"I'm not sure we should be humoring him. I know he lost his mom and all, but was taking him really a good idea?" he could hear Mrs. Grey ask, her tone colder than its normal debilitating droning. He could hear his uncle sigh, and he watched the older man's fuzzy outline run a hand through his slicked back hair.

"I know he isn't good for the reputation right now, but I'm sure he'll mellow out. After all, he's only 17. I was far worse than him when I was his age. I was always out partying, spending my parent's money, and-"

"Yes, but that's different," his aunt snapped quietly. She lowered her voice a little, and Kaz winced slightly at her tone before he stilled. He knew what that specific change in tone meant. "You didn't have as many problems as he does. The psychiatrist thinks he might be a sociopath, you know. Would you want to be known as the CEO of a multi-million corporation who lost his fortune to some...some psycho you let waltz into your home?" As she spoke, Kaz felt something ugly work its way through his chest, up his throat and into his mind. Something that made his hands twitch, made them ache to snap someone's neck. His aunt's neck. Mr. Grey gave a tired sigh.

"Look, he's your sister's son. She would have wanted-"

"I don't give a damn what my sister would have wanted. She's dead. That thing down there," she spat, pointing in the direction of the door Kaz was hiding behind, "That thing took her from me. I let him scatter her ashes for the press, but if I had my way he'd be locked in a straight jacket and tucked in a corner somewhere." His uncle's heart rate began to speed up ever so slightly, and he could damn near feel the loathing his aunt gave off in her electrical field. If only his uncle could see it too.

"We only have to take care of him one more year, then he goes into the military. That's good for press, isn't it?" Mr. Grey plead, trying to placate his wife.

"And what if he doesn't get in, hm? What if the military realizes he's damaged goods and doesn't want him either? Then we're stuck with him and we'll have to support his sorry ass until he gets a job. Which, let's be honest, probably will never happen with his disposition."

"But he's got good chances," Mr. Grey insisted. "He's got a plan, and his grades are phenomenal. He's really trying. He's going to do four years in the military and then go to college for engineering. He's going to work for NASA." At this Mrs. Grey slammed the knife she was using to butter sweet rolls with onto the plate, the loud clang causing Kaz to recoil ever so slightly away from the door.

"I don't care! Figure something out before I get rid of him myself," she hissed before beginning to stomp towards the door. The door Kaz was standing behind. He began to swear quietly in German, running as fast as he could back down the stairs as he tried his best to keep the floorboards from creaking beneath his clunky combat boots. He near tripped on the last step before all but diving into his bean bag chair, scrabbling for his controller. Michael gave him a look before his eyes went wide, realization and fear on his face. He reached for his controller as well, and they picked random characters right before Mrs. Grey walked in. Her usual cold, neutral stare was back, but she smiled as her eyes landed on her son.

"Michael, Kaz, I said lunch was almost ready," she said, her tone sounding ever so slightly forced. She glanced over at Kaz, gaze turning frigid as she laid eyes on him. He returned her look with a glare of his own, expression tight-lipped and emotionless as he watched her. Anger. Loathing. Sadness. His mind began to list the possible emotions she was feeling as he watched her electrical field spike and contort in turmoil, near able to taste the conflicting emotions. Odd. Who knew that an emotionless corporate leech felt at all?