When Douglas drove them back to his lab, he explained the situation; after which Donald had suggested picking up some food. Apparently he'd heard that eating with people was a good way to quickly establish a bond with people. Marcus needed to learn to be able to form bonds. This would be the first time Marcus would eat fast food. He mostly ate protein pellets; though Douglas did allow him access to several sandwich constituents and snacks like pretzels and trail mix. Also dry spaghetti to munch on, a habit of Douglas' that enraged Donald. A habit he was now passing down.

Marcus sat there, staring at his burger. He'd only seen one on tv, and really didn't know what to expect. Douglas had been worried about his reaction since he picked up the food. Donald seemed to have been attempting to make a show of eating his, using emphatic movements in an attempt to demonstrate that it was ok to eat it.

Eventually he did take a bite. His face morphed into one of pure bliss and Douglas expected him to tear into it, but instead he seemed intent on savoring the flavor. Donald perked up with that development, ready to start bonding with his nephew.

"So, Marcus-" he started, only to be interrupted.

"How do you make this?" he asked Douglas, excitedly, gesturing to the burger.

"I didn't make it," he answered, bluntly.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"You know," said Donald, attempting to assert himself into the conversation, "if you're interested in cooking, I could get you some cooking classes."

"Really!?" he asked.

"No," Douglas cut in, attempting to corral what Donald had said.

"Dougie!"

"Eventually," he corrected, attention still directed to Marcus. "Not anytime soon. I don't think you're ready for that level of socialization." Marcus made an awkward facial expression, at having that brought into consideration. It was obvious he didn't think he was ready either.

"I can get him private lessons," Donald said, smugly, as if he was informing him of something.

"You could, but do you really want Marcus to learn how to trust through a bribe like this?" Donald didn't respond. "For now we should get him used to people, and then we can maybe get him some classes."

"It makes a good motivator," he conceded. They turned back to Marcus who was now staring at a half eaten fry. It took several moments for him to notice their gazes.

"What even is this?" he asked.

"A french fry," Douglas answered.

"I know, I watch tv, but what is it?"

"It's made out of potato."

"Awesome..." he popped the rest of the fry in his mouth.

"You should try eating an actual whole baked potato," Donald suggested.

"God- Donnie!"

"What?"

"Quit being weird. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were the one without any social experience."

"You're being weird!"

"I'm being casual!"

"I have to leave the room soon, huh?" Marcus asked. He was answered with silence for several seconds. Donald turned to Douglas who was trying to think through the best way to have this conversation. It obviously hadn't worked out so well the first time.

"It's not good for you to stay in here all the time," he eventually sighed. "The sooner you can get into the real world the better."

"But I know how to be here. I don't know how to be out there."

"Well you've seen Full house, right? And Friends? It's a lot like that."

"What about... Superman?"

"Well there's only one Superman in the shows. That would be you in this case."

"Speaking of which," Donald spoke up, "would you mind filling me in on that? The specifics I mean. What have you got to you, Marcus?"

"My bionics? I'm super strong, I have laser vision, and plasma grenades."

"And that's just chip A," Douglas bragged. "He has four other tested abilities on chip B and C."

"Yeah, but I haven't used them yet." Donald furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and opened his mouth to question that, only for Douglas to speak first.

"Yeah, that's a lie. He does that sometimes."

"No it's not," he argued. "No I don't."

"Marcus, just stop." Marcus complied, begrudgingly, pressing his lips tightly together, making a grumpy show of it. Douglas rolled his eyes at his son's antics. "Alright you little gremlin. Yes, you need to leave the room. Sooner than later. When I explained the situation to your uncle Don he suggested adjusting you from this room to a new room--at his house--and once you get used to that we can expand horizons past that. A slow adjustment, but it means leaving here. You get to choose between that, and just... you know, going out into public everyday and talking to people. We don't have to make it everyday at the beginning. You're just choosing between adjustment methods."

"Would I get to come back if I choose the other house?"

"Well you aren't gonna be banned or anything, but you won't be living here anymore. And the trip is a bit long, you might find you don't want to leave the barricade of the new home to make the trip here and back. I own the place so we can always visit back but we probably won't ever fully live here again." Marcus looked contemplatively at the table, as if inspecting it. "You don't have to decide right now, or even today. But uh... tomorrow would be nice." That earned a glimmer of a smile from Marcus. "You finish up your burger. I'm gonna go discuss something with your uncle."

Marcus nodded and Douglas took that as his queue to get up and drag his brother--who hurriedly shoved the last bit of his burger in his mouth--out the room.

0=0=0

"Every few years- well... twice, I've given him these brain scans to see how his artificiality lined up with natural development." He handed the scan printouts to his brother, who sucked air through his teeth.

"Yeah, that's not normal."

"I know. I've sifted through all my research. It might be related to the added bionics, but I can't track down the problem."

"You didn't consider the possibility that there was an issue on the first scan?"

"It wasn't that far off from the normal in the first scan," he defended. "Children develop at different rates, I figured it would even out eventually."

"And when it didn't?"

"I figured there was an issue with some of the specificities of the experiment that I would go back and prefect after I documented some of the behavioral differences. I honestly didn't think it would matter unless I ever wanted to test another neurological experiment, but now I don't know the difference between the chicken and the egg of the problem."

"See, this is your problem. You're always too eager to get things done. You can't combine experiments like this. You need a constant. You know this!"

"Yeah, yeah, we can curse my impatience later. That's not what this is about." Donald's only response was an exaggeratedly confused look complete with body language, urging him on. "It's just... I know I can't fix this, or backpedal, but I need to figure out what's best for him now." Donald nodded.

"I have a colleague in the field of neurology, who also happens to be a psychologist. If we got a few more scans for reference, especially one up to date, me and you could probably track down what this means for his mental state, but we'll need a psychologist to tell us what that means going forward. Consulting someone with a dual major would definitely be our best option."

0=0=0

When they left the side office and returned to the main room of the small home, they did not expect to find Marcus shoving his clothes into a fresh trash bag.

"Woah, what are you doing there, kid?" Douglas asked.

"We can leave. I picked leaving, so I'm packing."

"Well I could have given you a duffle bag," Douglas almost laughed. Marcus shrugged, continuing to shove clothes into the bag.

"I'm packing now, but can we wait until tomorrow to leave?"

Douglas turned to Donald. "Donnie, you cool crashing on the couch?"

"No."

CHAPTER 2: Meet Donald

0=0=0

"Alright, Marcus, ready to go meet your Uncle Donnie?"

"No..."

"Aw, c'mon Marcus. We have to." He started guiding him towards the door. Right before crossing the barrier, Marcus slammed his hands on the door frame, keeping them from passing. "Marcus! Wha-" He was cut off by and elbow to the ribs. It wouldn't have been an issue if he'd been expecting it. He'd trained Marcus with his own knowledge and abilities, and Marcus was much smaller and less experienced than him. But he wasn't expecting it. He stumbled as Marcus scrambled away from the door. "What the hell, kid? What are you doing?"

"You said not to ever leave the room!" He didn't sound confused about it, which meant he was dead set on what he wanted, or rather, what he didn't. This was gonna be annoying.

"Well now I'm telling you to leave the room," he sighed, trying not to roll his eyes.

"You said never."

"I know what I said. I've obviously changed my mind." Marcus only squinted and tilted his head,"What do you think this is? A test?"

"Yes." It was said with so much certainty. Douglas knew this wouldn't be the last realization of how he'd fucked up raising the kid. He wondered if the shock of each mistake becoming apparent would ever be less striking.

"It's not. If it was, calling out that it's a test would have passed you. We're really leaving." Marcus paused. Thinking through what he was being told.

"No."

"No?"

"I don't want to."

"You're really deciding to be difficult today aren't you?" Douglas could feel his patience running thin as Marcus crossed his arms stubbornly. "I'm not dealing with this right now." Douglas grabbed Marcus' arm and started pulling him towards the door. Marcus immediately started thrashing and screaming.

"Ok, Fine! Fine!" He dropped his grip on Marcus. "You stay in the room! I'll just bring him here!" 

The trip over allowed him to cool off, at which point he found himself retrospectively relieved he didn't force anything.

0=0=0

After milking his return to his brother for all the drama it was worth and an awkward few hours bringing him back to his secret lab, he found Marcus curled up, asleep in his capsule. It was almost unsettling to see him sleeping this way, as opposed to how he was supposed to sleep: standing up. A habit they'd broken in at least two years prior.

"Did you lock him in there," Donald exclaimed. Of course he'd assume the worst. Not that giving him the whole room was that much better, admittedly.

"Of course not Donnie." He opened the capsule door as Donald huffed at the nickname. Douglas crouched down to Marcus and nudged his arm. "Hey bud. I'm gonna have to cut your nap short." Marcus pried his eyes open.

"What," he grumbled. "I have a headache. Leave me alone."

"Marcus, listen. I know you have uh... reservations, but it's important for you to meet your uncle." Marcus' eyes shifted over to Donald and he shifted. Douglas stood up and Marcus reluctantly followed suit, half hiding behind him. "He hasn't really ever met anyone before," Douglas informed Donald sounding guilty and apologetic.

"Obviously," he said, before directing his attention to Marcus. "Hey, I'm your Uncle Donald."

"You want him to call you 'Uncle Donald,'" Douglas asked jeeringly. "Like the duck?"

"The duck?"

"You know Donald Duck has nephews, right? They call him 'Uncle Donald.'" Donald rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he turned back to Marcus. "You can call me Uncle Don- or just Uncle I guess, you only have one." Marcus nodded, seeming more comfortable. Maybe it was the casual nature in which the two brothers interacted, or maybe it was just a matter of adjustment that played out as Donald continued to not be a threat. Regardless of the reason, he seemed visibly more comfortable already, as minutely as it was. "What's your name?"

"You know his name," Douglas said, annoyed.

"I'm trying to get him to talk to me."