Triplets

013

RYAN'S POV

The next day, after the boys had all gone back to their respective houses, I was walking through the hallway to my room, which was at the very end because for whatever reason they decided to put their doors in age orders, when I heard quieted sobs coming from one of the doors I was walking by. When I looked, it was Marco's.

I barge in without knocking, thank my mother instincts for that one, and walk in to see my older brother sitting against one of his walls with shaky hands pressed against his mouth and he tries his best to silence the violent sobs racking through his body.

I close the door behind me and lock it so that nobody else comes in before rushing to sit in front of him. I make sure not to touch him, in case it was a panic attack.

"Marco, hey fratello." I get his attention as his blood shot eyes meet mine. "Hey. Is it okay if I hug you?" When I get a small nod in response, I engulf him in a hug, and he leans into me.

(Brother)

Never touch someone who may be having a panic attack because you might make it worse. When you are a state of distress as large as that, you tend to not notice someone coming near you and the unknown touch could stress you out more.

When Marco finally calms down enough so that he stopped hyperventilating, I give him my bottle of water I was carrying with me to my room so he could take a drink of water. His hands are still aggressively shaking, but at least he won't faint from lack of oxygen.

I wait for him to say the first thing. Let him decide if he wants to speak about it. I didn't, however, fail to notice the small knife he was clutching tightly in his hand before I came in here.

"You can speak Italian?" His voice is rough and scratchy, but his question causes me to pause. I realized as I was trying to calm him, I called him brother in Italian.

I nod my head. "Yeah."

"You didn't tell anyone though. We all speak Italian."

"Yeah, I know that. In the beginning, I wasn't sure if my- our- younger brothers would be safe here, so I thought if I could understand a language, you all talked in rather frequently in, I could get us out if it wasn't safe." I told him the half-truth...

"Do you still wonder if it is safe or not?" My older brother questions.

"No." I am surprised by how quickly I answer the question. "I am not worried about you guys hurting us. You are all good people, no matter what you have as a side job."

His head whips around in my direction so fast he for sure got whiplash, and maybe a headache. He looks at me suspiciously. "How much do you know about out 'side job'?"

I shoot him a mischievous smile. "Enough." My answer is simple and curt. I quickly move the subject away from this. "When was the last time you slept. And I mean you actually slept." I was obviously referring to the bags under his eyes.

"Dunno."

I stare at him for a moments before standing up and holding out a hand to him. He is confused but takes my hand anyway. "Okay get changed into pajamas. I will be right back in my own pajamas."

"Wait, what?"

I turn to look at him and pin him down with a strict stare. "We are having a sleepover, and you are going to sleep."

He squints at me but finally relents. "Okay, but only if you sleep too."

We shake on it and I quickly go to my room to put on a pair of sweatpants I probably stole from Rudy and a very baggy black t-shirt I probably also stole from Rudy. I grab a pair of fuzzy socks and put those on as well before I leave my room.