A/N: Hello everyone! I have another decently long chapter for ya, AND we've finally hit the actual game! From here on out Iris and co. are going to have some not-fun, no-good, very-bad times (at least for the next two chapters. Her birthday isn't going to be as fun as she hoped :/). Like I wrote in the summary, I'm following the peaceful playthrough of the game, my personal favorite, and I hope you all like it, too!

November 5th, 2038.

Iris' 26th birthday.

The morning was like any other. She woke up decently early at eight, with Monster trailing behind her like a fluffy shadow, and made waffles, bacon, and eggs. Carl was still completely conked out in his bed, and probably would be until nine or ten in the morning. Old coot needs his beauty rest, Iris inwardly teased. She had a cigarette, made some raspberry compote for the hell of it, and watched a bit of the news. More deviants. Lowered stocks. Homeless rate rising. More of the same, she deemed.

Markus was up and out of the mansion at seven thirty. Iris' father ordered some paints the night before and he was to pick them up in the city when Bellini's opened so Carl could paint after breakfast. It'd be a while before he returned, so Iris was alone with Monster for at least an hour or so.

"Monster!" She called sweetly to him. He trotted up to her, rubbing his side against her leg as she walked through the living room. "Do you know what today is?"

Her arms grabbed around his middle and she brought him up to her chest, readjusting the position quickly to hold him like a baby. His belly was out to her, and her fingers nonchalantly rubbed at his tummy. "Guess, kitten. What day is it?"

Wide blue eyes stared up at her, no chirp, meow, or purr to be heard.

"I said guess, Monster!"

God, I'm a crazy cat lady, she thought with a silly grin.

"Mrow?" Monster said. His front paws stretched out over her arm, and she could feel his little claws digging into the skin as he kneaded.

"Yes." Iris nuzzled her face into his soft black fur. "You're so smart."

In a second he flipped over in her arms and flung himself off. He could only take so many belly rubs before he turned into an evil clawed warrior and gave her some scratches.

"What should I do while I wait for dad and Markus?" Iris asked her kitten.

Monster gave a simple chirp in response.

"No, baby. You've already had breakfast. What if I go check out that penguin I made a couple days ago? Do you think it'll be ready?"

"Meow."

"You are the smartest cat in the world, Monster."

"Mrow."

The penguin was indeed ready to be glazed, and Iris worked on it quickly while the rest of the house was quiet. It was a simple design, but a cute one. Cartoonish, the way she styled and glazed it, with slight bulging eyes and a large, curved beak. Different from her normal style, but she wanted to experiment a bit.

Iris heard the front door open through the open studio doors. Markus was home, yay. Some interaction with someone not her cat would be good on this totally regular day. While she loved Monster with her whole heart, he was not much for conversation.

"Morning!" She chirped as he set the paints down on the desk in front of the mirror. Monster ran to Markus, quickly chattering as he headbutted Markus' foot.

"Good morning." He replied curtly. Markus pulled his jacket off and hung it on a hook by itself, and Iris took note of the slight dirt and grime covering his form. Monster let out a soft meow, trotting away to god knows where as Iris frowned.

"What the hell happened to you?" She asked, concerned.

Markus shook his head simply. "Just a couple protestors in the square. Nothing to worry about, Iris."

Iris pressed her lips in a thin line. "Idiots." She took a step up to him and brushed at the dust that hung on his shoulders. "You weren't hurt or anything, though?"

"Not at all." Markus answered simply.

Iris rested her hands on his biceps, her eyes searching over the length of his shirt to make sure all the dirt was gone. Decent enough, she thought. Bits stuck to his collar, but she'd just toss the uniform in the wash later. Besides, Markus always wears that damn jacket. She didn't exactly mind that a bit more skin than usual was showing from her favorite android.

"Is Carl still asleep?" Markus asked, changing the subject. Iris pulled away from him and headed into the kitchen, her steps light and airy.

"What do you think?"

"He does love to sleep in."

She grabbed at a spare plate from a cupboard and filled it with some bacon and over-easy eggs for her father as she told him, "If you wanna go wake him up, I'll warm up a plate real quick."

"I'll be down in a moment, then." His eyes met hers briefly, and the smallest smile formed. "By the way, happy birthday, Iris."

The edges of her eyelids crinkled as she grinned back to him. "Thanks, Markus."

Iris listened to the gentle taps of his feet against the floor as he walked away from her, and she quickly set the plate into the microwave. Dad doesn't get cold food, but he won't get the best, either. It's his price to pay for sleeping in so late.

She moved gently around the kitchen to the living room, humming softly to herself. Her hands set the food onto Carls' spot on the table, and she poured out a cup of tea. Not his favorite (coffee would forever hold a special place in his heart,) but with his medication, it was the closest he could get to a decent caffeinated beverage.

The pair of gentle voices could be heard on the staircase as Iris took a seat in the spot for her dad. She lightly teased as her father's figure pulled through the doorway. "About time, Sleeping Beauty."

Carl was quick to snap back, "It takes time to look this good, little flower. Now, scoot. I'm starving."

"Fine." She stuck her tongue out but moved out of his way, hopping into the space beside him instead. Markus set the wheelchair in place and Iris perched on the side of it as she handed Carl a fork. "I made it just the way you like it."

"Wonderful. Thank you, my love."

Iris leaned down and pressed a kiss to her father's cheek. "Anytime, you pain in my butt."

Carl used the fork to cut off a bit of his eggs and nonchalantly added, "Y'know, you keep saying things like that, you'll never get your present."

She looked down to him teasingly. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten." Iris loved celebrating her birthday. While she wasn't a fan of seven course meals and Great Gatsby-like parties, she did enjoy a meal out with those she cared for. At lunch they had a reservation at her favorite hibachi restaurant in the city, and afterwards they'd be going to a gala for her father's work. Even though there were supposed to be buckets of water pouring from the sky later on, it's what Iris would consider a perfect day.

Carl smirked up to her. "Never. Happy birthday, little flower."

Iris blushed slightly at the attention, but said a quick thanks before sitting down on the chair beside him. "You seriously got me a present?"

"Well," Carl swallowed a bite of bacon before correcting. "I got you a little something for tonight. Markus, would you mind?"

"Of course not. Shall I grab the… other one as well?"

Iris eyed the android as her father answered with a yes. "What other one?"

Markus turned from her and walked to the studio, the door opening for him easily. No answer? Seriously? "What other one, Markus?!" And still he gave no response. Bastard. She turned to her father accusingly. "What did you do?"

He shrugged in his chair, his eyes twinkling teasingly before he shoveled more eggs into his mouth. "It wasn't me."

Iris' eyes widened, confusion overtaking her features as she gestured manically. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

When Markus returned, he held one box in each hand. One was small enough that it fit in his palm, covered in shiny, glittery wrapping paper. That one she deemed her fathers' doing; it was his normal present design. He loved giving her sparkly things, so Iris was thinking it was jewelry of some sort. The second one was a regular box, about twice the size of the other one, with a lid she'd have to pull off. She was mentally scratching her head with that one. No ideas as to what it could be.

Markus set the boxes on the table in front of her softly, sitting across from her on the other side. "I request that you open the shiny one first."

Iris' brow furrowed at the request, but her hands grabbed at the small one nonetheless. The wrapping paper was easily torn, and glitter flew all over the fricken table. God forbid Monster climb up the wood; he'd be shiny in a minute. But Iris was right, it was a small velvet box.

"Oooh, please tell me they're new earrings!" She looked over to Carl, wonder and hope in her chocolate brown orbs. She could always use a new pair of studs.

"Open it." Carl pointed to the box with his bacon, but the smirk on his face gave away all Iris needed.

"YES!" She yelped, and with vigor her fingers pried open the box. Inside was a pair of golden earrings, shaped like feathers that dangled just a tad, the small pieces flaying out as Iris rested one on the curve of her finger. They weren't too heavy; a perfect, small size. They were funky and amazing. "Oh, I love them! Thank you, dad!" Iris leaned to him and pressed another kiss to his cheek. "Now, onto box number two. The mystery."

Iris' fingers gently pried the top of the box and peered inside. "Oh, newspapers. How'd you know?"

"Keep looking." Markus said softly. Iris looked over to him questioningly—was he nervous? —but grabbed at the bundle and pulled it out. It was wrapped around something.

"… Oh?" Iris questioned. She pulled at the newspaper, ripping through layers as quickly as her curiosity was running. In the middle was… "Oh!"

A small sculpture, glazed and set nicely. A cat! Four paws were resting on one level as the feline sat, tall. Whiskers were drawn, small, barely visible in purple. A long tail curled around the paws. Bright blue eyes were painted on, like the sky on a summer morning. The best part, though, were the colors. The body was a soft yellow—the tail and ears were a couple shades darker, but not enough to be called orange. And on a front paw, just a small splotch of red.

Iris' eyes crinkled as she spun the small sculpture in her hands. "Is this… Is this supposed to be Monster?!"

Markus nodded, a soft smile escaping him. "Yes. And I followed your rules of color. Do you… Do you like it?"

"Like it? Markus, I love love love it!" She squealed. Then she realized, "Did you make this?"

Carl spoke for the android. "It's a small project we've been working on for a few weeks. Some of those trips we took alone were walks to another pottery shop so you wouldn't see it in the kiln. Markus wanted to make something special for you, for such an exciting occasion."

Iris was floored at such a thoughtful gesture from the android. Lord knew she wasn't expecting anything today, and she was almost speechless at the mini-Monster. Grinning sweetly to Markus, she stood from her seat. "C'mere, you get one, too."

With quick steps she whizzed around the table between them and bent down to press a quick, chaste kiss onto his cheek, just like she did with her father. Markus tried not to smile at the gesture, but the smallest upturn of his lip was not easily controlled. The last time he received a kiss on the cheek from her, his skin felt aflame. This time wasn't any different.

"So, you thought about this on your own?" Iris asked him, curious. Not that she minded, but androids weren't exactly supposed to think, so she was interested in the thought-process.

"Well," Markus began to explain, looking up to her from his seat. "I wanted to create something for you, but I didn't exactly have many ideas. Carl came up with a sculpture of Monster."

"I helped," Carl corrected. With ease he pushed his wheelchair around the table and whirled to the pair. "I gave him a couple ideas, but he chose one and worked on the sculpture on his own. I was just a guide."

Markus nodded, and Iris looked back to him. "Good choice. I love it." She turned the sculpture in her hand, eyes roaming over every little detail about it. He must have worked on this for hours upon hours. It was smooth to the touch, no nicks or bumps in sight. And the glaze job was great—those funky colors made her feel warm and home-y. He took her little lesson months ago to heart. Or, thirium pump, rather, she thought with an inward chuckle.

"He made a great choice." Carl agreed, and after a beat, added, "You know, Markus, one day I won't be here to take care of you anymore. You'll have to protect yourself. Make your own choices. Decide who you are, and what you wanna become. This world doesn't like those who are different. Don't let anyone tell you who you should be."

Wonderous, dad, Iris thought after a silent beat. Way to get philosophical at ten in the morning.

Still, it seemed that Markus took the life lesson with a yellow spin of his LED. Well, I've heard the, "Be different, be you," speech years ago. Might as well tell Markus. The thought crossed her mind that Markus probably never heard it before. Never heard the, "Only you can be you," narrative. No, that was reserved for humans, never androids. It was actually sweet that Carl was telling him, and Iris had to agree. So, with an inward shrug Iris dropped any sassy remark in her head and instead asked, "Let's get to the studio, shall we?"

"Of course. You're the boss today, little flower."

Markus took hold of her father's wheelchair and the pair headed over to the studio leisurely. Iris stayed behind, taking the dirty dishes her father made and cleaning them off in the kitchen sink. It may be her birthday, but she hated leaving a mess behind for Markus to clean up later. She had two hands that could easily rub crumbs of bacon off a plate; no need to leave it hanging.

Iris also put on the little feather earrings in, opting to take out a set of studs, and grabbed the mini-Monster statue. She didn't know where she would put it. Atop her dresser in her room? In the living room somewhere? Maybe on the desk in the first room of the mansion, so she could see it when she walks in after a long day.

Eh, Iris thought. I'll figure it out later. But for now, it comes with me.

When she moseyed into the studio her father was already set into his mechanical chair, painting away at the enormous blue canvas. It was just about done—a few mini touch-ups before it was ready to be in the consumer world. Markus strolled around the room, grasping at a couple splattered paint cans and cleaning them.

Iris took her spot at her messy clay table in the back of the studio and set the mini-Monster in the middle of an open newspaper. Talk about an adorable muse! It got her thinking; maybe that could be a new collection of hers. Cartoonish, funky little animals like the penguin or her ephelant. Well, not the ephelant; that was hers and Carls'. She'd have to make another elephant for the collection. But, maybe. It was an idea, at least.

Iris grabbed at an unopened package of clay, setting an animal in mind to create. Dolphin? Lion? Giraffe? The worst animal of all; human? She let her mind wander as the whizzing of her father's mechanical chair lowered him back onto the floor. "Oooh, is it done?"

Carl looked up to the canvas approvingly. "I think so, little flower."

She bounded to him, stopping right behind his wheelchair so she could rest a hand against the top of the chair while her eyes took in the gigantic design. Lots of dark blues, blacks, a dab of turquoise. A face emerging from the mix of colors. Dark and mysterious, Iris thought. "I'm intrigued. It's a damn good piece, dad."

Carl smirked up at the painting, satisfied with it. "Thank you. What's your verdict, Markus?"

Iris cocked her head, looking at the android while he responded. "Yes, there is something about it. Something I can't… quite… define." She quirked an eyebrow up as he concluded, "I guess I like it."

Huh, she thought. He finally admits to, "liking," something. Who knew?

"Truth is, I have nothing left to say anymore." Carl said. Iris looked down to him, frowning. "Each day brings me closer to the end… I'm just an old man clinging to his brushes and children."

"Dad," Iris hissed disapprovingly. She hated when he spoke like this. Like life was just a tunnel and one day he would reach the end. While he wasn't wrong, Iris didn't want to talk, look, or even think of crossing that bridge until it was necessary. She preferred thinking about the journey of life, not the end. Her hand went to his shoulder, gripping it tightly. "As elected Boss for the Day, I'm vetoing all macabre speak. Understood?"

Carl's hand found its way to hers, covering her small one and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Enough about me, then." With ease he dropped his hand from hers and spun his wheelchair around to face Markus. "Let's see if you have any talent!"

The thought entered Iris' mind briefly, and she furrowed her brows almost in sync as Markus' LED spun in yellow. No, she thought; androids shouldn't have any talent. Not in the way we do. But then again, Markus wasn't like any other android Iris had met. He liked art. Maybe he could?

"Give it a try." Carl coaxed him. He folded his hands in his lap delicately, a wise smile gracing his features. "Try painting something."

While Iris was intrigued by the command, Markus was taken aback. He stammered out, "Paint? But, what—what would I—?!"

"Anything!" Carl said, and pointed over to an easel already equipped with a regular-sized blank canvas. "Give it a try."

Iris chuckled softly as Markus stared at the empty canvas, horror filling his emerald eyes like it was the devil incarnate. "It's not gonna bite, Markus. C'mon, for the birthday girl?"

Markus stared hard at her as she held out her father's paint palette to him, her eyebrow cocked teasingly back. "Please?" Iris added sweetly. He grabbed the palette from her fingers, jaw tense as he turned back to the empty canvas. His eyes stared at the open landscape, the LED flickering widely in yellow.

Markus was silent when he finally put paintbrush to canvas. The Manfred's watched eagerly as colors molded in the brushstrokes, and Iris was glad that there was a lot. Reds, blues, yellows, and tans creating a small scene. Dozens of paintbrushes inside little paint-splattered cans. Then a desk formed, as did billowing sheets off the top, stuck in place with the paint cans.

Oh, Iris realized. It's the paint desk right beside us. Clever, in a way. Lots of colors to show off his skill, but Iris was a tad disappointed. There was no imagination behind the craft; no emotion. She would argue until she was blue in the face that that is what made artistry come to life. But then again, Markus was an android. Like she thought earlier, androids probably couldn't posses the talent that she and Carl had; they couldn't put the feeling behind the brushstrokes. She was almost—no, she was sad. Markus would probably never feel the same way she did when completing a project.

The android in question took a step back from the newly filled canvas, finished and looking back to Carl for the verdict.

"That is a perfect copy, of reality." The older Manfred nodded to the work. By no means was it bad, but Iris agreed fully—anyone could make a defined copy of reality. What made her job fun was toying with reality. "But painting and sculpting is not about replicating the world. It's about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see."

"Carl, I don't…" Markus said. He stared at the painting he created intently, searching through the mess of colors. "I don't think I can do that. It's not in my program." He shrugged his shoulders, but his gaze on the work hardened. Iris knew that face; that's the, "I don't understand because I'm not human but I want to," face.

Her father was having none of the android's excuses. "Go on, try again! Grab that empty canvas, start over."

Markus, still perplexed by such antics, complied and set up a new canvas on the opened easel.

"Remember what I told you all those months ago?" Iris asked him. Markus looked over to her curiously, eyes glued as she said, "It doesn't need to be realistic. What dad and I do—what we make, we feel. Happiness, curiosity, grief, wonder? All those emotions felt through the craft. Try and channel that."

Carl nodded to Iris approvingly, and gestured for Markus to pick up the paintbrush again.

Once it was situated and Markus was ready, Carl instructed, "Do something for me. Close your eyes." Markus stared at him, confused. "Close 'em. Trust me." After a beat the android did as instructed, albeit puzzled by the command. "Try to imagine something that doesn't exist. Something you've never seen. Now concentrate… on how it makes you feel."

The LED on Markus' head began to glow softly in yellow. It didn't blink like it normally would, like he was processing something out-of-the-blue. It was a simple, soft glow. Calm.

"Let your hand drift across the canvas." Carl directed softly.

And Markus did. Eyes still closed, he dabbed the paintbrush in a swatch of blue and gently began swirling it around the bottom of the canvas; large brushstrokes covering a wide expanse of the white underneath. The LED began flashing rapidly, and vaguely Iris wondered what it meant. Was he nervous? Did he have a design in mind now? Was he just taking in the suggestion?

Iris brought her eyes back to the work, and was surprised to see the beginnings of an outline through the colors. What was that? She thought. A face? A tree? She and Carl watched each stroke of paint intently, the mix of blues, oranges, whites and grays blending together wonderfully. The outline became more defined through the orange at the very top of the canvas—a face. His face. Frowning through the colors, the orange almost blasting out of his eyes like it was drowning everything he saw.

And Iris' heart swelled. This is what she was looking for. This is what she didn't think Markus could do. She thought he couldn't make a piece with emotion behind it; with struggle and wonder and fascination all wrapped up in one. Because, "Androids couldn't think. They weren't human. They weren't special." Iris was glad to be proven wrong.

She'd been doing that a lot with Markus lately. She needed to stop doubting him. Android or not, Markus was an enigma of his own that she was going to crack.

Markus set the palette and brush on the desk beside the trio, signaling his finish. The LED was back to blue, calm as ever, but still he stared hard at his work. It was almost like he couldn't believe he was the one that created it. He was just as surprised as Iris and Carl.

"Wow." Iris hummed lowly, staring at the painting. She focused on what it made her feel. Sadness? The eyes cast out that orange, the soft undertones and angry flames twisting together. Resentment? Pain. "You've been holding out on us, Markus."

"Oh my god." Carl gasped. Iris nodded at the exclamation. The android proved her father's theory more than they were expecting.

A soft whir sounded behind the group, and Iris' breath caught in her throat when a person stepped through the opening doors of the studio.

Shaggy brown hair covered by a beanie, still poofing out around the edges. Soft brown eyes, just like Iris', though his were a tad more bloodshot and there were dark bags underneath. A gentle shadow on his jawline. Blue jacket. T-shirt. Brown pants.

Leo.

"Hey, dad." He said. His voice was huskier than when she last heard him. "Hey, 'Ree."

"Leo." Carl said, surprised. Iris was glad he spoke. She couldn't.

The trio weren't expecting a visit from him. They weren't expecting anything from Leo, period, considering he'd gone AWOL for over a whole goddamn year. Iris had been worried sick this whole fucking time and he decided to show up on her doorstep on her birthday.

Oh, if she could move, she would sock him right there.

"I didn't hear you come in." Carl noted.

"Ah," Leo shrugged it off with an all-too-forced smile at their father. "I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by."

"Oh, did you?" Iris' eyes stared hard at him, her brow furrowing harshly.

"Yeah," Leo nodded (would that jerk to the side count as a nod?) to her. "It's-it's been awhile, right?"

She wished she could be happier at the unexpected visit. If they were a normal family, having a brother show up at the doorstep would be cause for long-awaited hugs and impromptu meals, telling stories jovially while the sun hung low in the sky after the time passed by.

But no, the Manfred's weren't normal. They were held together by a single thread, the edges of the quilt fraying and falling from the inner turmoil of the family tree.

"Ages." Was all Iris could muster.

"You all right?" Carl asked his son, twisting the wheels of his chair so he could properly face Leo. It wasn't hard to spot. The shifty, bloodshot eyes; the jerky movements. Even the soft, barely-there stutter behind his words. "You don't look so good."

You look like you've been passed out behind a dumpster for twelve hours, Iris mentally corrected.

She. Fucking. Knew it.

Leo waved off the concern. "Oh, yeah yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He brought a shaky hand to the beanie on his head, readjusting it as he added, "Hey, listen, uh… I need some cash, guys."

It took all of Iris' willpower not to grab the used paintbrush beside Markus and throw it directly into Leo's fucking bloodshot eyes.

How could he do this to them again? How could he continue down this fucking path, like he didn't have people who loved him, people who cared about him?!

How could Leo do this to her?

Doesn't he know how much it breaks her heart to watch him hurt, to watch him stutter and jerk and break down like this?

Iris missed her brother. Dearly. She missed his actual smile. She missed goofing off with him; missed those days in summer where they'd run off into Detroit and spend a day in the park, people-watching. She missed school nights where they would stay up far too late and read comics under the covers. Iris missed Leo—not his addiction.

"Again?" Carl asked innocently. "What happened to the money in your account?"

Leo let out a squeaky laugh, sputtering out, "Uh, well-well, it just goes, y'know?"

"Oh, does it?" Iris challenged. Her stomach sank, but she knew he was using. She could see it in… well, his everything. Her hands shook by her sides, fingers curling tightly into fists unknowingly in order to keep herself from yelling. She hated seeing Leo like this. It brought the worst out in him and the worst out of Iris. Carl was a broken mediator between the two; even he couldn't stop the unbridled anger that flowed through Iris during one of their many interventions for Leo.

"'Ree…" Leo started. "C'mon, I jus-just need a couple bucks."

Carl shook his head, his eyes closing in defeat. "Yeah, you're on it again, aren't you?"

"No! Oh, no, I swear, it's not that."

"Bull-fucking-shit." Iris spat. He promised. Leo Manfred promised to her a year ago he'd stay clean. Why did he always break his fucking promise? She tried her best to choke back the tears threatening to escape. Tears did nothing for an argument with her brother except leave her lightheaded with dried wet trails down her cheeks.

"What difference does it make?!" Iris jumped at the sharp outburst from Leo; the quick, exasperated hiss struck her like a brick. "I just need some cash, that's all!"

Iris could feel the gentle touch of a hand at her forearm, warm and comforting as she shook violently in place. Her eyes flicked over to Markus beside her, catching his green orbs staring at her shaking form softly. She could only imagine hers brimming with rage as her gaze snapped back to Leo.

Markus' calm touch provided her some comfort in the moment—a quick second for her to breathe. Funny, she thought, I taught him this trick. Her mind went back to their first bake sale together, where the older woman wouldn't let some filth like Markus sell her a goddamn cookie. That day, Iris gently rested a hand against his forearm behind the table—where the lady couldn't see, of course—in solidarity. A quiet, "I have your back," if things went sideways. And now it was Markus' turn to have hers.

Unfortunately for the pair, Leo took note of the close proximity between the two; the soft rest of Markus' hand against his sister's arm, and that only added more fuel to why he fucking hated androids. Sure, they were everywhere. They took jobs from lower-income people like him. One could say the upgraded tin cans were the downfall of the U.S. economy. Now, here they are, in his goddamn family, next to his sister, so fucking perfect in a way Leo could never be.

"Sorry," Carl said flatly. Though he didn't sound as affected as Iris was, she knew his heart must have been breaking. "The answer's no."

"What? Why?"

What? Not the answer you were expecting? "Here, Leo, I'll give you money that I know will directly enter your bloodstream in a matter of hours. Have fun, honey."

"You know why." Iris was almost proud—her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

Leo's gaze snapped back to her, and this time he held back no anger. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do know why." He swaggered over to Iris and Markus, steps heavy as his feet hit the ground. Him being so close—half an arm's length away—meant she could see the seething anger in his eyes, could feel the hatred radiating off him in waves. They hadn't been that close in years. He must be royally pissed off.

"You'd rather take care of your little princess and plastic prick than your son, right? Rather," Leo stuttered as he glared down to Iris. She forced her eyes upward, every bit of his loathing striking chords in her. "Rather dote on your little doll while she plays with her toy?"

Iris could feel bile rising in her throat, could feel herself choking on her words before they even came out. "That is not fair-" And it's not true. I am not a princess. And then she wondered just where all this fury was coming from. Sure, the Red Ice made Leo loads angrier, but where did the, "princess," comment come from? Was it just the drugs, or… did he really think that?

She didn't have a chance to get the rest out before Markus dropped his hand off her, taking a gracious step forward to put distance between her and her brother. His voice was calm as he stated, "You're making my companions upset. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Leo actually laughed at the request, like it was the most ridiculous thing. He didn't have to be an android to understand he was pissing off his family. Didn't mean he was going to leave. "Tell me, dad, what's it got that I don't?"

It. Leo loved making the distinction.

"It's smarter? More obedient? Not like me, right? No, more like Iris. More perfect." Leo jabbed a finger onto Markus' chest accusingly. "But you know what? This thing is not your son. It's a fucking MACHINE!" The single jab became a full-force shove at Markus; Leo pushed him with enough muscle that Markus' body barreled backwards, almost hitting the wet canvas behind him.

"Leo!" Iris shouted, pushing herself in between the pair and shoving harshly at Leo's shoulders. "Knock it off!"

"That's enough!" Carl yelled. Leo turned back to their father, chest rising in quick, heated breaths, and Carl repeated. "Enough."

Leo stared hard at his father, disappointment and anger seething through every fiber of his being. Iris remembered this tactic of his well. He didn't get what he wanted, so he throws a fit like a child.

"You only care about your daughter and your goddamn paintings." Leo didn't stutter once. "You never loved me." He took soft, deliberate steps to the door, the mechanism whirring open as he pulled through. "You never loved me." It was so soft, a quiet whisper, that Iris almost didn't register it.

The door closed behind him, and Iris' brain buzzed to life, everything Leo said registering at once. Cash, princess, plastic, never loved me. And she couldn't let him leave. Not when that's the last thing she and Carl hear from Leo for who knows how long.

She ran through the studio door as fast as the mechanics could open, her feet pounding against the wood floors as she ran through the living room and into the walkway of the mansion. He was a few paces away from the front door, disappointment radiating like a damn forcefield. Still, Iris called out, "That's a goddamn lie."

She could see the freeze in his steps and the deep sigh he took when he heard her, as if Iris chasing after him added another layer of frustration. "What?"

"Dad," Iris stopped beside the desk as she let out breathy pants. "You know that's a fucking lie. He loves you more than anything in the world."

"He has a funny way of showing it."

Iris restrained herself from marching up to him and smacking his goddamn face. The words flied out of her mouth before she could stop herself, "Because he wants you to get better he doesn't love you?! I think it means he loves you so much. And I feel the same exact way, you idiot. I love you so much and you keep fucking doing this to yourself!"

The words kept barreling through her, filter thrown to the wind because, fuck, it's Leo, and if he goes AWOL again, she didn't know if she'd ever get the chance to say it. "And I-I'm not perfect, asshole! I'm just as fucked up as the next person. I'm not a goddamn princess. Why would you say that? Why would you think that?" Her eyes glistened, the mix of anger and grief threatening to spill tears. "Do you hate me that much?"

Leo's jaw clenched as looked at his sister, his height easily allowing him to tower over her form. He sounded clearer now than he did in the studio. "I don't hate you, 'Ree. But I fucking envy you. You had the perfect childhood, the perfect father, and I got the scraps."

"I had a dead mother and a father who resented me." Her life wasn't handed to her on a silver platter, and god forbid if anyone thought that. "We worked to get where we are now."

Leo gave a tight-lipped smile, and Iris could see her words going in one ear and out the other. When he's like this, nothing would stick in that goddamn brain.

"What do you want me to say, Iris?"

Two words. "You. Promised."

Leo let out a cackle of indignation. "Yeah, I, uh-I promise a lot of things, 'Ree."

He took two steps to the door, his hand grabbing at the doorknob and opening it with a jerky twist of his wrist. The cool rush of air hit Iris' face. Please don't go. Please, Leo, let's talk about this like actual fucking adults. Please don't run away again. Of course, he walked straight through without looking back to her. It was more painful than Iris thought it would be—like the gesture was a slap to the face. The sound of the door slamming registered before his last comment did.

"Happy birthday."