Adrien was pacing in his room when Plagg jumped through the window. His eyes darted around as if to ask if it was safe. Adrien nodded, watching as his mentor shifted, but the boy didn't pause in his mission to wear a hole through his carpet.
Plagg plopped down onto the couch and Adrien gulped, remembering how he and Marinette had sat right there a few days ago.
They'd been taking a quick break from their research and Alya and Nino-well, mainly Alya-had insisted on popping over to the cafe down the street for some coffee, leaving Adrien and Marinette conveniently alone. It was nerve-wracking at first-they'd both promised their mentors to stay apart except for these necessary study groups, and neither of them were sure of their control yet-but he'd patted the spot on the couch next to him anyway. After a moment, she seemed to give up whatever internal struggle she'd been waging and sat down next to him. When she settled, and leaned into his side, he felt his breath come easier and heart beat steady. She was like...extra oxygen he hadn't known he was missing. He didn't need her to live, but everything was easier when she was there.
"We shouldn't be doing this," she remarked, but made no move to shift away from him. He lifted his arm to lay it across her shoulders and she melded closer to his side. He could practically hear his body vibrate pleasantly at her proximity.
"Just a few minutes. Just until the others get back," he insisted and when she responded, he could hear the smile in her voice.
"You're going to get me in trouble one of these days, chaton."
Her voice was languid and easy, and when he looked down, he saw her eyes drifting closed, eyelashes dancing across her cheekbones. Her mouth parted and expression relaxed. He'd never seen anything more beautiful.
"Only the best kind, M'Lady," he promised, and her sleepy smiled stole his heart.
Adrien felt a shiver go through his body as he forced his mind back into the present and his eyes away from the couch. Just another promise he hadn't kept.
"So," Plagg said in a sing-song voice . "How's your day been?"
Adrien looked over at him sarcastically, thoroughly unamused.
"What?" Plagg protested. "This was your idea."
"Don't remind me," Adrien groaned and Plagg's teasing eyes turned concerned.
"Kid," he said softly. "You know you don't have to do this."
"Don't start-"
"I'm serious."
"So am I," Adrien turned to look at his mentor, his eyes kind but posture decided. He let out a sigh and went to sit in the armchair opposite Plagg.
"Look, I know you think it's a bad idea, that I'm not ready and that I don't owe Marinette anything," Plagg went to open his mouth, but Adrien held up a hand to stop him. For once, Plagg listened. "And even if we disagree on the second point, you have to see that I can't leave her in there. You have to know how I feel about her."
"Kid, we don't even know what you two are to one another. This weird bond," Plagg waved a hand in Adrien's general direction. "It's messing with your judgement."
"You're right, we don't know," Adrien conceded. "I know. I know what I feel for Mari. Is it scary powerful? Yes. Is there overwhelming? Yes. Is fifty percent of it just because of our strange métamorphe connection of legends? Possibly, but then there's a part that is so much more. The part that sees every place I've been with her in a new light because it's not mine anymore, it's ours. The part that remembers the way she crinkles her nose when she laughs and bites her tongue when she's concentrating. The part that yearns to watch her roll her eyes at my horrible jokes and smirk when she knows she's outwitted me."
"Adrien," Plagg starts hesitantly. "You've only known her two weeks."
Adrien looked back at Plagg, pulling himself firmly out of his reverie and just smiled sadly.
"And how long did it take you to fall in love with Tikki?"
Plagg sat silent, not bothering to deny Adrien's allegation. Despite a romance between the two of them technically being as illicit as what Adrien had with Marinette, Plagg just nodded at Adrien's question and sank back into the couch.
"Two days," he admitted finally and the two men shared a secret smirk. "So you're really doing this, huh?"
"I'm really doing this," Adrien confirmed, and then gulped, realizing it was now or never. His father would be getting back any minute. "Any words of wisdom?"
"Don't fuck up?" Plagg offered, but then smiled. "And when you need me, I'll be there. Just say the word."
Adrien nodded, and started to move towards the door. They'd spoken of it before, and he had to trust Plagg when he said their connection was enough for the man to get updates on Adrien through his visions into the past. He knew his mentor usually needed physical contact to share a person's memories. Adrien didn't want to think Plagg was lying just to give him some reassurance, but another part of him hoped to god he was lying, or that this was at least a new development. To think what memories Plagg might have been privvy to… Adrien shuddered, shaking off his mortification and trying to focus on the positive. It was a built in lifeline, and regardless of the invasion of privacy and Plagg's usually sarcastic demeanor, Adrien knew the man wasn't lying about one thing. If Adrien needed him, Plagg would be there.
With one hand on the handle, he looked back at his friend and mentor.
"Codeword: cheese?" Adrien teased, and Plagg grinned.
"Codeword: cheese."
Then Adrien walked out into the hall, leaving the warmth of his room and family behind in exchange for the stark marble halls of his childhood home. Walking under the high ceilings and past the barren walls, Adrien tried to muster up some remorse for what he had to do. Any semblance of guilt for deceiving his father in this way.
He found none.
Upon the realization-and acceptance-that his father was a psychopath that had not only killed people but was planning to kill more, Adrien only found resolve in the path he had to take. He didn't relish the idea of betraying his father-for all his faults, the man was his blood and while Adrien's mother was still alive, had been caring in the only way he knew how-but that was then. Now, he'd taken Adrien's girlfriend, and who knows how many other métamorphes, hostage. Adrien was a protector; he wouldn't just sit by and let it happen when he was in a unique position to help.
He trotted down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and veered right, pushing open the ornate doors that led to his father's office. Pausing for a moment, he took in the large portrait he rarely saw in his attempts to avoid his father at all cost. It was his mother just before she died, eyes still gleaming vibrantly and mouth tilted into an impish smile as she hugged a young Adrien close. The portrait was a patchwork of different textures, and the artist had used goldleaf for her hair. That always struck Adrien as befitting. It was as if she radiated sunlight. The artist had known her only a few hours, and seemed to capture her essence to perfection.
Ignoring the longing pang in his chest, Adrien moved on, towards the back of the office and behind his father's desk. After a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the ambiguous watercolor painting hanging on the back wall, his fingers finding the hidden release under the frame, and slid it to the side to reveal a metallic safe. Like everything else in the house, it was electronic, housing a keypad as well as a fingerprint and iris scanner. It had the added bonus of a manual lock as well. Adrien knew he'd never be able to actually open it, but that wasn't the goal. He just needed to get caught.
Taking a deep breath, he started to push random buttons on the control, pressing fingerprints into the scanner to cause every error message possible to pop up. They had a silent alarm, as secretive as everything else in the house, but when he heard the door swing open behind him, Adrien knew he'd succeeded. He thought about pretending to be oblivious to his father's presence in the room, but changed his mind. The goal was for Gabriel to trust him, to take him in as his confidant and to get as close to Marinette as possible. His father suffered no fools, so acting unaware would get him nowhere. He needed a more direct approach.
Adrien turned, meeting his father's eyes, but not speaking.
"What do you think you're doing?" Gabriel finally asked, but Adrien did not lower his gaze. He was done playing the deferential son.
"Getting you attention," he responded calmly and watched as Gabriel's eyebrow twitched. It was the closest to surprised his father had ever looked.
"Are you so desperate for parental affection?" He quipped back and Adrien had to stifle his scoff. As if his father would ever be the person to go to for "parental affection".
"I have a proposition for you," Adrien continued, ignoring his father's sarcasm and approaching him like the businessman he was. His father took a step forwards, crossing his arms across his chest.
"I'm listening."
"You've been grooming me to follow in your footsteps," Adrien stated rather than asked. It had never been explicitly stated, but anyone with eyes could see that the strenuous schedule and curriculum Adrien was forced to maintain correlated perfectly to his father's position at the MRA. Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but Adrien continued before he had the chance to speak. "It's time you start taking that seriously."
"Excuse me?" His father shot back, almost sputtering his response, if it was even possible for Gabriel to lose his composure that much.
"If you mean to truly prepare me, then you've been neglecting a whole facet of my education," Adrien stated, using all his years of practice to maintain his indifferent composure for what came next. "Haven't you, Hawkmoth?"
Adrien let the name hang in the air between them, watching as his father stood motionless. He didn't know how much time had passed, the racing of his heart a fickle metronome, but suddenly his father smiled, a small twitching of his lip that looked out of place on his austere face.
"Well," he intoned. "This was certainly unexpected. And how, pray tell, did you stumble upon that name?"
"Does it matter? I know everything now. "
"Yes," Gabriel returned immediately, answering his first question. "But I suppose that can wait for another time. As for knowing everything," Gabriel moved on to his statement, looking him up and down. "I highly doubt that, but please. Impress me."
Adrien's eyes narrowed, his face hardening.
"I'm not here to play your game, father. I'm not interested in being a part of your insipid army," Adrien spat, allowing all the animosity he'd held in for years flow into his words. He watched with satisfaction as his father showed some modicum of true surprise at his statement before something akin to pride shone in his eyes. Adrien continued on. "I'm interested in being activated, in learning, not putting on some show. Otherwise, this conversation is over. "
"My, my, my," Gabriel took a few steps forward, smiling at Adrien genuinely for the first time in recent memory. Adrien allowed himself to enjoy it for a moment before remembering the circumstances that brought it into existence. "You suddenly grew a spine when I wasn't looking. I'll admit, I noticed your underhanded manipulations to get what you want, particularly that schooling of yours, but I never thought you'd have the guts to confront me like this. I must say," Gabriel lifted a hand to Adrien's shoulder. "I am proud."
Adrien remained silent, remembering his father's advice from long ago that silence was sometimes the best negotiating tactic. Tell the other side all you were willing for them to know, and then say nothing, giving nothing away and letting them come to their own conclusion. Let them sweat over what you actually have up your sleeve, even if it is nothing. Gabriel smiled wider, watching Adrien's display.
"So you want to be a métamorphe," he finally spoke again and Adrien inclined his head slightly in confirmation. "Well, that can be arranged, but after, if you really want to join me," Gabriel came to stand next to Adrien and slung his arm amiably around the boy's shoulders. "There's something I want to show you first…"