His brothers were hidden in an alleyway between two dumpsters. It smelled sharply of refuse, but gave access to a brick wall that humans wouldn’t have been able to scale. Deimos and his brothers would have no trouble climbing it to get onto the roof, if an escape was needed.

Perses rumbled a dangerous sound, the red dragon hunched over their two younger brothers. It stopped abruptly when Deimos made himself known.

“Food,” he said, dropping the boxes in front of them.

Without question, they pulled open the boxes and tore into the pizza, starving just as much as he was.

“What’s it?” Moros asked, mouth full. He’d captured one of the eyeball squids between his claws, and experimentally pulled off one of its legs. 

“Pizza,” Deimos’ tail ticked away the seconds. “The eyeballs are horrors. They’re from the Undercity.”

Icelus squeaked, little tail wiggling as he devoured a triangle covered in flecks of gleaming gold. “It’s good!”

“It is,” Deimos agreed. “Eat quickly, we have trackers on us still. Too deep to get out ourselves.”

“Where’re we going? Did you find out how to get into the Undercity? Are we going there?” Icelus licked his fingers, reaching for another slice.

“No.” Deimos practically shook with excitement. “I found the dragons. They will help us.”

All of his brothers froze, staring up at him.

“You did? Do they know about… about us?” Perses whispered, wide shoulders hunched as he tried to stay hidden behind the dumpster. He hung back from the boxes, letting their littler brothers eat first, despite the echoing ache of hunger Deimos could feel from him. 

Deimos bumped his head against Perses. “No. They don’t know about that.”

Some of the tension eased in his brother’s neck. “But they know we’re made from them?”

Deimos nodded. “I touched… His name is Dionysis. When I touched them, it was like I could feel the whole ocean in front of me.” He stared down at his hands. “Like I could feel all of them.”

“Are they nice?” Moros asked, individually picking at the legs of the horrors to eat, before popping the enormous eye between his teeth.

“I think Dionysis is…” Deimos passed a pizza slice to Perses insistently.

“Did you meet, um, all of them?” Icelus asked, single eye wide. The brow over his empty eye socket rose too, making the scarred scales stretch.

“Only two of them.” Deimos pet over Icelus’ head. “I saw… I think he is yours. He has blue markings like you.”

Icelus ducked his head fiddling with his claws. “Is Dionysus yours? You said they’re nice.”

“I think they are.” Deimos stared down at his hands. “Our scales were similar…”

“And they wanted you?”

“I…” Deimos looked sheepish. “I think so, yes.”

“Do they know they’re yours?”

“I don’t know.” Deimos scratched at his arm. “Maybe.”

Icelus nodded.

“Where’re we meeting them?” Moros asked, ponderously chewing a corner of the oil stained cardboard box. 

“Once we finish eating.”

“I’m done!” Moros popped to his feet.

Peres finished nibbling his slice and stood, brushing gravel off his knees. Icelus took Deimos’ hand, and the eldest led them all back up the hill. They crept through the sleeping city, Deimos in the lead, until he saw the house with the chicken weather vane turning slowly in the ocean breeze. 

Dionysus waited by the fire escape of the building, purple hoodie making them blend almost entirely with the shadows. They stepped closer at Deimos’s approach, pausing to look at the other three dragons accompanying him. 

“Deimos.” Their voice was warm and soft, like Deimos’s name was the most pleasing word in the world to say. They held out their hands, palms up. “Did you encounter any trouble?”

“No,” Deimos answered. 

He reached out with his free hand. Dionysus’s hand was warm, corners of their mouth tilted upwards. There was no lightning strike of purple light, nor the afterimage of a dragon, this time. However, the way Dionysus rubbed their thumb over the back of Deimos’s hand felt just as pleasing to experience. 

“That is good. Chi is waiting on the roof. Can you climb?” Dionysus motioned at the fire escape ladder bolted to the side of the building.

“Yes.” Deimos glanced at Icelus, who clung to his arm. “Perses, Moros.”

The two went up ahead, while Deimos turned to Icelus. 

“I will carry you,” he said.

Icelus eyed the fire escape, breath trembling. “I…”

“It’s like the last vent,” Deimos soothed, lifting Icelus into his arms. “Close your eyes and hold on.”

“Are you alright?” Dionysus asked. 

“He is functional,” Deimos said, though it was obviously a lie.

“That was not in question,” the older dragon assured. “I can carry him, if he would like.”

Icelus stiffened, and Deimos held his baby brother a little closer. “No, I can do it.”

Dionysus nodded. “I will be behind you on the ladder. I will not let you come to harm.”

Icelus tucked his face into Deimos’ shoulder, arms wrapped around Deimos’s neck from behind as he clung to his back. Deimos climbed up the ladder, compensating easily for his littlest brother’s weight. Icelus clung to him so tightly his claws dug into Deimos’s shoulders, piercing the scales. Deimos didn’t flinch, he just kept climbing.

The building’s roof flattened out behind the ornamental peak at its front. In the short time since Deimos left, Chi somehow procured tarps, which he’d laid across the ground to form a field operation theater. Tools were laid out too on a short table; Deimos recognized the scalpels.

Deimos carefully set Icelus on his feet, though the smallest dragon still clung to his arm.

Chi pushed away from the wall he had been leaning on, eyes bright. He smiled. 

“Hey there Deimos! You want to introduce us to your siblings?” His eyes lingered on Icelus’s blue marks, and the scar where his eye used to be.

Deimos’s younger brothers sank behind him, Icelus especially. He peered out and Deimos saw a flicker of complex emotions on both dragons’ faces when they saw the scar over his eye. He tensed, crest rising, ready to defend his younger brother should they upset him.

“This is Perses,” Deimos said, motioning. “Moros, and Icelus.”

Moros offered a small wave. Icelus peered out around Deimos, staring at Chi. A flutter of shyness came from him.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Chi even sounded pleased, though the complicated thing was still in his expression.

“Are you–” Icelus started to speak up but fell quiet again, tucking back behind Deimos.

“That’s Chi,” Deimos murmured.

Icelus peeked back out. “Hello…”

Chi’s face softened. “Hello there kiddo. You okay?”

Icelus nodded automatically. Deimos squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Heights are not optimal,” Deimos said flatly.

Chi nodded seriously. “They aren’t. But we won’t be up here for long. Will you be okay up here for a little bit?”

Icelus nodded again, firmly. They had no choice but to be okay.

That complicated thing was back in Chi’s face, but he nodded too. 

Dionysus scanned over the medical theater, transparent purple holographic screens floating around him. Deimos could make out streetview images on a few, as if Dionysus was looking through cameras, while others scrolled with lines of code too fast to make out.

“Okay, who’s going first?” Chi said, clapping his hands. “Dragon doctor Chi is at your service! We’ll get the things in your neck, then the trackers.”

“I will,” Deimos said shortly. If something happened, if the explosive went off, at least his brothers would be able to return to Knight and beg forgiveness. They wouldn’t be punished for Deimos’s failure if Deimos was dead.

“Deimos,” Perses said quietly. “I can handle more than you–”

Deimos growled at him, baring his fangs. Perses rumbled back, but with an irritated twitch of his tail, he backed down.

Deimos took a seat on the tarp where he was directed, and Perses took over as their little brothers’ anchor. Chi had him lay down, placing several pillows around his head to keep him still.

“I’m applying a local anesthetic,” Chi said, and Deimos felt a prick against the back of his neck, then a slowly spreading numbness. “This is the mix we use for ourselves, but your metabolism is probably different from us, and you could run through it faster. If it starts hurting, let us know so we can apply more. Ready?”

“Yes sir,” Deimos answered automatically.