Chapter Text
Gabriel stood in the doorway of his mansion’s dining room, watching the guests mingle, sipping on champagne or sparkling juice as they chatted and laughed. He knew that he should join them. Should make at least a token effort to get to know his son’s future in-laws, but he couldn’t. The fact that this event was even happening made him feel dizzy, disconnected from reality.
How could Adrien be old enough to have a fiancée and a child on the way? That shouldn’t be possible! Not while Emilie slept on. It wasn’t supposed to take this long! She should have been returned to them years ago. Should be the one hosting this party on their son’s behalf, charming the guests with her grace and wit.
Instead Adrien was the one darting from guest to guest, switching between French and Mandarin, winning soft smiles and laughter from everyone he spoke to. So like his mother that Gabriel’s heart ached.
I’m sorry, my dears, Gabriel thought. I have failed you both for far too long. Made you miss so much time together, but don’t worry, I’ll fix it yet. Reset it all so that we can be a proper family again.
His gaze turned distant, his eyes unseeing. He was so tired as of late, but he couldn’t afford to rest. Not when the deadline was fast approaching. The day when he’d have to make the impossible choice. The day that could not be allowed to come. He had to win before then. Long before then. The sooner the better and it would happen. It had to! If he was this tired, then those foolish Chosen had to be equally exhausted. More likely to make a mistake than ever before. He just had to find the right akuma to challenge them. Something clever and near impossible to beat. Then he’d win and everything would finally be right again!
“Father, is everything alright? You’ve been standing alone for a while now,” Adrien asked, pulling Gabriel from his thoughts.
After taking a moment to collect himself, he smiled at his son and said, “My apologies, Adrien, I lost myself to memories for a moment.”
“Oh, anything worth sharing?” Adrien asked, leaning against the other side of the doorway and giving his father his full attention.
Gabriel shrugged. “I was merely reflecting on the passage of time. It’s hard to believe that you’ve already become a man in your own right.”
“It’s pretty crazy to me, too. I know that I’m technically an adult, but I don’t really feel like one. There’s still so much that I don’t know!” Adrien admitted, scratching at the back of his neck, smiling shyly.
Gabriel considered the confession, then offered, “I cannot speak to every aspect of your adult life, but I can say that you’re doing a commendable job acting as host tonight. I’ve been watching your interactions and every one of them has done our family credit. Though I must admit that, when I signed you up for Mandarin lessons, I never once envisioned that they’d help you in your personal life!”
Adrien laughed, turning his gaze towards his future mother-in-law, who was chatting with her sister and uncle in rapid Mandarin. He smiled at them fondly and said, “Yeah, it’s funny how things work out, isn't it?”
Then he glanced back at his father and sheepishly added, “I’m not sure how good a student I was, though. My accent is, apparently, still atrocious and they noticeably slow down when I’m around.”
“That is far more my fault than yours,” Gabriel admitted. “You were never anything less than diligent to every task that I threw your way. The problem was your age. It’s near impossible to gain the ear and tongue of a native speaker unless you start very young.”
Adrien shrugged. “I’m still grateful for the skills. Plus there’s no point obsessing over the past. What’s done is done and I’m very happy to focus on my future.”
As he said this, he looked towards the dining room and a soft, warm smile spread across his face.
Gabriel followed his son’s gaze, unsurprised when his eyes fell upon his future daughter-in-law. Marinette was a vision in a green-and-black dress of her own design, the subtle golden accents giving it an edge that Gabriel couldn’t help but admire. If only she had shown an interest in high fashion! She had so much promise, but subtle prodding had made it clear that she was content to keep her efforts confined to her small, online boutique. She hadn't even been interested in going to university to improve her skills!
A shame, but not anything worth obsessing over. Not when this reality would soon cease to exist. Perhaps, in the next one, he’d track her down while she was still a teen. See if she had been open to high fashion then and, if so, make an offer to train her. To shape her into a worthy successor. Especially if Adrien fell in love with her again. It would be good to keep the company in the family.
Gabriel’s idle musings ended when Marinette brought a hand to her lips, obviously hiding a yawn.
The gesture made Gabriel frown. That was far from the first yawn that he’d seen Marinette hiding and he’d caught Adrien doing the same thing more than once, just with far more grace. It concerned him, making him turn back to his son to ask, “Is everything alright? Both you and Marinette seem exhausted.”
As soon as the question had been asked, Adrien’s joy evaporated. His eyes turned distant and there was a sudden tension in his posture. He didn’t speak right away, though. He was clearly gathering his thoughts and so Gabriel waited, bracing himself for whatever bad news he was sbout to receive. He just hoped that, whatever it was, he could help. Perhaps with a check or-
“It’s these akuma attacks.”
Gabriel froze, a sudden chill racing down his spine as his eyes stayed glued to his son’s face, watching Adrien’s expression grow dark as he confessed, “I’m sure that their sudden increase has everyone a little more stressed, but we get an extra dose of it because of the baby.”
“The baby?” Gabriel prompted, somehow managing to keep the fear from his voice.
Adrien nodded, oblivious to his father’s distress, too focused on his own thoughts as he explained, “It turns out that stress carries all kinds of ‘fun’ problems for pregnancies. It increases your chances for a miscarriage and then, once that risk is gone, it turns to increased chances for a premature birth and a low birth weight. Both of which can lead to life-long health complications, so we’re doing everything that we can to keep Marinette’s mind distracted and relaxed. I’m not sure how well it’s working, though.
“Knowing the risks makes the already existing stress ever more stressful and these akuma attacks just keep coming! We’re up to almost two a day! Plus her morning sickness is making it hard for her to eat much lately and- and if something happens to her or the baby, then I will personally hunt down Papillion and beat him into a bloody pulp.”
As Adrien spoke, his expression grew ever darker, his voice turned ever harder, and his hands slowly clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles turned white.
The slow, yet dramatic transformation made Gabriel’s heart race, his mouth suddenly bone dry, his knees weak. No. No, that couldn’t be right! He couldn’t… no.
“Father, are you alright? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
Adrien’s voice brought Gabriel back to reality, his eyes darting over his son’s now concerned expression, and he found himself at a loss for words. What could he possibly say here? He didn’t know. He needed a moment. A chance to be alone. To collect his thoughts.
“I- I’m sorry. I just remembered- I need to go make a phone call,” Gabriel stammered before turning around and rushing from the room.
Gabriel had no idea how he managed to make it from the dining room to his office. He barely even registered closing the door and leaning up against it, heart racing as his son’s words echoed through his mind. ‘Miscarriage’, ‘premature birth’, ‘if something happens to her’, ‘beat him into a bloody pulp’.
“No,” Gabriel whispered, his hand coming up to bury itself in his hair. Then he continued on, his voice growing louder with every word, “No, no, no, no! I was supposed to have months left! Months!”
He paused, then continued on, his voice barely audible. “It’s- it’s barely been one…”
He pushed away from the door, walking over to stand in front of his wife’s portrait. He stared up into her lovely green eyes, so like his son’s. Then he glanced over to the adjoining wall, which was still lined with pictures of Adrien. Highlights from modeling shoots done over the years.
How could he choose? How?
He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath, considering the facts.
A good minute passed before he opened them again and, when he did, he was once more his cool, impassive self. There was no reason to panic. Not yet. Adrien was an expectant father, naturally anxious about his fiancée and yet-to-be-born child. Who knew if his fears were reasonable or not?
Research would have to be conducted. Then, once Gabriel knew the facts, he could make his call. Doctors were often overzealous when it came to these things, after all. Focused on minimizing even the slightest risks because all they had to care about was the baby and the mother. They didn’t have to weigh the risk to the unborn against the reward of setting the world right.
Gabriel nodded to himself, pleased by his conclusion. Then he straightened his hair and left his office, heading back downstairs to rejoin the party and apologize to his son for running off.
However, when he returned, he could find neither guest of honor. They’d both seemingly vanished.
He drew Nathalie aside, asking her if her keen eyes had seen anything.
Nathalie nodded. “Adrien left soon after you did and Marinette followed close behind. I’m not certain as to where they went, though. It did not seem like a coordinated effort.”
Gabriel nodded, thinking hard. Then he turned and left the dining room, striding through the hallways of his home, heading for the door that led to his wife’s private garden. Over the years, he’d often come here to remember happier times, only to find his son sitting on the bench before his wife’s statue, gazing up at her image or even talking to her. It seemed as good a place as any to start the search and he was pleased when he opened the door to find Adrien and Marinette sitting on the garden's bench, talking.
Gabriel could see at a glance that this was a private moment and he had no wish to intrude, so he began to close the door, planning to simply wait for the couple to come inside, but then Adrien's angered voice echoed through the garden, the words freezing Gabriel where he stood.
“Why go to all this effort to throw a party before the fashion weeks start if he’s not even going to take the night off! Why does he always seem to think that effort means euro signs and not just- just being here! Listening to me! Being a father!
“I thought that I’d understand him better once I had kids of my own, but I don’t! Our little miracle's not even here yet and I can’t imagine wanting anything more than to be there for every second of their life! To see their first steps, hear their first laugh, celebrate every milestone!”
Silence fell in the garden as both Marinette and Gabriel stared at Adrien. Marinette with concern. Gabriel with shock.
The anger and pain in his son’s voice were like nothing he’d ever heard from Adrien before. Clearly his absence had affected his son more than he thought! It had been a necessary sacrifice and the pain would soon be gone, rewritten with joy, but he still found himself wanting to reassure Adrien. To explain why he'd been such a poor father these past few years.
It was a familiar temptation for Gabriel. One he'd resisted because what good would it do? It wasn't as if Adrien could help, after all, but hearing his son's pain made Gabriel question that choice. Maybe it was worth confessing. Explaining why he’d done what he’d done. That it would all be okay! That he would soon get the miraculous and reset things back to how they should be. That Adrien didn't need to be sad because none of this was real. Not for long, anyway.
Gabriel took a step forward, his hand outstretched, his son’s name on his lips, but then Adrien spoke again and all plans of grand confessions died.
“How would you feel about giving our little love bug your last name instead of mine?”
Gabriel barely registered Marinette’s cry of, “What?” the reminder of his grandchild’s impending arrival making him feel sick to his stomach. He remembered Adrien's anger at the thought of anything hurting the baby because of course he felt that way. It was how a father should feel.
Gabriel’s eyes fell to Marinette as Adrien stared up at his mother and said, “It’s called a ‘family name’ right? Well, the Agrestes aren’t much of a family. But the Dupain-Chengs? You uncle’s here from China! Your Grandmother stopped her latest world tour! Despite all her fussing, your Aunt came from London with her kids and husband in tow. With barely a month’s notice, they all came from hours away, shutting down businesses and giving up on plans all for a silly fiançailles party.
"My father? My father couldn’t even stay downstairs in his own home for a party that he’s paying for.
"One of those is a family. The other? The other’s just an event sponsor.”
Gabriel wanted to scream! To make Adrien understand that everything, everything had been for him. For them! For their family! But as he looked at the young couple, watching Marinette smile up at Adrien, he realized that Adrien had a family. A soon-to-be wife and a child that he’d sworn to protect and how could Gabriel expect his son to be willing to cast all of that aside? To rejoice in the thought of losing them even if it meant regaining his mother?
He couldn’t and so he just stood there, silently watching the young couple, realizing that he was fighting to rob his son of the very same thing that he wanted to restore for himself.
It was a realization that shook Gabriel to his core, leaving him more lost than he’d ever been because where did he go from here? What did he do?
He didn’t know and so he turned and left.
He didn’t return to the party. Instead he wandered back to his office, taking the secret elevator down to his wife’s chamber. Then he sat in front of her frozen form, staring at her and thinking.
He had no idea how long he sat there before Nathalie joined him, her heels clicking over the walkway that led to his wife’s capsule.
When Nathalie reached his side, she stopped and said, “The party has ended and all of the guests have departed.”
Gabriel gave a hum of acknowledgement, then asked, “Were there any issues?”
“None whatsoever. The event was a success by all measures, though your absence was noted.
“I informed them that there had been an issue with the central piece of your new line and you had to see to it before next week’s show. No one asked any additional questions after that. They merely wished you the best of luck and sent their regrets that it had to happen tonight of all nights.”
Gabriel nodded. “An excellent excuse. Thank you, Nathalie.”
“It was my pleasure. Was there anything else you needed before I headed off to bed?” she asked, expecting to hear her employer’s usual dismissal.
Instead, he said, “Yes, actually. Do you have your tablet on you?”
“Of course,” she said, raising the device to rest in her hand, ready to perform whatever task was required of her.
Gabriel didn't even look at her as he said, “Please consult whatever reliable medical journals you can in order to see what risks are associated with the combination of stress and pregnancy.”
The question startled Nathalie, but she diligently obeyed, scouring the internet. Several minutes later, she said, “It seems that there is a consensus among the medical community that prolonged stress on a pregnant individual can lead to a myriad of risks for both mother and child. Chief among these are a risk of premature birth and low birth weight. None of the sources that I found gave a clear answer as to how high these risks are, but the matter appears to be treated quite seriously. I can do additional research to try and find hard numbers if that is what you wish.”
Gabriel shook his head, eyes never leaving his wife. “Thank you, but no. I have a different question for you now: how many akumas have I made over the past seven years?”
Nathalie froze, then frowned. “I’m afraid that number might be difficult to calculate. There were multiple akumas that never made the news and, as you know, we never kept records of our activities.”
“A hard number is not necessary. I merely request your best-effort guess,” Gabriel assured her.
Nathalie gave him a searching look before pulling up her tablet’s calculator and doing some quick math. A few seconds later, she said, “Given our average of one akuma every three days and adjusting for the past month’s increased activity, I would say that you have created a minimum of 879 akumas during your time as Papillion.”
Gabriel nodded, clearly unsurprised by the number. “Now tell me this, which is the more likely scenario: my next akuma finally winning or stress harming my unborn grandchild?”
For a long moment, Nathalie said nothing. She simply stared down at Gabriel with an unreadable expression on her face.
Then, finally, she said, “I am not a statistician.”
“And I'm still not asking for a hard number,” Gabriel countered. “I have always valued your opinion, Nathalie and that is what I am asking for now.”
Nathalie fell silent, thinking hard. Eventually, she sighed and confessed, “Every akuma brings the chance for victory. That is why we have persisted all these years. However… I see no reason to think that the next akuma would succeed where so many have failed. I also see no reason to ignore well-documented medical research in the hopes that your soon-to-be daughter-in-law will be one of the lucky ones to whom this research does not apply.”
Gabriel nodded. “And how likely is it that Adrien would take Marinette out of Paris if we offered them alternate living arrangements.”
“They hardly need our help for that!" Nathalie scoffed. "Adrien has been living off of his own savings ever since he moved out! If he wanted to leave Paris, he would’ve done it by now. They are here because they want to be here.”
The news surprised Gabriel, but only slightly. He’d reached a similar conclusion already, just under the assumption that Adrien's bills were still coming from the family funds. The further confirmation filled him with grief, making him close his eyes and breathe deeply.
Then he opened his eyes, gazing upon his wife's silent form as he said, “One more question, Nathalie, and then you may go. You are her best friend, so tell me, if I changed my wish and didn’t reset time, bringing Emilie back to us now instead sending us back to the moment when she was lost, would she ever forgive us knowing what we’d done?”
Nathalie didn’t hesitate for a second before replying, “She would not. In fact, if that were our only option, I would stop you myself.”
Gabriel finally looked up from his wife, staring at Nathalie in shock.
“If she knew what had been done in her name, the guilt would drive her mad. I will not let you do that to her or Adrien. Not for any price in the world," Nathalie decreed, voice hard, eyes steely. Then her expression returned to her normal neutrality as she asked, "Was there anything else that you needed?”
“N-no. No, I- thank you, Nathalie. You may go now,” Gabriel stuttered, eyes wide with shock.
Nathalie nodded at him. Then she turned around and left the room without a backward glance, leaving Gabriel alone with his thoughts.
And his grief.
And his ever growing despair.