It was hard seeing your parents always sad. Not once after Julian's death did they ever seem to be truly ok, they were fooling themselves into thinking they'd moved on, living in a beautiful dream.
Almost every day, it felt like something was missing, something was hollow.
Julian had made them happy. You could see that, from the rare videos they'd shot with him, wherever they went on holiday. In two of them, you had been there, usually in a pram, blurred away into the background.
If you could really bring Julian back, would it fix them? Would it make everything stop feeling like there was a huge aching tension in the air?
Yes, you thought it would. It would make your parents happy, and that's all you'd ever want.
That was why your hands shakily slipped Ladybug’s earrings off, and her outfit faded away, to reveal a still unconscious Marinette. A delighted cry escaped your mother, and she held her hand out, beckoning you to give them to her; you did so without much resistance.
“Oh, I knew you’d come around!” your father exclaimed, “That’s my (Y/n)!”
Adrien became silent, realising what those words meant — “(Y/n)?” he whispered weakly, “Don’t tell me… you…”
The polka picked up, its notes unsettlingly picked, switching from major to minor. Was it in your head, or outside? You couldn’t tell.
You couldn’t find the strength to respond, sitting there blankly, and silently wondering what the fuck you’d just done. Gleefully, your mother skipped off towards your father, and he gave her the ring; she put on both of the miraculouses, and then gasped, when a series of black and red sparks came off her, swirling around your mum, and speeding off into the sky like tiny fireworks.
Light burst into the sky, crackling upwards like inverted streaks of lightning, and a large hole appeared in the ground, revealing a dark black pit across from you, leading to God knew where.
Your dad laughed at the display, and your mother jumped around excitedly like a child — you just sat there, lost in thought, stuck in the ruined landscape of your mind.
You’d done this for them.
Right?
They’d be happy now, right? — right?
You gazed up at the fuzzy sky, the purple was mellow and calm, allowing you to sort through the beehive of muses stuck in your head. Returning your view to your parents, you could see your mother listening intensely, before she turned to your father. “It’s telling me I can make a wish!” she exclaimed.
“Great, great! Wish for Julian to come back, then!” your dad demanded, practically shaking in anticipation.
They looked so happy.
“Wait!” your mum paused, and glanced at your father; “It’s telling me that… we need to pay a price. Another person, in place of Julian.”
Oh. That was the catch.
Your parents exchanged a look, and for one singular moment, you thought that they might tell you to be their sacrifice; but what they said was far more terrifying; “(Y/n), bring that boy here,” your father instructed, pointing his cane at you menacingly.
“Yes, (Y/n),” your mother whispered, tilting her head at you, her eyes painfully wide, like an owl. “You want your brother back, don’t you?”
They didn’t look like your parents anymore.
For the first time, you looked down, across from you, to Adrien, where he lay, tears leaking out from his blindfold. You quietly stood up, and brought Marinette up with you, and laid her a safe distance away from everyone, before walking over to Adrien.
Then, you gestured to your father to release his hold from him, and as soon as he did, the boy looked at where he thought you were, shocked and betrayed by your previous actions — and he had every single right to be.
You carefully lifted his blindfold, and then dropped your hands, and placed them in your lap, kneeling down next to him; you shared a moment of silence, and you could only look at him, undeniably guilt filled. This was your fault, everything was your fault, how the hell could you fix it?
You just wanted — wanted everyone to be happy! You were trying so hard to make that a reality!
Why wouldn’t that Varsouviana go away? That frighteningly swift tune was getting so annoying.
What would make them happy? What could you do?
Make them happy, make them happy, make them happy—
Crack! — your mind broke — the polka reached its hysterical peak.
It shattered, into a million pieces, with a cacophony of voices that echoed throughout your head; something you'd carefully taped together, was completely undone, as it tried to keep itself from falling apart.
Metaphorical glass, all over the imaginary floor, each showcasing every time you saw someone you cared about happy. You wanted them to stay like that forever, you'd take every negative emotion they held, and stockpile it in yourself, even if it meant torment wreaking havoc in your skull.
You didn't care if it hurt. You wanted them to be happy.
That was all that mattered now.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, after a pause. “But, I’m going to fix everything now. I’m going to make everyone happy.”
“Wh… what do you mean by that?” Adrien questioned, struggling to come to his feet, still winded.
You smiled eerily, and Adrien could tell that something was wrong — very wrong. “I’m going to make everyone happy,” you muttered, standing up. “Mum, Dad,” you addressed your parents, “promise to give the Miraculous back to them after this is done, ok?”
“Huh?” your father frowned in confusion.
“What do you mean? We’re using the boy, remember, (Y/n)?” your mother asked, gesturing to the pit.
Make them happy.
You shook your head, and laughed, “The boy’s staying right here, Mum.”
Then, you slowly stumbled over to them both, and your parents stiffened; “(Y/n), what are you doing?” your dad stuttered, as he watched you become more unbalanced with every step you took.
“You want him back, you want Julian back, don’t you?” you asked weakly, tripping over your own feet, “If you get him back, you’ll be happy, right? You’ll be happy?”
“(Y-Y/n)? This isn’t funny! Stop this!” your mum cried out, and your father raised his cane threateningly.
“Don’t take a single step forward! Bring that boy here!” your dad shouted, his hands shaking.
Make them happy.
A broken laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him, with a watery grin, already sobbing helplessly; you took a hold of his stick, and pushed it down, so it was no longer blocking his pathway. “I’m going to make you happy, Mum, Dad,” you giggled deliriously, “this is all you’ve ever wanted, isn’t it? I’m going to make you happy, that’s all I want.”
“No! (Y/n), no!” Adrien yelled out, attempting to reach you, stretching out an arm towards you.
“I’m going to make everyone happy, Adrien!” you shouted, flinging your arms wide, your grin so wide it burned your face, still letting tears drift down your cheeks, “That’s all I ever wanted! I want people to be happy! I want you to be happy!”
“No!” Adrien and your parents screamed in unison, as you took the last step backwards, and tumbled into the portal.
Make them happy.
The polka continued, getting faster, and faster, and faster—
“That’s all I ever wanted to do,” you whispered, “so be happy for me.”
Then you disappeared, into the amassing black of the gateway, falling into space and time, past flying colours, into the vast unknown, falling down the rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland.
Were they happy now? Was everyone happy now?
Was Marinette happy she would have her Miraculous back?
Was John happy he wouldn’t have to hear your awful British accent anymore?
Was Juleka happy she wouldn’t have to sit next to you in class anymore?
Was Chloé happy, now she wouldn’t have to deal with your ‘annoying’ presence?
Was Lucinda happy that she wouldn’t have to make time to have coffee with you every Saturday morning?
Was Adrien happy he wouldn’t have to pretend he liked you anymore?
Were your parents happy they’d finally gotten their beloved son back?
You hoped they were happy. If they were happy, then you could rest easy.
All of a sudden, a barely distinguishable figure appeared in the wobbly darkness in front of you, and you squinted up, to try to see who it was; when the outline promptly crashed into you, you were made aware of who they were by the very familiar, signature fragrance on them, that had somehow clung to them in the endless vortex you were both now stuck in. Without a single word, you grabbed onto Adrien, and closed your eyes tightly.
The world could come crashing down for all you cared — as long as he was here, death didn’t sound so scary.
As long as everyone was happy, you didn’t care if you ceased to exist.
To make them happy.