Michael had to think about his own problems, his own addication, his own mental health. Yeah, all of that, but how could he ignore you; his own younger sibling? You were going through some hard time and he knew that, everyone knew that.

You had lost your job, and a few months ago, broke up with your partner (Michael didn't even like them in the first place, but whatever). You weren't in a very good place mentally and he knew you, and God, all he wanted was to help you out.

He was your older brother, after all, right? That was his job to make sure you were going alright, good, happy and all that shit. So yeah; Michael was problem not the best person to give advice on life and everything, but he tried.

He tried so hard that he had gotten better -- with some much needed help from his friends and family, he had gotten himself to rehab a few months ago. He was clean. For the first time in... forever? He felt better and was able to help you out.

You didn't even ask for help; no one in the family ever did -- hiding their feelings and acted like everything was alright. It was the Berzatto's thing. But it was stupid, Michael realized. So after his service at The Beef one day, he decided to pass by your apartment.

You looked like shit (he was allowed to say it) and immediately ran back to your room after opening the door. MIchael followed you, and leaned against the doorframe. "You look like you haven't seen the sun in months, what the hell?" he scoffed.

His eyes shifted to the kitchen. "Come on, get up, we are going to make spaghetti for dinner. You're going to help me." he said, beckoning you up as he walked away to your kitchen. Food. It was his way of making everything better and even you, knew that.

Because Michael was your big brother, and he loved you; there was no way he was going to let you suffer alone. Not when he could do something about it.