Chapter Text
Adrien isn’t sure what he’s doing, which is… uncomfortably on brand for him.
The cabin is small, out of sight, bathed in a crimson light that chills him to the bone; Felix is there too, looking supremely proud of himself, and also very purple. Which answers some of his questions, only to raise even more.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Adrien hisses, uneasy as he closes the door. “I’m mad at you. Everyone is mad at you.”
Truth be told, he isn’t quite sure how he feels about his cousin right now: it’s probably not how he should feel, or else this conversation wouldn’t be happening at all.
“I know, I know. You’re on the side of the heroes, as always.” Felix, or whatever name he goes by these days, rolls his eyes — magenta, not green. “Don’t worry, you’ll be cured after tonight.”
“Tonight…?” Adrien frowns, anticipating the next trick. “Why? What happens tonight?”
“I wanted to keep it a surprise, but I was far too excited! I simply needed you two to meet!”
“Meet who? What are you going on about —”
And that’s when they see it at last.
It’s silly, they know, but up until then they thought Felix was the ominous star; that it was Felix who bled the crimson light, the one that tastes of winter and sleep. There is something else, though: another sun, hovering above the indigo fabric, tiny enough to drown in its own light.
“What,” Adrien breathes, the question sharp on his tongue, “is that?”
“Watch your language.”
Their hands are clammy, the air sticky, and that dreadful wooden box feels a little too much like a coffin.
“She,” Felix corrects, protectively, “is Red Moon. A name she picked for herself, might I add.”
“Is she —”
“I made her. She’s my friend.” He pauses there, considering. “Our little sister, Adrien.”
Felix has gone completely mad.
There is fondness on his tongue, though, and a protectiveness Adrien knows all too well: his heart clenches when his cousin tickles the orb of doom, constricts with every affectionate flicker of its light. Red Moon is alive, and happy, and loved.
“Isn’t she a wonder?” She probably is, if one likes pentagrams and black holes and whatever roams the depths of the ocean. “We’re going to do great things together. You’ll see what I mean at the dance.”
“The dance?” With every word, they understand less and less. “Felix — don’t tell me you stole the Peacock Miraculous just so you could craft your very own spotlight?”
“Of course not. That would be unwise.”
“Care to elaborate, then?”
“It’s for you, idiot. I did it all for you.”
Adrien is horrified, of course. And yet…
And yet, something relaxes in his chest.
“Your father.” Lately, it’s been Felix’s obsession: pestering Father, stealing rings, gnawing on leashes. “I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine. See how he likes that.”
Father is trying though, and isn’t that what matters? A leash is looser than a chain — comfortable enough to sleep in.
“Felix.” They shake their head, shake the thought away. “Please, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Nothing I do is ever stupid.” The youngest frowns; a ruby beam washes the frustration away. “Look at her. Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?”
He says it with such certainty, such adoration. And Adrien has always wanted to understand their cousin.
“Can I…” They’re going to regret this. They’re going to regret this so much. “… Can I hold her?”
Felix grins, and finally looks like himself.
***
The next thing they know, they’re bolting through the coarse warm sand — a very angry peacock on their heels.
“ADRIEN!!!!!” Felix hasn’t yelled at them since… actually, they can't seem to remember. “Come back here!!! Give her back!!!”
There is something primal in his voice, the cry of a wounded animal; Red Moon answers, a diffuse pulse in their front pocket.
Red Moon is in their front pocket.
They just stole a Sentimonster.
Adrien has no idea how to get out of that one: the crowd splits around them, terrified of the storm that follows, and they can’t possibly transform in plain sight. Argos doesn’t tire, snaking closer with every beat, breathing hungrily, breathing behind their back, breathing down their neck —
They always thought their shoes were cool, a rare hint of colour and risk in their branded cocoon; but today resolutely sucks , and they trip over their own laces. Red Moon rolls out of their shirt, barely noticeable in the burning sand: they catch it reflexively, suffocating its glow.
Felix is on them in seconds, pinning them in place.
“I trusted you,” he spits, with that same broken tremolo. “I can’t believe you would take her from me!”
“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Adrien squirms, and his indignation feels a lot like a rush of magic. “Like you haven’t spent your entire life stealing from me!”
“Don’t talk about her like that! She is a person!”
The enchanted fan unfolds, a blade of cobalt slicing through the evening. Felix would never hurt his cousin; they aren’t so sure about Argos.
For better or worse, they don’t get to find out: a familiar yoyo knocks the weapon clean off, whirring back with a hiss.
“You.” The word is uttered with such hatred, such a thirst for retribution, that for a second they don’t believe it came out of Ladybug’s lips. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to kick your butt.”
Felix looks terrified.
He’s on his feet before they are, always quick to recover, yet he doesn’t reach for the fan: instead, he raises his hand, fingers meeting below the smooth leather.
But he’s trembling, like a leaf in the wind, and doesn’t pull his trick off.
“I’ll come back for you.” His eyes are strange, feverish, and for the first time they look straight through Adrien. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”
He darts off, leaping on the promenade, and Ladybug readies her weapon once more; she glances back at the last moment, and there’s a hint of guilt in all this blue.
“Hey. Are you OK?”
They nod, hands woven around their secret. They should tell her about it — they will tell her about it, as soon as they find the words.
Any moment now.
“Good.” Ladybug’s yoyo wraps around a streetlamp, yanking her forward. “Get home safely!!! Love you!!!”
Home isn’t safe, but Adrien goes back anyway.
***
The dance is cancelled, which is just as well: he hated the prospect of going without Mari, almost as much as he dreaded Kagami’s quiet despair.
That, and he has an entire Sentimonster to conceal. Which is probably something he should address sooner rather than later.
Adrien leans against his bedroom door, scanning for the familiar ringing of heels and the brand new whisper of prosthetics; no one comes, so he opens his jacket.
“Hey kid, quick question: what the heck was that???” Plagg bursts out before she does, a tiny ball of concentrated darkness. “I never agreed to this weird roommate situation. What’s the game plan here?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t have time to think.”
“Well yeah, I can see that.” Ordinarily, the Kwami would dart to his camembert stash right away: instead, he floats right up to their nose, paws crossed and ears flattened. “You don’t have her amok. You don’t have the brooch. How are you going to keep her in check? You don’t even know what she does!”
“Maybe it’s something innocent,” Adrien tries, head sinking between their shoulders. “Maybe she just… glows…?”
“Oh, please!!! The Cheese Murderer made her. Of course she can’t just glow!!!”
In response, Red Moon glows harder — a luminous stain on Adrien’s chest. Reaching into his front pocket, he endures the full weight of his choice.
Which, actually, doesn’t weigh anything at all. Add it to the list of concerning facts.
“OK,” he says — to who exactly, he isn’t sure. “OK. I’m sure this is a stressful situation for everyone involved, but we’ve got to make it work.”
“Just tell Ladybug, kid. She’ll find the amok and purify it.”
It’s the logical thing to do. The only thing to do.
But Adrien walks to his desk, and locks Red Moon in the drawer instead.