ANNOUNCEMENT: UniversalForce changed her penname to FascinatingRhythm. Go check out her profile.

DISCLAIMER: This fan fic is a collaborative work of AngelicSpring and FascinatingRhythm and they own everything aside from The 39 Clues series which inspired these drabbles and one-shots.

Begin.

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KING COBRA VENOM (noun): During a bite, venom is forced through the snake's 1.25 to 1.5 cm fangs into the wound, and the toxins begin to attack the victim's central nervous system. Symptoms may include severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, and paralysis. Envenomation progresses to cardiovascular collapse, and the victim falls into a coma. Death soon follows due to respiratory failure. King Cobra Venom is a deadly defense mechanism of the Naja genus and one of the deadliest substances on Earth.

Branch Clue: Janus

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Luke Cahill eyed the box keenly, scrutinizing every little pattern. He ran his fingers across the proverbial insignia, wood-carved yet painfully familiar. It is the very same wolf which his little sister used to carve on her side of the dining table.

Trust little Jane to put something as precious as a Clue in something so... immature. King Cobra Venom... Who would have known?

"Luke!" someone called from deep inside the house and the said person means business. "Your son is looking for you!"

Luke sighed wearily, pressing his fingers on his temples. He closed his eyes slowly, pondering on what could young Winthrop want this time. Never had he dreamed of having a wife (a nagging one at that), much less a ball of energy in the form of his son.

Something tickled the side of his thighs. Luke's eyes flew wide open.

"Dada?"

Winthrop Cahill got the same scrutinizing look and the angular features as his father's. The little Cahill gave his father what could pass for a disappointed and disapproving look for an infant and continued on thundering his father's thighs with his little fists. Winthrop babbled unintelligible words, lisping a language that only father-and-son could understand. Luke Cahill rolled his eyes at him, placing Jane's box at his side.

"He wants you to play with him, Luke."

He faced Faith Esther Cahill nee Adler, taking in her hands on her hips, the stern look she was giving him and give it a couple of seconds, the exasperated huff of breath.

Faith puffed an angry breath out.

There it was, he thought ruefully. Nobody could ever argue with his wife when she's in that mood. Faith could be a lot more intimidating than her husband, especially when she wanted and when the moment demands for it. True, her wife could not be bested when it comes to looks – with her arresting amber eyes framed with thick and long lashes, her chestnut hair always tied in a messy bun, her regal posture which is suited far better for a queen – but her attitude is what took him in.

And he does not want to challenge aforementioned attitude now.

Luke Cahill placed both hands below his son's arms and carried him high in the air. Winthrop squealed with glee, shaking the box with every swaying movement.

Wait a moment, shaking the box?

"Winthrop, put that down this instant!" Luke prided himself for being calm and collected, always wearing his pokerface. But no way in all things related to Cahills is he letting his son play with something unbelievably priceless.

Faith plucked the box from their son's grip, earning an ear-piercing wail from little Mr. Cahill. Winthrop kept on reaching for his new 'plaything' and continued with his incessant tantrum. "You didn't have to shout at him, Luke," she chided austerely, shooting him a dark glance.

"If you must know, love," Luke replied, using a tone he reserved for soothing Faith's bubbling anger. "In your hands is something as precious as the world."

Winthrop's cries subsided into hiccups, leaving the scene silent save for the gentle zephyr. Leaves danced and branches swayed with the wind, completing nature's choreography. Faith knew where this conversation is headed and that is with the ever-so-mysterious serum which could supposedly bring eternal life or something akin to that.

"I don't need it, Luke."

Luke sighed, an edge creeping into his tone. His jaw remained set in that stubborn determination. "We are not having this argument again, Faith. I have made up my mind and that is final."

"You know, times like this provide me the question of why I married such an obstinate man," she smiled at him gently, placing a hand on his cheek. Winthrop Cahill kept quiet, watching the sight in front of him ardently. In his young, tender age, he became fond of moments like this in his family.

Luke Cahill coughed out a hard chuckle, devoid of anything but anger and resentment. "I am not obstinate. I just do not approve of the concept of giving up."

"Everybody dies, Luke," she whispered, kissing him on the forehead. Winthrop started to squirm, craving for his mother's affection, too. Noticing that his efforts are futile, he let out another high-pitched wail. Faith smiled at him, scooping their son out of Luke's grasp. "Well, then. It is getting late, is it not?" She tilted her face up to look at setting sun. "I shall be making dinner, then. Go inside after that business of yours, is that understood, Luke Cahill?" And with that, she walked inside with young Winthrop laying his head on his mother's shoulder.

Luke stared after his family, clutching the box in his hands again. Inside their humble abode, horrible coughing – that Luke knew came with blood as red as the fire that fateful night – shattered the silent repose Luke has made for himself. After five deep intakes of breath, the coughing subsided.

Luke stood up, brushing dirt off his trousers, his face set into one of sheer determination. "Not when I am still alive, Faith. Not while I am still alive."

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Characters: Luke C., Winthrop C., Faith C. (OC)

Author: AngelicSpring

Next: Magnesium, an Ekaterina clue, by FascinatingRhythm

When a girl cries for a boy, it simply means she misses him. When a boy cries for a girl, he loves her more than you could ever imagine.

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