Author's Note: This is my personal headcanon about Mike and Mal when Mike was a kid. This story is split into two parts: part 1 is done in first person perspective from Mal's point of view and is very dark, part 2 is in third person and is much lighter. This story is very different from most Mike and Mal headcanons. You may not agree with all or parts of it, and that's okay, I hope you can still enjoy it all the same.

Part 1: The Wise Family

Prologue

Mal isn't one you'd expect to hear truth from. That isn't to say he always lies, but he does have a strong tendency towards deception. But there is one lie that he has been telling everyone, and himself, for years.

That he started out as a blank slate.

Mike believes that he didn't give Mal a personality when he first came to be inside his mind. He was his first, and his existence was unintentional. Unlike the others, Mal had no backstory or even a name. He was a personality without a personality.

But that simply is not true.

Mike did give him a personality, but it was the most tragic one of all. When Mal gave Mike back the memories he had taken and held onto for so long, he made sure to keep the ones that revealed his true identity, because really, it was never his identity at all. It was stolen from another.

Though Mal's past is one of pain and misery and fear, it does not haunt him. The crimes he committed throughout his life do not haunt him. Those who know him believe him to be untouchable, unreachable, but there is one thing, and one thing only, that haunts him. And that is his true name. Only one of Mike's alternate personalities knows his true name, but she keeps his secret, not to protect him, but to protect Mike. The rest know him only as Mal, the name he gave himself. What would they do if they were allowed to remember the truth? What would Mike do? We will never know, because Mal held on to that secret and kept it hidden his entire life.

To find out his secret, we must go back to the very beginning, when Mike's personalities first became more than just ideas, more than just imaginary friends.

My first memory is of darkness.

It took a long time to discover that I existed, that I had a body, that in my own way, I was alive. It took even longer to form thoughts, and to process the new sensations around me.

I couldn't see anything, but I was aware of my body. I wiggled my toes, and waved my hands above my head. I was sitting down, but when I tried to stand, I found that I was in a very small place, and I had no room to move around.

I didn't know any words yet, but I could find them in my head if I looked hard enough. As I searched for a way out of the dark space, two words came to me: wood, and door. There was a wooden door, and a door meant an exit. But it would not open, and a third word came to me: locked.

It didn't even occur to me then to ask for help, because I had no words, and I hadn't yet realized that I had a voice to speak with. So I sat there in the dark and quiet, wondering if I was to stay here forever. I began to believe that there was nothing else, that the world consisted of me, only me, the locked door, and the dark. I was frightened and confused, but I didn't know what to do about it, so I did nothing.

I had no concept of time then, and so I have no idea how long I was in there. I became aware of a painful sensation in my stomach, and my throat was dry, but I could not understand why.

But then the door opened and I tumbled out. I landed on my back, and I shielded my eyes against something painful. What was it? I was sure it had a name. Ah yes, light. It was so bright after so long in the dark.

I looked at my surroundings. At the time I had no words for any of what I was seeing, but looking back I saw a living room connected to a kitchen. The floor was hardwood, and the couches were made of leather. It was a lovely house.

"You may come out now, Mike," said a woman. She had light, curly brown hair.

"Who's Mike?" Those were my first words. I didn't know how I had made sound, it seemed to come naturally. I found that I liked the sound of my voice, I liked making sound.

The woman looked down at me disdainfully, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. "Go to your room, Mike, and don't let me hear a sound."

I tried to stand and walk, but I didn't know how to make my legs work, so I fell on my face. I decided to crawl, instead.

"What are you doing, child? You're five years old, act your age. Get up and walk!"

My arms and legs were asleep from being in such a cramped space for so long, and I was new to the whole walking thing, but I didn't dare disobey. I didn't know this woman, but she seemed familiar, and something about her told me to be wary around her. I pulled myself up on my hands and knees, and then I stood to my feet. I forced them to move, and I managed to keep my balance enough to walk up the stairs. I had no grace, but at least I could walk.

I don't know how I knew, but I was able to find my room without any difficulty. There were two beds, I sat down on the smaller one, not knowing what else to do with myself.

I looked at the room I was in. The walls were stark white, and there was a single window. Outside I could see the sun and other houses. All this seemed familiar to me. The floor was carpeted, and there were no toys. The room was very clean.

The woman had called me Mike, and though the name wasn't mine, it sounded very familiar. Did I have a name? I was sure I did, but at the moment I couldn't think of it. I didn't know who I was, where I was, or why I was here.

The woman brought me half a sandwich and a glass of milk not long after. She opened the door and set the plate on the floor and then left without a word. Without really understanding why, I lunged for the food and scarfed it down ravenously. Once it was all gone, I wanted more, but the pain in my stomach wasn't as bad and my throat was no longer dry. I was now able to form thoughts easier, and the words hunger and thirst came to me.

I felt a presence in my head, and then I remembered. This body does not belong to me. I didn't fight the presence, and it took back control of the body. I could no longer move my arms or legs, I was powerless inside his mind. It was a huge relief, I didn't know what to do with a body.

"How did I get back in here?" As soon as I heard the voice, I knew that this was Mike.

Memories instantly came flooding back to me, confusing at first, but then they all came together like a puzzle and seemed to make sense. I knew exactly who I was. My name was Jake, and Mike was my big brother. This was the room we shared, and I was sitting on my bed. How could I have forgotten? It seemed so silly that I had forgotten. But why was I in Mike's mind? I had no idea, but I was sure he would know. He was older and smarter than me, he always answered my questions. Maybe he could tell me what was going on. I wasn't sure how to speak to him yet from in here, but I was determined to learn.

I slept for a long time, but I don't know how long. All I know is that the next time I was in control of the body, it was not my doing. I was suddenly thrust into control, just in time to feel a fist collide with my cheek.

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" a man yelled at me. He looked kind of like an older version of Mike.

I had no idea what he had asked, or who he was, or what I had done to make him so angry. All I knew was that this man was dangerous, and I was terrified. I made a run for it, and I was almost to the door, but he grabbed me by the neck and threw me to the floor.

He hit me again when I didn't speak. I had not known pain before this and I hoped I would never experience it again. I covered my face with my arms to try to protect myself, but it offered little protection.

"You had better answer me right now, or so help me I will break your arm," he growled. "I've done it before, I'll do it again. Now, tell me why you smashed my CDs!"

I frantically searched my mind for the answer so that he might let me go. I found a memory that seemed to match with his question and blurted it out.

"Mommy smashed them!" So that was who the woman was, Mike's mommy. My mommy. And this man was Daddy. "She got mad because you were gone so long. I watched her do it! I asked her not to, but she wouldn't listen! I didn't break them, please don't hurt me again!"

That was the most words I had spoken at once since moving into Mike's head, but that didn't impress him. "You little liar!"

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I tried to block out the pain, but there was too much of it and not enough of me. Every punch, every kick, every slap, and finally, the snapping of bone made it very hard to stay awake, but I could not fall asleep, the pain was too intense for that.

Daddy eventually grew tired, but he wouldn't let me go to my room. Instead, he sent me outside to the old doghouse to sleep. My wrist hurt terribly, but at least it wasn't too cold out there.

In the doghouse, Mike's presence pushed for control again, and I gladly let him have it. He let out a loud cry of pain, but he quickly covered his mouth and stifled it to keep anyone form hearing.

"Where did these bruises come from?" he asked himself. "Oh no, is my arm broken again?"

"Why do Mommy and Daddy hurt us?" I was rather proud of myself for finally making contact with Mike.

"Who said that?"

"Me. I'm here, inside your head. Why do Mommy and Daddy hurt us?" I repeated.

"I don't know," Mike replied. "I guess I'm just bad. I try to be good, but I must be bad. Why else would they punish me?"

"Do all parents do that to their kids?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"It doesn't seem right."

"It must be, they're my parents. Parents know everything. But who are you? Where did you come from?"

"Mike, don't you recognize me? It's Jake, your brother."

"Jake? But how can that be? You… you died five days ago. You're dead."

"What's dead?"

"It means you go away and don't come back."

"But I'm here, I'm not gone, so I can't be dead. Aren't you glad I'm here? Are you mad at me because I accidentally used your body? Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, I just don't understand how you can be back after… after what happened. Are you…are you my imaginary friend?"

"What's an imaginary friend?"

"It's, um… I think it's like a person only I know about and can play with. It's a make-believe person, it means they're not real."

"But I am real, or I couldn't be talking to you."

"Maybe you're my guardian angel. I kept praying for one to protect me from… well, just protect me. You died and went to heaven and came back as my guardian angel."

Was I really his guardian angel? Was that why I was here, to protect Mike? I didn't like that idea, I didn't want to feel pain again. But protecting him would give me purpose, and everyone has to have a purpose, or what's even the point of being alive?

"Can I be your guardian angel and still be your brother?"

"Yes, yes of course!"

"Then I'll be your guardian angel, Mike. I don't want you to get hurt anymore. I'll watch over you."

"Thank you. I've never had a guardian angel before, maybe things will be better now."

"I hope so."

"And I'm so glad you're back, Jake. I missed you so much, you don't know how much."

Despite the cold and the pain, Mike was able to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time, knowing that he was safe with his guardian angel.

But what I was wondering was how I died, and how I was here now. I wasn't too concerned, but I was curious. At least I was alive at all, that was the most important thing.

The next day, Daddy left and Mommy took Mike to the doctor to put a cast on his wrist. I was scared of the doctor and Mike was too, so he was trying to make us both feel better.

"He's going to give us a shot, I don't like shots," I said.

"I don't either, but they keep you from getting sick. I had the chicken pox last year, I hate being sick."

"What's chicken pox? Does that mean you get turned into a chicken?"

Mike laughed. "No silly, that's just what it's called. When Mommy told me I had it, I thought I would turn into a chicken at first, too. I was afraid I was going to grow feathers and start laying eggs. I don't know why they call it chicken pox if you don't turn into a chicken."

"Well, as long as you don't turn into a chicken, I think getting sick is better than getting shots. I cried when I had to get my shots. But you were there and you held my hand while they did it, didn't you? It didn't hurt so much with you there. I tried to stop crying, I wanted to be brave."

"You are brave, little brother."

"Mike, who on earth are you talking to?" Mommy asked.

"Jake. He's scared of the doctor so I'm making him feel better," Mike replied form the backseat.

"Oh, okay. You two rascals have fun back there."

"After he bandages my arm, he'll probably give me a lollipop. You like the grape ones, right?"

"Yeah!"

"See, the doctor's not so bad. He's a little scary, but he only wants to help people. He'll make my arm feel better."

When we got to the doctor's office, Mommy said to Mike, "Now, what are you going to tell the doctor?"

"I fell down the stairs."

"Good boy. Let's go inside."

Mommy signed us in and we went to the waiting room. It was painted bright yellow with pictures of smiling children hanging on the walls. She started flipping through magazines and Mike went to play with the toys on the floor.

"These toys are so cool, I wish I had ones like them at home." Mike picked up a Superman toy and made it fly through the air over his head. He could only play with his left hand.

"Look Mike! It's an evil dinosaur, it's going to eat Superman's head off!"

Mike dropped Superman and picked up the T-Rex. "You be Superman, I'll be the dinosaur. Roar! I'm going to eat you and everyone else on your planet! Dinosaurs will rule the world!"

"Oh no! The planet is in danger! Only Superman can save the day! Take this, you giant lizard!"

Mike made Superman punch the dinosaur and he threw it back into the toybox and slammed the lid closed. "No, I've been defeated! You just wait Superman, I'll get out of here, and when I do, you'll be sorry! But for now, I call on… the monkey king to take my place!" Mike took a stuffed monkey and tackled Superman with it.

"A hero's work is never done! You belong at the zoo, monkey king!"

"Michael Stilleto!" a nurse called. "The doctor will see you now."

"Do we really have to go?" I asked.

"Come on Mike, quit fooling around," said Mommy.

Mike got to his feet and followed the nurse to one of the patient rooms. Mike climbed on the table and swung his legs over the side. I could tell he was nervous, though he was trying to not let it show. Mommy sat down in the chair by the table, and her eyes glazed over.

"Hello, Mike," said the doctor when he came in. "How are you, buddy?"

"I'm fine, how are you?"

"Good, I'm good. Wow Mike, this is your third time to see me this year. Did you come just to visit me?"

"No, I broke my arm again. It was an accident, I was playing too close to the stairs and I tripped and fell down," Mike recited his lines like a pro.

"That's what happened the last time you came in here with a broken bone. Are you sure that's what really happened?"

"Yes, I'm just really clumsy. I'm sorry you have to put another cast on it, I'll try not to do it again."

"Don't be sorry, son, accidents happen to us all. Now, let me take a look at it."

Mike hesitantly held out his arm for the doctor to inspect. He put his hands on it and Mike cried out.

"Yup, it's broken all right. We'll have to do an x-ray to see how far the crack goes, if it's a partial break or all the way through."

Mike hated x-rays, but he didn't argue.

"Ask if he's going to give you a shot."

"Are you going to give me any shots?" Mike asked.

"No, all your shots are up to date."

Mike and I both let out sighs of relief.

"It's just an x-ray, at least they won't be poking us with anything," I told him.

Mike endured the x-ray and afterwards the doctor showed him the x-ray of his arm.

"The break runs clean through, I'll have to set the bone before I put a cast on. Brace yourself, it's going to hurt very much."

I took control the second before he set the bone. I screamed and bit down on my other arm as tears leaked and ran down my face. It took everything in me to not run away as fast as I could. How could this be helping if it hurt so much?

"Very good Mike, you're a trooper," said the doctor. He started putting on the cast and said, "Say, where's little Jake? Shouldn't he be with you?"

"I am Jake," I replied. "Please don't give me any shots, either."

"Pardon?" said the doctor.

"I'm Jake," I repeated. "Hi."

"Oh, I get it, you're pretending to be your little brother. Is this a game you made up?"

"No, it really is me, Jake. Why is that so hard to understand?"

The doctor just laughed it off. "You have such a wild and vibrant imagination, Mike. It's good for kids to have a healthy imagination, it keeps things interesting. Miss Stiletto, bring Mike back in three weeks so I can make sure his arm is healing properly, and bring Jake in to see me, too. It's always a pleasure to see you two boys."

"Thank you, doctor."

The doctor held out a jar of lollipops. "Pick a sucker, you earned it."

It was laughable that he thought that he could make me forget the pain of what I'd just went through with just a piece of sugar on a stick, but I took one anyway. I didn't get candy often. I chose a purple one and put it in my mouth.

"Come now, Mike," said Mommy.

I let Mike take back control as we were leaving the doctor's office. In the car, Mike took out a marker to draw on his cast. "At least it's my right arm that's broken so I can still draw. What should I draw, Jake?"

I was about to answer, when Mommy said, "Don't be ridiculous, Mike. Jakey's dead, you can't talk to a dead person."

"He's here with me right now. He came with us to the doctor. Don't you remember? He was afraid of getting a shot."

"Don't be stupid, you know better than that. Jakey's gone, I don't want to hear you talking to him anymore. He's not a ghost, he's gone, end of story."

Why was Mommy so adamant about this? On the way here she seemed perfectly fine with the idea of Mike talking to me, now she wanted him to stop? And why wouldn't she believe him? Didn't she want me back? I was her son, she should be glad to have me back. Did she not want me anymore? Did I do something wrong? Why didn't she love me anymore?

"I know you're here, Jake," Mike whispered so only I could hear. "I know."