Misha was woken up by a stuffy feeling. He frowned and grudgingly opened his eyes, patting whatever was holding onto him. Gosh, he could barely breathe.
"Gabriel…?"
Eh? That silhouette was too small to belong to Gabriel, wasn't it? Confused, Misha lifted the blanket, and a frown creased his brow once he realized that a certain kid had snuck into his bed.
What was Tristan doing here, and where was Gabriel?
Craning his neck, Misha finally caught sight of two figures on the balcony. The dim lights barely illuminated them, and all Misha could see was their backs and the steam hovering in the air as they talked. Winter had already fallen upon them, and it was cold outside. So, what were these two doing there?
Gently, Misha tried to pry himself away from the boy, but to no avail. Tristan refused to let go, grunting and whining in his sleep.
…Fine, whatever.
Twisting his waist around, Misha stretched a hand to grab his phone instead. If he couldn't get to them, he'd get them to come to him, or so that was the plan.
The moment he opened his phone, he noticed the atrocious number of notifications. There were innumerable missed calls from both his mother and his father, and even a few from Dereck and Stephan. What the hell was going on?
It wasn't like it was the first time he slept over at someone else's house, no need to make a fuss. He pursed his lips.
He didn't feel like answering either his mother or his father.
Yet, when another message popped up, his resolve crumbled.
"What the…?"
Something was amiss, and Misha swept the message open to read it in its entirety. The moment he did, he felt his heart leap into his throat, and he instinctively passed an arm around Tristan, hugging him close.
'It's alright, the three of them are with me, they're not dead.'
Despite knowing it, Misha couldn't help but stare at Gabriel and Jake on the balcony with doubts and worry. They were truly there, right? They weren't a figment of his imagination, right…?
"Misha?" Tristan drowsily called. "Are you alright?"
"Y-yeah." Misha gulped, shifting his attention from his phone to the boy. "Y-your house…"
"Oh, is it burning?" The child pinched his lips, his gaze darkening as he added in a barely audible voice, "That jerk really resorted to arson, huh?"
"Tristan, what's going on?!"
The boy lowered his head, avoiding Misha's eyes. But under his insistent gaze, he couldn't keep his mouth shut for long.
"Pierrot got the order to get rid of Matthew and Angela."
"WHAT?!"
"Shh! You'll wake Vanessa up!"
"Holy fuck," Misha cursed under his breath. "I've got to call my parents, they're worried sick. Oh my God, no wonder I received so many calls. Shit, I shouldn't have put it on silent mode…!"
"They know about it, already?"
"Of course, they know! It's making the late night news!"
A wealthy family's house burning down? With the whereabouts of the said family unknown? Of course, everyone was talking about it, and it was trending online! The firefighters had only found burned corpses and no survivors as of yet, so the speculations were running wild, and his parents had no idea where he and his sister had slept over tonight.
They might be in the middle of a fight, but it didn't mean they never wanted to see their children again. In fact, his mother had seemed devastated when they left.
It didn't seem like they had managed to contact Masha, either. She had most likely turned her phone off, too. Knowing her, she was already asleep, cuddled with Yuki.
Besides, Gabriel had put his phone on silent mode, too, so the notifications wouldn't bother Misha's sleep—interns, who had the night shift, often sent messages over to Gabriel, asking a thousand questions that would only be answered the next morning.
Right now, neither Gulnas nor Alexis knew where their children were, and they could very well be among these burned corpses. No matter how angry Misha was at his parents, he wasn't cruel enough to let them despair with the thought of having lost their kids, all because of a fight.
His pettiness had its limits.
Pushing the nervousness aside, Misha called his father. Usually, he'd have called his mother, but he wasn't sure if he could handle hearing her voice tonight.
"MISHA?!"
His father had never answered the phone as fast, and had never sounded as panicked, either.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Thank God, you're alright. Your sister! Is your sister with you…?"
"No, but she's sleeping over at her girlfriend's place," Misha spoke as calmly as he could. "She's fine, don't worry."
"And Gabriel, did he, did he…"
Alexey was unable to finish the sentence, and Msiha felt his chest tighten. His father was aware of his relationship with the man and knew him well; he even seemed to be a bit fond of the guy. In fact, his parents had practically adopted the Laflamme brothers over the years, even Jake with his annoying persona. Now, Alexey was worried something had happened to Gabriel and couldn't bring himself to bring up his brothers. In all likelihood, Tristan and Jake had died.
These two had no reason not to be home.
"He's on the balcony with Jake, talking about who knows what. Tristan is with me, too."
"Huh…?"
"Is something the matter?" the boy timely asked. Because he was still hugging Misha, his face was close to the phone, and his voice was heard over on Alexey's side. "Are you talking to your dad?"
Tristan's ability to switch gears always impressed Misha. The kid was as good a liar as his brothers were. The inflexion of his voice carried just the right amount of anxiety and curiosity, making him appear seemingly unaware of what was going on. Even though it was all the contrary, for the boy knew of the fire even before it began.
And he certainly had a hunch of the current death toll.
It was better not to think about it, though.
"Something seems to have happened at your house," Misha awkwardly answered back. He was now able to spout out simple lies, but it still wasn't exactly his forte. "I don't know the details, though…"
On the other side of the phone, Alexey didn't seem to listen to him anymore. Instead, Misha heard him repeat again and again in a trembling voice: "They're all alright… They're all alright! Oh, thank God, they're all alright."
In the background, he could hear his mother sobbing. She was crying out of relief, and maybe disbelief. It must have sounded like a miracle to them that the five of them were safe.
It felt strange, oh so very strange.
In his first life, his father wouldn't have batted an eye if he had died; now, however…
Conflicted feelings arose in the pit of his stomach. When exactly would he make peace with his father's ghost?
"Is something wrong?"
Gabriel's voice snapped Misha out of his thoughts. The serene green eyes behind the foggy glasses let Misha know that he had been made aware of the situation at hand, and Jake nodded at him, closing the balcony door behind him. A cold breeze still managed to slip in beforehand.
At some point, Misha had forgotten how cold-hearted the Laflamme brothers could get toward those they did not hold dear. Although admittedly, Matthew and Angela had it coming.
The only pitiful souls were the clueless staff members.
"I'm not sure," Misha smiled weakly, doing his best to play the part, as his father was still on the other side of the phone. "Do you want to take the call?"
So, it was better to pass the baton to his partner and let him do the lying. With that in mind, Misha handed his phone over to Gabriel, who went to seclude himself in the bathroom to talk in private for his little brother's sake.
Once he was out of earshot, Misha looked at Jake, disbelief written all over his face.
"What the fuck happened?!"
"Pierrot popped up on our doorsteps," Jake flatly said. "He was kind enough to warn us to get out. The story is that Tristan had a nightmare because of today's trial and wanted to see you asap. Try to play along."
"…I'll try," Misha nodded, still a bit confused. "Also, did you call Stephan? He's been bombarding my phone with calls and text messages."
Jake averted his eyes.
"Right, I should call him."
"You haven't?!" Misha choked on his own spit. "He must be worried sick by now. Call him already!"
"Fine, fine!" Jake waved away his concerns. "I'll go take the call in the corridor. Tsk, this is going to take forever…"
For a moment there, Misha pitied Stephan. He had yet to become Jake's priority and was still at the bottom. But the pity only lasted for a second before he tossed it to the back of his mind and concentrated on Tristan instead. The child was higher in his priorities than Stephan.
"…Are you alright?"
A silly question, but nothing else came to his mind.
"Yes, of course," Tristan offered a gentle smile. "I don't consider Angela and Matthew to be my parents, don't worry. I know perfectly well what they've done, and what they could have done. They brought hell to my brother, and it's something I can't forgive."
"Still…"
"Misha," the boy interrupted him, snuggling against his chest a little more. "I'm fine, truly. My family consists of my brothers, you, and Masha. Your parents, too, are dear to me."
The child spoke with more confidence than many adults Misha knew of. But he was also aware of the Laflamme brothers' tendency to lie and say they were alright when they weren't. The thing was: pushing the matter further would yield no results. In the end, all Misha could do was pull the blanket over their shoulders again and nudge the boy to go back to sleep.
They would need all the energy possible for tomorrow, although he doubted he could fall back asleep. It wasn't a problem for Tristan, however—the boy was already snoring softly, well-nestled against his chest.
"Sleep well." Misha closed his eyes. "And hopefully, no memories will come to you tonight."
He knew it was a vain hope, but he couldn't help it.