It's been a moment, hasn't it! I'll try to decide the distinct stopping point for this story soon, but I don't want it to seem like it was just tossed aside. I'm not done yet! (That's a threat, lol)

In the eyes of the general public, it looked like a boy, around 15, stumbling in, bloody and screaming, begging for help. He told them he'd been attacked by a mugger on the street and that he didn't know what to do.

Coming from a boy who had faked happiness all his life, it was his best performance yet. While he drew the attention and sympathy from onlookers, his older brothers began to shoplift necessities. Octavian and Luke had hated this plan. They didn't want Caesar hurting himself for their sakes', but he had explained several times that he could heal himself and that it really was no big deal. Eventually, they agreed. However, they made Caesar agree to get plenty of rest and food after every performance, even though he knew that it meant Luke and Octavian would be skimping on both themselves to provide.

He'd never had anyone legitimately concerned about providing for him before. Being provided for was something he overlooked in his day to day life with his parents. Now he appreciated and thought about every sacrifice his brothers made for him. It was still sad. He didn't want his family to have to suffer to take care of him. He wondered if things really were easier with him around. Maybe they weren't, and sometimes, he regretted coming. He regretted his big brothers having to fuss over him. He tried to tell them they didn't have to, but they were just as insistent about fussing as he was about doing his performance.

They were all a bit sulky around the campfire that night.

"Are you cold?" Octavian asked.

"No," Caesar grumbled.

"Hungry?" Luke inquired.

"You guys don't need to tag team smother me."

"We aren't smothering you." Luke and Octavian said in unison.

"And that wasn't creepy at all."

"No fair. We're your big brothers. We are allowed to be concerned."

"But you're overdoing it." He muttered.

"We have to, no one else is going to We look out for each other. You look out for us and we look out for you. That's how this works, and grumbling about it will do nothing." Luke said with determination, leaving Caesar momentarily speechless.

"Yeah." He finally said, unable to think of more to say. As usual, Luke was right about this. Because Luke had a stake in this. He knew how families went. His own, his first, had crumbled. His second hadn't stood a chance to his ego, but this one, this one he would get right. This one he wouldn't fail.

"We're just taking care of you Caesar. That's going to keep happening. Even if you don't get it now, you just have to know that we will take care of you. This family is real." Caesar nodded and looked into the fire. After living in the shadow of Steve and Victoria his whole life, he sometimes still doubted that family was real. So the care his brothers had for him was sometimes unsettling and overpowering. He closed his eyes and let sleep come over him, and before he woke he was wrapped up in his brother's jackets and blankets, literally smothered by their protection. He pushed the extra garments off with a grunt. They had been supposed to wake him up for his watch. They were supposed to let him participate! He knew they cared, gods, he knew they cared, but he cared too.

He cared too! His caring was supposed to matter to them! He was supposed to also be allowed to be concerned! They were supposed to take care of each other, as a two-way street! And now he was angry.

"Wake me up next time!" He snapped at them, seeing his brothers both awake, getting together the little food they could scrounge for breakfast.

"Sorry, you used a lot of energy healing yourself, we thought it would be best if we let you sleep," Octavian said apologetically, reaching out to brush the hair from Caesar's stormy blue eyes. He and Caesar shared that, the way their eyes looked like lightning storms when they were angry.

"I'm part of this family too, let me contribute!" He nearly screamed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Octavian and Luke shared a legitimately surprised glance.

"We're sorry that we didn't include you in last night's watch. We'll be more mindful next time." Luke spoke with a "this is the end of that," tone of voice. Caesar was still spitting mad though, because no one had ever let him be mad before, and he was reveling in it. It felt so good to be mad. He and Luke had a momentary stare-off, Caesar feeling the power in his stormy eyes. But Luke had more experience, more power. He shut Caesar down, and Cesar shuddered a little. Luke was caring and brotherly but Caesar was beginning to realize that he was with people who had also done bad things. His anger, though it had been bottled up for a long time, and his breakdowns had nothing on theirs. That's why they were in control. Not just because they were older or more caring, but because they were just a little bit more wicked than he was. They had fought for their spot in this family. They had earned it. Caesar backed down because he couldn't hold a candle to the subdued rage behind Luke's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, redistributing their jackets and calming himself down. Luke smiled, and the anger in his eyes disappeared. It was still there, though. It was still behind his eyes, still waiting. But right now, Luke was crushing Caesar in a hug, and it was like there had never been any hurt or anger there at all.