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He looks more like his father when his eyes are closed.
Softly, Nathalie brushes a bit of hair out of Adrien’s face, taking care not to wake him. It’s late, and the boy needs his rest, especially after what he’d been through the last few weeks.
She’d tried to keep him out of as much as she could, transferring the Agreste brand into her name, arranging funeral costs and memoriams. Still, sometimes she’d need his input or signature. Afterall, he was all that was left of the Agrestes.
Nathalie frowns.
He’d had a nightmare, Nathalie had gathered as much when she overheard the boy mumbling to himself in the kitchen in search of a late night snack. He’d been far too nervous when Nathalie found him, though he seemed to calm down when she offered him some of her secret stash of imported gelato, rather than the strange zero sugar dessert Gabriel had kept in all the freezers.
Then she’d gotten him back to bed, the single mattress pushed against the half-painted wall. He hadn’t asked her to stay, but it felt wrong, leaving the boy alone in the far too large room. He didn’t seem to mind. So she sat on the floor in the dark, waiting for Adrein’s breathing to steady with sleep.
She regards the boy again, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Awake, he seemed the spitting image of his mother. The same deep green eyes that almost seemed to glow, the same soft smile and inviting laugh. But here, laying with half his face smooshed into his pillow, Nathalie could see his father in him. His frown was set stiff, like one would expect from a man twice his age, and his skin looked too pale in the light of the moon.
She reaches for his cheek, but stops just short of contact. Her hand hovers over him awkwardly, until she lowers it and elects to stand. Nathalie stretches out the stiffness worked into her by the floor, and loosens the tight bun holding her hair in place. Then she makes her way to the door, quietly, as to not disturb the boy any more than she already had.
It was late now, even by her standards. It didn’t help that today had been especially taxing. A meeting with shareholders had taken up most of her morning, and an unexpected visit from Marinette, most of her afternoon. Now, she wanted nothing more than to collapse into one of the guest rooms and snore until Adrien had to be taken to school.
She doesn’t even get to make it to the stairs.
“Nathalie?” Adrien’s voice is small, sagged by sleep. She sighs, cursing herself for waking him.
“Adrien, is something-” She turns, but it isn’t a mop of messy blonde that greets her. Instead, it’s a purple hood and a magically pressed suit, and a face half-obscured by a dazzling blue fan.
Instantly, her features sharpen.
“What do you want, Felix?”
He drops the fan, revealing his smirk. “Hello to you too, Ms. Sancoeur.” His voice lowers into its normal register, which puts Nathalie on edge.
It was strange. He still sounded like Adrien, but there was now an edge to his tone, like he was trying to sound older.
“I expected a warmer welcome from the new head of the Agreste Corporation.” Felix melts off the wall, making his way to Nathalie’s side. He speaks far too casually for Nathalie’s tastes.
“It’s three in the morning.”
He shrugs, moving away from her side to the pillar on the other side of the stairwell.
“Is there really a cutoff time on family?” He leans back against the pillar.
Nathalie raises an eyebrow.
“You’re taking care of my cousin for the time being, so that makes us at least… something.” He continues, matter of factly. Nathalie crosses her arms, expression still harsh.
“Usually, friendly visits wait until the morning.”
He chuckles. “Ever the businesswoman. I can see why my aunt liked you.”
Something in Nathalie’s throat tightens. “Why are you here?”
Felix doesn’t answer for a moment, his magenta eyes raking across her face, sizing her up. Then, slowly, the smirk melts off his face, and his gaze shifts away from her and down to the floor.
“How is he?” He asks in a small voice.
Nathalie pulls back slightly, exhaustion keeping her from hiding her shock. She opens her mouth to answer, but only manages a few mumbles as she tries to process his request. Felix looks back at her, expectantly.
“I- he’s fine.” She regains some of her composure, “Really, you should ask him yourself. I know he’d appreciate it.”
“I could, and I will, in time. But right now I’m not interested in knowing how fine he’ll say he is, I want to know how he is.” Felix's eyes are once again fixed to her own. It’s an odd combination. The intensity of his gaze matched with the bizarreness of his features as Argos gave him a rather intimidating appearance, yet the boy still barely reached her chest.
Nathalie sighs, closing her eyes and rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “I… I don’t know.” She leans back against the pillar herself, taking another deep breath before continuing. “He’s just lost his father. I mean, anyone would be devastated.”
“There are worse things.” Felix replies with a shrug.
Nathalie’s eyes narrow, before she continues. “He’s stayed strong. Mostly he’s just been quiet.” Softly, she adds, “He barely speaks to me anymore.” The words bring an unexpected pang to her chest. “I think he just needs time.”
Felix nods slowly, considering her words with an expression that should be unreadable, but which she recognizes from Adrien. His head is slightly bowed, teeth no doubt biting into one of his cheeks. He was worried, but trying his best to hide it.
It doesn’t last, as he turns his attention back to her and asks, “I trust he has his ring?” He crosses his arms, now regarding her skeptically.
“Yes, of course.” She answers too quickly, standing up from the pillar. “I wouldn’t hold that away from him.” She looks down to the side, trying her best to will away the headache she can feel coming on.
“Anymore.”
Her head whips back to Felix, who’s still leaning on the piller, arms crossed and faced bored, but sour. It’s a stinging accusation, and unfortunately one she can’t think of anyway to refute.
She deflates slightly, before answering. “No, not anymore.”
“So he knows?” He tilts his head a bit to the side.
Nathalie shakes her head slightly with confusion.
“About everything, about my uncle’s true identity?” He steps off the pillar, “About his own?”
Nathalie feels like taking a step back, but shakes out the shock and holds her ground.
“I… no. Of course not.” She crosses her arms, not wishing to look the boy in the eye.
“Why?” Felix said. His voice is even, but that edge to his tone is sharper now.
“We- it’s for the best this way.” That headache was starting to hit, and Nathalie closed her eyes to try and reason with it.
“Who decided that?” Felix steps forward again, as anger starts to leech into his voice. Nathalie’s eyes are still closed, as she holds back a grimace.
“Ladybug and I both agreed-” She tries, but Felix won’t have it.
“Ladybug isn’t here!” His voice creeps to the edge of a yell, and Nathalie finally opens her eyes to glance over at Adrien’s door.
“But I am. I could run down the hall right now, tell him everything.”
Her gaze snaps back to the boy, frown morphing into a glare. “You wouldn’t dare.” His smirk returns, though his eyes don’t settle into it all the way. Now, in the low light, they almost seem to glow red.
“I would very much dare.” He even takes a step back into the hallway, threateningly.
“Or, you could stop me right now. Run in yourself, explain it all. I’m sure it’d go down easier, coming from you.” His eyes go to the ceiling, considering his words, “Or, I guess most of it would.”
“What do you mean?” Nathalie does her best to keep her words steady/
“You know exactly what I mean, Mayura.” Nathalie takes the name like a blow to the cheek. “It’s easy to hide behind Ladybug, isn’t it? Pretend the real reason you won’t tell isn’t staring you in the face.” He steps forward, backing Nathalie against the stairs.
“It’d tear him up, knowing the truth about his new guardian. How you helped mommy and daddy dearest form their perfect little Adrien. How you stood by and watched, while he was locked in this mansion away from the world!” He steps forward again, and Nathalie feels the back of her heel hang over the top step.
“He just wouldn’t be able to handle knowing how you helped my uncle terrorize this city, abused your powers to create so many more like him, just to cast them away!” His arms swept wildly as he spoke, anger radiating off his every move.
“Or rather, you wouldn’t.” His voice drops back down, but the words are no less devastating.
“You're just like him, just like my uncle. I'm sure you deluded yourself with some clever fantasy, but the truth is you were just Gabriel’s little lapdog.” He spits out the words like they were rotten things he could taste.
Nathalie doesn’t know what to say, what to think. She’s trapped at the top of the stairwell, and Felix won’t give her an inch of slack as he stares her down, waiting for her answer.
“That's not true,” Nathalie finally responds, but it sounds weak, even to her.
“Pathetic excuses, that’s all you have to offer.” He scoffs, turning to the side but keeping her cornered. “At least Gabriel had the decency to die when he was finished tearing Adrien’s life apart!”
At that, Nathalie’s mouth goes into a hard line, and her foot settles back on solid ground.
“Don’t say that.” Her voice is suddenly even and dangerous.
“What? The truth?” He feigns innocence. “I’m told it hurts.” His smirk is back, but it’s wild, unconcerned with appearances.
“Don’t say his name.” Nathalie says, just above a whisper. That makes Felix pause.
Then his eyes narrow with realization. “My uncle? That’s who you’re worried about?”
“I don’t care what you say about me. You’re right, I stood by for far too long. By the time I realized what he was turning into I- it was too late.” Her eyes never leave Felix’s.
“Gabriel was- He was out of his mind, but he was still Adrien’s father, and he was my…” She takes a breath. “He was loved, and he will be missed. So I would appreciate it if you watched how you spoke about him while standing in his house.” Her voice remains calm, where she knew how best to lace the words with venom.
“You’re still defending him? After everything he’s done?” Felix snarls. “He killed you, almost with his own hand!”
“And in the end, he gave his life for mine.” Nathalie returns his glare, exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Felix steps forward again, testingly, but Nathalie doesn’t move an inch.
“And his dying wish was to not let anyone ruin the few good memories him and his son shared.” One of her hands briefly clenches into a fist.
“It isn’t my secret to tell. At least not now.” She says it with a deep sigh, finally peeling her eyes off the blue boy and straightening her stance. The headache had fully settled now, squeezing the bit of brain just behind her nose until it was tender.
When she opens her eyes, Felix is standing straighter. His expression is still harsh, but his arms had lowered back to his sides. She lets out another shaky breath. Felix remains still a while longer,
Eventually, most of the malice seems to melt off his face, and he moves back to his place on the pillar to Nathalie’s side. She turns to face him, braced for his retort, but the boy stays silent.
They stay like that, silent and staring at anything but each other, for far longer than Nathalie would’ve liked.
“I do my best thinking at night.” Felix’s sudden words startle her, but she does her best not to show it. “My father, he used to order me to bed at seven o’clock sharp. But see, he never ordered me to sleep, just to bed. You get good at loopholes, living in a house like that.”
Nathalie turns her attention back to the floor.
“Whenever it got late, I’d catch snippets of my parents’ arguments. Their room was near enough to mine, and the walls were horribly thin.” There’s his dry chuckle again, sounding even more devoid of warmth now that it had earlier. “And as I got older, it seemed like every night I’d hear my mother cry.”
Nathalie turns back to face the boy. He’s staring down at the floor, arms crossed and eyes obscured by his hood. Despite his detached tone, for the first time the boy seemed to be acting his age.
“I’m sorry, that must’ve been-” He raises a hand to stop her.
“It was always brief, quiet sobs that were quickly choked back. The first time I heard her cry in earnest was the night he died. That’s always confused me.” He lets the statement hang in the air, and Nathalie feels her throat tightening again. For whatever reason, her mind rushes to the defensive, but she can’t think of anything to actually say.
“But, that was also the last time I’ve heard her cry.”
His words are like sandpaper against her skin, but she holds anymore outbursts close to her chest. It really was too late for these feelings, and part of her cursed the boy for keeping her from her bed for this long. Most of her was far more concerned with keeping her eyes locked on the ground.
Felix steps away from the pillar, further into the hall, before pausing.
“You really do care for him, don’t you.” Nathalie sputters for a moment, because she thinks he’s talking about Gabriel.
Then she sees how his hood is craned towards Adrien’s room, and her answer comes easily.
“Yes.”
The hood dips, and Felix lets out a sigh, still not turning to face her.
“You say it isn’t your secret to tell, and I suppose it isn’t mine either.” She sees one of his hands clench into a fist.
“But it is my cousin’s.” He glances at her from over his shoulder, so she can get a good look at the scowl on his face. He sets back down the hall, pausing at one of the oversized windows. He opens it, before jumping up to the windowsill and crouching down. Nathalie takes a few steps towards him.
“Officaly, I’m not due in Paris for another few days.” He turns back. “Give Adrien my best in the morning.”
She nods. “Of course.”
He nods as well, more to himself than to her. Slowly, she turns back to the stairs.
“And Nathalie?”
She turns back, the interruption spiking her headache.
Felix’s scowl fades slightly, which only serves to make her more uncomfortable, “Do mind your secrets. Afterall, you’re only human.”
With that, he launches himself out of the room, his purple suit mixing into the Parisian skyline as he disappears into the night.
Nathalie stands in the hall, sorting through her thoughts like they were the mess of scattered papers on her desk. Eventually, she groans in defeat, deciding that this would all have to wait until morning.
She pauses when she passes the portrait of Adrien and Gabriel that sits in the foyer. She regards their twin frowns cautiously, like they might come alive and suddenly turn their sour expressions on her.
When she finally makes it to her room, she has more trouble than she’d like falling asleep.