Trevor didn't think much of the De Santa's choice in furnishing, nor decor. It all seemed a little too overdone for his tastes, too flashy and elegant. Tacky; concealing a visible fakeness that practically emanated from the walls. Sort of like Michael, which made complete sense. Michael was, by nature, a ridiculously tacky man, who had married a tacky woman and had two semi-tacky children. That Trevor cared deeply for, of course.

Their spare room was lacking the homely feel than the rest of the house possessed, though admittedly it didn't bother Trevor all that much, the male noticing just enough to make note of it. Once he'd unpacked the few belongings he'd brought along, it'd feel a little better. He assumed, at least. He'd already made himself feel semi-comfortable; the male sprawled across the double bed with Eli resting quietly on his chest, the child in the mists of a rather incessant bout of hiccups. Crisp white sheets were cocooned around the two, and Trevor felt oddly contented, for once. The panic from the previous day had faded somewhat, replaced by a mellowness that Trevor only felt after he huffed gasoline or smoked a few reasonable sized joints. The maniac idly curled a lock of red hair around his finger, tuning in an out of the faint midday sirens and hiccups that racked Eli's tiny form every few seconds, the male thinking about nothing in particular.

He was drawn from his thoughts when a less than polite knock met his ears. The male sat up abruptly, taking an agitated Eli up with him, the child whining sharply at the unwarranted change of possession. Michael pushed the door open, offering Trevor an oddly soft smile that made him look slightly unwell.

"How you doin', T?" He asked, Trevor shrugging exaggeratedly.

"Good, good. I'm sorta… Mulling over how high you were when you picked out that wallpaper, but other than that… Yeah, everything is… Peachy." Trevor cooed, easing Eli back against the side of his red, slightly dirtied jacket

"We picked the carpet out first." Michael responded, leaning against the doorway. Trevor snorted, holding back the obvious double entendre in return for a healthy amount of awkward silence. Trevor practically fed off it, at that point in his life.

"I… I'm glad you're alright. I was worried about you, y'know?" Michael had been genuinely concerned about Trevor, though more for the child in his care.

"That makes a first." Trevor breathed in response. Michael's features stiffened somewhat.

"Jesus, Trevor, you sure know how to hold a Goddamn grudge." The male practically breathed.

"Damn right I do. You can put me up in numerous mansions; castles, even, give me all the money in the world, Hell, even worship the fuckin' ground I walk on, and I'll still hold a grudge, you… Cretin." Trevor swallowed down the rest of his ill-manner, showing surprising self-restraint for the first time in a good half of his lifetime.

"Whatever. I've really put myself out for you, and… You've just got no idea." Michael looked uncomfortable, just for a moment. The sight made something dawn on Trevor, though he bit it back with a crooked smirk. The male suddenly held his arms out, the child going with him, the child gazing somewhat familiarly at Michael.

"You wanna hold him? He doesn't bite. Usually. I mean, to say he's toothless, he can really pack a chomp…" Trevor trailed off, though the offer wasn't withdrawn. Eli had stopped hiccupping mere moments ago, the infant looking wide awake, struggling to fixate his gaze upon Michael. The older male hesitated for a moment, visibly shaking away his evident discomfort and leaning forward, scooping Eli carefully from Trevor's grasp.

"Takes after his Dad, right?" Michael stared cautiously down at the infant, who looked confused by the sudden change of face. He didn't recognize Michael, though his voice had the soothing effect on Eli that Trevor's voice would probably never hold.

"I don't ever want him to take after me." Trevor responded scathingly, the ferocity in his tone making Michael chuckle.

"You do have some positive features. I mean, they're obviously distributed sparingly over your personality and sanity, but…" Michael was somewhat enamoured by the infant, who reminded him a lot of Jimmy in his infancy, which he'd missed out on. He offered Eli a soft smile, running a finger over the infant's noise, making him smile a toothless grin and reach up to grab Michael's finger. The action made Trevor promptly stand, holding his arms out expectantly.

"That's enough. Give him to me." Michael stared at him, holding the baby firmly to his chest. Michael was clearly reluctant, straightening his posture at the mere glint of rage in Trevor's gaze.

"I'm just holding him. There's no need for you to get bitchy, I'm not tryin' to take over your motherly duties-" Michael made to defend, but Trevor stepped forward again, gritting his teeth.

"That wasn't a request, sugar tits. Give him back now." He growled, eyes growing narrower by the second. Michael took a tentative step backwards. Eli, oblivious to the situation, reached out a little hand, attempting to brush his chubby fingers against the simple flower patterned tiles set on Tracey's bedroom door.

"I'm not gonna give you a kid when you're practically steaming at the mouth. What kinda guy do you think I am?!"

"A snake, Mikey, a bastard cobra! This wasn't part of the deal; so give him back!" Trevor roared, the sound startling the child nestled in Michael's arms.

"There was no fucking deal, you prick! I offered to let you stay with me because I didn't want you killing somebody in front of him, o-or even-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Michael." Trevor warned darkly, the ferocity of his tone making Michael a little apprehensive.

"I didn't mean it like that, you know I didn't! You have no experience lookin' after kids unsupervised, and you ain't the most stable guy in the world, so I had a right to be nervous for the damn kid!"

"You don't know a thing, you traitorous leech!" Trevor looked infuriated by Michael's claim that he would potentially hurt Eli.

"Then tell me how it is, then!" Michael would've hit Trevor, if he hadn't been holding Eli. Even Michael wasn't that heartless, though he often prided himself on his lack of heart, he couldn't bring himself to strike Trevor at such a time.

"I… I already raised a kid, Mike! So you have no… N-no fucking right to tell me that I can't be trusted with one!" The intenseness of his gaze, the speckle of sadness made Michael's expression falter. He didn't want to press Trevor anymore, snippets of what the male might've been referring to entering his mind. Carefully, Eli was shoved back into Trevor's grasp, the male grasping onto the back of Eli's sleep suit for dear life. The infant gurgled appreciatively, Eli glad to be back in the comforting embrace of his father. There was a stillness that seemed to be reflected from the outside, the cool autumn breeze slowing, constant stream of traffic seeming to have fallen silent. It was uncomfortable, but Michael felt like he deserved to be burdened with it. He hadn't felt even felt as guilty as he did at that very second the last time he'd committed a crime.

"You want me to help you put up that travel crib thing?" Michael asked. Trevor didn't respond right away, the clock in the spare room ticking steadily, filling in the somewhat awkward silence.

"He usually sleeps in the bed. On me." He admitted after a moment.

"That's… Not good, T. Especially if you're still using…" Michael's tone didn't hold disapproval, just a flicker of concern.

"Silence, pork chop. I… I know it ain't good. That's why I'm here, isn't it?" Trevor begrudgingly admitted, voice a disinterested seeming grunt. Michael gritted his teeth, falling against Tracey's door and sighing deeply, his eyes fluttering closed.

"You're gonna help me. Aren't you?" Trevor looked desperate, more than Michael had seen him in years. Since their ill-fated days in North Yankton, since his 'death'. The male mustered a smile.

"Yeah, T. I'm gonna help you."