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Protect Adrien. That was his job. Simple. Straightforward. Easy. How many dangers could a little kid possibly face?Not many. At least that’s what he had believed at first. Boy, was he wrong.
I mean, yes, the first few years were mild. The only time Adrien did something even remotely dangerous was when his cousin Felix came for a little visit.Why and how the two of them had managed to climb to and subsequently get stuck on a ledge on the east side second floor of the mansion was still beyond him. But for the most part things were calm.
Until Adrien started modeling, that is.It started with some overenthusiastic (rabid) fans (stalkers). Those always came in hordes (packs) and he hated to harm civilians unnecessarily. The problem was he sometimes had to, because apparently his abnormally large size wasn’t deterrent enough for the most ardent (insane) ones.
Then Adrien decided he wanted to go to public school, which was understandable, of course, but didn’t make his job easier. It’s not like he could control what happened inside the school. What if he was bullied? (Turns out the only big bully in that school was mademoiselle Bourgeois, so there was no need to worry. Much).
Then came the akumas. Chaos. His job got 269568425856415 times harder all of the sudden. Adrien was either MIA during the attacks or had a bullseye on his back. Sometimes both. If he ever got his hands on that damned Hawktrash he was going to beat the everloving crap out of him and he was going to enjoy it damn it all.
And then one day, as he was looking for Adrien (again) with an akuma destroying half of Paris (Was! He loved those little ladybugs so much at the moment. So damn much), he took a little shortcut through an alleyway. Then he was momentarily blinded by a bright flash of green light. Once he recovered he looked for the source.
No. Hell, no. Nope. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t have that bad of a luck. But the only thing in that alley was Adrien. Adrien talking to a little floating black cat (the hell was that thing?) abut the akuma that was not even 2 minutes ago on the other side of Paris. As if he had been there himself. Fighting. And not as far away from it as it was humanly possible as he should have been. Gerard wasn’t blind or stupid (despite several people believing otherwise).
He turned quietly and left the alley, Adrien miraculously (he he pun) not noticing he had even been there in the first place. He got on his car and waited for Adrien’s call ( he always did call afterwards) checking the ladyblog (bad idea. Note to self:buy a new phone ASAP).
And if someone wondered from that point on why he was squeezing the hell out of several dozen stress balls (they never lasted long) every akuma attack they’d be promptly glared into silence.
Protecting Adrien was his job. Protecting Adrien was HIS JOB! How the hell are you supposed to protect a superhero? Damn.