The Price of Family
"Cousins," Professor confirmed from his bed. He'd been treated for the attack, but the doctors held him for further tests and observation. He would not be returning to court that day. Still, even if it meant delaying his girls' return, he wanted to make sure they heard this from him first.
"You were born together and raised together, but genetically you're not siblings. The closest analog to your situation is first cousin. This may not change anything you feel towards each other, but maybe... Between your lack of parentage, common or otherwise, and this..."
Blossom shook her head in confusion and doubt, wondering if her father had buried himself too deep into this mess to see past the smallest details. "But that still makes us family, right? How does that help?"
"I know," Buttercup said quietly. As with most trips through the Internet, you sometimes came across a few interesting side attractions on the way to your destination. She made sure to speak loudly enough for everyone to understand what she said next. "The law's different when it comes to cousins. Some states allow it and some states don't. Cousin relationships and even marriage is legal in California and a bunch of other states, and a lot of other countries, too."
Professor nodded. "That's right, sweetie." He spoke weakly, but while his body was weakened his mind remained sharp and his tongue true, every bit the lecturer his title claimed. "Genetically speaking, cousin relationships are nowhere near as dangerous as others, despite what a lot of people think. For millennia the human race has been moving forward through cousin couples. Especially in times before people could travel the world so freely. People, at least in our country, seem to forget how far that foundation has taken us, and for one reason or another exaggerate the problems with cousin offspring. Sadly, to the public, the idea of you girls being together as mere cousins is only marginally less distasteful. But to the law, I hope, there will be little choice but to let it go."
Processor decided it was best to send them on their way soon. If he waited until a doctor showed up to send them off they'd probably just listen in from the courthouse and be distracted from the task at hand. "I used old blood samples to confirm the testing at a lab. The doctor tested under false names, but he'll testify if needed. The court will probably order another test to be certain, in any case. You girls should head back there now and try to straighten this out. I'll be fine right here, and you can come see me as soon as you're free, all right?"
His daughters, for in his heart and theirs that is what they have always been to him, nodded. Bubbles was still wet-eyed, though it was more joy and relief than fear or sorrow. They took turns to hug him, gently, before they left together for the courthouse.
Some time later--Professor didn't have his watch and the clock on the wall seemed to have perished at 9:27 at some point in the past--a doctor finally did arrive, closing the door behind him.
"Professor," the man began, using that title of respect that the majority of the city employed for him. Whether out of habit or because that respect remained even through the current uncertainties, this man who was nearly as old as the Professor himself chose to continue using the word. This somehow pleased the Utonium father.
"I'm not sure what to say. These results are drastically different than those from your physical in April. It seems your heart has suffered some sort of severe trauma recently. Though if I had to say, even given what you and your girls get involved in, I'd be shocked if all this happened just this morning. Tell me, Professor, have you noticed anything unusual about the state of your health in the last few months?"
Professor thought he did, but he wouldn't share his suspicions. Perhaps Him could do no further harm in his lifetime. Perhaps Him would still have his soul when all was said and done. But that contract, he pondered, had allowed Him to strike out, even if it had been for the last time.
The damage had been done, it seemed, but Professor was grateful that Him hadn't decided to kill him though some speedier means, such as blasting his insides all over his lab.
"No, doctor, I can't say that I have. A few weeks--closer to a month ago I had what may have been a mild attack, now I think of it." He was already crafting the lie to distance his pain from his daughters. Shifted the time line to a point before things had started to fall apart. To such a time that even if stress received the blame, the stress of the last two weeks could not take it all.
"If that's the case then I'm afraid I have no explanation at the moment," the doctor replied. No doubt he still believed there had been something to trigger this. His tone seemed to imply that if Professor was lying, that telling the truth would somehow make it all better.
"So what about my current condition? And future?"
The doctor sighed. "Well, I suppose I can't say much about the future. Without knowing what brought this on or whether it will continue, you might not last this conversation. Assuming things progress normally from here, however, I can't say they're much better. I'm sorry, but the damage to your heart tissues is quite severe. The amount of dead tissue is simply... Even with what treatment we can manage, at best we can ease your suffering and extend your life. Perhaps even for a few years."
Professor locked onto that alternative. Had to. He knew Him was out of the picture, and had to imagine he'd have time to make it better. He was a mad scientist of sorts, after all. He'd even managed to create life. Maybe he could push medical science as he had chemical and mechanical.
"We could put you on the recipient list for a new heart, though I will admit, given the waiting--"
Professor shook his head three words into that sentence, and eventually interrupted it. "No, doctor, I don't think I'll allow that. Maybe if the organ cloning everyone says is just around the corner shows up, but even then, at my age, we know my chances of surviving the surgery are slim. Leave the donor organs for younger people, who have a better chance and more to gain."
"That is your choice," the doctor said. His tone indicated he thought it was the wrong one, even if he acknowledged it was the noble one.
"What sort of treatment are we looking at?"
"Well, your cholesterol is still about average, but you could stand to have those passageways as clear as can be. Unfortunately, we can't afford to risk even that small amount of potential damage in cleaning them. No, at best all we can offer are aspirin prescriptions, and some glyceryl trinitrate to place under the tongue if--when an attack does come on." The doctor paused, and apparently decided the details wouldn't be as useful as the broad picture. "Basically, we can't do much to prevent further attacks, short of keeping you rested. I'm not sure we can even safely justify cardiovascular exercise at this stage. Your heart is too damaged, and it can't limp on forever. At best we can reduce the severity of those attacks and hope you continue to hold out."
Professor nodded, understanding and, ultimately, accepting. "You said I might have a few years at best. What's the worst case? Assuming whatever caused this is done and gone, of course."
The doctor took a long, cautious breath. "To be perfectly honest, Professor... Had even today's attack continued without such prompt treatment... Well, we wouldn't be talking right now."