A/N: New chapter, yay. Felt like doing some work on this story again, so here it is.

Thank you to Muttlpe Mike for reviewing the last chapter :)

Enjoy!

"I promise the walk won't be too long," Duncan reassured Mike as they headed out of the town square towards his and Zoey's house, in the same part of town as Mike's but far enough along that Mike wouldn't really recognize it. Their close proximity would become an issue, as they would end up having to pass by Mike's house in order to get there, and that would prove a difficult task-too many windows, not enough overgrowth out front to shield the view of the road from anyone inside who happened to glance out at an inopportune moment. They could only mentally cross their fingers and speed along, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible despite one of them crutching and having a height disadvantage.

Their not-so stealthy tactic seemed to work, for the moment anyway, as they made it past the house without alerting anyone-at least, they assumed that, as no one yelled out or gave chase. If their luck didn't run out too quickly, it would stay that way.

Mike stole a sparing glance at his house as they passed by. He almost swore he caught a pair of eyes looking back through one window, but they quickly vanished. He hadn't discerned any malice in that gaze, and that both concerned and relieved him.

Duncan and Zoey's home was much smaller than Mike's place, but much easier on the eyes and well loved, clearly. A stone path led up to a not-too-ornate wooden door, said path lined with various plants. The house had two visible floors, the first clearly being the more dominant of the two. Duncan opened the door for Mike and he heard quick footsteps coming from what he would soon understand to be the kitchen.

"Duncan, do you realize they're looking for him-?" Zoey asked as she appeared, getting a closer look at the two. She placed her hand over her mouth in shock upon seeing Mike's condition-it was better than a week ago, but still not great. He leaned heavily on the crutch Hatchet had given him, diminishing his height. His hair was messy and drooping sadly onto his face, only partly covering the areas that were still a bit bruised and battered despite getting treated daily since he'd arrived at Hatchet's.

"Yeah, yeah...I know," Duncan replied, scratching the back of his neck in a semi-nervous fashion as he looked at his wife.

"Who's looking for me?" Mike asked quietly, still out of the loop and looking between the two with his one visible eye. There was a severe lack of energy in his voice. The walk had taken more out of him than he'd realized.

Duncan gave Zoey a look that read 'I'll explain later'. Zoey bit her lip before ushering Mike to one of the nearby well-cushioned seats. He seemed relieved to be sitting on something soft, letting his crutch settle on the floor with a small thud. "Sorry…" he mumbled an apology for the noise.

"Don't worry about it, Mike," Zoey replied quickly, picking up the crutch and setting it carefully against the wall next to the chair. "Would you like something to drink or eat or...anything else?" she asked, her tone turning to the quieter side the longer she extended the question.

"...no, thank you…" Mike replied in the same voice as before, sinking more into the cushions. His clothes suddenly felt dirty and almost sticky; he felt bad for allowing them to touch the nice cushions. He really should change...oh wait, that wasn't a possibility. It hadn't been for the past week. He still wore the same outfit he'd worn that night at the palace, although he had taken it on and off whenever Hatchet had needed to treat areas that the clothes covered. Still, he wouldn't complain about it. Why bother now, it wouldn't change much anyway…

"Are you sure?" She didn't want to push him, that was clear in her voice, but she was very much worried about his current condition.

Mike hesitated with his reply, glancing down at the floor, towards his feet.

"You don't need to be afraid to ask for anything, from either of us," Zoey said helpfully.

"...I've been wearing this for a week," Mike admitted, pinching the edge of his overcoat with his fingers, still focused on his shoes.

"Let's get you some different clothes, then," Zoey decided, keeping her likely continued shock and questions to herself for now. She looked at Duncan and gestured at him to go off to a different area of the house. He walked out, eventually returning with a container of sorts, filled with various bits of clothing. "I keep a lot of old projects and costume prototypes here," Zoey explained to Mike, sitting next to him. He finally looked at her, blinking. "There should be something that'll fit you," she added, smiling kindly at him.

Mike nodded once, a barely noticeable movement. Duncan placed the container down on the table that stood in the center of the room, making sure it was in reach of the two. Zoey leaned over and started to rifle through, eventually finding a couple things that would most probably fit; that turned out to be a shirt and a pair of pants. She offered them to Mike before setting them, gently and now neatly folded, onto his knee. He looked at them for a moment, not moving. "Where do I change…?" he finally asked. He didn't really want to get up, honestly, but he couldn't put the clothes on sitting down.

"There's a guest room that way," Zoey pointed in one direction, towards the back of the house, before standing up to hand Mike his crutch. "I'll carry these for you," she insisted, taking the folded clothes back for the time being,

Mike put all his weight onto his crutch as he stood and adjusted his position, then followed Zoey off in the direction she'd pointed in. She opened the door for him once they arrived, and waited outside the door once he'd entered so that she could open the door again.

The guest room was nothing special: a bed big enough for one, a window peeking out into the backyard and letting in plenty of natural light, a small bedside table, and a dresser that fit the room just so, with only a handheld mirror atop it. Mike made as quick of work as he could flinging off the various layers he wore til he was bare-chested up top, safe for a few bandages that had been hidden away and would remain so to the other two. He slipped on the shirt Zoey had handed over to him and did the same with the pants. She'd been right, they both would do nicely for the time being.

Feeling much lighter after taking all that off, he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling exhausted once more. Having ensured that the offending clothes wound up in a small pile next to the bed, alongside his shoes, he leaned back, letting himself sink into the pre-made sheets that felt unused, likely because they had not been in some time. He took a slow breath in and out, closing his eyes and folding one of his long arms over to place a careful hand on his abdomen. When was the last time he felt this comfortable? Sure, his body still ached, in some places more than others due to his medication working in strange ways, but he had grown unfortunately accustomed to the feeling, so it didn't bother him as much at the moment. I could get used to this, he found himself thinking. Lying here, unmoving. Nothing around to hurt me...

"You doing alright in there, Mike?" he heard Zoey ask through the door, following a small knock.

"Just fine," Mike replied, his voice suddenly sleepy.

"Okay," Zoey replied. "Feel free to rest in there for now. Let us know if you need anything," she repeated before opening the door a hair and walking back to the main room, where she began talking to Duncan, her tone shifting drastically. Mike only heard the start of it before he shifted his position and fell asleep.

"You'd better start explaining yourself, Duncan...what's going on?"

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