Chat Noir, who had slept for two hours at best and dreamed of dark rooms filled with butterflies, woke to hushed whispers and hissing. At first, he thought he was not totally awake, and that he was only imagining things. He was exhausted. His lips were glued together. His muscles felt like lead. But, just as he thought he had dreamed it all and prepared to close his eyes and return to sleep, he heard Plagg's voice again.
"Well then maybe your little candy dispenser should try harder", the Kwami was saying. "We need master Fu."
Adrien looked around, finding his bedroom empty. The voices seemed to come from outside. He slipped out of bed and inched closer to the window he had left open that night, after coming back from Hawk Moth's lair.
No one but the Miraculous holders knew of master Fu's existence.
"We will find him", a female voice replied. "And he will handle this. I don't think he realizes the conundrum the seal would land us in."
Seal?
The boy peeked out and spotted Plagg, who was hovering a few inches under his feet, talking to what looked like red sparkles.
"I told him those seals were as stupid an idea as his face . I'd rather be a dark god than an useless one."
"It was for everyone's safety", the red light replied in a pleading voice. "Including yours."
"Wah, wah, wah. Worked out so well."
"How is the boy holding up?"
"He went straight to bed when we came back and forgot to feed me , that's how he is holding up."
Adrien jumped and heaved himself through the window frame so he could talk to the Kwami. The red sparkles vanished, and a ladybug flew away, vanishing into the distance. Plagg looked up, startled.
"You're awake."
"Was that… That was Tikki, wasn't it?" Adrien asked.
He knew the name of Ladybug's Kwami, though he had never seen her. His partner had mentioned her on several occasions, as a benevolent, helpful and wise friend who sounded like Plagg's polar opposite. The boy had not known the two spirits were in contact, or even that Tikki knew who he was and where he lived.
Plagg huffed and flew back inside.
"Yes. I wanted to know if her silly little human had even tried to find Fu. He needs to come back and deal with all of this."
And here it was again: the argument that Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn't handle the situation. Plagg had been arguing about this for an hour that night, and had flat out refused to listen to Adrien's assurance that he was perfectly able to deal with what they had discovered. Sure, it was a lie, but the young hero was sure he could made it true with enough effort. The initial blow had been harsh, that was all.
"And what did Tikki say?"
"That the silly old man was probably out there fighting his own immortal enemy and that she couldn't find him."
So nothing had changed in… three hours.
"What was that about a seal?" Adrien asked, as the conversation between Tikki and the black cat had sounded ominous (mentions of becoming a dark god were a bit worrying).
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Just tell me! Or tell me why I can't be told! Please?"
Plagg yawned.
"I was just telling Tikki things would be simpler if I could tell you who Ladybug was, instead of us having to relay information."
"You know who she is?"
"Of course I know. I peeked. I always peek."
"She didn't want us to!"
Plagg shrugged, yawning again.
"Well I can't tell you anyway. That's the seal, we can't spill your secrets. I'd need the girl's express approval, or two other Kwami's. For everyone's safety, wah wah wah. Here I am playing carrier pigeon when I could be napping."
"And, err, the part about becoming a 'dark god'?"
"Figure of speech. Are we getting breakfast any time soon? I'm starving."
"Plagg."
"Starving."
"Plaaaagg."
"Starving."
###
The 'dark god' mystery was never elucidated.
Adrien had been sitting at the breakfast table for three minutes, and had just barely given Plagg a piece of cheese when they heard approaching footsteps. The Kwami vanished. Adrien froze, stomach twisting. He did not hear the clicking of heels, meaning the person about to enter the room was not Nathalie.
He looked down at his plate and pretended to focus on his untouched food.
Gabriel walked in.
"Good morning, Adrien", he said.
"Good morning, Father", the boy replied, praying for the man not to notice his anxiety.
He peeked up, forcing a smile on his face, but knowing full well that grimace would convince no one. Thankfully, Gabriel was distracted. He was looking around, frowning, and quite a lot more nervous than usual.
"Have you seen Nathalie?" he asked. "I can't find her."
"I haven't", Adrien replied, surprised.
Nathalie was never late.
For a second or so, the boy was worried, then he saw his father wince. It was the distinct, unmistakable wince of someone who had seriously messed up. It was not an expression one associated with Gabriel Agreste.
"Maybe there's traffic", Adrien commented, voice strangled.
"That is a possibility", his father said, his tone unconvinced.
He took his phone out of his pocket and walked to the dinner table, sitting next to his son. He stared down at his phone, and not at the teenage boy drenched in cold-sweat seated inches to his right. He made a call, still holding the phone in front of him. The phone was not showing a picture, but "N. Sancoeur" in big black letters, above a green phone icon. The call went to voicemail. So did the next, not a minute later.
Gabriel pursed his lips.
"Maybe she slept in", Adrien said.
"That is also a possibility", his father replied.
The young hero studied his face. He looked tired, and agitated, but there was nothing on his features that screamed 'supervillain'. On the contrary, he looked more human than usual. He was chewing the inside of his cheeks and drumming his fingers on the table. If his son had shown such a blatant display of nervousness, he would have been chastised.
"Did-" Adrien started, hesitant. "Did the two of you have a fight?"
Here. The cat was out of the bag. Mister Agreste, world-renowned stylist, would never have argued with his assistant, so the question was clear. Adrien had planned to wait for his father to reveal his secrets, or maybe to see how long it would take. Maybe it had been a bit of a test but, for the most part, Adrien did believe had the right to chose when and how he wanted the news to be broken. Then again, next to the Hawk Moth thing, his relationship with Nathalie now seemed like a trivial matter.
Gabriel's eyes widened. He took a second to process the question, then slowly turned to Adrien. He pursed his lips, shoulders moving back, muscles tensing in a flight reflex. He kept his expression neutral.
He swallowed.
"How long have you known?"
"A few weeks", Adrien replied, looking away. "Not that long."
His father clicked his tongue and bit his lower lip. He took a deep breath.
"How?"
Adrien nearly replied that he had seen them kissing, then he remembered that they only ever did that behind locked doors, away from prying eyes. If he hadn't been spying, he would never have known.
"You are closer", he explained. "I mean… Physically closer. There used to be at least an arm's distance between you, at any time. Now, sometimes, you touch her shoulder. The back of your hand brushes the back of hers. You find excuses to look at her tablet so you can bump into her..."
His father listened to him with increasing shock, and ended up chuckling. He cleared his throat, pressing a hand to his lips.
"Hands somewhere on her person whenever… I am an idiot", he muttered.
His son blinked, wondering what he was missing.
"I made the same observations about someone else a few days ago", Gabriel explained, regaining his composure. "And I came to the same conclusion."
He cleared his throat again, then shook his head.
"We would have told you in time. I didn't expect you'd notice. We tried to keep it quiet."
Adrien nodded.
"Of course", he murmured.
There was a lull in the conversation. He felt his father's eyes study him.
"We would have", Gabriel insisted. "I didn't intend for it to be a dark secret. There was just no point telling you about it yet."
Adrien looked up, startled. There was not the slightest hint of guilt on his father's face, not even of doubt. As a matter of fact, he was confident, as if he had been asked an easy question.
"Romantic matters are handled differently depending on one's age", he continued, "Teenagers fall in love first, and then they stumble their way through flirting and dating, handling their problems as they come. Adults… Adults go about it the other way around. They are cautious. They have done the stumbling and falling before, so they start by testing the waters and making sure there will not be unsurmountable barriers along the way. Until it's all figured out, until you are sure you can build something lasting… there is no point sharing the news. There is no point bringing someone else's feelings and expectations into the equation."
"You are saying you didn't want to tell me because you it's not serious with Nathalie?"
Gabriel winced.
"Not quite as callously. What I meant is… It's such an important change. It's not bringing someone new into my life, but in yours too. It would have been irresponsible to get your hopes up - or to hurt you, more likely - without being certain the relationship was meant to last."
Adrien mulled over that. Strange how, every time his father was willing to open up, there was something worse concealed on the side, like a secret lair filled with magical artefacts and butterflies. The heart to heart conversations did not feel nearly as important as they should have.
"Do you want it to last?"
Gabriel pinched his lips, frowning.
"I don't think it's appropriate to discuss such a perso-"
He caught the expression on his son's face, went silent, and sighed.
"I don't know ", he admitted. "And I'd rather not discuss this further until I do. Please do not take that as a sign I don't think you can handle the conversation."
Adrien gestured in frustration.
"WHY? Why do you have to keep everything to yourself like that? Why do you keep keeping secrets?"
Gabriel glared at him.
"Do not raise your v-"
He groaned.
"There is no why ", he said, his tone carefully controlled. "I discuss things when they are ready to be discussed."
"Or when you are ready to discuss them."
Adrien's father glared at him. The teenager glared back.
"Or is that the same thing?" he spat.
Gabriel stood, pushing his chair back into place.
"I see this conversation will not get us anywhere, and I really don't appreciate your tone", he said, looking at the table rather than at Adrien. He walked to the door. "I should be at the office by now. Please check your schedule and try to follow it. I don't know if Nathalie will come to work today."
Adrien gaped at him, the pattern he had seen time and time again suddenly too glaring to be ignored.
"You are a coward", he said, his realization escaping his lips just as it occurred to him.
Gabriel tensed.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are a coward . All of that disapproval, all of that criticism, it's just so you can run away from the conversations you don't like. You make the other person feel like it's their fault, but you are running away. You are a coward ", the boy repeated.
His father tried to stare him down, but Adrien was not about to let himself be subdued.
"Why is Nathalie not returning your calls?" he asked, arms crossed. "What have you done?"
Gabriel straightened up.
"It is none of your business, and childish displays of rebellion are unseemly, Adrien. Have a nice day", he finished, leaving the room.
He closed the door behind him.
###
Nathalie's doorbell rang.
It either meant that the building was on fire, or that Gabriel had decided to come to check if she had left the country. No one ever visited her. Whoever it was had managed to make it through the building's doors and to go straight to her floor, too.
Quite frankly, she hoped there was a fire.
Signing, she extracted herself from her bed, walked into her living room, and waited to see if the visitor would ring the doorbell again.
He did.
She opened the door, in her pyjamas and slippers, hair braided, with no layer of powder and concealer on her face make her feel human.
"I'm sick", she told Gabriel as soon as she recognized his suit, before he could greet her. She didn't even look at his face. "I called in sick."
"I know. I was told. I had something to return to you", he said, handing her a black plastic box.
It was labelled 'paperclips'. She took it, still not looking at him, and opened it.
It contained what looked like a hundred bobby pins.
Her brain was foggy, she was paying the price for that bottle of wine, and she had not slept enough. The only thought she managed to formulate was "therapy".
"You kept them."
"I might have lost one or two", Gabriel commented, with slight humor.
"Please take them and go away", she replied, shoving the box back into his hands.
He closed it and slipped between her and the doorframe to get inside, before she could react.
"I wanted to apologize about earlier", he casually said, just as if he had not just forced his way in uninvited. "I left knowing what conclusion the events would lead you to, and I feel like I should… correct it."
Nathalie closed the door. It gave her an excuse to turn her back to him, for a few seconds.
"You mean I should have drawn conclusions from your owning a magical watch that contains some shiny butterfly, and vanishing when the city is under attack? I don't see what you mean, sir."
"I tend to do that, you know? There's a conversation I don't want to have, where the issue could be solved by talking , and I still flee."
She turned to him. He had left the box on a cabinet, and was looking down at his hands, twisting his fingers. Anyone else would have looked sheepish, but he was pensive.
"Are we having the conversation, then?" she asked.
"No."
Nathalie, aggravated, took a deep breath.
"As you wish."
"I came to talk about that obvious conclusion. Namely, to deny being him . I know the evidence points in that direction, but it can be misleading."
"' It's not what you think '. Really."
Gabriel joined her. He did not touch her, but his hand hovered inches from her hip.
"Really."
She pursed her lips.
"And you won't discuss what the correct conclusion is, of course."
His hand did land on her hip. It burned her through the flannel of her pyjama.
"If I discussed the correct conclusion, then 'plausible deniability' would fly right out the window, for a start. On top of that, you can't discuss everything with everyone, and there are things I can't tell you. You have covered for me for fifteen years, and I trust you, but this is not a question of trust."
Nathalie was still trying not to meet his eyes. She looked down at his arm.
"It is about Alice, isn't it?"
His hand moved away from her hip and balled into a fist. He hid it behind his back.
"Partly", he murmured. "Do you believe me, when I say this is not what it looks like?"
"Does it matter?"
"I wish I could say it doesn't."
She shook her head.
"I'm too much of a liar to trust you on your word only, Gabriel."
He nodded, reaching up to brush a stray hair away from her face.
"I suppose that's fair."
Nathalie sighed. He bit his lower lip, and took a step back.
"I'll be on my way", he said. "Let me know if you plan to return to work, or-"
"I was about to make coffee. Do you want some?"
###
Two hours was a long, long time to sit on the floor in front of a flower pot, but Adrien took his moping seriously. He glowered at the flower pot and seethed until his father returned home, and paid no mind to his backside's protests.
He had turned the house upside down.
He had discovered more than he had set out to find.
At eight in the evening, he finally heard the limo come back and park in the courtyard. A minute later, his father unlocked the doors and walked into the mansion's hallway. He spotted Adrien. He paused, then closed the door, tilting his head to the side.
"Adrien. Please do not sit on the floor", he said, his tone halfway between confusion and disappointment.
The teenager did not look at him, but pointed at the network of silvery lines that decorated the black flower pot.
"That", he announced, "is a butterfly."
Gabriel took three steps forward and turned to the pot.
"I think it is", he commented.
"It's also on the doors, and on the walls, and everywhere else."
"Adrien, our last name is the name of a butterfly species. Why does it seem to come as a surprise that they are plastered on every surface of our ancestral home?"
The teenager blinked, startled. He had totally forgotten about the name. In his defense, it was quite the obscure piece of trivia. He still felt like an idiot. He shook his head, and turned to his father. Gabriel was puzzled, and irritated, but Adrien still noticed some nervousness in the way he held himself.
"You also sign your art with a black butterfly", Adrien pointed out, watching his reaction.
His father clenched his jaw, while trying to look unfazed.
" Yes . Once upon a time, I was a fourteen year old aspiring designer, and I thought it was a great idea. Drop it. And, for the love of god, stop sitting on the floor. "
"I'm going to ask you something. Just one question. I'd like an honest answer. I'm not going to get angry, I'm not going to panic, I just…" - Adrien breathed in and lowered his eyes. - "I just want to know."
"Adrien, look at me ", his father commanded, voice hoarse.
The boy did. Gabriel had paled, his expression the closest to horror his son had ever seen it.
" No ", he said once their eyes met.
"A-are you Hawk Moth?" Adrien exclaimed at the same time.
Gabriel stilled. He pinched his lips, absorbing the blow, and composed himself.
"It's-", he started, voice shaky. - "It's an interesting theory, and I'm sure it has it's merits. Do you think I am?"
By that last question, he had recovered, and his tone was mildly curious at best. Adrien had seen how hard the accusation had hit him, however. He had his answer. He also knew there would be no repairing the harm he had just done.
"I, no, I…"
"I am not", Gabriel said, adjusting his coat, and walking to the stairs. "Though I see why you would be suspicious."
Adrien, fumbling for words, watched him climb the stairs without looking back. The boy jumped to his feet.
"Father", he called. "Father, please, I didn't-"
Gabriel merely nodded, walking into his office. He closed the door. Adrien heard the lock turn.
###
Gabriel had stayed for coffee.
They had not discussed the 'supervillain' matter - cowards, the two of them, and secretive cheats on top of that - preferring to go for small talk about the weather and work. Nathalie's boss had 'freed his day'. When she had asked how he had accomplished that feat (she had taken his editing privileges away on the calendar app), he had told her how he had tricked Jagged Stone into compliance.
"I told him I was in trouble with a beautiful woman, which was very effective. And then I begged for advice, which had him all but order me to take the day off. He's now in Stéphanie's very capable hands. She can introduce the test garments and deal with his suggestions."
"Did he give you tips?"
"Twenty minutes worth of them."
"And what was his advice?"
"I have no idea. I don't even listen to him when his opinion is relevant ."
Two minutes into that conversation, she had noticed he was playing with the hair tie that had been, up to that point, holding her braid together.
They had discussed his undergoing six months of therapy, at the age of thirteen, so his mother's cigarettes would stop vanishing straight from her hands. Gabriel had uttered the words "I always had terrible impulse control". Nathalie had stared at him in disbelief, wondering what his point of reference was.
He had laid secrets at her feet, as an offering to thank her for not asking about the real secret, the dangerous one, the one that would most likely land them both in trouble.
Someday, she would gather the nerve to question him, and force his hand into explaining what was going on. Another day. For all the mystery and gloom, after their talk, she was mostly sure he was telling the truth. His reaction had not been that of an evil supercriminal. He had not threatened her. He had not killed her. He had merely been concerned about what she thought.
From what she had seen in the morning, murder was the last thing on his mind. Mostly, he focused on keeping his hands away from her. As far as dark plans were concerned, that was fairly insignificant.
Then, after deciding he had to go to work after all, and putting his coat on, and walking out the door, and saying goodbye, he had informed her that Adrien had found out about their relationship. In passing. He had promised to handle the problem , and provided no explanations on how the boy had figured things out or what his opinion was.
Nathalie had spent the afternoon working from home (because what was she supposed to do with her days but work?) before deciding that a talk about Adrien was definitely in order.
She walked into the mansion at nine in the evening, hoping she could slip into Gabriel's office unnoticed. She knew he was in there: the light was on. She had hoped for stealthy race up the stairs, but paused in the hallway when she found Adrien standing in front of his father's door, a fist still raised to knock.
He looked distraught.
What mess have they landed themselves in this time?
The boy ran down the stairs.
"Nathalie, thank god you're here."
She looked at him, then at Gabriel's door, then back to the child.
"What's wrong?" she asked, knowing full well the crestfallen expression on Adrien's face was a sign of disaster.
"I… I said something to Father, and… I said something horrible , Nathalie, and I'm not sure I can fix it. He won't talk to me."
She grimaced. She couldn't help it. She already had one child to babysit. She did not need Gabriel to act like a moping toddler on top of that.
Adrien winced, hurt (of course ), and she forced herself to appear caring and warm, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"What did you tell him?"
"It's going to sound insane… I-I accused him of being Hawk Moth."
"I… see", she replied to fill the silence.
Her stomach had twisted a little. It was one thing for Gabriel to hear the question from her , but from his son?
Adrien was frantic.
"I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to fix this, but he won't open the door, he won't even answer when I knock. I don't know what to do ."
Extroverts. Gabriel would avoid talking to his last breath. The easiest way to fix it was to leave him alone.
Nathalie inhaled then sighed, hiding her worry.
"I will talk to him", she promised, getting a few bills and a credit card out of her wallet. She pushed them into Adrien's hands. "Call your friends. Have a nice evening out. Be home by midnight."
"What if… What do… What if he won't let you in either?"
She held her keys up. The boy's eyes went wide.
"That would, err, work."
"Now stop worrying because your father is acting like a child, and go have fun. I will take care of this."
"He's not acting like a child! He's hurt!"
Nathalie rolled her eyes.
"He has you panicking and pulling your hair out because he can't handle conversation. That is childish. Parents are not supposed to let their feelings weigh upon their children, no matter the circumstances. He knows that full well."
Adrien frowned, his expression turning cold and defensive.
He looked so much like his mother it was uncanny.
He controlled himself, however, lowering his eyes. The anger faded, replaced by sadness.
"Do you care about him?" he murmured.
"I do. If I did not, I would not have to call him out when he does this ", she replied, pointing at Gabriel's office door.
Adrien nodded.
"Please tell him I didn't mean it", he murmured. "Tell him I'm sorry."
"I will. Now, let's get the car, have you driven to… Nino's? That rapper boy? He's your favorite, isn't he?"
The teenager gaped.
"I will cover for you", she said, pushing him out the door and texting their driver. "Also, I want an update on where you are and with whom every thirty minutes, are we clear?"
"Yes, Nathalie."
"And you are to be home by midnight."
"I will be."
"Good."
Ten minutes later, once sure Adrien had agreed with a meeting place with his friend and was on his way there, she walked back into the mansion. She climbed the stairs, knocked on the office's door, and got no answer.
"Gabriel."
"It's open", he said, which meant he had watched her send his son away and unlocked his door while she was outside.
She walked in, locking the door between her. Gabriel was sitting at his desk, surrounded by dozens of sketches. He was still drawing, and had not looked up. His face was inscrutable, but gaunt.
"Stéphanie emailed me Stone's comments", he announced. "I've been working on the requested changes, I'm nearly done. I'll need you to scan them and email them to him. With some luck, he'll be able to review them tonight."
Nathalie reached up, running her fingers over her bun, pulling her hairpins out. She crossed the room, crushing fragments of porcelain on her way. A vase was missing from Gabriel's desk, and she spotted the remains of it in the trash can.
Once next to Gabriel, she pushed his drawings off the corner of desk, and sat on the spot she had just freed.
He frowned.
"What are-"
She dropped her bobby pins on the sketch he was working on.
###
Adrien had spent the evening with Nino, his best friend having managed to convince his parents that catching a movie that late at night was totally a good idea.
Nino, being Nino, had quickly realized Adrien did not want to talk, so he had chattered, and chattered, and chattered. Music talk, and jokes, and a complete review of the movie Adrien had pretended to watch. Some fawning about Alya carefully concealed behind a summary of his day.
It had been distracting, and Adrien was grateful for that. He adored Nino.
He still returned home ten minutes before midnight, to find Nathalie waiting for him. She was sitting in the small sofa next to the stairs, reading something on her tablet. It was like any normal day.
He approached, scared and uneasy, waiting for her to notice him.
"Your father is waiting for you in his office", she told him as he fidgeted his way to her.
She barely looked up, and was bored and distant when she did. Like on any normal day.
"T-thank you, Nathalie", Adrien murmured, turning to the staircase.
"Did you enjoy your evening?"
He froze and blinked, his eyes returning to her.
"It was nice, thank you."
She nodded, and focused on her screen again. Adrien waited for a second or so, for his surprise to subside, then walked to his father's office as fast as he could without running inside the house. The door was ajar.
"Come in", Gabriel said as soon as he noticed his presence.
Adrien did, swallowing hard.
"Father."
"I'd like to apologize for earlier. My reaction was… I overreacted. I am sorry."
"W-what I said was awful, Father. Not to mention stupid. I had no reason to believe-"
"Of course you did. You have no idea of who I am, which is entirely my fault. Do you know what Marinette told me the other day?"
The teenager shook his head.
His father stood and joined him, putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him to the window. He looked up and stared at the night sky.
"She told me that you know me so little that what other people say is starting to fill in the blanks."
Adrien reeled at that. He knew Marinette pulled no punches when she had a battle to fight - she had proved it time and time again in class, even if she was shy with him - but that was harsh. Harsh, and not totally untrue. He had started to believe Ladybug's theory over his own opinion of his father.
Still… It was not a pleasant thing to hear, and Gabriel did not tolerate disrespect. Adrien was surprised Marinette had walked out of that meeting with all her feathers intact.
He studied his father's profile. He didn't look angry, just tired.
"That's not true, you know", Adrien lied.
"Don't try to spare me. I am just as bad as she said. All I've done for the last five years is put distance between us. All I've done for my entire life is put distance between me and people. I haven't tried nearly hard enough to fix that flaw. I mean, I've been accused of being a supervillain by two people in a single day. There's no denying I have failings…" - His hand squeezed Adrien's shoulder. - "I promise I'll try harder."
His son had no words to say to that, so he hugged him. Gabriel tensed, then breathed in, then relaxed, and then wrapped an hesitant arm around Adrien. There was some awkward shoulder patting.
Adrien ended up taking a step back, not to torture his father for too long.
"Thank you", he said with a smile.
"There's nothing to thank me for", Gabriel murmured, tousling his hair. "Now go to bed. It's late."
His son acquiesced, running a hand through his own hair, and walked to the door. He stopped on his way out.
"Good night, Father."
"Good night, Adrien."
The boy closed the door as he left and traipsed away. He was startled by the clicking of heels. Nathalie, down the stairs, was collecting her things.
She stopped and turned to him.
"How did it go?" she asked, adjusting the strap of her purse.
"It went… well", Adrien replied. "Are you leaving?"
"It's getting late and I have to get up early tomorrow. See you in the morning."
He gaped, understanding all of a sudden that she was not going to discuss something with her father before leaving: she had been waiting for him to finish his talk with Gabriel. She had wanted to check on him .
"See you in the morning", he repeated. "Good night, Nathalie. Thank you."
She gave a sharp nod and quietly walked out.
###
Curiosity killed the cat, but they had nine lives.
Chat Noir needed answers. He wanted to know his father better. He wanted to understand him and, while Gabriel was trying to get closer… he would never be forthcoming with his secrets.
Which meant a visit to 'Pat Messmer, lawyer' was in order.
Adrien had gone to bed, waited one hour, and slipped out of the house to transform. He had been barely a block away when Ladybug had called him to know where he had been all day and evening. He had told her he would be patrolling, and had forgotten about that. He had reassured her and apologized, then politely cut the conversation short.
After that, he had made his way to the fifty-second floor of that office building and opened the window he had broken on his first visit.
He found the secret room just like they had left it: notes and drawings everywhere, butterflies in aquariums, and magical artefacts everywhere. He discovered Jalil's pendant on one of the tables, as well as an umbrella that looked very much like Aurore Borell's, wrapped in black cloth. Chat picked up a stack of notes and started reading.
His ring beeped.
"Stop it, Plagg."
There was a second beep, not sixty seconds after the first, but right after his words.
"I'm not leaving."
The beeping ceased. His ring returned to normal.
"Thank you."
As it turned out, the notes he had grabbed were about Kim, and contained a great deal of magical jargon. If Gabriel was not a supervillain, he had to be a wizard. Three entire pages were filled with a nearly untranslatable analysis of Dislocoeur's reversal spell.
Adrien went to check the notes on Ladybug next. The sketches of her were accurate down to the amount and location of her spots (Chat noir had once counted them. Twice.), and her most common moves were illustrated step by step. Everything about her was documented: her height, her approximate weight, how high she could jump, how fast she could run. Her patrol routes were listed.
This in an unsecured room that had been located by two teenagers. Adrien folded the sheet and shoved it into his pocket.
Chat Noir moved on to his father's files about him . Those notes were very similar to those about Ladybug: the pages were organised in the same fashion, with sketches and a description of his costume, then of his combat moves. The annotations contained more than a few "idiot" and "stupid".
Thanks, dad.
Nothing explained why the moves were "stupid" either. It was just written there, next to step by step descriptions of his motions.
His patrols were listed too.
He paled and took that sheet too, understanding only too well that if Hawk Moth had managed to piece that much information together, he and Ladybug would have been dead ten times over.
He flipped to the next page and found random observations on his behavior. 'Besotted with the girl'. 'Kind, favors children (exploitable flaw), self-esteem issues, insecure with overcompensation'. 'Self-sacrificing: will shield the girl regardless of available alternatives. Fails to use ranged weapon to fend the threats off. Poor reflexes.'
Thanks again , dad.
'Will get them both killed.'
Chat Noir put the notes back on the table.
None of this was nice. None of this was pleasant. But it was just information, compulsively collected. His father could have slaughtered them with half of what he knew about them.
There was no-
He heard a noise. He didn't recognize it at once, but it seemed to come from outside of the room, from another part of the building.
The elevator.
He dropped everything and hurried to the stairs, pushing the trapdoor back into place. He was climbing through the window when the door opened. He looked back and, for a second, his eyes met his father's. Gabriel gaped at him, bewildered.
Chat Noir slipped out of the window.
"WAIT", he heard his father call. "WAIT!"
The young hero just climbed out of sight, figuring that he could get to the roof and then pick a course of action. He rolled over the roof's railing and sat down, his heart thumping, nearly hyperventilating. He heard a scraping noise behind him. He turned back and saw Gabriel heave himself above the railing. His father dropped to the floor and immediately stood up, on wobbly legs, with no shoes, his white suit torn and stained. He muttered a curse, then raised an arm.
"W-wait", he asked again.
He had climbed out of that window. He had climbed out of a window on the last floor of a fifty-two floors high building, and climbed to the roof.
"Please wait", he repeated, taking a step closer to a bewildered Adrien. "I need to talk to you."
Chat Noir took a step back. His mind was reeling, and he couldn't have replied if he had tried. He was breathing too fast. His throat was clenched.
He couldn't process what was happening at all.
"My wife", Gabriel said. "She was one of you. She was a Miraculous holder. I need to know what happened to her. I need to talk to Tikki."
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