Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nathalie stood in the doorway of Adrien’s room. She didn’t move. She just watched him sleep, her chest full and tight. The past few weeks had been long in so many forms, constant meetings, signing paperwork, and talks with his grandparents. But it was done now. She was officially Adrien’s guardian.

She stepped closer to his bed and softly whispered. “Adrien?”

“Mmm?” he mumbled, half-asleep. Barely noticing her presence.

“Nothing. Just checking on you,” she said.

His eyes opened for a second, then closed again. A sleepy smile crossed his face. “Good night, Mom. I love you.”

Nathalie felt like her heart skipped. She gasped, then whispered back. “Good night, Adrien. I love you too.”

She watched him for one more second, then turned and left the room. Her heart was lighter than it had been in years. As she walked down the hall, she couldn’t help it, she let out an excited leap. (Imagine Marinette lol)

Then she stopped. She stiffed.

The bodyguard was standing in the hallway. His face didn’t change much, but his eyebrows lifted. He didn’t speak, of course. He never did. But there was something in his eyes.

Nathalie froze, cheeks going red. “Oh—you saw that?” she said. “I wasn’t... I mea…I just slipped.” She waved it off like it was no big deal, giving him a sheepish grin.

He just stood there, then surprisingly smiled a little. Before he gave her two big thumbs-up.

It was small, but it meant something. He understood.

She blinked, then let out a small laugh. “Thanks,” she said, still red but smiling. “Okay, maybe I was celebrating just a little.”

He shrugged, still holding the thumbs-up. His face was calm, but it was clear that he was excited for her too.

“You’re the best,” she said. She waved, then kept walking to her room.

As she walked away, she felt even more lighthearted. Adrien had called her Mom. And her friend, the bodyguard, didn’t know how much the silent support had meant to her.

She had a son now.

And she knew, she wasn’t alone in that.

Chapter Text

It was another cozy Friday night in Nathalie's room, and the usual comfort of their late-night tradition was in full swing. The dim light from the bedside lamp filled the room in a warm glow, and the noise of Parisian nightlife echoed faintly from the streets below. Nathalie, in her favorite black pajama set, sat cross-legged on the bed, a bowl chocolate-covered almonds on the bed. Her hair was loose, and she wore a relaxed smile as she waited for Adrien to settle into his usual spot on the bed across her.

Adrien, dressed in a shirt and black shorts, slumped down, looking both nervous and excited. He glanced over at his mom, who was already munching on some almonds.

“Mom… I need your help,” he began, his voice just a little more nervous than usual.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “This is new. What’s going on?”

Adrien shifted, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. “Well… I’ve been thinking. Marinette and I have been together for a little while now, and I want to surprise her. I want to do something really special.”

Nathalie’s smile grew. She knew all about their relationship, she’d seen the way Adrien’s face lit up whenever he talked about Marinette, how natural they seemed together. She was thrilled for him. “A surprise, huh? What kind of surprise?”

Adrien glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I want it to be something simple but meaningful. I was thinking of a picnic. You know, by the Eiffel Tower. We could watch the sunset and just... relax, talk, maybe have some of her favorite snacks. I want it to be the kind of evening she’ll remember.”

Nathalie took another bite of her almonds, nodding thoughtfully. “That sounds like a great idea. Marinette’s a simple girl in the best way. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Adrien looked at her, biting his lip. “Yeah, but... what if it’s not enough? I just want her to know how much she means to me. I don’t want to mess it up.”

Nathalie chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Adrien, you’re overthinking it. She’s going to love it because it’s from you. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. Just don’t make it too complicated, keep it sweet.”

Adrien nodded, feeling a little more at ease. “Okay, so... picnic by the Eiffel Tower. I think I’m good on the plan. But, uh, I need help picking out some snacks. What do you think?”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across her face. “Ah, snacks. Well, you definitely need something sweet. Maybe a small cake, some macarons, croissants, that type of stuff. Marinette would like those, she lives in a bakery after all.”

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “Macarons! Perfect!”

“Good. But don’t forget the savory. Something light, cheese, crackers, maybe some sliced prosciutto, I don’t know. And don’t forget some sparkling water or juice. Trust me, it’s a must for the ambiance.”

“Got it,” Adrien said, making mental notes. “Okay, one last thing. Do you think I should give her a little gift? Or is that too much?”

Nathalie shook her head, laughing softly. “A small gift could be a nice touch. Maybe something meaningful, like a little trinket or maybe some flowers. Nothing over-the-top, just something to show her you’re thinking about her.”

Adrien grinned. “I know! A bracelet. I can definitely do that.”

Nathalie gave him a playful nudge. “You’ve got this, Adrien. Just focus on the moment. It doesn’t need to be some grand production. Just you and Marinette enjoying each other’s company.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Adrien said, feeling more confident now. He grabbed a few more almonds from the bowl. “I’ll make sure to keep it simple.”

As the night went on, they chatted about everything and nothing. At some point, Nathalie found herself just listening, basking in the joy of seeing Adrien so happy, so full of life.

When it was time for bed, Adrien stood up, giving his mom a hug. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“You better,” Nathalie replied. “And remember just be yourself. Marinette already loves you just the way you are.”

Adrien smiled, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest. “Thanks, Mom. Good night.”

As he left the room, Nathalie had a contented smile on her face. She was proud of the person Adrien was becoming, thoughtful, kind, and quite the romantic.

And she couldn’t wait to hear all about the surprise the next Friday.

She turned off the lamp and settled into bed. She could already imagine how the picnic would go. It didn’t matter how grand or small his gesture was. What mattered most was that Adrien was happy, and he was ready to show Marinette just how much she meant to him.

Chapter Text

Nathalie sat in the living room, curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee, her tablet in hand. She had spent the last few minutes scrolling through an article on parenting, feeling a little guilty for not being “perfect” at it. ‘10 Tips for Being a More Present and Supportive Parent.’ It seemed like a good way to ease her own doubts about being his new guardian.

Her eyes moved quickly over the advice, nodding occasionally to herself. ‘Be patient.’ ‘Give positive reinforcement.’ ‘Set clear boundaries without being overly strict.’ She highlighted a few tips, mentally noting to put them into practice. She was just about to finish reading when she heard the sound of footsteps from the hallway.

She quickly minimized the article, her heart giving a little skip, and put the tablet down on the coffee table. She stood up, smoothing her hair and preparing to greet him, her nerves returning slightly.

“Hey, Adrien!” she called out, forcing a casual tone.

Adrien appeared in the living room a moment later, his school backpack slung over one shoulder. He looked at her, then at the tablet resting on the coffee table, clearly noticing the movement.

“Hey mom, what were you doing?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Not much,” Nathalie replied quickly, stepping towards the kitchen. “Just, you know, relaxing for a second. Thought I’d make you an after-school snack. You want some?”

Adrien, still unsure, followed her into the kitchen. “Yeah, sure. What are we having?” He set his backpack on the hooked rack, his eyes shifting to the living room, where the tablet lay.

Without thinking much about it, Adrien walked over to the coffee table and picked up the tablet, flipping it over in his hands. His eyes immediately went to the screen, where the tab he’d just seen caught his attention. The words ‘10 Tips for Being a More Present and Supportive Parent’ stared back at him.

He blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Mom?” he called, walking back toward the kitchen where she was already pulling out some bread for a snack. “Are you seriously reading parenting advice?”

Nathalie froze for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, fine. Yes. It’s about parenting. I just thought I could maybe get a little better at this... you know... being your guardian thing.” She avoided his gaze for a second, feeling embarrassed.

Adrien blinked, surprised, then started to laugh. “Wait, you’re reading about parenting? Like, for real? I mean, you haven’t been doing it for a long time. But, you’re already pretty good at it.”

Nathalie gave him a weak smile. “I’m not so sure about that. I know being a parent doesn’t come with a manual and it can be hard, especially now that it’s just the two of us. I mean, you’re fifteen, Adrien. I just want to be there for you after everything that happened. And... I just want to get it right.”

Adrien softened at her words, sensing the vulnerability behind her attempt to seem like everything was under control. He climbed onto the island stool, sitting casually as he crossed his arms. “Mom, you’re doing fine. I’m not like a little kid anymore. You don’t have to read articles about how to be a good parent. I mean, I think it’s kind of nice you’re, taking it seriously, but it’s not like you’ve been messing things up.”

Nathalie smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. “You really think so?”

Adrien grinned. “Yeah. I mean, sure, you’ve lectured me about leaving my homework till the last minute and sometimes you don’t get why I need a cheese platter after school but you’ve also been there for me. When I need help, you’re there. When I just want someone to talk to, you’re there. And that’s way more important than following some list of tips.”

Nathalie chuckled, a bit of warmth growing in her chest at his words. “Well, that’s good to know. Because, honestly, sometimes I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, who does? Nobody’s perfect. I don’t need a textbook for a parent. I just need... you.” He gave her a soft, smile. “And I think you’ve got that part down.”

Nathalie’s heart swelled. She hadn’t expected him to say something so... well, mature.

“Well,” Nathalie said, a little more lighthearted, “I guess I’m not going to read another parenting article for a while then.” She reached for the tablet and got rid of the tab before setting it down. “But hey, if you ever feel like talking about it, or if you think I’m being too overbearing—”

Adrien rolled his eyes, clearly trying to stifle a grin. “Overbearing? And mom, you always talk to me when I need to. But, yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“Deal,” Nathalie said, laughing. She looked at him for a moment, then added, “Thanks, Adrien.”

Adrien smiled back, his tone casual, but there was a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Hey, it’s no big deal. We’ve got this.” He hopped down from the stool and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. “But just so you know, if you ever need advice on how to be a cool mom, you can talk to me.”

Nathalie chuckled, feeling a mixture of pride and amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Maybe parenting didn’t come with a manual, but it didn’t have to. She had Adrien’s trust and support—and that was all the guidance she needed.

Chapter Text

Nathalie tossed her keys onto the counter and turned to Adrien, who was standing in the doorway, looking excited. "You ready to go?" she asked.

Adrien’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Yeah! I can’t believe I’m actually going grocery shopping with you.”

Nathalie chuckled. “Well, it’s not that exciting, but it’s a start. You’ve never gone shopping before right?”

Adrien shook his head. "Nope. Father always had his other workers going. He said it was ‘too much work’ for me and too dangerous or something." He paused, then added, "I think you even went once right?.”

“Yes, I occasionally went when others werent able to and if I had less work that day. Anyways, today is your lucky day. Let’s see if you enjoy it,” Nathalie said, grabbing her purse. “Let’s go”

The drive to the grocery store was filled with Adrien’s questions, mostly about what kind of snacks they could buy, and if they could get ice cream. Nathalie answered all his questions, later changing the subject to which items they needed to pick up.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Adrien’s eyes lit up. “This place is huge! Do we have to go through every aisle?”

“Not every single aisle, but we’ll hit the important ones," Nathalie said, leading him toward the entrance.

As they walked through the automatic doors, Adrien looked around in awe at the colorful rows of cereal boxes and towering shelves of sweet treats. He reached out to touch a box of cereal, clearly fascinated. "There are so many kinds," he muttered.

“Pick a few favorites,” Nathalie said, handing him the shopping list. “And don’t forget we’re looking for eggs, milk, fruit, veggies and bread.”

Adrien nodded, already half-turned toward the cereal aisle. "Okay! This is fun."

They spent the next few minutes picking out various items, Adrien happily grabbing boxes of cereal, snacks, and even a few yogurts. At one point, he picked up an ice cream tub and held it up, grinning. “Can we get this?”

“Sure,” Nathalie said with a smile. “Go ahead.”

By the time they reached the produce section, Adrien was scanning the shelves for fruit. He picked out an apple and looked it over carefully, as if making a major decision. “Do you think these are good apples?” he asked.

“They look perfect,” Nathalie replied. “And don’t forget bananas, too.”

Adrien grabbed a bunch, and as they moved through the aisles, he quickly got the hang of things. By the time they got to the checkout line, his cart was full, and he was still grinning.

“This was awesome,” he said, looking at all the items they'd gathered.

“I think I could do this every week,” he said, clearly proud of himself.

“Well, I might not need you every week, but today you were a great help,” Nathalie said, chuckling. "Next time, maybe you can even help me plan the meals.”

Adrien nodded eagerly, already thinking ahead. “Yeah, and I’ll pick out all the snacks!”

They finished paying, bagged everything, and headed back to the car. Adrien was still talking about how fun it was, and Nathalie couldn’t help but laugh.

Chapter Text

The world around her was being swallowed by the vast, unforgiving snow. She stood in the middle of a desolate snowfield, the wind howling through the barren trees, and the cold biting into her skin. The landscape was silent, save for the soft hiss of the wind, and as she gazed around, she saw nothing but endless snow and ice.

Then, through the whiteness, she spotted them—Gabriel and Emilie, walking away from her. Their figures, fading into the distance, were growing smaller and smaller. Nathalie’s heart raced, panic gripping her chest as she called out to them.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

But neither Gabriel nor Emilie turned around. They kept walking, their backs to her, disappearing further into the white void of the snowstorm.

"No! Please don’t leave me!" Nathalie shouted, her voice a desperate cry, but the wind swallowed her words. They didn’t stop. They just kept walking.

Her feet felt heavy as she stumbled after them, but the snow beneath her was thick and unyielding, and every step felt like a struggle. The cold wrapped around her, a suffocating presence, and soon, she couldn’t see Gabriel or Emilie anymore, just the vast emptiness.

And then, in the stillness, she heard something. It was faint at first, a sound that almost didn’t seem real. A quiet cry.

A child’s cry.

It was faint at first, almost inaudible against the howling wind. But it grew louder, desperate.

Her heart lurched. She froze, searching the swirling snow, trying to pinpoint the source. The cry came again, but this time it wasn’t just a wail, it was more like a muffled sob, a soft, aching sound. Nathalie stumbled toward it, her legs heavy, each step a battle against the snow.

The cry was getting louder now, closer. Nathalie pushed forward, her heart racing. She had to find the child. The snowstorm was so thick she could barely see, but she kept going, driven by the sound.

And then, through the veil of snow, she saw him. A small blonde boy, standing alone in the middle of the blizzard. His clothes were tattered, torn by the harsh wind, and his face was streaked with tears. His small hands were clenched into fists, trembling with the cold, his lips moving silently, trying to say something, but no sound came out.

Nathalie’s heart broke. She wanted to rush to him, to comfort him, but something in the air made her hesitate. He was alone, but there was something so familiar about him.

The boy’s eyes flickered to the horizon, where Gabriel and Emilie had disappeared. He looked back at Nathalie, and for a brief moment, the recognition in his eyes took her by surprise. It was then that the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

This was their child.

Gabriel and Emilie’s son. The boy they had left behind. She hadn’t understood it at first, but now, the pieces clicked into place. The boy’s gaze, his fear, his desperation, he looked identical to Emilie. His parents had left him, and now he was alone in this cold, unforgiving world.

Nathalie’s heart ached for him. She could see the way his small body trembled, not just from the cold but from the overwhelming fear and loneliness that gripped him. His lips moved again, but no words escaped. The silence between them was deafening.

Without thinking, Nathalie took a step forward, her voice soft. “Hey it’s ok, you’re not alone,” she said, her words gentle, though she wasn’t sure he could hear her. She reached out, slowly, her hand extending toward the boy, hoping he wouldn’t pull away.

For a moment, the boy didn’t move, his eyes searching hers, filled with confusion and fear. But then, as if understanding something in her presence, he slowly stepped forward, his small hands trembling as he reached out for her.

Nathalie smiled, a soft, comforting gesture. She crouched down to his level, meeting him in the cold, desolate snow. The moment their hands touched, the boy let out a quiet, relieved breath, his body softening, his shoulders relaxing.

But even though he wasn’t trembling as much, there was still a deep ache in his eyes.

Nathalie smiled softly, her heart swelling with warmth. "You don’t have to be afraid anymore," she whispered. "I’m not going to leave you."

The boy nodded, his eyes finally shining with something other than fear. He stepped closer, his small body resting against hers in silent reassurance. They stood there for a moment, the snow swirling around them, but in that moment, the cold didn’t matter. The boy wasn’t alone anymore. He wasn’t abandoned.

She reached into her pack and pulled out her jacket, the thick warmth of it a contrast to the bitter cold surrounding them. She gently draped it over the boy's shoulders, wrapping him in the warmth she had to offer.

The boy looked up at her, his silent face expressing a gratitude Nathalie could feel even without words. She could see that the warmth of the jacket, the comfort of her touch, was enough to offer him something he hadn’t felt in what must have been a long, long time.

The boy’s eyes softened, the fear in them starting to fade. He wasn’t alone anymore. In that moment, Nathalie realized that she wasn’t just comforting a child. She was giving him back a sense of safety, a promise of protection.

But as she held him close, she realized that something was wrong. His eyes flickered one last time to the spot where Gabriel and Emilie had disappeared. And then, with a softness she hadn’t expected, the boy stepped back from her.

Before Nathalie could stop him, the boy slowly began to fade into the snow, his form dissolving like mist, his silent presence slipping away from her grasp.

---

Nathalie woke with a sharp inhale, the image of the boy’s face, his silent plea, still lingering in her mind. She was back in the tent, the warmth of her sleeping bag a stark contrast to the cold of the dream. Emilie and Gabriel were still sleeping. Yet, the echoes of the boy’s silent cry, his trust in her, still reverberated in her chest.

Chapter Text

Nathalie stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the familiar scent of hair dye filling the air. She’d been touching up her signature red streak, the bold color that had been part of her look for years. But today, she wanted something different. She didn’t want to make a drastic change, just something fresh to mark this new chapter. She’d always enjoyed dyeing her hair in her free time, and today was the perfect moment to mix things up.

She looked at her reflection, the bright red streak looking as vibrant as ever, but it started to feel a little too predictable. ‘What if I add more color’ she thought. Grabbing another bottle of dye, she decided to apply the color to the ends of her hair as well. A subtle change, nothing too bold, but enough to give her a new look.

She carefully worked the dye through her hair, making sure to coat the ends evenly. The rich red quickly started to blend into her dark hair, and she couldn’t help but smile as she saw the change take shape.

Once she finished applying the dye, she leaned back, glancing at the timer on her phone as she waited for it to set. The minutes passed slowly, and she decided to rinse it out and see the final result.

Standing under the cool water, she worked the dye out carefully. At first, the water ran a bright red, but as she rinsed, the color deepened. When she finally finished, she looked at her reflection again. The red that had once been bright and almost fiery had settled into a rich, maroon hue. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but it was perfect. The color was subtle, warm, and felt like the right kind of change.

Nathalie stepped out of the shower and towel-dried her hair, running her fingers through it and admiring the new shade. The maroon color suited her perfectly, still with that hint of vibrancy she loved. It was exactly the kind of change she was looking for.

She walked into the living room where Adrien was sitting on the couch, making a gift for Marinette it seemed. He looked up as she approached, raising an eyebrow at her hair.

“Whoa,” he said with a grin. “That looks great, Mom. It’s kind of a deeper red now. I really like it.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Just thought I’d try something a little different. Nothing too drastic—just a little change, my old hair was getting a bit boring.”

Adrien nodded, still smiling. “It’s cool definitely more you now.”

Adrien grinned, leaning back in the couch. “Maybe I should try it too. Could use a little more color in my life.”

Nathalie’s eyes lit up, clearly amused. “You totally should! You’d look great with some color in your hair. I’m all for it.”

Adrien laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, I was just kidding. I don’t think I’m ready for that big of a change just yet.”

“Come on, I think it could be fun. You could pull it off, I’m sure of it. Plus Marinette might like it.” Nathalie teased

Adrien chuckled again, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, right. But maybe when I want a super cool new look, I’ll give it a shot.”

Nathalie smiled, enjoying the moment with him. “Well, if you ever make up your mind, I’ve got plenty of dye for both of us.”

Adrien smiled, his gaze softening. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mom. But for now, I think I’ll stick to my luscious blonde hair.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “But if you ever want to switch it up, you know where to find me.”

Chapter Text

Adrien sat down again, his shoulders slumped, the quiet pressing in on him. His eyes flickered back to Nathalie, still standing by the window, looking distant, lost in her thoughts. The silence between them felt heavy, suffocating almost. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to find in her face, but he needed something. Some sign that she was feeling the weight of what had happened—of his father’s death.

He swallowed hard, his voice small but insistent. "Are you... okay, Nathalie? You two were friends for so long. Aren’t you sad?"

Nathalie’s gaze shifted back to him, and for the first time, something in her eyes seemed to soften, just a little. She hesitated, unsure of how to answer. The question was simple, but it opened up a space of pain she had tried so hard to avoid.

"Of course, I’m upset," she said, her voice quieter now. She stepped away from the window, moving towards him. "But... it’s complicated."

Adrien tilted his head, confusion still clouding his features. "What do you mean? You were close, you were there for him. You were his friend. Why aren’t you, I don’t know, more upset?"

Nathalie’s breath hitched slightly, her eyes momentarily flicking downward. She swallowed. The truth was a delicate thing, and she didn’t want to unravel it all now.

"Yes," she said, her voice low. "We were friends. But it wasn’t always easy."

Adrien blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Nathalie paused, carefully choosing her words. "There were problems between us... before he passed." She inhaled sharply, as if preparing herself for something she had buried deep inside. "Gabriel was always so focused, so driven by... his own vision. And sometimes, that made it hard to keep up with him. There were times when I... I didn’t always agree with the things he did, with the choices he made."

Adrien’s gaze softened, his confusion now mixing with a quiet understanding. He could sense the complexity in her words, the layers of history that had shaped their relationship. He could see how much she was holding back, and a part of him wanted to press further, but he knew she wasn’t ready to say more.

"You’re saying there were... tensions?" he asked quietly, trying to piece it all together.

"Yes," Nathalie admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But in the end, we’re still connected in a way. Even if things were difficult, we were still... there for each other, I guess." She looked at Adrien then, her expression as neutral as ever, but her eyes carried a depth of emotion that she was careful to keep hidden. "It wasn’t always the way you might have seen it. But he mattered to me."

Adrien’s heart twisted in confusion. "But, you two were engaged, right?" His voice cracked slightly, the grief he had been pushing aside bubbling up. "You lived together, worked together. It was more than that. I saw how you two were."

Nathalie stiffened, a slight flicker of discomfort crossing her face, but she quickly masked it. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the suspicion in his eyes, and she knew this moment was inevitable. The truth, the full truth, would be far too dangerous. So she took a breath and lied, something she had become far too good at over the years. “No we weren’t engaged, just friends, sometimes.” She said dryly, avoiding his eyes.

"Why were you wearing the ring, the day you got akumatized?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharper, his gaze narrowing. "That was my mother’s ring."

Nathalie’s stomach churned, but she kept her face neutral. "Gabriel needed me to keep it safe," she said, her voice calm, careful. "He... lost it once. The ring, it has... significance. He asked me to hold onto it, to keep it secure."

Adrien looked at her, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "But why couldn’t he keep it hidden or something?"

She shrugged slightly, her eyes meeting his with a soft but deliberate calm. "He trusted me, Adrien," she said gently. "I was there for him when no one else was. And when he asked me to keep the ring safe, I didn’t question it."

Adrien’s confusion deepened, but it made sense in a way. He had no reason to doubt Nathalie’s words, not when the world was already spinning out of control. So, he nodded slowly, the unease settling deeper in his chest but not yet fully understanding why.

"I guess that makes sense," he murmured, rubbing his forehead as if trying to erase the confusion. His voice cracked again, this time quieter.

He had always thought of Nathalie and Gabriel as a constant, as if their connection was some kind of steady force. But now, hearing Nathalie speak of their relationship in this way, it made him wonder just how much he hadn’t seen.

"Did you... love him?" Adrien asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

Nathalie’s eyes darkened for just a moment, the weight of the question catching her off guard. But she stayed silent, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Adrien noticed her silence and took a breath, his shoulders sagging. "I guess it doesn’t matter," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Nathalie stayed by the window, her eyes lost in the distant lights outside. "It does matter," she finally said softly, breaking the silence, but her voice was distant, as if she was talking to herself more than to Adrien. "Just... not in the way you think."

Adrien nodded, though the ache in his chest didn’t lessen.

Chapter Text

The days following the defeat of Monarch were heavy and suffocating. Nathalie had tried to keep it together for Adrien’s sake. The weight of her responsibilities, the guilt from her past decisions, and the uncertainty of her new role in his life were all weighing on her, pushing her to the edge.

It started subtly. At first, she would catch herself absentmindedly nibbling at her nails when things felt a little too overwhelming. A glance at the paperwork piling up on her desk, the looming decisions about Adrien’s future, and the quiet, empty house were all constant reminders of just how much had changed.

Each day, her habit worsened. At first, it was just a light, quick bite to her nails—a fleeting distraction. But as the hours passed, it became something more. Nathalie’s nerves began to fray, and she found herself doing it more often, trying to calm her nerves in tiny ways that no one noticed.

She didn’t let Adrien or Gorilla see how much she was struggling, especially Adrien. He had enough to worry about. He was still mourning the loss of his father, still processing everything that had happened. She didn’t want to burden him with her own inner chaos.

But the stress didn’t ease. It was relentless. One evening, as the sun dipped low and the house fell into a strange, quiet stillness, Nathalie sat at her desk, her hands shaking as she reviewed yet another piece of paperwork. Her stomach churned, and a tightness gripped her chest. She rubbed her temples, trying to soothe the building tension, but it only seemed to grow worse.

Her fingers moved toward her lips without thinking, almost like an automatic response. She began chewing at her nails again, her teeth digging into the edges. It was a small thing, but in that moment, it was the only way she could focus. But it wasn’t enough this time.

Nathalie’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but the fear, the pressure—it suddenly became too much to bear. Her hands trembled violently as she gnawed at her nails harder, desperately trying to find relief. The thoughts in her head were spinning, and she couldn’t make them stop. Every decision felt too big. Every step felt wrong.

Then, she felt it—a tightness in her chest, a wave of dizziness, and the feeling of being completely trapped inside her own mind. Her vision blurred, and she couldn’t breathe properly. Panic. Panic rising like a tidal wave, crashing through her control.

She pulled her hand away from her mouth and pressed her palm to her forehead, trying to steady herself. But it only made things worse. Her heart was racing. Her thoughts were fragmented, chaotic, spiraling.

The door to the study creaked open.

"Nathalie?" Adrien’s voice was soft, hesitant, and it cut through the haze of panic in her mind. He stepped inside, his gaze immediately falling on her—eyes wide with concern.

Nathalie didn’t even realize what she was doing until she felt his eyes on her. Her fingers were clenched around the edge of the desk, and her nails were visibly chewed down, red and raw. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, like she couldn’t catch a breath no matter how hard she tried.

"Adrien... I—" She couldn’t finish the sentence. The words felt like they were caught in her throat. The fear she’d been holding in for days, the crushing weight of being thrust into this new role, was threatening to swallow her whole.

Adrien took a few steps forward, his expression softening as he stood next to her, reaching out slowly. "Nathalie..." He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding in the chaos of her mind. "I can see you're stressed, and I know things are a lot right now. But I want you to know you're doing an amazing job. You really are."

Nathalie’s eyes met his, but her mind was still racing. She could feel the panic lingering, squeezing her chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

"You're doing so much for me," Adrien continued, his voice warm and steady. "I know this isn’t easy, but you’ve been there for me, and that means everything. I know it might not feel like it right now, but you’re doing a great job."

Before Nathalie could respond, Adrien carefully moved closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle, reassuring hug. It wasn’t just a hug of comfort—it was one of recognition, of understanding.

The warmth of his embrace, the security in his gesture, seemed to wash over her in a way she hadn't expected. Slowly, the tightness in her chest loosened just a little. She felt herself clinging to that moment, that connection with him, even as the storm inside her hadn’t completely passed.

"I don’t feel like I am," Nathalie whispered, her voice fragile. "I feel like I’m failing you. I don’t know how to handle all of this."

Adrien pulled back slightly, just enough to look her in the eyes. "You’re not failing me," he said firmly. "You’ve done so much already. You’re here for me, and that’s what matters. You’re doing an amazing job, and you don’t need to be perfect. I’m proud of you."

The reassurance in his words, the sincerity, brought a sense of calm that Nathalie hadn’t felt in days. She wasn’t perfect, and she didn’t need to be. She could take it one day at a time. Adrien wasn’t asking for perfection. He just needed her to be there, and that was something she could do.

A small, tired smile tugged at her lips as she absorbed his words. "Thank you, Adrien," she said softly, feeling the panic finally begin to recede.

He smiled back, his gaze warm. "Maybe, you could try painting your nails next time instead of biting them. I hear it can help distract you." His tone was light, like he was trying to offer a simple solution to a small habit, but it was exactly the kind of suggestion that, for some reason, made Nathalie feel a little better.

She raised an eyebrow, a brief, faint laugh escaping her lips. "Painting my nails?"

"Yeah," Adrien said, shrugging with a grin. "It’s something simple to focus on, and the color will keep you from biting them. Worth a try, right?"

Nathalie nodded, the thought lingering in her mind. It was a small thing, but sometimes small things made all the difference. "I’ll consider it," she said quietly, feeling a little lighter.

As Adrien stood to leave, he gave her one last look. "Remember, you’re doing great. Don’t doubt that."

Nathalie watched him go, her heart a little fuller, the weight on her chest not so crushing anymore.

Chapter Text

Nathalie stood outside the hospital room, her heart racing in her chest. She had waited so long for this moment, the moment she would finally meet Emilie and Gabriel's newborn son, baby Adrien. The soft murmur of voices filtered through the door, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the tiny, delicate life waiting on the other side.

The door opened, and Gabriel stepped out, his face beaming with joy.

"Nathalie," he greeted warmly, stepping aside to let her in. "She's ready. Come meet him."

Nathalie felt a flutter of nerves. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited, she adored Emilie and Gabriel, but holding a newborn, especially one so tiny, made her nervous. What if she held him wrong? What if he did not like her? What if she dropped him? Her palms were suddenly clammy as she stepped into the room.

Emilie was lying on the bed, looking exhausted but glowing with happiness. In her arms, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, was a small, fragile bundle. Adrien.

Gabriel moved closer to Emilie, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "Go ahead, Nathalie," he said with a soft smile, motioning toward the baby. "Come meet him."

Nathalie approached slowly, her hands trembling slightly as she took in the sight of the tiny baby. He was so small, barely more than a few hours old, and her heart clenched at the thought of how delicate he was.

Emilie smiled up at her, her eyes warm. "Would you like to hold him?" she asked, her voice calm, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Nathalie froze, her breath catching. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice betraying her nerves. "I'm afraid I might do something wrong, I’ve never held a baby before."

Gabriel chuckled softly, the sound full of reassurance. "It's okay, Nathalie. We trust you."

Emilie nodded, her smile never wavering. "Don’t worry. Just hold him carefully. We’re here."

Nathalie hesitated for a moment, then slowly extended her arms. Emilie gently placed Adrien into her hands, and Nathalie felt her heart skip a beat. He was so light, so fragile, as though he could break with a single wrong move.

She held him with both hands, supporting his tiny head with one hand, her other cradling his back. Adrien’s soft breath brushed against her palm, and for a moment, Nathalie was frozen in awe.

Then, to her surprise, Adrien’s eyes fluttered open. His gaze locked onto hers, and, incredibly, the corners of his tiny mouth twitched into a smile—a small, sweet, unmistakable smile.

Nathalie’s breath caught in her throat. “Did he… smile?” she asked, stunned.

Emilie and Gabriel shared a look, their smiles deepening. Emilie nodded. “I think he did.”

Gabriel chuckled softly. "Looks like he already likes you."

Nathalie stared down at the little face in her arms, her heart swelling with a rush of warmth. There was something so knowing about his smile, as if he recognized her, as if he understood that she was there for him. That in this moment, she was part of his life.

She swallowed, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ll protect you forever," she whispered, her words meant just for him.

The smile on Adrien's face seemed to widen, and Nathalie felt a fierce protectiveness rise up inside her. She wasn’t just holding a baby; she was holding a promise. A promise to always protect him, to care for him, just as she had for Emilie and Gabriel.

For a few moments, she stayed there, cradling Adrien, feeling her fears slowly dissolve as she marveled at his tiny, perfect form. The world seemed to fall away as she looked into his eyes, her heart full of love and commitment.

This was only the beginning, she realized. And from that moment on, she would be there for him,every step of the way.

“I’ll protect you forever,” she whispered again, more firmly this time.

Chapter Text

Nathalie stood by her bedroom window, staring out at the quiet street. The sky was overcast, the clouds hanging low like the weight that pressed on her chest. Adrien was upstairs, laughing with someone on his phone, probably talking with Marinette, the sound of his happiness drifting down to her. It had been three weeks since Gabriel made the wish. Three weeks since Adrien's parents, his mother and father, had officially been ripped away from him, leaving a hole in his world that Nathalie had never expected to fill.

She hadn't planned on becoming his guardian. She hadn’t expected to be the one to step in when his world crumbled. But when the call had come, when the weight of responsibility had fallen on her, she didn’t hesitate. She transformed the family home into a place where Adrien could feel some semblance of normalcy. Her days were spent making him meals, helping him with homework, and listening as he talked about his girlfriend, friends, school and occasionally his parents. She had loved him from the first moment she met him as a baby, and now, she loved him even more.

But today was different. Today, the call came from his biological grandparents, the ones she had never met and who had lived all the way at London. The lawyer’s voice had been calm, measured, as he explained the situation. Adrien’s grandparents were looking to claim custody of him. It was their legal right, after all. They hadn’t been in his life much until now, but that didn’t matter.

Nathalie’s heart had dropped when the call ended. She had expected this moment to come, but now that it had, she wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t ready to let go of him. Not yet.

She walked through the house, her footsteps heavy as she tried to make sense of it all. She had made this space for him. She had made this place a home. But now, she was faced with the reality of losing him to strangers, to people who didn’t know the boy who had come to her for comfort and warmth.

She sat down on the couch, the weight of the call still pressing down on her chest. What if he wanted to go? What if he wanted to leave? He had always talked about his grandparents when he was younger, mentioned them in passing when he spoke of his childhood, but there was no love in his voice when he said their names.

But what if things were different now? What if they came and offered him a life she couldn’t? What if he wanted to go live with them, to be with family, to be loved by blood? Nathalie knew she couldn’t be selfish. She had to think of what was best for Adrien, even if it meant letting him go.

The thought tore at her. She loved him like her own. She had already started to picture a future for them, one where they both healed, one where they lived side by side. But now she felt small, unworthy of taking on that role. What did she have to offer him? She was a woman with her own life, her own struggles, and she’d never considered herself a mother. Adrien deserved someone who could give him more than just the crumbs of affection she could offer.

That night, as she sat down to dinner with him, her hands trembled slightly as she placed the food in front of him. He noticed, his gaze flicking up from his plate to hers, concern in his eyes.

“Nathalie?” he asked softly, his voice hesitant. “Is everything okay?”

She forced a smile, the familiar ache in her chest growing. “Of course, Adrien. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press. They ate in silence, and Nathalie’s mind churned with possibilities, none of them good. The thought of leaving Adrien alone with his grandparents gnawed at her.

Later that night, she lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. What was she supposed to do? She needed a plan. She couldn’t keep living in this house if it meant facing the possibility of losing him. She would need a place of her own. Somewhere she could be free, somewhere she could figure out what to do next. But what would happen to Adrien? Would he still want to come visit her? Would he want to come back to this house, to the home they had built together?

Nathalie’s heart hurt with the thought, but she knew she couldn’t hold him back from a life that was meant for him. She had already done what she could, for however long she had with him.

She opened her phone and began looking up apartments—small places, nothing too fancy—but each one felt like another door closing between her and Adrien. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being so far away, not after all they had shared.

Where would she go? She had no idea. She needed a place of her own, a space that wasn’t defined by grief and loss. Something small. Cozy. But then, the thought hit her. Would she be too presumptuous to look for a place that would feel like a home for her and Adrien, even though he might never be a permanent part of it?

Would it be wrong to even think of getting a two-bedroom apartment? One room for herself, and the other for him—for when he visited. Would that make her seem entitled? Would he even want to visit? She ran a hand through her hair, her nerves tightening. She had no right to assume he’d want to come back to her. What if he wanted to go live with his grandparents and never look back?

She bit at her nails again, her thoughts spiraling. If she got a place with a second bedroom and Adrien never wanted to come see her, it would be like admitting she was expecting him to choose her over his blood relatives. But if she didn’t, if she didn’t create a space for him, would that make her seem like she didn’t care enough? She didn’t want to be a stranger to him.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. No matter how hard it was, she had to let him go if that was what was best for him. She couldn’t keep him clinging to her out of obligation. But how could she make a decision when she felt so unworthy? How could she plan for a future without knowing what Adrien wanted, needed, or even felt?

With a sigh, she grabbed her phone, still open to apartment listings, and hesitated. The ones that had caught her eye were all one-bedrooms, which made sense. But the thought of a second bedroom kept tugging at her—was it silly? A bedroom for Adrien? She bit her nails again, chewing on the edges, the pressure in her chest growing.

Finally, she tapped on a listing for a small two-bedroom apartment. It was affordable and in a quieter part of town, far enough from the city’s chaos. But would it be too much? She pressed her lips together. She could always change it later, right? She could always rent a smaller place if it felt wrong, if it felt like she was overstepping. But for now, she couldn’t help herself. She added it to her favorites.

Chapter Text

Adrien and Marinette were lounging on the couch, controllers in hand, ready for another round of their favorite video game. The room was dimly lit by the glow of the TV screen, and the sounds of the game echoed around them.

“This is it. This time, I’m definitely winning,” Adrien said confidently, his fingers poised over the buttons.

Marinette raised an eyebrow, smiling. “You say that every time. Are you sure you’re not just trying to make yourself feel better from the times I’ve beat you?”

Adrien laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

Just then, Nathalie walked into the room holding a tray full of snacks—chips, cookies, and two sodas—and set it down on the coffee table. “I thought you might need some energy for your game,” she said, looking at the two of them with a small smile.

“Thanks, Mom!” Adrien said, grinning up at her as he reached for a cookie.

Marinette smiled, also grabbing a chip. “Yeah, thanks, Nathalie! You’re the best.”

Nathalie chuckled softly. “Enjoy, you two,” she said, then turned to leave. “I’ll be in my room reading if you need me.”

Adrien grinned, an idea forming in his head. “Wait! Mom, why don’t you join us? We could use a third player!”

Nathalie gave him an amused look. “Me? You really want me to play with you two?”

“Come on, Mom! It’ll be fun,” Adrien said, nudging her gently. “We’ll go easy on you.”

Marinette added, “It’s just for fun! You don’t need to be a pro.”

Nathalie rolled her eyes but gave a playful shrug. “Alright, alright. But go easy on me at first.”

She sat down on the couch beside them, and Adrien handed her a controller. The game began, and Nathalie awkwardly pressed a few buttons, trying to figure out how to move her character. Within seconds, she was knocked out of the game by Adrien’s character.

“Well, that was fast,” she said dryly, clearly not impressed.

Adrien grinned, leaning back. “You just have to get used to it, Mom. It’s all about timing and strategy.”

“Right…” Nathalie muttered, watching Adrien and Marinette’s characters. “I’ll get the hang of it, I’m sure.”

Adrien leaned over and adjusted the settings for the next round. “No worries. You’ll be a pro in no time!”

Nathalie, now determined, started paying closer attention to the game. She watched how Marinette and Adrien moved their characters, noticing patterns and attacks they relied on. Slowly, she got the hang of the controls. Instead of pressing random buttons, she started trying to time her jumps and attacks more carefully.

At first, it was still a bit clumsy, but little by little, Nathalie found herself dodging Adrien’s attacks and even getting a few hits in. She began to realize that the key was to wait for the right moment to strike.

A few rounds later, Nathalie’s character had made a solid comeback. Adrien, distracted by his own character’s actions, didn’t notice her quietly learning his moves. With one swift move, Nathalie knocked his character out of the game.

Adrien froze, his eyes wide. “Wait—how did you do that?”

Nathalie leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a grin. “I guess I’m not as bad as you thought.”

Marinette laughed. “I can’t believe it! Nathalie, you actually beat Adrien!”

Adrien groaned, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re the one who beat me, Mom.”

Nathalie smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “Told you, I just needed a little practice.”

Adrien grinned sheepishly. “Alright, alright. I guess I’ll have to step up my game.”

“Yeah, looks like you might need to,” Nathalie teased, enjoying her victory.

Adrien laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You’re better than I thought.”

Chapter Text

The mansion was unusually quiet as Adrien walked down the hallway, seeking something to do to pass the time. He knocked lightly on Nathalie’s door, and when she gave her usual permission to enter, he stepped in.

“Hey, Nathalie,” he began, smiling. “I was thinking... maybe we could do a little cleaning around here. You know, nothing too intense, just tidying up a bit.”

Nathalie, who had been sitting on her bed, looked up, slightly startled. “Oh, uh, you don’t need to do that, Adrien. I’ve got it covered.”

But Adrien wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “Come on, I’m kind of bored anyway. And besides, it’ll be fun!”

Nathalie hesitated, then sighed. “Alright, if you insist.” She didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. Plus, she honestly needed some help to organize her now messy room.

The two of them began picking things up and organizing. Adrien moved toward a corner of the room that seemed to have a bit more clutter than the rest of the space. As he pushed aside a few boxes, something caught his eye: a dusty, old chest tucked under the bed.

"What's this?" Adrien asked, bending down to lift the lid, clearly intrigued.

Nathalie immediately stiffened and froze, her eyes widening. "No! Don’t open that!" she cried out, but it was too late. Adrien had already yanked the lid open, and the contents spilled out before her eyes.

Inside were piles of clothes—black leather jackets, ripped band tees, chains, and the unmistakable smell of aged fabric. It was the kind of stuff you’d expect to find in a goth or rock band’s wardrobe.

Adrien’s jaw dropped as he pulled out a black leather jacket adorned with studs. “Wait... hold up. Is this yours?” He looked up at her in shock. "You were a total... rockstar?"

Nathalie’s face went pale, then bright red. “NO!” she exclaimed, grabbing the jacket out of his hands. “It’s... it’s not what it looks like!”

But Adrien was already having the time of his life, pulling out a band t-shirt. “Aha! Look at this! Yes you were!”

“Put that down!” she hissed, lunging to grab the shirt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I—I was going through a phase, okay?” Her hands were trembling as she shoved the clothes back into the chest, trying to salvage any shred of dignity.

Adrien, grinning from ear to ear, held up a pair of black combat boots. “These are... AMAZING! You used to wear these? You were a whole other person back then.”

Nathalie’s face was beet-red. “I was experimenting with my style! I didn’t want to look so... so boring all the time!” She practically threw the boots back into the chest, but Adrien didn’t stop.

He grabbed a spiked choker from the pile and held it out like it was some treasure. “And this? A choker? You were literally a walking rock band! What else is in here, a guitar?”

Nathalie growled in frustration, her hands on her hips. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

Adrien raised his hands in mock surrender. “Nope but don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your rock star look—though, I gotta admit, I’m kind of tempted.” He turned the choker in his hands dramatically, like he was about to put it on.

“NO!” Nathalie shouted, lunging forward to grab it. She didn’t want to admit that a small part of her didn’t feel ridiculous for ever having worn it in the first place. "This was YEARS ago! And I don’t need you going around telling anyone about this, alright? I was just... I was... going through a thing."

Adrien’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You were totally going through something! You were a rebel—look at this stuff! I mean, can you imagine? The dignified assistant, secretly a rock star?

Nathalie grabbed the chest, practically dragging it under the bed. “That’s it! I’m locking this up forever. You will never speak of this again. Do you hear me?”

Adrien leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms and smiling like he’d just uncovered a monumental secret. “You know, I’m starting to think I need to see you in this stuff. Just for fun, of course.”

Nathalie was practically steaming. “I—This was a phase, Adrien! A phase I don’t ever want to talk about again. So please, for the love of all that’s holy, forget you ever saw this.”

“Nope,” Adrien said with a grin. “Never.”

Eventually the room was almost entirely clean, save for a few stray items.

Adrien, having finally cleared the last pile of books from the floor, sat down on her bed and stretched. “I think that’s about everything,” he said with a sigh. “Wow, I never realized you had so much stuff under the bed”.

Adrien leaned over to a small bookshelf near her desk. He pulled out a thick photo album, dusting it off. “What’s this? You’ve got a lot of old pictures in here?”

Nathalie froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the album. “Oh no... put that down.”

But Adrien, already flipping through the pages, smiled. “What’s this? You, uh, in your old style?” He pointed to a photo where Nathalie was much younger, standing beside a very familiar-looking figure: her younger self, dressed in a studded leather jacket, ripped jeans, and dark makeup, her red-and-black hair styled in a way that still looked a little messy but full of character. And beside her was his father, also younger, in a similar punk-inspired look—black shirt, silver chains, and dark jeans.

Nathalie’s breath caught in her throat. She stepped forward, trying to snatch the album away from him, but Adrien was quicker. “Wait, you and my dad? Were you—?”

“Give me that,” Nathalie hissed, but Adrien was already staring at the photo in disbelief. He squinted at his father’s younger face, still holding that same sense of mystery and intensity. But it was the image of Nathalie, her unrestrained, rebellious self that caught his attention.

“This is... wow. This is you?” Adrien said, his voice filled with awe and a little shock. “You and my dad were... that close? How long have you two known each other?”

Nathalie stood frozen in place, avoiding his gaze. “I... don’t want to talk about it.”

Adrien noticed the tightness in her voice and frowned. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain it. I just didn’t know you and my father went through a phase like this. It’s hard to picture him like that, honestly.”

She forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. He wasn’t always the guy you knew.” Nathalie was visibly uncomfortable, her fingers twitching as though wanting to rip the page out and hide it forever.

Adrien stood up. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He hesitated for a second, then added, “But hey, I still think you’d look pretty cool in some of that stuff. Maybe not the chains, but... you know, the jacket’s kind of amazing.”

Nathalie managed a half-smile as she stood up to walk him to the door. “Thanks, Adrien. But no. That’s... not me anymore.”

---

Later that night, after Adrien had gone to bed, Nathalie sat alone in her room. The night was still and quiet, and for the first time all day, Nathalie felt a strange, lingering nostalgia for her old life. She had tried so hard to bury that part of her, to push it all down in favor of the “professional” Nathalie Sancoeur that the fashion world knew. The woman who was always calm, collected, and composed.

But as she sat on her bed, the memory of her younger, freer self seemed to call out to her. She glanced at the chest under the bed—the one full of her old clothes. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she crawled over and opened it again. She pulled out the black leather jacket and held it in front of her, running her fingers over the studs.

Her heart ached for a moment. She missed the freedom of that time, the feeling of doing something just for herself, before everything became about duty and responsibility. Before everything became about the Agrestes.

Without thinking, she slipped the jacket on. The cool leather was comforting against her skin, and as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that same spark in her eyes—the one she hadn’t seen in so long. The one she had buried for so many years.

Her hands moved automatically to her hair, tugging the red and black strands into place, and she suddenly felt a surge of energy, a rush of confidence. It felt... good.

But before she could go too far, she quickly tore the jacket off, almost as if embarrassed by her own weakness. Nathalie tossed it back into the chest and slammed the lid shut.

“That was... a mistake,” she muttered, as if trying to convince herself.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret, a yearning for a version of herself that no longer existed. But the truth was, that side of her wasn’t gone. It was just waiting for the right moment to come back.

Chapter Text

At twenty-five, Nathalie couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. The thrill of adventure, the excitement of exploring new places and discovering hidden wonders, had been replaced by the monotonous routine of assistant work and babysitting. Sure, her role as Gabriel’s assistant was important, and Adrien was a wonderful child to look after, but there was a part of her that longed for more.

She’d had once traveled across the globe, trekking through dense jungles, climbing mountains, and exploring ancient ruins. She’d uncovered artifacts, deciphered old texts, and experienced the world in ways that most people only dream of. But all of that seemed like a distant memory now.

Now, her life revolved around schedules, phone calls, and making sure Adrien stayed out of trouble. It was fulfilling in its own way, but she missed the thrill of her old adventures.

One day, as she watched Adrien racing around the mansion, full of energy, Nathalie couldn’t help but think: He needs something more than just running around here.’

“Adrien, slow down!” she called out, as he zipped past her, nearly knocking over a vase.

“I’m bored, Nathalie!” Adrien pouted, slumping down beside her on the couch. “Can we do something fun?”

Nathalie looked at him, and then, a thought struck her. ‘What if I gave him an adventure?’ Maybe, just maybe, it would also help her feel like she was reconnecting with that part of herself that she felt she has lost.

“What about rock climbing?” Nathalie asked, her eyes lighting up. “I used to love climbing when I was younger. It’s fun, and it’s a great way to burn off all that energy.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Rock climbing? Can we really do that?”

She smiled. “We can, if you want. I’ll take you to a climbing gym. You can start on the easy walls, and we’ll see how it goes.”

Adrien jumped up, thrilled by the idea. “Let’s go now!”

But Nathalie hesitated. This wasn’t going to be an easy sell, especially not to Gabriel and Emilie. Gabriel, in particular, was protective of Adrien—probably too protective at times. She would need to convince them.

Later that day, Nathalie stood in front of Gabriel’s desk, watching him as he flipped through some papers. Emilie next to him as they were discussing something.

“Gabriel, Emilie,” Nathalie began, trying to sound casual. “Adrien’s been asking to do something fun, something more... adventurous. I was thinking of taking him rock climbing. What do you think?”

Gabriel didn’t look up from his papers. “Rock climbing?” His voice was sharp, as if the idea itself was preposterous. “He’s only five, Nathalie. That’s dangerous.”

“I’ve looked into it,” Nathalie said quickly, trying to reassure him. “There are gyms with walls specifically for children. It’s all supervised. He’d have safety harnesses and instructors there with him. It’s perfectly safe.”

Emilie, who had been listening intently, finally looked up from her book, her expression thoughtful. “Rock climbing? It sounds... risky for a child.”

Nathalie gave her a small, knowing smile. “We used to do it when we were younger, remember? We traveled to ancient ruins, hiked through jungles, and even climbed up cliffs in remote areas to find artifacts. I know the safety precautions. I’d be with him the whole time.”

Emilie raised an eyebrow. “That was a different life, Nathalie. Things are different now. Adrien is so young, and you know how Gabriel worries.”

Gabriel sighed. “You’re right. I worry about him getting hurt. But... if it’s really safe, then I suppose it might be alright.”

Nathalie nodded. “I promise I’ll keep an eye on him. And we’ll start small—just the beginner walls to see how he does.”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “You’re going to make sure he doesn’t push himself, right?”

“Of course,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Gabriel and Emilie exchanged a look. Finally, Gabriel relented. “Alright. But I expect regular updates.”

“Agreed,” Nathalie said. “Thank you.”

The following weekend, Nathalie took Adrien to the climbing gym, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The gym was bright and lively, filled with kids climbing walls of all different colors. Adrien’s face lit up as soon as they entered, his eyes wide with wonder.

“Nathalie, look at all the walls!” he exclaimed, tugging on her hand. “I wanna climb them all!”

Nathalie chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Let’s start with something easy. You’re still small, but you’ve got a lot of energy. I think you’ll be great at this.”

After a brief safety briefing and a quick harnessing session, Adrien was ready to go. He looked up at the climbing wall in front of him, eyes determined. “I’m going to climb it all the way to the top!” he declared.

Nathalie grinned. “I know you can do it. Just take your time.”

As Adrien started his climb, Nathalie couldn’t resist the pull of her own adventure. She hadn’t climbed in years, but seeing Adrien so determined made her realize how much she missed it.

“Excuse me,” she called to the instructor. “Do you mind if I join in? Just for fun?”

The instructor smiled. “Go right ahead. We have walls for all skill levels.”

Nathalie grinned back and quickly put on her own harness. As she reached for the first hold on a nearby wall, memories of her past adventures flooded back—climbing cliffs in far-off lands, scaling crumbling ruins, and feeling the rush of achievement when she reached the top. It had been so long since she’d felt that excitement. It felt good to be back, even if just for a moment.

As she started up the wall, Adrien looked over and grinned. “You’re climbing too, Nathalie! You’re so fast!”

“Keep up, Adrien,” she teased as she reached the top of her wall. It wasn’t the highest or the hardest, but it felt like an accomplishment. Adrien, not far behind, cheered her on.

Together, they climbed for the next hour. Adrien was a natural, scaling the walls with ease, and Nathalie found herself laughing and enjoying the moment, just as she had when she was younger.

Maybe her life wasn’t full of ancient artifacts and lost temples anymore, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find new kinds of adventure with Adrien.

Chapter Text

On a Tuesday morning, Adrien woke up feeling off. His body ached, his head felt like it was filled with cotton, and his throat was sore. He groaned quietly as he rolled over in bed, trying to muster the energy to get up. It was only then that he realized his whole body felt like it had been hit by a truck.

He managed to drag himself out of bed and stumble into the kitchen, but even the smell of coffee made his stomach churn. Nathalie, who was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast, immediately noticed the change in his demeanor.

"Adrien," she said softly, her eyes scanning him with concern. "You don't look well. Are you feeling okay?"

Adrien rubbed his forehead, trying to push through the haze of sickness. "I’m fine, just a little tired, I guess," he replied, though his voice was hoarse and thin, betraying his lie.

Nathalie frowned, placing the frying pan down and walking over to him. She placed the back of her hand against his forehead, her brows furrowing in concern when she felt how warm he was. "You’re burning up," she said, her voice laced with worry. "You need to lie down. You’re clearly not okay."

Adrien wanted to argue, but his body protested, a wave of dizziness washing over him. "It’s just a cold, Mom, I’ll be fine," he muttered, but Nathalie was already taking charge.

"No arguments," she said firmly, guiding him back toward his bedroom. "You're not going anywhere like this."

“I’m fine, Mom,” he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion. “I don’t need to go to bed. I’ll just take some medicine and keep going. Really, I’m fine.”

Nathalie frowned. “No, you’re not fine, Adrien. You need rest. Please just go lie down.”

Adrien shook his head. “I don’t want to waste the day sleeping, Mom,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be fine. Father always told me to get over it. He said... I should just push through.”

Nathalie’s expression tightened, the words cutting through her like a knife. She knew the way Gabriel had treated Adrien, especially when he was sick. His “get over it” approach had always been so cold, and it never sat right with her. But she wasn’t going to let Adrien push himself the same way. Not under her watch.

"Adrien," she said gently but firmly, "you don’t have to do what your father told you to. You don’t have to go through this alone like you did back then."

Adrien looked down, his throat tight as he fought to suppress the feelings that came rushing to the surface. "I’m used to it," he mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes. "He always told me it wasn’t a big deal. I’ve gotten used to pushing through it." Adrien clenched his fists tightly, feeling embarrassed by the vulnerability creeping up on him. “I don’t want to be a burden,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to bother you with this.”

She took his hand gently in hers, her voice calm but full of affection. “You’re not a burden, Adrien. You never have been. You’re my son now, and I’m here to take care of you. That’s what family does.”

Adrien swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words settle deep in his chest. The idea of being cared for, of letting someone else tend to him without feeling like he was doing something wrong, felt strange. It was a new kind of vulnerability, one that he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

But seeing the earnestness in his mother’s eyes, hearing the softness in her voice, he finally gave in. He felt a wave of exhaustion crash over him. Maybe it was okay to lean on her.

“Okay,” he whispered, looking at her with a reluctant but grateful smile. “I’ll go to bed. I just... I don’t want to make you worry.”

Nathalie smiled warmly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face. “I’m already worried,” she said, her voice tender. “But that’s because I care about you. So just rest now, okay? I’m right here.”

Adrien nodded weakly, too tired to argue anymore. Nathalie helped him settle back into bed, pulling the blankets up around him, and placed the cool washcloth back on his forehead. Adrien tried to protest again, but she was already on the phone, calling his doctor to schedule an appointment for after he’s cured.

As she hung up, she returned to his side, gently lifting his head to give him a glass of water. "Drink this," she said. "You need to stay hydrated."

Adrien reluctantly took the glass, his hands trembling slightly. It felt strange, but it was comforting in a way. Nathalie had always been there for him—sometimes, though, he forgot just how much.

Nathalie helped him settle back into bed, adjusting the blankets around him. Her eyes were filled with a mix of tenderness and concern as she looked at him. "I’m going to make you some soup. You need to eat something," she said softly.

Adrien nodded weakly, his eyelids heavy. He tried to speak but found that his words were too jumbled. Instead, he just closed his eyes, allowing the warmth of the blankets and the comfort of his mother’s presence to lull him into a light sleep.

When Nathalie returned a while later, she had a bowl of hot soup, a cup of tea, and a few painkillers for him to take. She sat beside him on the bed, propping him up with a pillow as she spoon-fed him the soup. She knew he hated feeling helpless, but she couldn’t help it—she wanted to make sure he felt cared for.

"Thank you, Mom," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Nathalie smiled gently, brushing a lock of his hair out of his face. "You don’t have to worry about that," she replied, her voice quiet but firm. "I’m always going to take care of you, no matter what."

As the day went on, Nathalie continued to coddle Adrien, checking on him every hour, making sure he was comfortable and that he drank enough water. She stayed by his side, watching over him as he drifted in and out of sleep. There was no other place she’d rather be.

She made sure the house was quiet, giving him the rest he needed. She even stayed up late to keep an eye on him, a soft, protective figure in the dimly lit room.

And though Adrien never voiced it, he felt deeply touched by her care. It was in these small, quiet moments that he truly understood the depth of her love—something he’d always known, but never quite fully appreciated until now.

That night, as he drifted into a deeper sleep, he felt a sense of calm knowing that Nathalie was there. He wasn’t alone, and as long as she was by his side, he knew he’d be okay.

Chapter Text

Nathalie had known something was wrong with Emilie for a while. The slow, subtle changes in her behavior—how she seemed more fatigued than usual, how she would sometimes pause mid-sentence, as if a wave of dizziness had hit her. The coughing fits had started shortly after, so persistent that even Adrien had begun to ask if his mother was feeling okay. Emilie always brushed it off with a smile, assuring him that she was just tired, that everything was fine. But Nathalie saw through it. She knew it was the peacock miraculous effects worsening.

And now, it had become harder to ignore.

One afternoon, as the soft afternoon light filtered through the curtains, Nathalie was sitting on the floor of the living room, playing with Adrien. He had insisted they play “knights and princesses” again, a game he had adored for months, ever since Emilie had introduced him to it. Adrien loved pretending to be a brave knight who protected his princess, and today, Nathalie was taking on the role of the princess.

Adrien had found his toy sword, a plastic one, of course, and was waving it dramatically in the air. His face was serious, a little frown creasing his forehead as he practiced swinging it.

“You must protect me, brave knight!” Nathalie declared, her voice filled with playful grandeur as she wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders, pretending to be the princess.

“Yes, my princess!” Adrien shouted, striking an imaginary enemy with his sword. “No one will harm you while I’m around!”

Nathalie laughed, watching the way he threw himself into the game. His little face, so full of determination, reminded her of the promise she had made years ago when she first cradled him in her arms. She would protect him, no matter what.

Just then, Emilie entered the room. She had been in bed most of the morning, but had insisted she was well enough to join them for a little while. Nathalie’s heart tightened at the sight of her, Emilie’s usually vibrant face was pale, her expression slightly strained. Emilie tried to smile at them, but it looked forced.

“Hello, my brave knight,” Emilie greeted Adrien weakly, though she coughed once before continuing.

“Momma, play with us!” Adrien shouted, his excitement clearly outweighing his concern. “You and Nathy can be the princesses, and I’ll protect you from the dragons!”

Emilie chuckled softly, but the sound was hoarse. She shook her head. “Maybe in a minute, sweetheart. I’m just a little tired.”

Nathalie could see Emilie’s hand tremble slightly as she gripped the doorway for support.

Emilie took a few slow steps toward the couch, but as she did, she suddenly stopped. Her breath hitched, and she swayed slightly, the dizziness evident in her expression. Nathalie's pulse quickened as she shot to her feet, rushing to Emilie’s side.

“Emilie,” she said softly, her voice filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Emilie gave her a strained smile, though it did little to ease Nathalie’s worry. “Just a little dizzy, that’s all,” Emilie replied, though her voice trembled as she spoke.

“You’ve been getting these spells for a while now,” Nathalie said, her tone gentle but firm. “Maybe it’s time Gabriel and I try finding a cure again.”

Emilie shook her head, though she looked down at the floor, as if the effort to avoid Nathalie’s gaze took more energy than she could muster. “I don’t want to worry Adrien. Plus he seems to enjoy having you around and his father too, sort of.”

Nathalie’s heart clenched. But before she could respond, Emilie’s cough came again, sharp and persistent, causing her to double over slightly as she struggled to catch her breath. Nathalie quickly moved to support her, her hands steady despite the panic beginning to swell inside her.

“Emilie,” Nathalie whispered, her voice trembling now. “You can’t keep ignoring this.”

Emilie tried to wave her off, her voice growing weaker. “I’m fine, Nathalie. I promise.”

But Nathalie could feel the unspoken weight of the words between them. Emilie wasn’t fine. She hadn’t been for a while. And Adrien, sweet, innocent was too young to understand the gravity of it all.

Nathalie gently guided Emilie to the couch, urging her to lie down. She then looked at Adrien, who had paused mid-swing, his small face filled with concern. His knightly demeanor faltered as he saw his mother, and a small, confused frown appeared on his face.

“Nathy, is mom okay?” Adrien asked, his voice quiet now, unlike his usual energetic self.

Nathalie knelt down in front of him, her heart aching. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Your mom is just a little tired right now, Adrien. She needs some rest. But she’ll be okay.”

Adrien nodded, though his expression remained unsure, his young heart sensing something was wrong. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he knew his mother wasn’t her usual self.

“Nathy, I want to play with you,” Adrien said, his eyes bright with hope. “Please, we can fight dragons, right?”

Nathalie smiled softly, her heart aching for him. She wished she could tell him that everything would be fine, that his mom would get better. But the truth was, she knew what was coming.

“I promise we’ll play later, Adrien,” Nathalie said, taking a deep breath, trying to keep her composure for his sake. “Right now, you can play by yourself, okay? I need to make sure mom is feeling better first.”

Adrien hesitated for a moment, his small face scrunching up in concern, but then he nodded, turning back to his drawing. Nathalie could see him trying to remain strong, but the sadness in his eyes was undeniable.

Nathalie turned her attention back to Emilie, who had her eyes closed now, trying to rest, though the weariness in her features only deepened Nathalie’s worry. She sat beside her, resting a hand on Emilie’s arm.

“You’re not alone in this, Emilie,” Nathalie whispered, her voice filled with quiet resolve. “I’m here.”

Emilie’s tired eyes opened and met Nathalie’s gaze, and for a moment, there was a brief flicker of gratitude. “I know,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

But deep down, Nathalie knew this was just the beginning. There would be no more pretending that everything was fine. Emilie was growing weaker, and time was slipping through their fingers. But she wouldn’t let that take away Adrien’s innocence, his sense of hope. Not yet. Not as long as she could help it.

For now, she’d continue to protect them both. Just as she had promised.

Chapter Text

The weeks had taken a toll on Nathalie. Work pressures were mounting, the new contracts were piling up, and, to top it all off, she was struggling with balancing everything—especially her role as a mother. The weight of it all had been wearing her down, and she found herself retreating more and more. Every evening after dinner, she’d disappear into her room, leaving the dishes half-done, the TV off, and the house unusually silent. She wasn’t angry or upset, just... distant.

Adrien noticed right away. He had been keeping an eye on her all week, worried about the way she seemed to shrink into herself. She didn’t snap at him like his father had done before, but she had become quiet, withdrawn, and less present. Normally, Nathalie was the one who made sure their evenings were full of conversation, laughter, and stories about their day. Now, it felt like she was hiding away from it all.

One evening, as Nathalie sat at the kitchen table, lost in thought, Adrien couldn’t stand the silence anymore. He knew Nathalie, and he knew when something wasn’t right. He walked over, gently pulling the chair beside her and sitting down.

"Mom, are you okay?" Adrien asked, his voice soft but filled with concern. "You’ve been in your room a lot lately. Are you sure everything’s alright?"

Nathalie’s head snapped up, startled by his voice. She blinked a few times, as though she hadn’t been fully aware of the space around her. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, feeling the weight of the exhaustion in her bones. There was a long pause before Nathalie answered, her voice muffled, almost apologetic. “I’m fine, Adrien. Just... tired.”

"I’m sorry, Adrien," she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "I know I’ve been distant. I didn’t mean to shut you out," she suddenly said.

Adrien frowned, unsure of what to say. "You don’t have to apologize."

Nathalie gave him a small, sad smile. "I do," she whispered. "I’m not used to having someone rely on me the way you do." She paused, glancing down at her hands. "I’ve always handled everything on my own. But things are different now, and I’m still learning how to handle it." She continued, her voice shaky now.

Adrien nodded slowly, taking in her words. "You don’t have to apologize for being tired, Mom. I just want you to be okay."

She looked up at him then, her eyes soft with regret. "I’ll do better, I promise," she said quietly. "It’s just... hard for me to adjust sometimes."

"I get it," Adrien said, offering her a gentle smile. "It’s okay. I know you’re doing your best."

Nathalie exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly in relief. "Thank you for understanding," she whispered, her eyes filled with gratitude. "I’ll try harder to stay present. To let you in when I’m struggling instead of retreating."

Nathalie’s eyes softened, the corners of her lips curving into a small smile. She opened her arms then, and without hesitation, Adrien stepped into her embrace. It was quiet at first, just the sound of their breathing and the warmth of the hug between them.

“I love you, Mom,” Adrien said, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Nathalie tightened her arms around him, letting the familiar comfort of his words seep into her. “I love you too, Adrien,” she whispered back, her throat tight. “I’m so proud of you. Thank you… for being patient with me.”

Adrien pulled back slightly, looking up at her with a small, knowing smile. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mom,” he said. “You’re enough, just the way you are.”

With one last squeeze, Nathalie held him a little tighter, feeling the comfort and strength in his embrace. She would do better, she would adjust, and she would be okay. With him by her side, she had everything she needed.

Chapter Text

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon, and Nathalie was not feeling it. Her energy was low, her mood was up and down, and she was starving. She'd been searching through the kitchen, pulling open cabinets and then slamming them shut when they failed to yield anything satisfying. She let out a long sigh.

Adrien, who was sprawled on the couch texting Marinette, heard the noise and glanced up. He could tell she was in one of her "moods," and this time, it didn’t seem like it was just from a bad day.

“You okay, Mom?” he asked, pausing the game.

“I’m fine,” Nathalie said, but it didn’t sound convincing. She opened the fridge again, glancing in for maybe the tenth time, before pulling out a half-empty carton of orange juice and then immediately regretting it.

“I’m just... hungry. Like, really hungry,” she muttered, feeling her patience snap a little.

Adrien sat up, sensing the chaos in the air. “So what do you want to eat?”

“I want something that’s easy. Something that’ll just, I don’t know, appear without me having to cook or needing to wait for the chef,” she grumbled. She was hungry, in that way where nothing seemed to hit the spot, and nothing in the house was quite right.

Adrien perked up, suddenly remembering something. “Oh! We’ve got those dinosaur nuggets in the freezer,” he said with a hopeful grin. “You know, the ones I got last time when I went shopping with my friends.”

Nathalie looked at him skeptically, already feeling the frustration bubbling. “Dinosaur nuggets? Really? I haven’t eaten those frozen meals in ages Adrien.”

“But my friends said they’re amazing! You’ll love them,” Adrien insisted, already heading toward the freezer. “You don’t even have to do anything. We just toss them in the air fryer, and boom! Done.”

Nathalie crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t know about this. Dinosaur nuggets?” she raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound even remotely like something I’d want to eat.”

“Trust me!” Adrien said, pulling out the bag, all excited. “They’re crispy and perfect, and they’re dinosaur-shaped. What’s not to love?”

She gave him a glare. “I don’t trust food shaped like animals,” she said, still skeptical. “Especially if it’s just a nugget pretending to be a dinosaur.”

But Adrien was already tossing the nuggets into the air fryer, his eyes gleaming with confidence. “It’ll be great, you’ll see!”

Nathalie huffed, her stomach still growling. "Fine," she said, but she wasn’t happy about it. “But if these are gross, I’m grounding you forever.”

Adrien playfully rolled his eyes. “Deal.”

As the air fryer hummed to life, Nathalie tapped her foot impatiently. “How long is this going to take? I’m starving here.”

“Mom, it’s only a few minutes,” Adrien said, his voice full of that overconfident teen excitement. “Relax. You’ll be eating soon. You just have to be patient.”

“I’m not patient when I’m this hungry,” she snapped, but there was a softness in her voice, a little humor that crept through despite her crankiness.

The air fryer beeped, and Adrien dramatically opened it, revealing the golden, crispy nuggets. They looked... fine. Nathalie raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything just yet. Adrien put them on a plate and handed it to her with a flourish.

“Behold, the dinosaur nuggets,” Adrien said, holding them up like a gourmet dish.

Nathalie took one and examined it closely, still skeptical. “This looks suspiciously like a regular nugget... except it’s shaped like a dinosaur.”

Adrien grinned. “That’s the magic, Mom. It’s the shapes. Makes it taste better.”

She stared at him for a moment, then took a tentative bite, rolling her eyes as if preparing herself for disappointment.

To her surprise, she chewed, then paused. “Wait a minute... these are actually... not bad?”

“I told you!” Adrien said triumphantly, sitting back down on the couch. “They’re perfect, right?”

Nathalie hesitated, taking another nugget, this time with more enthusiasm. “Okay, okay, I admit it. These are... pretty good. Definitely better than I thought they’d be.”

“I know, right?” Adrien said, smirking. “I’m a genius.”

Nathalie chuckled, letting go of some of the day’s stress as she finished her last nugget. Maybe the dinosaur nuggets weren’t such a terrible idea after all.

Chapter Text

Nathalie lay in her bed, the dim light from the window casting soft shadows across the room. The sheets felt heavy, as if they were holding her down, and every breath felt like a struggle, shallow and slow. Her heart monitor beeped steadily beside her, a constant reminder of how fragile she had become. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt truly strong, and each day seemed to bring a new wave of weakness. But even in her frail state, she knew that she needed to be strong for him. For Adrien.

He was sitting by the side of her bed, his small hands fidgeting, his gaze fixed on her face. At just fifteen, Adrien had already been through more than most kids his age, and his worried eyes spoke volumes. He was scared, afraid of losing someone else, someone who had always been there for him—like a second mother.

"Are you… are you going to be okay, Nathalie?" Adrien asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a tremor in it, an edge of fear that he couldn’t quite hide.

Nathalie’s heart clenched at the sound of his voice, so small, so full of uncertainty. She reached out weakly, lifting her hand as best as she could, and gently cupped his cheek with her palm. Even the simple gesture felt like an effort, but it was worth it when she saw the faintest trace of relief in his eyes.

"I'm going to be just fine, Adrien," she said, her voice soft but steady. She smiled at him, her lips curving slightly. "You don’t need to worry about me."

But Adrien didn’t look convinced. He bit his lip, looking down at his hands, then back at her, a question hanging in the air that he seemed to be struggling to ask.

""Will you end up like my mother?" he asked, the words heavy between them, a question that always seemed to linger in the air, unspoken until it was too much to ignore.

Nathalie closed her eyes for a moment, the pain of his words washing over her. She had promised herself and Emilie that she would protect him from this. She had told herself she wouldn’t lie to him, but at that moment, she realized that the truth was a kind of burden she couldn’t place on his shoulders—not yet, at least.

She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm, to not let the fear show on her face. She knew Adrien needed hope, needed something to hold on to. And so, as she had every time before, she lied to him.

“No, Adrien," she whispered, her voice gentle and warm. She carefully adjusted herself in the bed, trying to find enough strength to sit up a little more, so she could face him properly. Her hand reached out to brush his hair back, like she had done so many times before, when he was just a little boy. "I’m not going anywhere. Not like that." She smiled at him, though the effort felt like it took everything she had left. "I’m just tired. But I’ll get better. I promise. You don’t need to worry."

Adrien didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at her, searching her face, as if trying to find some sign of truth in her words. Nathalie could see the doubt in his eyes—the way he wanted to believe her, but the fear and uncertainty he carried with him made it hard.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice small, almost childlike. He wasn’t sure how to ask her to promise without asking for more than she could give.

Nathalie’s chest tightened at the question, but she nodded, her hand still resting gently in his. "I’m sure, Adrien. You’re so strong, and I’m strong too. You’re going to be okay. And I’m going to be okay too. I’m just a little tired right now, but I’ll get better. I’ll be up and around in no time."

Adrien didn’t say anything at first. He stared at her, the doubt lingering in his gaze. He wanted to believe her, but there was a part of him that knew. He had seen too much loss in his life to ignore the signs, but the desperation to hold on to hope was stronger than the fear of the truth. He didn’t say anything else, but she could feel his trust in her, that fragile belief that maybe, just maybe, she could keep her promise.

Adrien hesitated, his face a mix of fear and longing, before he finally nodded, though his expression was still clouded with uncertainty.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice small. But for a moment, the tension seemed to ease, and he leaned forward, resting his head on her arm as he curled up beside her, as if seeking the comfort she had always provided.

She whispered one last time, "You’re going to be okay. And so am I. We’ll get through this together."

She couldn’t promise him forever. But for now, this moment of peace, of reassurance, would have to be enough.

Chapter Text

Adrien stared at the cold, perfectly symmetrical walls of his bedroom. The room was sleek and well-designed, there was no denying that. But for some reason, it always felt more like a showroom than a place where he could unwind. He had always wanted something more, something cozy, something that felt like home. Then, Adrien had an idea.

"Hey, Mom!" he called from down the hallway, his voice full of enthusiasm as he walked to her room.

Nathalie, who had been going over some paperwork in her room, raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Adrien?"

Adrien peeked around the corner, a hopeful expression on his face. "Can we, like, redo my room? You know, make it more cozy like yours. I want it to feel more... like a real home."

Nathalie blinked, surprised. "Your room? But it’s so... clean and well-organized."

Adrien’s eyes lit up. "Yeah, but it's just... too perfect! I want something more... comfortable. Like yours! Yours is cozy, and I like how it feels. Can we do that? Please?"

She raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know what it was about Adrien’s persistent excitement, but it was contagious. "Alright, alright. If you’re sure that’s what you want, we can give it a shot."

Adrien grinned. "Yes! Let’s do it together! It'll be fun!"

Nathalie couldn’t help but chuckle. "Okay, then. Let’s head to the store and pick some colors."

A few hours later, Nathalie and Adrien found themselves in a local paint store, standing in front of an overwhelming selection of colors. Adrien, as expected, didn’t hesitate. "This one! And this one! Oh, and maybe this one too!"

He was picking out paint colors, some of which made Nathalie raise an eyebrow. They ended up with an orangish-brown, yellow, a random blue, and a few smaller cans of other colors that Adrien just couldn’t resist.

"This is going to be awesome!" Adrien said, practically bouncing with excitement as they loaded the cans into their cart.

Back at the house, they moved Adrien’s furniture to the side and got to work. Gorilla, the bodyguard who had become something of a gentle giant to Adrien, came in to help, holding a paint roller with impressive skill. Adrien handed him a small brush, directing him with his usual enthusiasm.

Nathalie watched them for a moment, then grabbed her own roller, smiling at the absurdity of it all. The three of them working together in Adrien’s room, painting in every direction without a clear plan, was far from what she expected when she had agreed to this.

"This looks great!" Adrien exclaimed as he splattered some of the orangish-brown paint on the wall. A little too much paint splashed onto the floor, but he didn’t seem to care.

Gorilla, working silently in the background, kept his focus on the bigger areas, but his large hands weren’t exactly made for precision. It was a chaotic process—paint was dripping everywhere, and colors were starting to blend in ways that weren’t quite as “artistic” as Adrien had hoped.

"Maybe we should, uh, be a little more careful?" Nathalie suggested, trying to keep a straight face as she watched Gorilla’s giant hands cause a bit of an accidental mess on the wall.

But Adrien, not phased at all, only nodded enthusiastically. "No worries! This is going to be amazing!"

A few hours later, the paint was dry, and the room looked... well, it looked like a very messy work of art. The colors were on top of each other. Some areas had streaks, and others were uneven, with splashes of color everywhere. The floor wasn’t much better—there were paint splatters everywhere.

Nathalie stepped back, surveying the chaos. "Well, it’s certainly... different," she said with a wry smile.

Adrien didn’t seem to notice. He was standing in the middle of the room, grinning from ear to ear. "I love it! It’s perfect!"

Nathalie blinked, surprised. "You love it? But… it’s not exactly—"

"I don’t care!" Adrien cut her off, bouncing on his heels. "It’s exactly what I wanted! It’s messy, it’s fun, and it’s cozy. Just like I imagined!"

Nathalie shook her head, laughing softly. "You really don’t want to fix it up a little, maybe call in a professional to redo it?"

"Nope!" Adrien grinned. "This is perfect! I like it just like this!"

Nathalie let out a sigh of relief. “Well, I guess if you’re happy with it, then that’s what matters.”

As she looked around at the room, a room that was bright, messy, and chaotic in the most Adrien way—she found herself smiling. Maybe it wasn’t perfect. Maybe it wasn’t even close. But it was his. And that, she thought, was all that mattered.

Gorilla gave a thumbs-up as he surveyed the room, and Adrien nodded at him proudly. "See, Gorilla? It’s just like we imagined."

And with that, the three of them stepped back, admiring their handiwork. It might not have been the masterpiece Nathalie had envisioned, but Adrien loved it.

Chapter Text

Adrien was no longer in his room, but somewhere else an empty, lifeless room. The walls were bare, the floor cold, and the air heavy with a sense of abandonment. It was a place that felt wrong, like it had been forgotten, left to decay in silence.

And there she was, Nathalie. She was standing in the center of the room, but she looked different. Adrien reached out to her, his voice cracking as he called her.

“Mom…?” His voice trembled in the stillness, but she didn’t respond. She was too focused on something, something in her chest.

Suddenly, she staggered, coughing violently. Adrien’s heart jumped into his throat. The sound was harsh, desperate, as if the very act of breathing was becoming a struggle for her. He rushed toward her, trying to help, to ease whatever pain she was experiencing, but as he reached her side, the coughing worsened, her face twisting in agony.

“Mom! Please, stop! You’ll be ok!” Adrien pleaded, but his words seemed to dissolve into the cold air. He could do nothing, helpless as she gasped for breath, her hands clutching her chest. Her body trembled, her face pale and drawn as she continued to choke on the very air.

Then, with a final, strained gasp, her body went limp. Adrien’s heart stopped in his chest. He reached out in horror, grasping for her, but it was too late. His fingers closed around empty air as Nathalie crumpled to the ground, her eyes staring blankly ahead, her body still.

"Mom!" Adrien cried, his voice raw with panic. He dropped to his knees beside her, shaking her, but there was no response. He could feel her coldness spreading. He could barely breathe, the weight of loss pressing down on him with a suffocating force.

He was alone again. Alone with the terrible emptiness that had once been his life.

Adrien blinked in disbelief, as he saw a light wrapped around Nathalie, her body lifting slowly from the ground, her chest rising and falling once more, the faintest hint of warmth returning to her skin.

And then, with a quiet gasp, she was gone. The light vanished, and the room was silent again, just as it had been before. Nathalie, was no longer there. Adrien’s heart dropped as he reached for the empty space where she had once been, but all he touched was the cold floor.

In that moment, the world seemed to close in on him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He was alone. Again.

With a sharp gasp, Adrien awoke, his body jerking upright in his bed. His pulse raced, his hands trembling as he clutched the sheets. His room was dark, safe, just as it should be. But the echo of the nightmare still lingered, the sensation of that horrible emptiness gnawing at him.

It had felt so real. It had been real. He could still see her face, pale and lifeless, her body cold in his arms. The room, empty and silent, had been the last thing he remembered before—

Then something in him, felt the need to confirm that she was still here, that she was safe. He couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, the dream wasn’t over. Not yet.

He needed to see her. He needed to know she was okay.

Without thinking, Adrien climbed out of bed, his bare feet meeting the cold floor as he hurried across the room, his heart still hammering in his chest. The weight of his nightmare clung to him, the fear too fresh to ignore. He couldn’t let it go.

---

Across the hall, Nathalie was experiencing a nightmare of her own.

In the dream, she was lying in her own bed, just as she had been. But her body felt heavy, too heavy to move, as if invisible chains had wrapped themselves around her limbs. She tried to call out to Adrien, but her voice was no more than a whisper, barely making it past her lips.

She felt a sharp, stinging pain in her chest. It started out slow, like a tightening, and then became worse—her lungs tightening, the air leaving her with each breath. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, and she gasped, struggling to inhale. Her hands clutched at the sheets, as if holding onto something, anything, could keep her from slipping away.

"Adrien…" she gasped, her voice barely audible, but the words felt heavy and distant.

But Adrien didn’t come. No matter how much she called out for him, there was no response. Only the sound of her own labored breathing, echoing in the emptiness of the room. Her body trembled as the pain intensified, each cough rattling her chest until it was impossible to catch her breath.

The darkness around her deepened, pressing in from all sides. Her vision blurred, and just as her body began to go cold, her gaze drifted to the door. She could just make out Adrien’s face—his features distorted in grief and panic. But he wasn’t reaching for her, wasn’t coming to her side. He was standing, helpless, unable to reach her.

And then, with a final, desperate breath, the darkness closed in around her. She could no longer breathe. She could no longer feel. Her body went limp, and everything went still.

---

Nathalie awoke with a start, her breath ragged as she shot up in bed, her hands clutching her chest. The room was dark and silent, but her heart still raced. The terror, the cold emptiness, was still fresh, her body still frozen with fear.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the memory of the nightmare away. But the image of Adrien, standing outside her door with a tear-streaked face, still lingered in her mind. She could still hear his faint voice, calling to her, but it had been too late. She had left him. Alone.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the blankets, pulling them tightly around her, trying to steady herself. She couldn’t lose him. Not like that. She couldn’t leave him.

Just then, a soft knock at her door shattered the silence. It was tentative, almost hesitant, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure if they should intrude.

“Come in,” she called, her voice a little shaky.

The door creaked open, and there stood Adrien, his eyes wide and filled with worry. His hands were trembling, and his face was pale, lit only by the dim moonlight streaming through the window.

“Mom?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nathalie’s heart twisted at the sight of him, and in an instant, she was out of bed, her arms opening wide, pulling him into her embrace. He buried his face into her chest, his hands clutching her as if he were afraid she might disappear.

“I had a bad dream,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her, his breath ragged. “You… you left me. Just like…my parents.”

Nathalie closed her eyes, holding him tighter, trying to chase away the fear that still haunted her. She could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, mirroring her own. She had to be strong for him.

“I’m right here, Adrien,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone. I’ll never leave you.”

He sniffled, lifting his head to look at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was the truth, the promise in her gaze. Nathalie cupped his face gently, brushing away the tears that had begun to fall down his cheeks.

“I won’t leave you,” she repeated, her voice steady, her words a vow. “You mean everything to me.”

Adrien nodded, his body relaxing just a little as he leaned against her, taking comfort in her warmth, in the knowledge that she was there. Nathalie gently guided him to sit beside her on the bed. The moonlight illuminated their faces as they sat in silence, each of them trying to shake off the lingering terror of their dreams.

After a few moments, Nathalie spoke again, her voice calm but still filled with the remnants of the fear they had both shared.

“Do you want to stay here with me for a while?” she asked softly, brushing her hand through his hair.

Adrien nodded without hesitation, climbing under the covers beside her. Nathalie wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as the world outside continued its quiet, indifferent rhythm.

There, they drifted back into sleep, the weight of their nightmares still lingering but slowly fading, replaced by the comfort of each other’s presence. The night was no longer as frightening when they were together.

Chapter Text

It was a quiet evening at the Agreste mansion, the kind of evening Nathalie cherished—when the house felt peaceful and Adrien was home for dinner. The table was set carefully, a roasted chicken with roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes sitting in the center. The smell of the meal filled the air, and Nathalie smiled as she glanced at the clock, knowing that Adrien would come down any minute now.

As she was finishing up, Adrien walked in. When he saw the food, his eyes brightened, and his stomach gave a soft growl in response.

"Wow, it smells amazing, Mom! You really went all out tonight,” Adrien exclaimed.

Nathalie smiled warmly, grateful for his enthusiasm. "I thought I'd make your favorite. I know you’ve had a long week, and you’ve been busy with schoolwork, so... I figured a good dinner might make things a little better."

Adrien smiled back, a genuine warmth in his gaze. "You're the best, Mom," he said, walking to the table and settling into his usual spot. "I’ve been thinking about dinner all day."

Nathalie chuckled lightly, serving the food onto his plate. "Well, I hope it lives up to the expectation."

As she sat down across from him, just as she was about to take a bite, Adrien froze, his smile faltering just slightly. He looked down with a soft sigh, his face going blank for a moment before he quickly looked back up at her.

“Everything okay?” Nathalie asked, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor.

“Yeah,” Adrien said quickly, his voice a little too quick, a little too tight. He tried to smile but couldn’t quite mask the tension. “It’s just... school stuff. You know how it is.” He reached for his fork, but his hand lingered in mid-air for a moment as if he were struggling with some inner conflict. "Actually... I think I’ve got a lot of homework to catch up on tonight."

Nathalie furrowed her brow, not completely buying the excuse. “Homework? But you’ve hardly touched your food,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, though a touch of concern crept in.

Adrien shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to his plate before looking back up at her. “I know, I just... I’m not super hungry right now. And, uh, I really need to finish some assignments before tomorrow.”

Nathalie paused, studying him for a moment. There was something in the way he was avoiding her gaze that made her uneasy. It wasn’t like him to rush off in the middle of dinner, especially when she had made his favorite meal.

"Adrien," she said softly, her voice holding a note of concern, "you’re sure you’re okay? You’ve barely eaten. Is everything alright?"

Adrien hesitated for a long moment, his gaze flickering down to his plate before looking back at her, his lips tight. His heart was heavy as he considered how to explain, how to tell her the truth without revealing too much. Without revealing the secret he couldn’t share with her.

“I’m fine, Mom," Adrien said, forcing the words out with a small smile. "Really. I just—” His voice faltered for a second. “I don’t feel like eating right now. Maybe later, okay?”

Nathalie didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push him further. Instead, she tried to smile reassuringly, though the worried expression in her eyes didn’t quite fade.

“Alright, Adrien. If you’re sure... But you’ve got to take care of yourself, okay? You need to eat and rest, not just focus on homework.”

Adrien nodded quickly, standing up from the table. “I will. I promise, Mom. I’m just... I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. Thanks for dinner, though. It really does smell amazing.”

He quickly hugged her before walking toward the door to his room, his steps hurried, as if trying to escape the weight of the conversation. He paused just before leaving the kitchen and turned back toward her, his eyes filled with a trace of guilt.

“I’ll be in my room, alright? I’ll grab something to eat later.” His voice was quiet, almost distant.

Nathalie watched him go, a small frown pulling at her lips. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that there was something more going on than he was letting on. She had known him long enough to read the signs—the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, how he seemed to hurry off to his room like he had somewhere more important to be.

Sighing softly, she sat back in her chair, the warmth of the food on her plate now lost to the quiet of the room. She took a slow bite of the chicken, but even as the savory taste lingered on her tongue, the emptiness of the table settled heavily in her chest. She couldn’t imagine enduring this for years, just like he had.

Chapter Text

Nathalie and Adrien strolled through the park on a warm, sunny afternoon, the kind of day that seemed made for slow walks and long conversations. Adrien, a bright smile on his face, couldn’t stop talking about his recent time together with Marinette.

“It was a bit strange at first. She kept disappearing since she was nervous but then we talked and were able to fix it. Everything was really nice after that," he said, his words tumbling out with excitement.

Nathalie smiled softly, her heart swelling with pride. She had always known Adrien was a kind young man, but hearing him speak with such warmth about Marinette made her feel a strange sense of joy. "I’m happy for you, Adrien," she said, her voice gentle. "It sounds like you two really are made for each other. Soon you’ll be running off and getting some pet hamsters or something,"

Adrien rolled his eyes, but he was clearly flustered. "Okay, okay, no hamsters yet. But really, it was just so easy, Mom. Like, everything felt natural after we talked.

Nathalie’s heart skipped a beat, not out of surprise, but out of something else. A pang of longing, subtle but undeniable, pulled at her. They continued walking, passing a couple sitting on a bench, laughing together. Nathalie didn’t know what it was, but something in the way they interacted, the ease and connection between them, felt so foreign to her.

As they walked further, it seemed like every turn held another couple—young lovers holding hands, an older pair sharing a quiet conversation, even a group of friends gathered together, teasing each other with playful smiles. The warmth of the sun, the sounds of birds chirping, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, but for some reason, Nathalie felt colder and more alone with every couple they passed.

Adrien, lost in his thoughts, hadn’t noticed her sudden silence. He was still talking about the date, about how Marinette HATED the snack they ordered. But Nathalie’s gaze was distant, her chest tight. She wanted that kind of connection, that kind of closeness. She wanted to be the one sitting on a park bench, laughing and sharing a moment with someone who truly saw her.

The pressure in her chest grew, and before she could stop herself, a tear slipped down her cheek. It was a soft, almost invisible thing, but in the stillness of the park, it felt like the loudest cry. She quickly swiped it away, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"Mom?" Adrien’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to find him watching her with concern. "Are you okay?"

Nathalie quickly blinked, trying to hide the tear, and gave a small, forced smile. "Oh, it’s just... something got in my eye," she said, her voice a little shaky. She wiped at her eye again, pretending to be alright. "I’m fine, Adrien. Let’s keep walking, ok?"

Adrien hesitated, clearly sensing that something was off, but he didn’t press further. They continued walking, but Nathalie’s mind was elsewhere. She tried to focus on his words, to listen to his excitement about everything, but all she could think about was the feeling of emptiness growing inside her.

She glanced at Adrien, still smiling, his eyes shining with youthful hope. Even if he didn’t notice, she couldn’t ignore how much she wished she could feel that same spark in her own life. But for now Adrien was all she needed to keep going and that was enough.

Chapter Text

It was a hot and sunny Saturday morning, and little Adrien was practically vibrating with excitement. He ran around the living room, his little feet skidding on the floors, shouting, “Beach, Mama! Beach!” as he waved his tiny arms in the air. His big green eyes were wide with anticipation, his face lighting up with a smile that was all too irresistible.

Emilie, sitting at the kitchen counter, stared at her papers, trying to focus on the never-ending scripts in front of her. She glanced at Adrien with a weary sigh. She loved him dearly, but today, like most days, she simply couldn't keep up with his boundless energy.

"Sweetheart," Emilie said, running a hand through her disheveled hair, “I know you want to go to the beach, but Mama’s got so much to do. I can’t today.”

Adrien pouted, his small face crumpling with disappointment. He had been talking about the beach for days now, his excitement growing every time he saw the sun shining brightly outside.

“Beach, Mama!” he repeated, his voice quieter now, but the insistence still there.

Emilie sighed then she glanced over at her best friend, Nathalie, who had just entered the room. Nathalie was one of the most reliable people Emilie knew—caring, dependable, and always ready to lend a hand when it came to Adrien. But... there was one thing Emilie knew, Nathalie absolutely hated the beach.

“Nathalie…” Emilie started, her voice tinged with guilt. “I know this is a big ask, but… Could you take Adrien to the beach today?” She winced, knowing what she was asking. “You know I really need to get some memorizing done, but… I just can’t let him down. He’s been asking all week.”

Nathalie, who had been reaching for her coffee, froze mid-motion, her hand lingering over the cup. “Wait, me? Take him to the beach?”

“Please?” Emilie’s voice softened, her eyes pleading. “I know you’re not a fan of the sand, but I just… I really can’t do it today. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

Nathalie hesitated, her face showing clear discomfort at the thought. She had never liked the beach. The sand got everywhere, clinging to her skin, getting stuck in her shoes, and no matter how many times she tried to wipe it off, it always seemed to follow her around for days. But there was no way she could refuse Emilie, especially not when she could see how badly Adrien wanted this.

“Ugh,” Nathalie sighed dramatically, but a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Fine. I’ll do it. For you, and for him.” She looked down at Adrien, who was looking up at her with such hope in his eyes that it made her heart melt. “But you owe me big time for this. Big. Time.”

Emilie let out a relieved breath, smiling gratefully. “Thank you so much, Nathalie. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

Nathalie nodded, already gathering her thoughts. “Alright, I’ll make a checklist. Sunscreen, of course. Snacks. Water. Towels. A beach umbrella, because I’m not dealing with this sun without some shade. And... extra clothes in case he gets soaked and sandy. ”

Emilie chuckled lightly. “Just make sure you’re not too long. And no beach snacks, okay? He always has a sugar rush after eating something from there.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. I’m making sure this is a well-organized operation,” Nathalie said with a mock-serious tone, pulling out her phone and typing up a list.

Emilie raised an eyebrow. “Wait, hold on. Did you just pull out a checklist for going to the beach?” she teased. “Seriously, Nathalie? You’re making a checklist for a beach trip?”

Nathalie shrugged with an exaggerated sigh, clearly unfazed. “Of course! You can’t just wander into a beach day without a plan.” She flashed a grin at Emilie, knowing exactly how ridiculous she sounded, but somehow it worked for her.

Emilie laughed, shaking her head. “A checklist for the beach. You’re something else, you know that?”

Nathalie shot her a mock-glare. “Hey, don’t knock the checklist. It’s a lifesaver. I’m going to need to check off every item before I even think about stepping onto that sand.”

Adrien, who had been listening closely, jumped up and grabbed Nathalie’s hand. “Beach! Beach! Go now!” he exclaimed, ready to head out.

“Alright, alright,” Nathalie laughed, putting her phone in her pocket and grabbing the oversized beach bag. “We’re going to the beach, but you’re carrying your own sand toys, ok Adrien?”

As Nathalie grabbed her things and headed toward the door, Emilie smiled and called after her, “You better stick to that checklist, or I’ll never hear the end of it!”

---

When they arrived at the beach, Nathalie’s discomfort was impossible to ignore. The heat immediately hit her as they stepped out of the car, and the soft sand underfoot made her grimace. She had carefully packed a beach umbrella, plenty of snacks, and a giant bottle of sunscreen, everything she'd need to survive the day.

Behind them, Adrien’s bodyguard, Gorilla, stood close by, making sure to keep a protective eye on Adrien, but at a good distance.He kept his distance as Nathalie set up their little spot on the beach.

“Alright, Adrien,” Nathalie said, trying to sound upbeat despite the discomfort she felt. “Let’s set up the umbrella first, and then we’ll have some fun.”

Adrien, however, was already darting toward the water, not waiting for her. “Water! Water!” he shouted, his excitement uncontrollable. Nathalie winced as the sand stuck to the soles of her feet. “I really hate this sand,” she muttered under her breath.

She quickly followed Adrien, hoping the water would cool her off, but as she stepped into the sand, she felt it clinging to her legs, her arms, and even getting inside her sandals. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away.

“You okay?” Gorilla’s expression asked. He was standing by the towel, keeping a watchful eye on Adrien as the little boy made his way toward the shallows.

“I’m fine. It’s just the sand... I feel like I’m covered in it already,” she admitted, her voice full of frustration. “Why does it have to be so sticky? It’s like it’s always ”everywhere

Adrien, oblivious to Nathalie’s discomfort, grabbed a handful of water and splashed it onto his own face, laughing. “Water! Splash!”

Nathalie, taking a deep breath, walked toward the water’s edge. She couldn’t help but smile at Adrien’s joy—it was contagious. She crouched down to join him, letting the cool water wash over her feet. Slowly, the irritation of the sand faded. The saltwater was refreshing, and seeing Adrien’s delight made it easier to forget the mess all around her.

“Okay,” she said with a small laugh. “Maybe the beach isn’t so bad. At least when he’s happy, I’m happy, right?”

Gorilla, standing a few feet away, chuckled softly and nodded.

Nathalie shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’ll survive this after all.”

As Adrien continued to splash and giggle in the water, Nathalie found herself relaxing, the discomfort of the sand becoming a distant memory. She watched as he beamed up at her, his face full of pure joy.

Chapter Text

Adrien Agreste sat hunched over his desk, his eyes staring vacantly at the unfinished homework in front of him. The words blurred together on the page, the weight of his thoughts pressing down harder than the pen in his hand. It had been another long, exhausting day. Every day felt the same. There was no escaping the emptiness, the constant ache that gnawed at him ever since everything changed. Since his mother’s accident, and the painful, confusing silence left by his father’s absence.

He thought about his mother, about how he would never hear her voice again. He thought about his father, and the anger that bubbled beneath the surface, the questions that still haunted him. Why had things turned out this way? Why did the people he loved have to leave him like this?

Adrien hated that Gabriel had moved on so easily, so quickly after Emilie’s accident. And Nathalie… how could she? How could she date the man who seemed to have abandoned him in his grief? His father spent more time with her than with his own son. Where had Gabriel been when Adrien needed him most? Why was his dad so distant, so wrapped up in his own world, when his son was falling apart?

A soft knock at the door broke through his thoughts.

"Adrien?" It was Nathalie’s voice, gentle but insistent. "Are you alright?"

He clenched his jaw, his frustration rising again. Nathalie was always so patient, so calm, so steady. But it felt suffocating. She wasn’t his mom. She never would be. She couldn’t replace her—couldn’t replace his mom. And worst of all, she was with his father. She was dating the man who had destroyed everything, who didn’t even seem to care enough to be there for him.

"I’m fine," he muttered, his voice tight, barely containing the emotion threatening to break free. He wanted to say more, to let her know how hurt he was, how lost, but the words tangled in his throat.

Nathalie opened the door a little wider, stepping into his room. Her concerned eyes softened as she took in his hunched posture and the tight set of his shoulders.

"Adrien," she said softly, her tone laced with the care she had always given him. "I know it’s hard, but if you want to talk—"

"I don’t want to talk!" Adrien shot to his feet, the sudden movement causing the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. His heart raced, the anger and pain bubbling to the surface in a way he couldn’t control. "I hate this! I hate everything!" His voice cracked as he took a few steps forward, his hands balling into fists. "I hate this stupid house, I hate this stupid life, and most of all, I hate you!"

The words came out before he could stop them, each one heavier than the last. It felt like a punch to the gut, shocking, but freeing in a way. The anger burned, hot and fierce. Nathalie flinched, the hurt in her eyes too much to bear. For a long moment, neither of them moved. The silence between them was deafening.

Adrien stood there, breathing hard, the words he’d just thrown at her echoing in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. He wanted to take it all back, to shove the words back into his mouth, but it was too late. It was out.

Nathalie didn’t shout. She didn’t cry. She just looked at him—quiet, steady, and somehow, Adrien hated her even more for it. She didn’t need to do anything. She just stood there, waiting for him to break, for him to come to terms with what he had just said.

And that only made it worse. That calm, steady, understanding… it was the same calm she had when she spent time with his father. How could she be with him? How could she stand there, so close to the man who had moved on from his mother, as if it didn’t matter? How could she be so calm when his father had barely looked at him for months, not understanding the pain he was going through? He was never there. He was too busy with his own life, too wrapped up in his own grief, or worse, too focused on whatever secret project he had. And now, Nathalie was with him. Dating him.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice suddenly small, barely above a whisper. But it wasn’t enough. The apology felt hollow. He hated himself for letting the anger get to him, for letting the loneliness make him lash out at the one person still here. Still trying to be there.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to meet her eyes. His chest tightened as he tried to hold it all in. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. But the words seemed empty. He wasn’t sure if Nathalie would even believe him now, or if she could forgive him.

The silence stretched on, and in the quiet, Adrien felt his heart crack just a little more.

Nathalie stepped closer, not pushing him, but simply being there. Her presence was warm, comforting. "Adrien," she said gently, her voice as soft as the touch of her hand when it rested on his shoulder. "You’re hurting. I understand that."

Adrien shook his head, feeling the sting of tears pricking at his eyes. "I don’t know how to stop," he said, his voice cracking. "I’m so... lost, Nathalie. I don’t know what to do with all this anger. I miss her so much. I don’t know who I am without her."

And he didn’t know how to feel about her. How could she still be with his father? Didn’t she see what kind of man Gabriel was? Gabriel had completely shut him out. Hadn’t he noticed? Didn’t he care that his own son was falling apart? Adrien wanted to scream at her, wanted to make her see it, but the words wouldn’t come. They just circled around his mind, getting tangled in the frustration, the loneliness, the overwhelming sense of betrayal.

Nathalie’s hand slid down to his arm, offering him what little support she could. "You don’t have to know everything, Adrien. Not right now. You just have to take it one moment at a time. I’m here for you. I always will be."

For a long moment, Adrien said nothing. He could feel the walls around him start to crumble, the raw, painful truth of it all seeping into his heart. The anger that had been so intense a few moments ago now felt like a distant memory, replaced by a crushing emptiness. His hands trembled at his sides, and his throat constricted with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"I hate feeling like this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean what I said. I… I don’t know how to make it right."

Before he could say anything more, Nathalie reached out and gently pulled him into her arms. The moment she embraced him, something inside Adrien snapped. All the tension, the confusion, and the grief he'd been holding back for so long came rushing forward, and his chest tightened painfully.

He felt himself tremble against her, and before he could stop it, tears started to pour down his face. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, his shoulders shaking with the sobs he could no longer suppress. All the anger, all the pain, all the guilt, everything that had been suffocating him, came pouring out in a way that left him feeling utterly vulnerable.

Nathalie held him tightly, her hand gently stroking the back of his head, her voice soft as she whispered words of comfort. "It’s okay, Adrien. It’s okay to feel this way. You don’t have to be strong all the time."

Adrien cried harder, clinging to her as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. He let go of all the anger, all the frustration, all the confusion he had been carrying alone. And as Nathalie continued to hold him, he finally allowed himself to feel something other than the crushing weight of loss.

"I'm sorry," he whispered between sobs, his voice raw. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean what I said. I hate what I’ve become."

Nathalie pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she simply cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs gently wiping away the tears that still fell.

"You’re not alone in this, Adrien," she said softly. "You never will be."

And in that moment, Adrien finally allowed himself to believe it. As he collapsed back into her embrace, the tears still falling freely, he realized that even though everything had changed, Nathalie was still there. Still holding him. Still loving him, no matter how much he hurt, no matter what he said. And somehow, that made all the difference.

Chapter Text

Adrien woke with a start, gasping for air as the remnants of his nightmare clung to him. His body was drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling in a panicked rhythm. The room around him was still, silent, save for the soft rustle of the sheets and the occasional rumble of thunder from the storm outside. He sat up quickly, trying to shake off the nightmare that had felt too real.

In the darkness of his room, his mind replayed the horrors of the dream.

In it, he had been under his father's control, like a puppet with invisible strings pulling his every move. His father, Gabriel Agreste, stood tall and cold, his eyes dark with something that Adrien had never seen before. Gabriel's voice was icy, commanding, as he used his dark power to force Adrien to watch the terrible scene unfold before him.

Adrien couldn't move, couldn't speak. It was like his body was being controlled by a force far beyond his own will. He could only watch as Gabriel turned his cold gaze to Nathalie, who stood helpless in front of them.

Nathalie was coughing, her breaths shallow and ragged, her face pale as she clutched at her chest. She was trying to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Adrien could hear her weak, desperate gasps for air. But his father? Gabriel didn’t even blink. He stood there, cold and detached, watching her suffer as if she were nothing but a mere obstacle.

“Dad, please—stop!” Adrien wanted to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. He was powerless.

He could see Nathalie's face contort in pain, her hands trembling as she tried to reach out for him, but it was futile. Gabriel’s grip on him, on the very air around them, was unbreakable.

Nathalie finally fell to her knees, the blood from her lips staining her hands as she collapsed onto the cold floor, her body limp. Adrien could do nothing. His heart shattered at the sight, his body frozen with terror. His eyes were wide, his throat tight with unshed tears as he tried to reach her, tried to move, but he was completely under his father's power.

And then, Gabriel’s gaze shifted to him. His eyes were cold, emotionless.

“You’re weak, Adrien,” Gabriel said, his voice devoid of any affection. “She was never meant to be your mother. You were supposed to be controlled. You’re nothing but a tool for my plans, a useless monster.”

Adrien’s heart broke. His father, the man he had trusted, had become someone he could no longer recognize. His own father had turned against him and Nathalie, the woman who had raised him when his mother died. Adrien had failed to protect her.

And then, as the nightmare continued to twist in agony, Gabriel stepped back, leaving Adrien helpless, paralyzed, and alone in the suffocating dark.

The world around him felt hollow, empty. His father, had simply turned his back on him and left.

With a strangled cry, Adrien woke up in his bed, drenched in sweat, his heart still racing in his chest, and the remnants of the terror still swirling in his mind.

He couldn’t breathe, the weight of the nightmare pressing down on him. He had to make sure they were okay. He had to make sure Nathalie was alive. He had to see them, now.

Without thinking, Adrien scrambled out of bed, his legs shaky beneath him. He couldn’t stay in his room alone, haunted by that terrible vision. He needed to be with his parents.

His feet padded softly against the floors as he moved down the hallway toward their room. His heart beat loudly in his chest, the fear still gnawing at him. He stopped in front of their door, his hand hovering over the knob. He couldn’t bear the thought of the nightmare coming true. His mind raced as he gathered the courage to knock.

---

The storm outside and her favorite book had kept Nathalie awake longer than usual, the heavy rain tapping against the windows and the occasional thunder rolling through the night. She nestled into Gabriel’s side, his warmth a comforting presence as she rested her head on his chest. His steady breathing was soothing, and soon she felt her own eyelids drooping, her body relaxed.

She barely noticed when Gabriel’s arm tightened around her in his sleep, pulling her a little closer, until she was curled into him, the comfort of his embrace keeping her grounded.

But then, just as she was about to drift off, she heard the soft knock on the door.

Nathalie’s eyes fluttered open, and her body instinctively tensed at the interruption. She glanced at the clock, two in the morning. Who could be knocking at this hour?

Before she could fully process it, a familiar voice, Adrien’s, came through the door, soft and trembling.

“Nathalie?” he whispered.

Her heart immediately went out to him. She pulled herself out of Gabriel’s embrace, carefully untangling herself as she sat up in bed. A quiet groan escaped her lips as she fumbled for her glasses on the nightstand, her hand slightly shaking with the sudden shift in her sleepiness. But the glasses were always a struggle in the dark, finally, she found them and slid them on, blinking to adjust to the new clarity.

“Adrien?” she called softly, her voice filled with concern as she moved toward the door. She didn’t need to ask more questions. She could already hear the distress in his voice.

When she opened the door, the sight of him standing there in his pajamas, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear, made her heart tighten. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all, his hands trembling as he clasped them in front of him.

“What’s wrong, Adrien?” she asked, her voice tender. She reached for him immediately, opening the door wider.

“I... I had a nightmare,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “It was so real. Dad—he... he hurt you. You were... you were...”

Nathalie’s heart clenched. She didn’t need him to finish. She opened the door wider and pulled him inside, immediately wrapping her arms around him in a protective embrace. “Oh, Adrien... It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re okay.”

Adrien buried his face in her chest, the dampness of his cheeks telling her everything she needed to know. The comfort of her touch seemed to break him. She stroked his hair, brushing it back gently, murmuring soft reassurances.

"It was just a nightmare, sweetheart. It’s not real. It was just a dream,” she whispered, her voice calming.

The warmth of Nathalie's embrace and her gentle words slowly began to ease the terror in Adrien’s chest. But he couldn’t shake the vividness of the dream, the image of his father’s cold eyes and Nathalie’s lifeless form. Adrien's breathing was still shaky, but his body began to relax as he stayed in Nathalie’s arms.

Before he could speak again, the sound of Gabriel stirring in bed broke through the quiet. “Everything’s okay, son,” Gabriel's voice echoed softly from the bed, his tone gentle and reassuring. “You’re safe. We’re safe.”

Adrien looked over to see his father sitting up in bed, his expression full of warmth and concern. Gabriel extended his arms, his eyes soft as they met Adrien’s.

Slowly, Adrien stepped toward him, still clinging to Nathalie’s side, her hand gripping his reassuringly. Gabriel opened his arms wide, pulling Adrien into a gentle embrace.

“Adrien,” Gabriel murmured, his voice quiet but steady. “We’re a family. Nothing will ever tear us apart. You’re safe here, with us.”

Adrien finally let go of his fears and allowed himself to be wrapped in the warmth of his father’s arms. He had come in terrified and broken, but now, in the arms of both his parents, he felt the nightmare slip further away. The terror of the night faded into the love and safety of their embrace.

Nathalie kissed the top of his head, brushing his hair from his forehead with a soft hand. “We love you, Adrien. You’ll never lose us. We’re always here for you.”

And in that moment, as he held onto both Nathalie and Gabriel, Adrien realized that no nightmare, no fear, could tear their family apart. He was home, safe, and loved.

The nightmare was not real.

Chapter Text

The sun was beginning to dip behind the Paris skyline when Adrien stepped through the heavy front doors of the Agreste mansion. The house was unusually quiet. No rhythmic tapping of Nathalie’s heels echoing through the hallway. No towering figure of Gorilla waiting silently by the stairs to greet him.

Adrien frowned. That was strange.

He dropped his bag near the coat rack and called out, “I’m home!”

Nothing.

Well—not nothing.

There was a sound. A tiny laugh, soft and high-pitched, coming from the sitting room. It didn’t sound like anyone who usually lived here.

Adrien crept down the hall, heart starting to race just a little. “Hello?”

He turned the corner and froze.

In the middle of the room, surrounded by scattered crayons, one of his childhood plush bears, and an open pack of apple slices, sat a toddler. She couldn’t have been more than three years old. Straight black hair, neat bangs, although slightly askew, and tiny round glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She wore one of Nathalie’s blouses, now hilariously oversized, practically drowning her small frame.

The little girl looked up at him, blinked twice behind her slipping glasses, then her face lit up.

“Ah-DREE-en!”

Adrien’s jaw dropped as the tiny girl ran straight toward him, arms open. He instinctively bent down and caught her just before she tumbled forward.

He stared down at her in stunned silence. Then it hit him.

“…Mom?”

She beamed up at him. “You came back!”

Adrien blinked. This didn’t make sense.

He’d just helped Ladybug defeat the akuma who caused this mess. Everyone who’d been transformed into toddlers was supposed to have returned to normal the second the akumatized object was destroyed. He saw it happen. Onlookers around the Eiffel Tower morphing back, confused adults shaking off the childish energy.

So why was she still like this?

He looked over her shoulder at the living room chaos, crayons, snack wrappers, juice boxes, and then back at the impossibly tiny version of Nathalie clinging to his neck.

She couldn’t be left behind… right?

From the doorway, a shadow shifted. Gorilla stood there, arms crossed, dark circles under his eyes. He said nothing, as usual, but raised his brows with an expression that screamed, ‘Don’t even ask.’

Adrien tried not to laugh. “Let me guess… she refused a nap?”

Gorilla gave a slow nod, then walked away without a word, possibly to lie down himself.

Back on the couch, Nathalie was attempting to climb the cushions like they were mountains. Adrien followed quickly and caught her before she face-planted into the corner.

“Hey—careful,” he said, placing her on the cushions properly. “You’ve been busy, huh?”

“I had important work,” she said seriously, brushing hair out of her eyes with tiny hands. “I was organizing.”

Adrien glanced at the living room again, crayons, plushies, juice boxes, one sock on a lamp, and nodded slowly. “You’re doing great.”

She gave him a proud look. Then, without warning, she stuck a gold star sticker on his forehead.

“For effort,” she said.

He grinned. “Thanks, boss.”

Still, behind his smile, Adrien’s thoughts swirled. Why hadn’t she changed back? Had something gone wrong? Did the akuma miss her somehow, or had she been transformed just moments before they broke the object?

Adrien nearly choked trying not to laugh at the situation. “You’ve got so much energy for someone who’s technically supposed to be in charge of this place.”

She leaned back dramatically into the cushions, arms sprawled out like she’d just run for hours. “I need snacks.”

Adrien picked her up again and started toward the kitchen. “Okay, snacks it is. Then we figure out how to turn you back. Ladybug’s lucky she didn’t see you like this, you’d melt her heart.”

“Snacks first,” she insisted, poking his cheek. “Then strategy.”

Adrien smiled to himself as she rested her head on his shoulder, already looking sleepy. He now knows has a very small, very bossy, and very adorable problem on his hands.

Chapter Text

Nathalie was sitting on the picnic blanket, her legs stretched out comfortably, one knee bent lazily. Her crisp red shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, and she wore a pair of black shorts. Her ancient texts sat forgotten nearby as she sipped lemonade from a striped cup and watched Adrien dart by in his makeshift cape.

Emilie sat a little closer, adjusting the hem of her pink skirt with a small laugh. A dandelion was tucked behind her ear, a proud gift from Adrien, and a smear of jam lingered on the corner of her smile.

“He’s been running circles for twenty minutes,” she said, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth. “Do you think we’ve officially worn him out?”

Nathalie gave a skeptical look. “Highly unlikely. Sugar doesn’t do any good to him”

Emilie laughed. “Well, he did ask for three spoonfuls of jam. I couldn’t say no.”

“You’re way too soft on him Em.”

“I prefer ‘deeply enchanted,’” Emilie said, tilting her head with a grin.

Nathalie rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “Hopeless.”

Emilie sat up a bit straighter, brushing small crumbs from her lap. “Alright, before he comes back with a lizard or something… I need your opinion. This is one of the scenes for my audition.”

Nathalie leaned back on her hands. “I’m listening.”

Emilie stood, took a breath, and jumped into the monologue, dramatic and expressive, her hands sweeping as she delivered each line with flair. She got closer and closer as she spoke, eyes wide with emotion. Then, near the end, she clutched her chest and let out a soft gasp.

“Oh no! My heart!” she cried, stumbling with a fake swoon and flopping straight onto Nathalie’s lap. “I simply cannot go on!”

Nathalie laughed, brushing back a strand of Emilie’s hair. “Your tragic death scene needs work.”

“You wound me,” Emilie said, resting her head more comfortably against Nathalie’s thigh. “I was in character.”

“You’re always in character,” Nathalie murmured.

Emilie looked up at her with a little smile. “And still, somehow, you put up with me.”

Nathalie didn’t answer. She leaned down and kissed her instead, soft and familiar, the kind of kiss that says of course I do. Emilie kissed her back with a quiet sigh, one hand coming up to touch Nathalie’s cheek.

They pulled apart only when they heard the rapid footsteps of a very energetic four-year-old returning.

“Mama! Nathy!” Adrien shouted, barreling toward them with his hands full of clover and an extremely dirty toy car. “Look! He crashed into a worm!”

“Oh, lovely,” Nathalie said, sitting back upright.

Emilie giggled and opened her arms as Adrien plopped into her lap. “The brave adventurer returns!”

The three of them collapsed onto the picnic blanket, nothing could be better than this moment.

Chapter Text

The door creaked open, and Nathalie stepped into the Agreste estate, her shoulders slumped, her shirt dusty, her hair pulled back with only half its usual precision. Another week away. Another failed lead. Still no cure for Emilie.

Gabriel had already disappeared into his studio the second they got home, same as always, silent and single-minded.

Nathalie was still standing in the entryway, barely moving, when—

“Nathaaawie!!”

Tiny feet thudded across the floor, and Adrien came flying around the corner, curls bouncing with every step.

She dropped to her knees just in time to catch him. He wrapped his arms around her neck, clinging to her like she was the best thing he’d ever seen.

“You came back!”

“I always do,” she whispered, kissing the top of his head.

He pulled back, squinting at her. “You look all droopy.”

“That's because I’m about 80% tired and 20% dirt.”

Adrien gasped dramatically. “You need a massage! I’m so good at those.”

“Oh?” Nathalie raised an eyebrow.

“I do it to Mama’s arm when it felt weird! And she said it helped a tiny bit!”

“Well, then I clearly have no choice.”

He tugged her by the hand to the couch, and Nathalie sat down with a soft sigh. Adrien scrambled up behind her, stuffed cat in one hand, determination in the other.

“Okay, ready?” he asked.

“I put myself in your capable hands,” she said with a tiny smile.

Adrien began patting her shoulders. Gently. Awkwardly. At one point, he made vague "whooshing" noises and did three soft karate chops in a row. Then he pressed the cat against her back like a squishy hot stone.

It wasn’t helping her muscles, but her heart was another story.

“Tell me a cool story,” Adrien said, concentrating. “A really crazy one.”

Nathalie smirked and glanced over her shoulder. “Your father got us stuck in a booby trap.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide. “NO WAY.”

“Yes way. We were exploring these underground ruins, very old, very scary. And your father thought he saw some kind of ancient symbol, so naturally, he had to touch it.”

“Oh no,” Adrien whispered. He knew where this was going.

“And immediately, the floor gave out beneath us. I barely managed to pull us onto a ledge before we fell into a pit full of—”

“Spikes?!” Adrien asked, gasping.

“Worse. Bats. Hundreds of them. And one of them looked like it wanted to steal his glasses.”

Adrien let out a shriek of laughter, collapsing forward so he was leaning against her back. “Papa needs to STOP touching stuff!”

“I’ve been saying that for years.”

“What happened next?!”

“We had to crawl out through a secret tunnel. I hit my head twice. Your father ruined a pair of shoes. It was awful.”

Adrien laughed so hard he snorted. “That’s the best story ever.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Even better than the goose fight?”

He thought very seriously. “Mmm... tie.”

Nathalie chuckled, reaching up to pull him around into her lap. He settled there happily, still giggling, clutching the cat against her chest.

“Thank you for the massage,” she murmured, ruffling his hair.

“You’re welcome,” he yawned. “Next time I’ll bring snacks and more plushies.”

She hugged him a little tighter, eyes slipping shut. No progress, no breakthroughs, no cure, but Adrien was here. And his tiny hands and giant heart were doing more for her than any expedition ever had.

Chapter Text

The silence in Nathalie’s bedroom was thick with frustration as she sat on the edge of her bed, trying once again to attach the straps of her exoskeleton. The pieces of metal and fabric lay scattered around her like an unfinished puzzle, but today, it felt like the pieces just wouldn’t fit.

Her hands were shaking more than usual, the usual precision eluding her. She fumbled with the strap on her left knee, but it kept slipping from her grasp. Her fingers ached, and the more she struggled, the more helpless she felt.

Just as she let out a shaky sigh, quickly wiping her eyes, she heard footsteps in the hallway. A pause. Then Adrien’s voice, uncertain and concerned.

“Nathalie?”

She didn’t answer right away, her eyes fixed on the strap she couldn’t seem to thread.

“Nathalie is everything alright?” Adrien said again, stepping into the room. She finally glanced up, finding him already crouching next to her.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.

Adrien didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he looked at the exoskeleton, tilting his head as if it were a puzzle he could solve.

“Need help?” he asked, his tone gentle, like he’d seen enough to know she wouldn’t ask for it.

She hesitated, fingers still frozen around the strap. “I can manage,” she said, but her voice cracked just a little.

Adrien didn’t wait for her to change her mind. He picked up the strap she’d dropped, holding it out between them.

“Which side does this go on again?” he asked, looking up at her for confirmation.

She blinked at the question, her mind slow to process. “Under the thigh support,” she replied, sighing quietly. “Then it loops around the side. There’s a latch on the inside.”

Adrien nodded and carefully threaded the strap through the correct slot. He worked slowly, making sure each piece fit in place. “Okay, got it. And this one?” He pointed to another part of the exoskeleton.

“That one goes across the top of the knee,” she said, her voice softer now, more resigned. “It’s tricky sometimes, needs to be just tight enough.”

Adrien worked in comfortable silence, each piece clicking into place as he asked her questions to make sure everything was right. It was a quiet rhythm between them, him, carefully adjusting the parts, and her, giving instructions with a quiet precision.

“Okay, this one goes across the shin, right?” Adrien asked, picking up another piece.

“Yeah, under the shin. It helps with support,” she said, her focus beginning to return now that the frustration wasn’t so overwhelming.

Once Adrien had finished attaching the straps, he gently tested the fit, helping her adjust it around her legs.

“That should hold,” he said, stepping back. “How’s it feel?”

Nathalie flexed her knee cautiously. It felt more secure now, the brace snug around her joints. “Better,” she said quietly, her voice a little softer than usual.

Adrien smiled and stepped back, wiping his hands on his pants. “Good. Glad I could help.”

There was a brief moment of quiet, but then Adrien leaned against the doorframe casually. “Oh, by the way, Marinette and I are going out on Saturday. Coffee and a movie.”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. “A date?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said, smiling shyly. “She set it up. Said she wanted to get out and do something fun for once, so we’re grabbing coffee and catching a movie afterward.”

Nathalie couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “Sounds nice.”

“It will be,” Adrien said, his smile growing. “But, uh, there’s just one problem.”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Father,” Adrien said with a sigh. “As always he has me scheduled for piano practice all afternoon. He’s convinced I need to be playing for hours if I want to improve.”

Nathalie blinked, surprised. “And you still want to go?”

“I’m not canceling on Marinette. I promised her,” Adrien said firmly.

Nathalie frowned slightly, picking up on his concern. “So, what do you need?”

Adrien glanced at her, then hesitated before speaking. “Well… I was hoping you could cover for me. Just tell him I’m busy with practice, so I can sneak out and keep the date.” He paused dramatically, then added with a bright smile, “I’ll even bring you a box of macarons on Sunday.”

Nathalie gave him a sidelong look, crossing her arms. “Are you bribing me?”

Adrien’s eyes widened, then he broke into a grin. “Bribe? No way. It’s not a bribe.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He held up his hands, mock-defensive. “Okay, technically it’s an exchange. You cover for me, and in return you get macaroons…”

Nathalie stared at him for a moment, then slowly smiled, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Which ones?”

Adrien didn’t miss a second. “Vanilla rose, chocolate, and... of course, pistachio and they’re not just any macarons,” Adrien said, grinning. “The best ones in Paris. I’ve got taste.”

Nathalie couldn’t hold back a soft laugh, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. “Alright, alright. But only if you don’t forget the pistachio ones.”

Adrien nodded eagerly, his grin widening. “Deal, you’ll be getting the best pistachio macarons in the city.”

“I’ll tell him you’re practicing. But don’t think I’ll forget this favor” she said, her voice now lighter.

“Thanks, Nathalie,” he said, stepping back toward the door. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“But don’t think I’ll always be accepting these ‘exchanges,’” she called after him, a smile still tugging at her lips.

But deep down, she knew that was a lie.

Chapter Text

Nathalie had always considered herself calm, logical, and above all, in control. But lately, she felt like the universe had decided to throw a curveball right into the middle of her sort of organized life. It all started last week when she spotted a small black cat darting around the edges of her vision. At first, she thought it was just fatigue, too many sleepless nights, too much stress, but then it kept happening.

The little thing appeared everywhere, popping out of shadows, sneaking through rooms, always just a flash at the edge of her vision. It had fur so black it absorbed light, and every time, without fail, it would be eating cheese. A small block, always there, and then the cat would eat it with such utter enjoyment that Nathalie couldn’t help but wonder if she’d finally cracked.

The first time it happened, she was walking through the hallway. She saw the flash of black fur in the corner of her eye, and she stopped in her tracks. Spinning around, she expected to see a rat or a shadow or something. But no, it was just an empty hallway and a lingering scent of cheese in the air.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. "I need more sleep," she mumbled. "Or maybe a nap. Or maybe I should actually take my medication like a responsible adult."

The second time was harder to ignore. She was sitting at her desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork, when she spotted the same black cat, perched on the rug and chowing down on another chunk of cheese.

Her heart skipped a beat. Okay. No. That’s real.

“Alright, maybe I’m just not sleeping enough," she whispered to herself, trying to stay calm. "It’s just stress. I need more sleep. I need a vacation... or maybe a therapist.”

"Are you sure you're okay, Nathalie?" Adrien’s voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah! Totally fine," she replied quickly, plastering on a smile that was way too wide. "Just... distracted. Nothing unusual."

Adrien gave her a strange look. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Maybe I have," she muttered under her breath.

The next day, things hit a breaking point. Nathalie was in the living room, reviewing reports, doing her best to ignore the creeping sense of unease. But then, there it was again, the little black cat, sitting smugly in the corner, munching on a fresh block of cheese.

He looked so casual about it. Like this was his house.

Nathalie’s eye twitched. That’s it.

Before the cat could react, she stormed across the room, lunged forward, and scooped him into her hands in one swift motion. "Gotcha!"

The cat let out a startled squeak as he found himself face to face with a very intense Nathalie. "Hey! What’s your problem?!"

"You’re a Kwami," she said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing. "You’re Plagg. What are you doing in this house?!"

Plagg blinked at her, entirely unfazed despite being manhandled like a plush toy. "Could you not squeeze so tight? I just ate."

"You’ve been sneaking around here for a week, eating cheese, popping in and out like some sort of food-obsessed cryptic and you didn’t think to say anything?!"

Plagg shrugged in her grip, his expression bored. "Well, you seemed busy. And honestly, your cheese selection? Top tier. I figured if no one noticed, no one would mind."

Nathalie stared at him. "You're here... for the cheese?"

"Yep," he said brightly and quickly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Recharges me. Also? Tastes amazing."

She released him with an exasperated sigh, rubbing her temples. "I’m losing it. I knew it. I’ve officially snapped."

Plagg floated lazily over to the couch, landing with a dramatic flop and continuing to nibble on his abandoned cheese. "You’re not losing it. You just need to relax a little. You’ve got this whole intense, ‘tight-shoulders’ thing going on."

Nathalie sat down beside him, still rubbing her face like it might bring reality back into alignment. "You’re a magical creature sneaking around this mansion and eating my food like it’s your personal buffet."

"And?" Plagg asked between bites.

"And you just expect me to accept that?"

Plagg glanced at her, tail flicking. "Pretty much, yeah. You know what Kwamis are. It’s not like I’m new to you. I’m just... a surprise guest."

"A surprise guest who’s eaten a bunch of imported Camembert in three days," she muttered.

"You’re welcome for helping you clean out the fridge," he replied smugly.

She stared at him for a long moment, then finally sighed and leaned back against the couch. "This is fine. Totally fine. Just a talking magical entity freeloading in this house like an unwanted roommate."

"Hey," Plagg said, grinning, "Unwanted or not, I’m delightful. And if it helps, you’re helping the kwami of one of the hero’s in Paris ."

Nathalie shook her head, defeated but amused. "If I find you in my wine cellar, we’re going to have a real problem."

Plagg raised his paws. "No promises."

She groaned, lying back and staring at the ceiling. "Why couldn’t it have been a normal cat? One that doesn’t talk. Or float. Or eat like a lactose-fueled gremlin."

"You wound me," Plagg sniffed dramatically. "I’m adorable."

"You’re a menace."

"I can be both."

And for the first time in what felt like weeks, Nathalie actually laughed.

Maybe she was losing her mind.
Or maybe this was just her life now.

Chapter Text

It had been four hours. Four. Long hours.

Adrien was starting to lose his mind.

He had a single goal, find the perfect Mother’s Day gift for Nathalie. He really wanted to show her how much she meant to him, but nothing felt right. Every store they visited had something that seemed close, but not quite it. The perfect gift had to be meaningful, thoughtful, something that would make her smile, and, more than anything, something that would make her feel loved.

But after hours of shopping with Marinette, Adrien was starting to lose hope. They’d gone from one store to the next, rifling through anything from candles to scarves to kitchenware, but none of it felt right. She was practical and already had everything she needed. What could he possibly give her that would show how much he appreciated everything she’d done for him?

“Marinette, I don’t think I can do this,” Adrien muttered, slumping against a shelf in the bookstore they’d ended up in. “I don’t know what she wants, and I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, clearly trying not to laugh at how stressed out over a gift Adrien was. “You’ve been stressing about this for hours, Adrien. Hours. You’ve been to five different stores, almost bought two different types of shoes-”

“Three,” he interrupted, holding up three fingers.

“Three,” Marinette confirmed, “and nothing felt right. You’re making this way harder than it needs to be.”

“I just want it to be perfect,” Adrien sighed, rubbing his eyes. “She means so much to me, and I don’t want to mess this up.”

Marinette softened. “I get it. But I think you’re overthinking it. Let’s take a step back. What’s something that would really make her smile? Something from you, from the heart.”

Adrien paused, the panic slowly starting to fade as he thought about it. Nathalie wasn’t the type to want anything extravagant. She put others before herself without hesitation. If anything, she’d probably appreciate something personal, something meaningful.

Suddenly, a thought clicked in his head. “Chocolate,” Adrien said quietly. “She loves dark chocolate.”

Marinette smiled, pleased he was starting to catch on. “There we go! What else?”

Adrien thought again. “She reads a lot. Maybe a new book?”

“Perfect!” Marinette said, grinning. “And then a card. You can’t go wrong with a handmade card.”

Adrien’s face lit up. “A card! Yeah, I can do that!”

---
Within the next 30 minutes, they had it all. Adrien picked out a beautiful book, a novel he’d heard Nathalie mention wanting to read weeks ago, and a box of rich dark chocolate. Then, they stopped at a nearby craft store, where Adrien carefully selected materials for a homemade card. Marinette helped him pick out the best paper and markers, guiding him on what to write, but he insisted on making it as personal as possible.

Finally, with everything in hand, they made their way back to the mansion. Adrien was nervous, but he felt like the gift finally felt right.

---
When they got home, Adrien saw Nathalie sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in hand. She was reading a book, one that she’d probably read a dozen times over. She looked up when they entered, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Adrien carrying a gift bag and looking a little too serious.

“Oh hey Adrien, what’s this?” she asked, setting her tea down.

Adrien hesitated for a moment before walking over to her. His heart was pounding in his chest. This was it. He didn’t want to mess this up.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mom,” he said, his voice quiet but full of sincerity. He handed her the gift bag, carefully watching her every movement.

Nathalie blinked, clearly not expecting anything. But when she saw the dark chocolate and the book, her eyes softened, and she reached for the card first. Her fingers traced the words Adrien had written, and her gaze stayed on it for a moment longer than usual.

“I... I didn’t think you’d get me anything,” she said quietly, her voice almost in disbelief.

Adrien shrugged, his own voice shaky. “I know you don’t expect anything, but I wanted to give you something. I... I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

Nathalie’s hand trembled slightly as she placed the card down and looked at him. For a moment, there was silence. Then, without saying a word, Nathalie stood up, her eyes brimming with emotion, and pulled him into a tight, unexpected hug.

Adrien froze for a moment, but then he hugged her back, holding her close.

“I don’t deserve this, Adrien,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never knew how much you appreciated me. But this... this means everything to me. Thank you.”
———
The sun was low when the two of them arrived at the cemetery.

Adrien knelt beside his mother’s grave, gently brushing a petal off the headstone. Nathalie stood close by, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“I brought her a flower,” Adrien said quietly. “Nothing big. Just something nice.”

Nathalie said nothing for a moment. Then, gently, “She’d be proud of you.”

Adrien looked up at her. “She’d be proud of you, too.”

Nathalie’s smile was soft and watery. “Sometimes I still wonder if I’m doing this right.”

“You're doing pretty well if you ask me” Adrien said.

The sky was streaked with warm orange and deep blue. They stood there in silence, the wind weaving gently through the trees.

Chapter Text

Adrien sat at his desk, utterly defeated.

His Greek textbook was open in front of him, its pages filled with strange-looking symbols and cryptic grammar rules. His notebook was even worse, crowded with scribbles, half-finished charts, and abandoned vocabulary lists. Somewhere beneath the chaos sat the real heartbreak, a quiz marked in red, a 52% circled at the top, his first ever fail.

Adrien groaned and flopped back in his chair. “I can model winter fashion blindfolded,” he muttered, “but I can’t remember what the dative case is.”

The door opened with a soft click. Nathalie stepped in. She paused mid-step when she saw him surrounded by open books, papers, and what appeared to be a tiny emergency snack pile. Her gaze fell on the quiz. Her expression barely changed, but Adrien had known her long enough to catch the flicker in her eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” she said smoothly.

He slowly lifted the paper and gave her a look.

“...Alright,” she admitted, sighing. “It’s that bad.”

Adrien slumped over the desk again. “I don’t get it. I’ve been trying. I made flashcards, I practiced reading aloud, I even tried to make up songs for the endings. Nothing sticks. It’s like the language is actively trying to stay out of my head.”

Nathalie walked over. “Ancient Greek is challenging. It’s structured very differently from modern languages. But you can definitely learn it, you just need a better approach.”

“You say that like you weren’t out there decoding stone tablets in three languages at once,” he muttered into his arm.

She arched a brow. “Four, actually. Don’t forget I know Sanskrit.”

Adrien raised his head. “Right, Sanskrit, Russian, Latin, Egyptian…”

“Ancient Greek, and a couple more dusty ones,” she finished, calmly pulling over a chair. “Let’s go over some of the basics again. You’re getting stuck because you’re trying to memorize everything at once without understanding how the pieces fit.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. I’m listening.”

She flipped open his textbook and pulled a blank sheet of paper toward her. With a pen, she started drawing out a simple chart.

“Greek is highly inflected,” she said. “That means word endings change depending on their role in the sentence. Subject, object, direction, all determined by endings, not word order”

“So, it’s like a code.”

“Exactly,” she said, pleased. “Let’s start with noun cases. There are five main ones you’ll deal with, nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, and vocative.”

Adrien squinted at the paper. “That sounds… very confusing.”

Nathalie smiled faintly. “In a way. But think of them like jobs. The nominative is the subject. The genitive shows possession, it’s the ‘of’ case. Dative is indirect object, usually the ‘to’ or ‘for’ something. Accusative is the direct object. Vocative is for calling someone.”

“Okay… I kind of remember that,” he said, trying to keep up as she wrote example words.

“Don’t try to memorize it all like a list,” she said, glancing at him. “Visualize what the words are doing in the sentence. Imagine you’re reading a tiny story each time. Who’s acting? Who’s receiving? What’s being done?”

He blinked. “Like building scenes?”

She nodded. “Exactly. Make it visual, you’re good at that. And start with one chart a day. Don’t try to master everything tonight.”

Adrien leaned his head on his hand, watching her draw out a second chart, this one with a simple present tense verb.

“Also,” she added, “stop using ten different colored pens. You’re overwhelming yourself.”

Adrien gave a sheepish grin. “I thought it would help.”

“It’s what’s probably distracting you during class.”

That got a small laugh out of him. “You’re a pretty great teacher, you know.”

“I just know the rules, but thank you” she replied.

For the next half hour, they sat together, going over just a few simple things, noun endings, verb stems, little memory tricks Nathalie had picked up from years in the field. Adrien was still confused, but less lost. The fog had thinned a little.

As she stood up to leave, she glanced back and said, “Try ten minutes a day, one chart at a time. And maybe avoid ancient poetry until next month.”

Adrien smirked. “So, skip the tragedies?”

“Unless you want your grade to become one,” she said, dry as ever.

He laughed. As the door closed behind her, he looked down at the new page she’d helped him start, clear, simple, organized. Not nearly as scary as before.

It looked… doable.

Chapter Text

The mansion was too quiet.

Not the careful quiet of control or order, not the curated silence Gabriel Agreste always demanded, but a deeper kind. A hollow kind. The sound of something missing.

Gabriel was dead.

Adrien sat on the couch with a mug of tea resting in his hands, untouched and cooling by the minute. He hadn’t said a word since they got back. His gaze was fixed somewhere far away, like he hadn’t come back with her from the funeral at all.

Nathalie stood in the doorway, stiff as a statue.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands. Or her voice. Or her presence. She shouldn't have been this bad at this. She’d known Adrien his whole life. She’d heal his wounds when Gabriel was too busy. Stay with him when Emilie was too sick. But all of that had been logistics. Schedules. Structure. Roles she could step into and play without thinking.

This wasn’t that.

This was… human. Raw. And she didn’t know how to be that.

Still, she had to say something, right?

That’s what people did, said comforting things. But her mind was blank, or maybe just unwilling. Every phrase that came to her felt useless or dishonest. She could tell him his father loved him, but, did he? Not in any way that mattered. Not in the way Adrien needed. Not in the way that boy deserved.

"He did his best."
Not even close.
"I’m here for you."
She wasn’t sure that was true, either.

She had watched it happen, year after year. Gabriel loving his work and his grief more than his son. Adrien had been orbit, never center. A name to protect, a face to manage. Not a child to hold.

What could she say?

She took a small step forward, then stopped. Her hand brushed against her blazer as she adjusted a crease that didn’t need adjusting. That same old reflex, appear composed. Controlled. Presentable.

Her father would have expected that.

She thought of him now, not fondly. He’d raised her, not that “raising” was the right word. He had instructed her. Disciplined her. Molded her. Her earliest memories were of quiet halls, strict tutors, and his voice reminding her that emotions were a distraction, a weakness. Crying over a scraped knee had earned her silence. Mourning a lost competition had brought her lectures.

And now here she was. With a grieving boy who had no idea what to do with this weight in his chest, and a woman beside him who had never been taught how to lift it.

“You should drink the tea,” she said.

Her voice was low. Measured. Useless.

Adrien didn’t respond. He didn’t even flinch.

She glanced at the top of the chimney, where a perfectly arranged family photo still stood. Exactly the way he’d wanted to be remembered. Before everything else had happened.

Did Adrien still believe his father loved him?

Did it matter?

Love that doesn’t reach you isn’t love at all. Not the kind that counts.

Nathalie crossed the room and sat beside him. Her knees didn’t touch his. She didn’t lean in. She couldn’t. It felt too close, too vulnerable. She folded her hands in her lap. Still. Controlled.

She stared straight ahead. Her throat felt dry.

He hadn’t cried. Neither had she.

She had no idea what was going on inside him. But she knew what silence could do, how it could take root, harden you from the inside out. Maybe it already had.

She glanced at his hand on the mug. Then, after a long hesitation, she reached out and placed her hand gently on his back. Not comforting, exactly, just there.

He didn’t pull away.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Chapter Text

Emilie and Gabriel’s bedroom looked more like a playroom hit by a tornado.

Feather boas dangled from lamps. A pair of pearl earrings had mysteriously made their way into a teacup. One of Emilie’s gowns had somehow ended up under the bed, and a very small, very determined Adrien was on a mission, to touch everything. Immediately.

“Nooo, not the shoes—!” Emilie yelped as he grabbed a sparkly stiletto and made a break for it, dragging it across the floor like a proud knight hauling a sword.

Before he could escape with his prize, Nathalie stepped in. She scooped Adrien up, turning him upside down just enough to get a squeal of laughter, and then settled him firmly on her lap.

“Captain Adrien, reporting for fashion duty,” she said dryly, brushing glitter off his nose.

“Thank you, dear,” Emilie said with a laugh, walking over to kiss Nathalie’s cheek as she passed. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Adrien, now wiggling but slightly more contained, squinted at his mother thoughtfully as she held up two gowns.

“Okay, little one. Green or gold?” Emilie asked, twirling both with a flourish.

Adrien tilted his head, lips pursed in deep toddler concentration. “The green makes you look like a princess.”

“Ah, excellent logic,” Emilie said, holding it against her. “Green it is.”

She sat at her vanity, slipping into the dress as Adrien watched like a tiny critic. “Lipstick now!” he declared.

With Nathalie’s help, Emilie leaned forward, and Adrien very carefully dabbed the lipstick on her bottom lip… and then up to her cheek. “Oops.”

“Truly magnificent,” she joked, cleaning it up.

But just as Emilie stood and checked her reflection, Adrien’s little face scrunched up. “I don’t want you to go,” he mumbled, hugging Nathalie’s arm.

Emilie knelt down in front of him, smoothing his hair. “I know, mon trésor. But you and Nathalie are going to have the best night ever.”

He sniffled. “We are?”

She nodded, counting off on her fingers. “Blanket fort. Popcorn. That space cartoon you love. And… ice cream.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “And pajamas with the rocket ships?”

“Absolutely.”

He gasped and turned to Nathalie. “We gotta start now! Mama! You gotta go! Right now!”

Emilie burst into laughter. “Now you want me to leave?”

“For blanket fort reasons,” he said seriously, sliding off Nathalie’s lap to begin preparing the floor.

Just then, the door opened.

Gabriel stepped in, perfectly pressed, perfectly stern. “Emilie. The car is waiting. We have to go.”

The moment popped like a bubble. Emilie gave a tiny sigh but smiled as she walked toward him, blowing Adrien one last kiss.

“Have fun, my loves,” she said.

Adrien, now buried under a blanket and trying to pull Nathalie in with him, gave a muffled, “BYE MAMA! I LOVE YOU!”
—————
The grand front doors of the Agreste mansion clicked open quietly, and Emilie stepped in, heels in hand, her glittering gown slightly askew from a long night of polite smiles and endless small talk. Gabriel followed behind her, expression as unreadable as ever, though even he looked tired beneath the sharp collar of his tuxedo.

But the moment Emilie turned the corner into the living room, exhaustion melted into something warmer.

There, in the soft glow of the hallway light, was a fortress of pillows, blankets, and couch cushions, a small kingdom built with love and popcorn. Adrien lay sprawled just outside the fort in footie pajamas covered in tiny stars, a content smile on his face, one sock barely hanging on.

Curled up beside him was Nathalie… in a brown bear onesie. The hood, complete with ears and a golden crown, was slightly crooked on her head. One arm still loosely wrapped around Adrien, as if she'd passed out mid-story time.

Emilie blinked, then grinned, covering her mouth to keep from laughing too loud.

“How in the world…” she whispered, crouching beside them. “He got her to wear a onesie.”

Gabriel gave a soft exhale behind her. “He’s remarkably persuasive when it comes to bedtime negotiations.”

Emilie shook her head fondly, leaned down, and kissed Nathalie gently on the forehead. “Sleep well, my darling,” she whispered. Then she turned to Adrien, brushing a strand of hair from his face before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, mon ange.”

She stood, her gown rustling softly, and gave Gabriel’s hand a gentle tug. “Come on,” she said, quietly, “let’s leave them in peace.”

And together, they disappeared down the hall to their room, leaving behind a crumpled popcorn bowl, a bear onesie, and the soft, sleepy breaths of the best night in ever.

Chapter Text

The rain slid down the tall windows in lazy streaks, muting the world outside to a soft, gray hush. Nathalie’s bedroom was warm filled with the soft lamplight, and the smell of old paper and clean sheets. The walls were lined with book filled shelves, various artifacts, a couple framed photos, and a small couch tucked neatly by the fireplace.

Nathalie sat on her bed in loose pajamas, legs stretched out under a blanket, a book resting lightly in her hands. Her glasses slid slightly down her nose. She hadn’t touched her tea in twenty minutes.

Across the room, Adrien sat curled up on the couch, long legs tucked awkwardly beneath him, math homework open across his lap. His pencil scratched quietly, until it didn’t.

“Nathalie?”

She looked up at once, calm. “Yes, Adrien?”

He didn’t look over. “Can I ask you something… personal?”

Her brow lifted slightly, but her voice stayed soft. “Of course.”

He hesitated, then, without looking away from his workbook, asked, “were you… a thing? With both of them? You and my parents?”

The rain kept falling.

Nathalie didn’t flinch. She closed her book slowly, resting it on her lap, and gave herself a moment to breathe before answering.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “We were.”

Now Adrien looked up, curiosity earnest, open. “Like, all three of you? At the same time?”

She nodded once. “Yes. A while after we first met and when you were very little, we were… together. All three of us. It wasn’t a secret. It just wasn’t something most people would understand.”

Adrien watched her face, but didn’t speak, so she continued, voice steady, gentle, and maternal in its honesty.

“It started as something romantic and balanced. We loved each other, in different ways, but all at once. Your mother… she was the warmth between us. She kept everything open, soft. Gabriel and I could both be intense. But she balanced that.”

She leaned back against the headboard slightly, looking up toward the ceiling, remembering.

“When she got sick… things changed. Gabriel started to pull away, especially from me, but sometimes even from her. He became more guarded. More controlled. I stayed close, but… it wasn’t love anymore. Not like it was. We weren’t really lovers by then. Just two people sharing something broken.”

Adrien’s eyes were still on her. He didn’t interrupt.

“We were… friends, sometimes. But mostly, we were just there. He didn’t want comfort. He didn’t want help. And I didn’t know how to give him anything else. So we kept close, more out of habit than love.”

She looked back at him now, meeting his gaze.

“And then… he got angry. All the time. He hated being powerless. And I reminded him of a time when he wasn’t. So we stopped being anything at all. We tolerated each other, barely, for your mother’s sake. For you.”

Adrien swallowed but didn’t look away.

“After she died,” Nathalie said more quietly, “he made me his assistant. Just that. Nothing more. No warmth. No trust. Just orders.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Adrien murmured.

“It was,” she admitted. “But I stayed. Because you were still here. And I didn’t want you to be alone with… that version of him.”

She let that sit before continuing.

“Over time, we started speaking like people again. Slowly. He would ask my opinion. Sit with me in silence. He began to let me in, just a little. And I… I still cared. I fell back into it.”

Adrien frowned faintly. “Did he love you?”

She exhaled. “He never said it. Not directly. But… sometimes, in how he looked at me… how he said my name…how he held me. I think so. I think he loved me. Or wanted to.”

“Were you together again?”

“Not officially. We never defined it. But it was more than friendship, at times.”

Adrien sat back on the couch, processing. “And then?”

“Then he started making choices,” Nathalie said carefully, “that I couldn’t stand behind. Especially about you. The secrets. The control. The things he was building.”

“You fought?” Adrien asked softly.

“I tried to reason with him. He refused. He said he was protecting you. But what he was doing wasn’t love. It was fear, disguised as control.”

Adrien blinked hard, throat tightening. “Were you still… close after that?”

She shook her head. “No. We were angry. We didn’t speak much near the end.”

Silence fell again, soft and heavy, but not cold.

After a long pause, Adrien got up from the couch and crossed the room, quiet as ever. He sat down beside her on the bed, close but not leaning in, until Nathalie gently touched his shoulder and pulled him in like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He rested his head against her shoulder, eyes blinking fast.

“You were the only one who stayed,” he said quietly.

Nathalie smiled. “And I’ll keep staying. As long as you need me.”

Chapter Text

It was a very lazy, giggly kind of afternoon. Nathalie was curled up on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders, blinking slowly like she forgot what she was doing. Emilie was lying on the rug nearby, softly laughing at absolutely nothing. They weren’t really sure why everything felt so warm and floaty, but it probably had something to do with the gummies they’d snacked on earlier. Definitely not the kind you’re supposed to eat with a toddler around.

Then came the sound of little feet.

Adrien waddled into the living room, holding his favorite bedtime book with both hands. His hair was sticking up in the back, and his dinosaur pajamas had applesauce on one sleeve.

“Nathy,” he said, climbing straight into her lap without warning, “can you read to me pleaseee?”

Nathalie looked down at the book. Then at him. Then back at the book.

“…I can’t,” she said softly, trying to focus. “I… I can’t read a single word right now.”

Adrien blinked up at her. “Why not?”

Nathalie thought for a second, then said, “Because the letters are… moving. And my brain forgot how books work.”

Adrien looked very serious about this. “Oh.”

“But!” she said, brightening suddenly, “What if you drew your own story? You could make a whole book. You’re good at that.”

Adrien’s face lit up. “Yeah! I’m gonna draw a cat and a moon and a pancake!”

“Perfect,” Nathalie said, patting his head.

Adrien hopped off her lap and ran toward his room to grab his coloring supplies. But on the way, he noticed something strange.

Nathalie’s bedroom door was open.

He peeked inside. Everything was tidy and quiet. But one drawer was open just a little, like it was waiting to be explored. So he stepped closer and looked.

First, he found a photo. Nathalie looked younger. She was standing next to a man with a serious face, and she didn’t look very comfortable. Her arms were stiff. Her smile looked tired.

Adrien frowned. “He looks mean,” he whispered. Then, “Maybe that's why she was sad.”

He put the photo down gently.

Next, he found a few of his drawings. They were well kept in a green folder. One was a picture of Nathalie as a superhero. Another one was just a big pink heart with legs.

He smiled.

Then he saw a little stuffed bunny. It was soft and old and kind of squishy, with one floppy ear that hung lower than the other. He held it close for a second.

And then, he saw the container.

Shiny lid. Bright colors inside. Gummies.

Adrien’s eyes got huge.

He grabbed the container and skipped all the way downstairs, shaking it as he went. It rattled like treasure. When he reached the bottom step, he held it up proudly.

“Nathy! Can I have one?”

Nathalie looked up and froze.

Emilie sat up suddenly, her hair a mess. “Wait—what—NO—!”

“Adrien, no, no no no,” Nathalie said, reaching her hands out fast. “Those aren’t for kids.”

“But they look like candy,” he said, already trying to twist the lid.

“They’re not,” Nathalie said quickly. “They’re really spicy. You wouldn’t like them.”

Adrien squinted. “Spicy?”

“Super spicy,” Emilie added. “Like… too spicy even for me.”

Adrien gasped. “Oh no thank you.”

Nathalie gently took the container and set it on top of the fridge, way out of reach. “Good decision. Let me get your real gummies, okay? The yummy dinosaur ones.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, nodding. “I like those dinosaurs better anyway.”

As she walked to the kitchen, Emilie leaned over and whispered, “Hey, Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not tell Daddy about the spicy gummies, okay?”

“Why?”

Emilie paused. “Because… it’s a secret. Grownup stuff.”

Adrien looked suspicious. Then he said, “Okay. I won’t,” happily and innocently.

A few minutes later, he was back on the floor, drawing a giant pancake with wings and a crown. Nathalie handed him a bowl of dino gummies, and he offered her the red one “because it’s the best.”

She smiled and took it.

And they all sat together in the sunlit living room, full of crayon scribbles, gummy bears, or dinosaurs, and a lot of love.

Chapter Text

The afternoon light streamed in through the tall windows of the Agreste mansion, casting long shadows across the spotless floor. Nathalie stood in the middle of the main hall, arms crossed, staring up at the high, pale walls.

It was quiet. Almost too quiet.

She tilted her head. “Hmmm…”

“Uh… you okay?”

Adrien’s voice came from behind her. She turned around, startled out of her thoughts. He was standing on the last step of the staircase, watching her with mild concern and a soft smile.

“Yes,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.” Then, after a beat, “I was just… thinking. The house is a little plain, don’t you think?”

Adrien looked around. “I mean… yeah? It’s kind of… white. Very white.”

“Exactly,” she said, suddenly animated. “Too much white. Too much space. No warmth. No personality. It could use…something.”

“Like what?”

“Plants,” she said, the word like a sudden revelation. “Lots of plants.”

Adrien blinked. “Plants?”

“Yes! Big ones, little ones, maybe some climbing vines in the hallway, hanging plants in the sunroom. Oh and one of those tall indoor trees with the wide leaves! Maybe a row of herbs in the kitchen too, something fragrant like mint or basil—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, cleared her throat, and straightened her posture. “Of course, it would all be very organized. Coordinated. Tasteful.”

He laughed. She tried to look serious, but her mouth twitched.

She crossed over to the table and pulled out a rolled-up paper, carefully smoothing it flat. “I may have… started working on a layout,” she admitted, a little sheepishly. “Green dots are plant spots. See here? A tall fig tree for the front hall, something with trailing vines for the stair rails, and I was thinking about turning this storage room into a dedicated plant room. With a humidifier. And grow lights. And maybe a bench for potting. And a small bench”

Adrien leaned over the map, wide-eyed. “You planned a whole jungle.”

“A small, refined jungle,” she corrected with a straight face. Then, after a beat, “Okay, maybe a medium jungle. But with sections. Proper zones. I even color-coded them, well, loosely.”

He chuckled. “I like it. Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up again. “Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s get plants. Everywhere.”

---

At the garden center the next morning, Nathalie was in full swing.

She wandered the rows, pointing things out faster than Adrien could write them down, or pronounce them.

“This one’s a monstera, look at the leaf holes, it’s called fenestration! And over here, fiddle leaf figs, but they’re picky, so maybe not for the hallway, too drafty. Oh! Snake plants! Nearly impossible to kill. Great for bedrooms.”

Adrien followed her with a big cart that was already half full. He didn’t say much, just watched her with a quiet smile.

She paused in front of a shelf of succulents, hands on her hips. “I mean, obviously, succulents are lower maintenance, but I’ve read they do better in clay pots. Or at least ones that breathe a little. Glazed ones are pretty though.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, of course, functionality comes first,” she added quickly, clearing her throat again. “We’re not just buying random plants. We’re building an indoor ecosystem.”

She tried to look serious, but then immediately got distracted by a blooming calathea. “Ohhh, this one moves. Its leaves shift with the light!”

They ended up with two carts full of plants, a new watering can shaped like a whale, which Adrien insisted was the best value, five mismatched ceramic pots, and a very large fern that almost didn’t fit in the car.

By the time they got home, the once-silent mansion was already feeling a little brighter.

Chapter Text

Gabriel used to make pancakes every morning.

It was one of the few things he did for Adrien, simple, efficient, part of the schedule. He never let anyone else handle it. A couple minutes, perfectly plated, then he was gone. Adrien never questioned it. He probably thought it was a gesture of love.

Maybe it was. In Gabriel’s way.

But now he was gone. And Adrien still came down at the same time every day, stood near the stove like he was waiting for something that didn’t come. He never said anything. Just grabbed cereal or toast and quietly ate alone.

Nathalie couldn’t stand it anymore.

So she set her alarm for 6:30.

“This will be simple,” she told herself as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s just pancakes.”

She found a recipe online, obviously not Gabriel’s, his were too dry anyway. Not that she needed it, she’d seen him do it a hundred times. She tied her hair back, rolled her sleeves up, and laid everything out like a precise operation.

She cracked the eggs cleanly. Mixed the batter. Heated the pan. Easy.

‘See?’ She thought. ‘Not hard. I don’t know how Gabriel messed it up so badly.’

She opened the fridge to grab butter and placed the stick on the counter. Not noticing another one had fallen. Then turned to rinse a measuring cup.

That’s when she stepped backward.

Right onto the butter.

Her heel slipped forward, and she went flying, arms out, tablet sliding off the counter, mixing spoon clattering to the floor.

She caught herself on the edge of the island.

“Merde” she whispered.

She groaned, stood up, checked her blazer, it had a long smear of flour on the sleeve now. Her bun had now come half-undone, strands of hair frizzing at her ears. She looked down at the counter. The batter had started to separate. The pan was too hot. Smoke was curling up from the butter she’d already poured.

“This was supposed to be easy,” she muttered.

She tried to salvage it. Poured more batter in, too much, and it spilled over the edges. She grabbed the spatula and attempted to flip it, it folded in half and stuck.

Of course it did.

That’s when Adrien walked in.

He stopped short in the doorway. “...Everything okay?”

Nathalie straightened, still holding the mangled pancake, hair frizzy, flour down her front.

“I was trying to make pancakes,” she said stiffly.

Adrien blinked. Then, a small laugh, quiet, not mocking, just soft.

“Thanks for trying,” he said, stepping further in. “I can help, if that’s okay. I’ve picked up a few tricks from Marinette.”

She blinked, then nodded, handing over the spatula with only mild reluctance.

They cooked together after that. He showed her how hot the pan should be. She let him add a dash of cinnamon, something Gabriel never used, but Adrien liked. She even let herself smile when he accidentally spilled syrup down the counter and muttered, “Oops, sorry.”

They sat at the counter once it was done. The pancakes were uneven, the kitchen still smelled faintly of smoke, and there was flour on the floor.

Adrien took a bite. “They’re better than his.”

Then he paused.

“But...”

“They don’t feel the same,” Nathalie finished.

He nodded.

She didn’t say what she was thinking, that Gabriel’s pancakes were never about comfort. They were about presence without connection. About doing something just enough to pass for affection.

Adrien had always looked up to his father. Still did, even now.

Maybe it was easier that way.

“Thanks,” Adrien said quietly. “Really.”

She just nodded. “Maybe you can try again tomorrow.” He smiled.

Chapter Text

Adrien burst through the massive doors of the Agreste mansion, a beam of sunshine in his hands. Actually it was a palm-sized, squishy ball of yarn shaped like a hamster with button eyes, a pink stitched nose, and tiny little crocheted paws. His cheeks were practically glowing.

“Nathalie!” he called, practically skipping through the grand hall, “Look what Marinette made me!”

Nathalie looked up from her tablet, adjusting her glasses then her eyes sharpened.“Some more macarons or pastries?” she asked, almost hopeful.

Adrien grinned wider. “Even better.”

He held out the tiny creature in both hands.

“It’s Hammy! She made him for me. He’s our—” Adrien paused dramatically, “—child.”

Nathalie blinked. Once. Twice.

“…Your what?”

“Our child. Mine and Marinette’s,” Adrien said proudly, holding up the crochet hamster so it faced her. “He’s a hamster. Obviously. But he’s also symbolic. Of our love.”

Nathalie stared at the plush of yarn. Hammy’s head wobbled slightly, one button eye stitched on slightly crooked. Adrien had clearly been carrying him around all day like a prized possession.

She gave Adrien a long, flat look, then slowly, very slowly, reached out and took Hammy from his hands.

She tossed it lightly into the air once. Caught it. Tossed it again.

Adrien’s eyes went wide. “Nathalie! Be careful! He’s fragile. He’s literally held together by love and yarn!”

Nathalie caught Hammy again, rolling her eyes, but now cradling him with a little more care. She sighed. “I would never hurt my… grandchild.”

Adrien beamed. “So you do like him.”

Nathalie looked at the crochet hamster again. It had a lopsided smile, one ear slightly higher than the other, and the faintest bit of glitter on its backside.

Ridiculous. Adorable. Stupid.

But also… kind of cute.

And then, it hit her.

She was in her thirties.

She was a grandmother.

To a yarn hamster.

There was a long beat of silence.

“…I need tea,” she muttered, handing Hammy back with slow, careful hands and walking off stiffly, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “I just thought it would be macarons” and “I’m 36 and a grandmother to yarn.”

Adrien cuddled Hammy close with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, buddy. She’ll come around. You’re irresistible.”

Hammy, of course, said nothing.

Later, in Adrien’s room, Plagg floated lazily out of a drawer and glanced at Hammy perched proudly on the pillow.

“Honestly,” Plagg said, popping a bit of cheese into his mouth, “he looked more like a potato when Marinette started.”

Adrien smiled fondly. “He just needed some love.”

Chapter Text

Inside, the Agrete mansion, the smell of tomato and fresh herbs filled the kitchen as Emilie stirred a pot on the stove, glancing now and then toward the front window. Near the window, Adrien was bouncing, knees bent, barely-containing his excitement.

“Mommy? Maman! Is that her car? Was that a car? What if it’s a delivery truck? Do you think Aunt Nathy forgot the way home?” he asked in one breath.

Emilie chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, darling. Nath knows her way back, even without a map.”

“She’s been gone foreeeever,” Adrien said dramatically, pressing his face to the glass. “She missed my whole space phase. And my jellybean experiment. And the time I taught Froggy how to dance.”

“That’s true,” Emilie said with a grin. “I’m sure she’s heartbroken to have missed the Froggy recital.”

“She better be!” Adrien said seriously. “And she better never go on a million-day dig again!”

Emilie laughed, but before she could respond, the familiar crunch of tires on gravel made Adrien gasp. His breath caught in his throat.

“That’s her. That’s her car. IT’S HER!!”

He was out the door before Emilie could grab the spoon.

Nathalie had just stepped out of the car, brushing dust from her pants, when a blur of blond hair tackled her straight into the grass.

“AUNT NATHY!!”

Nathalie hit the lawn, laughing as Adrien clung to her, arms wrapped around her neck like a baby koala.

“You’re here!” he shouted. “You’re finally here! I missed you sooo much! Why’d you have to go so far? Why couldn’t you just dig in the backyard or something?!”

Nathalie sat up, still laughing, brushing sand from her hair. “Trust me, I thought about it. Paris gardens don’t have many ancient tombs, though.”

Adrien pouted. “I would’ve made one for you.”

“That’s very sweet. But I might’ve missed all the hugs.”

“Well, you did!” Adrien said, sniffling dramatically. “You missed thirty-two hugs. Maybe more.”

Emilie came walking down the steps, arms crossed, eyes warm. “Nath. You’re covered in half the desert again.”

“I like to think of it as bringing home a souvenir,” Nathalie said, dusting off her shirt.

“Welcome back,” Emilie said, pulling her into a quick, tight hug. “He really did count the hugs.”

“I believe it.”

Just then, Gabriel stepped outside, raising a brow at her. “Still alive, I see.”

“Disappointed?” Nathalie asked, grinning as he offered her a hand.

“Moderately.”

“Aw, I missed you too,” she said, letting him pull her up.

“I missed her more!” Adrien said, latching onto her leg now. “She’s my favorite explorer. And vase collector. And story teller. And she smells like sand but the good kind!”

“Well, that’s flattering,” Nathalie laughed.

“Oh!” Adrien gasped suddenly. “Did you bring a treasure? It’s okay if you didn’t. You’re the treasure. But also... maybe just a tiny treasure?”

“I do have something,” she said, pulling a small, weather-worn box from her bag.

But Adrien barely looked at it. He just threw his arms around her again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he whispered into her shirt.

Nathalie looked down at him, the little lion figurine still resting in her palm. “Me too, Adrien. More than you know.”

---

That evening, after dinner and stories and more hugs, Nathalie stood in the quiet of the guest room, her bag still half-unpacked, the scent of warm soup still clinging to her sleeves.

She loved the dirt under her nails, the thrill of uncovering the past, the quiet danger that came with stepping into places long forgotten. There was freedom in it, it was just her and the mystery of what lay buried. Every discovery made her heart race, every ancient puzzle pulled her deeper into a world that was hers.

But she also loved Emilie’s laughter in the kitchen. Gabriel’s dry remarks. Adrien’s tiny arms around her neck and the way he said “Aunt Nathy” like it was the best title in the world.

She didn’t want to give up either part of her life.

And how could she ever know that in some other timeline she would?

That one day, she’d live in this house not for hugs and laughter, but to pick up the pieces after it all fell apart. That she’d tuck away her maps and brushes, and trade ruins for responsibility. For Adrien. For a love that was quieter, heavier, and asked more of her than anything else ever had.

But in this moment, she was home.

Chapter Text

The Agreste mansion was quiet as usual, covered in the filtered late-morning sunlight that reflected through high windows and fell in soft golden stripes across the marble floors.

Adrien then found Nathalie in the sitting room, legs neatly crossed, perfect posture, and a thick hardcover book balanced on her knee. The cover was aged and worn, likely collecting dust for years on one of the higher shelves in her library wall.

“You know,” Adrien said as he leaned against the doorframe, “for someone who doesn’t leave the house, you sure travel a lot.”

Nathalie didn’t even glance up, too distracted on reading.

He pushed off the frame and strolled over to her, peeking over the top of the book. “Still reading about tombs, curses, and collapsed kingdoms?”

She nods.“They’re comforting. At least ancient ruins don’t ask questions when someone is trying to concentrate”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You’ve read five books this week. That’s more traveling than the average flight attendant.”

“It’s quiet. I like quiet.”

He reached out and, in one quick move, snatched the book from her hands and closed it.

“Adrien—” she started, sharp and warning.

He grinned and held the book behind his back. “Come on. You’ve got to leave the house sometime. There’s a new exhibit at the museum, ancient civilizations. Tablets, scrolls, artifacts. All that stuff you love.”

“I don’t love it.”

“You corrected the footnotes in this one,” he said, tapping the book’s spine. “With a pen. See, that’s passion.”

She sighed and reached for the book, but he took a step back.

“I’m not going alone,” he said. “You need to get some sun. Air. Interact with people. Maybe walk through a doorway that isn’t electronically secured.”

“I’ve had enough of crowded places and unnecessary socialization for a lifetime,” Nathalie muttered.

“There are quiet museums,” he offered.

“Take Marinette. Or Nino. Or even that girl you run with who—”

“Nope.” He cut her off, smiling. “I want to go with you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And why is that?”

Adrien paused, then grinned again. “Because I know something you don’t want to admit, you’d love it.”

“I assure you, I would not.”

“I know you. You used to be a treasure hunter. Literal jungle-exploring, tomb-decoding, puzzle-solving Nathalie. Somewhere in there, you still get excited over a half-broken vase and four words of Sumerian.”

She frowned. “That was a long time ago.”

He grew quiet for a moment, tilting his head, a light, teasing tone entering his voice again, but the words were sharper than they sounded.

“You know you can’t be like father forever, staying away from the real world, talking to no one, surrounded by old things and regrets.”

Nathalie flinched, barely, just a blink, a breath, but Adrien saw it.

Silence stretched between them. She stared at him, then at the closed book in his hands, and then finally looked away, out the window.

“...Fine,” she said, voice quiet. “Just one afternoon.”

---

The museum was smaller than most but well-curated, and as soon as they stepped into the cool, shadowed main gallery, Adrien felt a shift beside him. Nathalie walked with her arms folded, face unreadable, her posture tense. But her eyes, Adrien noticed, scanned everything.

They walked towards the main exhibit. There were faded maps, crumbling scrolls, ceremonial weapons, and strange tools made of glass and obsidian.

Adrien stopped in front of a plaque. “So this is... uh, Sumerian? Right?”

“Linear B,” Nathalie corrected softly, her eyes on the script etched into the tablet. “It’s an early form of Greek.”

“Oh,” Adrien said, blinking. “Totally what I was about to say.”

She didn’t respond. But as they moved to the next display, Adrien could feel something new, the faintest hum of interest radiating from her. She didn’t say much at first, just made occasional notes when Adrien got something wrong.

He pointed at a wide bronze disk.

“Okay, that’s a compass, I know that one—”

“It’s a ceremonial calendar. Not a compass.”

“...Sure. That was my second guess.”

Then a few minutes later:

“So this statue here, is he a priest or a warrior?”

“Both,” Nathalie replied. “The scars on the arm show ritual combat, but the beads around his neck are symbolic of priesthood in his culture. Dual roles weren’t uncommon.”

“Wait, you know that from a statue?”

“I’ve seen one like it before,” she murmured. “In Peru. Back when the sun tried to kill me every day.”

Adrien smiled to himself. The walls were cracking.

By the time they reached the fourth room, Nathalie had fully taken over. She explained preservation techniques, misattributed labels, the use of early dyes, and why certain regions created gods that mirrored animals while others didn’t.

The intensity in her gaze was no longer the sharp, controlled precision she used when managing the company. Now, it was calmer and freer.

“I forgot this part,” she said under her breath at one point. “The thrill of not knowing what you’ll find.”

“You never really forgot,” Adrien replied gently. “You just buried it under e-mails and schedules.”

When they stepped out of the museum, the sun had started setting. Nathalie stopped just outside, taking in a breath that for once wasn’t filtered through air conditioning.

They stood there a moment, the city moving around them. Then she turned to Adrien.

“I owe you an apology.”

He blinked. “For what?”

“For being... distant. And for almost missing this. You were right. I needed it.”

He smiled warmly. “You always did like buried things.”

Nathalie rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into the faintest form of a smile.

Chapter Text

At first, things were…peaceful.

After Gabriel's death, there was a strange, aching stillness that settled over the Agreste mansion, not cold, not cruel. Just quiet. Adrien called it a fresh start. He smiled more. She started cooking simple meals, even if they came out bland. She left the curtains open so the sun could spill in again.

And Nathalie stayed. She thought maybe she shouldn’t, maybe she didn’t deserve to be in that house after all she’d done, but Adrien didn’t push her away.

He said he needed her.

So she stayed.

The first few weeks were filled with small routines. Breakfast at the kitchen island, where Adrien would talk about his classes or his new interest in running. He'd pour her tea without asking. Sometimes he’d make her laugh without meaning to, and that would undo her more than anything else.

She kept her pain quiet. The miraculous had scarred her more than visibly. Some mornings, her legs wouldn't respond for minutes at a time. Her lungs trembled at night. But she said nothing. That was how she was raised, to serve, to protect, to carry the weight in silence.

It worked, for a while.

They even started to feel like something close to a family.

But grief has its own mind.

It came in slow.

First, she stopped coming down for dinner.

She always had an excuse, a headache, too tired, too much paperwork to finish. Adrien believed her, because that’s what she had taught him to do. Trust without question. She told him she was fine, and he wanted so badly for that to be true.

Then, she started staying in her room during the day.

She told him she needed quiet. Just time to rest. He nodded, left a plate outside her door most nights, and walked away.

She could hear him, moving softly downstairs. She could hear how long he waited for her to come down.

She never did.

The guilt festered.

Adrien still didn’t know.

He didn’t know his father had been Monarch. Didn’t know about the miraculous. Didn’t know how many lives had been twisted and ruined beneath his father’s masked obsession, and hers.

Nathalie had helped him. Every step of the way. She hadn’t just stood by, she had chosen to be involved. She had used the Peacock even as it wounded her, because she believed it was all in the name of something greater. Something good.

But it wasn’t good. It was grief and desperation dressed up as purpose.

And now Adrien would never know the truth. Because if he did?

He would never forgive her.

So instead of telling him, she started pulling back. Piece by piece.

Adrien started to notice. Of course he did. He began to leave notes under her door.

‘Missed you at dinner tonight. Hope you’re okay.’
‘Do you want to go to the museum this weekend? I’ll drive.’
‘The chef made that soup you like. I’ll leave some in the fridge, just in case.’

She kept the notes in a drawer. Never answered them.

One night he knocked gently and asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

And she almost told him everything right then, about the Miraculous, about Monarch, about the real reason she couldn’t look him in the eye without seeing everything she helped destroy.

But she just said, “No. You didn’t.”

Because that was true, at least.

---

The first time Emilie’s parents called, Nathalie fought.

They wanted Adrien to come live with them. They made thinly veiled comments about her condition, her choices, her loyalty to a man they despised. They said she was only the assistant. That she didn’t belong.

Nathalie stood her ground. Adrien stayed.

She thought that would be the end of it.

The second time they called, they weren’t polite. They sent letters. Legal threats. Cold assessments of her mental and physical state. They questioned her stability. They questioned her role. They said Adrien had already “lost enough family,” he didn’t need to watch another one fade.

This time, she didn’t have the strength to fight back.

This time, she read their words and felt like they were right.

He had lost enough.

And now he was losing her, too, slowly and quietly. Maybe he already had.

Adrien didn’t understand.

“I don’t want to leave,” he said, confused and angry. “You don’t even want to talk to me anymore, but now you just decide this without asking?”

“I’m not what you need,” Nathalie said. “Not anymore.”

“But you were.”

The words cut sharper than he knew.

She signed the paperwork the next morning.

---

Now she lives in a one-bedroom apartment where the walls are too thin and the nights are too long. She doesn’t use her full name anymore. She doesn’t unpack most of her boxes. She leaves the lights off even when the sun goes down. Continues to leave the curtains closed.

The wine is always cheap. The cigarettes come in cartons.

She doesn’t have nightmares, just long, heavy dreams where Adrien is a little boy again, asking her to stay for dinner, and she always walks away.

He doesn’t know the truth. And maybe he never will.

But she hopes that he forgives her anyway.

From a distance.

From a better life.

---

A few months ago, she saw his face on the news.

Adrien Agreste, recently married to fashion designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Photographs of the wedding. Sunlight, lace, her smile. His arms around her, radiant and open. A gentle hand resting on her stomach.

Expecting.

A child.

A new family.

Nathalie sat still for a long time after that. The cigarette burned to the filter between her fingers. Her wineglass was full, untouched.

There was so much she wanted to say.

But she wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever.

Because breaking silence would mean breaking something whole.

And if Adrien had finally found peace, real peace, not the kind they had tried to fake, she wouldn’t take that from him.

So she turned off the tv and let the room go quiet

Because love, for Nathalie Sancoeur, meant giving him the life he deserved.

Even if it meant living without him.

Chapter Text

Adrien poked at his plate with little energy, eyes flicking across the table more often than toward his food.

Nathalie was seated neatly across from him, too neatly. Rigid posture, napkin folded perfectly in her lap. Her plate, though, was mostly untouched. Just two small bites missing from the fish.

He didn’t say anything at first. But he noticed.

She hadn't eaten breakfast, either. He had passed her in the hall that morning carrying a cup of black coffee and absolutely nothing else.

“Are you okay?” Adrien finally asked, softly.

Her eyes didn’t lift from the plate. “I’m fine.”

It was automatic.

He frowned. “You haven’t touched your food.”

“I’ve had enough,” she replied, and stood. “I’m just going to get a glass of water.”

She barely took a step before her body gave out.

A sudden stumble. A sharp breath. Then the thud of knees hitting the floor.

“Nathalie—!”

Adrien jumped from his seat, his chair scraping back violently across the floor.

She was on her side now, motionless, her glasses having slid across the floor.

His stomach flipped. “No no no no, oh my god she’s dead!”

He scrambled from the room. “Gorilla! Gorilla! Nathalie fainted!”

The bodyguard was already moving. With calm urgency, he lifted Nathalie’s still form into his arms and carried her to the nearest sofa.

Adrien knelt beside her again, trying to breathe. “Please be okay, please be okay…”

He called his father. He picked up on the first ring.

“Adrien?”

“She fainted!” Adrien blurted out. “Nathalie, she collapsed during dinner! She didn’t look right, and then she just fell—”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Call the doctor. Now.”

He hung up before Adrien could respond.

The front doors slammed open.He stormed in, tie undone, not a word to anyone. Adrien had never seen his father look like that, not cold or angry, but panicked.

“Nathalie,” Gabriel called sharply, moving fast. “Where is she? Adrien?”

“She’s in the sitting room,” Adrien said, following. “The doctor’s with her, he’s been checking her for like fifteen minutes.”

Gabriel entered the room and halted. His entire body seemed to go stiff at the sight of her who was half-reclined on the couch, pale and quiet, wrapped in a soft throw blanket. The doctor stood nearby.

By the time Adrien caught up, Gabriel was already beside the couch, hovering near her like a shadow with edges. The house doctor was gently checking her pulse.

“She’s severely dehydrated,” the doctor explained, his voice neutral but concerned. “Blood sugar very low. She’s clearly been skipping meals. Possibly not sleeping, either. She’s stable now,” the doctor added. “But I’ve put her on strict bed rest. She’ll need monitoring for at least the next week with meals brought to her, water hourly, and no work. Absolutely none.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “Why didn’t she say anything?” He whispered to himself.

Nathalie stirred slightly on the couch, lashes fluttering.

Gabriel leaned closer. “Nathalie.”

She blinked slowly. “I…I just stood up for a moment…”

“You passed out,” Gabriel said, voice quieter now. “And you will not be getting up again until the doctor says so.”

Adrien stood awkwardly nearby, trying not to stare, but unable to help it. His father never looked like that. Not at anyone.

There was a tension in Gabriel’s expression that Adrien couldn’t place. His shoulders were tight, his voice too gentle.

Adrien cleared his throat. “Are you two… together or something?”

Both of them looked at him fast.

“No,” Nathalie said immediately.

Gabriel stood slowly. “Adrien.”

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, backing off a little, “you were very… quick and worried.”

“I care deeply for her she’s my assistant and friend,” Gabriel said, fixing his tie.

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “Right.”

---

Nathalie was put on strict bed rest. Water by the bed. Meals every few hours. Doctor’s orders.

She hated it.

She hated how her limbs still felt weak, how her appetite hadn’t returned right away, how the food made her nauseous just to look at but she tried. She tried because Adrien came in every day.

Sometimes he brought her fruit cut into little squares. Sometimes he just brought himself.

He’d sit at the edge of her bed and talk about his day, the cat that showed up in the garden, an awful photo Nino sent during lunch at school.

Nathalie would smile faintly. Nod along. Sometimes manage a spoonful or two.

“I know you’re not hungry,” Adrien said one evening, poking a grape toward her. “But your body is hungry. That’s the difference.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re very logical for your age.”

“Good. Now eat the grape.”

She did.

And when she winced halfway through a piece of toast the next morning, he didn’t say anything. Just quietly moved the tray aside and offered her water.

---

Gabriel, meanwhile, began imposing his own rules. She could still use her tablet to monitor house affairs until 9 p.m.

At precisely 9:01, the door would creak open, and Gabriel would enter with that maddeningly unreadable expression.

“Nathalie.”

She’d clutch the iPad a little tighter. “I’m working—”

“You’re resting.” He held out a hand. “Now.”

Once, she tried hiding it under her pillow. That earned her a long, knowing stare and a longer silence until she sheepishly handed it over..

She always gave it up in the end.

After the third night, Adrien started teasing her about it.

“Do you want me to sneak it back in for you?” he grinned one afternoon. “I can smuggle it under my fencing stuff.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Tempting.”

After that, her choices became to stare at the dark ceiling or read a book in the dark. She did both. Sometimes she dozed without meaning to.

Once, she dreamt of that salmon that brought her here.

She still struggled to eat. Still woke up some mornings looking like she hadn’t really slept. But there was more color to her now. More presence in her voice.

Adrien didn’t leave her room until she took a few bites.

He didn’t care if it took twenty minutes. Or if all she managed was a bite of banana and a sip of water.

She still said she was “fine” every day.

But now, she said it from a bed, with water at her side and someone waiting outside her door.

For once, Adrien believed she was getting better.

(He’s wrong)

Chapter Text

Adrien leaned over the stove, squinting at the pot of water.

“Do you think it’s hot enough yet?” he asked.

Nathalie walked in with her arms crossed and a deeply skeptical expression. “It’s water, Adrien. If it’s not boiling, it’s not ready.”

“I know that,” he said, grabbing the box of spaghetti from the counter. “I’m just saying it’s been like ten minutes.”

“That’s because you didn’t put the lid on,” she said, walking over to snap it in place. “Basic heat retention.”

Adrien glanced at her. “You say that like you know what you’re doing.”

“I do know. Technically.”

He stared at her. “Wait, have you ever made pasta before?”

There was a pause.

“No,” she admitted. “But it can’t be that hard.”

He gave her a look. “You’re an adult. How do you not know how to cook pasta?”

She turned to him, expression flat. “My father didn’t let me in the kitchen growing up. We had chefs and housekeepers. And after I moved out, your mother and I let your father do the cooking. Eventually, I lived here. You’ve seen this place. Do you think I’ve ever had to boil anything?”

Adrien blinked. “You know I’ve lived here my whole life, right? We’ve always had chefs.”

“So why are you expecting me to know what I’m doing?”

“Because you’re older!”

“And you’re the one who said, ‘let’s make pasta,’ like it was some family bonding experience.”

Adrien turned back to the stove. “Okay but the water is finally boiling now..”

He tore open the box of pasta, started dumping it in, then paused. “Wait… do we break it?”

Nathalie blinked. “Break it?”

“Yeah. Like, it doesn’t fit in the pot.”

“Can’t you just… push it down?”

He tried. The ends stuck out at weird angles. One noodle snapped and flung boiling water at his wrist.

“Okay! That’s aggressive,” he muttered, stepping back.

Nathalie handed him a wooden spoon. “Just stir it. I think that’s a thing people do.”

“Right.” He poked at the noodles, which were starting to soften but also clumping together.

“How long are we supposed to cook it?” she asked.

Adrien checked the box. “It says eight to ten minutes.”

“So we set a timer.”

“Do we trust the box though?”

She gave him a look. “Yes. This isn’t fine dining, it’s pasta.”

They set a timer.

By the six-minute mark, the water was boiling over slightly. Adrien panicked and turned the heat down too low. The water stopped boiling entirely. The noodles just sat there.

“Is that…bad?” he asked.

“I think you just stopped the cooking,” she said, adjusting the heat again. “Are they supposed to be sticking like that?”

He stirred again. Several noodles were already stuck to the bottom. He scraped at them like it might reverse the damage.

“Maybe if we add olive oil now?” he offered.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” she said, but he added it anyway.

The oil did nothing but float on top and confuse things more.

Ten minutes passed. The noodles were… weird. Half overcooked, half firm. Some had broken apart.

Adrien grabbed one, bit it, and immediately grimaced. “Nope.”

Nathalie tried one. “How is it spongy and still crunchy?”

They stood in silence, staring into the chaos.

“Okay,” Adrien finally said. “We failed. Again.”

“We didn’t fail,” Nathalie said calmly. “We just… miscalculated.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

She took out her phone. “We’re ordering something.”

“I wanted pasta.”

“So order real pasta.”

He sighed, then pulled his own phone out. “Same place as last time?”

“They have garlic bread.”

“Definitely”

They cleaned up in silence. The pot was full of soggy half-pasta. The strainer sat unused.

Twenty minutes later, they were at the dining table with containers of steaming, perfect fettuccine and no trace of the disaster that came before.

Adrien took a bite, nodded. “Tastes better when you didn’t almost ruin a pot for it.”

Nathalie didn’t even look up. “Some people cook. Some people don’t.”

“We’re the second kind.”

“Absolutely.”

They didn’t try again… until the cookie idea came along… only a week later…

“I want cookies,” Adrien said, scrolling through photos of fresh-baked desserts online.

Nathalie who was reading a long article on her tablet didn’t look up. “Then order some.”

“I want to make them.”

She did look up at that.

“You want to bake?”

“It can’t be worse than the pasta,” he said cheerfully.

“You say that like it’s a challenge.”

“It’s cookies, Nathalie. I feel like this is something we can actually pull off.”

“…We?”

He blinked innocently. “You’re supervising. It’s your job as my guardian.”

“Supervising doesn’t usually include cleaning the kitchen when you break things.”

“It’s fine,” he said, already heading toward the kitchen. “We’re doing this. Let’s make chocolate chip.”

Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen looked like it had been hit by a storm of flour.

Nathalie stood by the counter, staring into a bowl of… something.

“Did you measure the sugar?” she asked.

Adrien shrugged. “Roughly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I eyeballed it.”

“Why would you do that?!”

He frowned. “You told me to be independent.”

“I meant in relationships. Not in baking. Baking is like science. You don’t eyeball science.”

She picked up the measuring cup. It was still dry.

“You’re an adult. How do you not know how to bake a cookie?”

“Oh, we’re doing this again?” she said flatly. “Look, I’m sorry my life didn’t include baking warm childhood memories. We had a pastry chef and my father hated touching anything that wasn’t artifacts.”

Adrien gestured to the dough. “This looks like glue.”

She poked it with a spoon. “Is it supposed to smell like this?”

“…Did you use salt instead of sugar?”

They both stared at the bag Nathalie had grabbed earlier.

She slowly turned it around.

“Oh.”

“Oh my goodness,” Adrien said. “Nathalie.”

“Simple mistake, happens to the best of us.”

“…We’re still baking it,” Adrien said with determination. “We’ve come this far.”

The cookies went in the oven…

Adrien opened the oven and winced. The cookies had spread out like thin islands. They were flat, burnt around the edges, and slightly bubbling in the center.

“I don’t know what that is, but we shouldn’t eat it.”

Nathalie reached for the tray with an oven mitt, misjudged her grip, and nearly dropped it onto the stovetop.

Adrien flinched. “Okay, well, at least they’re—”

One of the cookie blobs split right down the middle.

“—still hot,” he finished weakly.

“You know,” Nathalie said after a moment, “for all the money in this house, you’d think someone would’ve had some talent.”

Adrien smiled.

She looked at him. “We’re really bad at this.”

“The worst.”

He grabbed two forks, handed her one, and they poked at the still-gooey center of the cookie slab.

“…Is it edible?” he asked.

She took the tiniest bite. “No.”

“Cool.”

He looked at her and grinned. “So… want to go to the Dupain-Cheng bakery?”

“Obviously.”

Chapter Text

Adrien sat cross-legged on the floor in her room again, hugging one of the throw pillows she always left there for him. Nathalie had her feet tucked beneath a blanket on the bed, robe draped over her shoulders, hair slightly out of place. She looked like she should’ve been asleep an hour ago but she was always awake when he needed her.

“You ever think about teaching me some of your fighting moves?” he asked, tilting his head toward her. “I still remember that time you took down three akumatized villains while being sick.”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “You remember that?”

“Are you kidding? You just had a dizzy spell a few hours before and then you were throwing teenagers like nothing! It was so awesome!”

She allowed a quiet chuckle. “Maybe someday.”

“Not even one move?”

“Absolutely not.”

He groaned. “Unfair.”

Nathalie gave a teasing shrug.

Adrien’s voice dropped a little. “You know a couple weeks ago Kim told me about something he did to Marinette.”

Her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“He thought it was funny,” Adrien continued, quieter. “Told it like it was some funny prank. I didn’t laugh but I didn’t say anything either. I don’t know why I kept being his friend. She deserves better than that,” Adrien said, staring down at his hands. “So I guess I’m asking… should I stop being friends with him?”

“Yes.”

He blinked. “Just… yes?”

“You don’t owe someone friendship, especially if they’ve made a habit of hurting people you care about.”

Adrien’s brows furrowed. “But people can change—”

“Yes, they can. And maybe one day, he’ll earn back that place. But Marinette deserves the peace of knowing her boyfriend isn’t around that type of people. Let her have that.”

Adrien sat with that for a while, quiet.

Nathalie leaned back, setting her now-cold mug aside. “I know you want to be fair to everyone. I love that about you. But don’t let fairness come at the cost of someone’s safety or happiness, especially hers.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

He then stood awkwardly, rubbing his neck. “I should probably sleep.”

She nodded.

He stepped toward her and gave a quiet “Goodnight, mom.”

He leaned down and hugged her.

She froze for a second but then her arms lifted and wrapped around him.

“Goodnight, Adrien,” she murmured.

He left the room a moment later.

———

Sleep did not come.
Nathalie turned onto her side.

Then onto her back.

Then onto her other side.

She huffed and pulled the blanket over her head. That didn’t help either. She tried closing her eyes and counting backward from one hundred. She got to eighty-six before her brain brought up tomorrow’s meeting, some contracts, and the fact that she’d been a villain once or twice.

She flipped her pillow. She shifted again.

Another long moment passed.

“Ugh,” she groaned aloud and sat straight up.

Her hair was a mess. Her robe had twisted halfway around her arm. This was ridiculous.

She got out of bed and stretched, moving quietly across the room. She opened a cabinet, having a stupid idea she knew she shouldn’t be doing.

She stared at the crossbow tucked neatly inside.
“…Why not,” she muttered, pulling it out with one hand.

Definitely not dangerous. Just something to do or to feel. Her body still remembered what to do with it. There was a strange comfort in that.

She slipped quietly down the hallway.

She passed through the dark living room. It was quiet except for the distant hum of the fridge. She stepped softly, not really expecting anything.

Then something metallic hit the floor in the dark.

She froze.

A low grunt. Someone whispering a curse.

Her grip shifted on the crossbow. She moved closer, quiet as breath, sharp as a blade.

“…Gabriel?” she whispered before she could stop herself.

But no, no—that couldn’t be. Her stomach turned. He was gone. She knew he was gone.

Then her instincts kicked in.

She moved fast, crossbow in hand, silent through the living room and into the kitchen’s edge. Her breath was slow and controlled. A lifetime of explorations and missions moved in her joints.

As she stepped into the kitchen…

“IT’S ME! IT’S ME ADRIEN! IT’S JUST ME!”

Adrien was still on the floor, hands flung up in surrender, eyes wide and panicked. One of the stools had fallen on its side behind him. His phone was on the floor, screen down.

Nathalie stared down at him, expression unreadable.

“…Adrien.”

He blinked. “Hi.”

She lowered the crossbow slowly.

“What are you doing?” Her tone was perfectly level, but exhausted.

“I was… uh… sneaking out,” he admitted, still not moving. “I tripped. I swear I was going to text you after I had gotten outside.”

She said nothing.

“I wasn’t going to vanish. I just… Nino invited me out. Said the group was hanging out late. I figured I’d go for an hour, at most. Be back before sunrise.”

Still nothing.

“I’m okay, by the way,” he added quickly. “Thanks for asking.”

She sighed and offered him a hand.

He took it, and she pulled him up off the floor ij one motion.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do this again.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

She gave him a long look.

“You’re not in trouble,” she said. “But tomorrow we’re going to talk.”

Adrien nodded immediately. “Totally fair.”

“And if you ever sneak out again without telling me—”

“I know. You’ll shoot.”

“Go,” she said, turning back toward the hallway. “Be safe. Be smart.”

Before she could fully turn away, Adrien stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Nathalie stiffened just a little, still not used to how freely he gave affection, but her hands instinctively came up to rest against his back.

He squeezed her tighter for a second.

“I will,” he murmured. “Thanks Mom! Love you.”

Nathalie’s chest ached in a warm way. She didn’t say anything. She just let him hold her.

When he finally pulled back and started heading down the hall, Nathalie stood there, watching him go.

Her expression softened. She looked down, almost like she was embarrassed by the smile tugging at her lips.

Then, she whispered to herself, “Love you too.”

Chapter Text

Adrien had suggested a quiet hike, just the two of them far away from the city. With nothing but the sky, trees and a backpack full of snacks.

Nathalie had agreed, brushing off his enthusiasm with a half-sigh, half-smile. But deep down, she’d been looking forward to it. She hadn’t been on a real hike in years. Not since her twenties, when she could climb mountains for days, chasing half-decayed scrolls and rare artifacts. Back then uneven paths were thrilling. Her body was light and agile. Rest stops were often optional.

She’d sighed, but the truth was she’d missed it. The quiet, the trees, the simplicity of being out of the city. Nature had been her second home. Emilie had always said she came alive out there.

That was a long time ago.

She hadn’t worn hiking boots in ages, but she laced them up anyway, packed lunch and extra water.

The trail was pretty. Birds flitted between trees and the breeze rustled the leaves. Adrien pointed out random tree shapes and weird bugs. Nathalie smiled, adjusted the straps on her backpack and followed at her own pace.

Earlier she had told Adrien she was ready. And for a while, she was.

Now… well.

Now she was feeling it.

They were only halfway through the trail. A simple one Adrien had promised would be “easy” and her leg had started that dull aching again. Not sharp, but enough to make her quietly aware that she wasn’t twenty anymore. She hated that.

Adrien was bounding up the path ahead of her like it was nothing, stopping every few feet to take a picture or pick up a cool rock. He glanced back now and then and she made sure to straighten up every time.

Still, he noticed.

“You okay?” he called back, cheerful but watching her closely.

“Fine,” she answered, masking the stiffness in her voice. “Just taking in the view.”

Adrien turned back with a grin. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

She huffed lightly, resting one hand on a tree trunk while pretending to adjust the strap of her pack. “It’s a long view.”

Adrien snorted and jogged back toward her. “Let me carry the bag.”

“No.”

“You packed like we’re crossing the Sahara.”

“I like to be prepared.”

He gave her a look then gently slipped the backpack off her shoulder before she could argue again. “You did pack sandwiches, right?”

“Of course. I was raised better than to survive on granola bars.”

They walked a bit slower now, Adrien matching her pace. Nathalie tried not to limp but the truth was her leg felt tight and uncomfortable. She hated how aware she was of every step. She hated remembering how she used to sprint through jungle paths with a compass in one hand and a map in the other. No hesitation and no pain.

Then Adrien said softly, “Your leg hurts, doesn’t it?”

She stopped.

“I—” She hesitated, not sure why that question caught her off guard. Maybe because she didn’t expect him to notice. Or maybe because she didn’t want him to.

“I’m fine.”

"You’re you," he said, nudging her shoulder with his. “Which means you’ll say ‘I’m fine’ until your leg falls off. Just… can I help?”

She sighed.

“I used to be good at this,” she muttered before she could stop herself.

“You are good at this.”

She gave a tired smile. “No, I mean years ago. When I was younger. I could walk trails twice this long without even thinking about it. I never slowed down. And now…”

Adrien’s face softened. “You’re still better than anyone I know.” He then pulled out one of the sandwiches she’d packed and handed it to her.

She huffed a laugh, but there was a tremble in it.

“You don’t have to be the same version of yourself to be good,” he added. “I don’t need you sprinting up the mountain. I just want you here, with me.”

“You know, you sound more like your mother every day.”

“Thanks, I’ll take that as compliment,” he said. “She adored you. Probably would’ve made you ride a horse up the hill if you were hurting though.”

Nathalie chuckled. “That sounds like her.”

Nathalie nodded slowly. “She would’ve loved this place.”

“She would’ve brought her whole watercolor set,” Adrien said with a laugh. “And told us the trees were whispering ancient poetry.”

“She would’ve made us stop for a ten-minute ‘nature appreciation break.’”

Adrien laughed. “She totally would’ve and for some spiritual energy nonsense.”

“She believed in everything,” Nathalie said fondly. “Even the things no one else would.”

They sat a bit longer before Adrien stood and offered her his hand. “Come on, let’s finish the trail. There’s supposed to be a great lookout at the end.”

She took his hand and stood slowly, testing her leg. Still a bit sore but manageable plus she had him.

They walked the rest of the trail together. Adrien matching her pace, pointing out clouds that looked like strange animals, and pretending to be a forest explorer. Nathalie teased him by gently swatting him with a leafy twig when he tried to climb a fallen log.

At the final lookout, they stood side by side as the wind rustled their clothes and the trees opened up to reveal the hills below.

“It’s nice,” Nathalie said.

“It’s perfect,” Adrien replied. “We should do this more often.”

Nathalie smiled. “Only if you carry the bag next time.”

“Deal,” he said, laughing.

— — —

Flashback…

She used to be the one urging Emilie and Gabriel to move faster. Meanwhile, Emilie seemed determined to turn every adventure into a sightseeing parade.

If there was a patch of wildflowers, Emilie had to crouch down and coo over them. If a bird landed nearby, she’d insist they wait quietly until it flew off “so we don’t scare it.” Gabriel would stand there looking bored, Nathalie would tap her foot, and Emilie would just beam like they had all the time in the world.

And then came the fussing.

“You’re walking too fast Nathalie !” Emilie would call, running up behind her. “You’ve had nothing but coffee this morning!”

“I’m fine,” Nathalie would insist without slowing.

“That’s exactly what someone about to pass out would say. Sit down, now.”

Before Nathalie could roll her eyes, Emilie would be digging in her bag. Out came an extra sandwich because Emilie always packed one just for her. “I know you don’t like granola bars,” she’d say, pressing it into Nathalie’s hands.

Nathalie would take it with a muttered “thank you,” secretly touched.

She could almost hear her now, as if Emilie were still beside her.

“Nathalie, is that a limp? Sit down this instant! You’re pale! You didn’t get enough sleep last night, did you? I KNEW it.”

A small smile tugged at her lips.