A/N: *blows party horn and falls off chair* 50. WHOLE. CHAPTERS. AAAAAAAAAAAA

This month is also this story's fourth birthday month so to be hitting this chapter milestone in February is insane.

Still in the one day to advance the plot, but I'm hoping it'll be done in a couple more chapters. This has been the most complex mini arc I've written ever.

Thank you once again to Kitkatkatester for that essay of a review last chapter, it really made my day :)

Enjoy!

The clinking of plates echoed through the kitchen as Zoey moved about, setting them down on the counter. She had insisted that she required no assistance, leaving the two stepbrothers to awkwardly wait in the living room. Duncan had already left for town to speak to that Burromuerto guy, the name having been recalled from the little card he'd been given the other day.

Mal had parked himself on the couch, staring at the ceiling, his outermost leg dangling off the edge as he lay completely flat; it nearly touched the floor, the couch not long enough for his horizontal height.

Vito was wandering a bit through the space, nervously looking around and stealing glances at him that were not nearly as subtle as he likely hoped they were. Even in his current state, Mal was very intimidating. Vito had thought of himself as a tough guy, now he wasn't so sure...

"Come and get it!" Zoey called from the kitchen.

Vito stopped his meandering and walked to the kitchen. Your standard lunch had been put on three plates, one of which Zoey picked up. Notably Mal had not joined them there. "You can eat in the living room, as long as you don't make too much of a mess," she told Vito with a smile.

"Ey yo, I ain't no messy eater," Vito assured her, following her back to the living room.

"Lunchtime, Mal," Zoey said after entering the living room.

Mal continued to stare at the ceiling.

"It's here, whenever you want it…" Zoey placed it on the table in front of the couch.

"Mm," Mal hummed in reply.

Zoey headed back to the kitchen to get her own food, sitting in one of the chairs. Vito followed suit, unable to help watching as Mal's food sat untouched on the table.

"S'good food, yo," Vito remarked after a few bites.

"Aw, thank you," Zoey replied to the compliment. "It was no trouble to make it."

"I donno howta make stuff, so," Vito pointed out before munching once more.

As the two talked small, Mal had repositioned himself to eat...on the floor? He sat cross legged between two of the chairs, keeping his plate on the floor, despite there being a table and several available seats, including where he'd just been lying down.

Vito happened to notice, and asked, "Ey, whatya doin' eatin' down there?" His tone was confused more than condescending.

Mal glanced up at him between two bites. Don't talk to me, read his face before he looked back down at his food, the half that could be seen anyways; the other half continued to be covered completely.

"Weird, yo…" Vito decided before going back to his own food. He really does totally look like Mike when he had his hair like that, he thought to himself.

Mal placed his plate back on the table, the dish looking spotless. Zoey took it and her own plate back to the kitchen; Vito was still eating.

Mal was the one watching him now, once again on the couch, only now he was sitting up straight, if a bit tensely. Truthfully he didn't know what to say; normal person conversation did not come easily to him anymore.

Vito could feel Mal looking at him, and looked back at one point. "Ey yo, ya wanna say somethin', or…?" he asked.

Mal huffed, crossing his arms "...if I did I would," he spoke matter of factly.

"Uh huh," Vito replied. "Okay. Hey, can I ask why you got your hair all up in your face like that?" he wondered. He himself preferred to slick his hair back. "Doesn't seem all that, uh, what's that word, yo…" He visibly thought for a moment. "... practical!" he finished.

"...I've always worn my hair this way," Mal replied honestly, blinking his visible dark ring-lined eye. He had another reason for it that he would not dream of disclosing to Vito, as it was none of his business what had happened to that side of his face.

"Hm, aight, Mike-I mean Mal-uh-" Vito slipped on the name. Maybe because he was still stuck on the strikingly similarities that Mal's appearance had to Mike's at some point or another. "My bad, yo."

Mal stared at him, feeling himself tense even more. His gloved fingers curled inward and scratched at the cushion of the sofa, but since they were covered it didn't do any damage. He exhaled loudly, his expression appearing to be one of unfortunate recollection. "Ensure you don't slip up like that again," he strongly advised quietly.

"Whoa, didn't think you'd react like that, sorry," Vito apologized quickly. The staring made him feel uneasy.

"Sorry doesn't even begin to fix it," Mal said through gritted teeth but remaining physically calm, other than the slight shaking of his hands. Clearly something much more than a simple naming mistake was getting him worked up.

"Whadya want me to do about it then, huh?" Vito asked. "I ain't no mind reader or whateva. I don't know you and you don't know me, yo, and I ain't smart 'nough to know what's right to say when."

"...I want what I can't have ever again," Mal replied simply after some silence, the tension in his posture only lessening slightly. "I can only hope to reobtain what little there is of it left." Pause. He stood up, once more his head staggeringly high above where Vito sat.

"You love your family, don't you, Vito?" he asked him.

"...'course I do, yo," Vito said slowly. "I ain't got no one else." Even if he didn't agree with their actions a lot of the time. What else could he do?

"If harm were to come to them, would you be angry?" Asking the real questions here...but what was he getting at?

"Yes? Who wouldn't be?" Vito replied with a question.

"If you had to see your brother unable to move because he'd been beaten so badly he could barely stand without pain-" His breathing was unsteadying again.

Vito hadn't seen Scott that way… "I'd get him help, yo," he said truthfully. "Wouldn't let him stay that way."

"...good," Mal said with an eerily calm tone. "He's going to need it."

By the time Duncan arrived in town, things were starting to wrap up in the office of Mr. Burromuerto. He had just sent Courtney off to deliver the papers first to the courtrooms to get them approved, taking no more than a few minutes, and she was now in transit to the town's resident keeper of records on all things related to the town's population.

Courtney was spotted unfortunately by a greasy looking tall child who seemed to like how she looked. "Hey there, pretty giiirl!" After sulking in town all day, finally, he could do something worth mentioning.

"Um, hello?" She continued to move as he followed her.

"Where ya goin'?" he asked nosily. "Name's Scott, what's yours?"

"Why should I tell you that?" she asked with a small frown.

"Because I could escort you there, as the streets are no place for a lady all by herself-" he was trying hard, wasn't he?

"Excuse me, it's broad daylight and I can handle myself just fine, thank you." Courtney started to walk faster.

"Aw, come ooooooooon-" Scott drawled obnoxiously.

Courtney had already made it to the right building and quickly shut herself inside the doorway. The room smelled of paper and oddly strong perfume.

"Now where'd she go?" Scott wondered, having lost her quickly after getting distracted.

Courtney breathed a sigh of relief when she no longer heard his voice. "Hello again, Mildred, she said politely in geeeting to the record keeper.

"Oh Courtney, hello! And I'm trying out Blaineley for the week, please, use that instead," the record keeper insisted. "Another delivery from my favorite lawyer man in town?"

"Yes, Blaineley," Courtney had never appreciated Mildred's habit of changing names every time she came around, "fresh from the courtroom." She handed her the papers.

'Blaineley' leafed through the stack, skimming everything. "Ooh! How terribly tragic, this'll make the top of the board when I put it up tomorrow!" She had a board she kept up to date with the various population numbers, the main attraction of which was a section of the week's deaths and births. Usually it wasn't a very long list since the town wasn't very big, and the population rarely fluctuated. "If only they'd found his body, it must've been something horrific-" she commented with an enthusiastic smile as she continued to read the details.

"So you have what you need?" Courtney asked in interruption, not wanting to spend much more time there

"Of course, honey, thank you so much for stopping by! Tell Al I said hello for me, will you?" she requested with a raised eyebrow.

"Sure…" Courtney said before she left, but not before running into Scott again. "Ugh, go away," she insisted, pushing past him.

"Why should I?" he challenged.

"I work for a lawyer. I could have you tossed in jail pretty quickly," Courtney bluffed. Al wasn't a criminal lawyer; he didn't have that ability. But Scott didn't know that's who she worked for.

"Oooh, a working lady! Adorable," Scott said with a terrible grin. "Imagine having to work." He sounded much more condescending, but in a joking manner.

Courtney's frown deepened, and her walking had turned into a light jog at this rate.

"Where ya goin'?" Scott called out, trying to catch up. He was promptly stopped by someone halting him abruptly. He felt something tighten around his middle.

He heard an accented chuckle from behind him. "Well well well, runnin' after a Sheila now, are we?" a familiar voice said as Scott struggled to move.

Scott craned his neck. "You again!" he said with an angry frown. "Let me go!"

"Aw no, I ain't lettin' ya go nowhere 'til she outta sight, dingo. I saw what you was plannin', s'all in the eyes, y'see," Manitoba explained with a smirk. He held the rope with one strong hand as he adjusted his hat. He was wearing the belt from their last meeting, and its gems gleamed from his waist.

Scott growled, struggling against the rope. It was rubbing into his skin the more he moved against it because friction is a thing. "I wasn't gonna hurt her or anything, I just wanted to talk!" he claimed.

Manitoba looked and saw that Courtney was out of sight before undoing the rope, recoiling it and strapping it back onto his hip. "Ain't nobody taught you howta reel one in? Can't say I'm surprised," he said offhandedly.

Scott was checking for marks; his skin had only slightly reddened around where the rope had touched it. "You're gonna pay for this," he promised before running off.

Meanwhile, Courtney had made it back to the building. She heard talking coming from Al's office, one of the voices being unrecognizable to her; Noah had yet to reappear.

"What do you mean you can't tell me?" the unfamiliar voice-it was male-asked accusingly.

"Señor, I ensure complete confidentiality with each of my clients. I can't go around telling everyone everything someone is doing with their assets," Alejandro said matter of factly, sounding as if he was trying to calm the man down.

"Can you at least tell me why he's come here so often? I'm worried for my friend and I need to understand what's going on-" The man was raising his voice.

"Excuse me?" Courtney knocked on the half open door.

Both men stopped. "Courtney, you may come in," Al spoke calmly.

She opened the door fully. The guy who had almost yelled at her boss was standing opposite him, a clearly desperate look on his face as he silently glanced at her. "Everything's gone smoothly. It'll be public by tomorrow," she said simply, looking at Al.

Al smirked. "Excelente. Gracias, Courtney. Your timing is impeccable as ever."

Courtney nodded. "He should be back any minute. Should I let him through when he gets here?" she asked.

"Certainly," Al replied with a nod. "This little meeting won't take much longer. You may go back to your desk now."

Courtney nodded again and turned to leave. "Mildred sends her regards," she said before leaving and the loud talking resumed. She only heard a few names before she returned to her own small office.

That poor guy's family she thought subconsciously about the legal proof of death papers she'd just delivered, having had a small peek at the details. It'd be a blow for sure, hearing your long missing child/sibling would never come home.

After all, it was impossible to bring back the dead.

Right?

Milestone celebration time woot woot

Like I did at 40, I have some questions for y'all who have made it this far.

1. Favorite scene/moment from chapters 1-25 and from chapters 25-50? 2. Favorite/least favorite supporting/minor character? 3. Favorite mini-arc?(ex. market day, the festival, the ball, etc.) 4. Best/worst overall chapter? 5. Anything you'd like to ask me, the author, about the story?(if it's a good question I'll answer it via PM)

If you have a lot to say about the questions and also want to leave an actual review of this chapter, I'd recommend PMing me all the answers and reviewing as normal. If you've ever thought about reviewing, this would be the chapter to do it. Also, if you really like the story and want to keep up with it moving forward, consider a follow maybe possibly?

Thank you all so so much for reading this far. I feel more motivated to keep working on it when I see that people are reading it.

Next chapter will come when it does. Til next time, stay safe out there y'all, and I'll see ya next time :)