Flash Fic Redux - Brothers

3/18/2532 (Terran Standard Reckoning)

Today was the first day I had breakfast with my foster family. I wasn't sure what it would be like. The smells that came from the kitchen were half-familiar, mixed with strange scents that seemed good. I came down carefully, dressed for school. My foster family smiled when I came into the kitchen, keeping their teeth hidden.

"Morning, Krosa," my foster mother said cheerfully. "I managed to find some levo-sugar flour at the starport market. And some Cylagauto dairy product. Actually had to make butter by hand. It's maybe not quite like what you're used to, but I've got orders in for more supplies." She placed a stack of three baked discs with a cross-hatch pattern on them in front of me. The spaces between the lines held melted butter in them, and a small steel cup sat next to them. "I know your homeworld didn't have maple syrup, but I think this will be a decent enough substitute." I picked up the cup and sniffed. Cylagauto honey. I poured it over the stack, watching the butter spread out into adjacent spaces. My first waffles. It's not something I ever would have had before this, but it's somehow right. I cut out a small wedge and took a bite. It was crunchy and chewy, the butter rich, the honey adding sweetness. I set to work on the rest of the stack.

My foster brother, Levi, looked at my stack. "Could I have a bite?" he asked pleasantly. His own plate had a few small crumbs and smears of what I'm guessing was "maple syrup." He didn't seem like he was hungry, but genuinely curious about how the waffles would taste.

"No dice, Lev," my foster father says firmly. "It does look good, but it's not something you can eat. It's why your mother had to get specific flour and milk." He nods towards me, smiling gently. "Krosa has different biochemistry than we do. If he tried to eat your waffles, he might get sick because his body couldn't process the sugars and proteins. Same thing would happen with you trying to eat his waffles. We're going to be color coding the pantry and fridge while you two are at school to make sure we don't get foods mixed up."

"Means we can't share snacks?" Levi asked, looking a little disappointed. I didn't realize before how much importance humans put on being able to share food.

"Afraid not, guys. But, on the other hand, it probably means his lunch is safe from people trying to steal it."

Levi nodded and finished drinking some juice. My foster mother cleared the dishes once I'd finished my breakfast, then handed Levi and myself lunch cases. "I'm sorry if lunch isn't much," she said, a layer of concern in her voice. "It's a ready pack. Probably sick of those things."

She wasn't wrong. Dextro-protein ready packs were common in the refugee camps. Two years of them makes even one of my people want to hurt others violently. "It's all right," I said, gently taking the case from her.

"Once I get the groceries in, we'll plan out something a little better, OK?" I felt myself smiling back at the question. I don't know if she knows how badly I hate ready packs, but the fact she's willing to make something better feels good. "There's a jelly cup in your case besides the ready pack. Impulse buy, but I thought it might make lunch a little better."

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"Have fun at school, boys," my foster father says as I head out the door with Levi, walking to the bus stop.

My first day at school was interesting. Levi and I had different classes, but the same lunch period. I introduced myself several times. Yes, I'm a Cylag. Yes, I was displaced during the Cylag-Sskthir War. No, I don't know why the war happened. Yes, I was in a refugee camp for a couple years. No, my biological parents are not alive. Yes, I have foster parents here on Treetrunk.

The teachers seemed to take things in stride. Most of the students finally stopped staring after a while and focused on the lessons. A few couldn't quite stop, but I ignored them to focus on the teachers. Math was a challenge, but I think I understand why humans go with a base 10 system for most operations. History is currently limited to the founding and early years of Treetrunk. Life skills went over how to make simple repairs to home environmental systems.

Lunch period came and I sat down with Levi. We talked about class and how my first day was going when another student came up and took the jelly cup off the table. I turned and stood up. The student in question was taller than myself or Levi by a wide margin. His eyes seemed unusually close set, his body much chunkier than Levi. "You gotta pay a tax, yak-face," he growled.

Levi stood up next to me, his expression looking intense and focused. "Quinlan, you really are dumber than you look," he said, his own voice low and steady. "That jelly cup was made with levo-sugars. You try eating it, you'll be lucky if it just tastes like crap."

"Since when do you care about the yaks, Carson?"

"Doesn't matter. Put the jelly back down and walk away." There was a note in Levi's voice that seemed vaguely frightening to me.

Quinlan didn't seem to notice or care. He dropped the cup on the floor of the lunch room, then stomped on it. Jelly squirted out everywhere. "See? I put it down," he said with a nasty smile, teeth bared.

What happened next happened so fast, I didn't really see it. One moment, Levi was standing next to me, trembling heavily. The next moment, Quinlan was on the floor, red-faced and wheezing, Levi standing over him with a balled fist. Quinlan tried to get up and Levi kicked him hard in the ribs. "Stay down," Levi snarled. "You try to get up again, you're swallowing teeth." Quinlan stayed down on the floor, eyes wide with fear.

While sitting outside the dean of students' office, I asked Levi why he'd done that. Why he'd fought somebody like Quinlan.

"Because you're my foster brother, Kro. Emphasis on the 'brother' part." He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a small smile. "Before you arrived last night, Dad sat down with me, and we had a talk. He told me that you would be living with us. He told me that you were going to be part of the family, because they weren't able to place you with another Cylag family. And because of that, we had a responsibility to look out for you. My parents are your parents for as long as you're on Treetrunk. So that means you're my brother as long as you're on Treetrunk."

"But we're not biological relatives!" I protested.

"That's the whole point, Krosa," Levi said with a laugh. "Foster parents are supposed to be temporary, but it doesn't always work out that way. It's about making sure there's a family unit supporting kids who don't have them. If that happens till you're old enough to go out on your own, then it happens. But you're not alone here. We may not be Cylag, but we're your family. Since Mom and Dad can't be here at school, that means I have to look out for you. And I'm good with that."

(Originally written on r/humansarespaceorcs)