"We did it, Nathalie." Gabriel stared out of his office window, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were distant, and though he was holding himself high like usual, he seemed less...stiff. He turned away from the window and looked at Nathalie. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "We succeeded."

Nathalie met his eyes, her face slack, neutral. One hand grasped the clipboard she dutifully kept near her. The other tightly held a walking cane. The handle was made of polished azurite stone with a silver collar; the body was a deep blue. "What do you plan to do now, sir?"

"Now," he said, "I'm done." Gabriel brought a hand to his tie, hovering over the brooch hidden beneath. "Things will return back to normal now that I have Emilie back. This will be nothing more than a small bump in history, and soon people will forget all about it. I finally have what I wanted."

"I'm happy for you, sir." Nathalie glanced down at her cane. The cool, specially made surface seemed to burn her skin. "What do you plan to do with the miraculouses now that you have no need for them?"

"I plan to lock them away forever in the vault below."

"You won't be returning them?"

"I can't do that without risking my identity. Also… who knows when I may need them again? This has happened once; it can happen again."

The office door swung open. Gabriel snapped his attention to the sophisticated blonde that entered the room. His eyes softened as he murmured, "Emilie."

Emilie looked at her husband and then at his secretary. She took in the cane that Nathalie clutched and stiffened. "Your health has declined since I've been gone. Has anything happened?"

"You've dropped Adrien off?" Gabriel asked. His eyes searched her face, worry subtly showing behind prescription glasses.

Emilie shifted her gaze back to Gabriel. Her posture relaxed, and she ran manicured nails lazily down the white wood of Nathalie's desk. "Yes."

Gabriel gave a slight nod to Nathalie, and she briskly left the room. Emilie's eyes followed her as she exited, an indescribable expression on her face.

"Excellent," Gabriel said, making his way to Emilie. He reached out a hand to gently grab her arm. "You must be tired. After a busy day back, you should rest."

Emilie's eyes snapped to Gabriel's. "Where did you find me?"

A sudden and familiar twinge echoed through his body. Adolescent hurt and anger. A heart broken. The feeling of betrayal and a desire to expose the truth.

Emotions Gabriel no longer had a use for.

He sighed and pulled away, needing a moment alone to properly handle discarding his miraculous. Normality would not return until they were gone. Walking to his touch screen, he said, "I have work that needs to be done. We can talk–"

"We can talk now." Emilie gritted her teeth and crossed her arms, her green eyes blazing. Gabriel remained silent. "I deserve to know. I woke up in our bed two years later, and you're trying to tell me to drop it? That's my life, Gabriel."

Her voice cracked. Gabriel stopped and blinked, suppressing a flinch. He wanted to relieve her pain, to tell her how he almost sacrificed everything to get her back, but she was too fragile. She needed time to readjust first.

"I know," he whispered, "but maybe you not remembering is for the best." He turned around and gently approached Emilie. Gripping her shoulders with both hands, Gabriel stared into the twin emerald eyes of his wife, the eyes that screamed anger, stubbornness, and life. He reached up a hand and gently caressed her face. "I'm trying to protect you, Emilie."

Emilie snatched his hand, her nails digging into his skin. A snarl formed on her face, and her eyes darkened. She hissed, "Don't. Touch. Me."

Gabriel immediately let go of her, a flash of pain pierced his heart. "Apologies."

With a look of disgust, Emilie turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. Gabriel watched her go, unable to move. Finally, still looking at the door, he reached up and unclasped the brooch from underneath his tie. He popped it open and looked at the photo within. The beautiful smiling face of his wife stared back at him. A mental image of his wife looking at him with such hatred and disgust came up.

"Maybe...I don't have what I wanted." Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and instinctually searched for the emotionally distraught teen he felt earlier. The anger was no longer present. He chuckled. "There's always tomorrow."