Michael Isn't Insane

 Not exactly the last thing but definitely something Cordelia didn't expect to find at 2:47am was her brother sitting outside Podrick's room, letting out sharp short breaths and whimpering in the dark. It looked like Michael had started to head towards Pod's room, but stopped short for some reason, shoved up against the wall with his head buried behind his drawn up knees.

Cordelia stepped out into the hall, leaving her own door open an inch. She crept slowly over to her brother and slid down with her back to the surprisingly warm wall. "Hey, Michael. What're you doing?" Simple questions gain simple answers. Complicated questions gain nothing helpful.

He raised his head in a haze. His eyes were as dark-lidded as the deficient bags under his eyes. His whole face was flushed red and she swept the loose hair out of the way, making him blink as if just noticing she was there. "Ah, I was just...going to check on Podrick. He was malfunctioning, I heard."

Cordelia stared unimpressed, looking back pointedly between him and the silent bedroom door, where the cyborg was mostly likely on rest mode if he couldn't hear Michael's teeth chattering right outside his door. "Malfunctioning, huh? If you wanted to go see your boyfriend in the middle of the night, I don't care-"

"No, no I-" He blinked rapidly, his eyes starting to glaze back over. Cordelia swayed him a bit until he focused back on her. "I was going to ask him something...before bed. Before we all went to sleep...You said it was the middle of the night?"

"That's right. Michael, how long have you been out here?" Keep saying their name. Remind who they are. She didn't know if the tactics used on her would work on him, but no hurt in trying, right?

"I'm, not sure. I can't remember again." He sucked in a breath and swallowed. "What do you think that means, Cookie?" He looked her head-on, but he still appeared exhausted and sounded even worse, his words wobbling as they came out and falling just short of convincing.

She put her arm around him and tugged her big brother closer to her. "Well, we can go see the Doc again. Get you some of the antipsychotics he gave me-"

"I'm not insane," Michael whined.

"Of course you're not. It'll be okay," Cordelia assured him quietly but still with maintained cheerfulness. "You have Podrick and me here with you. And those wierd friends of yours, and we all know how you are."

"They're my friends?"

Geez, how out of it is he? Even his voice didn't sound like it was a product of his own mind. She ruffled his hair, messing up the already unruly curls. "Yes they are! Very odd friends, but I guess I can't judge too much." She chuckled, hope unfurling when Michael did the same.

"My friends..."he trailed off and his voice dipped down. "They think I'm insane." He clenched his hands into shaking fists, resting them on his knees. "I'm not insane."

Cordelia tilted her head, surprised. Was that...sadness? She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Michael sad. Angry, yes. Shaken up, only a few times but still yes. Even what he determined to be sympathy. But sadness meant void of content, something that was constant in him from her point of view.

"You probably just have the same problem as me," she said simply. "The Doc can evaluate you and create something-"

"I'M NOT INSANE!"

"Shhh, shhh..." Cordelia pulled his head onto her shoulder, kneading his arm lightly. She could feel his chilled skin through the thin material of his shirt. "You're not insane, you just need help."

"Help?" He choked out, voice so small and quiet she had to strain her ears to hear him.

She smiled and knocked her head against his. "That's right, help."

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