Adrien's POV
The hospital sheets smelled like antiseptic and bleach. Clean, sterile. Nothing like home. Not that he even knew what home smelled like anymore.
I hadn't spoken to him yet. Not really. Not beyond that first, shattered "Dad," like something breaking inside my chest.
He was asleep now—or pretending to be.
The stitches along his jaw looked painful. His knuckles were torn. His wrists were bruised where the chains had been. I hated looking at them. I hated knowing I had the same marks on my own body. That we matched like that.
I hated that he cried when he saw me.
Not loud tears. Not dramatic.
Just this choked, wrecked silence when I was thrown into that room with him. He held me like I was something precious. Like I wasn't the reason they hurt him worse.
Nolan said I didn't deserve the way she loved me. I didn't believe him. But part of me... did. A part of me wondered if she loved me too much. If she held me too close. If it broke something in him.
I turned my head and stared out the hospital window. Ava—Mom—had gone to get coffee. She didn't like to leave us, even now. I didn't like it either, but I'd never say that out loud.
"Adrien," a voice rasped.
I turned slowly.
He was awake.
Dad.
He was staring at me like I might disappear.
"I didn't think I'd ever get to say your name again," he said.
I swallowed. My voice was stuck. I hated how my throat burned.
"You... you look older," he said, like it surprised him. "You look like me."
I looked down at my hands. "I didn't feel older," I muttered. "I just felt... gone."
He exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Adrien. I should've protected you."
"You tried," I said quickly. "You—he tortured you. Because of me. You never stopped protecting me."
He turned his face away, eyes glassy. "He said I was the reason you were there. But it was never you. It was me. Because she loved you more. And he couldn't stand it."
"She still calls me her baby," I whispered. "She never stopped."
He smiled, cracked and crooked. "That sounds like her."
"She never stopped loving you either."
He closed his eyes, like that hurt more than anything.
"I didn't know if I could forgive you," I said, voice low. "For leaving. For being gone. But... when you held me in that room. I knew. I knew you never really left."
Alex reached for me then, and I let him. I let him pull me into a quiet, broken hug. It wasn't strong. It wasn't perfect. But it was real.
And I think for the first time since he vanished...
…I felt like I had a father again.
---
Ava's POV
I pushed open the door with my elbow, two cups of coffee in hand and a ridiculous-looking pastry box clutched under one arm.
The moment I stepped inside, I froze.
They were hugging.
Adrien and Alex.
Not tense, awkward side-pats. But real. Raw. Quiet. Like something fragile being slowly pieced back together.
My chest tightened.
I didn't want to interrupt.
But also—I absolutely did.
So I cleared my throat dramatically, leaning against the doorframe like I was in a soap opera. "Wow," I said with a pout. "You guys forget someone?"
They both pulled back instantly, startled.
"Seriously?" I exaggerated the pout, stomping playfully toward the bed. "I disappear for five minutes and suddenly I'm the invisible one?"
Adrien tried not to smile. "We didn't forget you."
Alex blinked at me, confused. "Are you sulking?"
I narrowed my eyes. "No. I'm making an entrance."
"I think she's sulking," Adrien muttered under his breath.
"Oh, I heard that!" I gasped, dropping the coffee and pastry box onto the little table. "After all the trauma I've been through, this is the thanks I get?"
"Mom," Adrien said, failing to hide his grin, "you are literally holding a glittery pastry box."
"Because it's raspberry glitter bomb cake, Adrien," I said, all dramatic again. "The hospital cafeteria had a moment. It's called bringing joy into our broken lives."
Alex choked on a laugh. Actual laughter. His eyes sparkled like they hadn't in years.
And that's when I knew we'd be okay.
Not perfect.
Not fixed.
But okay.
Because even after everything… my boys were smiling again.