Victor glanced at his son-to-be, smiling despite the flutter in his chest. “Nervous?”

“Me? You’re shaking.”

“You’re picking your scars.” The softness of their verbal sparring still surprised Victor, their vitriolic fights a faded nightmare. If he met his past self in the street, he would pass him as a stranger.

“Do you think they’ll refuse the application, given our unique situation?”

“There’s a possibility.” Victor said. He wasn’t sure what the court would think, but friends and family were very supportive despite the initial shock. Victor had never been a fatherly man, so acquiring an adult son was a surprise, if not at all unexpected given how their relationship had changed in the last seven years. “I still think we should consider a first name. I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary confusion.”

His son-to-be shrugged, a violent movement unhelped by his hulking stature. “Who would get us confused? We look nothing alike.”

“I suppose you’re right, my boy.” Victor said, scrawling his signature on the application form. V. Frankenstein.

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