Miss Dupain-Cheng's voice carried, much to Nathalie's regret. She had better things to do with her time than to listen to a teenager's tantrum, and it was difficult to deduce where a mine was hidden when you could barely hear yourself think. The young girl sure had a lot to say and, despite the thick closed door, Nathalie could not have missed a single word of her tirade.
"No, he didn't tell me anything!" the girl was yelling. "He would never complain about you. Not to us, not to anyone, not even to you. But you are not there to see the look on his face every time you ignore one of his calls, and every time you skip a school event, and every time you make excuses not to be present."
Her voice raised and raised, as shouting at Gabriel was akin to shouting at a brick wall. He met her accusations with quiet answers. Nathalie couldn't make his exact words out, but she knew they were dripping with a politeness that might as well have been British.
Nathalie clicked on a mine and watched the twenty remaining bombs appear on the minesweeper board. She sighed. Not that she had been on her way to beat her own record, on the contrary, but she still felt mildly irritated at her mistake. Then again, how was she supposed to concentrate?
"Do you realize he knows you so little that what other people say about you is starting to fill in the blanks?" the teenager was claiming. "How can you even stand it? How could any parent stand it?"
There was no answer from Gabriel, or none that could be heard through the door. Miss Dupain-Cheng argued some more, to no avail. He was not about to give her the satisfaction of raising his voice, nor of confessing his sins, and she had vastly overestimated her ability to convince and to shame. She was facing a man who could endure Aria Rossignol's explosive outbursts (and eardrums-shattering soprano) without blinking. People had attempted to threaten, blackmail, and trick him out of his company. He had faced lawyers, he had faced businessmen, he had faced policemen set on arresting him for the murder of his wife. A fifteen year old girl's speech was not going to phase him.
"... to go", Nathalie heard him say.
There was a silence, followed by another very articulate, very eloquent tirade from Marinette. It contained neither profanity nor respect. Then, the girl opened the door, stopping on her way out to turn to Gabriel.
"I know Nino tried to talk to you and he was nice about it. And now you've seen me, and you can expect more of his friends to come knock on your door, because we all see what you are doing and we won't stand by and let it happen", she snapped.
"Have a nice day, miss", Gabriel replied, his tone courteous.
The teenager did not lose it, but you could see the explosions going off in her mind, through the grimace on her face and the bulging eyes. She stormed out of Nathalie's office, and the assistant heard her stomp away.
A minute went by.
Gabriel burst out laughing.
###
"That brings you back", he commented after nearly three minutes of uninterrupted laughter, his voice still straying to the side of hilarity. "That… brings you back."
Nathalie, who had walked into the room with a fresh pot of coffee and a cup, poured him a drink and did not comment.
"Alice used to have fits like that", Gabriel said. "Mostly at me. Just. Like. That."
"I know", his assistant murmured, as he was not listening to her anyway.
"My son doesn't have a chance", he continued, nearly giggling. "That poor boy."
"You think he fancies her?"
"As evidenced by his hands being somewhere on her person whenever I spot them together, yes."
He breathed in. His eyes lost focus and he sighed, his mirth evaporating. A moment later, he was so deep in his thoughts that he nearly did not notice Nathalie slipping away. From the look on his face, the thoughts were unpleasant at best.
"She's going to regret this", he remarked. "Sorely."
"Then she should have thought things through a little better, sir", Nathalie replied.
He pursed his lips, staring into the distance. His only answer was a nod.
###
Adrien walked into the workshop at noon, after a morning spent fencing. It had been the best part of the last twenty-four hours. After that disaster of a talk with his father, he had transformed and spent the entire night patrolling. He had done thatalone , as Ladybug was nowhere to be found. He had not been so sure he wanted to see her, not so soon, not in that state, so it had probably been for the best.
The night had been uneventful, with no Akuma attacks, no robberies, no fires, nothing to spend his energy on. So he had raced across the city, from roof to roof. He had tried to enjoy every jump and every freefall. He had climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower and down. He had propelled himself above the city with his staff and taken in the sights. He had kept himself busy.
He had gone home in the morning to find his father gone. Adrien's absence had not been noticed.
Training had been a welcome distraction.
The first thing he noticed when he entered the workshop was the silence. The second were the whispers. The conversations were held in hushed tones. Everyone's eyes were turning to the corner of the room, where Marinette was packing the few things she had brought with her into her bag.
Adrien, not quite understanding what was going on at first, watched her say her goodbyes to the stylists and designers. She was leaving?
She exited the workshop through the opposite door, and he ran after her.
"Marinette?" he exclaimed, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She gasped and jumped away, as always when he was a bit too close.
He paid no attention to that. She was always startled. It passed quickly.
"What's happening? Why are you leaving? Has my father done something?" he asked in increasingly horrified tones.
It had to be about that lunch with Nino and Alya. Gabriel was probably furious - not that they had discussed it the previous evening - and had likely decided to rid Adrien's life of another 'bad influence'.
"N-No", she replied. Her voice grew firmer. "No. I quit."
" What? But why? You were so happy about the hats thing just yesterday! What happened?"
She took a deep breath, bracing herself, then deflated. She fidgeted for a while. He waited patiently, more and more concerned the more and more she looked about to flee. Then, she sighed.
"You will probably hear about it, so… I… I had words. With your father."
Adrien blinked, not quite understanding what she meant by that. It made no sense. Just the previous day, she had been telling him she loved his father's work.
" Words? "
Her eyes strayed to the side.
"I don't approve of… I don't like the way…"
She hesitated, paling as she fumbled for words, as if faced with a sudden realization she had not expected. Adrien easily understood what she was trying not to say, or to formulate in a way that would not offend him.
He tensed, his love and loyalty for his father surfacing back with a surge of anger, dark and cutting and defensive.
"Do you mean you argued with him about me ?" he asked, his voice polite but strained.
She had meant well.
"I…Yes."
" Why? "
She froze at his tone, and at the look on his face. She had not expected him to be angry, he knew that. She had been concerned. She had meant well , without taking the consequences into consideration. People said the road to hell was paved with good intentions. Wasn't that good enough a warning?
"I… Adrien, the way he treats you, it's not fair ", Marinette said.
He forced himself to remain calm. She had meant well. She barely knew him, and she had no idea what she was stepping into, but she had meant well.
"You don't know that", he pointed out. "You don't know my father. You barely know me. "
"I know enough", she replied in a soft voice. "It's not hard to notice how rarely you see him, and the way he cuts you from your friends. Y-"
"So you thought you'd swoop in to save the day?" he snapped. "What gives you the right? "
She blanched at that, taking a step back. She let go of her bag and fumbled to grab it before it hit the floor. Adrien did not help.
"You know nothing about my family", he continued, his voice cold as steel. "I appreciate your concern, Marinette, but you had no right to meddle."
His classmate stuttered, clutching her bag and the handful of sewing supplies that had fallen out of it.
"I… Adrien, I'm sorry ", she said, horrified and dumbfounded.
He shook his head, swallowing the anger down.
"Forget it", he mumbled. "Just forget it. You meant well."
"Adrien…"
"I should go", he told her, turning away as he talked.
Maybe his father was available. Maybe he could fix the damage his classmate had caused. He took one last look at her.
"I'm not sure I'll see you before September, so… Bye. Have a nice summer", he said, with a forced smile.
He didn't wait for her answer.
###
"Is my father available?" Adrien asked when he entered Nathalie's office, after politely knocking and waiting to be invited in.
He knew the answer was likely to be 'no', unless Gabriel wanted to roast him for associating with Marinette. He had to try to salvage the situation all the same. His classmate couldn't have picked a worse day to talk to his father. There was no way Gabriel could have calmed down since the previous evening and their argument about Ladybug. Considering how he had reacted to Nino's pleading for something as trivial as a birthday party, and that on a normal day, Adrien was terrified of how his father had taken being antagonized and yelled at by another of his friends. There would be hell to pay.
"He is waiting for you", Nathalie announced, raising her eyebrows by a thousandth of an inch, in a way that said nothing about her feelings on the topic, save for the fact that she had some .
Adrien swallowed. The lump in his throat made that hard.
"How angry is he?"
Nathalie's eyes shifted to the side as she thought about her answer. Half a second later, they returned to Adrien.
"I don't think you are in trouble", she said. "But he is waiting for you."
The teenager nodded, bracing himself. Waiting. His father had not even called him. He had not sent Nathalie to fetch him. He had just expected him to race to his office after discovering the news. Was it some kind of test?
Nathalie pressed a button on her interphone, letting Gabriel know about his son's presence and putting an end to the 'bracing'. All that was left to do was to walk into Gabriel's office and face the music, so that's what Adrien did.
His father was sitting at his drawing table, back turned to the entrance. He was adding the finishing touches to a design of a woman in a sunset themed dress, her outfit various shades of orange and violet. 'Finishing touches' was not the exact term. It looked like the drawing had been finished hours before. Gabriel was just adding visual noise.
"Sit", he invited, putting his pencils down and standing up.
Adrien dropped into one of the two chairs that faced his desk. Gabriel crossed the room and sat down into his own seat, leaning forward over his desk. He gave his son a long, assessing look.
"Calm down", he told Adrien. "You are not in trouble."
That was not as much of a relief as one would have thought. The boy's heart was still in shoes and his stomach in his throat.
"I… I don't know what Marinette said to you, Father, but please don't hold it against her. Please don't let it impact her future in fashion. She thought she was helping. I think I gave her the wrong idea, I'm so-"
"Calm. Down", Gabriel interrupted him, rolling his eyes. "I'm not about to ruin a teenage girl's life for having a tantrum. I believe she'll see the errors of her ways soon enough, if she has not already", he added with a pointed look. "I did give a call to her parents to let them know how disappointing her behavior was. They will handle the situation as they see fit."
Adrien cleared his throat, wondering if he had not been too harsh with Marinette, even though he was angry at her. His relation with his father was none of her business. It was one thing to have Nino try to be a good friend by begging for a party and some freedom, but Marinette was not nearly as close to Adrien, and she had no right to intrude in his personal life.
"What… What did she tell you, Father?"
What had she seen? What did she believe about him? What did the rest of his friends believe?
"Let us just say that she is very eloquent", Gabriel replied. "I don't think I have ever been this thoroughly insulted by a sentence that contained at least two 'with all due respect, sir', and the formula is usually code for 'let me politely call you an idiot'."
The humor in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. Adrien's eyes went wide, and he finally looked up. He caught the hint of a smile on his father's face.
Gabriel's smile faded when he saw he had Adrien's full attention.
"She made a few good points", he said, his own eyes straying to his desk, to focus on a box of paper clips. "We should talk."
"Father, I'm sure whatever she said was…"
"You should not hesitate to tell me when I'm pushing you too hard. You should not hesitate to tell me if you are unhappy, Adrien. I know I'm harsh. I know I have little time to spare. But I don't set out to make you miserable. I just want what is best for you. You know there is a lot more you need to be prepared for than most boys your age, hence the myriad of activities, but… Maybe we could make some adaptations."
"Adaptations?" Adrien repeated, so surprised by those words that he did not manage to form a real answer.
Of course, his father's first thought was to fix his schedule , but it was… something. Not nearly as good as an offer to spend time together, but it was a display of actual concern.
"Your Chinese is very good", Gabriel continued. "Maybe you don't need a lesson a week. Maybe you could drop… piano?"
"Father."
"Or maybe basketball, unless you like it."
"Father", Adrien cut in with a soft smile. "I don't mind the activities."
Gabriel froze. He stared at his son, slowly leaning back against his chair, a strange expression on his face. It was not totally dissimilar to horror. He had paled.
"You look so much like your mother that I keep forgetting you are nothing like her", he mused.
That stung, even if Adrien did not understand what his father meant by that. Gabriel raised a hand and started explaining his words.
"It was virtually impossible to hurt Alice", he said. "For a start, she had a stunningly high tolerance threshold before she even started to feel upset. And she would come down on you like a ton of bricks and call you out on your behavior before you could inflict actual damage. Her brand of honesty was not unlike miss Dupain-Cheng's, if I have to be honest."
There was a fondness in his voice, and amusement had creeped in as he talked. By his last words, that hint of a smile had returned.
"People thought - because she was so bubbly and optimistic - that your mother was weak ." - He pursed his lips. - "But being loving and sweet does not mean one is fragile. Her edges were just as sharp as mine. You… are softer", Gabriel continued, his own voice gentle. "You wear your heart on your sleeve. That is not a flaw, but it does make you more vulnerable."
Hearing his father talk about his mother was so rare that Adrien paid little to no attention to the parts of that explanation that pertained to him. He had only ever known Alice as soft and warmth and tender. She had been gentle and teasing in her interactions with Gabriel whenever their son was in the room, though Adrien knew things weren't as peaceful behind closed doors.
"She wore her heart on her sleeve too", he pointed out.
His father took a few seconds to think about his answer.
"Not in the way you do. It was easier for her to do, because her heart would not break. Every time you put others first, every time you show kindness, it costs you a little. Ultimately, it makes you stronger and braver than your mother, and she would be so proud of you."
To Adrien, those words were bittersweet. He would have made her proud, he would have… but Gabriel was using the past tense.
"You cancelled your trip", the boy murmured.
The first answer he got was silence, and the faint noise his father made when he sucked his lower lip in.
"I did", Gabriel said, leaning forward. "I did."
He reached over his desk to press his hand on Adrien's.
"I've arranged for videoconferences with the detectives, and I will meet with them in person next month."
"She is dead, isn't she?" the teenager asked, looking down at their hands.
His father was trembling, and shivered at little at those words. He squeezed Adrien's hand.
"I think we should… slowly accept that idea", he replied. "She would have come back by now. I wish I had another answer to give you. I wish I had an explanation to give you. But… Even without that… I think it's time to let go."
It hurt less to hear those words than to see his father lie about it, in the end, though Adrien's breath still caught in his chest. His eyes still went wet.
Minutes went by.
"Alright", he said. "Alright."
His father's hand had not left his.
Adrien swallowed and took a deep breath.
"M-modeling", he stuttered. "Modeling. I could do with a little less modeling. I mean, it's fun, but… I could use a little less of it."
"Fine. We're not canceling this month's shoots, just so you know."
"Alright. And… And maybe I could go fencing with you every now and then?"
There was another silence. Adrien looked up. His father looked puzzled.
"I'm not allowed", the man ended up saying, with an overly serious expression.
"What?"
"I just remembered… Your mother took offense because I would not let you win. When you were eight or so. I am not allowed ."
Adrien stared, and stared some more, and burst into laughter.
###