Mike's POV!

Mike Teavee was sick. He was sick of not being able to do things. He could handle not talking as much. That could've been an excuse not to interact with the others. But he had limits. One cannot simply be ok with being shrunken, bullied by giant freaks inside a television, bullied by the same freaks outside of the telly, and not having anything in the same size as him. The opening of the door to the bedroom he was going to share with fatty woke him from his self-pity party.

The room itself was quite small to be shared by two people (even if it was enormous for someone like him). One normal-sized bed with a chest in the side, on which sat a mike-sized rock which he assumed was supposed to be a bed. He spent the first two minutes pushing the "bed" closer to the far edge of chest so Augustus couldn't crush him during the night.

"Hello, Michael."

Talk of the devil. Mike looked up at the giant face of Augustus Gloop. Seriously, the guy's face obscured everything else from view.

"Hey, Gus. Can you move to the side? I can't see anything else." He said in his now embarrassing squeaky voice.

"I'm sorry; I didn't hear what you said. Can you repeat it?"

Here we go. Mike cleared his throat and tried to sound as loud as possible.

"I said: Can you move?"

"Oh, ok then." The German boy shuffled over to stand by the bed, as if he was afraid it would explode. Maybe he was scared mike would suddenly pull out a mini riffle and start shooting him screaming "DIE DIE DIE". Given the way he behaved at the interview and the tour, it wasn't surprising. He tried to start a chat as a peace offering.

"So how are you coping with the punishment thing?"

Surprisingly, it seemed the other boy had actually heard him.

"I am still scared of those little Oompas. My shoulders still hurt from the pipe and I feel as if I won't ever be able to eat again" he said it as if it brought back the pain. "How about you?"

Mike thought for a second. Should he open up? The kid had given him something, so it would be fair if he did so as well. Just as long as he sounded indifferent about it all, it would be fine.

"Well, my body hurts, my throat hurts, my head hurts and I can't use anything else anymore."

"What happened?"

He stiffened. That tone. It was the same one the therapists used with him. As if he needed help. As if they thought they could help him. He went into defensive mode before he could stop himself.

"It's none of your business."

"What is?"

Both boys turned to the door, which Charlie had just passed. He wore a confused expression. Mike answered him before fatty had the chance to even open his mouth.

"Nothing. If anything, it's none your business either!"

Both boys looked at him startled, and Mike lowered his head down in shame. Great. Now he had had two people scared of him. Maybe I should apologize…no, I shouldn't. I've just been tortured, for god's sake! I deserve to be on edge. His stomach took the cue and gurgled. Loud.

"Are you hungry?" no, I just ate a frog and now it's singing inside my stomach.

"no."

"thirsty?"

"no"

"Anything?"

"no-*cough**cough* Mike punched his own chest a few times. Didn't they get that what they were doing wasn't helping at all? It was bad enough that he probably couldn't do anything alone anymore. They didn't have to just keep rubbing it on his face.

"I should go. Wonka says he wants me to do a few things." Charlie said before leaving the room.

Mike just collapsed face-first on the rock bed and stayed there until he felt a poke on the back of his shirt, and turned his head to the side to look at Augustus. The German boy looked at him sadly.

"We all are hurt, Michael. Really." He said. The two just sat in silence for a few minutes, until Augustus left to clean himself.

(TIME SKIP TO AFTER THEY LEFT THE CHOCOLATE ROOM)

"Do you need anything, Michael?"

"Mike. And no, I don't."

It was the fifth time Augustus asked this and it was starting to get on his nerves. Actually, everyone was. First Charlie, asking him if he needed anything all the time, then Violet, hugging him as if he needed it, and now Augustus, doing the exact same thing Charlie had! Dinner wouldn't be ready for a long time still, so mike had a lot of time to feel sorry for himself. The metal door opened, revealing the last person Mike wanted to see.

His dad was even worse than the rest. Until then, he wouldn't give his son a second glance unless he was in trouble. He couldn't care less about or notice if mike didn't eat or sleep, or even if he spent three days in a row playing video games, no breaks included.

Usually mike didn't mind being ignored. It wasn't like his teachers would ever call his parents about grades. He was the top of the class, after all. He actually stopped caring when they showed no surprise (or interest, for that matter) in the fact that he could multiply and divide fractions at the age of 7.

But now that he could no longer direct himself to all places and 'needed as much help as possible', in the words of pretty much everyone, Norman Teavee decided that he should start doing his job as a proper father. It was absolutely infuriating!

"Mike…"

"What?" he said it in a monotone, expressing his impatience towards the man, though it didn't have much effect with his chipmunk voice.

"It's time for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"Son, you have to eat something" since when was that important?

"Why do you care? It's not like you've ever cared before. Why now?"

"Mike, I'm trying to make up for everything I didn't do. But I can't do this unless you allow me to." ooh, so he's trying to pester me to make up for everything.

"I gave you hundreds of chances, hundreds of times for you to be a real dad. But you always blew them. Why should you deserve another one? WHY?"

They stood in silence for what felt like centuries, but really, just mere seconds passed.

"If you need anything, I'm in the room to the left. See if Augustus can bring you there"

"I don't need help."

The metal door close slowly after the man.

"Micha-Mike. I think your father just wants to help." He had completely forgotten Augustus was in there as well. He looked up at the boy, and rubbed his eyes so no tears would fall from them. Why did everyone have to make him feel so weak, and small, and dumb? He didn't want help. He just wanted someone who wouldn't just treat him as some sort of glass doll that might break at any second.

Mike didn't notice when he drifted off leaning on Augustus's pudgy finger.

As always, reviews are appreciated. This was the last one I had pre-written already, so updates might take a while to come. AND THE WINTER HOLIDAYS ARE STARTING NOW!