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There was a visible slump to Herbert’s shoulders as he hung up his school bag. Jayce watched from the kitchen as his son slowly made his way into the house. Each step was punctuated by the loud tap of his cane on the hardwood floor.
“What's wrong mijo,” Jayce asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
When Herbert had left for school, his collapsible cane had been stowed in his bag. He also had accommodations set up with the school so he was able to get out P.E. if he had a pain flare up.
The boy grunted in response as he took his seat at the table. His cane slotted neatly into a little hook.
The cane was covered in stickers, showing Herbert’s favourite animals and comic book characters. Viktor had suggested the idea as a way to make the mobility aid feel more like an extension of himself. It was already going to stand out, he had said, so why not make it yours. Viktor had also hoped that it would give Herbert a reprieve from being instantly bombarded with questions about his disability whenever he met someone new. And from what he saw, Herbert was definitely more social than he was at that age.
Jayce put a plate of cut fruit on the table and sat down next to his son. He didn't push. He knew that it sometimes took a while for Herbert to find the right way to put his thoughts into words.
Once they had made it halfway through the plate Herbert looked down at his lap and clasped his hands together.
“Papa, why don't I look like you?”
The two scientists knew they would have to have the talk eventually. There would come a point where someone would say “Oh, you look just like your Tati.” Or ask “How did your dads decide on who got to do the IVF?” Or Herbert would glimpse one of the few pictures of Viktor in his academy days and figure it out on his own.
They were never going to keep it a secret, but they wanted to wait for when he was ready.
“What brought this up?” Jayce asked tentatively. Viktor wouldn’t be home for another hour or so and he didn’t want to have this conversation on his own.
“We were learning about genetics at school,” Herbert kept his head down, “The teacher was talking about how what we looked like is a mix of what our parents look like. There was an activity where we had to write down what we thought we… inherited from each parent.”
Jayce raised his eyebrows. Gay couples were not a rarity in Piltover. He and Viktor had both met with Herbert’s teacher before the school year started. So the exercise seemed tone-deaf.
“I tried my best, but everything I could think about matched Tati instead of you.” Herbert finally met his gaze, his amber eyes slightly rimmed with red.
Jayce opened his arms, inviting his son to climb onto his lap.
“It’s ok mijo. Has your teacher told you about how babies are made?”
The boy shook his head, burying it into Jayce’s chest.
“How about we wait until Tati gets home so he and I can explain it all to you? Actually, I’ll send him a message so he comes home early. Does that sound good?”
“Why can’t you explain it?” Herbert muttered.
“Well, you know how Tati is better at explaining things with his words than me. And I know you won’t like this, but it will all make sense when we explain it.”
The boy pouted. He never liked it when his questions didn’t have a clear answer. It was even worse when they were outright dismissed.
“Fine. But you need to let me write the message.” He picked up his cane and made his way to the pneumatic tube by the front door. A small table sat underneath it holding some paper and spare capsules.
“Remember Papa needs to write the address so the post office can read it!” Jayce called after him.
“For a baby to be made you need two things, a sperm and an egg. Each of them has half of the genes the baby needs,” Viktor said, pointing to the pictures in a text book he had brought from the office.
“Like a chicken egg?” Herbert asked, looking up at him.
“No brouček, these eggs don't have shells. Also the egg doesn’t get laid, the baby grows inside the parent.”
“Mhm,” Herbert hummed thoughtfully.
“Now whether or not a person can produce sperm, eggs, or both, depends on their genitals,” Viktor continued. He had insisted on making sure that his son had learned the anatomically correct terms for his body parts, including but not limited to his genitals. This was not only for his safety, but so he could better communicate with medical professionals. “You, me, and Papa have penises. So, as far as we know, we can only produce sperm. Though for most people, one of their parents made the egg and the other made the sperm.”
“So where did the egg that made me come from?” the boy asked, turning to Jayce, “Since Tati made the sperm.”
Jayce took a breath to compose himself. He wasn’t sure how Viktor was planning to transition the conversation to Herbert’s actual conception.
“For most parents who can’t make an egg, they use someone called a surrogate who can.” Jayce tried to make eye contact with his partner. “The parents pick which one of them provides the sperm. The egg is taken out of the surrogate, and a scientist puts the egg and sperm together. Then the fertilised egg, which will grow into the baby, gets put back into the surrogate. After that, the baby grows like normal.”
“But you were not made like that Herbert, you are special,” Viktor quickly chimed in, sensing the question his son was about to ask.
“Yes, like Tati said, you were born in a different way,” Jayce affirmed, “We’re just telling you this to explain why it was rude of your teacher to give you that activity.”
“Not to mention, some children are adopted so they may not look like either of their parents.”
“So how was I made then?” the boy’s brows furrowed.
Jayce reached behind him to give Viktor’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. The men shared small smiles.
“The reason you don't look like Papa,” Viktor took a deep breath, “is because you are genetically identical to me.”
“I’m a clone?” Herbert asked in disbelief.
His fathers nodded.
“You won't remember, but when you were younger I used to take lots of medicines because I was very sick,” Viktor started, “Aunty Sky and I were trying to find a way to make me a lot healthier. We managed to do that but it was hard because it was something that nobody had tried before since it involved magic.
One day, Papa was helping us with our experiments. But we had not given him the proper instructions so he accidentally made a mistake. But I'm glad he made that mistake because it gave us you.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Jayce chuckled as he ruffled his son's hair, “You are quite literally, our magical baby.”
Herbert’s face remained blank. Normally he would have pouted and quickly set about returning his hair to normal.
“I know you have plenty of questions brouček, but how about we take an ice cream break first?”
The boy nodded. He snuggled into Viktor as Jayce went to fetch the ice cream.
“How do you know that I am actually the same as Tati?” Herbert asked as he put his empty bowl on the coffee table. A thin layer of strawberry ice cream sat on his upper lip.
Viktor hummed, retrieving his handkerchief. Herbert squirmed as his father cleaned his face.
“Daaad,” he groaned, “I can do it myself.”
“Licking it off doesn’t count brouček,” Viktor tutted, pocketing the cloth. “To answer your question, we just assumed. We never did a DNA test, since we wanted to make sure you had a say in that decision.”
“It’s not something that we can do ourselves,” Jayce continued, “So there would always be the risk that the results would become public. And while we would like to let other people know about the technology that made you, that’s far into the future.”
“So you have no proof?” Herbert narrowed his eyes in thought, an expression so Viktor that it melted Jayce’s heart without fail.
“I would not say that. We have plenty of observational evidence,” Viktor said. The two men had been glad that their son was so interested in science, but it occasionally had its downsides.
“But not the most conclusive evidence,” the boy muttered under his breath.
“Papa, if I'm a clone of Tati, why don't I talk like him?” Herbert asked as he came into the kitchen. Jayce was standing at the stove, frying eggs for breakfast.
Jayce turned to look at his boy, whose hair was sticking out in all directions like he had just rolled out of bed. His leg brace had been haphazardly secured over his pajamas.
Jayce took the pan off the heat and put the food aside. It would probably be a few minutes until his husband decided to make an appearance. He reached into the fridge to get the bottle of orange juice.
“Not everything about you is genetic mijo,” Jayce replied, “The way you talk is based on who you grow up with.” He poured them each a glass and slid one across the bench.
Herbert took his juice with a grateful hum.
“Tati, what’s your observational evidence?”
Viktor jumped. He quickly spat out the toothpaste in his mouth, before turning to the boy who had snuck into the bathroom.
“What observational evidence?” he asked. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be having this conversation. It was a school day, and Jayce was probably waiting in the living room, ready to do the final checks of his son’s uniform.
Viktor had woken up stiff and tired. While it wasn’t bad enough to warrant using his wheel chair, he had chosen to skip school drop-off.
“The evidence that I’m your clone.” Herbert crossed his arms over his chest.
Viktor cleaned his toothbrush and put it back into its holder.
“Well, the easiest one to make is that we both have femoral anteversion of the right leg.”
“But people can be disabled for different reasons, and you wear more braces than I do,” the boy countered. Viktor held back a sigh, of course his son had a valid argument. He was starting to regret buying him that book on logical fallacies for his last birthday.
“I did not have the same access to treatment that you did growing up. A lot of medical technologies did not exist yet, and if they did, they would not have been available in Zaun.”
Before Herbert could respond, Jayce’s voice rang through the apartment.
“Herbert! You don’t want to be late for school.”
It took almost a week before Herbert was finally convinced of his origins and it happened completely by accident.
Herbert woke up to a pain flare up. It was a bone-deep ache and it wouldn’t go away. So he slowly navigated the dark apartment to go to his dads’ bedroom.
As the door creaked open, Viktor groggily sat up in bed. He had been woken up by the tapping of his son’s cane.
“Tati… hurts,” Herbert groaned.
Viktor opened his arms and made room for the boy. Herbert gladly climbed into the bed and nuzzled into his father’s embrace.
“I know brouček,” Viktor kissed his forehead, “But if you take your strong painkillers, you will be drowsy. And that would probably mean missing your first few hours of school.”
“No!” The boy looked surprised at how loud the statement came out. Thankfully Jayce was a heavy sleeper. “We’re getting a visit from some people at the museum. I can’t miss school.”
“How about this,” Viktor replied, “I’ll give you a massage, and if that doesn’t work we’ll get your pills. If you cannot sleep, then you will not be able to make it through the school day.”
Herbert nodded, wincing as he laid his leg across Viktor’s lap.
Viktor’s long fingers skillfully dug into his thigh. Knots of tension slowly unwound.
As the massage continued, Herbert finally noticed that his tati wasn’t wearing a shirt. His eyes were drawn to a familiar cluster of moles near Viktor’s bellybutton.
“I have those,” Herbert sleepily murmured. Without thinking, he poked his father in the stomach.
“Hm?” Viktor looked down at his son’s hand. “Do you believe that you’re my clone now, brouček?” he joked.
“Yes,” Herbert murmured.
The next moment, he was fast asleep.