Trucy doesn't like seeing doctors. It's not that she hates them or anything, of course. It's got more to do with the fact that, whenever one is nearby, it means something bad has happened to her or, even worse, to someone she cherishes. Usually, it's Daddy, because Daddy is always unlucky: he finds the weirdest ways to get injured even if, all things considered, he's always lucky with what he gets in the end. Her Daddy is made out of steel!

There is a silver lining to this, she supposes. The doctors and nurses are always nice to Daddy and her whenever they see them. The nurses tell her it's going to be fine and even give her candy sometimes, because Trucy spends a lot more time in clinics that she'd like to admit. The doctor usually wears a kind smile, tells her Daddy or she is going to be fine, and then leaves with a list of medicine the other has to go get. That's why she likes doctors, but doesn't like seeing them, if that makes sense.

But today, it's different. Even the doctor – a tall, tan woman with short dark hair – examining Apollo seems worried about something, as if seeing some darkness neither Daddy nor her can see just yet, while she takes his pulse and counts the time between his breaths.

They've tried waking him up for a good five minutes, but he won't bulge, so they proceed to the next step without him being there to see it. She turns her head to the side when the doctor finally gives up and pulls out a penlight out of her lab coat, then peels Apollo's eye open to check something, only to mumble words she can't understand under her breath. It doesn't sound good, that's for sure.

Trucy can only partially look at the scene of the examination, so she only listens to what gets mumbled and reminds herself of the names of the tools used so many times on her Daddy. She doesn't understand the words, yet they all sound terrible: dyspnoea, tachycardia, risk of hyperpyrexia. Even their spelling is foreign to her. Daddy's never used such words in front of her.

That's when the doctor turns her head to her, facing her with a frown.

"So, your dad told me you were with this boy when he collapsed, is that right?"

Trucy nods. She doesn't like where this is going.

"Do you mind if I ask you some questions about what happened?"

"N-no." Her poker face is in shambles.

"Was he coughing often?"

"I… I'm sorry! I… I wasn't paying too much attention, because I was preparing my magic show, b-but… I remember hearing someone cough very loudly nearby, and a lot too. Polly had a very rough voice, even more than when he's in court and did his training all night long, and he… he coughed like that right before he passed out, so… it must've been him." The realization barely has the time to sink inside her mind before her heart sinks with it.

"Did it seem like he was choking when he did?"

The imagery sends her for a spin, but she shakes her head and replies as truthfully as possible. The moment is replaying in her mind, vivid, loud and deafening…

"Po… Polly seemed in a lot of pain. He had a hand on his chest and was clutching his shirt, a-and then he… he passed out! I… I thought he'd never stop coughing too, it… it really sounded painful…"

The doctor scribbles something on her notepad, before looking back at her and staring at her cape. Her eyes grow wide with stupor.

"Did… Did he spit anything when he did so?"

"Spit…?" She doesn't follow.

"On your cape, there."

The doctor's finger prompts Trucy to remove her cape and look at it, only to notice a stain she really didn't see in the mirror this morning, or even when she was shopping with Apollo and glanced at her reflection in the glass windows or mirrors they'd come across. It hasn't dried yet, so it should be easy to remove, but she also doesn't know how it got there. Its colour is weird too: it's green with some red lines. How did it get there, and when? It doesn't even look like it comes from a gum…

"That's… That's bloody sputum," the woman says as she examines the cape.

"Bloody what?" Daddy questions, fear in his voice.

"More or less, goo people spit out when they're sick. It's also not supposed to have blood in it, unless…"

The doctor glances back at Apollo, the tense aura around her intensifying.

"…haemoptysis."

It may be another word she doesn't understand, that doesn't mean Trucy doesn't know it's bad news. A glance at the thermometer she's been fiddling with all along tells her it can only be worse from what she thought before: it reads 104.1 and, for a second, she prayed the thermometer was playing a trick on her.

In the end, the doctor gives her back her cape and rises to her feet, a solemn expression on his face.

"So, what's the verdict?" Daddy asks, his tone filled with nothing but dread and the worry that is wrinkling his face.

"If I were you, I'd bring this boy a hospital asap. My diagnosis can only be verified there and, judging by his condition, he's gonna need the additional breathing assistance."

"What does Polly have, Doctor?!" Trucy demands with a trembling voice that doesn't carry her words properly.

She really doesn't like the expression of anguish she's seeing on the woman's face. Not a single bit.

"Acute lobal pneumonia. One that's had some time to fester too."

She's going to regret asking, and yet, it escapes her lips: "what is that?"

"It's an infection of the lungs, miss," the doctor tries replying with honey over her words. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to get to. I'll write you down an ordonnance, although I really advise you to bring him to a clinic or something, and soon."

"Understood," Daddy replies as he pays for the exam.

He sees the woman to the door, then turns back to his daughter, while she hesitates on grabbing a bucket.

"I'm going to call for an ambulance. Trucy, please keep an eye on Apollo while I'm on the phone."

"Got it, Daddy…"

However, before he can start his call, his sleeve gets seized by a clumsy, trembling hand.

"D-Dad…"

Trucy's heart skips a beat. This isn't her voice.

"…Apollo?" Daddy turns his head to the source, only for his face to distort, prompting him to kneel to the sofa.

"D-don't leave… a-again."

The words are difficult to understand because of how raspy and low his voice is combined with the coughing fits and the occasional goo that escapes from his mouth. Without thinking about it, Trucy lands her handkerchief to the task, her mind almost blanking out as she does so.

That's also when she notices Apollo isn't looking at either of them.

Rather, his eyes are glassy and keep trying to focus on something, even when they close much too often for a detail analysis from his coughing fits and the fatigue that must have crawled inside his bones. Every time her hands get near his face, she feels a radiating heat from his skin, and he doesn't react to her now gloveless fingers trying to keep his two strands of hair out of his view. Despite what she remembers of being sick – of recoiling when Daddy's cold hand touched her warm forehead – Apollo doesn't seem to feel it at all. Is he…

Is he even there with them?

"What's happening, Daddy?" She asks, afraid, not coming to an understanding of the situation that just took a turn for the worst.

"I'm pretty sure Apollo's delirious," he replies with a bad job pretending not to be in the same emotional state as she is: she can easily tell he's worried and scared, just like she is, and it frightens her even more in return. "I'm definitively calling for an ambulance."

Apollo's hand continues to grip onto Daddy's vest as he says things she doesn't quite pay attention to on the phone. Instead, Trucy is concerned about the fact Polly thinks her dad is his dad, when his dad isn't here anymore, and he shouldn't be calling for someone who isn't here anymore – so that means Polly isn't here with them, he's somewhere else, and it concerns her even further. She furiously taps on her phone, searching ways to fight against "deliriums" and how to lower someone's fever, because her mind is completely empty on the matter – she's just never seen someone that sick before!

A clammy, burning hand makes her yelp and let go of her phone, which falls onto the ground with a light tatter. When her eyes cross Apollo's, however, they're filled with tears that weren't quite there until now, and she notices his expression has worsened: this isn't just pain she's reading on there. At least, not physical pain.

"M-Mom…?" His voice is nothing more than an agonizing whisper. "Y-you're… you're back…?"

Mom? Why would Apollo call for his mother? She hasn't been in his life for so long that he told her he couldn't remember a single thing about her, not even her face or her name; that all he had left from her was the bracelet that, even now, is still firmly sticking to his wrist. Back then, when he told her about it, she could sense some anger in his words because, to him, it must've looked she had abandoned him, which seems true. Someone needs to be taught a good lesson!

Wait. If he's got no parents, and seemingly no friends, as she's never seen him hang out with anyone… does that mean Apollo is always on his own? Without anyone to care for him and make sure he's as fine as he pretends to be? Without anyone to take care of him when he's… Oh God. That's why he came to work! Because, in his mind, he was all alone, left to his own devices!

How… How did she not think of this sooner?!

"They should be here in around ten minutes," Daddy finally discloses, still staring at his phone screen with a frown.

"I'll… I'll go fetch a bucket," she replies, voice weak. If what she's read online is true, then…

Before Daddy can add anything, Trucy rushes to the bathroom again, this time picking up the item she's searching for, then filling it with the coldest water possible. She then washes her handkerchief as much as she can, which doesn't entirely remove the stains it's endured, and waddles as fast as possible back to the couch.

There, she puts the bucket down and starts washing, as thoroughly as possible, Apollo's face from the sweat that keeps popping up on his temples and all over his face.

"What are you doing, Trucy?" Daddy asks her. "The ambulance's gonna be here soon."

"I… I just feel like Polly must be feeling very uncomfortable, right now," she says it as if the concerned party wasn't awake, "so I'm trying to make him feel even a bit better. Even if it's a tiny bit, then it'll still be worth it."

He kneels next to her, right as Polly's eyes close again, his frown softening a little.

"Well, guess it's working," Daddy comments with a little smile, but that's before his face sours. "Trucy, can I tell you something important?"

"Ah, I… I guess so."

He puts a hand on her shoulder, then pulls her against him. She wonders what the "important thing" could be, or why he's telling her now, when the timing couldn't be worse, when Apollo should be their priority because he… Oh God. He could die. That's why even the doctor was so worried. Polly could… could die.

Still, she needs to keep herself in check. She needs to be strong, for Polly, for Daddy. As such, she decides to shake her head and dismiss these thoughts. Surely Apollo won't let this get the best of him, will he? Yeah! She needs to believe in him a little more. He's going to make it, that's a fact. (In the meantime, that doesn't mean she isn't worried, and Daddy's strange want to suddenly tell her about this important something really doesn't make her feel any easier…).

"What I'm going to tell you will seem ludicrous, but I promise you, it's the truth."

"Why telling me about it now, Daddy?"

"Because Apollo mistook you for his mother. For your mother."

Is it what she thinks it is?

"What… What do you mean?"

"I've actually talked with both of your biological parents. Your mother is still alive, Trucy."

"She… She is…?"

But then, what he's saying is…

"You happen to look at lot like her. At least, you seem to, in Apollo's memories."

"But then, does it mean that…"

"I'm sorry. I should've told you earlier, and I wish Apollo would be conscious enough to hear it loud and clear, but I feel like I owe you that explanation before the situation evolves," Daddy takes a breath, clutches her, and finishes his train of thought. "Apollo and you have half-siblings. Your mother, Thalassa… is also his."

The statement doesn't fly over her head, far from it. It doesn't mean she isn't shaking from the sudden bomb which just got thrown onto her, almost without a warning.

"B-but how?!"

"That, I wasn't able to know, I'm afraid. That's all my investigation turned up."

A storm is going through her mind, yet none of it forms any coherent group of words she could reply with. Instead, she just stares at the suffering form of Polly… of her big brother, with tears prickling her eyes and trembling hands. A soothing hand is rummaging through her hair, prompting her to notice her hat must have fallen off at some point without her noticing.

The knock on the door, then Daddy's arms letting go of her, brings Trucy back to reality. A couple paramedics enter the room and, before she can fully realize it, it's just Daddy and her in the office, her wet handkerchief having fallen to the ground when things were moving too fast for her to catch onto them, the gloves she took off earlier and her dirtied cape.

"Let's follow them, Trucy," Daddy tells her as he gives her his hand with a saddened gaze.

"…yeah," is all she replies as she gets back on her feet, fumbling with the brooch on her cape, and putting her hat back on.