Casca would have been less terrified if Dr. Gaul herself had stormed into the Snows' penthouse and pointed a gun at him. When he was nine years old, on one of his class field trips to Dr. Gaul's lab, several of the rats had escaped from their enclosure and bitten his leg, and he'd had to get five stitches. Andromache had also been bitten, but she was much braver than he was. He remembered screaming and sobbing hysterically while Andromache sat next to him on the cold laboratory floor, her leg more torn up than his, but somehow managing to remain calm and successfully fighting off any tears of pain or fear. The rats had found their way into his nightmares every night for weeks, and still did with relative frequency. He remembered going to school the next day and being teased by his classmates for being afraid. Maybe because she was bitten worse than him, or maybe in spite of it, Andromache was the only one who had stuck up for him.
Right now, in Crassus' apartment, Casca felt trapped between fear and humiliation. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run out of the dining room and down the building's 21 flights of stairs. He wanted to sprint out onto the street and keep sprinting until he got home. He knew, though, that Aeolus and Dr. Gaul shared stories, and word would spread that a few measly rodents had sent him running out onto the Corso. He would never be able to live it down if he did something so childish on account of a relatively minor incident nine years ago. Dr. Gaul would take any opportunity to humiliate Casca in front of his classmates.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his throat tightening, but he stayed silent and glued to his seat. In as casual a voice as he could muster, he simply said "lovely rats."
"Thanks," said Aeolus. "We've just started them on a new food so Dr. Gaul wants someone keeping an eye on them at night. Worried about their sleep patterns." Despite Casca's best efforts, Aeolus could apparently sense his fear because he added "don't worry, they won't bite."
"I wouldn't count on that," said Crassus, smiling. "I seem to recall them having a bit of a taste for human flesh." Casca turned to face Crassus.
"Will you shut up?" He mouthed. "It's not funny." Now he was starting to feel dizzy and thought he might pass out any second.
"Aeolus, can we have a moment?"
"Yeah no problem. Everything good?"
Crassus nodded. "Just working on a project. Don't want my big brother embarrassing me is all." Aeolus nodded and placed the fabric back on the cage.
"I'm sorry," Crassus said once Aeolus was gone. "Really. I forgot how much they scared you. Are you okay?"
"I guess. I could use some fresh air though. Shall we take a walk? Maybe the soap store is still open."
"I have a better idea. Follow me." Crassus gingerly folded up his sheet of paper and tucked it into his pocket along with a pen, then led Casca up the stairs to the second floor of the penthouse. Instead of going toward Crassus' bedroom, which was where they usually went, Crassus opened a door right beside the stairs which Casca had always assumed just led to a closet. Really, though, on the other side of the door was another staircase. This one, unlike the main staircase, was old and creaky.
"I'm technically not supposed to bring friends up here but I think my mom would make an exception for you."
"What's up there? I thought this was the top floor of the building."
"You'll see." They ascended the creaky staircase, and Casca thought they had reached a dead end at the top when Crassus pushed open one of the ceiling panels and clambered through it.
"Come on!" Casca very much did not want to climb through an ominous looking hole in the ceiling, but he didn't protest. He followed Crassus, and as he began through the hole he realized they had reached the roof of the building. Since he wasn't wearing a jacket, he braced himself for the December chill but instead found the temperature to more closely resemble a pleasant day in early May. Crassus pressed a button and a soft light illuminated the dark sky, revealing what must have been at least eighty rose bushes spread out across the roof with blooms in every color imaginable. Red, pink, purple, sunset orange, yellow, and many others.
"Woah! It's beautiful up here!"
"Yeah. My mom grows all of these. She keeps the heaters on so that they'll bloom year round." Crassus plucked a white bud off of a nearby bush and handed it to Casca. "For you. The colors are lovely, of course, but nothing says perfection like white. My mother won't miss it; just don't tell her I took it."
"Thank you." Casca placed the bloom gingerly in his shirt pocket and followed Crassus down a gravel path, winding between the roses until they reached a small fountain with a set of four chairs surrounding it. Crassus sat in one of them, and Casca sat next to him.
"That was terrifying."
"I know. I can tell Aeolus to move them into his room, if you want. Say they make too much noise and I can't focus."
"No, it's okay." Casca sighed. "Wow, your mom really did an incredible job up here. She must really love these roses."
"Yeah, the roses are like her third kid. She'd flip out if something happened to them. My dad once tried to get her to get rid of them so he could build a pool, he slept in the guest room for like a month after that."
"Wow. I don't think my mom would care that much if something happened to me. I don't think she likes me very much, to be honest," Casca said. His mother wasn't home all that much. When she wasn't working, which she was most of the time, she preferred to go out and have dinner and shop with friends. When she was home, she was more interested in lecturing him about homework than actually enjoying his company.
"Trust me, she would. People love their kids more than anything else, even if they don't always do a good job of showing it." Crassus paused and took a deep breath. "We should try to work on our assignment," he said gently. He pulled the folded piece of paper from his pocket. "Where were we?"
"I don't remember. Something about tattoos, maybe?"
"Ah, yes, I had just suggested tattooing their genitals before my idiot brother ruined the moment," Crassus said, which made Casca laugh a little. "What do you think?"
"I don't know, I feel like people might be into that. I've seen weirder fashion statements."
"That's a good point," Crassus conceded. "What if we let those rats loose on them?"
"They certainly did a number on me. It's been nine years and I'm still traumatized."
"Well, you handle it surprisingly well. It doesn't show." Crassus plucked another bloom from a nearby bush, this one a light periwinkle. He stripped its stem of thorns, then rolled it in between his fingers. "It's a shame we have to do such a gruesome assignment in such beautiful place."
"It is awful," Casca agreed. "I almost feel like I'm being punished myself. I feel like I'm… I don't know. With this assignment, all the assignments for this class… I hate the possibility — however remote it may be — that Dr. Gaul could get inspired by something I turn in. That I could, in some way, be complicit in whatever our government does to people."
"You're not. She's not that powerful. She doesn't call the shots," Crassus tried to reassure him, but Casca was unconvinced. He simply gave a noncommittal shrug, hoping that would satisfy his friend. "Any other ideas?"
Try as they might, they could not come up with a solid starting point. Several ideas were bounced around, some serious —— various methods of torture came up —— and some ridiculous —— like making them listen to bad rap music.
As Crassus started to drone on about an article he had read about some people having been stung by venomous wasps and having frightening hallucinations (maybe they could do something with that) Casca's mind wandered to the rose Crassus had given him, the beautiful white bloom. It was perfect, yes, but it was also so much more than that. The white made it look so fragile, so precarious. It reminded him of innocence, of naivety, of vulnerability. He thought back to Dr. Gaul's lab where the rats had attacked him, his own vulnerability in that moment. He remembered his mother and his father sitting with him in the emergency room as he waited for the doctor to come stitch his wounds. Even though he wasn't at any real risk of permanent damage or death, even though they weren't the most affectionate or caring parents, they were more scared that day than he had ever seen them. People love their kids more than anything else, even if they don't always do a good job showing it.
He thought about the horridness of this assignment, of all of Dr. Gaul's assignments, how awful it felt to face even the remote possibility that he could be complicit in someone else's suffering. An idea was forming in his mind, but it was so grotesque, so twisted, so despicable, that he couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud.
Apparently, Crassus could tell that Casca was no longer fully paying attention because he gave his shoulder a gentle tap. "Earth to Casca. What's going on up in that brain of yours?"
"Oh, nothing. I just had an idea but it's so horrible I can't even say it."
"Horrible is good, right? That's the assignment, after all."
"This is beyond horrible. We couldn't turn it in"
"If you won't tell me for the final project, at least tell me for curiosity's sake? I'm fascinated."
"I'm sorry, I can't. It's just too awful. Even between us."
"You know what your problem is?" Crassus asked. "You're too careful. You do good thinking, but then you're too afraid to talk about it." He paused. "But only when you're sober. I know what you need. Come on. We need to get some liquor into you. Let's go out."
"No way. I'm not even sure I'd be able to tell you in private, let alone at of a bar full of patrons."
"Come on, it'll be fine. No one will hear. Besides, it's been a while since we've gone out."
"Okay. You promise this will stay between us?"
"I swear it." In that moment, Casca was certain that Crassus would keep his word, and together they descended one staircase, then another, then an elevator, and stepped out into the cold night air.