Home For Christmas - ML Secret Santa
Gosh, I hope my recipient hasn’t thought they were left out. Today is my posting day and guess what? @nyxavalon! Iiii am your Secret Santa! And I’ve whipped up a story for you! Hope you enjoy~
Rating: G Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort Pairing(s): None (sort of) Summary: Christmas has come once again... after the battle between Miraculous has ended. (Identities Revealed) Warning: There are some Season Two spoilers so proceed at your own risk.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay, Chlò.”
He remembers it was just a few years ago…
“I’m sure you could still fly out here and join us.”
How lively the manor could be with him, his mother and father, and the staff.
“No, it’s really okay! It’s not just going to be me, I promise.”
When his mother disappeared, his father still got a tree, but he didn’t join in on the decorating like before.
“If you say so. Ugh, looks like I have to go. Daddy wanted to try scuba diving… I’ll make sure to send you a photo.”
And now…
“Haha, I’ll be looking forward to it. Talk to you later, Chlò.”
Adrien hung up after her hurried ‘Later!’ and lowered his cell phone.
The Manor was dark and cold and empty. He had sent the staff home to spend their Christmas with their families, it was only fair. His right ring finger, once commonly adoring a silver ring, was bare. His time – no, their time being heroes had come to an end and Miraculous had gone with it.
Hawkmoth was…
His father was…
… The point was he’d never have to see that man again. After everything, after the intentional manipulation and neglect, it would be much too soon. It was their victory, but maybe it could have waited.
Nothing but his footsteps echoed as he walked up the stairs and down the hall, pristine white walls bathed in twilight’s fallen night and the fainter, colorful hues from twinkling fairy lights decorating other abodes near. It would be about this time a certain little black cat god would whine for Camembert or suggest they go out, but there was nothing. Subconsciously, he rubbed his finger and the smooth skin left pale by the ring he wore for years.
Nothing…
In his bedroom, he stood before the window panels and stared outside. It was really beautiful, seeing the quiet snowfall with the few stars that managed to shine through Paris’s light pollution. He could look beyond the gate and see beyond his walls a warm and still awake city that exemplified all the brightness and love it was known for. It was not a city he could join from his own prison, as self-imposed as it was.
He should have known.
How could he have not known his father was the villain?
Considering how frequent he had been absent and probably just waiting to akumatize someone. All those times when there wouldn’t be a show for months, there really was no excuse… and at some point, he had figured out he was Chat Noir. That man had known and still fought them – fought him, tempted him to join his side – to bring his mother back. His mother whom he’d lied about being missing because missing implied being able to be found alive or dead. She was gone and never coming back, and honestly, that was something he had excepted where his father had refused.
But that was the power of love, wasn’t it?
It could drive even the sanest man insane and become an obsession, couldn’t it? It was frightening… how much it made his – made Gabriel not care anymore.
Eyes falling, Adrien breathed slowly.
In and out, hoping it would lessen the aching, but the winking lights and faintest lull of Christmas music soon overpowered by the Notre Dame’s bells. He counted the echoing chimes and felt his heart sink further and further, the cold sweeping over his shoulders like a cowl he couldn’t remove. It latched onto his neck and covered his head, squeezing itself over his shoulders to fasten around his body. He wanted it off, but he also understood he deserved it.
“… Merry Christmas,” he whispered, wanting to say ‘Claws out!’ and dash along the rooftops again. No one would be looking for him – no one would pretend to be concerned about his whereabouts. The city could forgive him for the sins of his father, but people did not. Forehead pressing against the glass, he bit his lip.
He wanted to be forgotten and for everything to be over; he didn’t want to be alone and he couldn’t take it anymore.
Eyes snapping open at the jarring ring of the Manor’s doorbell, Adrien stepped away from the glass and half-turned to his bedroom door, one eyebrow raised. Blinking, he didn’t proceed to answering the call until the second, the third, and finally, the fourth ring forced him to walk back. Whoever came calling tonight was persistent, but it was also Christmas. He could see what they wanted and perhaps give them what they want; and if it was him, that was fine.
The intercom connected to the doorbell was in Gabriel’s old office, the room stripped bare of possessions he refused to keep and gladly gave to the police as evidence. Any actual designer work on the computer had been returned to him via chip which he hadn’t bothered keeping either. Marinette might’ve been sore at his father’s actions, but his designs were still begrudgingly admirable. Approaching the lone intercom still affixed to the barren desk, Adrien tapped the button to turn it on and answer.
“Hello…?”
Hopefully, he managed to keep his tone curious.
“Adrien Ascil Agreste! You better open this door right now! It’s freezing!”
“… Alya?”
“Ugh, I can’t feel my arms. Dude, open the door…”
“Wait, what? Nino, what are you both--?”
“Adrien, you forgot to actually lock the gate.”
“Marinette? U-Uh, gimme a sec…!”
Bewildered at why they were on his doorstep, he literally jogged from the office and to the front door, pulling it open. He quickly moved aside as the three charged inside followed by others: their parents and siblings, friends from school and their families, and then other friends from around Paris. He winced as the lights were turned on, the previous silence concussed by voices, crinkling paper, and bells. Cold fled from the heat spreading into the corners and the numb scent with it as various smells of pine, roast, and sweets filled the foyer.
Adrien’s head snapped around, wide eyes still trying to process what was occurring until a hand gently pressed against his shoulder… followed by a clap to his back and another shoulder bumping his unoccupied one. Marinette, Nino, and Alya stood around him, watching the Manor become besieged by festivities. A tree was being erected in the corner by the Gorilla and Tom, Manon, Etta, and Ella eagerly standing aside to help decorate with Rose, Ali, and Juleka. Sabine and Marlena walked with Wang, Fred, and Nadja towards the dining room with plates of food, Mylène and Ivan assisting. Nino’s cousin Chris, their teacher Caline Bustier, and even Jagged Stone and Penny, and he still didn’t understand.
“What’s…?”
“It’s Christmas, of course,” Alya said, her lip quirked and eyebrow raised. “What did you think we were going to do? Not be here?”
“… Yes?” Adrien meekly answered, almost flinching at the looks all three of them gave him next. “I mean, if anything, you would’ve spent Christmas at home with your families while I just… I don’t know. Why should I celebrate when my father terrorized Paris? I let him get away with--”
“Dude, that was your dad,” Nino cut him off, his brows furrowed. “And no one blames you for his actions. Perfect poster boy Adrien? No one could see you cooperating with him.”
“Well, that…” Marinette started before leaning a little closer. “And Ladybug may have put in a word that she was positive on her Miraculous that Adrien wasn’t involved with any of Hawkmoth’s actions.”
“You did?”
He stumbled as the small young woman bumped him, making him stagger into Nino. Eyes wide, he watched hers roll. “Of course. I mean, I couldn’t tell people that Adrien was my partner fighting against Hawkmoth, but I think it’s enough that the superheroine that’s been protecting Paris for a while has an idea on who’s really involved.”
“There are some skeptics,” Alya chimed in, shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh. “Ladybug has a crush on Adrien, Ladybug letting him off because he’s handsome, stupid nonsense like that…”
“This city doesn’t know their superheroes as well as they think,” Nino scoffed. “If they knew what Ladybug had thought about her partner on the first day of school…”
“N-Nino…!”
Adrien heard them laughing, but he still didn’t understand. He didn’t deserve any of this. He didn’t deserve any of them.
“Adrien…?”
He blinked, noticing that the three were standing before him and the activities around them had settled down. They weren’t alone in the room, but everyone else was now talking quietly amongst themselves. Marinette, Alya, and Nino seemed to be watching him and he wondered if he was supposed to say something. However, Marinette started before he could decide.
“We know you probably blame yourself for all this – for not being able to see that it was your father, but you know we understand,” she spoke softly, pulling a small box out of her pocket. It looked familiar. “Parents aren’t supposed to be the bad guys after all, even if they want to do everything they can for their children. You’ve sacrificed more than any of us to bring peace back to Paris, so much that it meant being alone for Christmas when you don’t deserve that.”
“Yeah, man. It’s not fair that you get the raw end of the deal,” Nino added and Alya had a coy grin on her face.
“Which is why we… may have spoken to someone before today about, I don’t know, maybe patrolling for one more evening or for the next few years,” she hummed, but Adrien wasn’t even looking at her as she spoke because his eyes were glued to the box Marinette was holding. Its dark mahogany and the familiar intricate Chinese painted detail sealed within lacquer finish on top shined even in the dim light, and he felt his eyes sting as the box opened to reveal the ring resting within the red velvet interior. His eyes rising, he noticed Marinette’s earrings, Nino’s bracelet, and watched Alya draw out her necklace from her shirt collar. Blue, green, and violet eyes of three small kwami appeared as each watched from their hiding places: Marinette’s collar, Nino’s headphones, and Alya’s pocket.
Adrien looked at the ring again, the green paw inviting him, calling to him to pick it up… and he only squinted at the green light that shone as the ring turned silver.
Stretching up with a mighty yawn, Plagg’s whiskers twitched before he opened his eyes.
“That was a nice nap. Hey kid, got any Camembert? You know I’m not transforming you until you gimme some.”
Merry Christmas~!
