Hey there everybody. I worked hard to get another chapter out for you. Hopefully you'll all enjoy. Things are taking a turn for the worse in this chapter, but we aren't near the end yet so don't worry. Enjoy.

Mike stepped into his house, noting that it seemed eerily silent. He'd just finished up work and was prepared to get some sleep before school. He and Jeremy's partnership at his job had only strengthened since Kevin's party, and they'd barely had an issue with the animatronics as of late. 'Maybe the old man's just knocked out on the couch again,' Mike thought. He shrugged it off, heading for the stairs.

"Where were you all night boy," came his father's voice. He rolled his eyes. Had his father forgotten the fact that he worked already?

"I was at work," he replied, turning around, "Not like you actually give a shit." The strike shouldn't have surprised him, yet he was caught off guard. He stumbled back a bit, cheek stinging from the impact. He blinked, looking up. His father was clearly drunk again, and certainly not happy. 'Oh shit. This is not good.' He turned, hoping to go lock himself in his room until the man either sobered up or passed out. His money was on the latter.

He felt something grab his bag, yanking him back. He tripped, falling to the floor. He looked up, noting that his path to the stairs was now blocked. "I raised you from birth boy. It's about time you learned not to back talk."

"Hey Jeremy. You okay?" The blonde blinked, looking over to Fritz. The redhead looked concerned, and his comment brought Scott and Vincent's gazes onto them. "You seem a little out of it today."

"Something doesn't feel right," he mumbled, looking off towards the main gate.

"Well I suppose it does feel odd not having Mike and Kevin here today," Scott commented. Jeremy looked over at them. Ever since Kevin's party, the two had been nearly inseparable. Or rather, Vincent never seemed to leave Scott alone. Not that the male seemed to mind.

"Kevin is sick though," Fritz commented, "there was no way he was going to last through school. Although we still don't know why Mike is absent. Did you get a response yet Jeremy?" The blonde shook his head, eying his silent phone.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Scott said, "he's probably sick as well. I know you're new to this relationship but try not to get too antsy." Jeremy was silent, looking down at his lap in such a way that his hair shielded his eyes.

"I just…I have a bad feeling," Jeremy said softly. For a while no one spoke. Then, someone stood. Jeremy looked up, seeing Vincent standing before him and holding out a hand.

"Come on squirt," the teen said. Jeremy took his hand, letting the taller teen pull him up. Fritz scrambled to get up, while Scott watched them without a sound.

"W-where are we going?" Jeremy asked.

"You're whining about your damn boyfriend so let's go check on him then," Vincent said, trying to look frustrated. Jeremy smiled before hugging the boy.

"Thanks Vince."

"Yeah, yeah now get off. Besides, I'd rather miss my next class anyway," the teen grumbled. Jeremy stepped back, still smiling. Vincent always wore that tough persona, but around the little blonde it always crumbled just a little.

"We'd best be going then," Scott interrupted, standing.

"You're coming too Scott?" Fritz asked.

"I thought you hated the idea of skipping class," Vincent said with a snort. Scott rolled his eyes.

"Just this once," he commented, "so don't go getting any ideas you idiot. Besides, I'm a bit worried about Mike as well."

"Well you're damn good at hiding it." The dark haired teen smacked Vincent's arm, though not enough to actually hurt him.

"Let's just go," Scott said.

"Lead the way squirt," Vincent said. Jeremy nodded, exiting the school and walking down the street towards Mike's house. Fritz walked beside him, shoulder pressed against his in a comforting way. They were mostly silent, and Jeremy's sense of dread grew with every step towards Mike's house. When they finally arrived Jeremy tentatively knocked. No one answered.

"Maybe no one's home?" Fritz asked, voice sounding nervous. Vincent stepped past him, grabbing the doorknob.

"Well it's open," he commented, "so I guess there's one way to find out."

"Vince," Scott said in warning. The violet haired teen ignored him, shoving the door open.

"Hey!" he called into the house, "Anyone there!" Silence. "Guess not." Then, a small groan sounded. Jeremy stiffened at the sound, darting around Vincent and taking off towards it. "Hey!" Came Vincent's shocked, and slightly annoyed, shout. Jeremy ignored him, skidding around the corner and pausing at what he saw. At the base of the stairs lay Mike, crumpled into a still heap.

"Mike…?" He approached cautiously, falling to his knees beside him. The teen was a mess of bruises, but blue eyes fluttered open at Jeremy's voice.

"Why…what are you doing here?" Mike asked, voice low and rough.

"I knew something was wrong," he murmured, "I could feel it. Even knowing what I knew…I never thought this would happen to you." The blonde felt tears prick at his eyes. He bent his head, shaking ever so slightly. "I'm sorry…"

"Hey," Mike said, "don't you dare apologize. You did nothing wrong. Do you understand me?"

"I should have helped you," he whispered, "back when you walked in with that bruise."

"So you really did know," Mike said softly, "Or at least figured." Jeremy only nodded, barely registering the footsteps behind him.

"Jeremy…" came Fritz's soft voice. Vincent swore, though Jeremy ignored it. They all sat silent for a moment until a voice rang out.

"What are you damn kids doing in my house?!" Jeremy looked back to see Mike's father. He looked pissed and drunk, nearly bordering full out murderous. Jeremy looked his over, spotting the weapon clutched in one hand. A small handgun, glinting dangerously.

"Back off buddy," Vincent hissed. Scott stood beside the teen, both looking ready to protect. Mike's father glared, raising the gun.

"Step away from my son," he growled.

"Like hell," Vincent snarled before diving at the man. Mike's father looked surprised, stumbling as Vincent's weight hit him. Yet Vincent, despite being tall and strong, was clearly outmatched. Mike's dad struck him with the gun, knocking the violet haired onto the ground. He didn't get up.

"I told you to move," the man growled.

"Fuck you!" came Scott violent outburst. He grabbed at the gun, struggling to stay on his feet as the man tried to pull free. Mike shifted, trying to get up. Yet he felt dizzy, slumping onto Jeremy before he got a chance.

"Fritz!" Jeremy called, snapping the redhead out of his petrified state, "Go call the cops." Fritz nodded, turning and bolting into another room, cell already in hand.

"Stupid brat," Mike's father said with a hiss. He managed to knock Scott back, leveling the gun at him. It went off, Scott falling to the floor with a groan. Jeremy grabbed at Mike's bag, anger surging through him.

"Jere?" Mike questioned softly. The blonde found what he was looking for, standing up and turning around shakily.

"You better move kid," Mike's father growled. Jeremy's hand gripped the item in his grasp tighter.

"No," he said softly.

"Jeremy? Jere don't!"

So what did you all think? Hopefully you enjoyed. I'm off now to go post another chapter on my other FNAF story. Buh-bye everyone.