Galen stared off into the distance for a bit before going back inside. He went to the kitchen and started restlessly pulling ingredients out of the shelves. He couldn’t do anything more for August, but he could bake, and that was better than nothing. He started with a shortbread recipe that he knew from heart, mechanically going through the process the same way he’d done it a thousand times before. Once that was in the oven, he started planning what he would make next.

Galen folded himself over the countertop and pressed his cheek to the cold surface while he thought. Brownies seemed like a good idea, or lemon squares. As he compared the ingredients he needed to what he had on hand, his eyes focused on what was in front of them: August’s medication. Galen frowned and stood up straight, struggling to push a novel thought through the morass of fatigue.

He picked up the medication, looking at the unremarkable pills through the tinted bottle. He remembered his father holding them in much the same way. Something in Galen’s gut started to twist, and he rushed to the couch to grab his comm, which he’d left there when he’d heard August on the stairs earlier. First, he confirmed that pill bottles wouldn’t react in a modulator; it turned out that they were made from a nonreactive plastic. Then, he searched for what happened to medication if it was put in the modulator. Unsurprisingly, extreme temperature fluctuations would break it down, with the change sometimes being obvious and sometimes not.

Galen fell back onto the couch as he let the information sink in. His father had been interested in August’s medication, and his father had been left alone upstairs when he had gone into the basement with his mother. He couldn’t believe that it was something his father would do, but his father had seemed rather suspicious of August that whole evening, and the fact was that August’s immunosuppressants had stopped working after his parents had come over.

Before Galen’s thoughts could get any further, he heard the timer in the kitchen go off. He sprang up and pulled the shortbread out of the oven before moving them to a cooling rack. He then quickly looked up an easy brownie recipe and threw that together. When it was in the oven, he could only hope he’d gotten it right. He rubbed his eyes to fight off the fatigue as a horrible feeling gnawed away at his stomach.

Thinking about it wasn’t going to get Galen any further. He would just have to call his parents and see what they knew. He sat down on the couch and used his comm’s reflection to comb out his hair the best he could. He also caught sight of a dark dash on his skin in the metal, and prudently pulled his shirt collar up to hide the still fresh mark. He briefly wished that he could be sleeping instead, and that August was home and could tuck him in.

But he pushed aside that silly thought and focused instead on setting the comm to float in front of him at a flattering angle. Once he was confident that he looked acceptable, he called his parents.

“Galen! What a nice surprise! How are you?” His mother said as soon as she answered, “Your father’s just getting some work done in his study, but I’m sure he can come out and talk.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I just wanted to say hi, and didn’t think of the time,” Galen admitted.

His mother didn’t seem to mind, though. It looked like he had caught her in the middle of some cross-stitch, since that was usually when she liked to sit on the couch in front of the fish tank. A small koi swam behind her and out of frame. “We always have time for you! Are you doing okay? You sound like you caught a cold,” she pursed her lips in consternation as she tried to read his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Galen shrugged her off, “It’s just that something’s going on with August that has me worried, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Oh! Hold on a sec honey, if it’s about August, I’m sure your father will want to talk to you.” She put down the hoop she had in her hands and walked off screen.

Galen stared at the fish tank. The koi seemed as happy and relaxed as always, but he was feeling worse and worse. He didn’t really want to know why his father cared to hear about August.

His parents shuffled back into the frame and sat down together. “So what’s this about August?” his father asked, throwing his arm over the back of the couch.

Galen replied, “Well, August’s sick and had to go to the hospital today, and I’m not really sure why.”

“Why? He won’t tell you what’s wrong? Can’t you see the medical files?”

“He’ll message me when he knows. Also, no, the contract doesn’t just give me access to all his medical information,” Galen said evenly, “What I wanted to ask was if you happened to notice anything wrong with his medication while you were over the other day.”

For a moment, his parents were so still he though the screen was frozen. His mother replied a beat too late, “There was nothing particularly… did August say something about us?” However, as she was speaking, her husband started mumbling under his breath.

“…wrong with the meds; they’re effing sugar pills,” he grumbled.

It was Galen’s turned to freeze up. He lightly touched his face to make sure his expression was still intact and said, “Pardon?”

His father was more than happy to elabourate. He took his arm off the couch and leaned towards the screen like he was about to say something important. “Look, Galen, I’ve been doing my own research ever since that doctor appeared, and I’m just not convinced that this Alpha disease is real. There’s hardly any proof. All of the cases that are supposedly real are drummed up by this shady doctor! It’s just a bunch of Betas who want to be special.”

This conversation was taking a turn for the worse. “Oh really,” Galen squeezed out. He could feel a tide of preemptive rage rising up in his lungs, but he wanted to let his father finish what he had to say. After all, these seemed to be his sincere thoughts.

“He probably heard that the Empress was looking for a way to get you off the hook, and swooped in with a plan she wouldn’t question. But I bet that if you really got your hands on the paperwork, it would all be nonsense. I checked and his so-called medication is just sugar pills!”

“How. Did you check them?”

“There’s a test where if you put them in the modulator and they don’t change, they’re fake. So that’s what’s wrong with them. They’re just sugar,” His father leaned back and crossed his arms, seemingly satisfied with his argument.

Galen looked to his mother, and found that she seemed concerned, but not surprised. She rubbed her husband’s forearm and said, “Well, I think it’s good we’re having this talk out in the open.”

Galen’s insides were boiling with anger and accusations scalded his throat, but he controlled himself. “Are you both on the same page, mama?” he asked lightly.

Galen’s mother was also straining under the pretext of congeniality. She had always been well attuned to her children’s emotions, but her tone remained deliberately airy as she explained herself, “Well, I think there are… more possibilities than just what your father is saying. But—I just don’t think there’s anything that justifies how you’re being taken advantage of.”

“Oh,” Galen tried to say, but nothing came out. His brain whizzed through all the things he needed to explain to them. August was sick. He was in the hospital. The disease was real and he’d seen it himself. August wasn’t taking advantage of him. Galen had a death sentence and his former in-laws had spent days and nights and weeks unable to help him. The Emperor had cried in front of him. The Empress had cried when she told him they finally found the answer. How did his parents not know this? From beginning to end, they had been there for him, so why didn’t they know?

When Galen didn’t say anything else, Galen’s mother offered, “You really look unwell today sweetheart, why don’t we talk about this more when you’re feeling better?”

“Alright, that sounds good,” Galen agreed, his smile still carefully intact. He reached out and ended the call, and his parents and the koi disappeared from view. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking, or if it just felt like he was.
He couldn’t think straight. He was too tired and feeling too much. There was a dragon’s worth of something hot and painful winding its way through his body that barely felt like it belonged to him. It was a physical beast that pushed him from the inside until he fell off the couch and onto his knees, clutching at his loose collar as if it didn’t give him enough room to breathe.

Any expression Galen could recognize disappeared from his face, replaced with rippling contortions he was glad no one could see. He opened his mouth and the beast came out like steam escaping from a tea kettle, and it came out and out, until Galen ran out of air to give it. He felt ridiculous, among many other things.

The noise from the kitchen broke through Galen’s haze. The brownies were done, so he got up, folding his comm, and went to the kitchen. He put the brownies on another cooling rack and tried one of the shortbread cookies. It was good.

He needed to tell August that he knew what had happened. That would help. Lemon squares would also be nice, Galen decided, so he whipped some together while he waited to calm down. Once they were in the oven, Galen sent a message to August.

In the hospital, August was trying and failing to get some reading done when he saw Galen’s name pop up on his comm.

Galen: My father put your immunosuppressants in the modulator when he was here last week
Galen: We can talk more when you get back
Galen: How are you?

August: I’ll let the nurse know
August: I’m doing fine, just bored. They’re running some tests now. It’s slow because I’m in
pretty good shape
August: How are you?

Galen: Fine
Galen: Just baking lemon squares

August was a little unnerved by the conversation. He didn’t know what part he found stranger, that Galen’s father had apparently sabotaged his medication, or that Galen was still awake and apparently baking for the first time since they’d moved in. Just then, a nurse happened to be walking by, and August flagged her down to let her know what he’d learned.

A little while later, Galen had finished the lemon squares and some muffins and a cobbler. He finally had time to think as he crouched down, watching a batch of chocolate chip cookies rise on the sheet. The glow of the oven on his face was soothing, but he still wasn’t relaxed. His parents had betrayed him. They had already betrayed him days ago, when he watched them drive out the gate. Or rather, they had betrayed him already when he opened the door to let them into his and August’s home.
The injustice of it all hurt to think about as he quietly watched his faded reflection in the oven glass, his eyes puffy and sad, and he nibbled on a brownie. He believed absolutely that people were stronger together than apart, that loyalty was a value worth holding to. He thought he had learned this from his parents, but looking back, maybe it had been Alexander, or his sister, or a hundred other people who had taught him.

Galen stood back up and quickly cleaned a few used pans while he had the chance. He couldn’t help remembering that the last time he had felt like this, he had resolved to kill the party responsible. He considered it again. Knowing his father’s true thoughts, the man seemed utterly unfit to command the lives of hundreds of thousands of soldiers. And it turned out that killing someone who didn’t expect it wasn’t all that hard.

Galen dried the dishes and yawned. He wasn’t any less tired than he’d been when August left. Maybe that was why his thoughts were so messy. Even if it was the only means to get justice, he didn’t think he could do it again. If he got another death sentence, this time August would die with him. It really wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t tell if that made him more tired or angry.

Galen turned back to the oven. The cookies looked about done.

The day passed and cooled and the night continued. When August was discharged from the hospital, it was early morning, and he dearly hoped that Galen was asleep by now. He sent a message anyway.

August: Finally free! Waiting for the ride now

Galen: Finaly! See you soon

Sure enough, the man was still up, and August couldn’t help but assume that the typo said something about Galen’s mental state. He hoped that it was mostly the fatigue weighing on him. He messaged Galen again when he got in the cab, and rushed through the front door when he finally got back.

Galen stumbled towards him from the kitchen, holding his arms out and almost falling on him as he approached. August had to half hug, half hold him in case he fell. Looking past Galen, he discovered that the kitchen was in a shocking state. Dishes were piled high in and around the sink and the whole countertop was covered in baked goods. There were crumbs and flour everywhere, including in Galen’s hair, and probably on August’s clothes by now, too.

“You’re back,” Galen sighed into his shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m all good now. We should go to bed,” August said back.

“Yeah.”

Galen swayed slightly, but otherwise didn’t move. August waited, but nothing happened.
“Are you okay?” August asked, touching Galen’s head lightly.

“Mn, just tired.”

“Do you… want to go up the stairs?”

“Mmm… just tired.”

Another long pause ensued, but Galen didn’t seem any more ready to separate. August couldn’t quite tell how much of it was fatigue and how much was something else he didn’t understand. Regardless, they both needed to get to bed somehow. So he bent down a little and hooked his arms behind Galen’s legs just above the knee. When he stood up again, he was holding Galen like a toddler.

Galen had no objections, circling his arms around August’s neck and resting his cheek on August’s shoulder, already half asleep. August carried them up the stairs as quickly as he could before his strength gave out. Once he was at the top, he realized that Galen’s bed probably hadn’t been made since he’d left. He adjusted his course and took Galen to his bedroom instead, tucking him in nicely before preparing to leave.

August was planning on sleeping on one of the couches. It felt a little invasive otherwise. But as he turned to leave, Galen’s hand caught on his pantleg. He looked back to see Galen watching him with bleary eyes. He mumbled something that August couldn’t quite make out, and wiggled back until he was in the middle of the bed, all while pinching the fabric between his pale fingers.

August was tired, too. He picked up Galen’s hand and let it lead him onto the bed. Once he was in place, Galen pulled his hand back and closed his eyes again, quickly falling asleep properly. August listened to the even breathing beside him as he followed suit.