Drenar taps the steering wheel impatiently while driving to the location where his brother had texted him, and Julia is concerned. “How exactly did this happen?”

"Oh, in short? My brother got into a fight, got the crap kicked out of him, and the aggressors apparently took all his clothes." His response makes her eyes go wide.

"You weren’t joking before, were you?"

"Nope." She doesn’t even question it. Oh my. Shall I avert my eyes or…dare a peak? No Julia, focus on dignity!

"Didn't you tell me that he was with Jackie?" she inquires.

"Yeah, he was supposed to be. What are the odds this is also related to what's happening to you and me?” He sounds very aggravated at that notion. She's racking her brains for things that had seemed odd, but not completely off kilter of late–at least, not with the context she'd had at the time

"Not for nothing, but she has been in a mood lately," Julia reasons calmly. "She suddenly thinks she's royalty and walks over everyone, she even has some of the athlete guys intimidating others to do what she says, if subtlety doesn't work for her.”

“Okay, let me ask this again. Has anyone else we know been taking absences from school, showing unusual behavior, anything out of the ordinary?” Julia taps her fingernails on the side console, pondering it.

“I'm sure there's something I noticed somewhere. I'm like you Drenar, I can sense weirdness for miles. It's how I was born a day before you, ‘cause I knew you were on the way!” She can't help but grin at this, and he just sighs. “So, how bad off is Evan?”

“Beaten up. They took his clothes. Very telling, when he won't mention who they are. Ah crap, I just thought of something. I saw Jonaleth Winters in that gaggle of teens by the theater.”

“Aha!” The weirdness triggers her patented weird-sense. “I heard a fight broke out in the gym two days ago.  Jonaleth started it, Chris threw the first punch, then Jonaleth broke Chris's nose. He always seems to skate out of any punishment. A charmed life, that," she mutters.

Drenar scoffs at this notion in an instant. "He is one misstep away from prison, and I heard a rumor he got kicked out of the last school he attended because he stabbed someone. There’s nothing ‘charming’ about him.”

Julia can’t help but feel utter spite towards that teen. Jonaleth Winters has to be the typical schoolyard bully, and the worst part was he didn’t appear to be a visual archetype like in a comic book. He isn’t pig-eyed, burly, or lacking hygiene. He’s thin as a rail but he’s strong, and has calm, ice-cold blue eyes and black hair, and zero facial hair for some reason. He’s always ruddy cheeked, and has bony hands that Julia imagines have bashed many kids' faces over the years. He'd never tangled with her though. He’s a bully, not suicidal.

“Jonaleth is small time, now that we’re dragons, we can bully him around.” Drenar didn't even bother to announce their arrival at a side road, next to a low-cut field of grass and sparse trees. “Was that…too much? It just occurred to me that defending the defenseless might be a better use of our draconic genetics.”

“Nah. He’s on my list of people I’d throw a beating, if he ever threatened me or hurt someone in front of me. He’d be taking a ride in an ambulance by the time I was done,” she answers calmly.

“Are we sure we aren't having a collective fever dream?” he asks uneasily, even as he rubs at the scales now hidden under his sleeve again. She slowly taps him on the nose to get him to calm down. "I mean listen to us--dragons, of all things!"

"Hey, you are a lot of things, but crazy isn’t one of them--Fates!”

Julia jerks reactively when someone taps the glass on the rear of the car, and she feels the seatbelt dig uncomfortably into her waist and shoulder. Evan’s just outside, and though she could only see the top half of him, whoever had given him a hard time had indeed taken all his clothes. “Bro, you got spare clothes?” his voice comes in muffled through the glass.

“You are so lucky I carry extras,” he utters with vitriol before reaching behind the seat to grab his extra gym clothes. “Uh, pardon me while I go to chew out my brother.”

“Yeah, by the way, he’s totally wearing a birthday suit.” Drenar looks at her warily.

“I will write a blank check, and give you permission to fill out whatever amount you need to make you forget this ever happened.” She can’t help but try to hide her blush. “Seriously, any amount.”

“Has he always been so…ripped? I mean, I expect it from you but–”

Aaaand she’s gone and done it, she’s embarrassed herself further, and she buries her face in her hands because he’s looking mighty anxious too. “You know what, go deal with the buck nude brother, and I’ll just be in the car, trying to will my body to die or something, so I don’t have to live this down.”

“Yeah, I uh, I think that’s for the best.” He does look at her with a glint of curiosity. “Do I really look ripped to you? I mean it doesn't bother me if that’s how you feel–”

“I will fling you through the windshield!” she heaves out. He quickly gets the hint and steps outside with his gym bag.

He starts laying into his brother, then falls silent. Julia can sort of hear the conversation, but it’s a little muffled. I can’t believe I said that to Drenar. I mean I like him, but like him in *that* way? It’s too bold even for me!

She’s trying not to think of him on beach day. With that cocksure smirk and body like living steel and–

Okay brain, hormone trip is over! She takes a deep breath and lets out a frustrated growl. Mom said it would be like this, where I’d find a guy, and I’d be lost for words, and there’d be these feelings up above and…and down below. And that guy is not supposed to be the friend I’ve known since I was three! He’s off limits, estrogen and progesterone!

Her fuming is interrupted by Drenar slamming the door shut, and he looks a little disturbed. “So, he’s in bad shape,” he says like he’s been holding his breath. “Yet he’s still standing. And doesn’t seem to be minding the trending-towards-chilly weather. This totally is related to what’s going on with us.”

“Drenar, I’m having a moment here, slow down,” she groans. “How bad–”

“He’s clawed bloody, he’s got bruises, and a bite wound on his shoulder.” She goes wide-eyed at him.

“What.” She doesn’t have to wait more than a second for Evan to hop into the backseat, wearing Drenar’s gym clothes, he’s indeed clawed up, and blood is seeping in a patch or two very lightly. Those clothes that have that slight sweat smell and just that hint of lavender dryer sheets that she’d like to examine in closer detail–

Shut up, brain! Drenar looks at her apprehensively when she turns around, and then smashes the console with her fists. Hard.

“Am I missing some context somewhere–” he starts to say. She slowly turns her head to give him that death glare that only she and her mother know the ancient technique to use.

“Just. Drive.” She can almost feel the crackle of energy in her clenched fists.

“Okay.” He starts the car. She got a few seconds of silence. Evan grunting in discomfort isn’t helping. It’s a very uncomfortable few minutes of driving time where it’s an absolute dead conversation. She decides to take the plunge first with a sharp inhale.

“Okay, so, are you two going to tell me why Evan looks like he’s been in a knife fight with Freddy Krueger?”

“It’s fingernails. Don’t ask,” Evan says with discomfort. “Man, they jacked my face up good. Sorry for the bail-out mission Julia, didn’t mean to ruin your guys’ evening.”

"Damn, you are a wreck. You're telling me that Jackie, that petite little thing, did this to you?!" Julia askes, sounding unconvinced. Evan just shrugs, not even offering a single word. Julia peers at him. "Evan, seriously, cut the crap. Something happened to you too, didn’t it?”

"Back off Julia, it's none of your business," Evan snaps. “It was just Jackie. Some words were said, I said I wasn’t interested, and…it didn’t go well.”

"Evan. It is our business now that you dragged us into it, and you also said ‘they’ plural." Drenar warns him. "Are you going to tell me what really happened out here?"

"No. Not…not yet," he sighs rubbing tenderly at a bruise on his chin. "I'll be fine. No hospital, no cops, and we don't tell Diane.”

"So where's Jackie?" Julia presses. ”Did she grow wings and fly off into the night?” Or maybe she actually did? That wouldn’t be the wildest thing I’ve seen or heard all night.

Evan takes a second as if thinking it through. "She took off in her car. Luckily, I had my phone.”

Drenar points to the blood still weeping ever so slightly on his arm. Strangely, the wound is mostly scabbed over. "Look, we're not solving anything here, we're going to the hospital. Those wounds could get infected."

"Just patch them at home...and don't ask questions, alright? Please?"

“I’m decent at triage, but this is gonna suck for you, big time. You sure?” Drenar finally relents, and waits for Evan to nod his head. "Julia, I hate to be a bother, but can we head back to your place?"

"Only if he promises to cut it with the attitude and tells us the full story," she said forcefully. She doesn't take her eyes off of him, and he nods his head slowly.

"You guys...thanks."

"Just don’t make me regret this.” Drenar is in no mood for further compromise.

It's an awkwardly quiet car ride. Julia constantly looks back at Evan. All the while, she keeps thinking back to what he had said. These were pretty serious injuries, how had Jackie inflicted this much injury? Was he unwilling, or unable to fight back? Why did some of them look like they’d already partially healed? Or, someone else was there. The injuries are clotted and show signs of possible…what was the word, active regeneration? Like super healing? Dragons seriously have a bunch of overpowered racial features at birth. The musculature tone is also inconsistent, he was much more of a wireframe than this a couple of months ago.

Drenar finally decides to break up the mood a bit when Julia eyeballs Evan for the twentieth time. "He's not going to morph into a werewolf, you know. Though he isn't as easy on the eyes as one."

"Ha, ha. So funny Drenar," Evan replies sarcastically.” Seriously man, what are you going to do once I’m out on the East Coast next year? How do you know your future isn't heading towards something else?" His raised voice sounds like an accusation.

“Dude this is a done deal. WPI is my college this time next year.”

“I seriously wouldn’t bet on it,” he mutters.

Julia decides to curl around the seat and loudly crack her knuckles. “Hey Drenar, he’s not blood-related, that means he's fair game for me to fix his attitude, right?”

"Julia, let’s keep it civil, I live with him. Even if he isn't a blood relative, he's still family." They’re almost back to her house, and she is looking forward to answers.

"Are you sure about that?" Evan demands angrily.

"Yeah, you're family," he insists. "I grew up with you, didn't I? "

"Not that part, I mean blood-related. But I suppose Mom and Dad left that out, didn't they." He's left without a response, and scrabbling for why he would even say that.

"What does that--"

"It's got everything to do with it!" Evan spat angrily. "Do you buy that crap, or are you still in denial? Mom and Dad couldn't have another kid, so they adopted me?! They lied to me my entire life! Don't forget, Dad ditched you and Mom before he came crawling back. Ever wonder why?"

"Enough." Drenar forces himself to not shout, and it's audible to Julia that the steering wheel creaks from his iron grasp. "I'm not having this discussion, Evan. I see no point in dredging up what may have happened.”

"Yeah, that's unlike you, surprisingly. You, not trying to kick over rocks about this? Don't you care? My advice? This is the one rock you should kick over.” It gets awkwardly quiet in the car again, and Julia can see he’s tense, not in his expression, but in his death grip on the steering wheel.

She's the first out of the car when they get back to her house, and she slams the door with excessive force. Drenar is going to just let him pull us into this blind? I’m getting answers, and I’ve got a few theories on how! Evan follows her up the short flight of steps while she unlocks the door. Drenar is the last out, and enters behind them. She can still detect a slightly burnt scent, and the metallic tang inside is still strong. Great, back into the crime scene of my pending draconic evolution. Damn it, people are not Pokémon! Stupid infectious thought.

“Julia, get the bandages and other equipment. Take off your shirt Evan,” he instructs calmly. She can see his brother is a right mess. She missed the series of bruises on his pale skin. “Julia, I need alcohol, and I need the stitching kit. This one right here,” he points to the bite, “is my biggest concern from an infection standpoint. Evan, do I even want to know how you got bit?”

“Nope.” His one-word answer is pretty resolute, and she vows she’ll get some kind of truth out of him. "Why does the microwave look like it got hit by ball lightning?"

"Metal and magnetrons don’t mix," Drenar states while sterilizing a needle with rubbing alcohol.

"Nah man, you couldn’t cause that kind of…damage…” he glances back at Julia, and she glares at him with lethal intent: Do not continue this line of thought. "Seriously though, it looks like someone went to town on it with a plasma cutter."

"You’re right, Evan. I decided to take my mom’s welding kit and melt my microwave just for the hell of it," Julia answers testily. Evan relents, and Drenar focuses on the wounds.

“Fates. Evan I can–hang on.” He grabs a pair of forceps from the medical bag. “There’s something here. Julia, alcohol--I don’t mean the rubbing kind, either."

"What a criminal waste of whiskey on this cretin," she oozes with contempt.

“I think there’s something in this wound,” he insists. “Look it’s either it stays there, gets infected, and then we’re going to get asked questions we don’t have answers for, or, option two.”

“Alcohol for dulling the pain? I choose option three, the way of pain.” Evan looks like he’s mighty anxious about that one. “Alright, fine. But this is not setting a precedent.” She grabs a bottle from one of the cabinets. “I’m going to get so much hell for this if Mom thinks we’re swiping whiskey,” she mutters. She gives him a glass of it, and he struggles to keep it down after taking one large gulp. He looks like he's fighting against throwing up.

“Have you done this before?” Julia asks, while Drenar waits a few minutes. He’s able to work on some of the minor injuries with bandages and gauze after cleaning them, but they are trivial compared to the bite wound.

“Oh yeah, sure. Patching someone up after a street fight is something I do on a routine basis." She rolls her eyes in response. "Alright, I had some practice once. I had to stitch up a kid who tore his arm up when he fell off his bike trespassing in the quarry when I was volunteering last summer," he answers her.

“And how’d that turn out?”

“He lived? Just don’t ask me to do major invasive surgery,” he responds. “Julia, give him something to bite down on. This is going to suck.” A wooden stirring spoon is presented. Drenar takes a second pair of forceps and probes gently before he clamps on something deep in the wound. “Okay, I think I have it,” Drenar pulls up slightly, and Evan grimaces in pain and lets out an audible anguish. “Well, this is in deep, whatever this is,” Drenar mutters.

“Can you be a little more gentle?” Evan grunts with the spoon still between his teeth. Drenar gives him a droll look.

“Hey, you don’t like my service, you can face the music at home when we go to the triage center at the ER.” Julia ignores their adversarial discussion because she’s thinking of something important.

She has a theory. And a certain section about newly awakened half-dragons. And a theory about Drenar’s brother from another mother scenario that has bothered her for years, because they look too similar to each other for Evan to be adopted. A theory spurned by evidence now, and what he had said previously.

And Drenar is going to hate her for this next move, and she’s not sure if he’s going to hate her more if she’s wrong, or if she’s right. She puts on a pair of gloves without a second thought, and takes the forceps out of Drenar’s hand. He gives her a cautious look. “Uh, hey, maybe the person who actually knows what they’re doing should–”

He doesn’t get to finish the statement, because she’s already latched on to the foreign object with the forceps, a glint of something metallic looking. Evan leads out a whimper, like he's terrified of the next moment. ”You might wanna sit still for this,” she says commandingly, and pulls straight up and out with a smooth, even pull, driven by years of fine musculature control.

“Yeooooooww!”

Several things happen within three seconds. First, Evan screams in pain and his entire body recoils, and Drenar looks utterly horrified.

The second thing to happen is that she’s holding what appears to be a metallic-looking tooth that has been extracted from the wound, bloodied and broken off. It’s unlike anything she’s ever seen in that split-second window, messy as it is.

But the third and most dramatic thing is, Evan grows silver and burnt orange scaled claws on his hands and gouges them into the armrests from the immense pain reaction. Drenar simply gasps, and puts both his hands to his head, and is absolutely mortified at this spectacle. Evan realizes his immense error and shakes his head, eyes filled with terror.

Julia simply grins wildly, bloodied tooth in hand. “We have dragons, ta-daa!” she roars in a much-needed moment of revelation.

Drenar goes slack-armed and simply stares at Julia with abject terror. “You are a complete and utter menace, Tsundere.”