Everybody always asked him constantly how he was doing, and he would tell them. Michael was fine. He wasn't struggling. So what if he took some pills from time to time? They helped his mind slow down enough for him to feel okay again. Nothing wrong with that. He would ignore the addiction he felt creeping on the edges of his conscious.

He loved his family. He was a family man. But God, they stressed him out to high heaven. Particularly Lee. Didn't like that bastard and he never would. He was always bitching about something or other, always making it about his goddamn problems.

He tried. He really tried. He was bringing you home to his family for the first time. He'd wanted everything to be perfect. You were the light of his miserable, dark-ass life. The Honey to his Bear.

But when he lost it... when he threw the fork, everything went to hell. Everyone was yelling and shouting. What made his heart drop was your scream. He turned just in time and saw you duck to the side as Donna drove her car through the wall inches from where you'd been standing just moments before.

It took a long time for Michael to calm Donna down. When he did, he searched the house for you and found you sitting on his bed. "Honey. Oh, honey, I was looking for you." He sat on his knees, holding your face. "You okay? You hurt?" He murmured, big brown eyes that you loved so much focused on you.