Author's note: Thanks for the review!

/

Adrien awakens groggy and confused. His head is ringing.

He's warm though and his bed is comfortable. He lies there for a few moments. He can't even pull himself together enough to process the world around him. Not that it matters. His body feels a little bit strange, out of sorts. He doesn't question it all that much, reasoning that he just needs a few moments longer to pull himself together. He groans softly and feels something shifting on the pillow next to him. It's Plagg, there is just enough concern behind those green eyes of his to trouble the human. Groaning, he makes the effort to raise his head.

It's then that he twigs that there's a towel which has been placed over the pillow. Increasingly confused, he also registers that it's day time. It seems rather bright too. Wondering just what time it is, he reaches out and checks his phone.

9.22 am.

He's late. Very late. That's two hours of class already, probably three by the time he's ready, that he's missed.

He curses loudly and jumps out of bed. It's only then that he realizes he's dressed. It's then that everything that had happened the night before comes back to him. It hits him like a freight train. His father is home. He'd ran away. His father is home. He'd been so frightened… His father is home. Lost. He needed to come home. Home is where is father is.

Legs trembling, Adrien stumbles backwards. Sitting down on his bed. Listlessly, he sits there, struggling to make sense of anything. Plagg, worried, floats over and settles down on his partner's knee. He waits for a few moments, unusually for him, he's patient. He doesn't get much of a recognition. The lost look on the teen's face is enough however to prompt the kwami to inquire quietly:

"You okay?"

"Gabriel…" Adrien mutters, broken. "He's back..."

His body feels somewhat numb and his mind can't quite process that simple fact. He can't remember all that much about last night. Terror. That's what comes back to him the most. In his mind, Gabriel Agreste and Hawk Moth twist together to form one and the same. They are two sides of the same coin. He knows that. For the life of him however, he couldn't have said which one of the two had been standing there waiting for him. At a push, he would likely have claimed that it was the supervillain who had greeted him.

He can feel his heart begin to beat that little bit faster.

Desperate to avoid another attack like the one that he had suffered last night, he goes through his phone. There are a few messages. The most recent of which is from Nathalie:

"I called in sick for you."

"Thanks." He makes the effort to respond promptly.

"Breakfast?" Her own reply is near instantaneous.

"Please."

He's not too sure that he has it in him to leave his room. Not quite just yet. So he sits there and waits. Anything to avoid facing his new reality.

There are other messages. One's from a school friend assuring him that he'll take care of the notes for the day. They receive a thanks. The rest are from Marinette. She's worried, eager to know that he's alright. Adrien sends her a few texts. They're not entirely true and that hurts him a bit but he doesn't want his girlfriend fretting about him unnecessarily. So he tells her that he's fine. It just came as a bit of a shock and he needed a breath of fresh air. That's all. She stresses to keep her updated and not to hesitate to come over if things get rough. He promises that he will but insists that everything's alright.

A few minutes later, the door is pushed open tentatively by Nathalie. She's carrying a tray. He can smell the viennoiseries and hot cocoa from here. His stomach rumbles reminding him that he skipped dinner last night. She brings it over to him, placing it on the table next to his bed. He can scarcely contain himself. Sure enough, he digs in a few moments later, abandoning all restraint. It seems to amuse the woman more than anything:

"Hungry?"

"Starved." He answers, his mouth still full of pastries.

"You had a panic attack." She informs him, just in case wasn't quite aware or had forgotten.

"I can feel it." The young man pauses a moment, contemplating the plate. "Have you eaten?"

She rolls her eyes but takes a croissant anyway. Slowly but surely, he's beginning to regain some sort of sense of himself. With it comes the realization of just what happened and what's yet to come. For starters, he doubts that he's going to be able to pretend to his mother that everything's alright anymore. That's going to inevitably lead to a thousand more questions which he's really not all that sure he can answer, at least not without any assistance. The thought is as unappealing as it is frightening.

This little meal is just a prelude. Something to help him relax, to get his strength back and hopefully to recover somewhat from last night. Although that he knows from some experience can take quite a while.

Nathalie remains quiet, unwilling to push him about the matter. He knows that it's inevitable that it will be brought up however. Blowing steadily on his cocoa, the teen ponders where even to begin. There's so much that needs to be thought about, even although they've already spent ample amounts of time discussing and preparing for this eventuality. He still feels lost, terrified by the prospect of just what's to come. There is one thing that he feels obliged to do:

"I'm sorry for last night."

"It's okay." She assures him, voice quieter than usual.

"So… Gabriel's back. That was a big of a shock." He waits a few seconds but doesn't immediately get any response. "Man, what are we going to do?"

He's aware that he must sound childish but the trust is that he's lost and scared. If Marinette were here, he'd turn to her as well. She isn't though. Right now, she'll be in classes, hopefully with other things on her mind. So that just leaves the three of them. Nathalie contemplates the matter in silence. They had had plans. So he's tempted to say, why change? Then again, his father's sudden arrival last night has shaken things up a fair bit. He's not the only one who was taken by surprise, as even the woman seems to be a bit lost, nibbling at her croissant but providing no answers. Thankfully, Plagg is there to push things along:

"If you ask me, this all smells like rotten cheese!"

"You don't know that." Nathalie intervenes somehow not irritated. "It's entirely possible that she just wanted to surprise you. After all… She wasn't to know."

"And now she's been here on her own for God knows how long with Gabriel!" Adrien mutters through clenched teeth, feeling a familiar anger mount inside of him. "He could have been feeding her all kinds of sh-"

"Which is why-" Nathalie cuts him off just in time. "-we need to tell her everything."

Adrien turns to face her suddenly. There are some things he isn't very comfortable discussing, even with Marinette. Nathalie knows about them purely because she's had to live with him and it's hard to conceal anything from her. The idea of openly confessing to his father that he's been hurt, suffers from panic attacks and often struggles to sleep the night through is not an appealing one. If there's one thing he's afraid to be it's weak.

His lip trembles a few times, his gaze focusing elsewhere. Telling his mother the truth is one thing but it's his father he doesn't know if he can look in the eye.

"Man… What if I- I get angry." He closes his eyes, bitter regret and shame taking hold. "Last time we met, I almost..."

"I know." She stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "-but I'll be there and Plagg's nearby. You're not alone."

He leans in, resting his cheek against her hand, taking comfort in her presence for a few instants. She gives him some courage and he places his trust in her. Should he need it, she can take over. Nathalie will be able to keep his demons at bay for a little while.

She leaves a few moments later. He needs some time to smarten up. His hair is a mess after he'd fallen asleep with it wet and Plagg informs him that he stinks. So a wash and a clean set of clothes won't go amiss. All the time, there's a certain feeling of dread that's in the pit of his stomach. He does his best to fight it back and ignore it. Then chooses to accept that it's there but keep it in check. He breathes deeply, convincing himself that he's going to go into battle. His small partner hides in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He slips his hand in, ensuring that he can feel the kwami at all times.

Outside, Nathalie is waiting. She offers him a gentle smile which fails to raise his spirits as much as he would like:

"You'll do fine." She assures him. "You're parents are downstairs."

It's like a trip back in time for Adrien as they set off. There he is, heading towards his father waiting for him in the study – oh and his mother. With Nathalie accompanying him, she's adopted something of a deadpan expression. It's her own personal version of warpaint. She wears it into the office from time to time. He has to repeat to himself, time and time again that things have changed. She's no longer a warden escorting him down the last mile towards his fate. The woman by his side is an ally. She cares for him, as he does for her. Plagg is here too. Marinette waits elsewhere. He'll be okay, because he isn't alone.

Sure enough, they're waiting for him. Sitting round the dinning table because it's the most convivial room that they actually have.

Adrien freezes as soon as his eyes meet those of his father. The mere sight of the man is enough to get his heart rate to speed up. For a few terrible seconds, he feels that he might be about to relapse and have another panic attack. So he forces himself to breathe, filling his lungs with oxygen to steady himself to the best of his ability. It's hard to appear confident and strong when deep inside of him, there's a fear which takes root and spreads. It threatens to either paralyze him or to cause him to flee.

He feels a little bit silly, childish as he shelters behind Nathalie. It's not like she's much of a barricade and Gabriel can most definitely still see him. Still, knowing that she's there gives him the courage that he needs to settle down at the table.

It feels as if all eyes are on him. His parents most certainly are. Whilst he knows what needs to be done, he's not sure if he's got it in him to begin. He doesn't know what sort of an effect this is going to have on his mother. The woman, as far as he's aware has been in the dark about her beloved husband's activities during the period that she was asleep for. He doesn't want to be the one to break her heart. The silence is an uncomfortable one, difficult to bear. Already stressed, he finds himself squirming uncomfortably in his chair, wishing for all of this to be over and done with.

Finally, straightening herself, it's Emilie who begins what almost feels like a trial:

"So… I think there's something you need to tell me."

"I-It's a long story." Adrien manages to get out.

"That's okay. I don't think anyone here has anything better to do." His mother replies her voice is somehow both soft and business-like at the same time.

The teen gives the woman sitting to his right a tentative glance. Nathalie responds with a very slight but none-the-less encouraging nod. So he takes and deep breath and begins.

It's the tale of his life more or less that he's telling and as he recounts it, he's aware that it sounds insane. Not all that long ago, he could have ended up in a straight jacket or at the very least in front of a medical professional for going on about magical jewelry and kwamis. Nowadays, people just seemed to accept it. They tell her about just what Hawk Moth did. About how he had become Cat Noir and the battles they have fought. That Nathalie had saved him when his father learned of his true identity, taking him someplace safe (although they chose not to specify just where their bolthole was). What Gabriel had done and how he had been exiled.

At times, Nathalie takes over if she senses that he's struggling. She fills in the details almost as if she were some manner of machine. Oh how he envies her the ability to disconnect herself from her emotions. For the longest time as a boy, he'd wondered if she even had any feelings. Now he knows that she's simply a master at concealing and controlling them. It serves her well, especially at a time like this. From time to time, she's tried to teach him how to mimic her. For the most part, he fails. Keeping up the facade is so much effort that it only makes the emotions the stronger and inevitably he's overcome both more suddenly and more violently by them.

There's a deafening silence in the pause once they're finished. Emilie doesn't look at them. Is it anger? Shame? Or does she just need some time to process everything that she's just, more or less had dumped on her.

Sitting there. Adrien finds himself shrinking away. Gabriel is strangely silent. He'd been expecting an argument. Instead, the man accepts his wrongdoings in silence. That's enough to trigger some of his son's suspicions. He finds it almost impossible to accept that he can have anything in his heart other than malice. Emilie fixes the table, she rubs the skin around her wrist listlessly. Finally, without even raising her gaze to meet them, she declares:

"Gabriel has already told me."

"Told you what?" Whilst Adrien is stunned silent, Nathalie retains her ability to speak.

"Everything that you just said. Minus a couple of deals. He told me he was Hawk Moth about five minutes after he came home."

Adrien just blinks a few times. For some reason, that simple statement just won't pass through his head. He initially assumes that he must have misheard. There is no way that Gabriel Agreste would willingly have confessed his crimes to his wife. It doesn't make any sense. If he did that then that would mean that his mother would have to- No. There's no conceivable way that she could possibly have forgiven him. Not after everything he did. Not after what he cost his son and Nathalie. Nobody could possibly-

Gabriel Agreste is a monster.

"What?!"

Why is he angry? He doesn't want to be angry.

He can't help it. As always, it comes on so suddenly with a violence that he struggles to contend with meaning that he doesn't have enough time to ready himself. In the space of a few seconds, it takes over. The rage just seeps through. It makes it past all of his defenses such as they are. He grinds his teeth in the back of his mouth, something he knows could give him a headache later on. His hands would ball into fists but they're sitting down, so instead he grips at his jeans. Being faced with his father, he can only feel the injustice and anger inside of him grow.

Today however, he turns his anger towards his mother afflicted by a sense of betrayal for which there are no words to describe:

"You knew and you let that bordille stay in the house?!"

Gabriel and Emilie exchanged puzzled glances, they seem to twig that it's an insult of some kind but remain none-the-wiser as to just how severe it is, if it is at all. Next to him, Nathalie glances in his direction. She's cautious around the lad, knowing full-well, like him that it can take next to nothing for him to fly off of the handle. Plagg is also worried but dares not show himself.

He forces himself to remain as calm as possible. Breathe and all that. It's not easy when every beat of his heart sends rage pulsing through his veins. It drowns everything else out. A few years ago, Nathalie had given him some lessons or at least tried to encourage him to stem these little attacks as and when they happen. He tries to put all of that into practice but as always, it's hard to focus and come to terms with what's relative when he'd in such a state. His most basic urge is to explode and take it out on those around him.

"You know everything that he's done." Forcing himself to remain tranquil is somehow almost physically painful. "What he did to Paris… And you're forgiving him?"

It's Emilie's turn to let out a sigh. For a moment, she doesn't fix her son. Instead, focusing firmly on the space in front of her. She takes a few moments to respond. There's a sorrowful or perhaps regretful expression on her face. Adrien gives her some time, enough at any rate to get her thoughts together and answer. If he's had enough of an opportunity to at least somewhat prepare himself, he realizes, then so has she. Presumably she's thought all of this and the implications through carefully and prepared her answer accordingly.

Both the fact that she hesitates and that his father's still here confirms in his mind that he's not going to like what she has to say:

"No. Not entirely. What your father did was wrong." The woman glances up at the boy before her attention drifts back up to Gabriel. The man sits there solemnly. "But that leaves us with two options, doesn't it? Either we punish him, one way or another say by banishing him to China as you did or… We let bygones be bygones, accept what happened and try to get on with our lives."

Get on with their lives?!

The mere notion makes him want to scream. His blood boils. The anger is a madness. He knows it. In part, that's what makes it so terrible. There's some part of him which realizes just what he's doing, that he's losing control. Sometimes, it's almost too much for him. He becomes a spectator more than he is an actor. How can she expect them just to get on with their lives after everything that's happened. Nathalie brushes her fingers against his wrist, eager to try and remind him that he isn't alone and that he has to keep a level-head.

At the very least, for her, he forces himself not to shout. If he loses it here… Well, he's not too sure what might happen. He's come close to doing something terrible before.

"Getting on with our lives..." He pauses taking a deep breath. "We can't go back to being a big happy family!"

"I'm not saying that it won't take time and effort-" Emilie continues, doing her best to keep her voice gentle.

"I put in effort! Two years of it! One living here, the other not hauling his ass to jail when I could have!"

"Watch your language!" Gabriel raises his voice for the first time, it's an instinct.

"Shut it!"

Nathalie struggles with the urge to put her face into her hands. This is going about as well as she'd initially thought it would. Some degree of conflict is going to be inevitable. She knows that much. The issue is moderating it. It would be easily to let things slip to a point where the damage is too great to be repaired. She judges Adrien's mood cautiously. He's getting close to losing control, she can see that much. His parents, whilst she can't comment about their intentions, are blissfully unaware of how to handle him. Both sides are riling up the other.

So she does the only thing that she feels that she can do right now and intervenes:

"Adrien..." Nathalie speaks softly to him. "How about a breath of fresh air?"

He contemplates her. There's just a glint of madness behind his eyes. It fades away soon enough as he remembers just where he is and who he's with. Without saying another word, he gets to his feet and slips out of the room. His steps are loud, a clear sign that he's angry. The door slams and he's outside.

That will likely be him for the rest of the day… Nathalie thinks to herself. Still, there's nothing to be done for it. Adrien Agreste is going to be a painful neighbor to have to live with for a while. Hopefully Plagg and Marinette will be able to cheer him up or at the very least temper some of that anger. He needs some time to think and more importantly to cool off. Walking Macaroon should also help. She'll have to trust him to manage himself for a few minutes as she's not quite done yet. Some things have to be made very clear to the lad's parents.

If Gabriel is shaken, his wife seems… Well, Nathalie's never been all that good at reading her. That in itself is a worry.

"You're sending him for a time-out?" There's almost something of a mocking tone behind Emilie's voice.

"Would you rather he start throwing things at you?" Nathalie forces herself to remain deadpan serious, presenting things as a matter of fact. "If you want this to work out, you're going to have to give him some space."

"This being the doctor's opinion."

"No… This being the experience of the woman who's been caring for him these past four years." Steadily she gets to her feet. "Stay or leave, it's your choice but if you want your family back, it's going to be a very long process and it'll take work from everyone."

She spins on her heels brusquely, leaving the room and the couple with hopefully a good deal to think about. They don't call after her. There's no need for them to do so.

The ball is in their court.