Chapter 3

When Adrien initially awoke on Monday, it was with a frustrated groan and a Chat-like urge to rebel and run away to school. Then, he remembered his father's parting words. His father didn't want him to act out. It would reflect poorly on Gabriel and might dissuade the judge from allowing him to go back to his home. So, with another frustrated sigh laced with a good bit of resentment, he rolled over off the bed and went to go start his day.

After a quick shower and a bite of Camembert for Plagg (in case there wasn't any at breakfast), Adrien carefully locked his room and headed in the direction of the kitchens, hoping to grab some breakfast before his tutor arrived. Luck was in his favor, as he entered the dining room he spotted his grandmother eating a pastry and sipping something out of a delicate ceramic cup.

"Good morning, Adrien, dear," she greeted, setting down her cup. "There's plenty of food in the kitchen for you. I wasn't sure what you liked to eat in the mornings, so I had the chef prepare a bunch of sample foods."

"I'm good with almost anything," he said. He headed into the kitchen and grabbed a small assortment of pastries, fruits, and yes, even a slice of Camembert for a joyful Plagg, who gobbled it up before he finished spreading jam on a croissant. Grabbing his plate of food and a drink, he headed back into the dining room and sat down across from his grandmother. "This is really good," he complimented as he bit into a tart.

"Thank you, dear," she said with a smile, pride shining in her face. "I enjoy baking so much. Your grandfather often complained that we had so many sweets all the time that I finally just started donating them to the nearby children's home."

"Huh?"

She motioned to the array of pastries on his plate. "Every Monday, I take whatever I've made over the weekend and bring it to the kids during the day. It gets me out of the house during the tour times and allows me to interact with the children there." Her expression grew wistful. "I really regret we allowed your family to grow so distant."

"Why did you?" Adrien tried to keep the resentment from his voice. He wanted some answers, and his grandmother might be the better option. He didn't want to alienate his most promising lead.

She sighed into her cup. "Oh, Adrien, if you don't know this by now, both sides of your family have immense pride. And stubbornness. And those are not two very good combinations when attempting to reconcile old arguments."

He knew that about his father, definitely, and he was starting to see that with his grandfather. "It's stupid though," he said instead.

"I agree. Your mother took after your grandfather," she said.

Adrien perked up. "She did?" He didn't know that.

His grandmother chuckled. "Of course. Gabriel is incredibly headstrong, as I'm sure you're aware. Do you really think that someone meek and mild would have won his heart so completely?"

"Uhm, to be honest I never really thought about it like that," Adrien admitted. Though it made sense. His mother could definitely hold her own against his father. He bit into a piece of melon as he mulled over what she just told him.

"Your grandfather was still so angry that your mother went against his wishes and married Gabriel. He refused to relent. To apologize. Even after you were born, he still held so much resentment. That faded, of course, with time. But he would never admit that he was wrong about your father. He always believed that Gabriel wasn't worthy of your mother. That he just wanted to use her family name to make a name for himself." She blinked hard against sudden tears. "Oh how wrong we were," she murmured. "We should have seen it even back then – the passion your father had for everything. His work, his designs, his love for your mother. A few years after being married, we started to see Gabriel's name whispered among the more couture of our colleagues within our inner circle. And of course, it didn't take long after that for his company to skyrocket to the prestige it holds today."

Adrien pushed his food around with his fork. "So why didn't you contact us then?" he asked.

His grandmother's expression crumbled, and Adrien swallowed hard, wondering if he shouldn't have pressed his luck. She sighed. "Oh, Adrien, dear, we wanted to. We really did. Your grandfather was so close to yielding to my requests and sending out an olive branch to your mother." Something in her statement stilled his hand. He focused entirely on her. "Then your mother vanished."

His heart plummeted. "Oh," he said in a small voice.

"Your grandfather reverted back to his old self. He blamed Gabriel – irrationally of course. He believed that if your mother hadn't married Gabriel that she never would have vanished. We spent so much money sending investigators after her. We never discovered anything."

"Father did the same," Adrien said in a quiet voice, his hand trembling.

"I know, dear," she said. "Our investigators told us that much as well. Your grandfather was inconsolable; wracked with guilt. We both were. We didn't know who to blame. We wouldn't admit we were partly at fault, so we turned our grief back on the easiest person to blame: your father."

"So why now?" Adrien was trying really hard not to let his bitterness tinge his voice.

"It's as your grandfather explained earlier, dear. We're not getting younger. Your grandfather had a bit of a health scare a few months ago. It made him – it made us both, really – reconsider our priorities in life. We wish to get to know you."

"But you don't want to get to know Father?"

His grandmother averted her eyes. "I would love to," she said, a bit sadly, "but I am not foolish enough to believe such a naive dream. I know that our relationship with your father has progressed well beyond the point of reconciliation. I am hoping that our relationship with you has not."

Despite himself, Adrien offered a warm smile at his grandmother. "I'm willing to try," he said.

She returned the smile. "Me, too, dear."

To his surprise, the week flew by in a flash – filled with horseback riding, pastries, and family evenings together. He had convinced his tutor to follow the course syllabus at Collège Franҫois Dupont so he wouldn't get too far behind the rest of his classmates. He often ate breakfast with his grandmother. His grandfather spent a lot of time outdoors tending to the stables and the horses inside in the early morning hours. It was one of his passions, his grandmother explained.

"What can you tell me about my mother?" he asked his grandmother one morning, holding his breath in anticipation as he bit into a warm croissant.

She sighed, blowing steam off of her cup of tea. She stared at something in the distance, her eyes losing focus. "What would you like to know?" she asked him.

"She didn't tell me much about her childhood," Adrien said. "I guess I can understand now why she was hesitant, but... what was she like when she was my age?"

His grandmother chuckled. "She loved to explore this old house. Her bedroom was on the other side of the house, near our rooms. Sometimes though, we would discover her over in the wing by your bedroom, covered in dirt and dust and her face glowing like she just had the biggest secret in the world to share. She took after her father, you know," his grandmother added.

Adrien remained silent, hoping not to break the tender calm.

She took a sip of tea and continued. "Yvette loved the outdoors. She spent hours riding those horses and vanishing down the trails. She could walk into a room and just light up from the joy of seeing different people dressed up. She had quite the eye for details. I suppose she balanced out your father that way."

Balanced out? Adrien didn't know if anything could balance out his stuffy father. Gabriel was notorious for his eye for detail and sharp tongue when criticizing said details. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Oh your father often had his head in the clouds. He could see the massive picture but could never look beyond the generalization. Your mother taught him how to notice the finer details. She taught him to narrow his focus when necessary."

Maybe that explained why his father was so diligent when he picked apart seemingly insignificant details – such details that had propelled his brand to success because of his attention to the quality of his work. He thought that perhaps his father always had been a bit on the anal side, but to know that his mother was the one that grounded him initially... He blinked away the prickling sensation in his eyes. Time to change the subject.

"So what are you planning to bake today?"

He spent the afternoons either helping his grandmother bake or riding horses with his grandfather. Thanks to his Chat Noir agility, he picked up on that rather quickly and was soon trotting around the grounds with an excited glee as his grandfather watched with a smile. They often would ride out in the woods behind the estate, exploring the different hiking and riding trails together. Adrien loved it. He could never imagine doing this with his father.

"Now that you know one of my biggest hobbies," his grandfather said one afternoon, "what are some of yours?"

"Mine?"

"Your interests," his grandfather prompted, leading his horse down a trail. "Gabriel does allow you to have interests, right?"

"Yes, of course," Adrien said, struggling to adopt the ease his grandfather had on his horse. He mostly succeeded. "I really like fencing. I'm one of the best fencers in my school. We've won a lot of competitions."

"Fencing? That's quite an accomplishment." His grandfather smiled.

"I also like video games," Adrien added.

"As I'm sure do most teenagers," his grandfather said with a chuckle.

Adrien laughed with him. "My school won a gaming tournament recently. It was amazing to watch. I loved being there to cheer on my classmates. It was such a rush to be there as we won. The entire stadium celebrated with us."

His grandfather smiled as Adrien relived the memory.

"Anything else?"

Adrien's thoughts turned to his alter ego, and naturally to his partner. He hoped he wasn't blushing. "I do have a little thing for bugs," he said, resisting the urge to smirk in a very Chat-like manner at the hidden meaning behind his words.

"Oh?" his grandfather prompted. "Our historical flower gardens attract many kinds of insects. Many species of butterflies make it their home."

Adrien blanched. "Erm, well not butterflies," he amended hastily, hoping his voice didn't betray the shudder that ran through him. "Mostly just ladybugs," he said.

"Those are quite common around here as well."

He supposed they were. Just not the particular kind of ladybug he really wanted to see.

He slowly gained more confidence riding his horse during the long afternoons until he felt practically at ease riding down the trails.

Baking, however, was another story.

"Adrien, dear, I believe the goal is to get the flour in the bowl, not around the kitchen," his grandmother chided with a fond smile as another puff of flour rose from the bowl.

"I'm trying," he insisted, jamming the stirrer into the batter with a bit more force than necessary. Another cloud of flour floated up. It tickled his nose. He sneezed. The bowl slipped from its precarious position in the crook of his arm. "Augh!" he cried, his hand shooting out on reflex. He snagged the lip of the bowl before it smashed to the ground. "Phew," he sighed.

"Wow, that was amazing," his grandmother gushed, clapping her flour-covered hands and creating her own little puffs of white in the air.

He had forgotten his grandmother was still in the kitchen. "Oh, haha," he said, rubbing the back of his head as his brain raced for a suitable excuse. "It's my karate and fencing training. Good reflexes."

She beamed another smile at him. "Well, I would say you saved yourself from making quite a mess, but..." she looked around at the flour-covered kitchen, "it appears we've already done that here."

She didn't look angry, so Adrien relaxed a bit. He chuckled as he looked around at the dirty kitchen. She joined in and soon they both dissolved into loud peals of laughter.

At night after dinner they played games or watched a movie. The evenings were filled with giggles and over-the-top victory dances (all courtesy of Adrien and his Chat Noir persona). He reveled in the presence of his grandparents. But the closeness with them only amplified the ache he felt when he thought about his father. He missed his dad. Even when his father forgot a school event or skipped dinner or was buried in his work in the office, he missed the feeling that his father was always within reach. It was hard for him to sleep at night. Adrien never realized what a comforting presence it had been just knowing he was somewhere in the house.

The ache didn't fade as the week went on. So despite the whirlwind of the previous week, when Saturday arrived, he woke up that morning excited for the day. Today, he would be seeing his father for the first time since he left his home. He wondered if his father would actually show up in person, or if he would just send Nathalie with a tablet while he squeezed in his obligatory visit with Adrien in between other meetings and work. He realized he honestly didn't even care. He couldn't wait to see his father again so badly that he was even willing to accept a tablet teleconference with him. He bounced in place as he messed with his hair.

"Should I wear a suit, Plagg?" he asked as he combed and parted his fringe for the hundredth time that morning.

"I didn't think you brought one," the kwami replied, piping up from where he had curled up on the foot of the bed, a shredded Camembert wrapper acting as a pillow.

Realizing Plagg was right, Adrien deflated. "Oh, yeah." His hands fiddled with his shirt.

"Relax, kid. Your dad's probably going to show up and leave before you have time to say two words to him."

"Yeah," Adrien admitted, his fingers dropping to his sides. The vibrant atmosphere dulled in an instant. Plagg sensed the change of mood.

"Hey, Adrien, that doesn't mean your father won't be happy to see you," Plagg said, floating up from his spot on the bed and hovering over by the mirror.

As expected, Adrien perked back up. "Really?"

"Of course. Your father is so overprotective I'm sure this is the first time you've been out of his reach for longer than a day."

Adrien chuckled, knowing that his kwami was correct. "You know, I believe you might be right."

"Course I am," Plagg said, folding his arms with a defiant toss of his head. "Let's get going. I want some Camembert before meeting with your dad."

"Sure thing, Plagg," Adrien said, opening his shirt so the kwami could fly into his pocket.

After breakfast (and a whole wheel of Camembert for Plagg), Adrien waited in his room with barely concealed impatience, pacing up and down on the rug-covered floor. When the shadow of a car pulling up filtered through the windows, Adrien ran up and peered through the glass, watching as his father stepped out of the car and regarded the house with a sour expression on his face.

"He doesn't look so well," Adrien remarked. "I wonder if something's happened."

Plagg flew up on his shoulder and peered at Gabriel. "Well, kid," he said after a moment of silent observation, "if you want my advice, don't add to your father's worries."

"Huh?" Adrien glanced at his kwami. "What do you mean?"

"I mean don't tell him how much you miss him and how much you really want to go back home."

"But I do!"

"I know that. And you know that. And there's nothing your father can do about it right now until the judge convenes in a few weeks, right?"

"Okay," Adrien said slowly, still not quite grasping what the kwami was getting at.

"So why worry your father? He needs to focus on his own work so the judge won't rule against him. If he worries that you're miserable here, he'll get distracted."

"I'm not miserable here," Adrien protested.

Plagg snorted. "Kid, I've seen you mope in your room at night when you don't think I'm watching."

Adrien turned and sagged against the wall as his grandfather went out to meet Gabriel. "I really do miss my dad," he admitted. "And my friends. And school. But... I also miss the feeling I used to get when Mom was still here. When my dad would come in my room and give me his rejected sketches to color. When he would tell stories of the day on the runway, filled with accidents and mistakes but somehow – miraculously – everything always turned out perfect. I miss how Mom used to sneak sweets into the house and Father would shoot her this disapproving look. But then I would catch him stealing cookies in the kitchen and he would bribe me with one to keep quiet from Mom."

Plagg shot him an incredulous look. Adrien sighed again, sliding down on the floor. "I miss the feeling of being a family. And this week was the first time in a long time I felt that way again."

"So you don't want to go back with your dad?" Plagg clarified. "Just tell him that."

"No!" Adrien exclaimed, shooting up from the floor. "I do! More than anything! I just..." he trailed off with a sigh. "Is it selfish of me to wish that I could have both? That my dad and I could go back to how things were when Mom was around?"

Plagg floated up and nuzzled Adrien's neck. "No, Adrien, it's not selfish at all. But if you want your dad to not be distracted by you, you need to show him how happy you are. That will get him relaxed so he can work better on getting back with you permanently."

Adrien nodded to Plagg. "You're right."

A knock on his door prevented Plagg from replying. "Adrien?" his grandfather said. "Your father's here to see you."

"Coming, Grandfather," he called out. He cupped Plagg one last time and whispered a thanks to the kwami before Plagg darted back into his shirt.

Gabriel stared up at the enormous house, recalling with disdain how he often gazed up in wonder at it whenever he went to call upon Yvette. As a budding designer, he used to always adore the house – the magnificent grandeur and the extravagant elegance. But the memories of never quite being good enough for the occupants drove him away from the classic style and into his more modern take on a house. Still, he almost wished some part of him didn't instinctively shudder whenever he saw Yvette's childhood home.

Somewhere in that house, his son was waiting. He closed his eyes, only to open them as he heard someone approach.

"Hermine," he said with a curt nod.

"Good morning, Gabriel," his father-in-law said.

"How's Adrien?" he asked.

Hermine smiled and Gabriel was a bit taken aback at the soft joy radiating from him. "He's a treasure," he answered. His eyes sharpened and the brief moment of tenderness vanished. "He's enjoying himself out here. The fresh air and exercise is doing wonders for him."

Gabriel didn't bite at the implication of those words. "As thrilling as our talk is, I believe I came to visit with my son."

"Of course. Do come in. I'll go fetch him."

Hermine led the way into the house, and it was just as breathtaking as he remembered the first time he had stepped a timid foot inside, nearly two decades prior. Hermine left Gabriel in one of the side rooms and vanished down a long hallway, presumably to where Adrien was. The fashion mogul took a moment in the silence to compose himself, staring absently at a painting of some kind of family gathering in a garden for a party.

"Father?"

The tentative greeting shook Gabriel from his stupor. He turned, his heart leaping as his eyes landed upon Adrien. He stood there for a long moment, studying every inch of his son as if it might be the last time he ever saw him.

"Father?"

The second greeting was a bit hesitant and laced with uncertainty. Adrien's face clouded and his shoulders slumped. Gabriel stepped forward until he stood beside Adrien and wordlessly wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He pulled away after a moment.

"How are you?" he asked, his mind racing for something to say.

Adrien beamed at him. "Great!" he exclaimed. "Wait until I show you the stables! Grandfather has been giving me riding lessons. I'm doing really well."

Riding lessons. Was that all it took to make him happy?

"I would like that," he said instead.

He trailed behind Adrien as his son showed him around the estate – an estate that he was only vaguely familiar with from his time dating Yvette. He never had much of a chance to really explore; never fully welcome inside the home. He allowed himself to be led to the stables, smiling as Adrien pointed out his favorite horse. He listened as Adrien chattered on about how he had learned to bake.

"Though I'm not nearly as good as Marinette," he added, "at least now I don't destroy the kitchen."

Gabriel thought briefly of telling Adrien that said friend stopped by everyday on her way home from school. He decided against it. After all, it didn't appear that Adrien missed his friend. He only mentioned her name in passing as a measurement to his skills. Adrien continued rambling in excitement as he pointed out little details about the grounds, regaling his father with some significant historical tidbit or other important fact.

Once, Gabriel shocked him with his own personal trivia point. Adrien gaped up at him for a moment before the designer chuckled at his expression.

"Your mother told me that fact the very first time I saw this place," he explained. "It's not something I'll ever forget."

Propelled by that information, Adrien all but grabbed his father's hand and tore off down the path to the flower garden. Even Gabriel's long strides had trouble keeping up with his son's enthusiasm. As Adrien darted between the different bushes, Gabriel slowed a moment and recalled his own time in these gardens.

With Yvette.

He blinked, and the scene shifted in front of him. It was no longer the pebbled paths drenched in warm sunlight with his son bounding across them but rather the soft twilight glow from when he and his future wife enjoyed the warm summer air, thick with the cloying smell of blooming roses and the faint buzzing of bumblebees.

He had spread out his threadbare jacket on the ground in the middle of a bunch of rosebushes and they both sat on it, huddled close together to avoid the dirt. Hidden from the pebbled path and possible interruptions, they shared a small soda – one Gabriel had smuggled in his pocket – and breathed in the sweet aroma as they laughed and talked and Gabriel realized in that moment he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

That was before her father forbade him from seeing her.

Before Yvette defied her father's orders.

Before things degraded and her parents grew estranged.

Adrien's blond head popped back into his sight and he snapped himself out of the past.

He had won against Hermine all those years ago and married the love of his life, the woman who made his entire soul sing.

Was this fate's cruel twist that he would lose Adrien in the same place he gained his wife?

He reflected back on how much healthier and happier Adrien appeared to be here. Hermine was right; the fresh air was doing the boy wonders. His cheeks developed a ruddy blush as he laughed and ran through the pathways, gulping in breaths of clean air. His eyes sparkled. His golden hair glowed in the sunlight. The artist inside wanted to take out his phone and snap a dozen pictures for his portfolio.

The father in him wanted those same pictures for remembrance.

Instead, he just stood and watched as Adrien guided him around the estate, tuning out most of the explanations and trivia and just tried to focus on the feeling of being with his little boy. Not so little anymore, he thought with a rueful shake of his head. Where had the time gone? He hoped the churning sensation in his stomach was due to nervousness about seeing Adrien again and not the nagging doubt that told him this may be the last time he saw his son.

Adrien turned another corner on the pathway. Gabriel stepped forward to follow, but was distracted by a purplish-bluish butterfly hovering nearby. He paused and held out his hand. The butterfly landed on the tip of his finger. He stood motionless as to not frighten it away, watching it with a gentle smile. The wings fanned in a lazy flutter. Adrien came back around the corner after noticing Gabriel didn't follow. He stopped when he saw his father with his hand outstretched and the butterfly resting on the end of his finger. After a few seconds, it rose and fluttered off toward a bright pink flower.

"Your mother loved butterflies," was all Gabriel said to Adrien as he covered the distance between them in two strides. Adrien's expression faltered for a moment. Gabriel settled one hand upon his shoulder. "You said there were a few nature trails you wanted to show me?"

And just like that, Adrien's face lit up with glee as he pointed to a copse of trees in the distance.

"Yeah, one starts over there," he exclaimed. The elder designer pushed away his melancholic thoughts and forced himself to spend the rest of his short visitation time paying attention to his son and not drowning in nostalgia.

But all too soon, Gabriel found himself standing back in the drawing room, giving Adrien his final goodbyes. He briefly debated hugging his son, but settled for an awkward gripping of the shoulders. He stared down at Adrien, noting his smiling and hopeful face. He swallowed his own despair. Adrien was happy.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself here," Gabriel said.

Adrien nodded. "You don't have to worry about me, Father," he assured him.

Gabriel nodded back at him in agreement. "I see that. Well, goodbye, Adrien."

"Bye, Father."

He missed the way Adrien's shoulders slumped the moment he entered the hallway. He missed how his bright smile fell when he was out of sight. Gabriel closed his eyes, missing the final backwards glance that Adrien threw at him, his son's eyes filled with longing and sadness. Gabriel turned to leave, erroneously believing Adrien was truly happy without him.

And it shattered him.

Outside, Hermine met with him before he left. "Leaving so soon?" he asked.

Gabriel refrained from sniping back with a scathing retort. "Yes," he said. Hermine didn't deserve the courtesy of an explanation. He would probably find fault in anything Gabriel said. He ducked to get into the car.

Hermine held out one hand to stop him. "He's happy here, Gabriel," Hermine said. "Don't let an old grudge get in the way of what's best for your son."

Gabriel frowned and shook off Hermine's hand, getting into the car and slamming the door shut without another word. But the entire drive back, his thoughts were consumed with Adrien's joyful descriptions of his activities and Hermine's final remarks. Was Adrien truly better off without him? His grandparents doted on him, showering him with affection Gabriel hadn't given in a long time. Much too long. He could feel the divide between them – a stiffness and formality that somehow seemed to just appear overnight. But Gabriel knew it was built up from months of him not being there for his son. He wondered if it was too late to start to make amends.

He wondered if he should just give up entirely.

He mulled over that final thought for a long time, watching the trees dissolve back into city buildings and cars zipping past on the road. With a long, deep sigh, he pulled out his tablet and made the hardest decision of his life.

"Nathalie?" he asked, after pulling up her contact on his list and calling her.

"Sir?" she inquired.

"Contact my lawyers," he said. "I am going to stop fighting for Adrien. I have seen how much happier he is here without me."

Nathalie's expression cracked as she stared at him in shock, before shaking off her emotions and returning to her professional stance. "Certainly, sir, but if I may say so, I believe you're making a big mistake. I know how much Adrien looks up to you."

Gabriel sighed. "Perhaps. But he needs his family. And I'm not delusional enough to believe that includes me anymore." He ended the call before she could retort and spent the remainder of the trip staring out of the window, lost in happier memories of a time with Adrien.

Author's Note: Thank you all for your support! I'm pleasantly surprised (and pleased) to discover quite a lot of you have been asking the right questions. If I gloss over answering some of what you guys have asked in replying to reviews, it's to avoid future spoilers ;)

This chapter was the trickiest (so far) to edit. Which explains why it went from about 3300 words to 5k+ words. A very special thank you to PerditaAlottachocolate for suffering through many, MANY readthroughs of this chapter alone and providing invaluable advice on the structure, flow, and content of this chapter.