"D-do you have to keep it?" Randy VIII looked over at Susan. "What'd they say?"

"He won't always have to wear it but we need to keep it and give it to him when he has an attack," said Susan, "It's got medicated air in it,"

Randy VIII nodded and reached up to brush a hand through Seven's hair. It was better than nothing...

Seven smiled and gave him a careful hug, "I'm OK Baby boy," he said.

"Stop scaring me like that," Randy VIII sighed, leaning the unbandaged side of his head against him and knowing there was nothing either of them could really do about that.

Seven did his best to comfort his brother while their mother took them inside, Susan didn't tell either of them what the medic had shared with her and when the children were safely inside and Seven was well enough to remove the mask she went to find Randy...

"What did they tell you?" asked Randy.

"They say he's gotten worse....they think he might be defective, they don't want to sterilize him just yet, they aren't sure it will affect his offspring, but they believe his human genetics aren't blending well with his schikelgruber genes. Schickelgruber genes are dominant and usually take over but in his case the human genetics were resistant and it's messed up his immune system, they said that one day his system might shut down completely and kill him....he's like a time bomb waiting to go off and even with his medication, every attack could be his last one," she was sobbing by the time she finished talking.

Randy's ears drooped and he held her close, kissing her head with a soft sigh. It had not been a good day for receiving news...

"It's not fair!" Susan cried, "Why did this have to happen to my baby? Seven is such a good boy...it's not fair!"

Randy stroked her hair and shushed her. "Life is not about fairness," he said. "We must take it as it comes."

"What if we lose him tomorrow? The day after? Maybe we'll get lucky and it will stay away for years but one day it's going to kill him...what do we tell Seven?" Susan asked.

Randy took a deep breath. "We will have to tell him the truth, exactly as it is," he stated.

"I...I don't know if I can," Susan confessed.

Randy looked at her, holding her face in his hands and brushing away a tear with his thumb. She was so beautiful, and she seemed so fragile in that moment. He kissed her. "I will talk to him," he said softly.

Susan kissed him back, "Thank you," she said blinking back more tears.

In the living room sat Seven, his mask off and his customary smile back in place as he quietly worked on a model of a human bi-plane as he did when he was feeling well enough to do something but too weak to run about.

Randy approached him, pausing to watch for a few seconds. "Number Seven..." he called gently. It wasn't a talk he looked forward to having, but it needed to be done.

Seven smiled at his father and put down his model to go and see what he wanted, "Yes Dad?"

Randy's ears drooped, though he maintained his calm expression. "We need to discuss your illness and what happened today."

Seven gave his dad a smile of encouragement, "It's ok Dad, I'm feeling a lot better already, you don't have to be worried," he gave his father a pat.

Randy grabbed Seven's hand and pressed it against his cheek, an affectionate gesture burdened with the heavy message that things went much further than Seven realized... "It could and likely will happen again."

Seven's smile faded, "Well, I know that...." he said softly, "...what else is going on?" his thumb moved across his father's cheek in a gentle and affectionate, but questioning gesture.

Randy gazed at him for a few seconds which seemed to drag on for hours before answering. "Your condition is getting worse, and even with the medication, a more violent episode may kill you."

Seven went very still, "Oh..." he said softly his features clouded, despite his large frame he suddenly seemed very small.

Randy wrapped his arms around Seven and held onto him in silence, letting shared emotions do the talking. He was worried, but he expected Seven to be strong. There was little to be done but to go about their lives, and try to take whatever precautions were necessary to prevent a recurrence. No one was yet certain when or whether such a thing would happen, and while it was important to be prepared, there was no sense in dwelling on an uncertainty.

Seven gave him a nuzzle, "D..Do you think maybe we can keep this between us? I don't want my brother's to worry, especially Eight, he's going to have so much going on it would only throw him off to know all this,"

Randy nodded. "I think you are right about that. At least for now."

"I'll tell Eight someday, but I wanna tell him myself, he's my favorite..." said Seven.

Randy smiled faintly. "I know. The two of you certainly have gotten close."

Seven nodded, "I've loved 'im since you brought 'im home....and I wanna always be there when he needs me. If I do die, then how can I do that?"

Randy smiled a bit more. "He will know that you were there for him when you could be. He will remember all you've taught him and all you've helped him do. He will be alright."

Seven nodded, "And Mama will be alright too?" he asked tentatively.

"It would be very hard on her... on all of us," Randy replied softly. "But nothing can be accomplished if we do not move forward. The same goes for you, boy. Life is nothing but uncertainty. There will always be pain and there will always be hardship, but it is what you make of it." He kissed Seven's forehead.

Seven nodded and even so he had never done any kind of military training or had even the slightest inclination towards being a soldier, he gave his father a salute and promised that he would be brave.

Randy returned the salute to signify that he was proud of his son and trusted his ability to handle whatever difficulties lay ahead.

Seven offered a weak smile and returned to his model plane, "Want to help me make this?" he asked.

"Alright," Randy agreed with a tilt of his head as he examined the plane. "Have I ever told you about the first time I rode in a human aeroplane?"

Seven shook his head, "What was it like?"

"Horrible! It was tiny and it shook and wobbled in all directions and I was sure it would fall apart right there in the sky!" Randy hissed. "I could scarcely move, though I fear that if I had, the entire vehicle would have tipped in one direction."

Seven laughed, "What did you do?"