Niko was surprised to come home and see his little brother reading a book. Cal never read. The same way Niko devoured every piece of literature he could get his hands on, Cal stubbornly refused to even try. He insisted that he didn't need to read, and while Niko suspected that he could read, he continued to stubbornly pretend that he didn't. Nik thought by now it was more a matter of principle than anything.

At any rate, seven year old Cal wasn't a reader, so when Nik came home from school to find him with a book, he very nearly checked to see if it was actually Cal. The way he didn't turn around before saying, "Hullo, Nik," proved that one well enough, though.

"Where's Sophia?" Nik asked, mostly as a matter of course. Generally speaking, he knew where she was, and he wasn't surprised today.

"In her room. She has a headache."

"Ah," Nik said, wondering if he should bring up the book in case Cal dropped it like a hot potato. "What've you been up to, Cal?"

"Caliban," his little brother said, flatly, and didn't close the book. "M'reading."

Nik wandered over. "So I see. What book?"

Cal closed it and Niko blinked. 'The Big Book of Monsters' blared the cover.

"…where'd you get that?"

"The library," Cal said, with a shrug. "I used your card. Hope you don't mind."

I didn't think you knew where the library was, Niko didn't say. There was an odd note in his brother's voice that he wasn't sure he liked but couldn't identify yet. "No, I don't mind. Why'd you pick that one?"

Cal shrugged. "Just something Sophia said."

Neither of them ever called her 'mom' or 'mama' or even 'mother' like the other kids did. It was just agreed that Sophia was emphatically not their mother, and even less their 'mom.' But Nik tensed anyway, though he wasn't sure why until he asked.

"What d'you mean?"

Cal looked down at the book, opening it again. Niko couldn't see the page. "Y'know. She was just going on at me about something or other."

"Cal, would you look at me?"

"No." The flat tone of his brother's voice wasn't one he heard very often. It was his 'I'm not going to talk and you can't make me' voice. But then he did add, "She kept talking about my dad."

Niko tensed more. Sophia didn't talk about Caliban's father very much. And never to Caliban. "What did she say?"

Cal was silent. He turned a page, and frowned. "Nik, how do you say this one?"

Nik peered over his shoulder. "Svartalfar. Norse dark elves." He thought he caught a glimpse of something, then Cal turned his face away, quickly. Cal looked at the page, touched the face of one of the creatures with one finger.

"Looks kinda like me."

"What?"

"Black hair, pale skin." He paused. "Nik, is it true that my father was a monster?" Nik gaped. He could have lied, but it took him a moment too long to think of it, and Cal knew his pauses as well as he knew his lies. "That means I'm a monster, too."

"Is that what she said?"

Cal closed the book again and didn't look up. "Yeah. She was yelling about how she never should've slept with my father because he was a monster and I am too. A monster's bastard." His voice was even, and cool.

He felt his eyes chill. "She was drunk and you're not a monster." Nik heard his brother tense.

"If my father is, that makes me one too."

"Half," Nik insisted, "And that's just genetics. You're not a monster."

"No," said Caliban, and the bitterness in his voice was painful to hear, "Not half," and Niko couldn't disagree with that.

"Don't ever listen to what she says. She doesn't know anything about you. Not like I do."

"Did you know?"

Nik hesitated, then ignored that. "You're not a monster," he insisted, stubbornly, "You're my little brother. And we're going to go return that book to the library."

The scowl was plain in Cal's voice. "Who knows. Maybe my family's in it."

"Cal."

"Caliban!" He said, standing and whirling, "It's Caliban." His eyes blazed. His mouth was a sullen line, face open and far too serious for a boy his age, the face of a child who never smiled. After all, Nik thought bitterly, what reason did he have to smile? But he had no eyes for the anger in his little brother's stare. An ugly bruise was rising on his cheek, and a little trail of dried blood ran from his split lip. He felt rage threatening to boil over.

"She hit you."

"She was drunk. When she started talking about you I told her to shut the fuck up and she hit me."

Nik's face went hot. What did she say about me? He wanted to ask, and didn't want to ask. "Don't use that word, Cal."

"I'm not going to let her talk like that about you." Fiercely, little hands clenched, his little brother so fierce and protective and small, his black hair all over his eyes again like a shaggy little pony. Nik sighed and rubbed his head.

"Just…I know. Just don't use it. Don't listen to her. She doesn't know what she's saying."

"I don't care," Cal said, and his voice was surprisingly full of venom. "I don't care if she knows. She still can't say it. And I'm a monster anyway. It doesn't matter."

"You're not a monster," Nik said, deadly earnest, "and if you say that again I'm going to send you to your room. Come on, we're taking that book back and getting another one."

"Which one?" Cal asked, sullenly.

"I'm going to find you a copy of Dracula," Nik said firmly. "It's about monster-slayers."

Cal looked at him, frowning a little. "All right." He hesitated. "I hate her, Nik. I wish she would die."

"Don't wish that on anyone," Nik said, and he was deadly serious. "I mean it, Cal. Never wish someone dead." Cal looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded.

"It's Caliban."

"Not to me, it's not," Nik said, firmly, "Come on. I have enough money to get some ice cream if you'll come take the book back with me."

Cal's head came up, his eyes brightening, the seriousness lifting for a moment. "Ice cream?"

"Yeah," Nik said, "Ice cream." And maybe Cal would forget about this, forget about Sophia and her cruel drunken words. Maybe he'd forget what he heard today.

But he didn't really think so.