Thomas dressed in his nicest pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, his hands shaking as he slipped each button through the holes. No one else would be joining him as he ventured into the prison, his decision, rather than anyone else’s. The Chimera idled as close as it dared, a tense reenactment of their first visit, and Kenan stood frowning at the window. Lyra stood by his side, her pink cloak draped around her shoulders.

“If this goes south, I’m hiding in my room.” He said. “I am not getting shot again.”

“It was a light graze.” Brie told him with a roll of her eyes. “You were fine.”

“It still hurt.”

“You’ll be careful, right Thomas?” Rowan fretted then turned to Sebastian. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“We’ve had worse.” Sebastian said then added cheerfully. “Besides, it’s not like Thomas has anything to worry about. He’s not dead or an android.”

Thomas flinched but quickly turned away to lace up his shoes. “I know what I’m doing.” He assured.

Sebastian followed him into the docking bay and crossed his arms. “Not that I don’t trust you,” he said, “but there are no more family secrets you’re not sharing, are there?”

Behind Sebastian, a dark shadow flitted from the corner of the room. Thomas kept his eyes on the captain, not letting his eyes wander to the unseen figure. “They wouldn’t be family secrets if I told everyone, now would they?”

“Thomas, we nee--”

“I know. Okay? There’s nothing else. Just…” He turned away and climbed into one of the beta ships, a different one than Kenan and Rowan had taken. “I need to go get my father. You’ll still be here, right?”

Sebastian’s eyes bore into him. “If I wanted to leave you, I’d have done so long before now.” He sniffed and dropped his arms. “Be careful. We’re your family too.”

Thomas tried to ignore the warmth bursting in his chest as he shot out into space, carrying with him the hope of something to return to. The crew on board the Chimera were no doubt watching him from the window, and he thought of Sebastian’s unwavering voice as he called Thomas “family” as if there’d never been any doubt. Despite what he had done. The prison looked more formidable up close, designed to swallow all hope like a swirling black hole in the center of space. Unfeeling and cold.

The keypad was jagged and icy under his fingers as he punched in the code Kenan had given him. A beady-eyed receptionist clacked away at her desk as he strode across the lobby. She didn’t look up until he pointedly cleared his throat. “I’m here to pick up my father. He was wrongfully imprisoned by your incompetent officers.”

“Name?”

“Patrick Graham.”

“No, I mean, your name because you look suspiciously like a young man claiming to be Rowan Graham, a deceased individual your father brought back.”

Thomas glanced at the half-open doors of the offices, the glint of white uniforms just visible in the fluorescent lights. He summoned every bit of his rage and grief, years of it. He slammed his hands onto the desk, startling the portly woman so badly she nearly tumbled from her chair. “Do I look dead to you?” He hissed, trembling. “Both my mother and brother are in the ground, and now you’re wanting to take the only family I have left? And to desecrate my brother’s memory by claiming he’s somehow come back to life? Have you lost your mind? Or simply your decency?”

Rattled, the woman stammered, “I apologize, sir, but your father is being held on suspicion of a very serious crime. We can’t just release him.”

“Where is the proof?”

“There were vials of a suspicious substance found and a workshop full of--”

“He’s an inventor! My God, I had not expected to meet such ineptitude this far into space, but here we are.” Thomas took a deep breath as if trying to compose himself. “Would it help if I gave you a blood sample? My birth certificate, perhaps? My name is Thomas Graham. I’m the oldest son if it helps.”

As if overhearing, a man in a white lab coat hurried out of one of the offices and gestured for Thomas to take a seat. Thomas caught the outline of a taser underneath the coat as the doctor leaned over him. He shined a light in his eyes and checked his blood pressure. Thomas endured the poking and prodding with an air of impatience. He barely flinched at the slide of a needle in his arm or the pull of blood from his veins. The doctor vanished back into the office as quickly as he’d appeared to run his tests.

Thomas forced himself to stay calm and relaxed, fighting his urge to fidget or look around the room. A perfect air of pure boredom and irritation. A few minutes later, the doctor returned with several armed officers striding behind him. “It appears,” he said in a monotonous voice, “that there was a problem with your blood test.”

Thomas stood. He had anticipated this, but it did nothing to quell his racing heart. “What kind of problem?” He narrowed his eyes at them.

“Well…”

“Because if you’d look inside my files, which I’m sure you have, you would see that I had paroxysmal nocturnal hemoglobinuria which would make my blood test come out a little odd, wouldn’t it?” At their blank looks, he heaved a heavy sigh. “Really? You’re a doctor, and you’ve never heard of PNH?” He delighted in their worried glances towards one another as they began to doubt and second guess. Likely, they'd never heard of the obscure condition because of its rarity, which was what Thomas had been banking on when he'd pulled the words from an old medical journal.

“W-we see a lot of this with certain experimental creations.” The doctor stammered.

“Yes, yes, the Frankensteins. You are just determined to make my family out to be monsters, aren’t you?” He made as if to turn away. “I don’t have time for this. If you won’t release my father, I’ll just have to come back with my own court order.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The receptionist stood up quickly, her shrill voice making Thomas and the men closest to her wince. She pressed an intercom at her desk. “Please bring Mr. Patrick Graham to the foyer. He is being released.”

“Thank you.” Thomas crossed his arms and waited impatiently for his father to appear as he brushed off the doctor’s apologies. It didn’t take him long. His orange hair framed his face in greasy tangles, his glasses cracked and barely hiding the dark smudges under his eyes from many sleepless nights. “Dad.” It had been too long since they’d seen one another.

His father stopped and squinted at him. “Thomas? What’s going on? Where’s R--”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Dad!” Thomas cut him off as he threw his arms around his father and hugged him tight. “Just play along, old man.” He said into his ear. “Do not say anything.”

He released him abruptly and turned to the rest of the people in the room. “I would say it’s been a pleasure, but it really hasn’t. We’re leaving. Good day.” He turned on his heel and dragged his father with him as they exited the prison. He only began breathing easier when they were crammed back inside the beta ship, the Chimera melting out of the darkness to meet them.

“Where’s my son? Where’s Rowan?”

Rowan could hear his father, no, the inventor, calling for him as he reached the bridge. He’d been tempted to hide in Sebastian’s room until they’d dropped him back off on his home planet, but he realized there was something else he’d rather do. No matter how hard, he had to confront the man he thought had been his father.

The first thing Rowan noticed when he entered the room was that there was a lot more gray in the inventor’s hair than there’d been before. The inventor hadn’t seen Rowan yet, so Rowan stayed back in the shadows and hoped the ache he felt in his chest would ease. The rest of the crew had gathered by the window, watching as Rowan did, their curiosity unsated, while Thomas and Sebastian faced the inventor.

“They keep saying I’ve done something terrible, but I would never hurt my son.”

Thomas snorted. “Rowan’s dead.”

“No. Never say that.” Patrick turned on Thomas, his eyes a blazing inferno of rage and grief. “He’s only had an accident. He’s recovered.”

“He shot himself. There’s no recovering from that.”

“What would you know? You’ve been gone too long. I helped him heal from his injuries. I took care of him! All you did was run away, but I helped him. I healed my boy.”

“Dad…” Tears swam in Thomas’s eyes.

“Rowan.” Patrick breathed, and all eyes turned to Rowan as he finally stepped out of the shadows. “My son. You’re okay?”

Rowan shook his head. “I’m not your son.”

“What…? Has your brother said something strange to you? I promise it isn’t true.” Patrick seemed on the verge of pleading, tears glimmering behind his glasses.

Rowan couldn’t reason with this man, couldn’t bear his grief and pain. He glanced at Sebastian, at the tears streaming down his brother’s cheeks, and made a decision. One he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to commit to. But sometimes, the only way to accept the truth was to have your world crumble around you. “Yeah, Dad. My brother told me some weird things, and I didn’t want to believe him. Dad, I remember the accident.”

The inventor sucked in a sharp breath. “You do?”

“I came home from school and threw my backpack across the room.” He dug deep down into his jagged memories. “I was so angry, so tired. All my friends were applying to college, and I couldn’t because I was sick. Everyone thought it was the same thing Mom had, but you were hopeful. You swore you’d find a cure, but I didn’t want to waste away in a hospital room. I didn’t want anyone to watch me die like that. If I was going to die, it was going to be on my terms. I took a gun, put it against my head, and pulled the trigger.” He mimed the action with his finger.

“I didn’t...no one said he was sick.” Thomas cast an accusing glance towards his father.

Rowan glanced at Sebastian who looked away. “He told me. And Sebastian.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad.” Sebastian said. “I didn’t know what he’d do.”

“No, he didn’t...he wasn’t.” The inventor looked at Rowan pleadingly.

“I know you tried to fix me. I know you did your best.” Slowly, Rowan untied the bandana around his arm and handed it to Lyra who’d moved closer. She clutched the bright pink cloak around her like a lifeline, like the way the inventor clutched to his memories of a son he’d tried to save. He flashed his wounded arm to the room. Then he began pulling apart the synthetic skin, so alike the real thing that it had the others recoiling in horror. He dropped piece after piece onto the floor, revealing wires and sparking circuitry.

Rowan’s voice jumped and skittered as he spoke, like a scratched disc struggling to play despite its damage. “I appreciated it. I did. You did such a good job, Dad, but you have to let me go now. Your son died in that bedroom. I died. And I can’t be him anymore.”

“N-no. You didn’t. I healed you. I fixed you. You’re okay. I made you better. Whatever anyone’s told you, it isn’t true.”

“You made me into an abomination.” Rowan dug his fingers into the scar at the top of his head and pulled layers of skin from his face. No one stopped him. “You made me into a monster, and everyone knew, but no one stopped you. You were grieving, and no one wanted to add to your pain, but you can’t ignore the wounds and expect them to heal. You can’t look the other way when tragedy happens. You have to face it.”

“No!” Patrick turned away.

“Look at me!” Most of his skin was gone now. A sickly sweet liquid seeped from the circuits and dripped onto the floor. “Look what you’ve done. I’m not your son. I’m just a monster wearing his face, speaking with his voice, living a life that is no longer his to live. Remember the sound of that gunshot? Remember how fast you and Thomas ran into that room? How you pulled him to you and begged him to hold on? But he was gone, and you couldn’t bring him back! No matter how hard you tried!”

Thomas took a step forward, intending to stop Rowan whose mechanical eyes bore into the inventor. The old man fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. “I’m an inventor.” He murmured. “I can fix anything. I can make it better.”

“You can’t fix this.” Rowan walked over to the inventor and knelt before him. “It’s okay, Dad. I forgive you. And I’m so so sorry I had to go like I did, but you can’t move on if you keep doing this to yourself. You have to fix yourself now.”

“Why’d you have to die?” The inventor wailed. “We could have found a cure. We could have...had you for a few more years. Why did you let us find you? Didn’t you know it’d tear us apart like this? Why did you never think about us?”

“Why’d you never think about me?” Rowan countered quietly.

“You still have a son.” Sebastian spoke up, his voice too loud in the sudden silence.

Thomas knelt beside his father and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’ll let me, I’ll come home, and we can remember Rowan the right way. Please, Dad.”

The inventor nodded and stared hard at Rowan, at the bionic eyes looking back in a face of metal, the face of his son shredded beyond repair. “Rowan died.” He said to himself, lost in his memories. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

“It’s okay, Dad.” Thomas assured. “He’s gonna stay with Sebastian, so no one can charge you with breaking Frankenstein’s Law.”

“No, you don’t understand. I did break it.” He broke off quickly, his words jumbling together as true panic set in. “Oh, God. I did something so terrible. Something so awful to my little boy.”

“Dad--”

The inventor stood, startling both Thomas and Rowan. “We have to take him back with us. We have to dismantle him. We have to.” He turned his wild eyes on Thomas. “Please. We have to.”

“Not a chance.” Sebastian stepped in and pulled Rowan away as the inventor reached out towards him. “He’s staying with me.”

“He can’t--”

“It’s not up for debate.”

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.” Brie pushed herself away from the wall where she’d been passively watching. “We’re taking Rowan to a friend of ours on Juno to repair some damage then we’ll be dropping you two off. Trust me, you don’t want the evidence of your crimes hanging around in your basement, dismantled or not.”

“Yeah.” Kenan added, joining Brie. “Frankenstein’s Law is one of the most serious laws that exists. You don’t wanna get caught up in that.”

“It may be best this way.” Lyra’s ruby eyes stared impassively at the inventor as she tied her hair back with her bandana. “It may be best if you agree.”

“Come on, Dad. You need to rest. We can talk more about this in the morning.” Thomas helped his dad to his feet and out of the room, casting a grateful glance back at the crew.

“Right. You’re right.” His dad agreed, dazed, as the realization of his crime fell heavily on his shoulders. He stumbled towards the door, only staying on his feet with the help of Thomas’s hand on his arm.

“You alright there?” Kenan asked, snapping his fingers at Rowan.

“Yeah.” Rowan looked down at the pieces of skin, high dollar elastic silicone, that now littered the floor. “I think so.”

“Good.” Sebastian said. “Because you’ve just given me and my crew enough fuel for a lifetime of nightmares.”

“I had to show him what he’d done.”

“Oh, I get that. I do.” Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder and began to steer him from the room. “Now let’s have you rest before you start taking off other parts of your body. I don’t need my ship looking like a horror show.”