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leebrontide · 1 year ago

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Secondhand Origin Stories, Chapter 9

Here's this week's chapter! Reblogs welcome!

For those of you just joining us, I'm posting a chapter a week of my free near future scifi/low neon cyberpunk YA/NA novel, Secondhand Origin Stories, which has been described as

"-a character driven, compelling story full of family, queerness, corruption, brain altering nanites, secretly teen parenting AIs, and taking aspects of the superhero genre to their very human and rarely-explored natural conclusions."

For content warnings and more, check here:

You can follow along by following #SHOSweekly

Chapter 9

Martin’s voice in the elevator was enough to put Opal on edge again. The unexpectedly plush chairs of the clinic waiting room weren’t enough to fix it. The staff here all seemed so grim, somehow. And up this high, the sound of the storm blanketed every other noise with the static, as if it was keeping secrets in the constant shushes of rain and the grumbles of thunder.

She’d settled on calling her mom. Mom’s ridiculous sheep-patterned pajamas and her enthusiasm for Shani’s history project helped. Apparently Opal would be getting a lengthy account of it whenever she managed to reach Shani between summer sleepovers.

“Everyone still treating you all right?”

Opal smiled, trying to get comfortable. “Aldis and the guys have been great. You got the pictures I sent you of the VIP suite? Oh! Did I tell you Capricorn said he thinks I have grit? And Helix agreed with him.” She couldn’t mention the rest of it-- not here, at least. She couldn’t make up her mind what she really should say.

“Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you. Are they as handsome in person as on TV?”

Opal laughed. “Mom. They’re all like, 40 and up.”

“And that might as well be a hundred to an 18-year-old. Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, have you--”

“I still haven’t heard from your dad. I promise I’ll let you know the minute I do. But you know how this goes. Any little thing.” And they’d revoke his phone “privileges.” It’d been months, once or twice before. Then he’d reappear, looking a little older, a little less steady, chastising Opal for having worried. She hadn’t gotten any letters, either. It was never good when he couldn’t even send letters. But she’d sent hers. She hoped he got them.

She glanced up as a familiar figure ghosted through the edge of Opal’s line of sight. “Jamie?” Jamie turned, looking haunted. “Hey, Mom. I’m sorry, but I’ll call you later, OK?”

Martin had said there was a family emergency. If Jamie was down here, it must be a bad one.

Jamie was, impossibly, paler than usual. She seemed almost blue. Her posture was hunched, as if she was expecting to have to bolt at any second, with her elbows pulled in tight against her body. She also seemed to be by herself. “Hey, are you OK?”

“I’m trying to find Issac’s doctor, but they just keep telling me to go wait with…I need to tell them what happened with Issac. I’m the only one who was there.”

A nice, straightforward request. Opal stood, flagging down the nearest medical professional who didn’t seem to be rushing. She put on her most professional tone. “Excuse me. Ms. Tillman-Voss needs to speak with the treating physician for Issac Tillman-Voss right away. She has important information relevant to his condition she needs to share.” Hanging around Mom’s job when she was little had given her a few tricks, at least.

The woman nodded, and led them to a nurse’s station before disappearing to find the doctor.

“Ms. Tillman-Voss?” Jamie asked under her breath. “I think they think you’re my bodyguard now.”

Bodyguard? She’d been going for PR intern. “Whatever works,” she muttered back.

Jamie’s smile was tiny and wobbly. “You do look really grown-up in that.”

“You look like you’re going to faint. You’re not, are you? My mom’s a nurse, but I am very much not.”

“No. I need to talk to the doctor.”

“Are you going to faint after that?”

“I hope not. They won’t treat me here. I’m not altered.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure if LodeStar’s kid faints in their waiting room, they’ll pull something together.”

Jamie muttered under her breath, “Not sure he’d care.”

That didn’t sound good. The doctor showed up before Opal could ask, and then she was too busy keeping up with the story Jamie was telling. Every bit of which sounded 100% illegal. By the end of it, Jamie’s voice was painful to even listen to, it was so high-pitched and breathless, but Jamie pushed through. She even brought them a copy of a thesis Issac had written on the subject. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so horrifying. Brain-changing nanites? You didn’t have to try to think of all the ways that could be misused.

The doctor rushed off as soon as Jamie was done.

Opal was hit with more doubt than she’d ever had before. What and who had she gotten mixed up with? OK, the Sentinels as a family struggling to cope, she could understand. But a family that attempted to cope by developing more and scarier technology, and testing it on themselves in secret?

Then again, that was how Bion had started. But that was back before altering tech laws had been around. Issac must have known what he was doing was illegal. He should even know why it needed to be illegal. His family took down people conducting illegal alterations all the time.

But maybe those rules didn’t apply to their son.

She shivered. Exactly how many rules didn’t apply to them?

Jamie didn’t notice Opal’s existential crisis. She was staring down the hallway towards the handful of private waiting rooms like she was expecting a firing squad. She took a tiny, unconscious step backwards, towards Opal.

And all Opal could remember was Jamie’s comment that nobody would even notice another couple of bruises on her. All three of the kids seemed incredibly isolated. How many laws could the Sentinels get out of?

Opal put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. Leaned in to ask quietly, “Are you OK?”

Jamie didn’t look at her. But she pressed her lips so tight they almost vanished. Her eyes were pink. She shook her head, still staring down the hall.

Maybe it was nothing. Jamie’d had a terrible morning by anyone’s standards.

Maybe it wasn’t nothing.

Jamie started, looking at Opal. “My dad! He needs a doctor, too. If he’s in the waiting room, then they must not know. His collarbone’s broken.”

“What? How did that happen?”

“Yael.” Jamie said, flinching as she realized too late that that was bound to beg questions. “There was a-- xe was afraid he-- but that doesn’t matter. He needs a doctor!”

This time it was even easier to get someone’s attention, but Jamie was a lot lighter on the details. She didn’t even mention Yael. Whatever had happened, she was less likely to explain it than she was Issac’s breach of international laws. Nobody pressed her for more details. Doctors rushed to help the injured superhero, and Opal and Jamie stayed put.

Neil Voss passed by a few minutes later, escorted by a nervous-looking medical person and Capricorn. Capricorn looked grim, and had a hand on LodeStar’s arm. LodeStar ignored Opal completely, his attention stitched tightly to his daughter as he passed. Neither of them said anything to the other.

Jamie watched him with her own intensity, and a disquieting stillness. LodeStar looked half possessed. His eyes burned blood-red where the whites should have been. His steps were unsteady and slow, but the muscles in his shoulders were coiled, prepared to strike, his hands working themselves into huge metallic fists. Flexing again. Stretching, as if he was imagining grabbing something. Opal had never seen anyone more terrifying in her life.

He was cordoned off in another room after what felt like an eternity. The two of them both exhaled at the same time.

Oh God. Opal was in a Gothic novel. And the head of the house was as powerful and utterly unhinged as any she’d ever read. And she’d spent the last...more than two weeks now, trying to move into his house, work under his orders? This was not going to work. She could never trust the orders of someone like that. She could never hurt or arrest anyone on his say-so. She didn’t even want to be in the same room with him.

She’d go home. Go back to Detroit. Save up, and try another team, later. They couldn’t all be like him, could they?

Jamie sat suddenly, barely catching a chair instead of landing on the floor. She was struggling to catch her breath.

Shit. None of the doctors had even looked at Jamie. No one was going to check in on what was happening in LodeStar’s home. What made Jamie look like that? What drove her brother to experiment on himself, rather than have something he might see as a vulnerability in that household?

Opal reached for the only failsafe she could think of close by. “Hey, maybe we should go find your mom?”

Jamie cringed, but nodded, dragging herself back upright. Opal followed close behind, hoping to find some kind of resolution.

* * *

Issac drifted in and out of consciousness several times. Reality had turned slippery, and even awake, he couldn’t seem to grasp hold of it. This time, when he woke, the ground under him felt a little more solid. Time felt a little more linear.

He kept his eyes closed, trying to shut out reality. Trying not to notice what he couldn’t detect. He tried to focus inward. His mouth and tongue hurt, as if he’d cut them. A seizure, he remembered. Someone had told him he’d had a seizure, one of the other times he’d been awake. He must have bitten himself. His mouth tasted like blood.

He shifted his attention again, but his body was no refuge. His pulse was speeding; his back hurt like hell. There was a needle in his arm. His torso was canted upwards. Another hospital bed.

More missing monitor noise.

His mind had never been good at silence. He’d never been able to get it to shut up. To stop noticing.

Then again, at least it was still working right. At least he did still notice things.

At least he’d woken up.

Tears pricked at his closed eyes. He’d failed. Air escaped his lungs unevenly, and he sucked it back in, straining against ribs that whined about it, just like the last time.

Whoever was in the room with him-- there must be someone-- didn’t notice his tears or any unwanted noises. There was no touch to his hand or face. No anything. If he wanted something, he’d have to signal it. He’d have to open his eyes and face whoever was there.

He pried open crusty, itchy eyes. This time, his vision landed first on his own paper-clad lap.

There was a card in his hand in unfamiliar handwriting. Issac - you have had a seizure. Some confusion is normal. It will go away in a while. Please stop trying to remove the monitoring equipment. Your family will return soon.

Soon? None of them were even in here with him? He looked up.

There was a man in the room. He was wearing a three-piece suit in brownish gray, with graying, sand-colored hair, and a severely bleached smile plastered on his face. He was sitting in the chair between Issac and the door with his ankle on his knee. As if this was a perfectly normal way to meet someone.

This was not a doctor.

Issac gasped as his vision developed sudden spots. Black fractured the image in front of him.

It was text. Good afternoon, Mr. Tillman-Voss.

Issac was wearing contacts. Revulsion rolled through him. He wanted to pull them off. He couldn’t stand the thought of touching them. Either the stranger knew he had them, or he thought Issac could hear. The man stood, still smiling. He reached into his blazer pocket, producing a little slip of paper. He walked the few paces between them, holding it out. A business card. Before Issac could read it, more text crowded the image out. I’m Frank Lasansky of Lasansky Security Technologies. Sorry if I’m catching you at a bad time.

A bad time? Issac wasn’t even wearing pants. How did these contacts end up on his eyes? Where was his family? I heard a while back about what happened to you and I think that’s a shame. Just a real shame. Still smiling. Issac would have punched the guy if he was more confident in his ability to stand up without falling down. There was something off about him-- a fakeness that went beyond his over-bleached teeth. Issac took the business card, but kept watching the man’s face.

It didn’t move right. Some kind of partial paralysis?

And I thought, there’s a young man I’d like to meet. And my lucky day, I come to find out you’re in this very building when I am! Well, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that, could I? Huh? Right?

Issac didn’t know what else to do, so he shook his head “no.” Did this guy not know Issac lived in this building? How could he possibly not know that? It was Sentinel Plaza.

Lasansky. That name was familiar.

The weird smile stretched wider. Great! Glad to hear it. Because I am just dying to chat with you about those nanites of yours. Issac went cold. The nanites. He must be from the APB? Maybe he was here to take Issac away. Issac felt an irrational urge to check to make sure all his arms and legs were still attached. That they hadn’t been replaced with weaker models. He knew better, and he was being watched. Now, I already heard that this trial didn’t work out. That’s why I took the liberty of providing you with some hardware to help us out in our little chat. He tapped the space next to his eye, looking pleased with himself.

Issac recoiled. He would have assumed that either his parents or a nurse had put the contacts on him. That would have been bad enough. But to think that this random businessman had been touching Issac while he was either asleep or too out of it to have a say sent a spiky, electric chill up his spine. OK, he had his legs, but it felt that much closer to Jenna's fate, all the same.

Lasansky continued, either oblivious to Issac's alarm or electing to ignore it. But hey, these things happen. You can’t get it right on your first try every time, right? Issac wondered whether he was supposed to shake his head again, but this time Lasansky didn’t wait. I want you to know I’m not going to judge you for that. You know? I want you to hear that it’s not your fault. You didn’t have backup. No support. No team.

Issac's horror ebbed a little, and he tried to shove it down faster. Don’t think about his eyes. This was obvious, and well-thought-out, flattery. This total stranger knew exactly what Issac wanted to hear. The polar opposite of what he’d be forced to sit through whenever his parents showed up to replace the stranger.

Why was he flattering Issac?

Issac studied the man. The suit was high-end, and almost perfectly tailored, but cut a little too big in the shoulders. There was the smallest of silver roots visible at his hairline. His hands looked noticeably older than his face.

Ah. His face. He’d had too much Botox, too many face-lifts, or both. That’s why his expressions seemed off. Everything about him was pretending.

Lasansky. Lasansky. He knew that name.

But a little birdie gave me some good news. Word on the street is, it’s your biggest birthday today! He leaned in conspiratorially. Issac leaned in, too, as if it mattered what volume the man spoke at. You’re a free man, Mr Tillman. The world is your oyster.

A free man. So, not arrested, anyway. Lasansky stood. Now I know this is irregular, God knows it’s not usually how we run things at Lasansky Security International, but you, young man, are special. I couldn’t run the chance of them squirreling you away in the attic all alone without my having spoken to you, first.

Of him being sent away like Jenna.

Mr. Tillman, I am here to make you an offer. Because the problem with working for the family business is, you have to work for your family! You have to be the baby at work and at home. Have your boss at the dinner table. Be constantly surrounded by people who have what they think are your best interests at heart, but who, deep down, can’t appreciate you for the adult that you are! Now the fact that you had to run this all by yourself tells me that they already gave you the vote of no confidence. They only see Issac the boy, not Issac the man. But I have seen your patent list, and I am ready to give you my full vote of confidence. I believe in your tech. I believe there’s a need for it, and I believe that with the right support, you can deliver your gift to the world. I am prepared to offer you just that support.

This stranger-- this fake man in a thousand-dollar suit-- understood. Had grasped the whole dynamic of the situation without ever even meeting Issac. Issac glanced down briefly, thinking, and his eyes landed on perfectly shined shoes with a subtly higher-than-average heel. Trying to look tall.

Lasansky was the head of what had to be a huge, heavily politically-connected company, but even he had to pretend to be taller, healthier, younger than he was. No wonder he could understand Issac’s need to fix himself. Even Lasansky wasn’t high enough in the hierarchy to risk exposing even the smallest, most irrelevant weaknesses, like wrinkles or narrower shoulders.

Well, even Mom wore tall shoes and sought the occasional nip and tuck, didn’t she? She just wore it better, or maybe invested more.

If even the people at the top-- everyone who wasn’t altered-- had to protect themselves with artificial health and height, where did that leave someone with an actual weakness?

Lasansky approached the tilted hospital bed. Issac had to crane his neck back to keep watching him. He smiled down at Issac with gleaming teeth. Mr. Tillman, how would you like to join the Lasansky Securities family?

* * *

Time bled by Yael at an agonizing crawl. Xe didn’t know how long xe’d been sitting on the cool tile floor of xyr bedroom, not really seeing anything. Xyr back was still against the door, where it was easiest to hear Papa not coming after xyr, not trying to argue through the door. Xe’d let xyr mind go blank, listening to that silence.

When xyr phone went off, Yael jumped so hard xe banged xyr head against the door. Xe grabbed the phone out of xyr pocket, answering to stop its intrusion. Xe forgot all about Papa for a moment when xe realized it was Issac. Or, at least, Issac's phone.

“Hello?” xe asked cautiously, not sure who to expect on the other end.

Issac himself answered. “Yeah. Uhm. Hi.”

Yael's head dropped back, hitting the door with another bang. “You’re OK. You’re OK, right? Oh my Gosh, can you hear me? You’re on the phone!”

There was a pause. “I…no. I have translation software. I can’t hear you.”

“Sorry it didn’t work.” And xe was, a little. Mostly, xe was happy he was conscious, coherent and alive. Now they just had to get through the fallout with the APB. Nodiah wasn’t going to be happy.

Issac didn’t even try to hide his discomfort, which was refreshing. “Yeah.” Yael looked behind xyr, as if xe could see through the door. Xe had no idea where Papa was, if he was hearing all of this. “I need your help.”

Yael crossed xyr legs, straightening. Trying not to think about how “helping” him this morning had gone. “What do you need?”

“An escort? I, uhm. I got a job. Just now.” Yael pulled the phone away from xyr ear, and stared at it, baffled. Was Issac actually coherent? “I know that’s weird. But it’s this guy who works with the APB, and he actually believes in my research. Wants to use it to help people.” Official approval! Thank heaven. Issac would be safe, now. Problems were knocking themselves out left and right.

“I’m eighteen. I can move out, any time I want to. They can’t stop me. But it’s like… I’ll have to live in just like…a place. Just standard security systems. I’d feel better if you came along, too. You’re almost eighteen. Can you?” A flicker of hesitation. “Will you?”

Yael rushed the phone back to xyr ear, glancing back against the door again. Hopefully Papa hadn’t heard that.

Xyr first impulse was to tell Issac “no.” He was hurt. He needed his family. He needed to be protected, here at home.

Except now, home wasn’t safe, either. He needed safety and family. Maybe Yael really was his best bet for both. Papa wasn’t listening to Yael-- maybe none of the others would, either.

“On one condition. We have to bring Jamie, too. We can’t leave her here.” Xe hoped Melissa would protect her, but if nobody but Yael saw the danger--

“What? I. But. I mean. If she wants to…You think she would? But she’s sixteen.”

“We have to try.”

“Uh. Sure. Try away.”

“Is…Your mom isn’t with you, now.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re alone?”

“I…I guess they came in earlier. I don’t remember.”

“Have you seen Neil?”

“I guess.”

“Jamie?”

“I don’t remember, OK? Seizures can do that. Just…pack up. I’ll get home when I can to do the same.” He said his goodbyes, which Yael echoed in a haze, then hung up.

Moving out? Xe’d never planned to leave. Xyr room had always just evolved with xyr. This was Yael’s home.

But a home wasn’t such a big thing to sacrifice for your brother and sister.

Xe heard shuffling outside. Papa’s normally light footfalls were slow and plodding, either because he was just that tired, or to warn xyr he was coming.

The handle beside xyr head turned, and Yael looked over at it as the door tried to shift inward. Yael was more than heavy enough to keep it closed.

Papa’s voice was muffled, but only a little bit irritated. “Yael, I’ve bought you a very large bed, two futons, and an office chair. Why do you insist on sitting on the floor?”

Xe didn’t even bother to pretend to be angry. “I’m being a barricade.”

“Well, stop being a barricade and go back to being my daughter. I need to talk to her.”

Maybe it was just because xe was so upset about everything else, but xe was suddenly annoyed by his misgendering, and didn’t watch xyr tongue. “I’m not your daughter.”

Shit! Yael’d said it before thinking, then realized how Papa would hear it. Xe scrambled to xyr feet and threw the door open.

He was standing there, half turned from the door, his expression a broken attempt at stoicism. He met xyr eyes with a piercing, angry gaze and a mouth that tugged down at the corners, obviously hurt.

This time xyr blurted words did better. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant-- ugh. You’ve heard Jamie and Issac use non-gendered pronouns for me for five months now. Take a hint!”

The pain in his expression cleared, some, replaced by sincere confusion. “You never asked me to call you that.”

“I thought it would be obvious.”

“I didn’t want to assume. Sometimes siblings have things they don’t want to share with-- I was trying not to intrude!” He shook his head. “This is absurd. Yael, aren’t we having enough fights today? Let’s put this on hold.”

Surprisingly diplomatic of him, even if he was sidestepping something important to xyr. Xe tried to stay calm. Xe crossed xyr arms. “All right. Which fight do you want to have first?”

Papa replied with an exasperated, but not entirely unamused sigh, and stepped forward. Xe let him in. He paused. “How about the one about how your room looks like you’re afraid of drawers, closets and boxes?”

“Really?”

He shoved over a pile of hoodies and sat on one of the futons. “No.” He rubbed his face.

The silence stretched out. Papa was lost in thought. Yael collapsed onto the opposite futon, toying with the corduroy.

Finally he looked to xyr. “Which do you want to start with?”

Yael spread xyr hands helplessly, shaking xyr head. Xe had no idea how to untangle all of this. But xe didn’t want him to leave.

Xe didn’t want to leave.

To xyr amusement, he pulled out a coin. He looked at xyr. “Heads, your fight with Neil, tails, the…the other thing.”

Xe nodded, and he flipped the coin, catching it and slapping it to his hand. “Heads,” he announced.

They looked at each other, bracing for a fight neither of them wanted to have. “Tell me what happened. I won’t say anything until you’ve finished. Just this once.”

Too good an offer to pass up. “Issac was following in his father’s and Jenna's and Drew's footsteps. He decided to fight his limitations directly, and he had the science. He limited the MARTIN sensors and used his nanites to try to repair his audio nerve.” Xe refused to look ashamed. “Jamie and I helped him, and kept his secret. And I am not sorry we did.” That was much easier to say now that xe knew he really was OK. “He has the right to try to better himself.”

Xe couldn’t read Papa’s reaction, so xe just kept going. “But he had a seizure, Jamie used the failsafe, and we called for help. The EMTs got Issac, and Drew went with them, and as soon as Neil and Jamie and I were alone, he started shouting at her, and then he lunged for her. I intercepted him and tried to make him back off. He wouldn’t. That’s pretty much when you came in.”

Papa might not have interrupted, but now he was shaking his head. “You misinterpreted. You were upset and you misunderstood.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there!” xe challenged.

“Neil wouldn’t. He adores Jamie. He loves all of you kids.” Yael shook xyr head, glaring daggers at the floor as he continued. “You’ve known him your whole life. You know he would never hurt any of you.”

“I’ve been trying to believe in that, and in him. This whole time I’ve been trying. But he’s not the man I grew up with. That man would never abandon Issac for days at a time like this. Not for any reason. And today-- I’ve seen enough film of your missions to know he can kill with less rage than that. I wouldn’t let anyone looking like that near Jamie or Issac.”

Xe readied for arguments and shouting yet again. Instead, Papa looked distracted and troubled.

Deep down, part of Yael wanted to be wrong. Even hurting Neil unfairly would be better than Neil being a real danger to Jamie. Neil would heal. If he was the person Yael thought xe remembered, he would even forgive.

But Papa had stopped arguing. Xe couldn’t imagine a more hollow victory.

They sat in painful silence for a moment.

“I…I’ll talk to him. And Melissa,” he promised.

“There’s more.”

He looked horrified. “More? How could there possibly be more?” Realization dawned. “The phone call.”

“It was Issac.”

“Well then, that’s good!”

Xe nodded, hesitantly. “Yes, that’s good,” xe hedged. “You know it’s his birthday.”

“What a birthday.”

“He’s eighteen. He called me to say he’s not coming back, except to pack his things. He’s moving out. And he sure is Melissa’s son, because he’s somehow landed himself a job since this morning.”

Papa’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

Yael threw up xyr hands. “It wasn’t my idea!”

“Well, tell him not to!”

“When has that ever worked? At least it’s APB-backed, so he won’t get arrested for this morning.”

“He can’t just go out there, alone.”

Here it was. “He won’t be alone.” Yael gulped, but raised xyr chin. “I’m going with him.”

Papa rocketed to his feet.“The hell you are!” All his bombastic energy was back from before. “This is absurd! We had a fight! That is no reason. No. Reason.”

Yael didn’t have it in xyr now to fight about this. Instead, xe kept xyr voice low, which had the surprising effect of making Papa pause. “I know. I’m not going to get away from you. I’m going to protect him. Because he shouldn’t go out there alone.”

“I forbid it.”

“Then be prepared to fight me with real force every single day. Be prepared to break my legs faster than they can heal, because that’s what it’ll take.”

Papa was visibly repulsed. “This is no time for dramatics.”

“I’m being sincere. I know you don’t have a lot of recent practice with honesty, but try and remember what it sounds like. If you’re not willing to go that far, then you won’t keep me here. And you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to! You’re my--” Xe had to hand it to him; he stopped before ‘daughter’ this time. He was trying. “Family. And you belong here.”

“Do you want to leave Issac unprotected? Out there? He’s your family. He’s hurt. Are you going to abandon him?”

“This is madness.”

“I told you that I’d defend them. From anyone and anything. I meant that.” Not a hero’s oath, but the one that came from xyr heart.

“What about Jamie?”

“I don’t know yet. But you’ll protect her, won’t you?”

Papa sank down on the futon, hands over his eyes. “There is nothing about this that I don’t hate.”

“But you will.”

He scowled at the ceiling from behind his hand. “Yes, of course I will.”

Silence swallowed them up, and Yael noticed the rain for the first time. Rain was supposed to cleanse. Yael didn’t feel cleansed, but at least some things between them were out. The inside of xyr head felt a little cleaner for it.

Eventually Yael commented, “I think that was the quietest fight we’ve ever had.”

“I think I lost.”

* * *

“Ms. Tillman-Voss? Your brother would like to see you.” The nurse looked at Jamie and Opal, and all the empty chairs in the private waiting room. “Is your mother not here?”

“She went for coffee,” Jamie answered automatically. That had been three hours ago, but it still stood. Jamie had no doubt that wherever Mom was, she’d have a cup of coffee with her. Jamie explaining the morning to Mom hadn’t gone well. Jamie stood, then hesitated, looking back at Opal. “Can you--?”

“I’ll wait here,” Opal assured. It helped. Opal had been sitting with Jamie this whole time, even though Jamie was too full of waiting to be any kind of good company. She’d spent most of the last hour giving Jamie entertaining summaries of Gothic novels with unflattering appraisals of characters’ decision-making abilities. She’d kept it up, even though Jamie didn’t have it in her to laugh at anything right now. They made her almost smile and kept her partially occupied, and that was more than Jamie could have asked for.

Jamie glanced back over her shoulder as she followed the nurse out, getting one more sympathetic smile and encouraging wave from Opal before following the nurse down the same hall her dad had disappeared down three hours ago. She hadn’t seen or heard from him, since. She told herself it was because a broken bone could take a while to treat.

Issac was sitting up, awake and lucid, when Jamie slipped quietly into the room. The nurse shut the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone. His lips weren’t blue. His eyes were focused, if bloodshot. He had on two medical bracelets and a white paper card in each hand. One large, one small. The sensors were still on his forehead. He watched her with trepidation, licking his lips.

Jamie almost tripped over her shoes crossing the space between them. She wrapped both arms around him and pulled him close enough that she could tell that he was warm, that he wasn’t shaking. She tried to make out a heartbeat, but her own heart was pounding too hard. He put one hand on her back, hesitantly. The hand didn’t shake or jerk. It was steady.

She took a deep breath, pulling away, and grabbed his pillow from behind him. She cataloged all the sensors on his head, his sternum, and his wrist bracelet. She aimed for his forearm and stomach, and hit him with the paper-wrapped pillow almost as hard as she could. “Never! Again!”

Issac raised his arms, trying to fend off the unexpected attack, but neglecting to grab the pillow. She gripped it, dragging it off the side of the bed, glaring at him with stinging eyes. Even if he didn’t know what she’d said, he should be able to work out why she was mad.

He was still for a second, hands still raised defensively, not sure whether she’d strike another fluffy vinyl blow. That was fair; she wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to hit him again. She was gratified to see him frantically searching for an appropriate response.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand, and that was enough invitation. She grabbed him in another tight hug, dropping the pillow back on the bed so she could grab him with both hands and be sure she could feel him breathing. “You jerk. I threw up four times because of you. If you ever try that again, next time I’m just going to let you--” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t even finish the thought. Didn’t want the twitching, blue-lipped vision it conjured up. She realized belatedly there was no way he could hold a tablet, because he was actually hugging her back this time. She was just as happy he hadn’t heard her threat. She sniffed hard, trying not to get snot on his paper pajamas, and squeezed him again.

He answered anyway. “I promise not to ask you to do something like that again. Sorry.”

She muttered with her head on his shoulder. “You better not. Practically gave me a heart attack.”

“Liar. Your cardio system is like the only thing on you that halfway works right.”

Jamie startled, letting go. “You heard me!” Oh thank G-d, it was over. Whatever came next, it would all have to work out. Issac's gambit had paid off. Mom and Dad would have to forgive them for it eventually, now. She was almost lightheaded with relief.

“No. I’m wearing the contacts.”

Shit. She could see it cost him to even say it. But seeing him turn red in the face was good. Red wasn’t blue.

“Oh. Well. I’m glad you can use those now. I can’t even tell the difference!” He couldn’t hear her tone, but she was pretty sure it was still unconvincing. Not because it wasn’t true, but because of everything she knew would come with it. She gripped the paper of his hospital gown. “So…are you OK?”

He didn’t look at her this time, watching his own hand tap the sheets. “Well, I’m not dead. There doesn’t seem to be any more brain damage. Still can’t hear. So, mostly the same, I guess. My back hurts,” he added offhandedly. Jamie’s gut flipped, remembering the unnatural looking way it had bowed off the bed. “But I guess…mostly the same.”

He turned his hand over. There was a handwritten notecard in it, in an unfamiliar handwriting. You are in the hospital due to a seizure. Some confusion and soreness-- He closed his hand around the card, then looked at the other card, which seemed to be a business card. He didn’t turn that around, so she couldn’t read it.

“So uhm. I guess my experiment got someone’s attention at the APB--”

Her hand clenched around the paper of his shirt again. She looked down at his wrist. He wasn’t cuffed to the hospital bed or anything. Looked around the room. No sign of any security measures beyond the default.

Issac was OK, but would he stay OK? Would they ship him off to some hellish prison in Detroit? Issac couldn’t make it in a place like that-- hearing or not.

Jamie couldn’t protect him from that. From anything. “We’re at the APB,” she interrupted. He paused, then looked around the room, realizing it was true. “MARTIN called them,” Jamie added furiously. Stupid super-intelligent security system didn’t understand the risk it was putting Issac through.

“Oh. MARTIN.” He was quiet so long she had to squish the urge to bend over and check his eyes, to make sure they weren’t rolled back. Then he took an expansive breath. “Anyway, this guy who works with the APB is interested in my research. He offered me a job.” His eyes skittered up to meet hers. “And I took it.”

They stared at each other. He had the good sense to look a little hangdog. Finally, Jamie spoke, trying to sound as even-keel as possible. “I don’t want this to sound mean, but I think they should scan your brain for injuries again.”

Issac looked supremely unimpressed, but pointed at a monitor with a display that meant nothing to her. “Read all you want. I have.” He held up his phone. “I even got some notes from them.” He shifted, sitting straighter and warming to his subject. “Look, this is what I need. Just…some space to figure things out. Some backup so I can work without…” He gestured at the machinery behind him without actually looking at any of it. Jamie's eyes skimmed along them. There were a lot of them. A lot of things the doctors were worried about.

Legal protection. That was worth a lot. Was it more than their family could provide?

“But you live with Mom,” Jamie attempted to reason. “She owns everything in your lab.”

He frowned. “Well, obviously I’m going to have to move out. That’s fine. I’m old enough.”

Jamie thought of Mom’s torn up cuticles and the cracks in the dark glaze on her nails. This morning, the cracks had been gone, and the plum glaze traded out for a less obvious nude color. Tidied up, but with the expectation of future chips.

“I was going to move out soon, anyway. What’s a few months’ difference?”

“Mom’s going to see a difference.”

“Well, then that’s her problem,” he answered with attempted glibness. Jamie’s heart sank. “Yael wants you to come. With us. Xe’s moving out with me. As a bodyguard kind of thing. I don’t mind. If you want to.”

She made up her mind in an instant. She’d failed Issac once already today. She couldn’t quit now. She nodded, just once, and he seemed both pleased and surprised.

She’d figure this out one way or another.

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