Zeke's POV

Three hours and twenty seven minutes.

That's how long ago Massimo and Juliana should have been back. I told them not to send him to pick her up. I knew that bastard would get the two of them into some shit. They could be lying dead on the side of the road right now for all we know.

Holy shit. I'm never going to see them again, am I? I can just picture it. A joint funeral. Two caskets- Well, one casket. We'll have to cremate Massimo because of how heavy that bastard is. Otherwise there'd be no getting that thing off the ground.

I can practically envision the headstones. Cause of death: Stupid older cousin, can't drive.

How long has it been? It must have been a few hours since I last checked- Nope. Still three hours and twenty seven, no, twenty eight minutes.

I let out a breath, tapping my stupid watch after the screen goes blank again. Nobody has gotten any word from Massimo, or Juliana. The bastard turned his fucking phone off when we started calling too many times.

We being me, but that's not important information. When we checked the GPS to the car, we saw they were in some weird as hell location nearly thirty minutes from here.

Whatever this was, it had to be Massimo's doing. That asshole couldn't follow simple directions to save his life. No. It always has to be his way. His orders, his directions, his smelly breath.

"Zeke, for the last time, I am going to ask you to please stop wearing out my carpet. I get that you're worried but I don't plan to refurbish anytime soon, thank you." Uncle Stefano calls out to me tensely.

Okay, so maybe I've been a bit annoying with my pacing, but can you blame me? I mean, am I the only one that cares for Juliana's- I mean, our cousins' safety?

It's been three hours. I can forgive maybe ten to fifteen minutes, but hours? Come on. Something has to be seriously wrong.

"What if something happened to them? I mean, how do we know that Massimo didn't drive the car off the fucking cliff, or- oh my god, Massimo's driving.

They're dead. I'm never seeing mi piccolo angelo again." I hear laughs, but they don't faze my thoughts.

Poor Julie. She was too young. Too young to be subjected to Massimo's non-existent driving skills. He's probably traumatising her at this very moment, and we all know she doesn't need any help with that.

"They're sitting in the driveway now, you dramatic shit. Jeez, and he's how much older than us?" I don't pay attention to Angelo, instead I make a beeline to the front door.

How dare Massimo do that to us? Does he have any idea how worried I- how worried we all were?

I get outside just in time to see Massimo slinging Juliana over his shoulder. Because yeah, it's not like he could bust the stitches around her g-tube by doing that.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demand, and Massimo looks up at me, still bent over, not in the least bit surprised.

"I'm getting the child you're currently attempting to wake up inside of the house. Why?" He replies cooly, reaching his arm inside of the car and pulling out two flimsy cups filled with I-don't-even-want-to-know-what.

Part of me relaxes in seeing the two of them okay, but that part is quickly overrun with agitation. Does he know how reckless he's being? Nobody knew where they were or if they were alright.

And yes, I did make sure to give him a piece of my mind all the way into the house.

"Dad, please make it stop." He complains, interrupting me might I add, but Uncle Stefano only laughs at him. Good, at least he sees reason.

"Ezekiel, I think that's enough. You've effectively annoyed the shit out of everyone in this house. Kindly shut fuck up." My dad snaps, using my legal name.

Wow. It's like I'm the only person in this house that can't seem to understand why Massimo is getting away with being so... so immature.

Massimo, using the final two brain cells he has left in his head, sets Juliana down gently on the couch, leaning her against Hunter who gladly hugs her to him.

I drop my head back, taking in what was supposed to be a calming deep breath, but Maria lied. This shit does not fucking work very well.

I have to remind myself that I either sit down and shut up, or my dad will probably try to beat my ass in front of everyone.

I sat down next to my mother, grouchy as she normally was, she hates public affairs. She doesn't take her eyes away from the tv, though she does reach over and pat my knee.

Am I acting like an emotional idiot? Maybe. But with everything that has happened lately, I guess they'll just have to excuse me for 'overreacting.'

Juliana stays passed out cold for the next couple of hours. Uncle Carlo and Aunt Edith took their kids, Jamie and Gino, to a walking trail with Justin and Hunter. Uncle Stefano disappeared with Aunt Stephanie after claiming they had some 'adulting to do'.

We all know they went to go fuck, but something about them trying to disguise it just made it seem that much worse.

Mom and Angelo went to the gym and I'm pretty sure Mackayla's out by the pool. Not sure where our grandparents have been because I haven't seen them all day.

It wouldn't surprise me if they were going at it too. Because let's be honest, Uncle Stefano had to learn it somewhere.

Eww, old people sex. That's even worse than thinking about my Aunt and Uncle. God, what is wrong with me?

The quiet is nice, I won't lie. With all the shit that's happened the past couple of days, this house has felt like a circus.

We had seven more family members move into a house that already occupied fifteen people. And it's been a complete shit show up until now.

When they first got here, Jamie was practically throwing a tantrum over not being told what was going on. But in her defence, emotions were high and what else can you truly expect from a fourteen year old?

Was it completely necessary for her to break my favourite bottle of cologne after she slammed her door so hard that she not only cracked the plaster, but rattled the wall so hard it knocked everything off of the counter in my bathroom? Probably not.

Jenson just seemed stressed the fuck out and completely done with this entire situation, and Gino completely shut down.

Wouldn't talk, didn't leave his room until he was forced to. The first willing interaction we got from him was when he asked to see Juliana. He barely even acknowledged his own parents. But hey, I promised myself that I would be less judgmental this year.

That resolution is definitely going down the drain, but until then, I just have to keep smiling and remind myself that we all process information differently. If Gino wants to be a little bitch that's on him.

I go through about four episodes of NCIS, Juliana waking up at random times throughout. I swear, that child is possessed. She jerks straight up, stares into my soul for a good three seconds, and then falls right back down onto the couch.

When Juliana finally did start to truly wake up, she let out a sigh, rolling towards the back of the couch as she let out the cutest little yawn.

Drawing her knees up to her chest she pressed them between her and the couch. Her eyes blink open slowly, and I really don't think she's fully ready to be awake yet.

Or that's just the pills Massimo gave her.

Five minutes. Five minutes of absolutely nothing. Juliana just keeps staring at the back of the couch, body laying limp, eyes blinking slowly. She doesn't look fully here, in the present, but she's not daydreaming either.

It's like she's been left with absolutely no thoughts. Oh, that would be a good movie idea. A kid who doesn't pertain the ability to produce thoughts of their own. Left entirely to the will of others.

Look at me being all fancy. Using big boy words like; pertain. Who cares if that's probably the wrong use for the word.

But if I think about it, that's probably been done already. And I guess it's a little too similar to Ella Enchanted. I hate having little sisters. Especially ones that got whatever they wanted when they were a kid. Mackayla is the sole reason I have just about every line of that stupid movie memorised.

I get up from the recliner I was sitting in, grimacing when I feel squeaky pops throughout my legs and lower back. I refuse to believe that I am getting old. Those are just.. Preparation squeaks.

Yeah, that's what it is.

I walk over to where Juliana is laying, barely taking up a full cushion in her curled up position. I sit down on the couch, placing a hand on her boot, just in case she gets the smart idea to try and kick me, as I pat her leg with my other.

She doesn't really react much at first. She blinks a little more rapidly for half a second before she goes back into her dead, glazed over stare. I pop the back of her calf a little harder, saying her name. It gets her attention, at least a little bit, because she stops breathing.

Okay, not the ideal response, but it's an acknowledgment at least!

"Phug og Zeke." She slurs, turning her head and pressing her face into the couch.

I think she's having a stroke. First she's practically in a coma for four hours, wrong analogy to use, my bad, then she can't speak correctly, and now she's trying to asphyxiate herself with a cushion.

When she doesn't come up for air, I get a little worried, pulling lightly on the collar of her shirt. She tenses, straining against me.

Worried I might be aggravating her bruises, yet desperate to make sure Juliana can breathe, I take a small chunk of her hair, close to the scalp, and gently apply some tension.

I make sure to not yank her, and my grip is by no means tight. It was just enough that I could create space for my hand to fit between her forehead and the couch so I could make sure she had an airway.

"Oww!" Juliana cries out, snapping her head back as tears gather. No longer does she have a distant look in her eyes. Instead she is very much glaring at me as her body hiccups the warning of a disaster situation starting to unfold before me.

My eyes widen and I wrap my arms around Juliana's waist, hoisting her to sit upright. The tears start falling as the first telltale heave starts.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have grabbed your hair like that. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry." I sooth, trying to deescalate a situation that's so far gone even Veronica Seider wouldn't be able to see it.

The first sob erupts from Juliana's mouth, her left hand going and reaching back behind her head. I can see her fisting the area around where I so stupidly pulled her hair, though she's got a much tighter grip than I did.

"Oww." Is all she sobs out, tensing her arm and yanking at her hair repeatedly.

"Juliana what the fuck!" My hands shoot up, lodging between her clenched fist and prying her fingers open. She barely acknowledges it, just goes to grab her hair again but I block her.

Using one arm to pull her close to me, use my other hand to rest on her head, protecting her scalp. She just starts hitting my hand with a closed fist, and using the hand of the arm already wrapped around her body I grab her bicep, pinning it to her side.

She gets frustrated and starts stomping her hurt foot down onto mine, making me grit my teeth. It is a very unpleasant feeling. Almost reminds me of that one time Jameson "accidentally" pushed the kitchen table onto my toes. How do you accidentally flip an entire table over?

I'm calling bullshit.

The only reconciliation I get is the fact that I know that had to hurt her a lot more than it did me. And I know that because Juliana's sobs promptly turned into a borderline horror scream worthy heaving.

She bends her knee, holding her leg up above the ground as she bites my shoulder through my shirt. Guess that's what I get for being such an awful person. I'm sorry I don't want you to get hurt, Juliana.

"Motherfu- you know what? That's okay. That's perfectly fine." I choke out, looking up at the ceiling. "I should better be caught up on all my rabies shots anyway. Shit, I need to call my doctor after this."

You know, where is everybody? Like, how can they not hear Juliana acting like I'm murdering her in here? Why do they all suddenly disappear when she freaks out? Also, I get it, I'm an asshole for even thinking about touching her hair, but is this really the deserved reaction?

But nobodies here, and Juliana is still on a fucking warpath, determined to either hurt herself or me. So I hold her.

And I keep holding her.

And holding her.

Until eventually she starts calming down. Her screams turn into choked sobs as she stops fighting me, and then eventually those sobs turn to sniffles as she relaxes in my arms.

I let her lay there, half hoping she would go back to sleep. She doesn't, but she's no longer screaming, so a win is a win.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. I'm sorry because I upset her so badly. And I'm sorry because I didn't know how to react, and I probably hurt her in the process. And I'm sorry because I know that not all of that was caused solely by me grabbing her hair that one occasion.

Juliana takes in a deep breath, turning her head that's resting on my shoulder. She takes her arm that I have recently released and wipes her face before sitting up.

She stares at me, cocks her head to the side, and smiles.

It's a wide smile, one of pure joy. She takes her hand, still wet from tears, and smacks it down on my right eye, earning a grunt from me. She giggles, resting her hand there as my brain tries to comprehend what is happening.

Is this really the same girl who, not five minutes ago, was having a full blown psychotic meltdown?

I grab Juliana's wrist, pulling it away from what I'm sure is my now black eye, and she giggles harder. I stare at her, less than pleased because this girl just fucking bitch slapped my eye. But also because I'm wondering if maybe we should have her evaluated.

Juliana leans forward, kissing the cheekbone she just reddened. "Tutta meglio?" She whispers, her voice a little raw, and a whole more than baby-ish. (T- All better)

I close my eyes, pressing my lips together as I give her a clipped smile and a sharp exhale. "No. No, Juliana. Not 'all better'."

"No?" She asks, and I repeat it back to her. "Aww." She murmurs under her breath, pouting her bottom lip and cocking her head again.

"Don't give me that." I say, putting a single finger on her forehead and pushing her back. She falls back on the couch, hitting the pillow with a laugh. She tried sitting up, but every time she tried I would push her back down again.

Eventually she must get tired of that because she stopped trying to get up, just content on laying sprawled out on the couch.

"Sono sete." She whines, kicking out both feet at me. I'm able to catch her left one, effectively saving both my ribs and her ankle.

I'm not, however, able to dodge her other foot, and that one just so happens to find the spot right directly between my rib cage and my hip bone. Goodbye quadratus lumborum. (T- I'm thirsty)

I think my cousin hates me. I mean, in the past half hour, she's managed to claw my hand, bite my shoulder, I may just need to amputate my toe, and now she's trying to cause me to never stand straight up again. And then she had the audacity to demand a drink?

"Zee." She whines, gearing her leg up to kick me again but this time I stand, dropping her left leg on the couch. Juliana huffs, kicking her right leg into thin air.

I pick her up, resting her on my hip as we make our way into the kitchen. Juliana, content that she's turned me into her little servant, starts kicking her legs happily and humming something that sounds suspiciously like 'We Will Rock You.'

I set her on the counter with instructions to not move a muscle and she makes a big show of drawing in a big breath and holding it. I tickle her side, causing her to exhale as she lets out a shrill laugh.

I grab a glass from the cabinet above her head filling it with water from the fridge before I turn and hand it to her. Going back over to the fridge I pull out a Gatorade for myself, opening it and taking a sip as I make my way back to Juliana.

"You've got to be kidding me." I groan, screwing the cap back on and setting the Gatorade aside. "Is any of that making it inside your mouth?" I ask, locking eyes with Juliana who has the entire cup tipped upside down, a majority of the water spilling over her face and trailing down onto her clothes.

When she heard my voice she hadn't stopped pouring the water everywhere. No. Of course not. She simply looked me in the eye as she tipped the glass further, making even more of a mess.

I nod my head at her, reaching over and taking the drink from her, ignoring her whines of protest.

"Okay. I'll admit that one's on me. I should have known better." I say, dumping the remaining water in the sink before abandoning the cup. I turn my back on Juliana once more, my first mistake, in search of a more kid-proof cup.

I found one of Justin's in the cabinet that I think will work. It's a plastic cup, with a handle, that has a lid with a little stump coming out the top of it where Juliana will be able to drink from.

I wish it had a straw connected to it, that way she could hold it with her right hand and not have to move her arm, but it looks like she's stuck using the left for a little bit. It's her fault for dumping water on herself.

As I go to grab the cup, I freeze, cringing when I hear the sound of glass shattering.

"Shit." I mutter, turning around and seeing Juliana sitting frozen on the counter, an entire foot from where I set her. Her left hand was stuck grasping thin air as the once intact glass cup she had been drinking from was laying on the floor, completely demolished.

From the looks of it, Juliana had found a way to scootch over to the sink and grab the cup before it fell out of her grasp and toppled to the ground.

"Okay. I'll take credit for that one too. I should have known you were incapable of following directions." I nod to myself making my way over to her so that I can move her to the table, grateful that I still have my shoes on when I crunch on multiple pieces of glass along the way.

I stop when Juliana shrinks back from me, a frightened noise leaving the back of her throat, eyes welling with tears.

"It's okay, Juliana." I say softly, reaching a hand out as if I was talking to a wild animal. "It's not a big deal. Accidents happen. It can be cleaned. Do you want to go sit at the table instead? While I get this glass out of here?" I ask and Juliana doesn't give me a reply, but she doesn't shrink further when I get closer, so I take that as a good sign.

She's tense when I pick her up this time, and I make sure to take her straight to the table, sitting her down as quickly as humanly possible.

I also grab her that cup, pouring some of the Gatorade I was previously drinking in there before handing it over to her. Some electrolytes may do her some good with all the crying she's done this past hour.

Elijah would kill me if we brought her home just to turn around and dehydrate her.

Juliana takes it, drinking away as I go fetch a towel and broom to go clean up the glass. I knew most of that water never made it in her mouth.

When I get back, Juliana is right how I left her. Drinking Gatorade from a Bluey sippy cup while sitting at the table in a completely soiled hoodie.

I cringe when I realise I'm going to have to find someone to help her change, because based on her recent behaviour I do not trust her to change without hurting herself. And I have absolutely no interest in seeing my little cousin's body.

I clean up the water, sweeping the glass into one big pile before discarding it in the bin. I grab a beer, because holy shit this child is stressing me the fuck out, and gulp down most of it before I turn to check on Juliana again.

There at the table lies Juliana's cup, on its side for some reason.

But no Juliana.

"Motherfucker, come on! I looked away for two damn seconds." I gripe, crouching down to look underneath the table, because realistically, how far could she have gone?

Of course, because the universe hates me, she's not there. I sigh, getting up and doing a once over of the kitchen. Both the door leading outside and the door leading to the living room are shut, and I think I would have heard them shutting.

None of the cabinets seem to have been tampered with, but I still open a few of the more spacious ones just in case.

We should really pay closer attention to the stuff in some of these cabinets, I mean, someone could poison you very easily with all the chemicals we have stored in here.

Maybe it's not the best idea to leave them at Justin and Juliana height. Or Jamie. That girl has a temper like nothing else and I wouldn't put it past her to slip some of this shit in the food when nobodies looking.

The one thing all the cabinets have in common, no Juliana.

"I need an adult." I complain as I leave the kitchen and make my way towards the stairs. Please, to whatever deity is listening, do not let them be having sex.

Juliana's POV

It's really pretty out here today.

I know ZeZe asked me not to move, but he's being boring. He's too busy with the floor when he should be playing with me.

So I left.

I went out the back door, cause that's where all the fun things are. At least, that's what I thought. But now I kinda don't wanna be out here. For one, my leg really hurts. And I only have one shoe on!

I thought that was really silly, so I tried to take it off, but I couldn't figure out how. This shoe really hurts though, I don't like it. Not to mention it's really big. It makes it hard to climb things. Like the stairs at the play-set. Currently, I'm stuck in a big pit.

It's got some really itchy squares in it. I struggle for a little bit, trying to pull myself back up onto the very tiny platform connected to the ceiling with a rope, but it's no use. Every time I try, my foot slips because of this silly shoe and then I just end up falling again.

Trying one final time, I pull myself with all of my might, using both my left arm and right leg. I'm almost there, I'm almost at a balancing point when my knee buckles. Yelping, I fall back, landing right shoulder first into the wall.

Fire.

It feels like there fire is racing its way down my arm and across my chest. I scream, clutching my shoulder tightly and curling into a ball, but the damage has already been done.

My mouth opens on a silent groan as I mouth the word, 'ow' over and over again. It's all I'm capable of doing right now.

Maybe that's why I don't notice shouting, or the light footsteps making their way up the stairs of the play-set.

What I do notice is the clicking of a gun. The sound of the safety being flipped. Turning, my eyes widen when I immediately lock sight of the barrel of a gun being pointed straight at my head.

——————————— Looks like Juliana's about to die.

Y'all I literally suck at schedules 😭 But hey, I'll take two weeks over an entire month any day.