A/N: This story just passed 70000 words so woohoo

Thank you Kitkatkatester for the review last chapter :)

Enjoy!

The second night of hearing things was what led Vito to investigate the forbidden bedroom. It was the middle of the night and they'd kept him up; Scott was something of a heavy sleeper so the noises hadn't woken him.

Maybe it's a rat or somn', he thought as he grabbed a random object from the dresser and left the room to stand in front of the unopened door. The breathing sounds were quieter now, more subdued, and combined with a strange, intermittent garble...but he was still nervous to look. "C'mon Vito, it's just a door," he told himself quietly before taking hold of the doorknob and jiggling it a bit; the door was unlocked, and he held his breath as he slowly creaked it open.

The room was dark but it was definitely a bedroom, as he'd been expecting from his vague memory of the day they'd been told not to go in there. He couldn't see too well in said darkness but basic shapes of a bed and other typical bedroom furniture were visibly shadowed by a thin strand of moonlight coming through the window at the back of the room.

He looked around before peering down and spotting another, less ordinary shape. Curled into a ball of sorts, it lay at the foot of the bed, shivering as one of those garbled noises sounded off.

Should've brought a candle Vito thought as he tried squinting to see a bit better. He gripped his item-a canister of hair product-and elected to roll it on the floor carefully so as to possibly alert whoever or whatever was there.

The can hit its mark gently with a clink and a surprised gasp followed. Startling him, Vito retreated back one step and wound up in the hallway again with the door opened wide.

The figure remained still before pushing the can away gently with its foot-that was definitely a human foot-before retreating again into its original shape, only tighter now. "...sleep again…" a familiar voice croaked, almost inaudible.

...looks like I found him, Vito thought. Why's he on the floor? Bed's right there…

He couldn't focus on these questions. He could hardly focus on his surroundings, it was so dark and he wasn't fully awake. Morning...Come back then he decided as he rubbed his eyes.

He did reach in to grab the canister but nicked his finger on the edge. "Ah!" he exclaimed under his breath, dropping the can again. He quickly went off to wash his hand, leaving the door open and the canister on the floor.

Morning came and Vito had almost forgotten what happened because he'd slept later than usual due to the lack of sleep the previous night. When he did get out of bed he noticed that Scott was already up and out...and that's when he heard the yelling.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd leapt out of bed so quickly to leave the room and have last night foggily flood back to him.

"So you really thought you could hide from us, huh?!" Scott asked with great anger as he held the door to the second bedroom wide open. His other hand was tightly in a fist.

There was no verbal response from within the room, only quickened breaths and that continued garbling sound. Despite himself Vito hesitated to step in right away since Scott hadn't become physically violent and he wasn't super alert yet.

"Answer me, Multiple Mike," Scott threatened, stepping forward into the room and towering over him as he remained on the floor.

"...n-no…" Mike finally stuttered out. His voice sounded more hoarse and gravelly than normal, he was probably dehydrated. In the light it was much easier to assess the state he was in, and it was not pretty.

Scott frowned. "Then how do you explain disappearing for two days, something doesn't add up here," he pointed out.

"...I...I couldn't think…" Mike slowly tried to explain, not making eye contact. "...everything went numb…" He didn't expect any sympathy from Scott but he wasn't going to lie right now because it wasn't worth it.

Scott scoffed and grabbed him by the shirt collar, the same shirt he'd worn into town with them. "I couldn't care less how you felt, you idiot, that doesn't excuse you for not doing the one thing I asked of you. I can't believe how ungrateful you have to be to screw up like that when I gave you a chance to redeem yourself from last time. Do you want us to trust you?"

Every word felt like a dagger cutting deep into Mike's skin, though that may have also been Scott's crooked nails, because he knew Scott was right: he couldn't do anything right anymore. His brain had tuned everything out the moment he'd read that sign, and this is where it got him.

Maybe he didn't deserve the chance to grieve and deny and feel the hole his family had left within him expand and consume him. Perhaps he didn't have the right to cry over what was lost, not that he even could anymore.

If he couldn't be trusted to do one thing, why should they trust him to do anything?

"Ey...I trust him," his train of deprecating thought was abruptly halted.

Scott's head whipped around. Vito stood inside the doorway, his hands by his sides. "Excuse me, what?" Scott said confusedly: "Did I just hear you correctly?" He dropped Mike's collar from his fingers and Mike brought his hand to his neck and collarbone to check if Scott's nails had broken the skin there again.

"I didn't mumble none, yo," Vito replied with a steady voice.

Scott blinked at him. "So you trust the servant... more than you trust your own brother," he came to conclusions under his breath.

"Don't twist my words, bro, I didn't say that-" Vito retorted.

"No, no you are not doing this to me today, Vito, it's too early in the morning," Scott decided, his voice breaking a little bit with anger. He wasn't listening once again.

"I ain't tryna start somethin', I just said I trust Mike," Vito insisted, suddenly nervous for himself.

Scott suddenly stormed out of the room, pushing past Vito with a shove. "I'm really looking forward to the day I don't have to deal with your stupid nonsense anymore," he said venomously, probably directing the jab at Mike but being unspecific enough that Vito felt it applied to him.

The two who remained were silent until Mike's stomach growled-oh, that's what that weird sound had been.

"...you really trust me," Mike parroted him quietly. He was back to fully lying on the floor.

Vito ran a hand through his currently messed up hair. "Yeah, uh, I do," he replied with a shrug. "Don't got a reason not to, yo." He brought his arm back down.

Mike looked up at him and- woah, he could actually smile? That's new. It was a very weak one but a smile nonetheless.

Vito cleared his throat. "You need help gettin' up?" he asked as if the answer wasn't obvious.

"...yes…" was the reply.

Vito nodded and helped him stand up and sit on the edge of the bed. Somehow he looked worse than he did after the ball...must've been the dehydration. "Um, I'll be back," he decided, leaving the room to get dressed.

Mike didn't verbally respond, as his focus was keeping himself upright. There was a thin layer of dust on the bedsheets and he didn't need to be coughing right now on top of everything else.

Vito trusts me he repeated again in his head.

"Scott, quit the attitude for one second and open the door for me," he heard Noah faintly downstairs.

...wonder where he's going this time...

Please review and all that good stuff. Also I posted a new one shot recently not related to this story so maybe check that out if you want.

Stay safe out there and I'll see ya next time :)