"You need a prescription," Adrien exclaimed.
Miss Lenoir, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching a rerun of Criminal Minds, jumped out of her bones.
The teenager, from his spot on Nathalie's sofa-bed, gestured at his phone.
"For Inderal. You need a prescription."
Anne-Laure stared at him.
"Also," he elaborated, "it's a preventive treatment. You take those pills every day."
Considering Nathalie had been gone for 'he had no idea how long' (he had drowsed off a little after she had left, without watching the time), he had gotten worried, then suspicious. Of course, he had googled the medication she had told them she needed. He had quickly realized how gullible he had been.
His companion groaned.
"Kiddo. Go to sleep."
"Are you listening to me?" he snapped. "She lied to us so she could sneak out!"
"'Course she did. I'm pretty sure she found your dad."
Adrien cringed. He couldn't help it. He was so frustrated he wanted to scream. This was like trying to have an important discussion with Plagg, except even Plagg had the decency to show a modicum of seriousness when the situation (really, really, really) warranted it. Anne-Laure's reaction to everything seemed to be 'whatever'.
"Then why didn't you say anything?" he yelled.
She shrugged.
"Because I trust Nathalie to handle your dad. He's not going to listen to anyone else, either."
Adrien wished, trully wished people would stop manipulating him and going behind his back. Was a little trust too much to ask for? Couldn't his family show a little faith in him, once in a blue moon? Couldn't they include him and let him help.
He breathed in. That wasn't fair to Nathalie. She had let him help. She had included him in her plans to help Gabriel overcome the darkness that was devouring him. Sure, she had not told Adrien everything she knew, but she had explained her reasoning her methods as best as she could.
"I could have gone," he sighed. "I could have talked to him."
Anne-Laure clicked her tongue.
"Now you know that's bull. You know Gabriel."
Adrien lowered his head.
He was not so sure of that. He had thought he did, back when he had sworn to Ladybug his father would never kill Hawk Moth. And now, mister Kubdel - mister Kubdel who, according to Anne-Laure herself, came from a long line of magical experts and had potentially been in possession of a Kwami tracking watch - was dead. Hawk Moth had not attacked all day.
Miss Lenoir pushed herself to her feet and threw herself on the sofa, crawling to the corner of it and wiggling until she found a comfortable position.
"Your father could never listen to you. Forget it. He's not wired like that."
She lit a cigarette. Inside. Adrien ran to the window to open it, then realized the cigarette had been a diversion to take the sting out of the words. He turned to her and watched her blow a ring of smoke.
"My father is a bit like that," she confessed. "Feels deep in his bones that a father must be a figure of authority and nothing else. Which is shitty parenting in oh so many ways, but it's an unshakable belief." - She grabbed a teacup from the coffee table and used it as an ashtray. - "Now, I'm not saying Gabriel can't see the light and change his ways, but it's not going to happen in the next twenty-four hours. So, as far as dealing with this particular crisis goes, you're out."
Adrien sat on the edge of the sofa, hunched over, feeling drained.
She gave him a side look.
"Not to mention no one will let you get a murder confession out of your dad so you can do your duty and call the cops on him."
The young hero paled, whirling to her.
"What? Are you suggesting he should get away with it?"
"I'm suggesting you stay out of it. There's a reason surgeons don't operate on their family and there's a reason baby vigilantes shouldn't handle their parents' crimes. Not when someone else can do that job."
"Alright. Alright ," he conceded. "But then why didn't you follow Nathalie? Why didn't you go? "
Miss Lenoir crushed her cigarette in the cup and put the cup away.
"Your dad, he's a one-person cat. Gets close to someone, lets no one else in. And he's head over heels in love with Nathalie. It doesn't take a genius to see that. You want someone to talk sense into him? It has to be her. He won't listen to anyone but her."
Adrien still questioned the wisdom of letting Nathalie go alone, because he questioned the veracity of the information she would bring back. She was a liar too. She would fudge the truth if it served her interests. As for said interests… Adrien was fairly sure she loved his father back. Would she help him get away with murder?
If she were to come back and announce that it was all a big misunderstanding, that mister Kubdel couldn't possibly be Hawk Moth, Adrien would be more than willing to believe her. It would fix everything.
"What if we're wrong?" he blurted out. "What if it was just a car crash and Father is just holed up somewhere, trying to find the real Hawk Moth?"
"That's a possibility," Anne-Laure replied, sounding like she didn't care much about the answer. "I suppose we'll know soon."
Adrien lowered his head so his hair would hide the look on his face.
"I suppose," he repeated.
He felt the woman's eyes on him. A minute went by.
"You know," she said, "I used to dislike Nathalie." - That got Adrien to turn, curiosity getting the better of him. - "Your mom hated her guts. So I hated her guts."
" Really? "
"I'm a good friend. Mostly. And Nathalie was untrustworthy. She stole candy from a toddler. She cheated her way into her job, she lied to cover her ass… Your mom was not a fan."
Adrien listened intently.
Anne-Laure kept talking.
"BUT! Let me point at exhibit A." - She gestured towards Plagg, who was snoring on a cushion and suckling on a piece of cheese in his sleep. It was more than a little disgusting. He had gooey cheese all over his face. - "Plagg loves her. Which means she treats you right. And I've watched her with you over the last two days, I've seen her protect you and comfort you and lose sleep over you, and it's clear to me that she cares about you a great deal. So I'm going to trust her to handle things right. Will you?"
He considered that then slowly nodded.
"Of course I will."
###
"I swear, Gabriel, I am trying to think of a way to get you out of this mess, but you have not made it easy," Nathalie ranted as she walked into the factory with the lunatic she happened to be involved with.
The panic she had kept bottled had been wiped away by the confirmation that Alim Kubdel was alive. It had left a gaping hole that was quickly being filled by an overwhelming urge to collapse into tears. As Nathalie had no intention to start sobbing like a little child, she focused on anger instead. She had enough of that to last a century. She did not think she would ever be able to remember the current circumstances and not to feel overwhelming fury.
Gabriel nodded and kept his head down. At least, he had the decency to look guilty, which saved him from being ripped apart by his companion.
"Where did you even find a body?" she snapped.
"I bought it."
"You… What? How does one even buy a body?"
"Through the 'physician' I used to work with when I was Chat Noir," Gabriel explained. "Not the kind of medical practitioner you would find in the phone book, obviously. He was contacted by a cancer patient who was looking into options for euthanasia. He put me in touch with the family."
"And you just, what, purchased the corpse?"
Gabriel acquiesced.
"That man's children and wife are set for life. And I wasn't about to steal a body, was I?"
" Of course not," Nathalie railed, rolling her eyes. "You are an upstanding citizen! You would only ever commit body snatching on living people! How considerate of you not to want to add grave-robbing to your ever-growing list of crimes. It would have looked dreadful next to the assault, kidnapping and murder charges."
He shot daggers at her.
"Oh!" she gasped. "And the child abuse! I nearly forgot the child abuse!"
That hit home. Gabriel cringed, pressing his balled fist against his forehead. Nathalie snorted and looked around to find somewhere to sit. She had been on her feet for an eternity and her shoes were not made for stakeouts. She spotted a box roughly as high as a chair and brushed the dust off it before sitting down. She did not spare Gabriel another glance.
He sighed and joined her, dropping on the closest box. He did not bother to clean it: he was still wearing dark, formless clothes that had seen better days.
He looked up at the ceiling.
"I didn't mean to freak out on Adrien. I…" - He turned his tongue in his mouth. It made a small suction noise. - "I just… I mean I don't like the fact that he is Chat Noir but I know he skilled, especially for his age. I can't fault him on his competence, he is not just good, he excels at this. It's just…"
He breathed in and shook his head.
Nathalie pursed her lips to collect herself.
"Gabriel. I am in this strange place where I do not know if I want to extend a helping hand or to smash it in your face. I'd be very careful with my choice of words, if I were you."
He closed his eyes. A moment went by, then he stared down at his hands as he twisted his fingers.
"Alice had a scar," he stated. "Hawk Moth captured her, back when she was pregnant with Adrien. I should probably explain t-"
"I know what happened," Nathalie cut in. "Miss Lenoir was kind enough to give me a rundown."
That remark was met with a silence, then a not.
"She had a scar," Gabriel repeated, closing his hand around an invisible handle and extending his arm in front of him. "Above her navel." - He tilted his hand up, slowly, as if the imaginary blade he was holding was meeting resistance. Then he twisted. - "I can't… Just the idea that Adrien might have to face him… I just…"
He closed his shaking fist and squeezed it with his other hand.
Nathalie closed her eyes and absorbed that.
Of course. There was always a darker piece of the puzzle to discover. Not that it changed anything.
"You know," she murmured, "I would have been a lot more compassionate had you addressed your crippling trauma before you could pass it on to your child."
"I was not trying to garner sympathy. Merely explaining."
She shook her head.
Gabriel was gazing at the palm of his hand. He ran his thumb over the tips of his other fingers, back and forth.
"Even now," he said. "He is a mild-mannered historian . But even now, I just can't… Just the notion that he could breathe the same air as Adrien…"
He clicked his tongue.
Nathalie took a long, deep breath.
"I want to see him," she announced.
###
"I wasn't expecting you at all!" Alice had squealed when Queen Been had landed on her balcony on a sunny spring days, weeks after her last visit. "You could have called me! I'd have prepared something!"
Anne-Laure had left Paris seven months earlier. After that, she had dropped by at random, when it struck her fancy. That meant she did not come often , because the woman had never wanted anything more than to fly away from Paris and the chains it came with.
A travelling life suited her. Her skinned burned and her hair turned to crackling hay, but the ever present edge of malice in her - which Tikki had always frowned upon - dulled as soon as the city lights faded.
"Heh. If I had called, it wouldn't have been a surprise," the superheroine had replied, flying inside and landing in the middle of Alice and Gabriel's bedroom. There, she had untransformed. "How's the baby?"
"He is officially a biped. A very, very fast, very happy biped. And wherever he trots, he drags Maya the Bee. Just so you know your gift was appreciated."
"Oooooh. Ooooh. How's Sourpuss taking that?"
Alice had grinned to the question. That Maya toy had been an endless source of aggravation to her husband, who tried to replace it with more suitable plushies whenever he could. Several ladybugs had been rejected already, as well as a collection of felines of various species and sizes. Adrien loved his Maya.
"I can confirm that," Tikki had chimed in. She had been slightly miffed about the boy's preferences, especially since she knew Waspp would rub it in her face. But she would never have admitted it.
"The boy has taste," her sister had commented, floating up from behind Anne-Laure. "Unlike his parents." - Her antennas had twitched. - "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Tikki. Come."
There was a reason Waspp's siblings did not go out of their way to spend time with her. Some of them were even know to avoid the continents she was active on.
Tikki had let out a long suffering sigh.
"Now?"
In the background, she had heard Anne-Laure chuckle and turn back to Alice.
"Yes, now ," Waspp had replied. "Wasn't I clear enough?"
"So who's the black haired robot who was collecting your mail when I tried to sneak in?" Bee had asked.
"You were veeerry clear," Tikki had sighed.
" Nathalie, " Alice had told her best friend. "Gabriel's assistant."
Waspp had dashed to the door and stopped there, impatient. She had glared at her fellow Kwami.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
Anne-Laure had raised her eyebrows at Alice's words.
"Ooooh, now that was venom," she had commented..
Tikki had hurried after her sister. On her way out, she had managed to catch Alice's answer.
"You know me. I don't easily dislike people. But that woman? She is an absolute snake. "
###
Kubdel was a mild-mannered historian.
When Nathalie walked into the basement, face hidden under a ski mask and clothes concealed by Gabriel's greyish sweater, the prisoner turned to her with a quietness that surprised her. She had been prepared for either panic or rage, but it looked like the man had been calmly waiting for Gabriel to come back.
He squinted at her, struggling to see without his glasses.
Nathalie tried not to fidget, the notion that he was Hawk Moth eating away at her resolve. She was in no way comforted by the cursed letter opener tucked under her belt ("You are not facing him without a way to defend yourself," Gabriel had told her). Her hands slipped behind her back and locked themselves together. She bit the inside of her cheeks.
She had come alone and she could handle this. She would. She had to. Gabriel had to be removed from the situation. He had managed to refrain from killing his captive and she knew he did not have it in him to commit cold blooded murder, as much as he wanted to believe he did. However, he was unravelling and would keep unravelling until Kubdel was dealt with.
The man was sitting behind in a cage that had been built into the basement, with bars that vanished into the ceiling and concrete floor.
He was in much better shape than what she had expected. There was a large bruise on the side of his face and a scratch on his nose, presumably left by his glasses when they had been broken. His lip was split. He cringed when he stood but still managed to get to his feet. All in one, he looked like a man who had gone through a brawl. He had not been beaten within an inch of his life. He had not been tortured.
Gabriel's mind worked in twisted ways but you could trust him to follow whatever warped ethics he believed in.
"Now that's a surprise," Kubdel told her. "I hadn't expected Gabriel would have an accomplice."
She blanched at the name. She knew Gabriel had been careful with his disguises. He would not have shown his face.
Hawk Moth's eyes slid over her as she went rigid then straightened her spine. He tilted his head to the side and gave her the indulgent smile of a teacher to a young and naive student.
"Please. Ladybug gets lost in the timestream and it just so happens that Gabriel Agreste's wife vanishes that same month, from the same area? Give me some credit."
Nathalie did not answer. She frowned and walked to the cage to take a better look at his face. She swallowed her fear. He was a monster, possibly a smart one, but she had worked with Gabriel for fifteen years. She had a modicum of experience in dealing with cold-blooded bastards.
She did not say a word. She hoped it would lure him into revealing more. He only smiled. In the end, she had to break the silence.
"Strange how you suddenly come to that conclusion," she pointed out. "One would think you would not have found yourself in this predicament, with that information at your disposal."
"Do you know what happened to her?" Kubdel asked. "Contretemps? A time-travelling enemy?"
Nathalie rolled her eyes with calculated boredom. Yes, yes, yes.
The man turned to the side and looked at the ceiling as he reminded himself of the past.
"Mrs Agreste's disappearance was well advertised. She had a child about my daughter's age. As soon as I connected the dots, I made sure to watch Gabriel." - He shrugged. - "When I realized he did not suspect my involvement, I walked away."
"I somehow find that difficult to believe," Nathalie retorted. "Especially considering your history with him. You are not known for being forgiving."
He finally met her eyes and gave her a polite smile.
"I was willing to let bygones be bygones. Bella and I are after the Miraculous . I had nothing to gain by murdering a man who was no longer in possession of one. He was not standing in my way."
"But Alice was."
Gabriel had not questioned his prisoner. He had admitted as much. From what Nathalie had gathered, her lover had captured the man, dragged him to his hideout, locked him in the basement, then spent the rest of the day brooding or doing whatever it was that certifiable people did when they kidnapped their nemesis and couldn't go through with their murder plans.
Now that she thought about it, Gabriel had not mentioned Hawk Moth's Kwami at all. Where was it?
You should have thought this through, she berated herself. You don't have enough information.
Boxes and arrows were still rearranging themselves in her mind, leading from condition to condition to a set of solutions that were quickly being discarded. 'Is he aware of the identity of his kidnapper?'. 'Yes'. Option A ('Video-recording his confession and delivering him to the police') was crossed off. 'Is he willing to cooperate?'. 'Does he have the information you need?'.
Being accused of murdering Alice unsettled Kubdel, who frowned for an instant. He recovered quickly. His serene expression returned.
"I'm curious, Miss Sancoeur. How does a woman like you end up an accomplice to kidnapping and sequestration?"
She clicked her tongue when she heard her name. Of course . If he knew who Gabriel was, guessing her identity was child's play. She pulled the ski mask off.
"I'm curious," she drawled. "How does a man like you end up a supercriminal with an obsession on children's jewelry?"
He ignored the mockery.
"I owe Bella a debt I could never repay and that I do not care to discuss," he explained with a smile. "But let us say my gratitude knows no bounds."
"That's it? A mysterious sob story?"
Kubdel grew impatient. He frowned.
"Every single one of Bella's chosens has a sob story," he retorted, rolling his eyes. "She is a deity of revenge. She favors the victimized and the weak."
Nathalie thought of Nino, the one of Adrien's friends who had turned into the Bubbler to punish the adults of Paris. She thought of Dark Blade, who had transformed on live television after André Bourgeois' unsurprising reelection. Revenge, but at a price. 'Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' seemed like a recurring theme for Hawk Moth, maybe more than he understood.
She wrinkled her nose.
"You are closer to my age than Gabriel's, aren't you?" she asked as a suspicion jumped to the forefront of her mind.
"Without knowing your age… I assume so."
Which means you were twelve at most when you became Hawk Moth. A sob story indeed.
She put that thought aside.
"As pleasant as this small talk is," she told him, suddenly businesslike, "we have more important matters to discuss."
Kudbel walked away and went to sit on a box at the opposite end of the cage. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and bridged his hands.
"So you will be handling the 'questioning'?" - The corner of his mouth twitched and, for a second, she caught a hint of cruelty in his smile. - "Go ahead."
"We might as well cut straight to the chase. What happened to the previous Ladybug?"
"Joa? I wouldn't know. Our encounters were few and far between."
So he wanted to toy with her? Nathalie could not have cared less. She was used to those childish games. It came with the job.
"What happened to Alice Agreste?" she amended, with the exact same tone and detachment as the first time she had asked the question.
Kubdel took a deep breath. He pulled away.
"It would seem we are at a bit of an impasse here," he replied, trying to suppress the crazy grin that had been trying to slip out since Nathalie had moved to the interrogation. "See, I am acutely aware that my survival hinges on what I know of her fate. I feel it would be in my best interest to keep it to myself while I wait and pray for a 'miracle'."
Nathalie raised her eyebrows.
She felt much calmer. Her fear had vanished. As dangerous as Hawk Moth had been, most of the fear he inspired came from his theatrical shows of force and from the mystery that surrounded him. But he was just a man. A middle-aged man armed with a piece of magical jewelry. With no piece of magical jewelry.
Without his Miraculous, he was not that different from the monsters she had faced as the personal assistant of a billionaire. In that world, the demons wore Armani suits or carried Gucci purses. You could fight them with words.
"You seem to be under the impression that you detain information that we cannot obtain from your Kwami," she observed. "You should cure yourself of that notion."
The mild-mannered historian faded away entirely. Madness stared back at Nathalie and smirked.
"Bella won't tell you anything. Not a word. And even if she wanted to, she doesn't know the whole story."
Nathalie had copied a lot from Gabriel over the years: the way he clasped his hands behind his back, the impeccable strictness of his posture when she had to assert her authority. She used the same disdainful silences. Her glares could be as icy as his.
She could borrow his smiles too.
"I'm sorry," she said, the corner of her mouth curling. "I misspoke. I meant to say that there is no information we can't obtain through Bella."
She paused for a second and watched the realization sink in. Bella and the godly powers she could provide to her victims. Contretemps came to mind.
Hawk Moth blanched. Nathalie's smile grew larger, though it never went past 'subtle'.
"What you know, mister Kubdel, is irrelevant. Your survival does not depend on it. It hinges entirely on the shreds of Gabriel's conscience. However, your cooperation might improve your chances of getting out of this alive, a fact you'd do well to keep in mind."
As it turned out, you could scare even the devil.
"Am I to believe you would let him kill me?" Kubdel railed. You could hear the cracks in his voice. "And, really, am I to believe he would risk his only chance at getting answers? It seems to me like the lack of them is eating him alive."
His words slid over her. She let an instant go by, observing him with perfect detachment.
"Do you know what Gabriel's problem is?" she asked.
Kubdel gave her a wary look.
"He feels too much," Nathalie continued. She stepped closer to the cage's bars. " My problem is that I don't feel enough."
The man recoiled. It was subtle, but she spotted it all the same. She reached under her sweater and retrieved the letter opener. She looked down at it and inspected the blade.
"Now, let me clarify the situation." - Her tone was tranquil. - "The man whose family you destroyed is now my partner. The child you wanted to carve out of his mother's womb is now mine. You , on the other hand, are little more to me than a speck of dirt on my shoe. You are an inconvenience. If you were to disappear without a trace, every single problem I have right now would be solved. So, mister Kubdel, if I were in your shoes, I would consider my options very carefully."
###