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rosie-b · 1 year

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Delicious Delirium

The sequel to A Catching Sickness

Adrien Agreste was delirious. He had to be, because there was no way that Ladybug, savior of Paris and love of his life, was standing anxiously at his bedside, looking down at him with a concerned expression.

You can read the full fic below or on AO3 (provided it stays up!)

Pity, too, because she looked absolutely gorgeous right now, and Adrien wished he could tell her that, but if he tried to, he’d end up talking to thin air and making a fool out of himself in front of Plagg again.

Adrien took a breath in through his mouth and screwed up his face. That’s right, he remembered, I caught some sort of illness from... something. I have a fever, and that’s why I’m seeing Ladybug in my room right now.

Satisfied with this explanation, Adrien tried to remember how long it had been since he took ill. Was it one hour, or one day? He tried to think of what had happened after he came back from a late-evening patrol yesterday and decided to ask his father to let him stay at home in the morning.

Aside from the knowledge that he’d talked to his father about being sick, Adrien had a blurry memory of a doctor checking up on him, although he couldn’t figure out whether it was at the office or somewhere else. It had looked suspiciously nice for a doctor’s office, so it was probably the latter option. He might have needed a shot, because there were several bandages decorated with little Ladybugs on his arm. On both arms. Adrien wondered how that had happened. Usually, all the shots went in one arm, and he’d never gotten this many at once before.

Struggling to remember more of what had happened in between the start of his fever and when he woke up, Adrien closed his eyes, even though Hallucination-bug looked slightly disappointed by that as his lashes slowly closed, reluctant to lose the vision in front of him.

As a new memory flashed across his mind, Adrien’s brow wrinkled. His father had been sitting by his bed, if that wasn’t just another fever-fueled hallucination. He’d talked to him, too, something about Monarch and Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, Adrien thought drowsily. If this fever killed Adrien, then who would tell Ladybug what happened to her partner? Maybe I should write a will, with special instructions about my ring, Adrien thought. It should go to someone who would always do their best to keep Ladybug safe. Someone protective... Hey, my father is protective! I should give it to him. Adrien chuckled at the thought of his lady coming face-to-face with a grumpy cat-eared Gabriel Agreste, who’d explain that his foolish son had gone and contracted some peasant’s disease and then had the audacity to die from it. Her face would screw up, and—

Adrien decided that he wanted to think of something else. His conversation with his father, maybe.

Adrien didn’t remember much of it, just that they’d gotten into an argument about why Mr. Pigeon was akumatized so many times. Adrien thought that Monarch had a secret affair with the man, while his father was very firm in expressing his opinion that Monarch did not really mean to send so many akumas to Mr. Ramier. It was just that his negative emotions were so strong that no nearby akuma could resist them, and Monarch would never have akumatized Mr. Pigeon so many times if he’d known that Chat Noir was allergic to feathers before. Father seemed to think that Monarch had decided never to akumatize Mr. Ramier again!

That was silly, because then how would Monarch continue to woo his lover?

Turning onto his left side, Adrien slipped a hand under his pillow. It hit a squishy lump of cheese, and Adrien grumbled unhappily. When he woke up for real, he would have to confront Plagg. Under the pillow was not a good place for his smelly piece of camembert!

Moving his hand out from under the pillow, Adrien cracked one eye open to see how covered in goop his hand was. If the damage wasn’t too bad, he could wipe the cheese off on the bed sheets and go back to sleep, but if not, then he might have to get up and wash it off. I don’t think I can do that right now, Adrien thought dismally.

Suddenly, a red-and-black spotted hand moved into Adrien’s line of sight.

“Here, let me help you with that,” a familiar voice said. Taking a cloth from a table that had been moved beside Adrien’s bed, Ladybug carefully wiped the fever-warmed cheese off his hand, shooting a glare at Plagg, who was curled up on top of Adrien’s hair.

“I thought I told you that Adrien wouldn’t appreciate having cheese stuffed under his pillow,” she said reproachfully.

The little cat swished his tail, tickling Adrien’s neck. “And I thought I told you,” he said lazily, “That lover-boy can’t even smell right now, so he can’t complain. And camembert is the best cure-all I know. Now he’ll get better sooner! You should be thanking me.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. Adrien, who was looking up at her now with an awed look in his green eyes, moved his lips like he was asking a question. Nothing came out though, and he coughed once and tried again.

“Ladybug?” His scratchy voice managed to get all the sounds in her name right, but when his father — who was Monarch! — had still been there, he had butchered his pronunciation of ‘father.’ This must be proof that he was getting better! A bright smile lit up Ladybug’s face.

“Hi, chaton,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Adrien could only continue to stare at the angelic vision in his room. “Ladybug,” he sighed, and a beatific smile spread over his face. “Ladybug,” he repeated in a warm whisper.

Ladybug’s face was redder than Adrien’s nose. “That’s me,” she said, her voice deciding to crack midway through the sentence.

“I love you,” Adrien murmured sleepily. He grabbed her hand, which was still hovering over his, and pulled it closer to him, shifting in bed to lie on his stomach. “You’re so smart, and strong, and talented, and beautiful, and—” Adrien continued to list complimentary adjectives in an increasingly difficult-to-understand voice as his pillow muffled his words.

Overbalanced by the weak tug on her arm, Ladybug teetered near the edge of his bed. “Chaton,” she said warningly. “I don’t think now is the best time for kitty cuddles!”

“A’ways goo’ time for cuddles,” Adrien insisted into the pillow. He pulled Ladybug’s hand under his chest, to rest over his thumping heart.

Ladybug tumbled onto the bed, catching herself before she fell on top of Adrien and squished her kitty’s delicate lungs.

“Adrien,” she protested, “You have to let go; you’re going to make me sick, too, if I stay here!”

Jutting out his lower lip in a pout, Adrien reluctantly released Ladybug’s hand from its awkward position.

Sighing, Adrien rolled over again, twisting the covers and sending Plagg off of his perch for the umpteenth time.

“I knew it had to be a dream,” he sighed with as much drama as his challenged lungs could allow for.

“What?” Ladybug asked as she maneuvered herself off of the bed without falling on top of Adrien.

“You called me Adrien,” he said regretfully. His ‘M’s sounded like ‘B’s. “And in real life, you don’t know who I am. So the only reason you would be here, and call me—” he paused to take a breath. “—Call me both chaton and Adrien is that I’m dreaming. Fever dreams are weird sometimes,” he said sagely. “One time, I had a dream that the Gorilla turned into a horse, and that doesn’t even make sense because he should have been a gorilla. And this time, I’ve been dreaming of you and Dad. Only in my dream, he found out that I was Chat Noir, because I was still transformed when I asked if I could stay home from school.” Adrien let out a breathless laugh at the idea that this could ever happen.

Ladybug’s lips stretched into a too-thin smile, and she laughed nervously in turn. “Eh-heh. Yep, that definitely did not happen, nope, no way!”

Launching into a flurry of action, Ladybug pulled the twisted covers out from under Adrien’s stomach and fixed them, tucking him in securely. Then she reached under his pillow, plucked out the wedge of camembert even when Plagg hissed at her, threw it out, and wiped her hands off on her suit. Making a face, she grabbed the wet cloth again and scrubbed furiously at the goo staining her red suit white.

“At least detransforming will take it out,” she muttered.

Adrien stared at her with bleary eyes. Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head, pulling the covers out of place and shivering as the cold hit his bare arms.

“You’re so pretty when you’re in control,” Adrien murmured sleepily.

Ladybug choked and tripped over the table legs, flailing her arms wildly as she tried to catch herself and the bowl of warm water that was already splashing onto the box of tissues.

“Hurk,” she said as she locked her eyes with Adrien’s.

“Like when you figure out a Lucky Charm,” Adrien continued after another long, deep breath. “Or when you’re taking care of someone. I like it best when it’s me,” he admitted with a sideways grin.

Ladybug tried not to swallow her own tongue. “Urgh,” she replied intelligently.

Adrien only smiled. “So pretty,” he murmured happily.

Turning onto his side, Adrien frowned. “I can’t get comfy,” he complained to Hallucination-bug. “I’m too hot and too cold. You’re just too hot.” He giggled when Hallucibug flushed redder than her suit.

Ladybug stood up, slamming the bowl of water down on the table and not caring when it spilled. “That’s it!” she whisper-yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t care if you’re lucid enough to carry on a conversation, what you need right now is more sleep! I’ll just have to tell Mon— your father that you’re still sick, and make some get-well soup to make your fever finally break!

“Look,” she said in clear exhaustion, “When you wake up, I’ll still be here. Hopefully. And if not, then I’ll come visit you again as soon as I can! There is a very important conversation that we need to have, but we can’t have it until you realize that you’re not dreaming. So for now, what I need you to do for me, mon pauvre chaton, is rest and drink lots of fluids and not get any sicker! Okay?”

Ladybug’s question was answered with a snore.

Startled, she blinked. At some point during her speech, Adrien had rolled over again and closed his eyes, holding his hands close to the warmth of his chest. From his perch on top of Adrien’s left ear, Plagg smiled a toothy smile at Ladybug.

“Shh,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to wake my kitten up.”

Ladybug’s heart melted as she looked down at her sleepy partner.

“I won’t,” she said, lightly brushing a stray lock of golden hair out of Adrien’s eyes.

Bending down over the bed, Ladybug pressed a kiss to Adrien’s still-warm forehead, and scratched behind Plagg’s ears as she backed away slowly.

“My poor kitty,” she whispered sadly. “Sleep as long as you need to, and have sweet dreams! When you wake up, the world will make even less sense, I’m afraid.”

As her bugphone buzzed against her hip, Ladybug turned to leave the room and picked up the call from the police department.

“Hello, Chief,” she said. There was a pause, and then: “That’s right, sir. Monarch has surrendered.”

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rosie-b · 2 years

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A Catching Sickness

Gabriel Agreste thinks he is dreaming when Chat Noir walks into his office and calls him father. But what if the hero turns out to be quite real—and sick?

This story just popped in my head today and demanded to be written out. You can read it here on AO3 or below the cut!

Gabriel was working in his office when it happened. He had been shuffling through some legal papers, hoping to catch up on his work after putting it aside for weeks to be Monarch. He’d just decided to take a quick break and have Nathalie bring him some coffee when Chat Noir walked into his office.

Although he was stunned, Gabriel had no reason to think that the city’s hero was here to take back the Miraculous, so he smoothed down his shirt, folded his hands on the table in front of him, and showed no surprise or fear as he asked in a monotone voice, “What are you doing here?”

Chat Noir didn’t act surprised by the man’s actions, though his ears flattened, and his tail twitched to the side, hanging low on the floor. “Father, I- I came to ask you a question, if I may,” the boy said, hugging himself and rubbing his left arm as he avoided Gabriel’s eyes.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he had fallen asleep at his desk and was now having a nightmare about the teenagers he fought nearly every day. It had happened before, though this particular dream felt unnervingly real despite its laughable premise.

“You may ask,” he replied graciously.

Chat Noir took a deep breath. “Nathalie said she told you that I took ill, and I know you canceled fencing practice for me tomorrow—and I’m grateful, really—but I’m getting worse, not better.” The black cat spoke in a hesitant, stuffy voice, and his mannerisms reminded Gabriel of Adrien’s when he had gotten the flu some years past. Still, Gabriel continued to let the dream play out, rather than analyze the similarities his subconscious drew between his own son and his enemy.

“So I was hoping you’d let me stay home from school,” Chat Noir continued when it was clear that Gabriel would not say anything. “And I already asked Nathalie to call a doctor so I can get tested for the flu, but even if this turns out to be a cold, I- I need a break,” Adrien Chat Noir’s voice broke, and his eyes looked red.

“A break,” repeated Gabriel disbelievingly. He was already giving the heroes a break from fights for now; until his paperwork was done he had no other choice. Did this dream, then, speak to Adrien’s need for a break? But he was already freed from modeling, and though it was true that the boy was ill, all he needed was one restful afternoon to recover and he’d be back to normal.

Chat Noir hugged himself tighter, his eyes wide and pleading as he looked at Gabriel. “I can’t spread this to the other kids, and—” He was cut off by a bout of coughing, bent over and hacking miserably into his elbow. He has good hygiene , Gabriel noted. He shook his head to clear it.

“I can see that you are quite ill,” he said, reaching for his pen to sign a paper that was almost completed, “but really I can’t tell why you— oh, for heaven’s sake,” he said as the hero’s cough turned into a pair of painful-looking sneezes. Chat Noir sagged against the wooden door, his face flushed and his mouth open to catch a breath. Frowning, Gabriel reached down and opened a drawer in his desk. Pulling out a tissue, he held it out to Chat Noir, who stepped forward with a pitiful attempt at a smile.

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out to take the tissue with his right hand. Gabriel looked at the black and green ring within his grasp and tried to control himself. It’s just a dream , he thought. It’s just a dream.

As Chat Noir’s fingers brushed the edge of the tissue, the boy suddenly froze. Trembling, he, too, stared at the ring he wore, and his breath shuddered through his lips.

“Dad,” he said slowly, “please tell me this is just a fever dream. Please.” It sounded more like “blease” to Gabriel, but he wasn’t going to laugh at a sick man.

“I would, but I’m afraid this is my dream we are inhabiting,” he said drily. Then he shoved the tissue into Chat Noir’s hand.

When the hero still didn’t move, Gabriel frowned. Looking up, he noticed that Chat Noir had gone very pale, except for his still red and drippy nose. Gabriel suddenly straightened in his desk chair. “It isn’t?” he asked, and somehow the question made perfect sense, and was its own answer. He inhaled sharply, and his eyes returned to the black ring.

“My own son is Chat Noir,” Gabriel whispered, and it sounded like a curse as he glared at the Miraculous on Adrien’s trembling hand.

All of a sudden, Chat Noir’s hand dropped, and he fell backwards, shoulders and head hitting the door. Gabriel sprang up from the desk, rushing to the hero’s side. “Adrien,” he called, shaking his shoulder. The boy didn’t stir. “Adrien,” Gabriel hissed, and the boy groaned in response, coughing weakly. A strand of blond hair fell in his eyes as they fluttered open, and Gabriel flinched back in shock.

Adrien really did resemble his mother.

“Dad?” Chat Noir asked hoarsely. He coughed again, head shaking and hitting the door with the force of it. He winced, but his eyes stayed focused on Gabriel.

“Son,” Gabriel said. “You need to detransform. I’m going to call your bodyguard and have him help me. We’re carrying you up to your room, and you are not going to leave this house until you are fully recovered. The doctor will just have to come to us. Now, do I need to take off your ring, or are you going to cooperate?”

Bleary-eyed and half-asleep, Adrien murmured, “Claws in.” His transformation fell, leaving a pale little boy wearing Gabriel-brand pajamas, with a tiny black cat perched on his head and glaring at Gabriel.

Gabriel swallowed. “Good,” he said. “Do you think you can move a little? You’re blocking the door.”

__*__*__*__*__

A little over two hours later, there was a stack of unfinished paperwork on Gabriel’s desk, a sheet of information about the common flu in his hand, and a loudly snoring hero in Adrien’s bed. Because Adrien was a hero, at least to the city. Gabriel would have to get used to that.

He hadn’t taken the ring yet. He wasn’t sure if he was going to, anymore—wasn’t sure if he could. But he knew now that taking it while his son was so weak would be a kind of betrayal to his son, and by extension, to Emilie. Adrien was all he had left of his wife, and even though Gabriel still hoped to make the Wish, he was willing to change tactics in getting the Miraculous.

After all, Gabriel truly cared about his son, even if it seemed he knew him less than he'd thought.

Placing his hand on Adrien's still-warm forehead, Gabriel allowed himself to relax just a little as the boy let out a sigh and snuggled into his father's gentle touch. Gabriel smiled down at his son, who still had such a bright future ahead of him. Things might feel a bit muddled at the moment, but Gabriel had faith that everything was going to be okay. The Agrestes would pull through this.

Feeling an itch in his nose, Gabriel turned away from his son to sneeze, and slowly turned back around to look at Adrien and the grinning kwami on his pillow.

Things would get better... but they might get worse first. After all, the flu is a catching sickness.

#gabriel agreste #adrien agreste #ml identity reveal #sick adrien agreste #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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