, for everyone Monarch hurt or jeopardized, and for himself. "What can I do to help you?"
"You mean besides stay far, far away from Paris and Monarch?" Plagg scoffed, "You did good fending on Monarch's mental incursion, but—no offense—the worst thing you could do right now is come back." Although Plagg was only saying what Luka himself was thinking, he couldn't help the twinge of irritation at his cavalier response. "I mean, talk about a disaster!" Plagg crowed, "Yeesh. I'm not even sure you should tell LB; maybe take the coward's way out and tell Tikki and leave it up to her."
That caught Luka's attention and evidently Adrien's, too. "Wait, Plagg. What do you mean? I know Monarch has all the miraculouses, but we know his identity; there must be a way we can use that!" Luka agreed. Even though the odds weren't great, information was powerful, and in this case, very powerful.
"Oh yeah, I bet there are things you could do. But Adrien, he's got a whole lot of power over you, and right now, if you play this wrong, it won't matter if he knows you're Chat Noir or not, you'll be out of the game." Part of Luka hated how rational Plagg's argument was, but unfortunately, he also saw sense in it; from Adrien's silence, Luka thought Adrien also understood.
"Besides telling Tikki, doesn't there still has to be something, anything we can do?" Luka asked, still feeling a restless move to act, to find some productive use for the desperate energy pulsing through him.
"Plagg, could you—carefully—investigate the house? Like when you found the miraculous book? There have to be some secret places, otherwise, Father never could've kept this a secret. You could try and find the other kwamis, or anything that might be useful?" Adrien suggested. Luka wasn't quite sure what that meant, figuring it was something he'd missed, and filed it away to ask about later.
He chimed in, "Could you also find out if Monarch has help? Not just with running his civilian life, but allies of Monarch that Ladybug and Chat Noir should know about? I remember Mayura, she was—sorry Adrien—probably Ms. Sancoeur, but there's so much we don't know; you could start filling in the gaps?" Luka said, warming to the idea as he went; too many things didn't make sense, and there was a suspicious amount of coincidences adding up.
Plagg hmmmmd, "Potentially, I guess." His reluctance was clear, and Luka couldn't understand why Plagg seemed so resistant to acting against Monarch. "But if any of the kwamis under Monarch's control see me, I'm busted; the holder's geas means there's almost nothing they can hide from him. And, I can't exactly bring anything back through walls, and anything I could bring back will probably be missed!" Plagg's voice had risen in pitch, if not volume, during his arguments, and his voice was scraping at Luka's eardrums by the end.
"Is there anything you would feel comfortable doing besides just telling Tikki and leaving it up to her?" Adrien asked. "Come on Plagg, aren't you usually the one telling me to take action?" Luka considered that, adding it to what he already knew of Plagg and Adrien's partnership, and started to see how they complemented each other. Before he could follow the thought further, though, Plagg derailed his train of thought.
"Adrien, I'm going to be honest with you. And Luka I guess, but mostly you, Adrien, because I do usually try to be." Luka immediately braced himself for whatever Plagg was about to say. "Based on what you saw, what I felt, and how long ago Monarch took that cataclysm, your father's got less time than unbrined feta."
Luka was silent while he tried to figure out exactly how long Plagg meant. Before he could decide, Adrien spoke, his voice carefully level. "You don't want to do anything too risky because he'll be dead by the end of the school year anyway." Once again, Luka was glad the other two couldn't see his expression; this way, they couldn't see the shock and incredulity writ stark on his face before he could school his expression.
He couldn't reconcile that Adrien could discuss his own father's impending death so cooly, even if he was Monarch. Plagg sure, but not Adrien—Chat Noir or not—Luka felt sure that Adrien was only putting up an impeccable front.
"Look, it's not my favorite way of getting rid of a problem," Luka grimaced, vividly reminded that Plagg was destruction incarnate, for all that it was easy to forget. "—but all I'm saying is that we shouldn't rush to do anything. Take our time and do it right, and if your dad kicks it on the way. . .well, maybe this is Karma's way of finally helping us out."
Before Luka could protest, Adrien spoke up, a hard note in his voice. "I don't agree with doing nothing, or with procrastinating into doing nothing." Some of the tension eased out of Luka's shoulders. He trusted in Adrien's compassion overruling Plagg's pragmatism, but it was still a relief to hear. "But I don't think we're going to accomplish anything tonight except arguing." Luka seized the pause after Adrien finished, clearing his throat.
"I agree with Adrien, we need a better perspective; right now, I think maybe we're all a bit tired and. . . Processing." He barely caught himself from saying emotional, cognizant that both Adrien and Plagg were emotionally volatile right now, if in different ways. Despite the revelations of the call, the lullaby of sleep was clouding his mind, and he could feel himself growing drowsy. He didn't want to accidentally say something that would reignite the tension between Plagg and Adrien once he was gone, but Luka knew in his fatigue sooner than later, he would misspeak.
Plagg scoffed, grumbling a bit to himself, but he seemed to respect the decision Adrien and Luka had come to. "Fine, I'll leave you two to say your mushy goodbyes; there's some delightful Camembert in the fridge calling my name anyway."
The line was quiet. Luka waited, gut instinct telling him there was still something left unsaid. The silence stretched, and Luka gave himself a shake as he tried to wake up a bit. His hair fell in his eyes, but he didn't feel any more alert; fortunately, Adrien finally spoke up. "Sorry about. . . everything, I guess." Tired or not, Luka couldn't let that self-blame stand. "I know this probably isn't what you thought you'd be doing this evenin—shoot! Luka, I'm sorry! You're probably exhausted, or—
"It's fine Adrien." Luka cut in, hoping to derail more unnecessary apologies, "I might not have known what was going on before I picked up, but I could've hung up or gone to sleep anytime after." Nevermind that the mere idea of leaving a friend in such obvious distress struck an uncomfortable chord. He continued before Adrien could get a word in edgewise, "You're my friend, I want to help you, and you don't have many people who can help you with something this. . . Complicated." Luka hoped Adrien understood what the emphasis he put on 'complicated' stood for.
"I. Thank you, Luka." Luka silently winced, his own throat throbbing in sympathy with Adrien's half-choked whisper. "This means, I mean. . . You're a good friend Luka."
A warm feeling kindled in Luka's chest, and he let it suffuse his voice, "Thank you. And as your friend, I'm asking you to go to bed early and get some sleep. No matter how complicated and dark things are, you will feel better in the morning. I promise."
That elicited a rough laugh from Adrien, "I believe you, and I'll try my best; and I'll let you get some sleep too." Luka moved the phone away from his ear, thumb already in motion to end the call when he heard, "Thank you again Luka, truly—." The words cut out, his phone signaling the end of the call with a cheerful double beep. He thought about calling back for a brief moment, then dismissed the idea; he didn't know how a ringing phone—even as short a time as it would take Adrien to answer—would be received. And frankly, that'd been as good a place to end the call as they were going to reach, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open at this point.
He looked at the phone for a few more seconds, just in case it rang or a message came in, even the night mode screen irritating his tired eyes. When the phone remained silent, and the screen went dark, he set it on the nightstand with a quiet clunk.
Despite the limited movement required to slip under the covers, it seemed like it took an age. His limbs felt ponderous as he shifted positions to settle beneath the comforter. One small part of his mind wanted to analyze Plagg and Adrien's revelations, but the rest of his brain felt like it was slipping gears, and the flood of relief that accompanied comfortably laying down proved irresistible. Resolving to take his own advice, Luka released his grip on wakefulness and the last shreds of tension he'd been holding, falling asleep between one heartbeat and the next.
Ending Author's Note: The working title of this was Luka You Poor thing. Seemed appropriate. Additionally, unbrined feta is good for about two weeks. Lastly, the Hotel is actually based of the Le Grand Pakbeng in Laos, fantastic place. You can stay there midway through taking the slowboat down the Mekong river from northern Thailand to Luang Prabang in Laos.