A/N: Well it certainly has been a while since I last updated. SO MANY THANKS TO MY FRIEND KAYLA who keeps side-eyeing me when I don't update or add on more. I hope this satisfies you even though you've already read most of this chapter for semi-proofreading. Also, you'll have to excuse me. I've been spending way too much time on AO3... (I kind of like it better than FF, sorry)

Also, I've changed the title. It's from Ghosts We Knew by Mumford & Sons

o0o0o0o

Prosper shot up in the bed, eyes flying open. His chest heaved as he tried to force air back into his lungs. He felt congested and disoriented, and the uncomfortable weight around his eyes wasn't helping any.

In a single moment, he remembered exactly what had happened before he passed out. His hand trembled as he raised it to his face, confirming that his mask was still in place. He felt exhausted all of a sudden, the alertness draining from his limbs. He slumped back and let his head fall against a pillow.

The tension was back. The last thing he remembered was blacking out in the middle of a conversation with the Thief Lord, but after that… He didn't even have any idea where he was, if there was a threat around, or if his identity had been compromised. "Fuck," he swore under his breath.

"My my, Schera. Who taught you that kind of language?" Prosper used what little strength he could dredge up to turn his head, catching sight of the Thief Lord sauntering in like he owned the whole place. Which, in hindsight, he probably did. There was no other possibility. He had fainted in the thief's company and the Thief Lord (hopefully) didn't know where he lived, so the only option left was the other thief's home. Or some abandoned theater, but what were the chances? What he could make of his surroundings was too immaculate to be some deserted building.

Prosper shoved his elbows back, propping himself up on the bed. "Where are we?" he rasped. He brought a hand up to his throat as he doubled over and coughed dryly. The Thief Lord was rubbing soothing circles on his back when he straightened back up. "Why did you…"

The Thief Lord held out a cup of water and a small white pill. "Here, take these. They'll help bring down your fever." Prosper took them after a beat of hesitation, popping the pill in his mouth and gulping down the sweet, cool water. He wrinkled his brows at the bitter taste it left in his mouth. Gagging a little, he handed the cup back to the Thief Lord, who watched him with amusement visible through his mask. "Better?"

"I'm pretty sure fever reducing medicine doesn't work that quickly," Prosper deadpanned. "I feel no different, and I probably won't for another hour or so."

"It was worth a try," the Thief Lord said, shrugging. "What do you plan on doing from here on?"

Prosper pushed himself to his feet, staggering a little as he tried to get a hold on his surroundings. He sorely regretted his earlier train of thought because it looked as though he actually was in an abandoned theater. Well, presumably abandoned given the amount of mattresses and furnishings scattered around the area. It seemed lived in though, so there went the possibility of being slaughtered in an undisclosed area and left for the crows to feed on.

"First," Prosper said, glancing down at the Thief Lord from where he stood. "Can you at least tell me where I am?"

The other thief looked contemplative for all of a moment before he stood as well. "Fair enough. While you're here, I can give you the grand tour," Turning away from Prosper, he shouted, "Get yourselves hidden! The guest will be touring so I better not see any of you guys!"

Prosper watched him in amusement, spinning in a small circle so he could see more of his surroundings. It was literally an abandoned theater as he had guessed. The seats were plush and covered with the red cloth that featured in all of the generic representations of movie theaters. There was a low stage at the back of the room, heavy burgundy curtains drawn. Around the main theater space were blankets and books strewn around, toys and tools scattered around them. There were wires and contraptions set up across the ceiling. Overall, it looked tidy for a clutter.

The Thief Lord turned to him, beckoning with a hand. "Come on then. I had to put away my minions for you, so you better enjoy this tour."

Prosper grinned, laughing a little as he followed the Thief Lord up a set of stairs. "Thank you for inviting me into your humble abode."

"Oh, it's no abode," the Thief Lord said, turning and flashing Prosper a toothy smile. "It's a headquarters."

o0o0o0o

Scipio watched as Schera's back vanished behind one of the many buildings surrounding the Stella. He let out a sigh, sagging against the cool stone and carding a hand through his hair.

"Stressed?" Hornet asked, coming up behind him.

"You have no idea," Scipio sighed, slipping the mask off. He rubbed his face, wincing. "That mask gets so ridiculously uncomfortable after five hours. I'm so glad I was able to take it off for a few hours while Schera was sleeping…"

Hornet laughed and nudged him in the side. "I don't think I've seen you that worried since Riccio got sick that one time!"

Scipio glared at her half-heartedly before trudging back into the theater. As he walked, he shed clothing, draping his black cloak on the back of a seat and heading up to where the mattresses lay. "He interests me, that's all. He looks to be about our age, so I've been wondering what he's like. It's not often you see twelve-year-old thieves running around. The first time I met him, he looked pretty inexperienced, so he must have some motives or something of the like."

"You don't have to explain yourself," Hornet said, dropping down onto her cot and shoving a pile of books to the side. "God knows you've already told us enough times."

Leaning against the railing, Scipio flashed her a small smile. "I guess so, haven't I? Anyway, where are Mosca and Riccio, now that I think about it? I told you guys to hide, but I didn't mean disappear."

"I think they went out," Hornet shrugged. "Maybe they wanted to look around the shops and just roam around? Mosca needed some new parts and Riccio has been salivating for some sweets."

Scipio sighed. "Of course they are. Well, when they get back, can you tell them to clean up some of their stuff? I'm pretty sure Schera almost tripped at least five times."

Hornet nodded before turning away so that Scipio couldn't see the grin spreading across her face. "I'm fairly certain that both of you fell hard," she said.

"No, we didn't," Scipio let himself down onto an old mattress, collapsing against the stolen sheets. "We maintained our footing quite well, actually."

"Puns," Hornet muttered to herself.

Scipio pushed himself up onto his elbows, raising a brow. "What was that?"

Hornet smiled brightly, ignoring the question and heading over to her own bed. Scipio was resting on Mosca's, which was probably the safest bet. Riccio's was far too cluttered and suspiciously unsanitary. She picked up a book and brandished it at him. "If you aren't going to be productive, then you might as well read. Do you have anywhere to go? Homework to do?"

"Don't remind me," Scipio groaned. "The Conte assigns far too many assignments for our level. We're thirteen. There's no way we can read that section of the textbook and write an essay in the same night!" Still, he rose to his feet and brushed off his pants. "I probably need to get home. If I stay out for too long, then the adults start thinking that I've off and joined some band of ruffians, and they'll never let me out again."

Hornet set her book down beside her, finger saving the page. "Can't you just run off and join us? You could change your appearance, and we could still keep all of the things we need to learn."

Scipio bit his lip, fingers digging into his pockets. "I wish I could, but there are far too many ways that plan could go wrong. My best chances lie in just staying with them for now and hoping that I can leave in the future. I mean, there are only five more years until I can become independent!" He reached up and took off his bird mask, tossing it haphazardly onto a pile of clothes. "I'll be back later after dinner."

"Alright," Hornet said, waving as Scipio scurried down the stairs and lept off the third to last step. "Do you want us to save a cannoli for you?"

Scipio flashed her a thumbs up right before the heavy doors swung closed. He was in the alleyway now, thankfully hidden from sight. He toed off his chucks and stuffed them into a box with his jacket, hiding it beneath the doorstep. From the same box, he grabbed a set of dress clothes, quickly buttoning up the crisp white shirt and sliding the stiff pants on over his ratty jeans. He pulled on a sweater, grimacing at the shade of orange, and hurried out of the dark, stone-paved alley.

His house wasn't particularly far from the theater, only about five minutes on foot. His father had bought out the Stella and left it to decay, so there was little chance of him ever finding out that Scipio went there daily.

His feet thudded out a steady rhythm against the stone, carrying him to the obnoxiously large and lavish house that he reluctantly called home. "I'm back," he said softly into the silence. There was no response, as usual. The stairs leading up to his room dragged on and on, stark white and cold marble.

The bed in his room was soft and plush as he fell back onto it, but the room seemed empty and devoid of comfort in a way that the Stella didn't, even though it was filled with extravagant furniture and clothing. He rolled over onto his side and pulled out his backpack, dumping his homework onto the covers. He would need to start the essay soon…

o0o0o0o

After much pleading from Bo, Prosper decided to forgo the heist that he'd planned for the next night. He had told Bo that he had plans with friends (who were nonexistent except for maybe Scipio). There was no way that he was going to be able to pull it off anyway, not with his condition. After collapsing in front of the Thief Lord two days ago, he had been out of commision and had missed a day of school. He had just barely been able to avoid the wrath of a few teachers by not underplaying his condition. He still felt awful.

Still, he couldn't just sit around. It felt unnatural to just lounge around when he could be out in the night and thieving. It wasn't an addiction, though it was probably bordering on something along those lines. He threw a black sweatshirt and pulled on a pair of boots that he had filched from a careless neighbor. They were sturdy and fairly light, making them perfect for his night outings.

"Prop?" Bo's sleepy voice came from behind him. "Where are you going?"

Prosper paused, then turned and laid a gentle hand on his little brother's crown of blond hair. "I'm just going out for a bit. I might pick up something that you and mom can eat for lunch tomorrow, okay?"

Bo yawned, rubbing at his eyes. "Mmkay. Come back soon?"

"Yeah," Prosper said. "Come on now, go back to bed. You need sleep!"

Bo nodded and padded off to his makeshift bed. It wasn't until Prosper made sure that his brother actually was sleeping that he slipped out. As expected, the night air was brisk and chilly, but still refreshing. Prosper breathed in deeply, letting his muscles relax and allowing his problems to leave his mind as he roamed the nearly empty streets. He turned his hood up, ignoring the few stragglers still outside.

On his way to the little branch of shops for some food like he promised Bo, Prosper passed by the Stella. He slowed down and stood outside the abandoned theater. He recalled Scipio telling people to scram, so did that mean that there were actually people that lived inside?

He didn't know what to make of the information. Either way, there was the possibility that he could find residence in the theater if there were...vacancies or something. Anything would beat their current living conditions, and there was no way his mother could get better if he stayed in the derelict building.

Bracing himself, he pushed the doors open, wincing at the low creaking sound. Prosper slipped in through the small crack he created, blinking away the spots from the sudden change in light. When his vision cleared, he was facing a group of three people, one of whom was the girl - Hornet, if he remembered correctly - that had confronted him about Scipio. What was she…

"-doing here?"

Prosper startled. "What…?"

A small scrawny boy took a step forward, sticking a broken curtain pole in his face. "I said, what are you doing here?" His voice reminded Prosper of something, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Hornet held out a hand and held the boy back. "I know him. Don't worry. Though, what are you doing here, Prosper?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that? This is a pretty run down place, Hornet." Prosper hunched into himself. He was outnumbered, and the situation probably wasn't that severe of a threat. "I was just scoping out the place, figured that if I needed to relocate, here might work. Is that reason enough for you?" He directed the last question at the shortest boy, the one that was apparently still pointing the pole at him. Prosper reached up and gently pushed it away from his face, grimacing. "Could you please move that away?"

The boy scowled, but acquiesced, holding the pole like a staff, poised to strike. Prosper slowly backed away one step, stopping when he saw the group tense. "I…"

"What do you mean, relocate?" This time it was the other boy, looking significantly less antagonistic than the other two. His skin was dark and his face was relaxed. Prosper sagged a little.

"I… I need to find somewhere else to stay. In my current condition, I can't exactly support my family and winter is coming. We're not going to be able to last through the cold at the rate we're going." Prosper rubbed at his arm, fingers tangling in the fabric. Although the room felt pleasantly heated, there was a chill in his bones that remained

Hornet sighed. "I'll need to check in with our...landlord."

The Thief Lord, Prosper thought. "Alright," he said. "You know where to find me, I guess."

Hornet's lips thinned, but she smiled. "I do."

"Right," Prosper backed away then, tugging the door open. He shivered at the blast of cool air. "I'll be seeing you then?"

"Maybe," Hornet said, raising a hand in farewell.

Prosper trudged down the stone paths, shoving his hands down his pockets. He'd talk about it with his mother later. In the morning, when she woke up. For now, he needed to do some shopping.

o0o0o0o

Scipio shed his jacket, draping them over the back of an old costume box, wooden and worn. It sagged in the corner, weighed down with the mass of clothes haphazardly thrown onto it. He ran a hand through his hair, falling back against a mattress. He knew instinctively that it was Hornet's from the jab in his side. "Ugh, not again…"

He reached under himself and pulled the book out, taking care not to throw it off to the side. Grabbing a random piece of clothing, he stuck it between the pages as a makeshift bookmark before lying back down. Scipio didn't have his own mattress since he stayed over at the Stella only three times a week at most. There was a stray blanket by his feet that he tugged over his shoulders, curling into the warmth he felt nearby. Sometimes he would happen upon Riccio or Mosca's mattresses, and they would all just accept his presence. When he first took them in and created the team that they had now, he had told them all about his situation and what he would expect from them. He couldn't bear to imagine how things would have crumbled and collapsed if he hadn't.

"Scipio…?" Hornet mumbled. Scipio hummed softly in response. "Prosper came by earlier."

He was wide awake now, sitting up in bed and looking in the general direction of her face. "What? Why would he come here?"

"Mm, he said he was looking for somewhere to relocate or something along those lines. He didn't exactly give us a lot of information. Do you think we should?"

Scipio let his body collapse back onto the moth-eaten covers, drowsily burying his face into the still soft fabric. "I don't know… We both know just how horrible his living conditions are right now. The best case scenario would be him joining us and us being able to keep the thievery a secret from him and his family."

Hornet shifted on the bed, shuffling down so that they were approximately eye to eye. "That would be nearly impossible though."

"Exactly."

"Don't worry about it for now then," Hornet reassured. She reached out and grabbed his hand under the covers. "We can figure it out later, when we're all fully awake and capable of making reasonable decisions."

"Yeah," Scipio mumbled. There was no response; Hornet had already drifted off. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the impending feeling of dread. The air felt thick and heavy as he dragged in breaths until he fell asleep.