Chapter 20

Adrien sat very still. He kept his face completely impassive. His father stood with his back to him, looking at the portrait of his mother on the wall. "I'm glad you are here, Adrien. There was no need to run away, of course. You gave us all quite the fright."

Adrien bit his tongue to prevent himself from lashing out. He didn't want to give his father the satisfaction. "I didn't feel safe here." There was so much more he wanted to say, but Plagg had warned him in a rapid hiss of instructions as he'd been marched inside to keep it simple.

"Oh, no, that won't do. Of course you're safe here," Gabriel crooned. The hair stood up on the back of Adrien's neck.

"I will never be safe living under the same roof as Hawkmoth," Adrien spat.

Gabriel turned slowly and examined his son over the top of his glasses. "So, we understand each other at last, Chat Noir."

Adrien wanted to attack, to rip the man to shreds, but he wanted answers first. "Why? For all these years, why?"

Gabriel swallowed. "You never figured that out? Oh, yes, of course you wouldn't figure it out. Ladybug may have, but not sweet, stupid Chat Noir." Adrien bristled but didn't flinch. "It's quite simple, really. I did it for the same reason you're here chasing after Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I did it for love."

Adrien raised an eyebrow, "I don't believe you."

Gabriel scoffed, "Your mother has been gravely ill. I've been tending to her, preserving her, waiting for the time I could procure the Miraculous to rewrite reality and save her."

Adrien's heart clinched, but he couldn't lose focus. "Oh, that's not what I disbelieve—I don't believe that you have the capacity to love."

Gabriel's upper lip twitched, "It is you, my dear son, who doesn't understand what love truly is. You think love is romance and heroics. Love is sacrifice, love is pain, love is destroying everything for one moment."

Adrien shook his head slowly, "You're wrong. Mother wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want you to terrorize a whole city for years on her behalf. She'd hate what you've become. You're a villain. She was a hero."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed slightly, "You don't know anything about her."

Adrien fought the urge to rip the man's face off. "I know more about her than you do, you who were always too busy to spend any time with your family. I know she was warm and kind. I know she loved to laugh. That's more than you ever knew."

Gabriel made a motion to attack Adrien but restrained himself. The tension in the room was palpable. "You're a loyal servant, Chat Noir. Nobody can say you're not loyal."

Adrien cleared his throat, "Well, if all you wanted was our Miraculous so you could save Mother, why didn't you just ask?"

Gabriel blinked twice, then glared. "That's neither here nor there. You've rewritten reality already. You've managed to nearly destroy this one as well."

Adrien grinned, "That's what real love can do."

Gabriel grew earnest, "You need to stop."

Adrien rolled his eyes, "And why would I do that?"

"To save your mother."

Adrien choked. "What?"

"She's healing. Without the peacock miraculous in this reality, she's getting better. She's… I'm certain she's going to recover. But the more you meddle with reality, the more Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng changes, the weaker she becomes."

Adrien stood, made it to his father in two great strides, and grabbed his red and white striped ascot in his fist, "Where is she? What have you done to her?"

Gabriel sneered, "Ah, so you do still care."

"She's my mother. Of course I care. Where is she?"

"You know I'm not going to tell you that."

Adrien released his father's scarf and stepped back. "You're vile. You'd use my own Mother as a pawn to get to me. But then again, that's what she's always been, hasn't she? You call her your motivation; I call her your tool." But even as Adrien spoke the words, his voice cracked. He loved his mother terrifically. His father's callous words about her ripped his heart in two. She was alive? She was nearby? She was healing? Would he soon be hugging her, laughing with her once more?

Gabriel smoothed his ascot and adjusted his glasses. "I can tell this is a lot for you to take in. I will let you have some time to ruminate everything we've discussed. Stop your meddling. Reality can't take much more of it anyway. And if it disintegrates completely, are you quite sure that will be a result you're happy with? Think about it." Gabriel turned and surveyed the art-deco portrait of Emilie on the wall behind him. "You know where to find me, should you wish to negotiate the terms of your surrender."

Adrien growled, but couldn't stay here any longer. He collected his belongings and marched for the exit of the atelier. He paused at the door, brain whirling, "Father," Gabriel turned to him slowly, "I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you." And with that, Adrien left the room with Gabriel's gaping mouth emblazoned in his memory.

Chloe's face was full of concern as she opened the door to her hotel suite. "Adrien, what's wrong?"

"Sorry, I'm probably getting mud on the carpet." The rain had been coming down in hard white sheets as he'd walked back to the hotel. Adrien was shaking from cold and shock.

She shook her head, "So not the right thing to worry about at this moment." She ushered him inside and ripped his shirt off over his head. She made to undo his pants, but he batted her hand away. "Fine, you wanna be modest now, be modest. But you're not going to die of hyperthermia on my watch."

He smiled despite himself, "Can I use the bathroom?"

"Sure. Take all the time you need. But keep it under twenty-three minutes, that's how long the hot water typically lasts. I know, ridiculous. It's a hotel. I've had to learn to deal with it." Adrien felt a surge of gratitude for Chloe. He wrapped his arms around her and didn't even try to hold back the tears. She patted his back a couple times stiffly, but didn't push him away. When he finally had his fill, he stepped back. Her clothes were damp from his hug, but she just looked at him. "Better?" he nodded once. "Ok, go get a shower. Then you'll tell me everything."

He nodded sullenly and dragged his feet across the carpet toward her luxurious bathroom. "One thing," he murmured, "I wouldn't die of hyperthermia. It's hypothermia. And even that I wouldn't—"

"Just get your butt in the shower!"

Chloe had suggested that he'd feel better with a stomach full of hot food and some dry clothes. She was wrong. "I don't know what to do," he moaned and traced the lines of Ladybug's face in his sketchbook. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way."

Chloe took a bite of her cassoulet and leaned back, "Maybe you are."

Adrien gave her a surprised look, "What does that mean?"

She shrugged, "Have you considered just letting things be? Starting fresh?"

He bristled, "You mean abandon my reality? Abandon Ladybug?"

She shook her head, "Don't get defensive on me. I'm trying to help, remember? But you should think about it. Not abandoning Ladybug, no, but accepting things for how they are instead of how they once were."

He wanted to be angry, but he was too exhausted to put up a fight. Besides, he'd waded through a lot of painful self-discovery in the last few days and been humbled for it. If he couldn't pause for introspection now, when would he? "I… I don't know what to say. Paris needs us, they need Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"Not in this reality, they don't," she countered.

"What about the Miracle Box? What about the kwami? Plagg, Tikki, Sass, Fluff, even Nooroo—"

Chloe thought for a moment, "What about them? They're ok. Plagg's happily raiding the fridge downstairs. Their fate isn't tied to reality. And maybe they'd be happier without having to constantly fight each other."

Adrien had never thought about it like that. "Ok, you've got a point. Maybe this reality isn't so bad. Maybe I should just give up."

"Tell me again what your father said. Just the facts, please."

He took a bite of dinner and swallowed before responding, "He said he's been doing this for years because of my mother. He said she's hurt, I think it might have been the Peacock Miraculous, because in this reality she's getting better."

Chloe scratched her chin, "Getting better according to him. When was the last time you saw your mother, Adrien?"

He felt tears prickle behind his eyes, "A-about five years ago. Father told me that she'd gone missing after a trip to Tibet, but after a few months, I came to terms with the fact that she was probably dead."

"Came to terms, huh?" Chloe repeated, "You just decided it was ok that your Mother was dead?"

Adrien glared, "It's not ok."

"But you stopped looking for her, you stopped hoping. You moved on."

Adrien sprang to his feet, face red, fists clenched, "Shut up! You don't know anything about it! I mourned for her! I loved her! I miss her every moment of every day! She was the only bright light in my life, ok? It ripped my heart out when she disappeared, and I don't know how to handle that. Father stuck me in front of a camera and told me to smile so I did. I never questioned when I should have. That's eating me alive! Was there something more I could have done? I failed her!" He kicked his chair across the room.

Chloe looked up at him steadily, "That's better. You've bottled that up for way too long."

Adrien threw her a withering look, but she was right. "I… I don't know how to handle this, Chloe. I thought that maybe if I just smiled enough, eventually it wouldn't be an act. If I cracked enough jokes, eventually the levity would come from my heart. If I wore the mask long enough, my real face, this face," he wiped tears from his cheeks, "would fade into oblivion. It almost worked, too. I've been more Chat Noir than Adrien for years."

She stood and walked to his side and cupped his face in her hands. "Adrien, you didn't fail your mother."

"I know," he whispered, "but it sure feels like that. Especially now knowing that if, by some miracle, I can get Ladybug to reject this reality and return to the way things were, I will lose any chance of being with my Mother again."

"Do you want to stay in this reality?"

He thought about his answer long and hard, "I don't know."

"Thank you for being honest, with me, and more importantly, with yourself."

Adrien nodded. Chloe wrapped her arms around his waist and he returned the hug. "Thanks for being the friend I never knew I needed."

Adrien and Marinette walked slowly along the banks of the Seine as the sun set, sending fiery rays of pink and orange dancing across the sky. The air was warm and fragrant. Adrien tickled her pinky with his and she promptly interlaced their hands.

The scenery flashed and now they were cuddled together on Adrien's couch, watching a movie. She had knees tucked under her chin and buried her face into them whenever it got too intense. Adrien laughed at how adorable was, scooted closer, and wrapped his arm around her. She snuggled into his chest and he kissed the top of her head.

Another flash of light and Adrien was riding in a convertible with the top down along the winding streets of the French Countryside. The day was bright and green. Marinette was in the driver's seat, her long hair waving in curtains behind her. He reached carefully across and stroked the back of her arm. Her mouth twitched into a smile that made his heart race.

Flash. Marinette wore a ruffled apron that was covered in flour. Adrien snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She spun into him, laughing as he tickled her ribs. She ran her fingers through his hair, stood on her toes, and leaned into their kiss.

Flash. Adrien grinned at the envelope in his hand. He'd been accepted to HEC Paris—he still couldn't believe it. He hovered outside the locker room, waiting for her, excited to revel in the news together. At last, he saw the long black hair bob into view, grabbed her hand and spun her into a low dip where he kissed her deeply. The students around him were whistling and cheering, but Adrien couldn't have cared less.

Flash. Marinette dug her toes into the sand as another wave crashed up to her knees and then retreated. Adrien gazed at her beauty, stunned that she'd picked him. He took her hand softly, spoke her name with all the love he could muster, then bowed to one knee.

Flash. Adrien swallowed the tears back as he locked eyes with Marinette. Her dress was simple and elegant—long white lace that hugged her chest and hips. She smiled brilliantly as she stepped up to the altar and linked arms with Adrien.

Flash. Adrien ran a finger under Marinette's jaw, down her neck, across her shoulder, and down her back. She rolled over to face him, smiling once, before kissing him passionately over and over again.

Flash. Marinette's stomach was round and firm under Adrien's hands. There—it bumped his palm again. And again.

Flash. Marinette was sleeping peacefully as Adrien paced the bedroom with their son in his arms, bouncing softly. He made a quiet shushing noise in the baby's ear, hoping to buy just a few more minutes of rest for his beautiful wife.

Flash. Adrien tenderly took Marinette's hand as their black-haired daughter put on the square graduation cap and smiled for the camera. Marinette leaned her head on Adrien's shoulder, the two of them at peace with the world.

Flash. Marinette's hair was gray and thin, her skin wrinkled, her lips cracked. Adrien still thought she was the most beautiful person in the world. As he reached for her, he noticed that his hands were just as old as hers. He smiled. Every moment of happiness had been etched in those wrinkles, and he was proud of them. Marinette smiled back, leaned in, and kissed him softly.

Adrien was extremely comfortable, until he rolled over and fell off Chloe's couch. He stood and stretched, remembering the dream. It had been a very good dream. The last lingering vision of two wrinkled hands made him sigh contentedly. He pulled his sketchbook out of his messenger bag, determined to use his early morning hour to immortalize the image. He found his pencil and started to draw. But it didn't work. The lines were hard and awkward. He erased and tried again, only to make a bigger mess on the page. Strange. Then again, hands, especially wrinkled, aged hands, were very difficult. He turned to a blank page and tried outlining Marinette's wedding dress. It had been slender, hugging her chest and her hips, then flaring out around her feet. He tried to draw the curves of her body but instead ended up with what looked more like a vase of flowers than a human being. Thoroughly discouraged, Adrien put his sketchbook away, stretched, and started getting dressed. His ankle felt much better, so he took off the ace bandage, just like the doctor had recommended. The tan fabric rolled away to reveal a fully healed foot, without even a hint of the bruise it had been sporting even the night before. Adrien put his full weight on it and did a few jumping jacks just to be sure—it was completely healed. Adrien smiled, walked to the window, and looked over the dawn breaking across Paris. It was going to be a beautiful day.