Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Galois just stands there, staring. He can hear the sound of his father’s watch ticking on his wrist, the steady bubbling of an experiment going on the back of the lab. He breathes, and he hears that too.

Raphael remains there, one knee to the floor and his head bowed in submission. He braces one elbow on his upturned knee, the other dangling awkwardly at his side. He sees Raphael paw at his hip for a moment, as if searching for something, before reminding himself to drop it. He leans forward, too bent to see his face.

And Father…Father is just watching.

He sees Huginn and Muninn still at the door, their mouths open in twin slack-jawed expressions. Galois leans forward, trying to gauge the look on his father’s face. He couldn’t be seriously considering this, right? He was just thinking of the proper way to send him away. To ensure he didn’t come back with a larger group, to scare him into not revealing how he got inside their stronghold. And then reviewing their security, yes, they’re going to have to redo everything, if this monster of a mutant got in-

“Please say something,” Raphael says, his voice wavering and loud.

“Raphael,” Father says quietly. “How did you disable the Titan outside?”

“The robot? Muh-my brother figured out how.” Raphael audibly swallows. “Leo. The blue one. He faced one once, and there are some videos we got our hands on. He studied them. Figured out how they must work, wrote down how he thought they could be shut down. He was right.”

“Lucky for you.” Galois folds his arms. “Dione is the very best of her generation. It must have been luck that you avoided being decapitated by her, because if you-”

“Galois.”

Father’s voice is gentle, but firm. Galois looks away.

Raphael is still kneeling on the floor, staring at the tiles. Father steps closer to him. “Raphael, you-no, both of you, out of here.” Father makes a shooing motion with his hand.

Huginn begins to sputter. “But what if you need us to walk him out, or-”

“I can handle it. You are both dismissed for the night.”

“But-”

“Go. And I better not catch you peeping.”

Huginn slinks off dejectedly. Muninn makes the sign they’ve agreed on as the ‘spill the tea later’ signal and follows him. The doors come to a heavy close behind them.

Father turns back to Raphael still on the ground, and folds his hands behind his back. “Now, Raphael. I want you to tell me why it is you’re here.”

“I just-I told you.” Raphael’s voice quivers. “I’m not lying. I want to help protect my brother. And Casey too, if you’ll let me.” His breath hitches, but he moves on. “I can tackle creeps and watch his back. I got shot a few weeks ago and could hide it from my dad because it pretty much just bounced off my shell, I can cover him, I can-

“I have always meant for Cassandra to serve as Galois’s protector out in the field, and I have Tigerclaw.”

“That wasn’t enough,” Raphael says to the floor. “It wasn’t enough last time.”

“The last time you assaulted them, you mean? ‘Last time’ wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t-”

“But now there are these government goons all over the place-”

“Do not interrupt me. You’ve been working with your family to abduct and gaslight my son for close to a year now. The last time we met, I had to argue with you to retrieve my own child and administer life-saving aid. Even when both your brothers were telling you to allow it.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind then. I thought-there were bombs going off everywhere, our dad was freaking out at us, I thought they were both-” Raphael ducks his head again. “Please. You don’t have to trust me with that, just-I don’t know what else you’d use me for, but I can do stuff for you. I can clean and lift stuff and do whatever you want. I can’t cook like Mikey or make stuff like Donnie or play doctor like Leo, but I can still work. You can…use me as a test subject if you want. Whatever. Whatever you want.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, why are you here now? This has been going on for a year. All you’ve cared about is separating my son from me, no matter what it cost him, and now you’re claiming to care about his well-being to the point of submitting to me. What changed?”

Raphael doesn’t raise his head. His arms are trembling.

“Raphael.”

“I…realized something when you helped me pull my brothers out of that rubble,” he says quietly. “Something about prices and…losing them. And what I’d do to protect them.” He raises his head, his eyes determined and free of tears. “Maybe you’re still the awful guy who threw my brother off a roof, but I love my brothers more than I hate you. So I’m here.”

“Touching,” his father says dryly. “And how do I know this isn’t some elaborate plot to kidnap my son?”

“You don’t,” Raphael answers honestly. “I’ll do whatever you want to prove it, though. Put a tracker in me. Screw with my head, I don’t care. I’m the tank guy, not the plan guy. I just want to protect my brother.”

“That is all very selfless of you. You are, however, aware that this isn’t your brother?” Father motions to Galois, just off to his side. “This is Galois Draxum, my son. He is not your brother, and he will never be your brother. And you still want to protect him?”

Raphael hangs his head, his fingers curling tight. “Yes.”

“Then say so. I won’t allow you to call my son by a false name.”

Raphael inhales, his shell rising with him. “I want to protect…Galois. Please. Whatever you want. I’m yours.”

Father folds his arms, tilting his head up. He observes Raphael silently, his eyes scanning over his shoulders and bulging muscles and shell spikes. And Galois sees almost…a smirk on his father’s face. 

And a sort of wolfish, eager look in his eyes that he does not like.

“Father, you’re not thinking of allowing this,” Galois asks directly. “He pinned me to his sweaty wrestling mat. He abducted Cassandra from her school. Come on, he is not serious about this, he is absolutely planning to double-cross us.”

“And he has never tried to kill you,” Father replies. “I’m worried less about him and more about those who want you dead.”

“Him and his brothers are the reason Cass and I were there in the first place. If it wasn’t for them-”

“I can’t keep you inside until the war is over,” Father says harshly. “I can’t put people on the front lines and then refuse to risk bringing my son to the surface, my constituents would turn on me in an instant.” 

“We’ve been going over-”

“Clearly, the safety measures I’ve employed in order to protect you have been insufficient. Something has to change. Perhaps this is our answer.”

“We have other options. We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”

“So you know as well as I do that none have satisfied me. I need a way to keep you safe up there.”

Galois shakes his head. “This is some grand abduction plot, mark my words. Blue is probably behind this.”

“I’d rather have you abducted than dead,” Father hisses. “At least then I can get you back.”

Galois settles back, his hands curled into fists.

“Raphael,” his father announces, turning on his heel. “Before we begin-oh, get to your feet, child, you don’t need to do that here.”

Raphael pushes up, his legs both shaking as he rises to his full height. Galois can see the skin of his knee is slightly reddened.

He’s huge. He’s known that before, has been closer to him, but Raphael is huge. He’s nearly as tall as his father, and about half again as wide. His muscles are large and well-defined, and his shell adds a whole dimension to his ridiculous size.

And he’s not finished growing. Not even close. Kappa Yokai typically grow into their thirties, sometimes into their fifties. Raphael is going to be massive.

“Now, Raphael.” His father clears his throat. “I want you to understand what this decision will mean. I will not allow you to take it back. Once you give your oath, you will not return to your old life unless I release you from it. You may never see your family again. You may die in my service. I need you to understand what you’re promising.”

Raphael stares down at the floor.

“How old are you, Raphael?”

“Six…seventeen. Seventeen years old, sir.”

“Wonderful, so you’re old enough to give a yes or no answer. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Raphael?”

“...Yes.” Raphael sniffs.

“I need someone who will keep my son alive. I need someone who can anticipate threats to his person and remove them, defend him if need be. This will involve killing. It may involve dying. I will not force you to harm innocents. I would not dishonor you this way.”

Raphael looks up, blinking.

“And I will not ask you to harm your family,” Father continues. “I won’t ask you to do any of my dirty work. Your job would only be to keep Galois safe. That said, I will expect you to follow my orders unquestionably, especially in the field, and prioritize Galois’s safety above all else. I will not stop you from voicing your opinion, but I will not have you interfering in my plans. You will not have contact with anyone without my express permission and you will not step foot outside this house without my leave, say yes if you understand.”

“I-yes, I do understand, sir.”

“Good. I expect you to protect my son with everything you are. I expect you to die for him, if necessary. That is what I need.” Father inhales. “On my end, I will promise to treat you with fairness and never ask anything of you that dishonors you. I will train you the way I see fit and provide you with everything you need, and I will not harm you unjustly. You will have to earn my trust, Raphael, but I am willing to wipe the slate clean if you are willing to work for it.”

“Yes. I mean, I am willing. And I understand.”

“Is there anything you wish to request of me?”

Raphael just stares at him, confused. “I’m…allowed to do that?”

“You came to me by choice. That means something to me.”

Galois rolls his eyes.

“Muh-my family,” Raphael sputters quickly. “I mean, not just my family, but especially them. All the mutants in the colony. And the one’s out at Todd’s, I mean Long Island. Don’t…I don’t want you to target them.”

“I have no plans whatsoever of harming any of them.”

“Or anything. Don’t mess with their water or harass them or…do anything to push them to join you. Just let them be.” He huffs a few times, like he’s run out of air. “That’s all I’m asking for. I know you’re probably gonna make more mutants and poach the single ones wandering around, but leave these groups alone. Please.”

“They would be better off-” Galois begins, but Father waves his hand.

“That is doable.” Father strokes his chin. “We weren’t planning to put pressure on them until stage nine, in any case. I can make the necessary changes. If they do ask to join us, however, I will accept. But I give you my word that I will not influence their decision in any capacity, and I will ensure my subordinates do the same.”

“Oh. Okay.” Raphael nods. “Just…like that, then?”

“Just like that.” Father nods. “I need you to understand what it is you’re agreeing to do. I do not want you regretting this.” Father motions his head. “If you have any doubts about what you’re putting your name to, then go. Return to your life and I will forget this happened. I do not want you here if you are not wholly committed. If you wish to go home, Raphael, then go.”

Raphael just gapes at him. But then he closes his mouth. Shakes his head.

“I want this. I do.”

Father steps forward, eyes locked with Raphael’s, and sticks out his hand. They stare, and the seconds seem to stretch on forever.

And Raphael takes it.

“Wonderful.” Father turns swiftly away, leaving Raphael standing there with big eyes, breathing like he’s about to start hyperventilating. “I will write this all up in a moment, make this contract official. Then we’ll need-hrmm, I’ll need a place for you to sleep first of all, and…hmm.”

“A…contract, sir?”

“I am not Big Mama. I do not plan to cheat you. You have a right to know what you are getting into, and putting this in writing forces me to make good on my part. It protects you more than it does me.”

“...If you say so.”

“But with that settled-” Father looks up then, his eyes settling on Galois at last. “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

“What?” Galois gapes at him. “But Father-”

“But nothing. You are still healing and you need rest. You will get your required sleep and you will eat something before returning to work tomorrow. This was the agreement for letting you off bedrest, Galois.”

“I know. But-” Galois holds up a hand. “We need…shouldn’t we take blood samples? And look at his scans, and-”

“He will need a full exam. That can wait until tomorrow. You’re tired, I’m tired, Raphael has walked here from…?”

“Witch Town, sir,” Raphael says quietly.

“Yes, one of the Witch Town portals. Which I’m sure was quite a story, sneaking out of there. But that is no negligible distance, and you aren’t even wearing shoes. No, you could do with a few hours rest, at least. Raphael and I will see to the few things that cannot wait and deal with the rest on the morrow.” 

“You’re going to be alone with him,” he hisses.

Father just raises an eyebrow. “I know what I’m doing, Galois.”

Galois turns, and Raphael is just staring at him. Again. Looking like he’s about to burst into tears or something. Galois gives him the most disdainful sniff he can muster and turns away.

“Fine.”

He wheels his scooter around the table, leaning in to give his father a hug and rest his cheek against his chest. “Good night, Father.”

Father’s arms come around him. “Good night, Galois.” His hand glides over the top of Galois’s head. “Sleep well.”

He scoots back over to his computer corner, unlatching himself from the knee scooter and picking up his crutches. Raphael just continues to stare at him. Galois glares back.

He sits in the chair sideways, one knee pulled up and his foot resting on the cushion. He can still taste the acidic bile on his tongue, despite brushing his teeth a second time. The scene on his laptop screen, the live feed from the security cameras in the lab, hasn’t changed hardly at all.

They’re not ready, he wants to argue. But that’s absurd. They’ve been ready for weeks. His father has known they’ve been ready for weeks. But Galois hadn’t signed off on them yet, and Father hadn’t broached the subject.

There had been no point. There hadn’t been anyone to use them on, no one but Tigerclaw and Cass were allowed around him in the first place. Truly, Galois had hoped that they’d never be used, that by the time Father allowed him out of the house he’d have other people he trusted. That maybe he wouldn’t be so scared anymore.

He knows the collar around Raphael’s neck. The seamless design, the burnished steel. Of course he does. He made it. Made it to shock its wearer, to listen and track and to assure obedience.

And to explode. Can’t forget that part.

Raphael is holding a piece of paper in his hands. His father continues to fiddle with the collar, a screwdriver clutched in his fingers.

He has to hear this. Owes it. Galois turns on the audio.

“-just saying I’m not a kid,” Raphael says through his headphones. “I’m not stupid like that.”

“I didn’t say you are. I simply didn’t want to leave loopholes.”

“I wanted to come here. No one’s forcing me to do this-”

“I believe you. But I have been wrong about such things before.” Father pulls his hand away. “How does that feel?”

“I told you, it’s fine.” 

“Once this collar is activated I cannot adjust it, Raphael, and I will not be taking it off you. It will stay on until I either release you from your contract or you require a larger model.” Father steps to the other side. “Or I detonate the explosive charge within. Which I will not hesitate to do if you betray me.”

“I won’t.”

“I hope not.” Father reaches out to fiddle with something else. “Is there anything else in the contract you would like to go over?”

“Right here in section four. About expenses and renting-”

“That’s just legal terminology. I’m assuming responsibility for feeding and clothing you, and all other expenses associated with you living here.”

“With you.”

“With me,” Father agrees. “It means you will be adequately fed while you remain in my care and entitles you to medical care, and that I will take on whatever costs your training and job will incur.”

“Like what? I’m just going to be following my brother-”

Galois grimaces.

“-around. I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Weapons and armor, any other equipment you may need and their maintenance. If I issued you a gun, I would obviously take on the costs of repairs and ammunition. And once we move on from New York there will be travel expenses. If I’m in Rome and I need Galois I’d need to fly him to me, I couldn’t make an instant portal all the way back here to New York. Even if it’s technically free in terms of currency, there’s still a cost in resources.”

“Why couldn’t you-” Raphael shakes his head. “Never mind. I don’t want a gun, though.”

“You will use whatever I tell you to use, but I will take your preference into account. I don’t prefer guns myself either.” Father steps back. “All this protects you more than it protects me, Raphael. If the war ends and I no longer require your services, this ensures I cannot present you with a bill after releasing you.”

“I…didn’t even think about that.”

“You have much to learn, child.”

“I’m learning.” Raphael puts the papers down on the table. “Alright, where’s the pen?”

“You might find these a little odd.” Father turns around, grabbing something off his counter. “These are what I was enchanting earlier.”

“...Feathers?”

“Quills.” Father hands one to Raphael, white and spotted with gray. “They are single use, enchanted to sign contracts like these. Considering you’ve only negotiated with Big Mama I’m not surprised that you haven’t seen them. They ensure that the signer is who they say they are, that they are free of any magical influence and are not signing under duress. It will involve a prick of blood. Just-” Father presses the feather tip to his thumb, holding it out for Raphael to see. “It doesn’t hurt much.”

“I’m not afraid of pain.” Raphael still makes a face when he pricks himself. “Yeesh. So I sign-”

“Raphael. Right now I can take that collar off of you. If you’ve changed your mind, I will remove it and burn our contract, and you may leave. I won’t pursue you, and we never have to speak of this again.” Father puts his hand down on the paper. “Once this contract is signed, there is no turning back. I am allowing you to back out. Think hard on if you really want to do this. If you sign this, you will belong to me.”

You don’t, Galois thinks. Say no. Go away. You’ll regret this. You’ll beg to make this choice again, to choose better. And by then it’ll be too late.

Raphael just glares at Father. He pulls the paper to him, holding the quill between two of his fingers.

“I sign here?”

Father breathes out. “Yes. Full name. Middle name if you have one.”

“I don’t. Unless you count Red.”

Galois’s empty stomach turns over again.

Father signs one paper and Raphael signs another, switching and writing again. When they’re done, Father takes a match and burns both quills together.

“So it’s done.” Raphael looks at the smoke trails still evaporating in the air.

“I just need to activate the seal on your collar.”

“Great.”

“Don’t go fiddling with it. If you try to pull it off, it will explode.”

Oh, so they’re just lying now? The collars were designed to fail downwards. Interrupting the outer circuits would trigger intense electric shocks, paralyzing the wearer and sending an alert out to the system with its location. Both he and his father agreed that they would rather risk someone successfully removing their collar and fleeing than having it detonate due to damage taken in the field or simple accidents. After all, his father could always put a hit out on an escapee. He couldn’t piece someone’s head back together.

“I won’t.”

“I will perform a full exam on you tomorrow,” Father says, fingers back on the collar. “And we will be going over the rules for my house and my expectations of you in greater detail. Later this week I will judge your physical prowess and mental aptitude, and from there I will determine an adequate training schedule to suit your body and your duties.”

“Like, you’re going to make me take tests?”

“Many tests. Merely to gauge your abilities. There is no failing score, even if it’s determined that you cannot read. I wouldn’t be surprised, with Lou Jitsu as your educator.”

“Know how to read,” Raphael mutters.

“I am home often now because my son needed me while he was injured,” Father continues. “But I am gradually starting to return to my duties at the head of a revolution, and Galois will soon as well. He will be busy, and Tigerclaw will be with me. I will have to trust you to adhere to your own training regiment and do the work I’ve assigned you, can I trust you to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut and not poison my son’s mind with your lies?”

“Yes. I meant what I said, I’m not here to convince him of anything or trick you. I just don’t want him to get hurt.” Raphael half-stands out of his chair as Father walks away. “Trust me on that part. I love him. No matter what you’re calling him, I love my brother and I’ll die before I let anything else happen to him.”

“That’s good. You are aware I won’t allow you to continue calling him that?”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Raphael grumbles as Father steps away. “What are you planning on doing when he finds your notes from making us?”

“I have no notes from his creation. They were all destroyed.”

“Well, what’ll you tell him when he realizes he looks like me? That we have DNA in common?”

“You don’t look like my son. And I don’t have to worry, because that will never happen.”

“You actually believe it, don’t you?” Raphael shakes his head. “You believe your own lies. You’ve convinced yourself that he’s actually this Galois person and not-”

And Raphael lets out a shocked yelp, jumping from his seat and stepping backwards several places. His hands go to the collar, his eyes wide.

“Oh good, that’s working,” Father says dryly. “As I’ve stated before, the explosive capabilities are a secondary function, the primary purpose of the collars is its positioning system and electroshock capability.” Father holds up the bracelet Galois had mounted the controls on. “I set the electrodes off on zero, which should have only given off a weak vibrating sensation.”

“It didn’t hurt,” Raphael says breathlessly. “Just…surprised me. Having a bomb strapped to my neck makes me a little jumpy.”

“I see.” Father pauses, and Galois can see in his mind’s eye how Father’s eyes must be flicking over Raphael. Coldly. “Nothing can trigger the explosive charge prematurely, don’t worry. This has been tested quite thoroughly.” Father places the bracelet back down on the table. “The electroshocks range in intensity from zero to ten. I will try to use my words as much as you try to follow them, so if you make a fervent effort to follow my commands and learn then we will be using this very sparsely. I have it set for one right now, which should not hurt and will cause no damage. There will be discomfort and an itching sensation, but there should not be pain. I will be thrilled if I never have to turn the voltage up.”

“What happens at ten?”

“Ten would be extremely painful,” Father replies. “You would likely lose consciousness after two or three shocks, and multiple shocks in a short period of time would definitely cause damage to your throat, not to speak of the effect it would have on your brain. Eventually it would stop your heart, but there are fail safes built into the collar that limit the amount of power it can put out before it shuts itself off. I can override it if necessary, but I don’t believe that anything less than a mad rampage on your part would be justification for doing so. Even at your configuration a max shock would last half a second, if that. I would have to press this button many times over for it to cause significant damage, and I have an easier way to kill you.”

Raphael raises his hand to his neck.

“If what you’ve said is true, you have no cause to worry,” Father tells him. “Galois’s inventions do not fail. Something your brother’s work did quite frequently, as I understand, but I digress. Nothing will set that charge off but a command from myself, and Galois’s interface is designed to make it impossible for me to accidentally press that button. Even if this does not pan out, you are far more valuable as a living hostage than as a headless corpse.”

“It is all true. I’m here to keep him safe. No plots or nothing. There’s government people wanting to kill him, if I took him out of here now-” Raphael pauses, staring off into the distance with a distinct frown on his face.

“He’s much safer here than he would be anywhere you could hide him,” Father agrees. “If nothing else, you and your brothers have taught me quite a bit about the holes in my own security. Every attempt to abduct him forced me to recommit to his safety, and now when the stakes are higher than ever he couldn’t be more well-protected.”

“That’s great. That’s what I care about, I just want Don-”

“The other thing-” Father says loudly. “That you should know about this collar. It possesses sophisticated language processors and can recognize when you’re speaking through the movements of your throat. It will learn to recognize your own voice, in time. It likely already has.”

“Okay. Did you want me to take a vow of silence or something?”

“No. But I will not have you calling my son a name that is not his. If you utter your dead brother’s name again, the collar will shock you.”

Raphael takes a step back, his eyes wide. “What is wrong with you?!”

“I would like to remind you, Raphael, that you willingly put that collar on yourself.” Father straightens his back. “It will respond to both his full name and his primary nickname. If you try to get creative to bypass this, I will further restrict the ruleset. I do not wish to do that, especially as ‘don’ is a common suffix and would cause a number of false activations, but if you push me I will. I am not programming out the word ‘brother,’ as you have two more of them, but I will if you continue to refer to Galois as such. Do not test me on this. I have no patience for this game anymore.”

“You’re nuts.” Raphael shakes his head. “Like, certified batshit. You really believe this, huh?”

“I am helping you come to grips with reality. Your brother is dead. There is no reason to speak his name.”

“God.” Raphael looks away, the opposite security camera picking up his bitter grin of incredulousness. “You know, I came here thinking I hated you, but if it was for my brother I could deal with that. Maybe I could hate you less. But-” He laughs then, bitterly. “I think I hate you more now.”

“I believe I’ve been quite fair.”

“Oh no, you’ve been more than fair.” Raphael shakes his head. “You’ve been better than I hoped. That doesn’t make sense, does it? I figured you’d give me a collar or something gross like that. God. I still want to punch you.”

“Raphael, I don’t want you to hate me,” Father says. “I would like us to be allies. If nothing else, we both want to keep Galois safe. And you are so very young, with so much potential. So much to learn. I want to help you. I want to teach you and train you, see what you can really do with the proper support behind you. I would very much like to take care of you, child.”

“I doubt that.”

“Doubt me all you want. That is my wish but make no mistake, it is not my priority. My son is and always will be the most important thing in the world to me. I would do anything to see him safe and happy, and I will not compromise his well-being to entertain your delusions.” Father steps closer. “This ends now. You will drop these lies and acknowledge that Galois is my son, in truth and by law. You will obey my every command, without hesitation, and you will keep my son safe. That is now your purpose in life. You asked for this, child. You chose this.”

Raphael just stares at the floor, silent.

“I want you to understand something, Raphael,” Father says suddenly. “You are now my property, and Galois is my sole heir. When I die, everything goes to him. If I die while that collar is around your neck, you will go to him as well.”

“Okay.” Raphael shrugs. “I’m here for him anyway. And he’s not the type to kill me for no reason.”

“Of course he’s not. But it would behoove you to remove me from the picture, wouldn’t it? No pesky Draxum to correct your lies or step in when you gaslight my son. Much simpler to accomplish whatever it is you’re planning. And don’t give me lip, I know you hope to do something here, even if you don’t have a concrete plan.” Father reaches out and touches the collar. “If I die up there and Galois takes over, as is his right as my successor, he will need protectors more than ever. You will be useful. He might even like you by that point. Of course he’d keep you around…unless you played a part in his father’s death, of course.” Father pulls his hand away. “Then he might detonate your collar, and he’d be fully within his rights to do so.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Raphael says quietly.

“You won’t. But if the chance arises-be sure to make it convincing for Galois, at the least. He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need to live with the guilt of blowing off your head as well.”

“I’m not planning anything,” Raphael insists. “I just want him safe. I swear. That’s all I want, to keep him safe.”

“And that’s all I want. So you can take this as a warning.” Father leans in and speaks low. “Galois may find mercy in his heart if I happen to meet an untimely end, but I will not. Without Galois, I would have absolutely no use for you. So while you’re training to guard my son’s life, Raphael, know this. I will not care if it was a freak occurrence, an accident, if you did everything you could to save him. If my son’s heart stops beating, I will detonate your collar. You will not draw another breath in a world where he ceases to breathe. If Galois dies, so do you.”

Raphael raises his head, staring Father right in the eye. “I understand.”

“Good. Now let’s find a place for you to sleep.”

Galois slams the laptop shut.

He walks into the lab wearing a zip-up hoodie and one of his lighter aprons, having already rubbed the sleep from his eyes and imbibed his necessary morning caloric and caffeine intake.

“Good morning, Father,” he says as brightly as he can.

Father looks over his shoulder, his scanner in hand. “It’s early. You’re usually not up for another few hours.”

Raphael is just standing there, eyes on the ground and his shoulders hunched up. He doesn’t greet him.

Galois does not look at the collar.

“Yes, but I thought you’d need help with his medical exam.”

“I’ve been conducting yours on my own for years, Galois, I am perfectly capable of handling this.”

“Yes, but I’m already here! I might as well give you a hand.” He does up the straps on his knee scooter. “Two pairs of eyes are more precise than one, after all.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I did. I slept an adequate number of hours, showered, and even stripped my bed so Huginn and Muninn could wash my sheets. I’m ready to work.” He rolls himself over, pulling on a pair of sterile gloves. And he does not acknowledge the fact that his father has his helmet on. “What have we done already?”

Father sighs. “I’ve gotten his weight and measurements and am just getting a set of scans done.”

“Great, so we still need samples. I can prepare those.” He glances down at the papers as he starts pulling things out of drawers. “Did you factor in the collar’s weight? If you adjusted it properly it should weigh over six pounds.”

“I noted its weight when I put it on him and subtracted it from his total weight. I know what I’m doing, Galois.” If he expected Galois to be surprised by the collar, he doesn’t show it.

“Just checking.”

“I’m going to run a full antibody panel with the rest of the blood tests, but I would like a copy of his vaccination records regardless.”

“I can get his medical records from Hypatia, their security is laughable. Are we doing the full work-up?”

“Yes, I want everything. Arms up, boy. The lumbar puncture will have to wait, we will need to put him under for that.”

“Of course.” He catches Raphel’s panicked look, though he quickly returns his eyes to the floor. Galois pauses, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment.

“And you still want to do the bone marrow?”

“Please. That will only require some localized anesthetic.”

“Noted.” Galois goes opening drawers in search of what he needs. “Does Cass know yet?” he asks quietly.

Father’s face betrays nothing, except for the imperceivable tug of a frown at the corner of his lips. “I told her.”

“And?”

“She voiced her opinions. She’s in training with Tigerclaw right now.”

“She’s upset.”

“She will do as I say. That’s all that matters.” Father lowers the scanner. “Alright, Raphael, take a seat and Galois will start with the samples. I have notes to make.”

Galois moves around the table, tying the tourniquet tight around Raphael’s bicep after he’s settled in one of the backless stools. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

Raphael swallows. “Um. Not today, your…father said he wanted to get all this done first.” He stares off into the distance. “I was too nervous to eat yesterday.”

“I mean, that’s perfect for the exam.” Galois pinches the needle into Raphael’s vein. “Less good in other ways.”

“Man, warn a guy first…”

“Oh, do you not like needles? Apologies, I’m very used to them. I’ll let you know next time so you can turn away.”

“We should be wrapped up by afternoon,” Father says. “I, hmm. Fasting for two days, that wouldn’t produce accurate results for the stress and exertion tests. And I don’t want to risk him passing out. We’ll do that…no, I do Cassandra’s checkups on Tuesdays and Galois’s on Wednesdays.”

“You can probably skip me this week, considering how much you’ve documented this past month.”

“Nice try. No, Cassandra often wakes up early, I can get hers out of the way and start Raphael’s stress tests before lunch tomorrow. We can eat a bit late.”

“Um. What are you-” Raphael looks down as Galois switches the filled blood vial out for a new one. “Sorry. Never mind.”

“He’s going to have you do some exercises and monitor your heart and breathing,” Galois says flippantly. “And record how much you can lift, how fast you can run, things like that.”

“Oh. I haven’t…haven’t really been working out lately. My numbers are probably gonna be lower than normal.”

“That’s fine. We just want a baseline to work with.” Another vial. “My father will do more testing until we establish a base average for you.”

“Is it…going to hurt?”

“It’s exercise,” Father says without looking up from his book. “It shouldn’t.”

Raphael just looks down at his knees.

Galois switches out for the last vial. “Do you want him to run through the academic tests?”

“Please. I’ll need you to print those out for me. I’ll handle that at the end of the week, so he can approach it with a clear head.”

“I’ll need to know what subjects.” Galois presses a cotton ball to Raphael’s arm, eyes darting upwards. “Raphael.”

“Oh.” He blinks. “What?”

“Hold this, apply pressure. What subjects can I expect you to have knowledge of? English is your native language, obviously, but do you speak Japanese at home? Do you know any other languages?”

“Um. Dad didn’t really talk much in Japanese growing up. I can kind of understand what he’s saying most of the time, but-”

“Wonderful, I’ll be printing off both English and Japanese comprehension tests to evaluate your knowledge.” Galois sets his looking glass back down on the table, the recording app active. “Anything else?”

“A little Spanish. But like, most people in New York speak a little Spanish, I don’t know a lot. Leo’s fluent. I just know a bit.”

“We’re just trying to determine what you know, Raphael,” Father says boredly.

“Stand up.” Galois motions, grabbing another needle off the tray. “Pull down your shorts at the side.”

“I-” Raphael blinks. “Can we, I-”

“At your side, I need to get to your hip. Unless you want me to extract your bone marrow without anesthetic.” Galois’s eyes flick up at him. “You don’t want to do that without anesthetic.”

Raphael stares at him some more, then the rest of his words seem to trickle through his tympanum and he rolls his shorts down a few inches.

“Good, this will only take a second.” Galois inserts the needle and presses down on the plunger. “There, you can sit back down. So I’m assuming you don’t know anything about Yokai history, correct?”

“No.” Raphael shakes his head, settling back in his chair. “I don’t know much history at all. Or much about the world. I only know who the president is because…well, you know.”

“And we all wish we could be so blissfully ignorant of his existence. Alright, so I’m going to give you the very basic exams for Yokai, American, and world history and politics, and we’ll climb from there if you prove to be more knowledgeable than you thought, hold out your palms. Your father homeschooled you until a few years ago, correct?”

“Yeah. Me and Leo and Mikes all together. He did…my other brother separate, since he was so far ahead.”

“Lou Jitsu’s own education was abhorrent,” Father says. “He received middling to poor marks and dropped out part way through his second year of high school.”

“Second year for what kind of high school?”

“Japanese upper-secondary. He had just turned seventeen.”

“That sounds about right.” Galois swipes the last Q-tip underneath Raph’s fingernail. “So I’m assuming you have at most the equivalent of an American middle schooler’s understanding of math and science with little specialization in any subject, am I correct? Perfect. Did you read much growing up?”

“Not really. The twins were more of the readers. It took me a while to figure it out.”

“And how are you with computers?”

“I’m…really bad. My brother always handled computer stuff. I can work my phone and he showed me how to install game mods for Subnautica on my computer, but that’s it. I can’t really type fast either.”

“Of course you can’t, not on a human keyboard.” Galois presses his own hand flat on the table to show the difference. “Father, someone else is going to get to use those geriatric keyboards of yours.”

“I don’t type much,” Father says, taking a sip from his insulated cup. “Someone should get some use out of them.”

“Just a moment here, let me change my gloves. Oh, reminder to myself to print off the basic run of comprehension and problem-solving tests and psychological screening, which I will administer even though I know them to be pseudoscience. Raphael, if you would open your-”

“What are you doing?!”

Galois stops short, the swab stick halfway to Raphael’s opened mouth. “Getting a saliva sample?”

“Are you mad?” Father is halfway around the table, gesturing to Raphael like Galois can’t see him sitting right there. “He has a bite force stronger than that of a hippopotamus. And you’re reaching your fingers into his mouth.”

“I wasn’t gonna bite him,” Raphael says quietly.

“It-I didn’t say you would.” Father glances away. “It’s reflexive. Galois, he could bite your hand clean off.”

“So? I could bite my own hand off if I wanted.” He’d never tried to fit his hand into his mouth, but he’s fairly certain he can.

“No.” Father waves his hand. “I will handle that, with the proper safety gear. Put that down.”

Galois feels his teeth grit together. “Fine. I’ll move onto the hearing tests.”

“Don’t give me attitude.”

“I’m not. I’m doing what you say.”

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I know. I’m not saying anything.” He pulls the earphones from the machine. “Do you know what to do for this test?”

Galois watches Raphael’s face as he administers the hearing test, his pencil scratching across the parchment. He very much dislikes the books his father chooses to record his data in-unlined, thick paper, often yellowing not with age but because of some idiot marketing tactic. Raphael follows direction well, responding to the sounds promptly and not filling the air with excess chatter.

He looks like he wants to cry. He doesn’t look Galois or his father in the eye, or anywhere near their faces at all. He keeps his eyes on his knees, stiff and shaking even as he follows their orders.

Galois taps his eraser against the page. “Do you know what a lumbar puncture is, Raphael?”

Raphael looks up. “...What?”

“Earlier, we mentioned a lumbar puncture and you looked a little freaked out. Do you know what that is?”

“Um. No. No, but I should, I know. They mentioned one when Leo was in surgery, but they had a lot of words Raph didn’t know.”

“They were probably giving him spinal anesthesia. That’s similar to an epidural, you know, what humans get in childbirth.”

“Raphael, you can ask us questions,” Father says in an obvious tone. “If you don’t understand or something frightens you, you may ask all the questions you like. All I care about is that you obey me when I do give you a command.”

“What we’re going to do is extract a bit of your cerebrospinal fluid through a needle. Don’t have to be nervous.”

“Okay.” Raphael breathes. “Is this thing dangerous?”

“Not in the slightest. You may have a headache afterwards, but that’s all.”

“Isn’t my…spine kind of merged with my shell?” Raphael asks.

“It is, which is why we’ll be knocking you out for it. It’s normally not an invasive procedure, but my father will have to use different equipment to penetrate your shell.” Galois pulls up the correct test on his tablet. “Look at these and tell me what number you see. It’s a little sore afterwards, but it’s not bad. It should hurt very little.”

“Twenty-seven. Have you ever gotten one?”

“Of course. It’s part of my annual.” His eyes slide over to his father. “And when I’m ill. I had to have one last December when my fever spiked at 107.4.”

“One oh-” Raphael’s eyes go wide. “Dude.”

“I was fine. Everything we were testing for was negative, it went away on its own after a few days. The number?”

“Oh. Uhhh, nine. So, am I gonna have to do these exams now? You do one every year, but-”

“Oh, no.” Galois shakes his head. “We do all the extra tests we don’t bother to do at my regular exams roughly once a year, to have the data on file. Cassandra and I get full exams once a month, and I get a lighter check-up every week.”

“Am I gonna have to do it that often?”

“Yes,” Father answers. “That was in your contract, Raphael, you gave me full authority over your medical decisions and physical well-being.”

“Forty-one. Why does Casey only need to do it once a month?”

“Because she is a healthy nineteen-year-old human girl who is progressing entirely regularly,” Father replies, turning a page. “And I have a plethora of information on human physiology and development to know what that should look like. Galois is a species unto himself and I monitor him closely to both track the results of my mutation and ensure he’s healthy, and the same now goes for you. I will not hurt you, Raphael, I’m doing it because this is the most reliable way I keep you healthy. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, thirty-six.” Raphael shifts in his chair. “So what does this spine thing do?”

“It’s mostly used to diagnose certain diseases and infections, so the wider population only needs them when they’re unwell. But considering our-” Galois weighs his hands. “More unique physiology, it’s best to have a point of reference and keep a close eye on everything.”

“Fifty. Oh, so we know what my spine fluid looks like normally, so if it was different you’d know I was sick.”

“Exactly.”

“I know all this testing seems excessive,” Father says. “But it has purpose. I’ve seen test subjects fail horrendously due to lapses in the tiniest details. I do not want that for you.”

“I think this test subject is pretty tough,” Raphael says bluntly.

Father looks up, but he doesn’t say anything.

Galois runs through the rest of the physical tests with his mouth rattling off explanations a mile a minute-really, Raphael has excellent hearing, and his vision is easily superior to that of a human. Which made sense-alligator snapping turtles were nocturnal ambush predators and opportunistic feeders, they needed good eyesight to see in the dark. They could hear at the lowest range of sound to hear the movements of prey, and some of that carried over into Raphael’s mutated form. Galois is much the same. He has a wider range of hearing than Cass does, and possesses a sharp sense of smell. His eyesight is terrible, however, but Father said that had been something he inherited from his DNA donor. Just a simple mistake, not at all indicative of the integrity of his genetics. Yokai developed intelligence as a substitute for breeding those inadequacies out, he reminds himself. Every species adapts to its conditions, and intelligence and problem-solving was theirs. Vision correction was just his adaptation.

Father moves down to the table they’re sitting at as Galois fills out Raphael’s medical history and other bits of information they’ll need for the records. Raphael goes a bit stiffer when he does, but he relaxes after a few minutes. There was no problem. Nobody was fighting. Everything was…fine.

“You know,” Raphael says in between answering Galois’s questions. “You can call me Raph.”

“That’s nice to know, Raphael.”

“Is there something I can call you? A nickname?”

“You may call me Galois,” Galois says as his pencil scratches against the page. “That is my name.”

“It’s just…long.”

“It’s three syllables. The same as yours.”

“I…yeah. Okay.”

Galois moves down to the diet portion of the form. “How do you normally eat? Is there anything we should know?”

“Oh. Um-”

“An alligator snapping turtle’s natural diet is comprised almost entirely of meat,” Father says without looking up from his book. “Fish and snails and frogs, even other turtles.”

“My brother told me that once. I was scared to hug any of them for weeks.” Raphael looks embarrassed then.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Galois says, taking the break from writing to sharpen his pencil. “The amount of turtles in their diet is likely overestimated. Their diet is mostly guesswork based on the contents of their stomach, but turtle shells would naturally take longer to digest and would accumulate in the stomach.”

“Your brothers seem to subsist on crash diets of carbs and sugars. Do you adhere to this strange dietary religion, or should I assume you showcase more exemplary eating habits?”

“I…yeah, I guess. I eat more of everything. A lot of rice. Um. Pizza, obviously-”

“Carbs.” His father practically spits the word. “It will fill you up, but it certainly doesn’t provide you with the nutrition you need. Your brothers can subsist on a more mixed diet, but you are a carnivore.” Father keeps writing. “Galois is much the same, his body relies on a more protein-rich diet than that of myself or Cassandra.”

“Tigerclaw is more like us,” Galois says, turning back a few pages. “He goes nuts over a good steak. And milk, but that’s because he was lactose intolerant before he was mutated.”

“You will eat more meat in my house. Less carbs, more protein-rich foods, a balance of vitamins and minerals. Hmm.” Father taps his chin. “I will have to up the weekly grocery budget. Meat is getting more expensive now, and eggs. We could substitute nuts to an extent, but only as a supplementary source. You both need real meat.”

“Raphael is allergic to peanuts,” Galois says offhandedly.

“Oh, he is? That’s unfortunate, I’ll-”

“How do you know that?!”

Raphael is staring at him. Galois stops writing out his labels to look up at him.

“Your brother told me,” he says slowly. “Michelangelo.”

“...Oh.” Raphael’s shoulders deflate, and Galois bites his tongue.

“Is it a severe allergy, Raphael?” Father asks.

“Um…kind of. It doesn’t kill me or nothing. My throat feels all swollen and stuff, but not so much I can’t breathe. It’s just harder to breathe. And it hurts.”

“Does it only happen with direct contact, or with cross-contamination?”

“I mean, sometimes and sometimes not? I haven’t really had issues with cross stuff, but sometimes just smelling it-that might just be in my head though, what’s that word…”

“Psychosomatic,” Galois replies.

“Unfortunate.” Father keeps writing. “Peanut butter has been a good way for me to get protein into Galois when he gets fussy about eating. I will be getting rid of all of it, of course, and I’ll have Huginn and Muninn do a deep clean of all the cookware to ensure there are no allergens left over.”

“Oh, you don’t-” Raphael looks down. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? It doesn’t serve me at all for you to go into anaphylactic shock on my kitchen floor.”

“Yokai are actually very prone to allergies,” Galois tells him. “Our immune systems are incredibly aggressive, and that manifests in them attacking harmless invaders quite often.”

“Yes, and if you were younger I could put you on a regiment to gradually introduce the allergen into your system and eliminate the allergy response.” Father bounces his pen on the page. “With the severity you’re already expressing, I’m hesitant to start you on that now. There are potions that can suppress the effects, but they could very well harm your developing immune system. I cannot in good faith use them on you while you’re still growing. No, we can revisit this if I think of something else. I’ll make sure I have potions on hand to treat anaphylaxis. Just in case.”

“Do you know your hatch date, Raphael?”

“Oh. Um.” Raphael rubs the back of his neck. “August third. 2003.”

Father snorts. Galois turns to look at him, but he doesn’t look up.

“Is that your actual hatch date?”

“...No. Dad guessed our birthdays.”

“Do you know your mutation date?”

“No.”

“The rat’s story puts it around early 2005,” Father says. “Raphael was almost certainly not a year and a half old, he would have been over a foot long. Lou Jitsu would not have considered that a juvenile turtle, plus he would have eaten his brothers before mutation.”

He sees Raphael gulp.

“Well, I’m going to put it down as 3/8/03. You can correct that later if you’d like.”

“It will suffice for now.”

“Alright, and do you know your sex?”

“Uh.” Raphael raises one of his hairless eyebrow ridges. “I’m a dude?”

“That’s gender, not sex. And for the record, homophobia isn’t really a thing down here and no one whatsoever will care if you choose to partake in gender tomfoolery of any kind, but I am asking for biological sex. You received a set of XY chromosomes from Lou Jitsu, correct?”

“Oh! Yes.” Raphael nods. “Leo actually just tested our DNA, all three of us had XY. But, uh, he mentioned that you had an extra one of those? And he was kind of concerned, but-”

“When did Leonardo run a DNA test on my son?” Father asks insistently.

“When, um. The thing before the last thing. Leo got a swab-”

“Oh, right, when you abducted my son and held him captive in your home. And apparently extracted his genetic material without his consent.”

“He faked the results to hell, it was all bull.” Galois waves his hand. “It’s no big deal.”

“But you had an extra one. Leo said you had two Xs and a Y.”

“I do not have two X chromosomes. What he probably saw was the Z chromosome I received from the apalone s. spinifera that makes up my turtle genes. They are quite large, as is the X chromosome. In his inexperience he must have assumed that’s what it was.”

“In his defense,” Father says. “He learned from human textbooks. He wouldn’t be familiar with Yokai and mutant sex determination systems.”

“That is correct. But your brother was still mistaken. In effect, it’s much the same, it’s an aneuploid genetic disorder and presents itself much like XXY syndrome presents in human males. But it isn’t the same thing.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not in the slightest. Aside from a few abnormalities in my figure, the biggest complication has been a slight decrease in bone density.” He turns a page. “And infertility, but that was already unlikely given this whole situation.”

“...Am I infertile too?”

“Most gen-zero mutants are,” Father says. “I can always check if you’d like. But since you haven’t reached full maturity yet, there’s a significant chance that any tests I run will result in a false negative. Unfortunately, you will likely have to wait and see.”

“That’s…that’s okay, that’s better than I thought.” Raphael nods. “So why did you get extra chromosomes but we didn’t? I mean, we’re all turtles, so that would make sense, right?”

“Spiny softshells are an outlier in the turtle world. Alligator snapping turtles use temperature-dependent sex determination, as do the species of both your brothers. Your turtle bodies had no sex chromosomes whatsoever, you only have the one set of XY chromosomes passed down from Lou Jitsu at the moment of your mutation. You-” Galois points his pencil eraser across the table. “I’d say you were male because you were kept at a high temperature, but truthfully you could have been female prior to mutation. Actually, that begs the question. Do you have entirely male genitalia?”

“Um. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s really…normal.” Raphael looks down at the floor. “You’re, um. You probably want to…”

“It would be wise to allow me to do a pelvic exam,” Father says bluntly.

“...Yeah. Okay.”

Raphael just keeps his eyes on his floor. Father stays silent.

Galois glances at him. Only for a second.

Father clears his throat. “If you would like to wait until you feel more comfortable with me, we can do that. It is not of utmost urgency.”

“A scan might also be sufficient,” Galois says. “It would involve taking imagery of your genitalia, however, and the scans still might not be clear. Just so you know.”

“Won’t my blood tell you whether I’m a guy or not?”

“Your blood will tell us you have XY chromosomes. For most humans this is sufficient, but even among them there are many outliers. When it comes to mutants and especially gen-zero mutants, things can get complicated. It’s very common for us to be intersex to some degree.”

“As I said, it is not urgent Raphael. But as I am taking over your medical care, it really is something I should know.”

“His medical records might actually have that information.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Father turns to him. “I didn’t even think about that, but they probably took abdominal and pelvic scans.”

“I’ll see what they have. Did you want to wait for that, Raphael? My father will definitely know better than whatever hacks they had doing your exam over at Hypatia.”

Even though he’s not sure what the big deal is. Father is a physician, their physician. He’s seen them all naked. What does Raphael think will happen when he’s injured and needs a catheter put in?

“Um. Can I think about it?”

“Of course.” Father nods. “What else do we have left? The dental exam, I will do that in a bit, I’ll need to take more scans of his mouth-oh, did you get the bone marrow?”

“Not yet. Let me finish filling this out first.” Galois flips to the next page. “You know, you could have done this section first.”

“But you like filling out forms so much.”

“I do.” He sighs dramatically.

“Are you guys-” Raphael’s eyes dart between them. “Joking?”

“Yes, I think fathers are physically unable to restrain themselves from making dumb jokes. A universal constant.” He turns the page back. “Oh, I’ll get this from your samples so it’s no big deal if you don’t, but do you know your blood type?”

“I do actually! O negative. One of the mutant nurse people got super excited when he found out we all had O negative blood, until our witch doctor friend said that our mutation would make us incompatible with human blood.”

“It’s not that their bodies would reject it,” Father says. “But the low levels of empyrean active in your bloodstream would poison them. It would poison many Yokai as well, to a lesser degree. Our blood typing system goes a bit more in depth, but you’ll learn about that in time.”

“It’s interesting,” Galois says. “Lou Jitsu is of Ainu descent, and O is the most common blood type among them. Granted, he’s not pure Ainu, but still.”

“Being Rh negative might account for the low birthrate the Hamato family has generally exhibited,” Father muses. “Even looking far back in the records, most generations only had one or two children. Which was not the norm in human society. Granted, their children had an extraordinarily high rate of living to adulthood, but that was still quite risky in the days before smallpox eradication. Difficult as well, in a time before birth control.”

“Your parents only had the two kids,” Galois points out.

“We had a greater understanding of contraception even then. Also my mother died long before her childbearing years were over.”

“How would being negative-” Raphael waves his hand. “You know? Do that?”

“An Rh negative mother with a Rh positive child may develop antibodies that attack the growing child,” Galois explains. “Considering how Rh negative blood types are far rarer than positive ones, especially in east Asia, chances are most of their selected spouses were Rh positive. If the offspring took after their Rh positive father, their mother’s antibodies would cause a miscarriage.”

“That would account for the female heirs’ infertility, not the male ones,” Father says. “From my research, the Hamato clan practiced absolute primogeniture. The firstborn child of each generation was generally the one to inherit the position as head of the clan, regardless of sex or legitimacy. Quite unusual for fourteenth century Japan.”

“Dad said they married their cousins a lot,” Raphael said. “Like, mostly second and third cousins, but our grandma was supposed to marry her first cousin.”

“Yes, that’s very common in many parts of the world, especially in more rural areas. There are actually many benefits to a certain degree of consanguinity. Hmm.”

“Are you thinking about advantageous recessive alleles?” Galois asks bluntly.

“It would certainly explain Lou Jitsu’s nearly inhuman genetic prowess. But the chances of the Hamato line participating in assortative breeding to that degree without creating an inbreeding depression…” Father presses his fingers to his chin. “It would be astronomically unlikely, but even one in a billion chances mean it’s likely to happen to seven people.”

“Eight, actually.”

“Oh, have the humans hit eight billion already?”

“Very close. Estimates put it at next year, but that’s also before factoring in the coronavirus. And us.”

“What blood type do you have?” Raphael asks, shifting uncomfortably.

“I’m O negative as well. Father has a nonhuman blood type, like he said you’ll learn about them when you start your studies.”

“Huh. Weird that you have the same blood type,” Raphael says flatly. Galois rolls his eyes.

“Roughly thirteen percent of the world has O negative blood.”

“But hardly anyone in Japan, right?”

“So? Nothing says that I’m genetically Japanese. And even if my donor was, Japan comprises well over a hundred and twenty million people.”

“Raphael,” Father says in a warning tone.

“I’m just saying it’s a coincidence. That you chose someone so much like my dad to-”

“We’re not doing this again.” Galois shuts the booklet. “The numbing agent should be working now.”

“I’m not trying to make you mad,” Raphael says. “I’m just saying-”

“Well, stop.” Galois gets to his feet. “I’m sound of mind and I don’t appreciate you doubting my perceptions.” He turns away, ignoring the green hand he sees reaching for him out of the corner of his eye.

“Donnie-”

And then he screams.

Galois whirls around. Raphael’s hands clamp over the collar, his eyes bugging out of his skull and breathing hard.

Father just stares at him. Impassive. “I warned you,” he says flatly. Almost smugly. “The intensity is still set to one, but it will shock you at an intensity of three if you violate the name rule.”

“Father-” Galois starts, but Father merely holds up his hand.

“I will not allow him to say that name in your presence. That is not your name, Galois.”

“I know that. He’s just being stupid.”

“I forgot,” Raphael rasps. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, well-” Father shuts his book with a clap. “Remember.”

Raphael is quiet as Galois takes the bone marrow samples, barely a wrinkle in his nose at the pain. Father is absorbed in something at the next table over. Galois lays the syringes on the table, busying himself with moving tools and bits around. He bites his lip, glancing over.

“Happy birthday,” he says quietly, stupidly.

Raphael raises his tired brown eyes to meet his. It almost looks like he wants to smile. But of course, he doesn’t.

“Thanks.”