"'Hope for humanity', huh?" Derek said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Both him and Garte were staring out the window at Garte's office. Derek's thoughts were racing with everything Michael had said about this miracle potion. He had talked about using children for initial experimentation.

Children.

Derek could hardly fathom the thought. Zack jumped on the idea of using his only daughter, Aphmau, to receive testing. Elizabeth was eager, too. Garte didn't seem to be against the idea, but a single look from Derek before he was able to speak up put him more on the fence.

It wasn't only the fact that they were testing on children that Derek decided against using his own children. He bore the centuries old Ultima curse. As a result, his son, Aaron, bore the same curse. Derek knew that Aaron's life was going to be hard, and he wasn't going to make it harder than it had to be with a suspicious potion.

"Hm?" Garte asked, snapping back into reality.

"All that Michael said. You heard him. This potion he's making up? It could save the world," Derek replied, almost laughing at the idea. He turned his head to Garte.

"Oh," Garte replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was still a bit out of touch. "I guess so. I don't know, I'm really not skilled in that area."

"You really think it's okay for them to try and use children as guinea pigs?"

"I guess it depends on what he's trying to do. And the effects of said potion," Garte said, still not looking away from the window.

Derek sighed. He figured he should've known that this wouldn't have freaked Garte out in the slightest. The potion itself was still in the concept phase. It hadn't even been made yet, nor had there been actual plans of experimentation.

The Ultima felt the world was always crashing down around him. There was never a moment where he could relax and just be free. The curse was dangerous, and he had the job of protecting his whole family from the public eye. Garte was one of the only ones who knew about the curse outside of the Lycan household. If Derek were to tell anyone else, the effects could have been devastating.

Garte lifted up his wrist to check the time on his watch. He pressed his lips in a line and turned to Derek.

"I should get going," he said.

"Yeah, I should too," Derek replied, knowing he wouldn't actually go home, but to his own office.

The two began walking outside, stopping in Garte's office to grab their jackets. They exited the glass doors and stepped outside into the chilly weather. The glare of the sunset caused both of them to have to squint their eyes.

"Give some more thought to that forever potion, will you?" Derek said, before Garte was able to walk to his car. "I want to know if I'm the only person suspicious of it."

"Will do. I'll let you know what I think once I've given it more thought," Garte said, tilting his head to indicate that he was questioning if Derek had anymore to say.

"Oh, and maybe don't say much to Zianna about it. I'm really not saying anything to Rachel about it," Derek said.

He knew full well that Michael's little conspiracy was probably illegal. He was sure his wife, Rachel, would be avidly against the idea if she were to find out. Even though Derek didn't want to directly participate in experimentation, he saw these potions as a possible good business opportunity. He decided to wait until it was fully in the works to say much.

"Trust me, that'll be easy," Garte laughed. "She's asked me not to be such a 'workaholic'. Guess I'm off the grid after five thirty each evening."

"How dare she make you relax," Derek replied sarcastically.

"You have a warped definition of relaxing if you think breaking up toddler fights is a wind down activity," Garte looked at Derek and smirked.

Derek laughed, and the two men said their goodbyes. They both stepped into their cars and turned them on, feeling the warm air combat the shrill cold that accumulated in their cars. While Garte drove away fairly quickly, Derek sat for a minute. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was troubling him so much.

Was it the forever potion? Was it his worry for both of his two children that carried the curse? Or, could it have been the fact that when he was at the Ro'Meave house he couldn't help but notice the bruises and the tired disposition of little Garroth?

Derek shook his head and began to drive to his own office. He was zoned out as he drove to the building. Though his mind was silent, his thoughts were racing. He was usually able to keep calm about these sort of things, and the worry that he wasn't able to was only adding to his stress.

He parked at his workplace and turned off his car. He walked through the glass doors as everything was winding down. He still had a few hours yet before Rachel expected him to be home.

So, Derek decided to do something he did best.

He began to learn everything about witchcraft. He studied the effects of witchcraft on Ultimas. His brain was soaking in this information like a sponge. He decided it might've been a longer night than he thought, and called Rachel to let her know he would be late that night.

Garte, however, got home right on time. He entered his house, locking the door and taking off both his jacket and shoes. He turned around to face the hallway again and was greeted by little arms wrapping around his legs. His eyes shot down as he saw two shining green eyes looking up at him.

"Hi, daddy!" Vylad exclaimed, smiling as big as he could with his baby teeth.

"Hey, little man," Garte smiled and picked the toddler up.

"Mommy making dinner," Vylad told him, as he did every day when Garte walked in the door.

"Thank you for the update, Pea," Garte laughed, kissing Vylad on the side of his head and walking into the kitchen.

They walked into the room to see Zianna preparing supper and Zane "helping" her the best he could while standing on a stool. Garte greeted his wife with a kiss on the cheek, and Zane with a kiss on top of the head. The three year old seemed to be too entranced by what his mother was doing to notice his dad.

"Daddy, cupcakes!" Vylad exclaimed, pointing to a platter of freshly baked cupcakes on the counter.

"Well, those look good, don't they?" Garte said, smiling at Vylad and brushing stray brown hairs out of his face.

"I helped," Zane said, turning around and acknowledging his father for the first time since he arrived home.

"You did?" Garte replied, placing Vylad on the floor as he was getting antsy. "Well I'm sure those will be the best cupcakes I've ever tasted."

Garte wrapped his arm around Zianna's waist, careful not to be too much in her way while she was cooking. He looked around, realizing he didn't hear or see his oldest son anywhere in the house. The businessman furrowed his eyebrow and looked at his wife.

"Where's Garroth?" He asked gently.

"I would guess he's probably in his room," Zianna said, keeping her eye on the meal she was preparing. "He's been in there for most of the day."

Garte could hear the concern hinted in her voice. He let go of Zianna, and told her that he was going to go check on their son. He walked up the stairs quietly, careful not to make much sound out of suspicion that Garroth was sleeping.

He got to the door and gently knocked. As he turned the golden knob, he saw his suspicions were right. Garroth was sleeping on his bed with his baby blanket practically glued to his arm. Garte's eyes squinted. His concern grew more by the minute, especially since Garroth was not one to take long naps, if any at all.

The father walked over to his son, gently placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. He smiled as Garroth's eyes fluttered open and looked straight at him. The similarities between the two of them were clear.

"Hey, buddy," Garte began. "You're pretty tired, huh? How long have you been sleeping?"

Garroth rolled onto his back and rubbed his eye, his blanket still within reach. His back arched as he was trying to wake up. Garte once again saw bruises, new and old on his body. He tried to hide his concern and shifted his focus onto making sure Garroth was waking up alright.

"Well, let's wake up a little, hm? Dinner's almost ready," Garte said gently.

Garroth sat up slowly and nodded his head, gripping the little blue blanket in his fists. He was staring off, as though he was still dreaming. It was obvious to anyone that the child was still exhausted, and wouldn't have woken up for a while had his father not walked in.

"Would you like some water, little man?" Garte offered, still seeing that he wasn't waking up all the way after several minutes.

"I'm okay," Garroth said, crawling into his father's lap and resting his head on his chest.

Garte rubbed Garroth's back gently and kissed the top of his head. He would pat his son's back here and there as he zoned out, consumed with his own thoughts.

He knew his son shouldn't be acting like this. This wasn't their hyper, funny, charismatic, full of life little boy. Garroth wasn't being his usual self, and it was slowly becoming obvious. Garte drew a deep breath in.

Maybe it was time for him to do some research, too.