"When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part"

JOHN MAYER - 'Dreaming with A Broken Heart'

.              .            .

Thea had painted Cali's nails a horrible coral green colour, and done her eye shadow to match.

"I literally look like Ariel on crack," Cali said with a scowl. "I thought you were good at colour matching?"

Thea tilted her head and frowned pensively, brushing a finger over her bottom lip. "It does look rather bad," she agreed thoughtfully. "Damn. I thought I'd made the right call. Guess we'll have to try again."

Cali sighed as Thea dug around her makeup table for makeup wipes and nail polish remover. "We know the darker colours go well with my skin tone," she said. "You're distracted."

Thea didn't look at her. "Am not."

"Are too. What's up?"

Thea rubbed a makeup wipe over Cali's cheek a little too roughly. "Nothing."

Okay, see, Cali knew that was a load of bullshit, but she also knew that Thea had a habit of not talking about things that were bothering her. It wasn't the best habit to have, but Cali couldn't exactly call her out on it without being a hypocrite. God knew that everybody in the Queen family and Merlyn family all had some kind of trust issues.

Usually, she'd push Thea a little, just enough to get the Queen girl to open up about what was bothering her. Thea would crack, the truth would come out, and Cali would help her work through it.

Today, though, Cali just couldn't be bothered to push. Thea would break or she wouldn't. Cali couldn't find it in herself to care.

"It's only my dad," she said dully as Thea wiped off the horrid polish. "We really don't have to try this hard."

Thea's scrubbing got a little harsher, the polish smearing a little bit more than it needed to. "Family is fucked," she agreed, "but I want you to look pretty and feel pretty, okay? Just let me get this fucking nail polish off and I can try again."

Cali's frown deepened as Thea's attempts to remove the nail polish got even more shaky. "Hey," Cali said softly, reaching with her other hand to grip Thea's wrist gently. "Hey, Critter, talk to me. What's wrong?"

Thea sniffled. "I can't get the stupid polish off."

"It's only nail polish, honey, you don't need-"

"I should be able to fix it!" Thea shouted, rocking back and away from Cali, who was forced to let go of the girl's wrist. "It's just polish!"

Sign number infinity that something was wrong. Cali gently reached over and plucked the cotton pad out of Thea's trembling hands and set it aside. "This is about so much more than nail polish," she murmured, and Thea's little hiccups turned into tiny sobs. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," Thea croaked miserably. "It's never going to be okay again."

And then her tiny sobs turned into proper cries.

Seeing Thea cry was a surreal experience that Cali was never going to get used to. It hadn't happened very often over the last few years. There'd been a few times, when both girls had felt Oliver's absence a little too keenly, and when Michael had said too much and done too little.

Seeing Thea cry and not knowing why was going to strip away whatever splinter of spirit Cali had left.

Gently, she pulled the younger girl back towards her, cooing and shushing as Thea dove in for a hug. "Hey," Cali whispered. "I got you." It wasn't much to offer, but she didn't have anything else. She was too broken herself, too run down and tired to give anymore of herself to this ghost of a family. The Queens would kill her eventually - would smother her and take from her until there was nothing left of her to take.

A horrible, twisted, wounded part of her wondered if this was how Tommy felt. If their relationship, their family, was equally as toxic and co-dependant and needy.

(It was. )

Cali held Thea a little tighter.

"He's going to go away again," Thea sobbed into Cali's neck. She sounded so heart-breakingly young that for a moment, Cali was terrified that they'd somehow gone back in time and were talking about Oliver getting on the Gambit.

But no. Time had dragged them past that. They were here, and now, and Thea was just a young girl whose brother had no regard for the precious balance between life and death, love and hate, staying and going.

Cali ran her fingers through Thea's tangled hair, smoothing away some of the knots. "Oliver is complicated," she said quietly, "but he loves you, Thea. He won't do anything that might take him away from you."

Oh, but he would. He was. He did.

Thea sniffled. "They're going to send him to jail."

"No." Cali smiled bitterly. "Have faith in your brother. I'm sure he has a plan for proving his innocence. Detective Lance won't take him away from you again."

Oh how disgusting she felt, covering for a guilty man. She wanted to go and find Oliver right now and force him to take a look at the distraught mess he'd made his sister into. Because Thea didn't deserve it, and Cali didn't deserve it, and she wasn't sure John deserved it either. Moira and Walter certainly didn't deserve it.

Oliver was hurting so many people by refusing to relinquish his grip on his trauma and his stoic beliefs. Usually, Cali would commend him for it. Now, she just wanted him to bear witness to the heartache he was causing everybody he was trying to protect.

Thea drew back, out of the hug, and scrubbed at her face. "Okay," she exhaled. "Let's get you ready for dinner with your dad."

Cali's angry smile softened into something fonder. "You've smeared nail polish on your cheek."

Thea cursed and rubbed a palm along her cheekbone - effectively, she only spread more of the polish everywhere, until her cheek was a messy patchwork of coral green. "Gone?"

Cali shook her head. "Coral green really isn't your colour either."

Thea's response was to smack Cali's leg, There was a green hand print left of the skin. Thea laughed as Cali scowled. "Alright," Thea said, grabbing a makeup wipe and using it to clean the nail polish of her face and Cali's leg. "Let's try purple."

.            .             .

Malcolm Merlyn was a man of many, many masks.

He wore most of them with pride, satisfied with his cunning. Others he wore reluctantly, the skin of his face sticking to the tar-like lies as his smiles turned into weapons, his teeth bared at the world like he was some kind of wild animal, ready to slaughter everyone.

Malcolm Merlyn was a man, but sometimes he was a monster too.

Tonight, he was merely a man. His words weren't sharpened, and his actions weren't attacks. He was going to lock away those dangerous impulses and he was going to put on the rarest mask of all.

Tonight, he was going to be a father, and he was going to tell his children the truth.

Not about the Undertaking - he'd have to be a fool to reveal that so soon - but he couldn't keep hiding what was on that USB. Cali deserved to know, and Malcolm couldn't keep hiding it from her. Especially with the serum waking up. If Cali wasn't aware of what was building inside her, she'd turn into a bomb, and then Malcolm wouldn't need the Undertaking to level Starling City. Cali would do it for him.

Malcolm would tell her the truth, and he would do it as her father.

If that wasn't enough, then he could give up trying.

It was almost a relief.

Malcolm shook himself. Regardless. Tonight was the night where everything changed. He didn't try to make predictions, or map a plan of assumed and expected outcomes. His children always had a habit of surprising him with their actions and reactions, and so it was redundant.

He dressed slowly, making careful choices with his clothes in an attempt to coax his fatherly side to the surface. No need to look like Malcolm Merlyn, CEO. He just had to look like Dad. So he dressed in one of his more basic suits and didn't wear his new shoes he'd bought last week. He wore the Hello Kitty watch that Cali had given him the year before Rebecca had died. He chose the one purple tie that he owned.

"Lyle!" He called out, straightening his outfit one last time before turning away from the mirror. His weathered butler, present as ever, bowed at the doorway. "Make sure the car is ready. I just need to grab a file, and then I'll be departing."

Lyle's murmured, "Of course, sir," disappeared into the air as Malcolm hurried into his adjoined study room.

He'd prepared a folder for tonight in anticipation. A file with all the records, even the ones that hadn't been on the system when the Hood had broken in and copied it. Folders with his handwritten notes, with thoughts from their doctor, with Rebecca's own observations.

Documents that detailed the process he'd followed to craft the perfect formula.

Malcolm hesitated before picking it up, feeling the weight and heft of it drag his shoulders down slightly. He was tired of hiding things, especially when it concerned the safety of his daughter, but he'd lost faith in his experimental, temporary, antidote. He didn't want to inject Cali with something that might kill her.

He found that he didn't want to make Moira do it either.

So. He had to follow through now. He had to tell Cali, and he had to offer her the suppressant, and she had to choose.

He didn't know what he'd do if she refused it.

Swallowing his regrets, Malcolm exited the study and hurried downstairs, where Lyle was waiting with his coat. "The surveillance you ordered on Mr Queen is in place," Lyle said mildly as he helped Malcolm into his coat. "Additional monitoring has been implemented at Miss Merlyn's residence as well."

Malcolm's lips pinched. "And my son?"

"Thomas's driver has been instructed to keep an eye on him, as requested." Lyle paused. "I have some...misgivings about such an endeavour. Benjamin seems fond of the boy."

Crap. Not what Malcolm needed right now. What happened to money bought loyalty? Malcolm was the one paying these drivers, and yet his children were the ones who had their trust. Malcolm didn't understand it. This wasn't how business transactions were supposed to go.

"Everyone is fond of Tommy," he muttered to Lyle, who only hummed. "That's the problem."

"Well," Lyle said as he gently usher Malcolm out the door and down to the car. "Forgive an old man his worries, then."

Malcolm said nothing back, simply got in the car and closed the door, pretending that he didn't see the misery that was etched into every crevice of his butler's face. He didn't want to acknowledge what that meant - that he was losing control over everything he'd bought for himself. Even his own staff were against him, siding with his children.

Malcolm didn't want to know that he was the one who was the villain in this story.

He didn't want to know, so he didn't look and he didn't see and he never thought about it again.

They drove away with Lyle still standing in the driveway, a haunted ghost trapped in a withered body.

.             .             .

Tommy knocked on Thea's bedroom door, pushing it open without waiting. There hadn't been much movement or noise for a while, and he really hoped Cali hadn't fallen asleep. They had to leave for their dinner with Malcolm, or they'd be late.

Malcolm hated it when they were late.

"Hey bub!" He called as he entered the room. "You here?" A swift check around the room revealed no trace of either girl, save for a bottle of coral green nail polish abandoned on the bedside table.

There was a small clatter from the bathroom. "Just a sec, Tommy!" Thea called back.

" 'Kay."

Tommy settled onto the bed, pulling out his phone and tapping out a text to Oliver. 'Girls are boring.'

Oliver texted back swiftly. 'Aren't you still in the house?'

'Yeah, and?'

'Why are you texting me?'

'Because this place is huge and I don't want to shout.'

'Alright, that's fair. Wish Cali luck for me.'

Tommy glanced towards the bathroom, the door closed and his sister hidden from view. 'Nah,' he texted back. 'I'll text you when we're coming down and you can tell her yourself.'

Oliver didn't respond, which Tommy took to mean okay. "Oi!" He shouted at the closed bathroom door. "We're going to be late!"

"Calm your tits, Tommy!" Thea yelled back. "We're just getting her lipstick done and then we'll be out!"

Tommy grumbled to himself but obediently quieted down and started spamming Laurel with complaints. His phone pinged with her response just as the bathroom door creaked open and Thea emerged.

"Finally," Tommy said without any real heat.

Thea rolled her eyes. "Alright, grizzly guts. You ready to see her?"

Tommy nodded, interest piqued despite himself. It wasn't often that Cali dressed up properly anymore, but King's Street was the epitome of rich and entitled, glitz and glam. Showing up without dressing up was essentially a crime.

Cali appeared in the doorway with a rustle of skirts, and Tommy's throat tightened. "Oh," he managed faintly.

Thea beamed. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"

She looked like their mother.

Cali's hair was swept into a glittering twist of an updo, held in place by a stunning silver and purple and hairpin. Thea had kept the makeup to a minimum, only using it to smooth over Cali's face and give her eyes some enhancement. The dress itself was a work of art, a tight bodice that was swathed with glittering purple lace, trimmed with the thinnest threads of silver. There was a thin silver belt at her waist, and then the rest of the dress fell in long pleats. Dainty purple gloves covered Cali's arms.

She looked like a princess.

She looked like their mom.

"I still think you went a bit overboard," Cali said, scowling slightly.

Thea swatted her. "You're going to King's Street. Besides, it's about damn time you dressed up again. I've been waiting for too long."

The light in Cali's eyes guttered. Her smile stiffened until it seemed more cardboard than smile. "I haven't had much to dress up for," she said tightly.

Thea, realising her mistake, didn't respond.

Tommy pushed himself off the bed, moving close enough to very gently cup Cali's face, so as not to ruin her makeup. "You look gorgeous," he said hoarsely. "You look-You look like Mom."

Cali blinked at him, face tight with pain. "Thank you," she whispered, and then shook herself. Tommy let his hands drop to his sides. "Well, we better get going. You know Malcolm hates it when we're late to dinner."

"Oliver wants to see you before you go," Tommy said. Cali's shoulders tensed, so he hastily added, "Just to wish you luck, you know? He's very much aware of how horrible Malcolm is, so he just wants to, you know, say good luck and whatnot."

"Tommy?" Thea said sweetly. "Stop talking."

Tommy nodded. "Right."

Cali's laugh sounded choked, like it had gotten caught in her throat. Tommy winced right alongside her. How awkward they both were together, when faced with the role of rich boy and rich girl. How easily the joy of dressing up was stripped away, destroyed, simply because it was expected of them and not a choice.

How Oliver thrived in these situations without having to fake it, Tommy would never know. Because he tried, and for a few years, it had worked. Oliver and he would roam the rich people scene, milling around in their suits and combed hair. And then the Gambit had gone down, and everything had seemed hollow, and Tommy had lost that grip on who he was supposed to be.

"I should text Janet," Cali said, voice still shaky. "See if I can't get a kiss for all the effort."

Tommy's answering smile was just as strained.

It wasn't supposed to be this hard.

Thea clapped her hands, breaking the strange tension that had built around them. "Well, " she said loudly. "I think it's time you guys get moving. Especially if my brother wants to see you off."

Cali's blinks were hurried and confused, as though she'd forgotten that they actually had a dinner reservation to make. "Right."

"Right," Tommy echoed, and offered his sister an arm. "Shall we, then, my lady?"

Cali grabbed on almost desperately, her nails - which were a delightful indigo colour - digging into the fabric of his sleeve. Thea trailed them silently as Tommy swept his sister out into the hallway and down the stairs, both of them keeping their wounded words locked tightly away behind their tongues. They didn't need to inflict any more heartbreak on each other tonight.

Malcolm would be able to do that for them.

"Oh wow," Oliver breathed, emerging from the shadows at the bottoms of the stairs like a damn ninja. Tommy tensed slightly. Cali's grip on his arm got impossibly tighter. "You look amazing."

"I know," Thea said for them, brushing past and standing beside her brother. "Purple is definitely Cali's colour."

Oliver nudged her slightly. "I was obviously talking about Tommy."

Thea raised her hands in surrender. "Don't mind me, then. Let the bromance continue."

And for a moment, just that split second right there before Oliver took a breath, Tommy was between two worlds.

Through one eye, he could see his Oliver, the boy he'd been before the Gambit had gone down. Eyes sparkling with mirth, hair tinged gold under the light, lips upturned in a bright smile. With Thea by his side, Oliver could just possibly manage to be the perfect picture of who he was supposed to be. Even his voice was different - lighter and happier and hopelessly awash with a certain kind of love for his friends, a certain kind of love for Cali.

But Tommy could also see just how many shadows Oliver was carrying, just how many skeletons were spilling out of his closet. And his hair was bleached white like bone, and his teeth were broken and jagged, and his eyes were the sunken pits one would expect to find only around the dead. The love that was once so pure was wreathing around his tongue, poisoned and angry and dangerous and bitter.

Oliver breathed in.

Tommy settled somewhere in the middle.

Because that love was still there, and it was still fighting. It was sour and stretched thin, but it was full of hope, of healing. And it was for Cali. It was for Tommy. It was for Thea. Three different kinds of love, but love nonetheless.

"Has Janet ever seen you dress up like this?" Oliver asked Cali, and Tommy watched that love gutter and wither just a little bit more. Cali shook her head mutely. "No? Shame. You might just be able to secure a marriage proposal looking like that."

The wrong thing to say. Tommy winced as Cali retracted her claws from his arm and settled them on her hips instead. "You saying I've got to dress up and look good for someone to want to marry me?" She demanded. Oliver's eyes widened almost comically. "Mr Queen, I expected so much more of you."

"I didn't mean to offend, my lady," Oliver said, lips twitching. "Allow me to offer my apologies and perhaps a twirl to soothe any upset I may have caused."

Cali tried to remain strong; Tommy saw her mouth quivering, fighting a smile. Eventually, she broke and her angry look vanished. "Oh alright," she said, holding onto Oliver's outstretched hand and allowing him to guide her into a twirl. "If you say so."

Her skirt flared as Oliver spun her around more than once, her heels allowing her to be exactly at his eye height. Tommy watched them quietly, just taking it in. Because Cali looked almost happy as she and Oliver danced to their own music. She looked comfortable and at ease, and Oliver looked more like himself than he ever had since they'd found him.

In that moment, Tommy knew he'd lost two of the most important women in his life to the one man who hadn't really wanted them but who'd grown to love them anyway.

So he allowed them their dance; when Thea managed to catch his eye, he could only offer her a miserable smile and a silent prayer that one day someone would look at him like Cali was looking at Oliver.

.                .               .

King's Street was not a place for overzealous humour, which is why Cali's wild laugh petered off to a polite giggle as she and Tommy exited the car. Parker waited until they were inside the restaurant before driving off and Tommy was casually reminded how much the people around Cali cared for her.

Maybe it was her special power.

"Tommy and Cali Merlyn," the hostess greeted pleasantly. "Your father is already here. If you would both follow me."

Just like that, the calm and relaxed atmosphere was forced away as Tommy and Cali obediently followed the hostess to a table in the far corner, tucked in the shadows. Malcolm was indeed already waiting for them, seemingly dressed down for once. Tommy's nose wrinkled at the worn suit his father was wearing, the edges soft from use and love.

Malcolm had chosen King's Street, and then he'd chosen not to fit in.

With a polite expression of thanks to the waitress, Tommy and Cali carefully sat side by side in the booth, facing their father who had never really been a father with dual looks of disinterest. Neither of them were comfortable being here - the only upside was the food.

"Cali," Malcolm greeted warmly once they'd settled. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Thanks," Cali said flatly. "You look tired."

Tommy inhaled quickly, but Malcolm didn't dignify Cali's remark with a response. Instead, his eyes shifted over to Tommy, who fought the urge to squirm in his seat like he was eight years old agan. "Tommy," he said, "my boy. You clean up well."

Tommy wasn't stung by that. He wasn't. It was a compliment. But it was said like that, with the same tone Malcolm had used to accuse him of neglect that day after Michael had landed Cali and Thea in hospital.

(Everyone cared so very much about his sister, but Tommy was easier to lose. Was easier to miss, even if he was right there in front of them.)

"Cut the crap," Cali interrupted, leaning forward. One of her hands squeezed Tommy's knee comfortingly. "You didn't call us here for a social check up, so what do you want?"

"Can I simply not miss my children?" Malcolm asked, faux hurt. Cali's lips peeled into a nasty sneer. Clearly, she hadn't forgiven the last incident. Malcolm, evidently, reached the same conclusion as his son, because he sighed and rapped his knuckles on the file neither Tommy nor Cal had noticed until now. "I'm here to tell you the truth."

"About the bruises?" Tommy asked. "Or what made the bruises go away?"

Malcolm didn't dignify them with an answer, which was really an answer in and of itself. "Both of you need to understand one thing: I did what I did because I love you.. None of this was ever supposed to be because I was evil. I was saving Cali's life."

"Saving my life?" Cali echoed. "How do you mean?"

With a sigh, Malcolm slid the file over to her. Cali didn't touch it. "You were born with weak lungs," Malcolm began thinly. "It was difficult to keep you breathing during the nights, your immune system was in shambles, and the slightest cough had the power to kill you. The doctors told us, when you were born, that you probably weren't going to make it very far in life."

Cali raised an unimpressed eyebrow and looked down at the file. "Well, here I am," she said blandly. "So they were clearly wrong."

Malcolm shook his head. "No. No, they were right."

"I think I remember this," Tommy interjected thoughtfully, sensing his sister's disinterest in the documents and dragging the folder towards himself. "She got sick, didn't she? Really sick?"

Malcolm shifted "Yes. You contracted some kind of respiratory infection, Calissa, and you were dying. Your lungs couldn't handle the strain. You were coughing up blood. Rebecca was convinced we were going to lose you, and it broke her heart. So I contacted a doctor, of a kind. We worked together to make an antidote - something that would heal your lungs and keep you in good health for the rest of your life. Eventually, I let your mother join the project, to grant her peace of mind."

Tommy opened the file.

The first thing he really comprehend was his mother's handwriting. It was elegant and sloping, as it always had been, the ballpoint pen ink smoothly etched into the white lined paper. Her notes were the only ones completely handwritten. Most of the other documents were typed. Most likely transcripts, then.

"The serum was only supposed to be a one time thing," Malcolm continued, a little quieter now that his sins were on display. "But you reacted badly to it. You seized, and we almost lost you then and there. So we had to use another prototype serum to counteract everything. And it worked."

"It worked," Cali repeated flatly. "So why are you telling me if it worked?"

Tommy swore colourfully as he scanned through the documents about the prototype serum. "You injected her with this?" He snapped, blinking down at the paper. "Without testing it properly first?"

Malcolm raised his hands in an aborted surrender. "Tommy, listen-"

"You knew what this shit could do to her and you gave it to her anyway!"

"She was dying!"

"Better death than living the rest of her life as some freak!"

Tommy's mouth tasted like ash.

Ashamed, he turned to his sister, who was pale and trembling. He hadn't meant it like that, he hadn't meant it like that all, but it was too late to take it all back now as Cali snatched the paperwork out of his hands. She read through it quickly, biting her lip.

She tapped on something on the paper. "Could potentially forge a connection between administer and patient that will affect patient's abilities to emote when in dissonance with administer," she read. "Consequences are as such: headaches, extended bouts of deep sleep, unbalanced emotions, strong and sudden feelings of nostalgia, an urge to be in physical proximity to administer."

"Cali," Malcolm tried. "It's not-"

"Effects may be as follows: superhuman healing wherein the patient may heal from injuries within hours of sustaining them depending on severity, immunity to drugs and serums of any other kind, forced emotional control over self and emotionally close person/s wherein the patient has the potential to use excess emotions of those around her to build an independent physical reaction." She threw the papers down on the table and glared up at Malcolm with watery eyes. "Tommy's right, you made me a damn freak!"

Tommy winced.

Everything was falling apart.

They never should have come, he realised as he gathered the papers together again and slid the back into the folder. His mother's handwriting was swallowed by the typed reports, detailing how unnatural Cali was. How far from normal. How dangerous.

Someone had to tell Oliver.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Cali asked, voice splintering underneath the weight of her despair. "How am I supposed to keep going in my life knowing that I'm not-I'm not human?"

"Of course you're human," Malcolm argued fiercely. "This isn't about being a freak, Cali. This is about being able to handle these powers. After you adjusted to the serum when you were younger, we gave you a natural suppressant, so you wouldn't suffer any of those effects while you were too young to understand."

"So inject me again!"

"I can't!" Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning wearily. "The suppressant won't work because of your age. Your body is too grown up, too advanced, and the serum is too active for the suppressant to do any good."

Cali fell back into the chair, laughing angrily, bitterly. Tommy's heart hitched at how horribly similar it was to Oliver's own twisted love that he'd seen earlier.

Alright, so maybe there was a little bit of monster in everyone.

"So how are we going to fix it?" Tommy asked heavily. Malcolm blinked at him. "Surely you have something. You wouldn't have called us here otherwise."

"That's not true."

"You wouldn't have told us if you didn't have to, don't you dare try and pretend otherwise." Tommy scowled. "So what have you got in mind?"

He had to have something; if Malcolm had nothing, then Tommy would have to watch his sister become something else, something unrecognisable. Something dangerous. Something freaky. Something that was so very far away from what Rebecca had wanted them both to be. Tommy didn't think he could bear it if he had to look at Cali and see someone else.

So Malcolm had to fix it.

He had to.

Tommy didn't have anything else.

Cali filled the silence that Malcolm created through his lack of answer. Her voice was icy. Tommy almost felt bad for his father. "So why were you drugging me?" She asked. "Why spike the lemonade?"

Malcolm's eyes slipped closed as disappointment darkened his features. "You know," he sighed.

"Of course I know," Cali snapped. "Lemonade doesn't taste like that!"

"I needed your blood to synthesise an antidote." Malcolm reached across the table to grab Cali's hand, only to startle to a halt when Cali snatched her whole arm away, holding her hands close to her stomach as though the slightest touch would hurt someone. Malcolm carefully pulled his hand back. "I was hoping that I could make the antidote in secret and then administer it while you were unconscious."

But why? Why drug her for it? Why not just ask for her blood, or why not explain what he was doing? Tommy frowned.

"You didn't want us to know," he realised out loud and Malcolm's shoulders tensed. Cali made a small, wounded noise beside him. "You didn't want to tell us what you'd done, so you drugged her instead."

"I wouldn't phrase it like that-"

Cali cut her father off. "Where's the antidote?"

Malcolm shook his head. "It's too risky. I don't know what the effects will be."

"I don't care." Cali leaned forwards, her purple nails flashing crimson in the restaurant lighting. "Get me the antidote, and then never speak to me again."

"Cali-"

Cali bared her teeth. "Do not think," she hissed lowly, "that I am too weak to strike back. If you come back for us, if you come back for me, I will kill you dead. I owe you nothing. You are no father of mine. I renounce you, and I resent you, and I swear to you if you come near me again they will never find your body. Understood?

Malcolm swallowed, nodded once, and then Cali slid out of the booth and left Tommy alone with his father.

Tommy clapped his hands together. "So," he tried. "Have you ordered anything yet?"