Actions

Work Header

we'll fall just like stars being hung by only string

Summary:

"We'll fall just like stars being hung by only string
Everything, everything, here is gone
No map can direct how to ever make it home
We're alone, we're alone, we're alone"

 

or Adrien is thinking about his life couple of years after he and Ladybug had defeated Hawkmoth. Ghost!AU.

Notes:

Hi there! I wanted to write something for Halloween, so I thought "ghost stories, yay!". And then this happened. I don't even know, I thought I'll write something spooky, but adorable and... well. Here we go, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. Also, English isn't my first language and even though I tried to fix any mistakes, there's a possibility you may find some. If you do, please, let me know.

Title borrowed from "I Don't Feel It Anymore (Song of the Sparrow)" by William Fitzsimmons. This song is literally perfect for this fic and I recommend listening to it while reading it (you can find it here and it's really beautiful)

Happy Halloween, everyone!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

Nights were a lot longer now, when he didn’t have anything to do. He couldn’t sleep very well so he mostly sat at the balcony with a cup of coffee. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but why should he care now?

 

It’s not like it matters anyway.

 

(He missed times when he had been sitting for hours on Parisian rooftops, listening to whatever song street musicians were playing. Sometimes he had wished he could join them and just carelessly enjoy music. Enjoy playing because he could, because it was something he really liked to do. But that wasn't something that was ever going to happen. Not in this life.)

 

“Hi there, kitty.” He heard her voice from behind, but he didn’t move a muscle, stubbornly watching sleeping city in front of him. It was a warm night and it was quiet, so quiet, it made him a little uncomfortable. Old habits die hard, as they say. “Can’t sleep again?”

 

“Mmm. Don’t worry about me, though. I’ll be in bed soon.” He answered, still not looking at her. He knew she was standing in her pyjamas with her hair slightly unkempt. What a beautiful sight it was. And only for his eyes.

 

“Somehow I doubt that. I heard coffee machine running, you won’t hide from me.”

 

He laughed. She was right - there was no point in hiding, she always managed to find him, even if he didn’t want to be found. And boy, he tried to run away, he really tried. It was pointless so he gave up, along with many things in his life. 

 

His name, his money, his family, his friends.

 

Sometimes he thought that he gave up his soul either.

 

(Sometimes he was wondering if he had soul from the beginning. Maybe his father had sold more than he was aware of, only to gain some power. Maybe he had sold his son's soul and future and because he was clinging to the past so hard, he was blinded. And now he was afraid that apple does not fall far from the tree and he'll be stuck in his past just as much as his father was. He suspected he already did it.)

 

“I know you will, bugaboo. I wouldn’t expect any less of you.”

 

He knew she was smiling now. She has the loveliest smile he had ever seen. He once thought that it could cure all that was bad in his life. It couldn’t. But he wasn’t mad, no. A little disappointed, maybe, but only in himself. For being naive and stupidly in love. He knew better now, he was past being a foolhardy boy, so even if the last part hadn’t changed, the naive part slowly transformed into bone deep tiredness. He was so tired and he couldn’t sleep. 

 

Sometimes he was missing human heat, that’s all. 

 

“I tried knitting once, did you know that? I’ve always laughed at you, because it makes you look like an old lady. So I thought that it couldn’t be that hard, right? And I’m pretty good with sharp things. It turned out I’m more capable of falling asleep during that than making a decent scarf.”

 

“You tried to make me a scarf? That’s sweet, chaton.” 

 

“Yeah, more or less. I actually lost the first scarf you made me and… you know… I feel stupid for trying to replace it, but I wanted to have a piece of you with me again.” 

 

She didn’t have an answer for that. 

 

(She didn't have an answer for many things, especially the ones he screamed at her. He couldn't blame her, it's not something she was supposed to be doing, answering his pleas and heavy tears. She was with him and that's more than he deserved.)

 

“I don’t know how to replace all I’ve lost. And I don’t think I can, bugaboo.”

 

She sighed, deeply. He felt like a silly little cat he was almost a lifetime ago. He wished he could turn back time and fix everything that went wrong, but it wasn’t something he could do, not now, and not ever again. It was the worst defeat he had ever faced. The one that destroyed him completely and left him broken. Half dead from despair, a shadow living in human shell.

 

“It’s not about replacing things, kitty. It’s about making room for new ones.”

 

Ha, what an irony. She was basically telling him to move on while all he was doing for the last three years was running constantly. Changing places, changing cities, changing names. But she was right, he hadn’t moved on, not yet. 

 

He didn’t know if he was able to do that. 

 

Ever since their last battle together, the day when his heart was the fullest and then broken forever, he wasn’t himself anymore. He was someone new and he didn’t even try to unpack who this person is. 

 

(Screams and other awful things couldn't leave his head for months. Blood on his face was shocking enough without realising whose that blood was. And then he realised he's living his worst nightmare. His father made the best akuma so far - the one that was irreversible, because all what happened was real.)

 

He left heavy ring behind, packed the most important things and run.  

 

He knew he was a coward, but he couldn’t stand the trials and the funerals. Especially funerals, because he knew he would fall apart in mere seconds and then joined buried bodies in a matter of days, maybe a month. Paradoxically, running away gave him some sense of purpose. A weak one, yes, but he had something to hold on and live.  

 

“You just need to try, chaton. Find your heart again.”

 

“My heart was cataclysmed when I was Chat Noir that one last time, Mari. My heart will be with yours forever. Just like I promised.”

 

The sun was slowly rising. The city was waking up, breathing in freedom and wonderful feeling of simply being alive and having another day to drink, to love, to live. To have something he wouldn't have anymore. It was time for him to go. He stood up and went straight through her.

 

Ladybug is dead. Long live Ladybug. 



 

Notes:

I just wanted to add that I know that there's a miraculous which allows to travel in time, but sometimes you make mistakes you just can't undo. And sometimes writers just like to see their favourites in pain.

Thanks for reading!