A/N: Thank you for those who have reviewed to tell me they are looking forward to this story. I'll tell you a secret, come closer, this was originally going to be a one shot showing the kids grown up and family life but then I thought no. Seren deserves her own story to shine, and so here we are. I hope you are as excited as I am for this adventure to start so without anymore waffling I'll leave you all to read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 1

My mum's voice reached me through the gate first.

'There she is. I see her!'

I trudged out of customs, my bag rumbling behind me, a pained expression on my face as I saw my mum waving animatedly at me over the heads of other people waiting for their loved ones. She had a wide beaming smile on her face, her dark brown hair shot through with fine streaks of grey was pulled back into a messy bun. The corner of my mouth twitched at the sight of her chaotic welcome, a smile forcing its way through despite my sour mood. Then my gaze fell on the two figures stood next to her and the smile died on my lips.

My father was easy to spot, towering over most of the gathered people. The first thing you always noticed, after his imposing height of course, was his eyes. Two brilliant chips of ice, gleaming in his subtly age lined face. They bored into me, as if reading my mind and I suddenly felt 7 years old again. He had never raised his voice to me as a child, all it had taken to quell any tantrum or naughty episode I was going through was a long hard stare. It unnerved me to this day that one of my defining features was those very same eyes. That and my extremely pale skin.

He glanced down briefly at the other person stood next to him, his mouth moving as he answered something they were saying. My attention was drawn to them automatically and I saw my brother for the first time in a year. And how had he grown. He now only stood a foot shorter than my father. His thick mop of curly brown hair reaching the others ear level. They both wore the same stoic expression, and both had their arms crossed across their broad chests but apart from the that they were as different as chalk and cheese.

Where my brother boasted a full head of hair, my dad was completely bald. Always had been. Where my father's eyes were piercing and unique, my brother's were a warm shade of muddy brown. And where my father's face was all angles and well-defined lines, my brother had a smooth, rounded face, some of the baby fat still evident around the cheeks. My brother was definitely a Williams, whereas – for obvious reasons – I was completely a Rieper.

I moved towards the odd family grouping, my mood darkening with each step. As I came to a wary stop in front of them I came under attack from my mum, who launched herself at me, enveloping me into a bear hug. There was a brief moment of alarm where I instinctually wanted to react to her unexpected advance; my brain kicked into overdrive calculating the exact force I should need to floor her instantly. I felt my muscles tense and a pure shot of adrenaline flood my system but I was just able to rein it at the last second and let the contact happen. I was acutely aware however of my father's knowing, and disapproving gaze as he caught the movement.

'Cariad, my cariad. It's so good to see you.' Her voice was muffled as she spoke into my shoulder. It seemed out of all of us, my mum's height genes had remained stubbornly with her. With Rhydian's sudden growth spurt it looked like she would spend the rest of her life looking up to see our faces. Despite my dour mood a budding warmth began to spread in my stomach at my mother's loving embrace. She finally let go and held me at arm's length to see me better. Her kind round face beaming up at me.

'You look exhausted. Beth ydych chi wedi bod yn ei fwyta?' What have you been eating? I sighed dramatically at her motherly concern and answered in a peeved tone.

'Mwy nag y dylwn I fod, ma.' More than I should be, ma.

It felt alien to be speaking welsh again. It had been a year since I was last home and I had no reason to use it in Vienna. Suddenly I felt even more displaced than before; and as my mum herded us out of the airport and towards the car I hung back feeling like an outsider.

My father glanced briefly over his shoulder and then perfectly matched his steps to walk in line with me. I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to hear his obvious lecture on how I shouldn't try and attack my mother in a public place. Over the years, his ham-fisted lessons on my growing, enhanced abilities had become the bane of my existence. It had got to a point where I had been terrified to even shake hands for fear of breaking someone's arm. My mum had put an end to it all, claiming what would be would be, anything was better than a half-panicked child scared over whether she may or may not kill someone when she was trying to do the shopping.

The silence stretched between us as we continued to walk. Our similar gaits matching perfectly. Finally, I felt the air shift next to me as my father prepared to speak. An auspicious moment.

'Your mother's been driving me mad getting ready for your arrival. Apparently, a month to prepare wasn't nearly long enough.' His deep monotoned voice was familiar and unwelcome all at the same time.

'What was she doing?' The surprise at not being scolded and lengthy sentences made me confident about delving deeper.

'Getting a surprise ready for you. I'd watch out. Knowing your mother, it's never something subtle.'

A snort of laughter escaped me, and I felt the shock flash across my face. There was a heavy pause as I watched my mum and brother load my bag into the sleek black Audi. Then my father laid a large hand on my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

'It's good to have you back Seren.' He said in a low voice before moving off to the driver's door. I stared at him in astonishment. That had been a very rare display of emotion from my apparently closed of father.

'Get in then Seren bach.' My mum chirped at me. I pulled a face as I slide into the back seat next to my brother.

'Ma, I'm 23. Please don't call me that.'

She twisted around from where she was in the passenger seat as my father started the car. Reaching out she pinched my cheek in a deliberately aggravating way.

'Oh, you'll always be my little star, honey bunch.'

I felt the place where she had pinched me heat up, but not from the pain. I sank into my seat, folding my arms across my chest like I used to as a teenager. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Rhydian grinning from ear to ear. I levelled a deadly glare at him, channelling my inner dad into my eyes. I'd make him pay later for smirking at me, preferably with a few bruises. Then I caught sight of a very similar glare in the rear-view mirror and I resolved to plan a much subtler revenge.


The farm was exactly the same. If the world changed at a pace faster than most could handle, if technology was now overtaking our need for it at an alarming rate, if all the wars and fluctuating politics ever got me down, I could count on Bryn Ddu farm always remaining exactly as it was since I last left.

As we drove up the one lane track from the village I saw a distant flock of sheep on the hillside. Memories of herding them with my mother flashed through my mind's eye. I had loved to help on the farm as a child, but as the awkward, identity disrupting phase of my teens hit, the willingness to muck out horses and wrestle ewes had died off bit by bit. Sometimes I felt myself longing take off across the scrubland again, usually on my beloved pony Ghost with Bran, the shaggy sheepdog by my side. I had been a regular country girl. Then the longing past and I became grateful for my busy, city life.

'Now when we get home I don't want you going anywhere near the barn. Is that understood Seren?' Her tone was stern but there was a joviality to it that betrayed what this was really about.

'Of course, ma. Don't go near the barn. Got it.' I replied in a weary voice.

Again, those cold blue eyes flashed to me in the mirror, but before I could read them they were back on the road ahead. We continued on in silence until we were through the thick forest that ringed our farmland and headed towards the small collection of rough, grey stoned buildings that made up the farm itself.

Nostalgia pricked at me as I felt myself craning forward to look at it. This was the place I spent the first 7 years of my life and consequently grew up in. It was where me, ma and Uncle Rudy lived a simple, if not slightly restrictive life style, but it had been all I had known. Until he showed up. I may not enjoy coming here but I still had an emotional attachment to the place.

The car came to a stop outside the old farmhouse and at once a cacophony started somewhere across the yard as two dogs came dashing towards the car. Mum got out first to deflect the welcoming committee. They fell upon with wagging tails and lolling tongues. I recognised one, a black and white sheepdog called Tegwyn who had replaced my lovely Bran. The other was an anomaly. A large St Bernard that towered over Teggy and really had no place on a welsh sheep farm.

'Who's the newcomer?' I asked, getting out of the car. Teggy quickly detached from my mum to come and give me a perfunctory hello, although markedly less enthusiastic than my Bran's would have been. The St Bernard however gave me a distrustful look, unsure of my scent and probably aware of my underlying danger, as most animals often were.

'This is Edison.' I raised a single eyebrow. A trait I had picked up from my father and had never been able to shake.

'Edison?'

'Rudy named him.' I looked at my brother who shrugged by way of reply.

'Still a science nerd then?' I said, taking my bag and dragging it towards the house. I could feel my brother's disgruntled glare burning into the back of my head. Unfortunately for him winding him up was one of my favourite past times whilst at home.

My room was as I had left it. Like everything else in this place. I placed my suitcase next to my bed and collapsed onto it, even though I was barely tired from the journey; one advantage of being a genetically engineered super human. I listened as my family moved below and let my eyes wander over the various posters and ornaments I had collected over the years. My father had brought me back something from every 'work' trip he went on, just like a regular dad who travelled would. The only difference was what he was doing on those trips definitely didn't involve spreadsheets and conference calls.

I closed my eyes and let my heightened hearing focus on the conversations downstairs. I didn't usually like to use my abilities if I could help it, but a lot of the time I didn't realise I was doing it; like when I had tried to attack mum. Her voice reached me now as I lay quietly above them.

'I'm just asking you to go easy on her. We haven't seen her for a year and I don't want her running for the hills the minute she's finally back.' A long pause.

'I wasn't aware I was doing anything other than going easy.' My father's cool monotone answered. He always sounded like he was talking to a stranger instead of his own wife and children.

'I know you don't mean to do it, but you've always been harder on Seren than her brother. You're just trying to look out for her, I know, I know but the girl has a limit…and so do I.'

'I'll try to do better.' Came his clipped response. Typical.

'Thank you. Rudy, can you lay the table please.' She raised her voice on the last sentence and I heard an irate grumbling coming from another room.

'I've just started soldering the circuits ma, can it wait?'

'Rhydian, lay the table. I won't ask you again. That robot can wait, not dinner.'

I rolled my eyes even though they couldn't see me. Rhydian had turned into a textbook teenager in my absence. At least mum didn't have to deal with his freakish strength whenever he disagreed with her. Chagrin flooded through me as I remembered the way I had acted when I was his age. God, this visit was turning into a regular roller coaster of emotions. Sometimes I envied my father for being so closed off.

I stayed strategically out of the way, the sounds of the house fading in and out of my attention – I didn't want to eavesdrop on them all evening. Slowly the smell of my mum's home cooking reached me and I couldn't help my mouth watering, anticipation making me excited. It had been a long time since I had tasted her stew. I sensed dinner was ready before she had even called it and had to stop myself from flying down the stairs and earning myself a disapproving look from them both. She was just calling us all when I appeared in the kitchen doorway.

'Dinner's ready, everyone come and – oh, Seren, that was fast.' I waited for the look of shocked worry to clear from her expression before taking a plate and ladling some stew onto it deliberately slowly. That hadn't been the fastest I could move but I guess time apart muddied people's memories. Speaking of muddied memories, my annoyingly tall brother was next in line, skirting round me to pile his plate high with stew and nab at least six slices of bread.

'Hey, gormod. Put some back, you're not a duck.' Rhydian gave her a surly look before reluctantly giving up three slices. Mum still didn't look happy but I could see she wasn't going to fight it. He left the kitchen, the tense atmosphere that preceded a parental fight dissipating with his absence. My eyes drifted of their own accord to the small scar above her eyebrow. That had been a souvenir from when I had rebelled against my mum. I had only been 3 but the butter knife I had thrown had left its mark all the same. I could feel my cheeks heating up with shame of the memory. Without another word I ducked my head and left the kitchen.

We sat at the dining room table. The picture of a perfect family. My father and brother ate in typical silence and I wasn't really in the talkative mood, still pining over my adopted home. Mum chatted away for all of us. I could see my brother struggling to ignore her, irritation bubbling just under the surface. My father ate as if he was the only one in the room, although now and again he would adjust his position slightly when mum did something he wasn't expecting. In a small way it was evident how much they were bonded; moving in sync often times and gravitating towards one another without noticing it. But from an outside perspective my father would have appeared cold and distant to his partner.

'So how is Vienna cariad? Does it look amazing with the Christmas lights?'

I blinked, in a daze, realising my mum was asking me a direct question. The room fell silent as her constant stream of chatter was broken, waiting for my response. I cast a glance around the table at my brother and father; the former was still eating away determined to ignore his embarrassing family as much as humanly possible, the latter however had paused, his intimidating gaze fixed on me.

'Um…I guess it does.' I began tentatively. 'Vienna always looks amazing from my point of view so it's hard to say if it looks better or not this time of year.' I tired adding a weak smile, hoping this simple answer would be enough for my precocious mother. It wasn't.

'And what about the orchestra? Are they keeping you busy? I barely hear a peep from you when you're there.' A pang of guilt hit me as I looked at her wide, eager brown eyes. I really hated myself sometimes for how I had distance myself from my mum particularly. She had been the one to rescue me from a life of killing and blind obedience after all.

'Yeah, they do. We have a lot of concerts throughout the year and if we're not performing or rehearsing we're travelling around the country.' My mum's smile widened as I drip fed her tid-bits from my life. I felt my father's gaze lower slowly as I continued to answer. Evidently, I had been under judgement whilst he waited for me to answer my mother respectfully. My brief moment of guilt evaporated as I shot a pointed look at him. Mum tensed beside me.

'So, any young men caught your eye yet? I hear the Austrians are quite the gentlemen.'

That brought my attention snapping back to her. 'No. No men. None at all.' My words shot in sharp staccato bursts, the pitch of my voice bordering on supersonic. Now everyone's eyes were completely focused on me and I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn under the scrutiny. Even my chirpy mother, who acted oblivious to what she was saying most of the time, sharpened her attention on me.

'Are you sure? You've gone a lovely shade of red cariad. You're almost matching the curtains.' She said smoothly, her expression with odds with her gentle tone. It felt like she was gearing up for an interrogation.

Oh crap.

'I'm sure ma. Like you said, I'm too busy spending all my time at orchestra so no time for boys – I mean men – I mean…'

'I assume the Vienna Philharmonic allows men as well as women to join, so you must spend some time with the opposite sex.' My father's cool monotone cut through the awkward atmosphere like a precisely thrown dagger. My mum shot him a triumphant smile, then turned back to me with a wolfish look in her previously innocent eyes.

Double crap.

'Yes, they do, but…look, we don't have much time to socialise and when we do we just talk about music, and really most of the men are either married or taken, and even if I was seeing someone, which I'm not, I wouldn't tell you because you'd just all scare him off by picking him apart and looking at him like one of your targets, like you're doing to me now!'

I sucked in a heaving gasp of air after my rapid-fire outburst. Silence settled on the table like dust after an explosion. My mum was the first to move. She blinked, her expression the picture of a mortified mother.

'Seren bach. We're just curious. And of course we wouldn't scare him off.' She glanced at my father who was still staring at me suspiciously, his look dark. 'Would we dear?' She asked him pointedly. When my father didn't respond I saw my mum's body jerk as she aimed a hard kick at him from under the table. My father, for his part, didn't break eye contact with me but instead let out a barely audible grunt.

'No.'

'You see?' I gave my mum an incredulous look but her smile didn't waver.

'Fine. But there really isn't anyone. Promise.' I shot this last word at my father who slowly raised one eyebrow in response. Insufferable man. No wonder I had no interest in a love life with an example like him.

Rhydian had remained silent through all the drama, the only one nearly finished with his food. He tilted his head quizzically at me now, his eyes - although not as hypnotising as our father's or as razor sharp as mum's – were focused on me with a single-minded intensity.

'So, if there's no man, maybe there's a woman?' I turned the full force of my murderous glare onto my brother's stupid grinning face.

'Rudy, don't tease your sister.' My mum scolded, but my brother was having none of it. He had hit a nerve and he couldn't help tweaking at it.

'Come on ma, it's a valid question. We have to explore every possibility when trying to find the answers.'

'I am not one of your fucking science experiments nerd.' I hissed at him through clenched teeth.

'Seren! Language!' Mum's voice was rising now, but much like my brother the red mist had descended and there wasn't much I could do now to stop it.

'Yeah Seren. Don't want to corrupt my poor innocent mind now with your lesbian ways.' A feral snarl ripped up my throat and I was on my feet before I could think.

Everything seemed to slow down to a crawl as the adrenaline coursed through me, switching on the underused parts of me I preferred to forget existed. A small voice in the back of my head whispered that I should calm down even as I closed my fist around the knife, but all my senses were zeroed in on my infuriating brother and his mocking grin. I'd wipe that smile off his face, the little bastard.

Faintly I heard my mum exclaim as I raised my arm to aim it squarely at his head. It wasn't a sharp knife so it wouldn't kill him but some unbidden, animal part of my subconscious told me exactly how much it would hurt and my body thrilled in response. My mum was frantically speaking to me in an effort to calm me down but it was too late, I had my target and I was taking the shot.

I was vaguely aware of her abrupt shout of, '47!' And then the one person I had foolishly not kept track of in the room was by my side as if he had materialised there. A strong hand wrapped around the wrist holding the knife and twisted it painfully at a 90-degree angle. The other snaked around my neck and tightened like a boa constrictor, restricting my air flow enough to hold me but not suffocate. My father held me on the edge of choking, my back and arm screaming in pain as he refused to let go. I knew better than to struggle and eventually my hand loosened and the knife fell to the floor with a harsh clatter.

There was a moment of tense silence, then my mum seemed to deflate in her seat. Her eyes shining as if on the verge of tears.

'Oh Seren.' She murmured. I remained tensed against my father, the animal part of me still trying to work a way out of this. But my logical brain had regained some semblance of control and I relaxed against his hold. Sensing my submission he let go, giving me space to catch my breath but still staying unnaturally close in case I decided to go crazy again.

Once the oxygen and excess adrenaline had worked its way out of my system I straightened up and took in the scene before me. My mum about to cry, her shoulders sagging where she sat, my brother his hands gripping the table, half stood, his eyes bright with excitement but no smile on his face. He looked terrified. And my father towering over me, his expression deadly as he watched me carefully massage my now aching wrist.

'Apologise to your brother.' This came not from my mother but the man stood next to me. He may have been wearing a faded plaid shirt and worn jeans, the wrinkles around his eyes might be more prominent and the frown lines around his mouth deeper but he looked every inch the deadly assassin he used to be. It was as if he was looking at an intruder that had broken into his family home and threatened them all at gunpoint, not his own daughter. Not his near identical clone. Or maybe that was what he was looking at. A perfect copy, as sleek and dangerous as he was.

I could feel the tears coming even as I forced myself to look at my shaken brother - who I had never threatened like that in my life - and mumbled a despondent, 'Sorry.'

Then without further provocation, as if I was 13 not 23, I slunk away from them and up to the exile of my room.