TW: Slight talk of violence and death

"He did what?"

"You did what?"

Michael, Elizabeth, Zack, Derek, and Garte were having a small meeting in Michael's office. A brief one, and hardly unusual as they were occurring more frequently.

Derek had just inquired about the purple bruise that covered Zack's eye and inner nose. It was clear it was fresh, and simple tasks such as blinking or breathing through his nose were evidently a sore task.

"Why don't you ask Garte?" Zack had snapped back at Derek.

Garte sat on a light blue couch in the corner of Michael's office. He wasn't really listening, but looked up when all eyes landed on him. All, except for Zack's, who wouldn't meet his eye. Garte looked at everyone in the room and shrugged, looking back down.

"There was business to take care of," he said nonchalantly. "I took care of it."

Tension loomed in the room until Michael broke it by bursting with laughter. No one else in the room laughed, and Michael was doubled over before he could speak again.

"If there's one person I never know what to expect from," Michael shook his head and laughed again. "It's Garte Ro'Meave."

Derek could only stare at his best friend with his jaw dropped. Garte was rarely confrontational and often kept quiet about his opinions until there was no other choice but for him to speak up. He wasn't timid or shy, but he avoided conflict at any cost.

Yet, he realized, what Michael said was more lately becoming true. Derek had known this man since high school, they had been seen for years as a duo. Inseparable, as their wives would describe them. They had seen each other at their worst and best, had been present at each other's weddings as best men.

But Garte's behavior was becoming more unpredictable. Where Derek could once think ahead to how Garte would react to something, and often be right, there was now no telling how he would perceive any situation. Derek just chalked it up to almost losing a child, and both of them having a lot on their plate with sales.

"It was none of your business," Zack mumbled.

"You cheated on your wife," Garte said, revealing the secret to everyone in the room apart from Elizabeth.

"Yours cheated on you," Zack hissed back.

"I hope you have an excellent plastic surgeon on call if you're going to keep talking about my wife like that," Garte replied coldly.

Michael laughed again, and Derek couldn't help but let out a snort at Zack's eyes glaring daggers back at Garte. Elizabeth was speechless, but found herself instinctively siding with Zack. Michael sat down behind his desk and shook his head.

"Alright, alright, I just called you all here to discuss sales, and the children," Michael chortled, still unable to contain his laughter.

Zack was still too angry to let out words, so Elizabeth began to speak. She touched on how the children were doing great overall, and how Katelyn and Garroth specifically were given the strongest potions they could muster. Garte furrowed his eyebrows. He was not keen on the revelation that he had little idea what was going into his son's body.

Yet, there was nothing he could do about it. He needed Garroth alive.

Zack inhaled deeply and brought up the numbers, talking about not just the children but the adult test subjects that Derek and Garte were able to recruit. He expressed that the numbers were showing positive signs. Given how well everything had been going, there was an evident sign of hope for the potion gaining immense popularity.

"And the sales?" Michael turned to Derek and Garte.

"They're going well," Derek nodded and shrugged. There wasn't much else to report other than what was in the documents already given to Michael.

"Now if only you could use that wit of yours," Michael smiled and turned to Garte, "to convince this one to let his son in on the trials."

Derek rolled his eyes. This was an ongoing conversation, and no matter how many times he said no, Michael continued to press. He got so annoyed sometimes he was almost convinced to say yes just so the wizard would quit asking.

"You know damn well that's not happening, Michael," Derek scowled.

Michael looked again not to Derek, but to Garte, with lifted eyebrows and a smug smile. Garte glowered slightly at Michael and shook his head.

"You heard him," Garte shrugged.

Michael, letting out a frustrated sigh, dismissed Garte and Derek. Though Derek was anxious to hear what they were talking about behind their backs, Garte was excited to not be in the room with Zack anymore. The feeling from Zack was mutual, if not greater.

As they were walking out, Derek caught up with Garte and put a hand on his shoulder. His beaming smile came out of nowhere compared to his disdainful look in the office.

"You punched Zack," Derek laughed as he said.

"It was so fucked," Garte could only smile at Derek as they continued walking. "He went as far as to say it was her fault."

"You're joking."

"Not a bit," Garte shook his head. "I wasn't going to go over and hit him before that, but hearing that and then seeing that he was not suffering at all when I got there... well, let's just say I made sure he did."

"Irene," Derek laughed again. "Good for you, man."

He clapped Garte on the shoulder. Once they were outside, Derek turned to Garte and stopped him before they could continue walking. The weather was still chilly, but warming up slowly. It was not unbearable to be outside now, and the snow had melted away.

"I needed to talk to all of you about something, but maybe Michael dismissing the meeting is a sign that it should stay between us," Derek began.

"What's up?" Garte asked, leaning against the red brick wall of the building.

Derek took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how to word this news, and it was overwhelming for him. He could only predict how Garte might react.

Then again, he could hardly predict it at all anymore.

"About a week ago, one of our beneficiaries came to me with news of multiple deaths from people who had taken the potion," Derek began. Garte's eyes widened. "I don't know exactly what happened, but all of them took the potion. All he gave me was the numbers. He begged me to run them."

"And did you?" Garte asked in a shushed voice.

"I tried, but I struggled," Derek admitted. "That's where you come in."

Garte's breath hitched in his throat. His mind quickly jumped to conclusions and he was frightened that they were partly responsible for the deaths of many, and a possibly growing number. Not only that, his son's survival depended on this. The idea that Michael might find out he even ran the numbers terrified him down to his bones.

But, Garte also knew he couldn't just let people die. If nothing else, the scandal would come out. Derek shared the same fear of their businesses being taken down.

"You sure you can't run them? I mean they're just groups of data," Garte inquired, trying his best to stay out of this one.

"Garte, come on," Derek sighed. "You and I both know you're a better statistician than I am. You always have been."

"I don't think that's entirely true," Garte shook his head. He truly believed it, too.

"Acknowledge your worth, G," Derek said. "I'm asking as your friend, please run these numbers. Lives could depend on it."

Garte looked down at the data he was given. They didn't mean anything yet without calculations. But it dawned on him that running these numbers could not just alter the course of the lives of those whose names he did not know, but the children he did know.

"Alright," Garte looked up and nodded.

Derek smiled and clapped his best friend on the shoulder again as they walked to their cars.

Meanwhile, while Garte and Derek were dismissed, Michael was discussing things with the two doctors that stood before him. He spent another moment laughing at Zack, and had finally settled down.

"Garte's behavior has been different lately. Not noticeably so, but when you think about it the truth is evident," Michael observed.

Elizabeth and Zack exchanged glances. Garte was the last person Zack wanted to be talking about. Thanks to him, Zack was getting stares and questions from all over about the dark bruise that encircled his nose and eye.

"Could it just be depression? Anger and aggression is a way it can show up in adult males," Elizabeth asked, knowing fully well that this was a possibility.

Zack shook his head, making his nose sore as he did it. He hadn't known Garte as long as Derek had, but he had known him long enough that anger was not the way Garte's depression manifested itself. Michael quickly agreed.

"I wouldn't even go as far as to say he's aggressive. A bit of a shorter temper, sure. He's certainly a bit physically stronger," Michael continued.

The wizard stood up and looked out the window. His mind was racing with possibilities of why this man's behavior had changed, just so slightly. He did not completely understand human beings, but this little change seemed too abrupt.

"Zack, when Garroth was still sick, you gave Garte a sample of the Forever Potion," Michael said, still looking out the window.

Zack shook his head once again, not thinking about how it had previously made his face sore. "That was fake," he insisted.

"No, it wasn't," Elizabeth gently spoke up.

Zack tried to argue, but Elizabeth's story was consistent.

Michael had originally instructed both of them to give Garte a real, small amount of the potion. He wanted Garte to see that it was truly not harmful, and hadn't been.

Zack, however, was adamantly against the idea. He persisted that the potion had not yet been properly tested on human beings, and that the Ro'Meave family could not handle another complication during that time. So, they planned to give Garte a fake one. Garte would never know the difference, and Elizabeth and Zack could still say they gave it to him.

At the last minute, Elizabeth felt her mind racing with the scary possibility of losing her job and career. She was terrified of Michael finding out, and the project she cared so deeply about being ripped away from her. So, she switched them out and kept the lie to Zack that the potion was fake.

Zack bit the inside of his cheek, entirely angry that Elizabeth had lied to him.

"Well," Michael turned around and smiled.

"I think that answers that."