Note: You can actually thank Chase Mihael Keehl for this chapter :)

Mello
The next day, the lawyer called my parents, in front of me, on my demand.
He was more than certainly right about them being up to something, and I needed to talk to them. Knowing my mother, she could spit it out, on the very possible off chance that her mind wasn't fast enough to stop her mouth from talking.

I knew that it was a trait that my father hated in her. I had sometimes wondered if they loved each other, their relationship was never intimate, or I never witnessed it, actually, no kisses, no hands holding, no tender gestures, nothing. I had always put that on account of the fact that they weren't demonstrative, but now, the doubt was there. The way they acted toward each other right in front of my hospital bed was more than a reserve about public displays of affection, they looked so cold toward each other...

They were very different and I never knew why my father had married my mother, what had made him fall for her. Even on the pictures of her young, she wasn't pretty. But he was handsome and highly educated, and although she was from a good family too, her temper was something hateful most of the time. I suppose that he was just too laid back.

I had loved my parents, I never really had a family life like Mail had, but I wasn't unhappy per se. I knew they hated me being gay but as long as we avoided the subject and didn't stay around each other too much, everything was fine. Or at least, that's what I believed at the time. They wished I wasn't gay, they were often busy, but other than that, that was my family, that was how it worked. But since they had known I was with Mail, it was different. And since I had seen Mail's family, and the fact that they treated me more like a member of their family than my own did, the gap between the two changed my view on things.

But before I talked to them, I wanted to see Mail. Today would be only about him and me catching up, my parents could wait tomorrow. I also did this on purpose, because I wanted Mail to tell me if he had interacted with my parents, and what had happened, so I was up to date with everything before I talked to them. Maybe they had told him something, a clue, anything.
It wouldn't be easy, speaking was still straining me a lot, but I didn't want it to last, I had always hated unresolved situations, and I just wanted to resume my happy life with Mail. With my parents out of the picture.
I was aware that what was waiting for me was a long rehabilitation process, I wasn't dumb, I knew in which state I was in and that it wouldn't be easy to recover fully, but I couldn't care less.

I was happy that I could finally sit in my bed (well, if you can call sitting the fact that the head of the bed was slightly elevated...) because I couldn't stand laying there all day. And I could see the people facing me better.
It was a weird feeling to witness my own improvement. I had had the impression of being stuck there, unable to do anything, and now I finally could move a bit (at least just my non broken arm, and my non broken hand, which unfortunately weren't on the same side so it was pretty useless), and my head didn't feel so heavy that I couldn't hold it up. The pain was lessening, too, and the doctor explained to me that my body was now recovering faster, not so tired anymore of dealing with the pain. I still had weeks in bed ahead of me though, due to my various fractures, and the complications they had created, but I had been informed that part of my bandages would be taken off next week, the skin on my face, and mostly on my upper half, was now able to heal without protection.

When Mail arrived, I smiled but stopped just in time. I felt my lips so dry, ready to split open again, and grimaced.
The lawyer left, leaving us alone, as Mail approached the bed. He fumbled in his pocket a bit, and, leaning, he deposited a kiss on my lips, smiling and looking in my eyes, before opening the cap of a small plastic tube. A strong cherry smell came to my nose as he started to rub the chapstick over my lips.
"They didn't have chocolate." he chuckled, carefully applying the greasy substance, "There. Now you can give me your most beautiful smile."
And I did. It was a very simple thing, but the fact that he had thought about such a small detail made me realise how attentive he was to me.

We chatted a bit, but soon the conversation drifted to my parents. I managed to tell him how they had reacted and what they had said, but the face he was making, there was something wrong.
"Mail... is there something I should know? Tell me what happened with them... I know something happened."
He told me everything. From day one of my accident. How they had tried to bring me back to Germany, how he had argued with them. But there was something he wasn't telling me. He almost did, it had something to do with the prosecutor, he was telling me about his fight to get help from the man but had stopped abruptly, and there was a missing piece. Mail had tried to make it up but I knew that he was purposely omitting something.
But no matter how much I insisted, he kept his ground and told me there was nothing more, that I was worrying for nothing.

But still, I couldn't believe how far my parents had gone. I didn't recognise them at all. They would have taken the risk for me to die, just to bring me back to Germany? Now I understood why Mail's mother had gone to such an extent to keep me here...
I didn't insist more than what I did already with Mail, because I was starting to feel exhausted. It had been two hours that we had been catching up.
It was still really hard to believe, all that he had done for me. I'm glad that he had gotten help though, because the way he talked about everything, I could feel how much it had taken a toll on him. But there was something I would have to clear as soon as possible: that Jeremy that apparently helped a little too much to my opinion. I wasn't jealous, I trusted Mail completely, but I didn't trust the guy. Maybe I was wrong, but something was ticking me.

Matt
The pirouette I managed to do when I realised that I was about to speak about the Mafia unfortunately didn't go unnoticed. I did my best to lure Mihael into thinking that nothing more had happened with the prosecutor, but I knew he didn't believe me completely. He gave up trying to make me say it though, and for once I was grateful that he got easily tired, because his stubbornness would have been hard to deal with otherwise.

The prosecutor had warned me, I shouldn't be the one telling Mihael that his parents were in the Mafia, and from what I could see, Mihael didn't know for sure. I know that he wouldn't doubt me if I told him, but he didn't need to know. Soon we would get rid of his parents since he could refuse their visit, they would be back to Germany, and all would be good and the Mafia part forgotten.

I could see that he was slowly speaking less and less, so I decided to let him rest, and just stayed here next to him, holding his non broken hand.
His nails were in such an awful shape, and he still had dried blood all over them.
"I'll be right back." I smiled to him and exited the room, trying to find a nurse.

I came back with a small recipient full of soapy water, a toothbrush, a nailfile and a towel.
Carefully, I cleaned as much blood as I could, the broken hand was the hardest one because I was afraid to hurt Mihael, but I couldn't stand seeing his hands in such a state.
It took me a while, but except where the nails had been torn, it looked pretty decent. It had healed a lot in three weeks, and soon the broken nails would be long enough to cover the tip of his fingers again.
I patted his fingers dry with the towel, and made my best to remove any sharp edge with the file.
"I'll steal some red nail polish to my mother for next time." I winked at him, putting everything away.

My poor Mihael was exhausted. I couldn't decide if I should leave him or not, part of me knowing he wouldn't rest fully if I was here because he was fighting to stay awake, the other not wanting to go, but a nurse came to tell me that it would be best for me to leave now. I kissed Mihael, tasting the cherry chapstick on his lips, and put some more before exiting the room, seeing him smile to me sleepily as I closed the door.

I was anxious. He would see his parents tomorrow, alone, without me, without the lawyer. But I knew the time they were supposed to be here, and I wouldn't be far. There was no way I'd let them without surveillance, even if it was from afar. And I would be by Mihael's side as soon as they would leave. Of course because I was eager to know what they had to say, but mainly because Mihael was hurt by their behaviour, and I wanted to comfort him. I know that he wasn't close to leaving the hospital but if he couldn't be with my family, my... his real family would come to him.
My mother was impatient to see him again, and it was even more obvious by the way she questioned me as soon as I came home from the hospital.

"My little fox!" she almost squealed when I opened the door of the apartment, "You look happy! How is Mihael? Is he better? You didn't tire him too much, did you?"
I laughed, hugging her and kissing her cheek, "He's better, we talked a lot and he was tired so I left."
"But you worry for him." She said, seeing me frown slightly.
"His parents are coming to see him again tomorrow."
"Oh... He finally agreed on seeing them?"
"Yes, he wants to talk to them about what they have done... I'm not really sure that they'll feel sorry though, but they may tell more about their motivation, that's mainly why he wants to talk to them."
"Well, I hope that they won't make him upset, he doesn't need that... poor angel..." my mother sighed, pouring coffee to both of us as we sat in the dining room.

The next day, half an hour before the Keehls' supposed arrival time at the hospital, I was parked close to the hospital's entrance, smoking with my window open. They would probably see me, but I didn't care. I wanted them to know that Mihael wasn't alone, and that he was guarded.

Right on time, I saw a taxi stop a few feet away from my Camaro, and the Keehls step out of it. They walked past my car, and discreet as it was, they obviously spotted me, Mihael's mother giving me a scowl, while his father averted his eyes quickly, doing as if he hadn't seen me.
They entered the building, and the wait began.