TRIGGER WARNING: ED BEHAVIORS, ALLUSIONS TO EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE

No one ever brought the "adventure" incident up again. I wasn't sure why.

They're probably trying to let you stew in your anxiety, huh?

The morning after the accident, Gio had woken me up and (finally) removed the bandages on my palms and knees. He eyed the reopened crescent-shaped scars on my palms but said nothing. A miniscule amount of tension left my shoulders.

That was Sunday. It was Wednesday night now, and I was hunched over the toilet bowl in my bathroom, heaving up the meal we had just eaten. Tears dripped down my cheeks as small, broken sobs wracked my body.

I hated throwing up. That's why I tried to throw away my food whenever possible, but I didn't have the chance tonight. Everyone was home tonight, so we all ate dinner together in the dining room, meaning I couldn't get up and get rid of food, and there was no trash bin nearby.

So here I was, stomach churning as I rested against the toilet bowl, sniffling as my hands shook.

A whimper slipped from my lips as I dragged myself up, washing my hands and brushing my teeth over and over before dragging myself into bed and burying my face in Hobbes' fur, ignoring the cold sweat on my forehead.

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Alessio slowly made his way upstairs, quietly, listening for any sounds from his younger brother. Not that there ever were any, anyway. He thought he'd try.

He slowly, gently, opened the door to his baby brother's room, taking note of the bright lights on, despite Luca's definitely-asleep form on the bed. Alessio slowly made his way through the room, closing the blinds and the closet door, and shutting off the bright lights (don't worry, he left low lights on, all the boys were made aware of Luca's aversion to the darkness as soon as it became apparent).

Then, quietly, he made his way over to the bed and gently perched beside Luca's sleeping form. He brushed a gentle hand across the boy's head, doing a double-take when it came back cold and damp with sweat. His brow furrowed as he examined Luca's pale face, mouth tipping into a frown.

Alessio made a mental note to talk to Mass or Gio about Luca's ill demeanor, kissed the top of Luca's head, and left the room.

And later that night, when Alessio and Alonzo fell asleep on the couch after playing too many video games, that mental note drifted away like a boat at sea.

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While the twins slept (in seemingly very uncomfortable positions) on the game room couch downstairs, Marco was awake. As a long-time insomniac, it was pretty much the norm.

Some nights, he did sleep. The quality was always lacking, but he did sleep. Tonight was not one of those nights. Too much to think about. Like how badly was Luca abused to act like this around his own brothers?

Those questions, however, were too complicated for two in the morning. So, he either settled for sketching or reading. Sketching was preferred, but reading was a good second.

Whilst deeply immersed in creating his next tattoo—a set of six small animals, each a different species, for each Accardi brother—Marco almost didn't pick up the quiet sound of his bedroom door opening.

The cogs were turning instantly, in only a matter of seconds. Massimo doesn't knock, but he doesn't come in quietly. Giovanni knocks and always waits for a response. Alessio—who was he kidding, he would know if it was Alessio. Alonzo doesn't come into his room. Which leaves...

His head snapped up and instantly made eye contact with the small, teary-eyed boy standing in the doorway, stuffed tiger tucked in the crook of his arm (was it Harvey? Or Howard?).

Marco's brow furrowed as he noticed the boy's shaky hands and the tear tracks on his cheeks. The boy sniffled once, twice, before a dejected, slightly strangled sob slipped from his lips, and his quiet expression crumbled, shoulders dropping.

Marco was up in an instant, sketching utensils discarded instantly as he strode across the room and dropped to his knees in front of the boy.

Lifting his calloused hands, he gently cupped the boy's cheeks, wiping away the tears that fell. He took one hand away from the boy's cheek and instead brought it to the back of his head, bringing Luca's pliant form into his own, hulking figure. He tucked the small boy's head into the crook of his neck, and, without missing a beat, swept the boy into his arms, gently swaying around the room.

Once Luca's soft sobs had slowed to gentle hiccups and sniffles, and then to soft puffs of breath, Marco began cleaning his sketching supplies off of the bed, dusting any eraser shavings or lead dust from the blankets.

"Wha...'s it?" a small voice whispered. Marco glanced down into a pair of hazy, droopy, red-rimmed eyes as his baby brother pointed a finger at the open page of his sketchbook, the beginnings of his newest tattoo idea.

"Animals, bambino. One for each of us. You, me, and our other brothers," Marco rumbled back, keeping his voice low and soothing. The boy's expression softened as curiosity piqued.

"Whose is whose?" he whispered, tilting his head to get a better look.

"Well, you're the monkey, monkey," Marco spoke lightly, brushing a loose strand of hair from his brother's face. "The lion is Mass, the elephant is Gio, the stallion is Lonzo, the hyena is Sio, and I'm the wolf."

Luca's expression morphed to one of contentment, "'S really pretty," he whispered, a soft smile on his lips. Marco offered a gentle twitch of his lips in return, watching the young boy's eyes droop again.

"Thank you, baby. Now, you need to rest. It's okay. Let your mind go, monkey," Marco's voice became increasingly low and soft, encouraging the boy's eyes to slip shut as he began to relax against the older boy's chest, breathing evening out—for real, this time.

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When I awoke the next morning, I became disoriented for a few moments. Where am I? I rolled over, glancing at the unfamiliar-looking clock on the night table. 7:12 am? I hadn't slept that late in a long time.

Finally able to lift the sleep-filled haze, I sat up and looked around, taking note of Marco's rumpled bedsheets and, with that, his absence. Faintly in the background, however, I heard the soft patter of the shower.

In the meantime, I took a long look around the room. It was dark—and not just the low morning light. With a dark grey wall tone, dark wood bed frame, and navy blue sheets, Marco's room seemed to only emphasize his cold demeanor.

The only difference? The drawings. They. Were. Everywhere. They covered the walls, taped and scattered haphazardly onto any open surface. Not only were they everywhere, but they were also incredible.

I felt my jaw loosen as I took in the variety of sketched images spread about the room, from detailed feline predators to bones to—is that me?

I slowly stood up, making sure Hobbes stayed with me, and made my way over to Marco's large desk, eyeing the sketch that had initially caught my eye.

A teenage boy, probably around 15 years old, was holding up a much younger infant in his arms, stretched up to the sky. The baby's face was stretched into a wide smile, as was the teen's as he seemed to spin the baby in circles, even frozen in a snapshot.

This is me and Marco. There wasn't a doubt in my mind. I could feel it, and I chewed on my thumbnail as I stared longingly at the drawing. I wanted to pick it up, so badly, but I didn't have permission. My hands itched to reach out and grab it, to cherish it, but it wasn't mine.

"Luca," a deep, gruff voice interrupted my conflict, and I spun around as if caught stealing something. Marco stood in the doorway to the bathroom, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, his short hair still damp as he toweled it off.

As if sensing my internal battle (they're all mind readers, I swear) he tilted his head gently towards the desk, "You can grab it if you want, monkey," He spoke softly, tossing the towel aside as he padded across the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to me.

Hesitantly, I reached for the sketch, lifting it off the desk carefully as I examined it.

"'S really not my best work, but the memory just came to me and—" I cut off Marco's hesitant mumbling when I gently set the paper aside and threw myself into his arms, climbing onto his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.

I felt his shoulders drop, and, hesitantly, his muscular arms wrapped gently around my back, pulling him close to my chest. This time, I let myself hurt, the tears rolling gently down my cheeks before they landed on Marco's bare shoulder.

My lower lip trembled as the pain crashed over me in waves. Marco gently sat me back and stared into my teary, vulnerable gaze, his looking eerily similar.

"J-jus... m-m-missed y-you g-g-g-guys," I whisper-stammered, my voice wavering as tears fell down my cheeks. I took a breath before continuing, "I m-mean I d-d-didn't r-r-really r-remem-ember it b-but I'd h-have these d-d-dreams an' you g-g-guys were there and it f-f-felt so f-familiar," I cried, hiccuping as he pulled me back into his warm chest, gently shushing me.

"I know, baby. I know. I missed you so much. We all did. We thought about you every day, we all love you so much," He murmured, gently carding his fingers through my hair.

The tears finally slowed and I sat up on his lap, wiping my teary face with the back of my hand, before Marco interrupted me and gently lifted his shirt (that still isn't on, by the way. I don't get it) to wipe the tears from my reddened cheeks.

"C-could... c-c-c-could... c-could... y-y-y..." I trailed off with a huff as I struggled to find my words. I warped my small arms around my tummy and dropped my head to my chest.

"Hey, hey, fratellino. None of that," Mar murmured as he gently lifted my chin. "You are doing so well. I am so proud of you for talking so much. I don't want any of this giving-up attitude, hm? Not in the Accardi house, sì?" He quirked an eyebrow and I nodded, taking a breath.

"C-could you... p-p-please k-keep... d-d-drawing us?" I whispered, nervously fidgeting with Hobbes in my lap. "I-I m-mean, o-only if you h-have t-t-time, b-but it w-would j-just b-b-be n-nice—"

"Of course, monkey. I don't think I'll ever stop drawing you," Marco interrupted me, chuckling as he reached behind me to open a drawer of his desk, revealing piles of drawings, all of... me?

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AHH I LLLLOOOOVEEEE SOFT MARCOOOOO

EEK (deep breath)

ALSO OMG YOU GUYS I know I don't respond to every comment but I want y'all to know that I read EVERY SINGLE ONE and the stuff you guys say genuinely makes me CACKLE. I just burst out laughing in my bedroom and my sister thinks I'm crazy (dw I am).

ALSO THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT SO LISTEN UP (proceeds to watch you all line up like lemmings):

I HAVE RECEIVED MANY REQUESTS TO KEEP FINN IN THIS VERSION AS HE WAS INITIALLY OMITTED FROM MY REFURBISHED CHARACTER LIST.

I have two options for this since I too very much enjoyed Finn's character

(1) I make one of the two boys I kept (Louis or Diego) deaf and I re-incorporate Finn's character into one of them since we didn't (really) get to them in the old version and that way Finn's character (now Louis or Diego) will still have his own older brothers to interact with (easier for me🤗)

(2) I keep Finn as his own solo child in his own character and we just don't get the experience of his older brothers (they effectively don't exist in this version and he is just a random school friend Luca makes who comes over on occasion and is deaf.

I NEED A VERDICT SO PLEASE ENLIGHTEN ME

LOTS OF LOVE

Rosie :)