~ 1 Month Later~

The door buzzes electronically, followed by the clank of the reinforced door opening.

He nervously straightens the 'Visitor' name tag pinned to his button up shirt, his blazer draped over his arm. It had been hard for him to clear his schedule for this, especially when deep down he didn't want to be here, doing the thing he's about to do. But he had to, at least that's what he told himself.

The guard gestures for him to take a seat, three compartments down from the other person marked 'Visitor'. The woman is tearsome, middle aged, a tissue seemingly pressed into place up against her nose as she touches the glass between her and, most likely, her husband, who gazes regretfully through the glass.

"He'll be out in a moment." The guard prompts him, catching him off guard a bit.

Adrien nods and takes his seat, clasping his hands in his lap. Turning to the attentful guard, he asks, "Does Gabriel Agreste get many visitors?", trying not to let his eyes linger on the gun holstered on his hip.

He shrugs and shakes his head, "This one lady with glasses and a pantsuit used to come regularly, but haven't seen her in years." He states factually, no emotion behind his words.

Adrien nods, turning back to the glass and visually inspecting the old phone receiver hung up on the wall of his sectioned off 'private compartment'; a similar, more beaten up phone hanging on the other side of the glass as well.

His foot taps on the linoleum floor, wishing he had his phone to distract himself with, but that and his other belongings had to be put in a locker at visitor check-in. The fluorescent lights softly buzz, but becomes more and more apparent the longer he sits.

A door opens on the other side, a guard ushers in Gabriel Agreste. Adrien's breath catches in his throat, never having seen his father like this before.

Even without his designer suits and glasses, both being replaced by prison issue alternatives, Gabriel seemingly tries to take care of his appearance otherwise. Still clean shaven with his hair slicked back as the only resemblance to how he used to be. But even those things were not perfect, a few strands of hair ran awry, where before Gabriel wouldn't have allowed himself to be seen in such 'disarray', as Adrien remembers him putting it.

The beige jumpsuit washed out everything about him, hanging over his slim frame as he takes a seat without meeting Adrien's eyes.

Adrien hesitates to pick up his end of the receiver, but inevitably holds the phone to his ear, watching Gabriel reluctantly do the same.

"Father." He regards plainly.

Gabriel lifts his head to look at his son, "I see your posture has regressed. Do attempt to sit up straight, why don't you" He says stoically.

Adrien automatically reacts to his father's comment, muscle memory kicking in as he pushes his shoulders back to straighten his spine. But he catches himself doing this, forcing his body to relax back into his less rigid state. "Is that all you have to say to me right now? Criticizing my posture like I'm a child?"

"Well I seemingly should have done it more when you were one." He snaps, his own body unmoving and still, while Adrien's knee bounces under the table.

Adrien closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, "I didn't come here for your feedback on my posture."

"Then why did you come?" He leans forward in his seat, "You know, they keep us well informed behind these bars; newspapers, the occasional magazine floats around. And it seems you've made quite the impression on the public with the company I left you. And that girl you've run off with, a surprising choice to say the least."

Adrien's fingers tighten around the phone. "If you could stop judging every decision I've made in the last decade for one minute..." he says through his teeth, "I was going to tell you the happy news that that girl, my wife Marinette, and I are expecting our first child. So... congrats, Gramps." He finishes abruptly, and moves to hang up the phone and leave, satisfied with at least doing what he promised himself he would do.

"Wait!" Gabriel calls out, his muffled voice coming through the receiver.

Adrien stops, and brings the phone back to his ear.

Gabriel clears his throat, "Mnn, uh, congratulations." He admits a bit begrudgingly, briefly meeting his eyes.

Adrien nods curtly, "Thank you."

"Is that the only reason you finally decided to come by?" Gabriel asks in a neutral tone, holding back his usual mannerisms.

"It was...the main reason."

"And what was the other reason?" He asks, his impatience creeping back in.

Adrien shakes his head slightly, "Just, just why, why," he stutters quietly, his vision blurring.

"You will need to be more specific, son."

"Why couldn't you let her go?" He implores suddenly, his one hand banging on the table, vibrating the thick glass between them. The guard behind Adrien, gives a warning to calm down.

He takes a breath, apologizing to the guard, before turning back to his father, "Why couldn't you just let mother go?" He restates with a more stable disposition, "We could have healed together, become a family again. But, you couldn't."

"I did what I had to do."

"Yeah, that's what the court files say! Did you ever consider that other families have tragedies as well? And they don't go looking for, for magic to torture an entire city for years in hopes of breaking the laws of nature? We could have grieved like a normal family!" He condemns, his words coming out at a more feverish pace.

"We aren't a normal family!" Gabriel snaps, cutting the building tension. "I loved your mother more than anything in the world, if you can imagine. More than any possession, more than any fame I had, more than-"

"Me." Adrien cuts in, stating it like a fact, without judgment, as if it's something he's known a long time.

Gabriel deflates a bit, "So you might understand; if anything were to happen to your Marinette, and you had what I had at my disposal, look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't do anything to get her back." His lip curls on one side to a sickening smile, the first real expression he's made since sitting down.

"Never." Adrien answers a bit too quickly, like a reflex.

Gabriel's smile stays in place, "You're lying to yourself, Adrien. What if you returned to your home after this visit and found Marinette dead on the floor-"

"Stop."

"-and not a soul in Paris can help you. But you know a way to save your wife and unborn child-"

"Shut up."

"-a little thing called a Miraculous, when used correctly, can save them. And the only thing standing in your way, are a couple of KIDS!" He practically growls, flashing his teeth, his anger and frustration resurfacing by just thinking about Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Adrien drops the phone, letting it hit the desk as he storms out of the facility before the guards behind Gabriel restrain him and drag him back to the innards of the prison.

~

On the drive home, he can't keep his father's words out of his head, 'You're lying to yourself, Adrien'.

He would do anything for Marinette, he knows he would, especially with a baby on the way. If anything were to happen to her, could he, would he fall onto the path his father trekked and has now laid before him?

The image of the Miracle Box also burns in his mind. With Marinette as the Guardian, she needed a safe place to put it. He had a locked chamber under the floorboards of their bedroom installed when they moved in together into the apartment he had built above the bridal boutique. She carries the key with her at all times.

'Father went mad with the power of one Miraculous, and I have 20 under our bed.' He contemplates to himself.

He parks, realizing he's made it home without recalling anything from the drive, as if he were on auto-pilot. He sighs, realizing the visit wasn't what he was hoping it would be.

He steps into the backdoor of their Boutique and calls the elevator. He rides it up to the 3rd floor where their apartment is. A small hallway leads to their front door which he unlocks. Stepping in, his head jolts up to the sound of a fire alarm going off. "Mari? Marinette!?" He drops everything and makes a beeline towards the alarm. "Marinette!" He yells, his heart in his throat.

He skids to a stop in the smoky kitchen where Marinette is waving a towel at the smoke alarm, her other hand propped against her lower back. She jumps at the sight of him, "Adrien! I didn't hear you come in." She coughs, gesturing to the charred pan on the stove, "I swear I only looked away for one moment and-"

He crosses to her and hugs her tightly, ducking his head to rest on hers.

Though caught off guard, she still comforts him, rubbing her hands along his back. "Did you see him?"

He nods.

The alarm finally quiets, leaving a hollow silence around them.

"Y-you know I'd do anything for you, right?" Adrien chokes out, loosening his embrace.

She manages to catch his eye, looking up at him worriedly, "Yeah..." she braces her hand on the right side of her waist, putting pressure.

"That's what I'm afraid of." He frets.

Mari guides him over to the kitchen table to sit down, holding his hands between their laps as she sits next to him. "'Afraid'? What happened with your father?" She prompts, wanting to help him.

He shakes his head, "My father would do anything for my mother, to get her back. That's why he wanted our Miraculous, that's why he Akumatized people; it was all for her. Or at least, what it started out as.

"What if-" his hands squeeze hers, "what if you leave me, what if something were to happen to our child? What if I'm just like him?" He takes a shaky breath.

"Don't say that. You're nothing like him," She urges, trying to bring him back to the light. "You're...stronger than your father; you always have been." She sighs, "If something were to happen to me, I know you could get through it."

"It didn't feel like I could. You forget, I've already lost you once before." He kisses her fingers; a tear runs down his cheek.

She wipes it away with her sleeve. They rarely talk about that day, the day of the original fire. It was one of the reasons Adrien started therapy later that same year; too many nightmares. "And you saved me, I'm right here." She cups his cheek to wipe another stray tear away.

"But what if I didn't. What if I chose to do anything to save you?" He stares at the space between them. "I could have taken your Miraculous, and done what my father always wanted to do himself-"

"Please don't talk like that. You're not that man. You're not your father. You're Adrien," her tone softens, "my Chat Noir."

His body relaxes, the doubt slowly melting away from his mind, "Thanks. I'm sorry I spiraled."

"Don't apologize, I'll always be here for you, no matter what." She promises.

He takes a steadying breath, "Thanks. Now, how 'bout I clean out this pan for you?" He picks up the culprit pan, the bottom black with charred on food.

She exhales a silent sigh of relief, "Oh please do, I did quite a number on it."

As he turns towards the sink, he fills the pan with water, causing the still hot skillet to erupt with steam. Once it's mostly cooled, Adrien gets to work on it while Marinette finishes up the rest of dinner.

After a moment, he speaks up, "I was thinking of having Agreste Manor demolished." He says casually, but Mari can tell he means it.

"Really? I mean, it was your home. You really want it gone?" She confirms, stirring a pot of noodles slowly.

The Manor had sat mostly vacant the past decade or so. Adrien did live there after Gabriel was arrested, but was left empty after he really started running Agreste Fashion, his meetings, and at the time, Chloe, pretty much kept him out of Paris for years and years. Until he convinced Chloe to return to Paris for their wedding. The Manor was spruced up before their arrival, making as if he had never left. A feeling Adrien did not particularly like.

After he found Marinette again, they lived with her parents while her boutique was being rebuilt. Adrien preferred this to living in the cold corridors of the Manor. Her parents were more than welcoming to Adrien, as they always have been since his childhood. He helped in the bakery in his newly found time off, after delegating the abroad meetings to his close business partners.

Once the boutique and subsequent living quarters, situated on the floors above, were finished, the newly engaged couple moved in together with their hamster; happily living here ever since. And never once had Adrien looked back on the Manor.

"This is my home," he avows, "that was just a place I lived. The bakery felt more like home than that place." The pitch of him scraping the pan changes, putting more force behind it.

She turns off the stove and comes up behind him at the sink, running her hands down his arms, "Then I support you." She kisses his shoulder blade, "I just wanted to make sure that you're sure."

He runs the pan under the water and holds it up to show her it's spotless surface, "I am. I'm gonna make some calls in the morning."