Archive of Our Own

The room is spacious and dark.

The dawn is breaking. Coloured by the stained glass, morning light falls through the window and onto the closed casket lid.
A woman comes from the shadows, dressed in black. Her face is pale, her expression is empty.

“My dear Jagged, it’s been almost a year.” Her voice sounds deep and tired. “And with every passing day I feel the darkness inside growing, like an empty, abandoned place. But don’t worry, I know what I must do. I have painted my soul like the wings of butterflies and I’m listening now for their whispers and cries, and disgusted accusations. I know, though I’m feeling very still, I have to find a will to carry on. It’s just as you always reminded me. That a new day will dawn for those who stand… Oh.”

As she looks away, light flickers on her glasses. She reaches to her heart — to the small brooch under her jacket.
“Maybe today is finally the one day we can beat them. Nooroo, dark wings rise!”

In a flash, the woman disappears and now another one stands in her place — tall, cloaked, menacing. Her hair has turned white and her face is painted with a one of Death.

A butterfly lands in her palm.

“Fly away, my little akuma. And paint his soul black.”

“Hold on! You have no right to!”

Gabriel tears the camera out of the man’s hands.

“Well, neither do you. You might not be aware, but this is a private property.”

Gabriel places a hand on the man’s back, gripping his collar. Gabriel may not be the strongest person around, but being almost two meters tall helps. Intimidation is usually half the job.

“It’s… You’re hampering the investigation!”
“Oh, really? Are you from the TVi? Pretty sure they usually don’t climb the garden wall before conducting the interview.”

That pitiful excuse of a journalist hangs his head, as Gabriel escorts him away to the gates. He’s young, maybe, college age. The prime time to make mistakes. 

“You know what I’m talking about! You realize you’re covering up for a murderer here?”

It takes Gabriel a lot of restraint not to smash the poor bastard’s face against the sidewalk. He should have gotten used to this by now: all those toxic Jagged fans, their ridiculous conspiracy theories and death threats Gabriel stumbles upon when dealing with Madame Sancoeur’s mail. If it’d be up to him, he would just… He must act according to plan, however. 

“And what were you hoping to find? A frozen head in the basement?”

As they reach the gate, Gabriel pushes him out on the street. 

“Have some respect,” he says, disgusted. “If I were you, I’d thank god that Madame Sancoeur is tired and merciful enough not to sue a pitiful bastard like you.”

Now, camera. Gabriel looks through the photos. There’s hardly anything — a shot of a window, overexposed. He deletes it, just to be safe, then clears the memory card for good measure.

“Wait!” The man is up on his feet already. The horror in his voice sounds almost genuine. “Be careful with that camera, please. It’s very expensive.”

“Oh?” Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “You’d better catch it then.”

Gabriel tosses the camera, not even looking where it’s going to land and slams the gate behind him. The nerve some people have. 

Soon, however, he once again hears the camera clicking. Before he can even look around, something hits him from the back and then… nothing.

He comes to his senses in a flash of light, lying on the ground.

“Gabriel!” He sees Madame Sancoeur coming to him down the porch stairs.

“Ma’am?”

She comes closer, leans to him.
“My sincere apologies, I should have anticipated he’d turn on you first,” she whispers. “This was poorly planned.”

“It’s nothing.”

She offers him her hand. He doesn’t need it to get up, but he takes it anyway.

“Did they?..” Gabriel lowers his voice. 

“I let him go. It was clear he couldn’t have stood the battle against Chat Noir and Ladybug any longer. It was getting out of hand.”

“I can still recover the footage…” 

He doesn’t finish, interrupted by a voice- 

“Are you ok, d-” -a far too familiar one he wishes he didn’t need to listen to every day. “D-dear… obedient… citizen… Oh, um, sorry to interrupt.”

Chat Noir is sitting on top of the gates. He seems flustered. From what? What is he looking at? What is he thinking?

Madame Sancoeur pulls away from him and locks her hands behind her back.

“Thank you for saving my assistant, Chat Noir,” her voice is suddenly flat.

“No problem, Miss… Madame Sancoeur,” he smiles, as if talking to an old friend. The nerve some people have. “Take care!”

And so he takes off, soon vanishing somewhere behind the buildings. Madame Sancoeur follows him with her eyes, looking in the distance long after he’s gone.

“Chat Noir and Ladybug…” she whispers so quiet it’s hardly audible.

In a moment, she shakes off the worry, confusion and disappointment and returns to her usual self — strict, professional.

“What’s the progress on Anarka’s next album? Has she approved The Reference To Something as a final title?”
“Yes, she has. But it also seems she won’t be able to meet the Monday deadline. Should I arrange a call?”

“No, you talk to her.” Her voice is cold and it seems devoid of any emotion. “Make sure that she knows I’m angry.”

He follows her back to the mansion. 

Gabriel finishes reviewing the security footage right in time for his lunch break. There is one pattern he manages to notice, even though it’s rather discouraging. He is just on his way to Madame Sancoeur’s study, when he hears the chairs being moved in the dining room. And not just gently moved, but rather brutally dragged across the floor. His heart skips a bit.

He rushes in. 

“Adrien! How many times do I have to tell you to be more careful?”

Adrien leaves the chair alone and gives Gabriel an unamused look.

“You’ll scratch the floor! It’s not your house just because we’re staying here.”

“Glad I finally have your attention.” He nods to the clock on the wall. “You’re on a break, right? Yesterday you promised we’ll talk as soon as you have a break.”

Gabriel clicks his tongue. Did he? He can’t remember.

“Fine.” He sits down in a chair in front of Adrien and puts his hands together, interlocking his fingers. “You’re home early. Are you skipping class again?”

“What? N-no. I’m not skipping, and even if I was...” All his past confidence vanishes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, because I’d like you to stay in school.”

“They let us go home earlier because of the akuma attack. I’ve tried to say hello when I came, but you’ve been so glued up to your screen…”

Gabriel frowns.

“Don’t worry about that! It’s not even what I wanted to talk about. First…”

Adrien goes to pick up something under the chair.

“My friend’s birthday is coming this weekend, and I got her something, but I don’t know if it’s, like, good enough.” 

He rolls out the poster, and Gabriel twitches slightly. It’s a blurry photo of a young woman standing in a field. ‘ Emilie Graham de Vanily, ’ says the title in Times New Roman, ‘ Solitude. ’ Her imposing signature is in the corner.

“Do you think she’d like it?”

“Is she a fan of avant-garde cinema?”

“Oh? No, but she already has pretty much every poster of her as Majestia, so I thought… Nevermind. I got it. I shouldn’t.”

Gabriel tightens his lips, trying to remain calm. 

“No, it’s a perfectly fine present. I hope you didn’t spend all your allowance on it, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Miss Nathalie helped a bit.”

“Wait.” Gabriel jumps up from his seat, eyes wide open, brows furrowed. “Don’t tell me you borrowed money from Madame Sancoeur!”

“Well, yeah, but…” Adrien adverts his gaze and crosses his arms on his chest. “I didn’t ask, she kinda just gave it to me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?!”

“I’ve tried, but Miss Nathalie said you’re busy.”

“Oh God.” Gabriel puts his glasses up and rubs his eyes. How is he going to explain this to her? “Don’t bother her with such things, understand?”

“Yes. I won’t.”

Gabriel sighs, then looks at the clock.

“That’s all you wanted to tell me?”

“That’s only one half of a question.”

Reluctantly, he sits back in the chair.

“You haven’t asked Madame Sancoeur for anything else?”

“No! It’s completely unrelated! Well, kinda related, but not really.” He looks back at Gabriel for a moment, but soon his gaze drifts away once more. “This birthday gift is for my friend Marinette. And it’s just… I really like her, but I don’t know how to tell her that. I’ve tried, but every time something happens. It’s as if I’m cursed. And with every passing day I think… I don’t know. I’m kinda dreading it at this point. How do I even tell her, so she won’t, like, hate me after that?”

Gabriel purses his lips. His first instinct is to tell him to forget it, bury it deep inside and let it die, because one moment you decide to follow your heart, open up your feelings and all that stuff, and the next you’re already divorced with a child and desperate for a stable job. He stops himself, trying to once again remember that Adrien is still only 14.

“If you don’t want it so much, then don’t do it.”

“I can’t! I can’t just sit there and wait. What if it’s true love and I’m just letting it pass by?!”

Gabriel barely holds himself from rolling his eyes. There’s nothing strange in Adrien being so overdramatic in his age, but at the same time one might think that he would at least understand the importance of being level-headed and detached. Isn’t it something Gabriel taught him all this time? Well, when he had time to. Well…

“Try to focus more on your studying. Finals are approaching.”

“I knew you would say that.”

“Why did you ask then?”

Adrien sighs. 

“Nevermind.”

Gabriel looks at the clock. A few more minutes for his supposed lunch. He probably has enough time to brew her coffee. 

Nathalie looks through the scanned grimoire pages on the computer screen. Some symbols are highlighted, but the majority are indecipherable. She writes something in her notes, then looks back. She seems more and more frustrated by every passing minute. 

“Can I help?” Nooroo’s voice sounds concerned. It always does.

“Are you sure you can’t remember anything about the book?”

“I’m sorry, but no. I’m not good with… um… those things.”

“Those things?”

“Language.”

Nathalie sighs.

“Well, neither am I, it appears.”

She goes back to her notebook once more, skims it from the beginning. Most of the beginning pages are crossed out in red pen. Unsuccessful — all her attempts were unsuccessful. 

“I had a theory.” She puts the notebook away, and Nooroo immediately takes interest in it. He tries to read it upside down. Nathalie continues: “I thought I figured out the possible symbols for ‘sacrifice’, but it doesn’t make sense in all the contexts. On the other hand, all my other translations are equally shaky. I don’t really know the syntax, I can only hypothesise, and the two words I base my whole deciphering on can betray me as easily. I’m staring at a sign…” She turns the scan to the two-page spread on Black Cat and Ladybug’s fusion. “I’m staring at a sign I can’t read, wanting to be sure.”

“Oh, I understand!” Nooroo exclaims. “'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.”

Nathalie frowns.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing.”

Nathalie hides all her previous additions from the page, except for two highlightings — the only two words she is sure about: one for the Ladybug miraculous, one for the Black Cat one. On the other hand, who said those are words and not sentences? Maybe, she needs to start from the very beginning again. 

She hides those annotations too, then opens a book on semiotics she was reading the other night, looks through the parts she bookmarked. All in all, she knows what those pages are about. She's spent years studying ancient sources and folklore to make sense of it. She knows that everything has a price and every wish has its downside. It’s a popular trope, after all. Wishes are only granted by tricksters.

“I would suggest, maybe, you shouldn’t do it.” Nooroo says carefully. “There was a person before you, trying to do the same, and the wish almost took her life.”

“Were you present there?”

“N-no, I never... was as important.”

Nathalie furrows her brows.

“It’s not certain, in that case. Same as with the decoding.” She feels her hands trembling, but she suppresses the anxiety. Her expression remains unchanged. “But even if it was certain, why would you care? I’m the villain in this story, am I not?”

“There is a reason I agreed to help you.”

“I know. But they already hate me, don’t they?” She says, her voice quieter than before. “I’ve always been the one everyone blamed — for his downfall, for his death.”

“They wouldn’t if they knew the full truth.” Nooroo’s voice is full with squeaky reassurance.

“No, at this point, they are right. Aren’t you the one who always tells me I’m using it wrong?”

“It’s not too late.”

“It is. And if my life is the price for returning everything to its place… Well, so be it.” 

She hears a noise right outside the door — the wooden floor squeaking. 

“But I’m sure there’s a work-around,” she adds hastily. 

Gabriel comes in a minute later. Nooroo quickly hides back in the brooch. He’s scared of him, for some reason, even though they rarely ever had a chance to interact.
“Your coffee.”

He leaves her mug on the table beside her. She takes a sip. It’s warm. Hard to tell for how long he’s been standing there. Come to think of it, she doesn’t remember asking for coffee. 

“I’ve collected more footage of the morning fight. Both from the news and our security cameras, as you asked.”

She looks him in the eyes, but he avoids her gaze. Must be for long enough.

“Anything new?”

“Not much. I thought I'd found Ladybug’s escape pattern, but it doesn’t hold up. There are also some blind spots in our security.”
“Where?”

“Around the windows in the back of the office, your bedroom’s windows, mine and Adrien’s as well.”

She purses her lips.

“No, those must stay that way. We can’t leave any incriminating footage, even in our own systems.”

“If only we could have more…”

“We are a record company, Gabriel, not Interpol. There are bound to be blind spots. I’m sure it’s still possible to trace their paths. I’ll review it later.”

She turns her gaze back to the grimoire. 

“Any progress?”

“No. Just the same two words we had before. My suspicion was wrong.”

She knows he’s heard everything, but she goes on to tell him anyway.

“There are still only two things we know for sure. First, despite what the conspiracy forums might say, they are just teenagers. Second,” her voice loses its coldness, “Ladybug is in love with Chat Noir, but it doesn’t seem to be reciprocated.” She sighs. “Two words, two things, and it’s been a year.”

Nathalie takes another sip of her coffee.
“But there’s, of course, Lila...”

“That hyperfan they trusted the fox miraculous with?”
“Yes. One might wonder — why her, among all others? Maybe, they know her in their real lives. We should take a closer look at her friends, relatives, classmates...”

Gabriel lowers his head.

“She’s in Adrien’s class, isn’t she?”

“Don’t worry. He has a good eye on people. He knows from whom to keep distance.”

“He’ll be safe, I promise.”
He nods. She feels his worry, but she knows there’s nothing she can say to him right now. There’s something more they need to discuss, something she wants to ask him. But then her gaze falls back at the notebook and she’s reminded once again: unsuccessful.
“I’m not sure I’m even able to act on it. So many random factors are in play.” She puts her hand on her brooch. “The time, the place. It’s like rolling dice. There’s too much chance involved. I wish there was a way to abolish it.”

“Why don’t continue rolling the dice?”

“What?”

“I mean, if you roll the dice enough times, eventually, it’ll give you the right numbers.”

Nathalie raises her eyebrows, amused.

“You are not making much sense here.”

“You’re right, but… If you want control, why don’t akumatize me again?”

Their eyes finally meet, and she sees his gaze, even through his thick glasses, suddenly clear, glowing, eager. It almost scares her. Not Gabriel, but the thought of what he might do to himself. 

Nathalie frowns.

“No. The last time was bad enough. Not to mention the state of your health right now.”

“I’ve fully recovered! More than that, if you need Dark Wings, I can-”

“Gabriel, no.”

“But the peacock powers could give you a huge advantage. It’s a risk, but I can fully take it.”

“It drains you much faster than you think. The last time brought us enough pain.”

“But if only-”

“Gabriel.” She raises her voice. “Why are you so eager to do this?”

Gabriel stumbles.

“Well, it’s my job, isn’t it?”

“It isn’t.” She feels his confidence melting and something else emerging from underneath — something deep, repressed, undefined; something he couldn't name. “What’s in it for you personally?”

“Um, it helps me… reveal my hidden potential.”

“In beating up kids?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…” Gabriel quickly collects himself. “Understood, ma’am. I won’t raise this topic again.”

She exhales. 

“Do I have anything else on the schedule for today?”

“A meeting on the Korean collaboration starts in three hours.”

“It was supposed to be on Wednesday.”

“Today is Wednesday.”

She sinks in her chair. The screen’s idle already. The books are gathering dust on the table, every one of them has at least a couple bookmarks sticking out. Her notes. Her notes… She knows how little of use they actually are.

Nathalie takes her glasses off.

“I’m tired, Gabriel.”

“I can review the footage then.”

She shakes her head. A faint smile curls her lips.

The room is silent.

There’s no sound but the sound of her feet.

She stops before the casket.

“My dear Jagged,” her voice is exhausted, “it’s been a few days, hasn’t it? My last attempts were futile. All those months I’ve remained careful, but now I wonder whether I was too careful. You know I hate to blindly take chances, but these days are getting so deafeningly distant I might soon listen to Gabriel and just it all fall to chaos, as if nothing really matters.”

She looks up at the ceiling covered in sleeping butterflies, and smiles wearily.

“Gabriel… He’s quite an interesting subject, isn’t he? He prefers to think he’s cold and rational, but not that deep underneath the surface is this tangled fury of emotions, all thriving and burning, and contradicting themselves. I...” A smile disappears from her face. “I’m still not quite sure I can understand him clearly.”

Her gaze falls at the stained glass. Her husband’s image.

“But is that what I came here to say?” The light is bright and violent. “Every time I come here I hope the right words find me, but once again I can’t say anything of myself, only repeating after others. What did I come here to say? I don’t know anymore. These words bring me no remedy, no satisfaction.”

She hugs her shoulders. Her head falls to her chest.

“I know, I know, the will to carry on… I’m doing this for you. Everything I’ve ever done was for you, so if you’re gone… Who am I now then? An anthem to no state. But…”

She listens in on the silence. Waiting for something. 

A butterfly lands on the window and spreads its wings.

“I know how treacherous this feeling is. That once I stop we’re nothing and nothing will help us. Oh… here it goes again.”

She puts her hand over her heart.

“A chance.”

She stands still.

“A chance...”

She waits a moment longer, then, stepping slowly and uncertainly, leaves.  

It happened again, out of nowhere.

Nathalie just returned from… the room and said they spent too much time on the miraculous these days, so now it’s better to focus only on work. He didn’t question it, even though he wanted to. He was just on the way to his desk, when suddenly there was this ringing in his ears, his vision became blurred, and his chest felt so heavy he couldn’t breathe… He used the damn thing only once. Well, twice. But that was over a month ago! He shouldn’t have any symptoms by now, and yet… 

Of course, Nathalie sent him off to rest, but he can’t rest when there’s still work to do. That’s why he’s now sitting on the couch in the dining room, looking through the spreadsheets on the tablet and not on the computer screen. It doesn’t go so well.

He’s struggling to focus. He’s been struggling to focus since he overheard Nathalie that day, and now this sharp reminder of his weakness… He wishes he knew what to do. 

Adrien comes in, nonchalantly. Nathalie probably hasn’t told him. He asked her not to. There are other things Adrien should worry about.

"A message from Miss Nathalie." Adrien falls into the armchair in front of him. 

"What message?"

"That it's 12 am already."

"Only 8 am in Seoul." He glances over the hall. The light is still visible from the half-closed door. "And, by the way, why are you not in bed yet? Tomorrow is a school day."

“Tomorrow is Sunday. Besides, there’s something very important I need to talk with you about.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow then?”
“Well, technically, it’s tomorrow already, so…”

Gabriel clicks his tongue,  then looks back at Adrien.

“So?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically...”

“You’ve already told me about that Marinette girl. You can drop the ‘hypothetically’ and cut to it.”

“Oh, r-right. Marinette.” He smiles, awkwardly. “That's about Marinette, yes… So, what I wanted to say, I like her very much, but there’s this huge social barrier between us. She’s a daughter of celebrity chefs, after all. And I’m living in this huge mansion that’s not actually my home…”

Gabriel sighs. Where is he even going with this?

“Not to mention, she’s a class president, so I’m kinda her subordinate. And I don’t want things becoming awkward between us, but at the same time those feelings…”

“Adrien.” Gabriel takes the glasses off and rubs his eyes. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“I know, but that’s not only about what you’re going to say. Just think…”

Think. Think. Think. If only he could stop thinking, actually. If only he could forget about what she said. ‘ And if my life is the price for returning everything to its place… ’ Whatever Adrien is trying to say now — it’s not the time.

“The only thing you should worry right now is your grades. You know we can’t afford university without scholarships.”

“I’m sure Miss Nathalie will help…”

‘ And if my life… ’

“Nathalie-” he cuts himself short. Well, what if it’s not her life, after all?

Something in his expression must have changed — Adrien suddenly looks at him all worried, almost timid.

“Adrien.” Gabriel’s voice is strict and stern. “I want you to understand. What’s happening in your life seems huge now, but none of it would matter in a few years. You’ll probably forget your classmates’ names before you graduate university, that girl’s name as well. So I want you to focus on your future now. I want to make sure you have a future at all.” 

“You can’t just say everyone is temporary.”

“They are.”

“But you...”
“I am as temporary as others. Sooner or later…” He stops himself. “All I meant to say… It’s much better you learn to go by yourself.”

Gabriel expects Adrien to throw his hands in the air and leave, slamming the door behind him. But he’s nothing like that. His posture is confident.

“Dad, that is what I actually wanted to talk about. Maybe you should stop trying to go by yourself.” His green eyes piercing through the dark. “Yeah, I know, Agrestes are soloists and all. But don’t you think two soloists could just… dunno, play solo together?”

“That sentence makes no sense.”

“Well, maybe, the rest of it does?” This awkward smile again. No, his son is still just his son after all.

“Go to bed.” Gabriel sighs. “It’s late.”
Adrien leaves, his head low, his hands in his pockets. One day he will understand, Gabriel thinks, he’ll have no choice but to understand.

Gabriel closes his eyes. He wishes he didn’t know what to do.

“What do you mean you weren’t able to fix the mixing?! Last time you swore it’ll be ready on Monday!” His shouting is so loud Adrien can hear it through the closed door. “You have an hour! If nothing is done by then...”

Adrien peaks inside the office, wondering if it’s even a good time. He wanted to ask him yesterday, but Marinette’s birthday took till late evening, and dad didn’t seem very happy. Well, he generally doesn’t seem very happy, but… 

“Unfortunately, Madame Sancoeur won’t be able to attend.” His tone shifts drastically in a matter of seconds. There’s not even a shadow of anger in his voice now. How does he even manage this?

“Are you waiting for your father?” 

Adrien almost jumps in place. He hasn’t noticed Nathalie coming.

“No, um… I want to talk to you, actually.”

She raises her eyebrows a bit. 

“If  you aren’t busy, of course.”

She glances at the wall clock.

“I am, but let’s first deal with things of a top priority.”

As dad starts shouting again, Nathalie closes the door. She gestures Adrien to follow her, and as they go upstairs she gently puts her hand on his back. He doesn’t say anything, wondering how to even begin. 

They walk into the music room. It’s kinda fitting. Dad forbids him to go anywhere near here, which of course means Adrien’s been here numerous times. It’s surprisingly light and spacious, more fitting to be an art studio than a music room, though who knows, Adrien has never been particularly sensitive to acoustics change. Maybe, it’s how it's supposed to be.

They walk by the grand piano and to the windows.

“Dad has perfect pitch, you know?” He says, trying to start somewhere.

“Yes, I do.”

“And the muscle memory, too! I remember that one time he played Schubert with me and didn’t stutter a single time, even though he didn’t practice beforehand. Like, at all.”

“He’s good at picking up things as he goes. I’ve noticed.”

He can’t tell if that’s a compliment. For a moment, it seems she’s about to smile, but then this… bitterness? sadness?.. overwhelms her again. Oh, if dad did something to upset her, this is going to turn really awkward really fast.

He gathers his courage. 

“Can I ask you something? Just... Promise me you won't fire dad because of me.”

“Don't worry," Nathalie smiles. "I'm not going to fire your dad. He's an essential worker at this point.”

“Good, so... Are you two close?”

Nathalie is silent, averting her gaze somewhere far.

“I meant… I didn’t mean. Not in that sense. It’s just… something is troubling him recently — more than usual. I thought something might’ve happened between you, otherwise what else could be on his mind?”

Nathalie doesn’t answer immediately. It causes Adrien a full moment of panic.

“No, everything is fine.”

“Good, good. Sorry, it’s… confusing sometimes.” As he talks, he watches Nathalie carefully. “You know him. He’d just deny everything, even if I’d asked.”

She nods. 

“He cares about you a lot.” He continues. “If he doesn’t tell you, that’s only because he probably thinks he’s cursed or something like that.”

“Or, maybe, he doesn’t know it himself. I understand.” She smiles again, for a split second. Must be a good sign. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“There’s one more thing, actually.” He puts hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them. “My friends are having a concert next weekend. And I wanted to ask permission.”

“You should ask your father then.”

“No, it’s not about that. They asked me to be a backup in case Kagami can’t come. And, well, I agreed.”

“Even though you can’t play?”

“I can! A bit. I’ve practiced. But I really need to practice more, and I don’t even have an instrument. That’s why I wanted to ask...”

Nathalie understands. Adrien goes on regardless.

“I’m not asking for the guitar or anything, just any guitar. And… I know. Dad told me not to touch his things, but maybe it’s a way to keep his memory alive. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right. That’s something he would want.”

Nathalie agreed.  He can’t believe his luck.

“But why wouldn’t you tell them the truth?”

“Oh, I just… You know, didn’t want to let anyone down.”

She smirks.

“It’s about that girl, isn’t it?”

Is he really so easy to see through? Adrien looks down.

“Yes, it kinda is.”

She nods, satisfied with an answer, then goes behind the piano, to the corner of a room he can’t quite see. He hears her meddling with some locks.

“Electric or acoustic?”

“Oh, um, electric. I think.”

She comes back with a black guitar case, a bit covered in dust.

“You’ll have to tune it first, but I’d like to hear you play.”

Gabriel hears the music from upstairs. Nothing unusual, he thinks, it’s Jagged Stone’s house, after all. He used to play there all the time. It got somewhat annoying before they finished isolating all the rooms. He used to… He used to… Wait a minute. The music is rather amateurish, and Jagged is dead. Oh god, no. No, no, no. Adrien, why?! What is he even thinking?!  

Gabriel drops everything and rushes upstairs, to the music room. 

“Adrien!” He’s so in shock he can’t decide if he’s scared or angry. “What are you doing?”

“It’s fine.” He hears Nathalie’s voice from behind. “It’s his guitar now.”

Gabriel stops in place, not sure how to react. Why is she here? After all these months, why suddenly the music room again? Did something happen? Oh, if Adrien did something to upset her… 

“It’s just as I said!” Adrien exclaims. “He cares a lot!”

“It’s not because… Or anything like that.” What is he even talking about? “I’m sorry I misunderstood. I’ll get back to work now.”

“Wait.” Nathalie says calmly, as she walks to the grand piano. “Stay for a bit. There’s no hurry.”

“There is, kind of.”

“They won’t fix the mixing in an hour, we all know that.”

She opens the fallboard. A cloud of dust raises up in the air. 

“You haven’t played in a while, haven’t you?” She looks back at him. Her voice is suddenly so warm. “Could you maybe play for us?”

He hesitates. ‘In a while’ is an understatement, he hasn’t played in eternity. His fingers are probably too stiff for this, and his head contains no memory of any sheet music he ever held. On the other hand, it’s her who asked him.

“It’s no use asking him!” Adrien’s tone is so obviously overplayed and manipulative, it’s insulting. “Dad probably forgot everything by this point.”

What a cheap tactic to force him to play.

“I’ll play,” Gabriel says, calmly. “No problem.”

He sits at the piano. It shouldn’t be that hard. He just has to choose something simple, something he played countless times before, and his body will remember the rest.

Gabriel puts his hands down on the keyboard. G — B. He recognizes it, but not quite. G — B. D — F♯/A. Oh, it’s Satie, of course. He knows Satie. It’s very fitting, actually, he can start slow and not worry too much about the tempo. G — B. D — F♯/A. The intro shouldn’t last for so long, but nothing too scary about that. What’s good about Satie is the inherent calmness of everything.

He carefully enters the melody. He’s studied it enough to know that Gymnopédies were crafted to sound in this very particular way. The music is so light it’s weightless. No mistake is a grave one, there’s always a chance, always time to make things right.

Why does it sound so anxious then? As if some mindless idiot hitting the keys with a hammer? Oh, god, the pedal! He puts his foot on the pedal, but something is still off. He can’t find what exactly; he’s searching, but he can’t. If there was something he could do. If there was something he could fix. He’d like to just give up and leave it all be, but she’s watching him. He can’t.

And so Gabriel plays, trying to keep his calm. Until, of course, his hand slips.

“The piano isn’t tuned properly.” He stops abruptly. “This C is at least quarter a step lower than it should be.”

Suddenly, Nathalie chuckles. 

“Thank you very much, it sounded lovely.”

Did it really, though? Adrien is beaming, still holding that guitar on his lap. Later they will definitely need to have a talk about respect and careful treatment of instruments.

Nathalie sets a small chair right in front of the piano. 

“I have something in mind.”

She returns with a cello case. It’s not as dusty as it could be. Has she played it recently? But when? 

“Please, Gabriel, give me a C. Preferably one that isn't a quarter step lower.”

He presses a C, then carefully listens to her moving a bow across the string. The sound trembles higher, then lower, until it’s calibrated perfectly. There was always something unbelievably pleasant in hearing the bowed instruments tuning. C, then D, then…

“I’ll start in A minor. That’s a progression you know already, Adrien. Ready?”

He powers up an amp, then looks back with the determined expression. She starts with a simple melody, going up the chord, then down. Adrien plays his A chord pretty confidently, but the moment she transposes into C he’s disoriented. Gabriel plays it on the piano, and only then Adrien follows. It continues like that for a while, until Adrien finally gives up, Gabriel now fully replacing him in the accompaniment. 

Nathalie notices that. Her progressions become more complex, and her melodies — more ornamental. He follows her, listening to every change in her tone. It is his job, after all — catching her, when she falls. There’s sometimes hesitation, then he tooks it on himself to follow through. 

And then Nathalie plays this melody — it’s so simple, and yet so familiar. 

“Did you catch it?”

Gabriel repeats the melody in the bass. Then again. Then he doesn’t notice how he comes up with a variation. They switch. Now her part is holding onto a note and he must thread around it. 

Of course, it’s still simple. The science behind it is, at this point, more intuitive than anything. But it feels… nice. It’s slow and foggy, but there’s grandness to it. Listening to it is like being consumed by the great fog of stability. You breathe it in — it settles in your lungs — you breathe it out.

It’s true that two soloists can’t really play together, but what about two accompanists?

He once again leaves the leading voice to her. She picks it up, then raises it into something bigger, fuller. The storm is gathering. The air is hot and heavy, and the sky is so dark there’s nothing but clouds. Gabriel wishes it doesn’t come. Wishes they could just stay here for eternity, supporting each other, holding…  

While holding a chord, he glances over at Adrien. He’s wide-eyed, astonished. What is he looking at? What is he thinking? Can he feel it too? The relief. 

Nathalie moves slower and lower, once again giving him some room for variations. 

“How do you know this song?” He hears her smiling.

“This song?” Has he heard it before? He can’t remember. It feels so natural he could swear it’s always been with him.

Then the music abruptly stops. He looks around and sees Nathalie. She’s frozen in place, her hands trembling.

“Nathalie!” Is this a time to call her that? No matter. No matter. 

He rushes to her, falling on his knees by her side.

“Are you alright?”

She doesn’t answer. Adrien comes closer all confused. 

“Bring some water. Quick.”

Adrien nods and runs out. Gabriel isn’t sure the water will help here. He isn’t sure anything will help. He tries to, but she keeps avoiding his eyes. 

Her breathing is heavy. He can tell she’s in pain. 

Then she abruptly stands up, almost dropping the cello, trying and failing to collect herself. 

“You can… go back to work.” Before leaving, she stops for a moment at the door frame. “I’ll… return soon.”

She reaches for her heart.

The room is silent. The room is dark.

She comes in, distressed. She holds her hand to the casket, then pulls it away before she touches it. Her stance is uncertain.

“My dear…” Her voice is hardly there. “It’s a betrayal, isn’t it?”

And so she stood there in silence, unable to break it anymore.

She forbade him to come. It was a direct order.

Once again, he is left at the sidelines, watching. 

The conflict between Ladybug and Lila was an expected turn of events, but, unfortunately, not the one they had much control over. When he saw Nathalie leaving the day’s work behind and departing to the lair, he knew she wasn’t ready. And he sees it right now, on the news: the uncertain moves, the conflicting tactics — it’s as if she’s trying to lose, intentionally leading the newly akumatized Painted Fox into the corner, so she could retreat and all this could end faster.

Gabriel is walking circles around the office. He can’t think about anything else. It’s obvious: Nathalie is losing hope. All those defeats start to get in her head, and now she’s desperate enough to give up. “ If my life is the price ,” she said. Why else would she say something so horrible? Of course there is a work-around! There must be, otherwise… Oh god. No, he can’t let her do this. 

If only he could obtain the miraculous for her, then she’d come around again. She’d find the strength she needs and… Well, wouldn’t she just? No, if she sees how much he’s willing to do for her, she’ll come around. She won’t. If somebody must, let it be him. But. If. If not. Nathalie. Sacrifice. “ If my life. ”

Gabriel grunts, and turns in place, and clutches his fists, and rushes to the safe. And he thinks so much he almost doesn’t think at all. He opens the safe. 

“Oh, it’s you, Gabriel. Did Madame finally allow you to?”

“Yes. No. Doesn’t matter now. Duusu, spread my feathers!”

Nathalie helps him to walk from the car and up the porch stairs, just far enough into the foyer he can fall into one of the leather couches. Since they’ve made their hasty escape, Nathalie hasn’t dropped a word to him.

“It’s not nearly that bad this time.” Gabriel’s voice is small and quiet. 

Nathalie sits down besides him. 

“Why?” She asks, her voice dry. “Why do you continue doing this?”

“I’ve told you. Because this is my job.”

She takes his hand, forcing him to look at her. Orange light dances in her lenses — oh, is it afternoon already? — she takes her glasses off, now looking him directly in the eyes. He’d like to do the same, but he doesn’t want to lose focus.

“Gabriel…”

“I see how much this wears you down. All I wanted is to take it from your shoulders.”

“My poor Gabriel…”

Nathalie nods, her expression still upset. He wants to say he knew what he was doing, but that would be untrue. She looks away, but her hand is still on his. 

“You know I can’t let it. Soon the damage will be irreversible.”

She moves her thumb across his. 

“But you’re right. It can’t continue like this.”

“You’re not giving up, aren’t you?”

She shakes her head. 

“No, we just need… a break. You need to recover, and I need a change of perspective.”

“And work?”

“It can wait also.”

His throat burning, he suppresses a cough. She looks at him again, worried. He wants to assure her it’s really fine and it’s going to be fine, and he’s relieved it all turns out this way. But one thing still weighs heavy on his chest.

“I’ve heard what you said. Is it true that there is no way around the sacrifice?”

“I’ll keep looking for it,” she says. “I promise I’ll keep looking.”

Gabriel finally fully leans on the back of the couch. Maybe, it isn’t so bad after all. They’ll just rest for a while, and then maybe it’ll turn out to be simple, and the dizziness will disappear on its own eventually, and he’ll see Nathalie happy and nothing else will matter.

Light warms the back of his head. Nathalie’s hand is still holding his. He closes his eyes, feeling he is about to fall…  

Nathalie abruptly raises up, her hand on the brooch.

“They forgot.”

“What?”

“Ladybug didn’t purify the akuma.”

She hesitates — looks at the office door, but remains still in place.

“You can’t pass on this opportunity.”

“But you-”

“I’m perfectly fine.” He stands up. Maybe, a bit too fast. “I can fight! And you need all the help.”

Nathalie bits her lip.

“Please, Dark Wings is needed here. It’s the last time I’ll ask.”

Her brows furrow. She’s thinking about it. 

“Go to sleep.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, we won’t pass on this opportunity. I can’t akumatize her again right now, but in the morning…”

She sighs.

“We’ll have to minimise your use of the miraculous, but… We’ll do it. Together. Once and for all.”

Paris is a fever dream. Literally.

Everything is drowning in the sea of endless illusions. The space around is warped and absurd and confusing, but Chat Noir is determined. As he runs across the rooftops, his vision blurs. He still can recognize that blue figure he’s chasing, thought. And he knows he’s not an illusion. Illusions don’t get hit, and Dark Wings got hit a lot. 

Chat jumps up, but the ledge he was planning to land on does not exist. He falls down, only miraculously manages to land safely.

Oh, damn Painted Fox. Damn Deathshead. Damn Dark Wings and his dumb bird-butt hair. Why do they always show up just when things are starting to get better?

Dark Wings seems to slow down somewhat. Pff. He probably thinks he’s lost the tail, but Chat follows closely behind.

Stopping in the corner of some roof, Dark Wings plucks a feather from his fan, ready to create another one of those creatures. Oh no, Chat can’t allow that.

He rushes forth. 

“Cataclysm!”

In this short moment, Dark Wings manages only to look around at him, eyebrows raised in shock. As the floor beneath them crumbles, Chat hits him with his staff. Not an illusion, that’s for sure. 

He falls on his face, and Chat is quick to pin him to the floor, ready to strike him again, then again, then take away his miraculous, then… He disappears in a poof of blue smoke. Before Chat Noir can even think, someone hits him from the back.

Gabriel can’t think. It all feels unreal.

A moment ago, Chat Noir was right here, but then he took his ring off, and now suddenly his son appears. It makes no sense. No. His skipped lessons. And his strange excuses. And the blind spots in the security. No. No. No, no, no, it can’t be. 

Gabriel lets go of his arm, and Chat Noir falls down on the floor. No, not Chat Noir. Adrien. His son. He fought his son . 

A million voices appear in his head, all screaming over one another. That Nathalie was right. That he shouldn’t have ever taken that damn jewel. That he should have just… That he just shouldn’t have… 

No, pull yourself together, idiot, think. For once in your life, think. You either fix it all now or ruin everything forever. 

In a few seconds, confusion disappears from his expression. His lips curve into a nervous grin.

“For a moment, I thought you might actually be someone important.” He slowly backs down. “But you are just a random school kid after all.”

Dark Wings jumps up to the ledge of the hole left by Cataclysm, leaving Adrien down there. He tries to ignore the things Adrien shouts in his back. All he wants is to flee as quickly as possible. But the voices keep shouting, and Adrien’s words keep ringing in his ears.

He stops in an alley somewhere. In an illusion of an alley? Doesn’t matter. He looks at the ring in his hand. A small black creature appears. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up...”

“I’m not even...” Plagg is compelled to shut up.

“I know what you’re thinking! That I shouldn’t have done it. That I should have given up right there the moment I saw him.”

“Well, yes, that would be very convenient...”

“I said shut up!” Gabriel once again failed to mention for how long. “That won’t matter anyway soon enough. I should just trust her. She’ll fix this whole mess, and after that she’ll take him in, for sure. They are getting along well. Jagged will return, she’ll get her life back, and Adrien… will never know. At that point, what I did… it will all be gone, overwritten with something better.”

“Wait, are you…” Plagg’s expression changed sharply. “You are Gabriel Agreste! You piece of-”

“Shut up! I forbid you to speak!” Gabriel shouts. Then abruptly goes quiet. “And I know. It won’t matter soon enough.”

He heads out to the mansion.

She looks at her reflection on the closed casket. Ladybug’s earrings are hers. It’s true. It’s real. What happened happened. What must be done will be done, regardless of whether she wants it or not.

It was her fault, after all — for finding him the miraculous, for letting him use it for so long, for not trying enough to stop him, when the symptoms became too obvious. They are right, when they are cursing her. She killed Jagged. She will pay.

Her breathing is heavy. She tries to calm herself down, as she hears Gabriel approaching. 

Nathalie turns around to see him, but something is clearly wrong. He’s in disarray, his gaze once again avoiding hers. He’s wearing the ring he is supposed to give her, but, most importantly, he’s still Dark Wings, despite everything they’ve discussed. 

“Gabriel? Come here. It’s finally time.”

He hesitates.

“You’ve promised to look for a work-around.”

“I’ve found it.” She answers, unmoved. “It all depends on how you formulate the wish.”

“It’s just a theory. You said so yourself!”

“You are the one who insisted I should take risks.”

He’s still hesitant.

“Bring me the ring.”

She extends her hand, waiting for him to come closer. He takes one unsure step towards her, then abruptly stops.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but no.”

“Bring me the ring, Gabriel,” she repeats.

“Please, let me do it instead!”

“Just bring me the ring, so everything can finally turn back to its place.”

“I’m not so dumb not to notice! We both know the sacrifice is necessary, and I’m ready! Give me the ladybug miraculous, and I’ll do everything, just… please, don’t.”

She feels her mask crumbling, but she can’t let any emotion bleed into it. She must feel nothing.

“It’ll be better for everyone.”

“No, you can’t just-”

“Bring me the ring, Gabriel.” Her voice is cold and empty. “It’s an order.”

“I can’t comply with it.”

He is determined. His stance is confident, and his hands are clenched into fists. The ring he’s wearing… Well, he may have made up his mind already, but so did she. 

“Nooroo, Tikki, unify!”

When the flash of light dies down, she sees Gabriel’s done just the same, adding Chat’s power to his. It’s decided then. They are going to fight.

None of them move, however, both too afraid to take the first step.

“This is the result of my mistakes.”

“Well, let me fix them for you!”

“You aren’t listening.”

“Well, neither do you!”

She’s approaching. She doesn’t want to fight him, yes, but that’s not about what she wants. That’s not about what anyone wants — that’s about what needs to be done. For a second, it looks like he’s about to back down, but he stands still. The way he breathes worries her.

“Stop this. Whatever you’re doing.”

“No!”

She catches his arm, he clunches the ring even harder, even though she can feel his strength is depleting. 

“It’s damaging you, soon it’ll be irreversible.”

“It won’t matter in a few moments!”

He’s reaching to the earrings, but the very next second his hand suddenly falls on her shoulder, seeking support. No, it can’t. He can’t. She won’t allow it.

He collapses on the floor. That’s it, she can’t hold it back anymore — the guilt, the worry, the horror, — it all leaks out. The mask cracks, then crumbles. 

“Gabriel!”

The floor is cold. She’s sitting at his side, still holding him, waiting for his eyes to find focus again. He drops his transformation.

“My poor Gabriel,” she runs her fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry I’ve forced you through this.”

“Madame… Nathalie, please.” He looks her in the eyes. “No, I can’t just stand aside and watch you do this. You can’t just… go.”

“Gabriel, I have nothing to lose, and you still have Adrien.”

“You’ll be a much better parent to him. I… I’ve failed him enough already. You and Jagged — you can still be a family. You can still be happy. There’s no place for me in this.”

“That’s not true. You are worth so much more than this.”

“I’m not worth anything without you, Nathalie! Without you… I don’t know what I’d do. To live, knowing I’ve lost you forever, would be an unberable torture.” 

She wants to say something, but she only manages to whisper his name once again.

“I want you to live. I want you to be happy. From the very first day, Nathalie, I love you.”

He stops himself, unable to believe what he said. 

“Oh, my Gabriel, my poor dear Gabriel,” her voice trembling. “I know. But what can I do about it?”

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“How am I supposed to feel now? How am I supposed to look Jagged into the eyes? After all we had, after all those tries and sacrifices… How am I supposed to tell him that now I’m in love with another man?”

“Who’s that man?”

“Oh, Gabriel.” As tears run down her cheeks, a faint smile curls her lips. “My poor Gabriel.”

She finally also drops her transformation and holds him closer. He embraces her back. They should feel relieved and happy, if not for the weight of evil they have already done.

“It's not too late, is it?” Gabriel looks her in the eyes. “What do we do?”

Nathalie ponders.