The view outside of his window never changes. Well, not enough. At most, he sees the occasional car or person go past. There are so few though… Sometimes it feels like the world has frozen.

He tries to avoid being idle for long periods, fully aware that it doesn't do him much good as it causes his mind to drift and wander. That, over prolonged periods, has already proven itself to be damaging. More often than not, he finds himself able to remain occupied. It's not much of a challenge. He has Macaroon to take care off. Such a large dog needs to be taken for frequent walks which provide his owner with the perfect opportunity to get outside and stretch his legs, escaping the building which once more feels like it's become a prison. When he is forced to return home, he doesn't leave his bedroom. Inside, he's easily able to distract himself with school work and revision. When he's not doing that, he turns to his phone, sends messages to his friends. He wants to call Marinette but holds off from doing it excessively, about once a day seems to be appropriate, they chat and he doesn't feel quite so alone.

Inevitably however, there are times when the replies are just a little bit slow in coming and when he can't face diving back into his school work. So Plagg is there for him. He's aware that the kwami is making an effort to make all of this just that little bit more bearable for him and he'd grateful, not that he's ever managed to articulate that much. For whatever reason, his feelings seem to be just that little bit distant and unclear to him. It's almost as if he's out of touch with them somehow.

Occasionally however, he does find himself alone with his thoughts. As alone as he can be with Plagg and Macaroon in the same room. He sits there, looking out over the city. His kwami perched on his shoulder, whilst with his right hand, he mindlessly pets Macaroon. His thoughts are spinning around. He's acutely aware of the fact that a few months ago, he would have been sat down in the lounge, Nathalie would have been there with him. They might not actually have chatted all that much. Some evenings were pretty quiet but at least he wouldn't have been cooped up here like this; a voluntary prisoner.

There's a presence he's been trying his best to ignore for a while now. It gnaws at him, although he's proving to be remarkably stubborn. It's as if by keeping his gaze focused exclusively on what's going on outside of his window – which isn't all that much right now, it has to be said – he hopes that he might be able to will his reality away.

"Adrien." The voice is firm and leaves little scope for him ignore it any further.

Slowly, the teen turns round. His green gaze meets the figure of a tall man. His father doesn't appear to be quite as uptight and formal as he usually is. His posture, whilst not relaxed, certainly isn't formal or menacing. The man actually appears to be tired. His gaze isn't as sharp as it usually is. There's an acceptance when he receives a hostile and hateful look from his own flesh and blood which is clear intended to drive him away. The man refuses to budge however and this officially becomes the first time that he has invaded the teen's safe space.

"How long is this going to last?"

Adrien doesn't know how to answer such a question.

It's not something he's given much though to plainly because since Nathalie was sent away, he's not even contemplated what his future with his parents would look like. He hates both of them, although at this point, he's not able to say if it's in equal measure. He doesn't know which one masterminded all of this or if it was some form of concerted effort. Ultimately, it doesn't really matter. Both would have been in on it which in his mind makes them both culprits, responsible with wounding him deeply. They must have known that it would hurt him and yet they'd gone ahead with it anyhow. That would make the answer to his father initial question: indefinitely or forever.

The only way that he finds to express such a sentiment in through giving his father a look charged with unbridled rage and hatred. It's as much of a warning as anything else, telling the man that he had better back off. Plagg floats near him, eyeing the intruder cautiously. There's no Nathalie here to pull the teen off of the older man should he snap and snapping is something which is terribly tempting right now. Gabriel is fazed but once more, he doesn't back down.

"Can't we start again? Go back to being father and son… All those years, I thought that's what you wanted."

Adrien turns away rather than respond. Are his father's words having an effect on him or is he simply wrestling with the urge to punch the man in the face? Time trickles by but still the teen refuses to turn around or otherwise acknowledge the man's presence. The message is clear. The man's stubborn refusal to leave tells his son something in itself. Perhaps this is things finally coming to a head, the inevitable conflict which has been brewing over the course of the past few days and which he's been struggling to postpone for fear of the consequences which it might potentially entail.

His father grits his teeth, growing increasingly irritated with the situation. He never was the most patient of men and the current situation is trying every last nerve in his body. It would be easy to give in to the urge to force a change, to snap at the son who up until only a few years ago more or less obeyed his parents' every command because they were the only world that he knew.

"You forgave Nathalie!" He reminds the teenager dryly. "Why forgive her and not your own father?!"

Adrien tenses up and for a moment, his father assumes that his temper is going to flare and that he will attack either verbally or physically. Even Plagg seems to be bracing himself to help his partner or to ensure that he doesn't take things too far? He lets out a sigh however and all of that stiffness vanishes. His shoulders slump and his head hangs low. He seems to be exhausted.

He's spent himself emotionally a thousand times over and now has nothing left the give. In those few instants, Adrien simply drifts away. All of the defenses that he's built around himself disappear. They don't collapse so much as ebb away, their creator is simply too tired to bother maintaining them any longer. So he does something that even when the two of them were relatively close, the man's son would have hesitated to do for fear of the consequences. He answers the question as honestly as he could with a truth which under other circumstances he might otherwise have attempted to conceal.

"I spent a year wanting to forgive you." He speaks quietly but calmly. "You spat it back in my face. You were never there for me. If I hadn't gone to school that one time, I'd have spent the rest of my days cooped up in my room. Then when I left… Nathalie never told me why she was so panicked but I can guess… I wanted to forgive you as Dylan. I used to hope and pray that you'd stop but you didn't. You got worse and worse. That night in the Grand Palais. You left me for dead."

"I didn't know it was you!" The man's tone is uncharacteristically soft, almost pleading. "I would never have-"

"I still get nightmares you know." At this point, it's a fair bet that they've heard some of the shouts and screams he sometimes lets out despite himself. "I can feel the metal tearing into my skin and the pain from where you stabbed me. I can't go in a room much smaller than a toilet without getting panic attacks. Every second I'm around you, it's not my father that I see… It's Hawk Moth and you want me to just act as if nothing happened?!"

Gabriel doesn't answer. He stares at his son for a few moments. Is this news to him? Adrien can't tell and truth be told, he doesn't particularly care either way. He's got it out of his system. His father now cannot possibly claim to be ignorant of what he has forced his flesh and blood to endure and what the young man is suffering through on a daily basis. He only wishes that there were a way to make his parent feel some of what troubles him. If Hawk Moth could experience the pain and terror would that make anything better?

The silence that settles in is difficult to endure for both of them. Gabriel is reticent to speak. What can he say in the face of such a declaration from his son? He could apologize. It's tempting, if only because it would be a gesture. There's no changing what had happened between them. Adrien had almost been killed by his carelessness and in return, the then fifteen-year-old had come close to slaying his own father. Both events will no doubt haunt the two of them till the end of their days.

It's the son who ends up continuing when his father opts to remain silent. It's one of the occasions where an absence of words can speak just as much as their presence.

"I actually might have forgiven you, eventually..." He lets out in a sigh before finally raising his gaze to meet his father. The hatred behind his eyes is only too clear. "-but you went and sent away Nathalie. Why'd you do it? Just cause she didn't fit in with your plans?"

He's expecting a harsh response, a reminder that Nathalie is nothing more to the family than just another member of staff. That or something a little harsher. He knows that the two of them hadn't exactly been on good terms the last time that they had met. The young man waits patiently, expecting to hear just a handful of words which he knows will trigger him, give him all the reason he needs to lose control and lash out.

Instead, to the teen's considerable surprise, Gabriel remains silent. He lowers his head, averting his gaze. In doing so, his attention ends up falling on the framed picture on the boy's dresser. Had he been in the room a week or so earlier, he would doubtlessly have realized that a few of the pictures have been removed. Destroyed or merely hidden away some place? Adrien himself was yet to decide about that much. There can be no denying as he contemplates the image that it's apparent that the two of them care for one another, probably more. There's some shame behind the man's eyes as he turns back to see his son.

"I didn't have a choice. I realize it must have hurt you and-" His voice trails off for a moment as he considers his son for a moment. "I'm sorry."

The only reaction that he gets is to be stared at as if it's the first time that Adrien's ever laid eyes on him. The teen seems… Puzzled, perhaps a little bit surprised. An apology isn't something that he'd ever backed on receiving from a man as proud as his father, especially not on a subject like the one which they were currently addressing. He blinks a few times, struggling to process just what he's heard and unsure how to react.

After a while, Adrien simply turns away. He does so comparatively brusquely. It's a clear message that he wants to be left alone.

Gabriel lingers however, reluctant to leave the young man alone. He can see just how tired his son is, that the teen has lost weight and is nearing his limit. As Adrien rests his head against the windowsill under the concerned gaze of his kwami. Only Macaroon seems to be blissfully unaware of the weight of the situation as he rests his head on his owner's lap enjoying receiving a scratch behind his ears. His father allows him a few more moments, perhaps hoping that his presence might be enough to break through some of the barriers and appeal to the young man. So he waits, in vain. Finally, the man lets out in a sigh:

"Please Adrien… You're not well."

"So now you care about me?" There's a cutting tone to his voice.

"This isn't healthy." His father pleads with him.

The teen remains silent. He lowers his head ever-so-slightly. Is he acknowledging that his father is correct? He must be able to sense that his current course of action is destructive, just as much for himself as for those around him. He shifts but keeps his gaze on his father.

They stay like that for a while. Everything that has happened and has been said weighs both heavily and silently between the two of them. It's hard to judge if there's still any anger present, it's not being openly expressed. The resentment is clear however. To this particular problem, there is no miracle cure to be found. Gabriel can see that now. No amount of talking or reasoning with his son is going to be enough to convince Adrien to give it another try or even to contemplate forgiving them. Even tolerating his parents - or as he likely sees them his tormentors' - presence is proving to be a sizable challenge.

Finally, his patience wears thin and this time, the teen raises his voice, letting the rage which dwells beneath shine through for a few instants:

"Get out of my room."

Upon hearing the order being actually formulated and directed to him in such a fashion, Gabriel tenses up. He looks to his son in a manner which practically pleas with the young man to stop this but only for a second. The man knows that this isn't going to get him anywhere and as a result yields. He leaves silently without another word. There isn't the sense that this is an argument, there's no ill-feeling behind his departure, only bitter regret. Before he leaves, he can't help but afford his son one last look.

The young man pays him no heed. He's gone back to focusing on the world outside. He presses his forehead against the cool glass, finding something soothing in the chilling sensation. Plagg waits until he's certain that Gabriel has left the room and keeps his gaze on the door just for that little bit longer, keen to ensure that they aren't about to get another visit. When he's confident that they're going to be left alone, he floats over to his partner and settles on the lad's shoulder. He doesn't get much of a reaction. No doubt, once more Adrien's drifted off to whatever place he's spending so much time at the moment.

The kwami knows that it's unlikely they'll do much chatting tonight. No doubt he'll just want to take the dog for a walk and then call it a day. He's shutting himself off more and more, no doubt it's some form of self-preservation instinct. Plagg doesn't question it. Instead, he chooses to attempt to comfort his partner to the best of his ability:

"Not long now kid… You just need to be patient a little while longer..."