A/N: My apologies for the delay on this chapter; feel free to review/PM me if it's been a while—sometimes I really just need a nudge—or drop me a note on tumblr (ladylynse) if you like. I hadn't actually thought I'd do this POV, but you're seeing it at gleamqueen's request. Enjoy!


Adrien thought no one knew he called his driver the Gorilla, but the truth of the matter was that everyone but M. Agreste called him that. It had become something of a household joke, but he didn't mind being the butt of it. The head cook had a nickname for everyone anyway, and he thought it a sight better than the Rod.

The younger staff didn't know how Nathalie had earned her nickname—the stories surrounding it abounded, each crazier than the last as they were retold uncorrected—and Nathalie's nickname had certainly been earned, not given. Very few knew the truth, but shortly after her appointment, Nathalie had gotten into an argument with Cookie over how M. Agreste would take his dinner, and the head cook had shown Nathalie the other side of her wooden baking spoon.

They respected each other now, but it had been months before Nathalie would step foot in Cookie's kitchen again, and Cookie got her revenge with Nathalie's nickname—though Cookie still joked, privately, that Nathalie could've been called Broken Spoon, always claiming she'd decided against it because it wouldn't have been as good a name, not because she respected how well Nathalie had taken the whole thing.

The last assistant hadn't handled it nearly as well. Nathalie had been a good replacement. Most people just didn't use her nickname to her face because she was too likely to be in earshot of M. Agreste, and they'd fallen out of the habit.

And Nathalie had never encouraged it, not like he had.

He liked his nickname, though. Gorillas were smart. He was, even if he didn't always come off that way. You learned a lot when you watched and listened instead of opening your mouth at every opportunity. People underestimated you, too, and if you always stood there silently, waiting, never questioning, well…. They'd forget about you sometimes. Not notice you there.

That was why he knew about Plagg.

He didn't know the details, no. He'd never actually seen this Plagg. But he'd heard Adrien whisper his name, and he'd heard the voice—Plagg's voice—answer back. He had overheard entire conversations spoken in hushed tones, ignoring the furtive glances occasionally sent his way.

So, it was a little bit satisfying to see Nathalie—who was a know-it-all whether or not she'd admit it—nearly going to pieces, trying to figure out who Plagg was without directly asking anyone. He'd seen her slip the name into casual conversation with no fewer than eight different staff members, hoping to get a reaction.

She still hadn't approached him, which was a bit disappointing as they'd collaborated before and he thought he'd be a logical choice, but she had taken to avoiding him since she hadn't been able to coax Adrien from his room. He thought she didn't like him asking if it was time to take the young Agreste for a drive. She didn't like being reminded of what she viewed as an ongoing failure on her part.

He was watching Nathalie's latest failure with the sous-chef from the safety of the dining area reserved for the staff, an area he'd used more often lately since he couldn't even leave a bit early to grab a bite to eat from a boulangerie before picking up Adrien and ferrying him to his next appointment. He'd been over each of the cars a dozen times by now, too, and made a run for anything he could think of that wasn't already stockpiled in the back. He was running out of reasons to come to his job if Adrien decided he had no need for him.

Fortunately, Nathalie—who was currently paying his salary as well as everyone else's—understood the situation; there was only so much fiddling with the vehicles he could do and still be ready to run them at a moment's notice. And it was really the way she had stepped up to handle this situation—so expertly and with so much compassion, even if she didn't necessarily show it all the time—that made him decide to give her a break.

The fact that she wouldn't notice that at first would just be a little bit more payback for avoiding him.

True to recent form, Nathalie ducked out of the room the moment she saw him approaching the kitchen with his empty plate. He dropped his plate in a sink full of soapy water with a nod of thanks at Cookie before following Nathalie out. She hadn't quite managed to turn the corner to get to the atrium before he caught her.

"He still doesn't want to leave," she said without meeting his eye. "I don't want to push it, not right now. This is hard on all of us, but more so on him."

The Gorilla just looked at her.

Nathalie deflated. "All right, you can go and talk to him. See if you can coax him outside for some fresh air. I just don't think any of us will be able to do it if his friends can't."

He waited.

"I think they've all been by," Nathalie said idly. "Chloé, of course, multiple times. Marinette as well, and Nino, and Plagg—nearly all his class, I expect, and a few friends from his other activities." She was watching him carefully now, but he didn't even blink. "I turned some of them away, of course—Alix and Kim and Max all wanted to come on the same day, before Adrien was even speaking to any of us, and I simply didn't feel he was ready to be bombarded with that much energy."

It was time to throw her a bone. He cleared his throat. "You're doing good work." She allowed a tired smile to grace her face, and he added, "Marinette should know more about Plagg." The shock transformed Nathalie's face in an instant, but he had already turned on his heel with a wave of his hand in farewell. Nathalie could investigate. She liked investigating.

She might discover that he was wrong, but he didn't think so. He wasn't sure how much Marinette would know, but chances were very good she knew something.

He'd caught her doing the same thing as Adrien, after all, and that wasn't likely to be a coincidence.

Not unless the same company that made talking purses also made talking pockets.

Maybe he was just tilting at windmills, but neither Marinette nor Adrien would act so secretive if what they were doing was perfectly normal, and he had his own ideas about what they were really up to. He certainly wasn't about to share his observations with anyone else, not when he wasn't completely sure of them, but he had been compiling lists of coincidences that seemed a bit too unlikely to merely be coincidences—particularly when taken collectively.

He was content to leave it at that for now. Nathalie clearly thought the mysterious Plagg was important, but she would think that if she hadn't known of him before. He would rather focus on the young master of the house.

It didn't take long to reach Adrien's bedroom, and he knocked three times before stepping back to listen for signs of life.

After a moment, he knocked again.

Waited.

Knocked.

Waited.

Knocked.

This time, Adrien opened the door, though not immediately. He looked exhausted—even his shoulders were slouched, something the Gorilla had not seen in a very long time—and he hadn't made more than a cursory attempt at brushing his hair or finding clothes that didn't look like he'd slept in them. It was no wonder that Nathalie was nearly at the end of her rope. Adrien needed to get out.

More importantly, he needed a reason to get out.

The Gorilla knew Nathalie was trying to encourage him without pushing him, but he also knew Adrien hadn't agreed to anything so far. He hadn't agreed to go back to school, hadn't decided to throw himself into any of his lessons, hadn't even been able to drag himself down to the dining hall. Nathalie might not have told him about her invitation to Adrien, but Cookie had.

Cookie had also told him she was worried because Adrien was still only picking at the food she had sent to his room. The only thing that seemed to reliably disappear was cheese, and she'd begun giving him a more generous portion of it, but if Adrien wasn't sleeping, was barely eating, and refused to go out?

It was hardly the sort of situation anyone in their right mind would approve of.

"I'm sorry," Adrien murmured, "but I don't want to go out today."

He tried to close the door, but the Gorilla put his foot out to stop it.

Adrien, hanging on the door, looked down at the foot caught in the jamb and then back up at him. "Please, I know Nathalie wants me to go, but I…. I just can't right now. Maybe tomorrow."

The Gorilla shifted his facial expression just enough to convey his doubt of that—a slight rise of his eyebrows, held only long enough for Adrien to notice.

The boy's expression crumbled. "Okay, not tomorrow. I don't think I can do tomorrow either. I just don't feel like going anywhere right now."

To his knowledge, Adrien had not left his room since the funeral, and hardly very often before that. He'd only gone out when he'd needed to. Otherwise, he'd worked very hard at isolating himself in his room. He allowed visitors, though only if they came to him; it was incredibly rare for him to actively turn someone away, even if he would sometimes drag his feet when it came to answering his door in the vain hope that his visitors would go away of their own accord.

But if Nathalie had overheard him talking to Plagg, then at least he still had Plagg. At least he would still talk to Plagg. It might not do the rest of them any good, but it was better than having Adrien completely cut off from everyone.

He hoped it was, anyway.

Though the Gorilla hadn't moved, Adrien opened his bedroom door and stepped back, allowing him entrance. He took the invitation for what it was and trailed Adrien as the boy moved to the couch. He dropped down, but the Gorilla decided to stand. A quick survey of the room revealed that everything was as Nathalie regularly reported, and nothing seemed to suggest the presence of anyone other than Adrien.

"I'm not hiding in here," Adrien said, as if he knew exactly what the Gorilla had been thinking. "I'm just…." He shrugged. "Maybe it's better if I stay here for a while."

Adrien had already stayed in here for a while—quite long enough, if he were to actually ask any of the staff—but Nathalie was the only one who felt she really had the power to push it, and she was too tentative with her new position. She didn't want to destroy the situation before it had a chance to settle. She didn't want to accidentally push Adrien away from all of them or down a path he might not otherwise go.

She'd forgotten the power of the rod, how it was sometimes necessary to nudge someone back into a routine when they were reluctant to go on their own. Adrien needed to be pushed; he wasn't likely to go on his own, and routine—normality—was what he needed right now. She was allowing him to wallow, not realizing she was allowing him to drown.

Adrien must have seen some of the thoughts crossing his face, for the boy was quick to make his excuses. "Not forever. I don't mean forever. A little longer, that's all. It wouldn't do to tarnish Father's image." He said this in a very matter-of-fact tone, and the Gorilla didn't buy it for a minute.

True, while he thought it a terrible excuse, it was not one without merit. No one would fault the boy if he broke down in public—they would all probably be more surprised if he didn't—but M. Agerste had held his son to high standards, put pressures on his shoulders that had seemed designed to wear him down. Adrien had managed the burdens well, dealt with fans and reporters and classmates alike all spectacularly, but it was not unreasonable for him to believe his father would disapprove of him crying in public, even when he had every right to grieve. It had certainly never been deemed acceptable in the wake of his mother's loss.

"I don't want to disappoint him," Adrien added, his voice a whisper now. "I…I don't understand everything, but I can't…." This time, his voice cracked with real emotion. "I'm not sure he was proud of me. I need to figure out how I'd be able to make him proud. I owe him that much, after…after what I did. After everything."

M. Agreste had been proud of Adrien. They all knew that, even if he had expressed his disappointment more often than his pride. But Nathalie had no doubt had some version of this conversation with Adrien already, and if he didn't believe her, Adrien certainly wouldn't believe him. After all, he'd arguably had less interaction with the former head of the house. But if he wouldn't leave his room, it would be hard to show him that his father had been proud of him, too.

Which really meant, again, that Adrien needed to leave, even if it was only for a short while.

The Gorilla offered his hand. It was an invitation to get out as much as it was an invitation to get up. As he had expected, Adrien shook his head. Even better, he did what most people did when faced with silence: he tried to fill it. "No, not right now. I can't. I know you might not agree with me, but you don't know everything, either. You don't—!" His voice caught, and he took a few steady breaths before finishing, "You don't know what I do."

Everyone always thought that. They were not always right. He made his cautious skepticism known as he dropped his hand back to his side, and Adrien was adept enough at reading him to see it for what it was.

Adrien pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them, not looking at the Gorilla. "I saw him that day. I wasn't supposed to, the way our schedules were, but I did. Nathalie doesn't know. She thinks I skipped my piano lesson to spend time with Nino. I never corrected her, and after what happened, she never brought it up. But I saw Father, and the way things ended…." He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as tears tracked down his cheeks. "I want to take it back. But I can't. There's been so much that could just be undone, but not this." He broke off into audible sobs, his entire frame shaking with the effort.

The Gorilla had never been particularly adept at comforting people or anything else that required a fine reading of emotions and evaluating the best response to them, but he moved to pat Adrien's back now. The boy's remaining resolve dissolved completely. He might have intended to continue telling his story, but all he managed was a pained keening, a wordless mourning cry that pierced the soul.

It was some time before Adrien fumbled for a tissue. As he wiped at his eyes and nose, still sniffing and blinking more often than normal, he eased himself back into a cross-legged position. Leaning his head back on the couch, he looked up at the Gorilla. "That's why I can't go," he whispered, his voice still thick as he worked to speak around the lump he no doubt still felt in his throat. "Every time I think about it, I lose control. Don't make me go. I can't go. Not now."

Living was going to be a constant reminder of what Adrien had lost, but if he kept trying to bundle it away inside, it was little wonder it kept breaking out. Maybe, as much as he needed a reason to leave, he needed assurance that it was okay to do that, to go out and live his life, to find reason to laugh again. He seemed to think it would be a betrayal to be happy, to do anything that might have been against his father's wishes. He needed to be reassured that it was okay to grieve and still okay to live and to enjoy that life.

But the Gorilla knew very well that Nathalie had tried to tell him all of that. If Adrien wouldn't listen to them, then it would need to come from someone else. He had no idea what sort of advice Adrien was getting from Plagg, but Adrien's isolation seemed self-imposed; it was unlikely Adrien had taken to this on the advice of someone else. He had probably sought to protect himself.

How different he was now from the boy who had risked his father's wrath to follow his dream of attending school and making friends.

"Please go." The words were softly spoken, but they cut at him for more than just sympathy at the raw pain in Adrien's voice. "I don't want to think about this right now."

The Gorilla rested a hand on Adrien's shoulder for a moment, letting him feel its weight, its realness, and then he did as Adrien had asked.

This time, he was the one avoiding Nathalie, turning the other way when she saw him in the hallway. He headed in a roundabout route for the garage, and she stopped trying to catch him when she realized where he was going. She must have realized he didn't intend to tell her more about Plagg—she should have realized he hardly knew more—and clearly he had had no more luck than she when it came to coaxing Adrien from the confines of his room.

But he wasn't willing to give up just yet.

The route he took was a familiar one, despite the fact that Adrien tried to walk or take the metro whenever he could get away with it. He had never gotten used to what he saw as flaunting his wealth in front of his friends, and the Gorilla wasn't sure Adrien entirely understood his father's security concerns, either. But it had been part of his job to know where Adrien was at all times. He had failed in that often enough to have been stripped of his job and likely only still had it because Adrien always pretended he was where he was supposed to be or presented a feasible excuse—or at least a feeble excuse—whenever that was clearly not the case. M. Agreste had been too busy to oversee the personal details once Adrien's absences had begun racking up, and the job had fallen to Nathalie, and Nathalie trusted him.

Quite simply, she knew that he did everything he possibly could to keep Adrien safe, and he had not given her a reason to believe anyone else could do a better job. Nothing had emphasized that point more than when she'd torn up his resignation letter, insisting that she'd worked with him long enough to know there wasn't someone better than him who would take this job. She had had to reschedule a number of Adrien's appointments by that time, and it seemed she had decided the boy had a knack for giving his tail the slip.

He still suspected she'd looked for other candidates, but that didn't mean he had no appreciation for her words.

Still, the two of them—and everyone else on staff—looked out for Adrien. They had done their best not to fail him, and the Gorilla wasn't about to give up on him now. Maybe they hadn't been able to convince Adrien to leave the safety of his room, but quite frankly the Gorilla wasn't convinced any of his friends had really tried.

He pulled to a stop a few doors down from the Lahiffe residence. Fortuitously, Nino was the one who answered when he rang the bell. The boy gawked at the Gorilla before looking around him, trying to spot his friend. "Is Adrien here?" Then, without giving the Gorilla a chance to respond, "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

The Gorilla didn't quite flinch as Nino slammed the door in his face, but it was a near thing. The door opened a moment later and a breathless Nino tore past him, tugging on a jacket as he legged it to the limo for all he was worth. The door had slammed behind him, so the Gorilla merely turned to follow the boy.

"He's going to be all right, isn't he?" Nino asked desperately as the Gorilla unlocked the limousine. He didn't wait for the Gorilla to open the door for him, instead pulling it open himself and diving inside. He repeated his question once they were both in the car and the Gorilla was heading back to the Agreste residence.

But the truth was, he didn't know how to answer Nino's question.

Adrien should be all right, but he wasn't now, and no one really expected him to be right now. But in the future? That was, quite possibly, up to the rest of them as much as it was up to Adrien himself. Nino, for all his earlier distance, clearly wanted to help. He was as worried about Adrien as the rest of them. But for all that he didn't want to push Adrien, either, he was almost more likely than Nathalie to succeed in doing just that.

Nino, by the simple consequence of going to visit Adrien, was doing something for him. Nathalie offered, as so many of them had—him included. But Adrien didn't need vague offers of help; he needed someone who would do something without asking. Last time Nino had visited, the Gorilla knew, he had brought games, and Adrien's mood that evening had reportedly been better than ever in recent memory. This time, the Gorilla hoped Nino might bring Adrien to the games, rather than the games to Adrien. At the very least, Adrien might be more willing to be dragged from his room by a well-meaning but oblivious friend than a well-meaning but perfectly aware staff member.

That was really why the Gorilla didn't confirm or deny anything Nino came out with, although the boy had launched into an almost uncharacteristic stream-of-consciousness babble in an attempt to fill the silence and stave off his worry which made attempted interjections impossible anyway.

Nino was running for the house before the car had stopped moving. Glancing over his shoulder, the Gorilla saw the boy nearly bowl over Nathalie when he raced inside, not even bothering to shut the doors behind him. She managed to catch him by the arm and say something to him. The Gorilla was pleased to see the panic melt off Nino's face but happier still to see a grim sort of determination replace it.

The Gorilla left the car parked in the driveway rather than the garage, something he had only done a handful of times in all the years he'd worked with the Agrestes, and headed inside to see if his plan would bear fruit.

Nathalie was waiting for him. She ambushed him the moment he cleared the threshold, stepping into his path with furious confidence. With her arms crossed, looking down her nose at him with narrowed eyes and shot through with tightly controlled anger that made her stand too still, she would be a formidable figure—were he anyone else. But he was used to Nathalie, and she had as good as given him permission to try to get Adrien to leave his room.

"Are you sure we should be pushing him like this?" Nathalie hissed. "You brought Nino over with no explanations." She didn't sound too happy about that part of things, either, but she had always liked explanations and had never been able to understand why he thought people could sometimes just figure things out for themselves. "Even if Nino does try to get Adrien to leave—and we have no guarantee he'll even ask that—how do you know it's not too soon? Adrien is struggling! He's been through more than—!"

She might be angry, but she still broke off when he raised his hand. She wasn't necessarily angry at him, then. She simply just didn't approve of his actions and was a boiling mixture of frustration and uncertainty when it came to dealing with Adrien and the mystery of Plagg, so she was angry at herself for not knowing how to handle the situation.

Although she probably would have appreciated a mite more information from him.

"Let Nino try," he said. Yes, Adrien was struggling, but Adrien was already broken, whether or not Nathalie admitted it. It wasn't the sort of broken that could be fixed, practically replaced to become good as new, but it was the sort of broken that could leave a person stronger rather than weaker at the breaks, the sort of broken where the reassembly didn't necessarily follow the original pattern. They were all familiar with those sorts of breaks—even Adrien, as he hadn't even had time to completely rebuild himself after the first breaking.

Nathalie huffed but didn't argue with him. She moved to the side, and they looked in the direction of Adrien's room despite it being out of both sight and earshot. Nino would be allowed entrance. There was no question of that. It was the effect of the visit that had yet to be determined.

"I hope you're right," Nathalie said at length. "I hope Nino does convince him to leave. I don't think he'll feel as forced by it if the request comes from one of his friends."

He agreed with Nathalie's sentiment, but she already knew that. She was simply letting him know that she understood his reasoning.

The silence stretched between them until at last Nathalie murmured, "Marinette, you'd said?"

The Gorilla gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.

"Thank you. I'll look into it. I hope…." She trailed off. Unusual, that; she wasn't often at a loss for words. He didn't prompt her, not wanting to push her any more than she wanted to push Adrien, so when she did speak again, it wasn't to continue her unfinished thought. "Am I doing the right thing?"

He glanced at her, surprised at the doubt spilling out of her whispered words. He knew she was trying to do the right thing; they all were. But none of them knew exactly what Adrien needed when he was so reluctant to talk to them, and Nathalie, at least, would have recognized the root of the problem: there was something Adrien was determined to keep from them.

He suspected that she knew Plagg's existence was only the beginning of the secret and not its end.

In all honesty, he had no better idea than she if uncovering the truth was the right thing to do right now. Some secrets were too dangerous to keep, and something was clearly eating away at Adrien. Perhaps it was best they didn't know, that Nathalie took a page out of his book and did her best to ignore the matter, but inaction could very well make it worse, and she knew it. He knew she wouldn't let it drop, not really. Nathalie worried too much, and she'd convince herself that Adrien would break down completely if he didn't talk to someone, even if it wasn't them.

That might be why she was so interested in Plagg; if she could at least assure herself that Adrien was talking to Plagg, and that Plagg was genuinely a good friend to him, she might be able to step back. He knew she was used to stepping back from M. Agreste's secrets, just as he was. There were some things they had never questioned.

But they had never been worried about one of M. Agreste's secrets tearing him apart inside, either.

The Gorilla rested a hand on Nathalie's shoulder, much as he had done earlier with Adrien. It meant the same thing, really. He wanted to ground her, to reassure her. None of them knew which path was the right one to walk, and none of them would until they were able to look back at everything, but if they tried their best, he thought they would be doing the right thing.

Nathalie was very good at discovering secrets when she wanted to learn them, but she was even better at keeping them. If she felt she needed to step away from the truth before she uncovered it, she would. And if she wasn't sure if she was going too far, she knew she could ask him again, just as she had now, and he'd give her an answer.

He'd only ever had to tell her to stop once, and she had.

Given what had happened with Mme Agreste in the wake of that decision, he wasn't convinced he had made the right one, but Nathalie had never looked at him differently for it.

"This has to work out," Nathalie murmured, as if her own thoughts had been following the same pattern as his. "I don't expect it will be easy, but…. Adrien's so young. We can't lose him, too." She paused, and in a softer tone added, "Thank you for helping me with all of this."

She didn't turn to look at him, but she didn't need to. Of course he stood with her. They all stood with her, because she stood with Adrien, and there wasn't a single person in M. Agreste's employ who hadn't loved watching the young Agreste grow up and find his way in the world. Every one of them would help where they could.

And they would all be trying their best, hoping they were doing the right thing.

He squeezed Nathalie's shoulder, finally feeling the tension melt out of it, and went to keep himself occupied just out of sight so that he would be ready to go the moment Adrien emerged from his room with Nino.

As he got to work, he allowed himself a small smile for the first time in weeks. The path ahead might not be easy, but they would get through this. They would get Adrien through this, and that was the most important thing of all.