Summus Proelium

Was it strange that I felt more nervous and apprehensive about the entire situation with my parents while riding the elevator up to see them now that they were awake than I had felt basically at any other point while they were under the influence of Sleeptalk? All of my fears should have evaporated the moment we were told they had woken up and wanted to see us. It was over. They were safe. The cure had worked. So why did I feel a hard knot in my stomach the entire time we were heading up to their room? Was it just because I was convinced something bad would happen to stop this from being a happy ending? Was I anxious about what was going to happen once they were back on their feet? Was I worried about what sort of side effects there might be to this whole thing?

Yes. The answer to every single question was yes. I was worried about any number of things. And apparently my subconscious had decided that it wasn't going to let itself simply be relieved right now. Instead, it kept poking me about various potential problems and catastrophes. Some were quite possible, like the idea that there could be lingering side effects that would make my parents not quite as much like themselves as they had been. Some were slightly less so, like the idea that Cuélebre would come diving out of the sky, crash through the roof of the building, and destroy everything while screaming something about not listening to the Ministry anymore.

Yes, my subconscious had some time on its hands, apparently. And a lot of motivation to come up with doom scenarios. But I firmly shoved those thoughts away so I could focus on what was actually happening right now. Whatever else came from this, we would deal with it. Maybe things would be perfect. Maybe there would be a long road to our parents fully recovering. But whatever it took, however long we had to deal with the effects of that vile shit, it was better than the alternative. It was better than losing them entirely. I could deal with whatever else came. Even if what came was more complications from the Ministry.

As that thought passed through my mind, the elevator dinged and our doctor escort stepped off before gesturing for us to follow. Once again, my parents were in a private room on an extra-secure level. They weren't going to take any chances at all of something going wrong. Not when they were this close to being done with this entire situation.

The three of us followed the doctor off the elevator and down the hallway. There were a couple armed guards standing by the entrance into that wing, and another couple further in. Damn, I had said they weren't taking any chances, but this was beyond even what I had assumed. Clearly I wasn't the only one who was being paranoid right now. Not that I objected to that. I was just glad they actually seemed to be taking the security for this seriously.

If I hadn't been paying so much attention, if I had truly been so distracted by thoughts of my parents, I probably wouldn't have noticed when Simon gave a nod to one of the guards. It wasn't a simple nod of acknowledgment between near strangers passing one another. No, this was the nod of a superior telling a subordinate he was doing a good job. Simon was telling this guard, with that simple nod, that he was pleased with what the man had been doing. He was this guy's boss. Which meant the guy worked for the Ministry. Which also wasn't surprising. To be honest, I was just kind of assuming that everyone who had any contact at all with my parents around here worked for the Ministry. The guards, the doctors, nurses, anyone with real access was almost certainly at the very least thoroughly compromised by my family’s organization.

Our escort had to input a code next to a heavily reinforced door at the end of that hallway, and then let it scan his eyes. It opened with a whoosh of air, and we went through. I exchanged a glance with Izzy. We could both see the apprehension, hope, and many other conflicting feelings passing over our faces. I gave her a little smile, trying to reassure her before taking the girl’s hand.

With Simon walking ahead of us, we passed through that door. It didn’t lead directly into our parents’ room. Instead, we were in a long white hallway with doors on either side. The doctor leading us went to one of those doors and knocked. It was opened by a nurse, and the two held a whispered conversation before she smiled at us and stepped out. The door was held open, and the doctor told us to go ahead. He also warned us not to be too rough with them, and to alert medical staff if they ever seemed confused about where or who they were, or started talking about things that didn't make any sense. I was going to assume that we should also probably tell them if our parents fell down and started snoring.

That was the thought that passed through my mind as I walked up to that open door and then stepped through. And it was the last thought I had before seeing both of my parents. The room was probably nice. It was probably incredibly, obscenely ornate and expensive. It probably made literal hotel honeymoon suites look like prison cells. But I didn't see any of that. I didn't see anything else about the room. All I saw, in that moment, was my parents standing in front of the window, looking out at the city. They were standing up, holding hands, looking out at the city and very clearly no longer affected by Sleeptalk. They were safe. They were awake. They were okay.

They were my mom and dad.

A noise escaped me, a noise I couldn't put any word or meaning to. It was pure emotion and nothing more. Emotion that erupted from my gut, pushed its way up my throat, and filled the room. It was a guttural noise that came just as I sprinted several steps forward and threw myself across the rest of the distance. Dad managed to open his arms and catch me as I flung myself into him. He made his own noise of emotion and pulled me up close to his chest, hugging me tight with one arm. Mom was there too, closing in around me. She reached out, taking hold of Izzy, who had been a few steps behind. Dad's other arm found my little sister and lifted her up as well. He was able to pick both of us up, one in each arm. Mom was there on the other side, and Simon came up behind Izzy and me to hug Mom from that side while his other hand moved to grab Dad’s shoulder.

We were all crushed together in that hug. Izzy and I were in the middle between the other three. I didn't care about anything else. Right then, for that moment, none of the other shit mattered. I would deal with it when the time came. For now, it was enough just to be right here with my family.

None of us even said anything at first. No one knew what to say. Eventually, we found ourselves sitting down. Dad was in a chair, I was perched on the arm of the chair so I could hold onto his shoulder, Izzy was sitting on his knee. Mom had another chair pulled up very close on that side so she could rub Izzy’s back. And Simon was sitting in a third chair next to Mom, their hands clasped. But I had seen a momentary look past between my parents and my brother, where he finally made it clear that they had things to talk about. But Mom and Dad had both equally silently informed him that it could wait a few minutes. They didn't want a report from their lieutenant. They wanted their son to be there with them right now. Simon seemed perfectly okay with that. Even then, I could see how a visible weight had come off his shoulders the moment that we walked through the door and found our parents standing there. I was pretty sure that, like me, he had been partially convinced that something awful was going to happen before we could actually get to them. Maybe paranoia ran in the family.

Mom found her voice first once we had settled in. “They told us that things have been rather eventful while we were sick.” She paused before that last word, clearly taking a moment before deciding exactly what to call their situation. “Your father and I are both so sorry we weren't there to help you all with that. You shouldn't have been alone with all that happening.”

My head shook as I reached across Dad to touch the hand she was using to rub Izzy's back. “We weren't alone, Mom. There's like fifty people who work at home, remember? We've got an entire security force patrolling our back yard. We were fine. We’re the least-alone teenagers in the city. You’re the ones who were in trouble. I mean, I'm sorry you were-- I mean--” Damn it, what was I supposed to say? It wasn't like I could apologize for contributing to the fact that Sleeptalk had happened in the first place. My plan, well, the plan Paige and I had come up with, had sent Irelyn out of the city. That led directly to her ending up on Breakwater. And then we had helped make sure she and Trivial were brought back here. That had put my parents in the exact situation they needed to be to get hit by Sleeptalk. Yes, they could've been hit at another time. It had been the Banners who were turned into human bombs to set that stuff off, and they could have done that at any point. I was pretty sure it wouldn't be impossible for the second-richest family in the city to get my parents in a building together. Still, that didn’t change the fact that the way it had gone down was specifically because of what we did with Irelyn.

But, of course, I couldn't get into any of that. I couldn't tell my parents why I felt guilty. So the words caught in my throat for a moment before I simply offered a weak, “We're just glad you're okay.” God, that was so pathetically inadequate. It didn't come close to expressing what I wanted to say. I couldn't find the right words to tell them how I felt, to tell them how much I missed them. I wasn't even sure I knew those sorts of words.

But what I couldn't express through my voice, I did by simply leaning in to hug my dad once more. I felt his arm down around me, and heard his soft intake of breath. It sounded like he was having trouble expressing himself too.

We talked more about what had happened. At least, the stuff that I was supposed to know about. I had no doubt that our parents would be having a very long, much more in-depth discussion with Simon as soon as they had a little alone time with him. But for now, we kept all of it to very public knowledge. Mom and Dad were especially worried about the effect the quarantine was having on the city. Both on the morale of everyone who lived here, and on the supply situation. That led to Dad talking about some very technical situation with trade and supply lines. But mostly I was just holding my mother’s hand and smiling like a doofus. Finally, she cleared her throat and gently told Dad to rein it in a little and be here with the family. All the other business-related discussions could wait until later. She made her voice very firm on that point, and I knew she meant anything to do with the Ministry as well as their more legal business. They may have had a lot to deal with on both fronts, but she wasn't going to let that interrupt or take over things right now.

Dad didn't have to be told twice. He immediately stopped talking about anything financial. Instead, he moved his hand to touch the side of my face, brushing his fingers down it in a soft, gentle gesture. His voice was quiet. “My beautiful girl.”

I felt fingers touch my arm, and turned to see Simon looking at me. Our gazes met, and he looked indecisive for a moment before silently mouthing, “It's okay, you can tell them.”

Well, that sent a surge of panic through me. My heart tried to leap out of my chest briefly. Told him what? Did he know I was Paintball? Did he know that I knew about the Ministry? Had he known this whole time? Was he telling me to bring it up now while they were in this sort of mood because that would be the best time to avoid problems? How had he figured it out? What had I said that gave it away? If I didn't bring it up, was he going to do it on his own? Was this some sort of threat? Was he telling me that he was giving me a chance to tell the truth before he did? Was this entire reunion about to become something much more serious just because I had somehow managed to give away my secrets? What the hell had I done? How did he figure it out? What did I do wrong!?

All of that flashed through my mind in just a couple seconds. Simon must've seen the look on my face, because he winced a little as though worried about how he had brought it up. While our parents were distracted talking to Izzy, he hesitated before leaning in to whisper almost silently in my ear. “You can tell them about the gender thing if you want.”

Wait, that's what he had been talking about? I hadn't even had that discussion with him. I hadn't actually acknowledged it at all. There had just been that slight moment back in the cafeteria when I had muttered that correction. But I hadn't explained what I meant. Had my brother actually picked up on that by himself? And now, he had encouraged me to talk about it without actually forcing the issue. He had intentionally kept quiet so that if I chose not to talk about it, I didn't have to.

Sometimes, my brother was pretty cool. When he wasn't being a gross, obnoxious jerk who also happened to occasionally kill people and (temporarily) help criminals who had murdered my friend’s brother. Even if he had always planned on leading that guy to his death. Which, see ‘happened to occasionally kill people.’

I took a breath and let it out, working that through my head. Mom, noticing, looked over at me before reaching out to touch my face. “Are you all right, Principessa? Our beautiful, wonderful girl.”

Well, I wasn’t going to get a better opening than that. Wincing a little at how this could go, I squirmed before squaring my shoulders. "Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something about myself. Maybe this is the wrong time to bring it up. Maybe it should wait a few days, or weeks.” I trailed off, thinking about that possibility. Was this really the right time to be talking about this? They had just woken up. We were all together for the first time in weeks. Should I even say anything?

But I saw their expressions. And I saw the reassuring looks from both Simon and Izzy. So, I pressed on. Bracing myself, I told my parents how I felt. I told them that I didn't always feel like a girl. I told them that sometimes I felt more masculine, or even like neither. I told them I wasn't just a girl, that I wasn't always a girl. I told them that I was fluid. Sometimes I was more like a boy, and other times I was more like a girl. I told them that I had started recording myself that way, that I was going by they/them instead of she/her.

Obviously, I didn't get into everything that had led to this realization. I couldn't exactly tell my parents that I remembered having all these thoughts before they had my memory erased. That would've been a whole different can of worms. Or rather, a paper bag full of rattlesnakes. I simply told them how I felt right then, that I needed to explore a bit more about who and what I was, but for the moment, I wanted to be seen as I truly was.

There was a moment of silence once I nervously finished, before Mom set her hand down to take mine and interlaced our fingers. Her voice was gentle. “Cassidy, no matter what you are, no matter what you wish to be called, you will always be our child. Sometimes you are our beautiful girl. Others you may be our handsome young boy. We love every version of you, whenever and however they come to us. I have adored you from the moment the doctor told me that you were a part of me, and that was before we knew what form you would grow into. I loved you when you were the size of my pinkie.” She held that up for me to see as though to illustrate, before touching that pinkie to my nose. “I have loved you since before anyone made the slightest guess what you would be, because the only thing that matters is that you are our child.”

Dad took my other hand and moved it up so I could touch his face, smiling softly at the feel of my fingers there. “Whether you are my son, my daughter, or anything in between, I love you with everything that I am. I will call you by any name or term you wish. I want you to be happy. I want you to feel safe. You are our child, always and forever.”

I tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat, but it wouldn't go down. I just ended up making a soft, pathetic little noise before leaning in to hug each of them as tightly as I could, one after the other. I let everything else go for that moment. None of the other stuff mattered. All of it could wait. For right now, the only truth in the world was that my parents were safe.

And they accepted me.