Micah stared distastefully at his face in the mirror, then at Drake's. "I don't want to do this."

"Why?" Drake ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back with a thick layer of gel. "You're just nervous, it's fine."

"Nervous?" Micah crossed his arms, brushing a few strands of his own hair out of his face. His brow furrowed, the left refusing to move as the right did, giving his expression an odd effect. "Drake, do you really think anyone even wants me to go?"

Drake sighed, disgruntled, and washed the excess gel from his hands. "Hey, don't start this again—"

Micah turned back to his reflection, running his hand over his left eye, which had persisted to stay closed despite hopeful reassurances it was only temporary. The entire side of his face felt numb and useless. "Drake, I know they don't want me there. I don't even want me there."

"Micah," Drake grabbed his face by his chin and jerked him down, "just go to the fucking wedding with me."

Micah hit away his hand. "So, what, you don't have to crash it alone?"

"I'm not crashing anything, for your information. Artemis is my friend; he invited me."

"Well, he didn't invite me." Micah's lip curled slightly. "I don't have a reason to be there."

"You're my plus-one," Drake said cooly, lowering his voice to calm the conversation, "Narry didn't let Artemis invite you, but he can't do anything about it if I bring you with Artemis' permission." He checked the time on his watch dully, something to fill the silence, and sighed. "And we should probably get going soon."

Micah seemed to be stuck on something Drake had said, but he shook his head and agreed quietly, "Fine, then."
He ran his fingers over his tie and straightened it, distracted, as Drake put a hand in the crook of his arm and led him out the door.

Drake hailed a taxi cab at the street corner with his free hand, saying quietly to snap Micah out of his thoughts, "Why do you really not want to go?"

Micah scrunched his face. "I can think of plenty of things more fun than watching the guy who tried to kill me get married."

"He's marrying your brother, Micah." Drake leaned against his arm as the cab pulled to a stop in front of them, eyeing them warily. "Think of it as going to Artemis' wedding, not Narry's."

"Oh, sure, that makes it all better," Micah spat bitterly, pulling at the handle and stepping into the car's side door.

Drake stifled a laugh at the way Micah had to cram himself to fit in the back seat, his legs practically folded against his chest to his obvious distaste. "Comfortable?"

"I'd watch your mouth if you really want me to go with you," Micah groaned, bent over with his elbows on his knees. "I hate taxis, there's never any fucking leg room."

"That's not their fault, there isn't a car out there that would have enough leg room for you." Drake held up a hand defensively, showing the driver the address with his other. "But I let Ashley borrow the car for the day, so it's our only option if we're gonna get there even vaguely on time. She'll probably use it more than we will."

"Speaking of which," Micah gave a slight grin, "are you ever going to marry her?"

Drake laughed, awkward with the topic. "Well, that'd mean I'd have to propose, first."

"But are you going to?"

"Maybe." Drake's face had started to flush pink. "Why, are you jealous?"

"Jealous?" Micah laughed, propping his head in his hands. "What, I've been single a month and you already think I'm going to be all over you?"

Drake crossed his arms and said boldly, "Whether or not you're dating's never stopped you before."

"Drake," Micah looked suddenly offended, his expression falling, "it's different if you're the one in a relationship."

"Oh, is it? You're only willing to ruin a relationship if it's your own?"

Micah's face was reddening, from embarrassment or anger Drake couldn't tell. "That's enough."

Drake smoothed down his hair with his hand again, not wanting to push the conversation any further. "Your face looks a lot nicer," he said after a while, trying to change the subject, "better than it was before, at least."

Micah's expression remained unchanged. "Not really," he mumbled, "before I could at least use both my eyes."

Drake laughed, shaking his head. "Before you looked like a fuckin' comic book villain, man. You can't have everything. Though you could wear an eyepatch and look like some kind of feral pirate enthusiast, that'd be funny."

Micah looked less than amused. "I'll keep that in mind," he said dully.

"Hey, cheer up, Mic. We're going to a wedding, not a funeral." Drake nudged his arm, watching a small crowd of people out the window ahead of the car. "Try to look at least a little happy."

The cab pulled to a stop a little ways from the crowd and Drake stepped out first, half-leading half-dragging Micah behind him. Artemis was a clear shot in front of them, too distracted with talking to the other guests to even notice their arrival. Narry leaned heavily on his arm, clung to him like didn't want him to walk out of his sight. Micah stepped back uneasily. "We still have a chance to leave before they know we're here—"

But Artemis had already glanced over, already seen them. A dumb smile made its way onto his face. He mumbled something to Narry and he released his arm, though he looked suddenly upset with the development. Artemis rushed over to where they stood and shook Drake's hand in a kind of formal greeting, his speech incomprehensible but well-natured, then he turned and dragged Micah into a tight hug.

Micah tensed, startled, but put a hand on Artemis' shoulder in return. "Artemis," he said after a moment had passed, "you can let go now."

"Sorry." Artemis pulled back, his face starting to flush, and fumbled with his crumpled collar. Micah swatted his hands and fixed his clothes for him, mumbling about how obvious it was he'd never worn a suit in his life. Artemis glanced at him admiringly. "This is really uncomfortable to wear," he admitted, "how do you do it everyday?"

Micah raised an eyebrow at him. "I tend to appreciate clothes that actually fit me."

Artemis laughed, hoping that was the appropriate response, and shook his head. "Narry isn't going to be happy you're here, that's for sure. But don't worry about him, he'll get over it. I wanted you here, and he wouldn't argue with me on today, of all days."

Micah paused a second, considering what he'd said, then smiled at him slightly. "Thanks, Missy."

Artemis beamed, but was quickly dragged off into another conversation with the other guests, Narry returning to his side after a while. Micah touched Drake's shoulder lightly, glancing intently at the groups crowding outside the venue. "I suppose we're meant to talk to other people as well?"

Drake shoved his elbow into Micah's forearm, staring off just behind him. "I don't think you have to worry about that," he said with a smirk.

Micah turned and followed his gaze, the wind nearly knocked out of him by the sudden force of a woman hugging him almost to the point of pain before he'd even noticed her. He didn't even need to see her face to recognize who it'd been. He put a hand on her shoulder without thinking and smiled. "Hey, mom."

She pressed her face against the fabric of his jacket, refusing to loosen her hold on him. "Micah," she said softly, as if she doubted the words as they came, "Micah, I haven't seen you in forever—"

"I know, I know," he sighed, awkwardly placing his other hand on the side of her face, the closest he could get to returning her affection without stooping over. Drake had started off towards the other groups, not wanting to ruin the interaction, and Micah shook his head as he watched him walk away. "I'm sorry. Things just got in the way."

His mother pulled back a little. "Like what? What happened to you?" She reached a hand to his face, barely able to grace the side of his cheek with her fingers.

Micah knelt down in front of her, avoiding her gaze as she glanced over the deep gashes in his face. He looked past her at Narry, realizing she'd never been told what he'd done. He thought it best if now wasn't the day she found out, of all days. "I don't want you to worry," he said softly and leaned into her hand, "especially not about me."

"Mic." She seemed unsure what to say, or how to react in general. "Are...you okay?"

Micah stared at the ground, his mother's worry obvious on her face. He suddenly felt guilty for avoiding her for so long. "I'm fine, you're not here to fret over me. Why don't you and I both just try and enjoy today, alright?" He stood and held out his hand for her to take, letting her lead him towards the other guests from their half of the family.

Everyone seemed just as worried to see him as she had been, he thought. He was flooded with questions of how he'd been, where he'd been, and, more often than anything else, what had happened to him. He'd answer anything but the last. He wasn't about to let it fall on him to ruin his brother's wedding, despite how satisfying he thought it'd be to watch Narry throw a fit when people started asking him about it.

Drake rejoined them again after a while, seemingly bored with wandering alone. "Name's Drake," he introduced himself politely, holding out a hand, "and from what I understand, you're Mic's mom, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm, uh, I'm Elle." She took his hand awkwardly, glancing back at Micah with a skeptical look. "Did you bring him?"

"Other way around," Micah admitted, pulling at his tie, "I wasn't exactly...invited."

His mother stared at him strangely. "Why not?"

Micah wondered for a moment if he could get away with a half-truth. "Artemis and I don't really talk that much anymore, he probably thought I wouldn't want to come."

"Hm," she pressed her lips together, as if considering his response, "I'll ask him about it."

"Don't bother," Micah said too fast, stopping himself from saying more than he meant to, "I mean, I can talk to him myself."

Drake snorted from his side but didn't add his input, instead motioning with his elbow. "Speak of the devil."

Micah had barely turned before he grabbed Artemis' arm and pulled him to the side with a soft, "Can we talk?" He smiled at his mother over his shoulder, trying not to let the steel hold he had on Artemis' wrist give him away.

Artemis looked bewildered at him, taken off guard. "What's this about?"

"You can't tell mom anything about Mal and I, okay? If she asks, you just thought I didn't want to come and didn't invite me for that reason only." Micah let go of his arm, realizing he was probably a few seconds from hurting him, stress tightening his grip. "And as far as anyone else is concerned, you don't know what happened to my face."

Artemis blinked. "Is this about you or him?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is this you trying to preserve your own reputation so you don't look like a total asshole and disappoint her," Artemis said slowly, "or is this about making sure you don't make Narry look bad on his wedding day?"

Micah frowned, as if he didn't know the answer either. "I suppose it's both."

"That's considerate of you." Artemis smiled dumbly. "And to think, Narry didn't want you here because he thought you'd do the exact opposite."

Micah gave a stiff laugh. "Fair enough."

Artemis started to say something else, but Narry tugged at his jacket from behind, causing him to whip around, startled. "People can start going inside if they don't want to just stand around, if you wanna start telling them that. It's supposed to rain later," Narry murmured, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves and not looking away from Artemis.

Micah thought it was likely he purposely pretended not to acknowledge him. "Mal—"

"Narry," he corrected, barely glancing at him.

"Right, whatever." Micah put a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way Narry stared at him the same way Micah imagined he'd look if it had been a dead fish rather than his hand. "But can you at least pretend to tolerate me? Just for one day?"

Narry shot a doubtful glance to Artemis. "I'll try my best," he said flatly, brushing off Micah's hold on his shoulder.

Artemis flashed a comforting smile to Micah before letting Narry drag him the other way, as if to let him know he'd be there to keep Narry in check.

Micah shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, already regretting agreeing to come. His mother came up behind him and laughed sympathetically, "Must be awkward to be at your ex-boss' wedding, huh?"

Drake almost choked on his laugh. "You don't know the half of it."