know who i am by the life i've lead

totally fine

Just—real quick. Douglas thinks he would be a good dad to the Rats, but I honestly don't have the brain power to think that hard rn, so we'll just say it's up in the air for now lol.

Anyway there's several not-so-subtle mentions to Adam being, well, Adam, with both how he hurts Chase (let's be honest, he's not the nicest brother out there) and the way he struggles academically. This isn't me putting down people with learning disabilities or anything, as I myself struggle to learn the traditional way, but I personally headcanon that Adam, as Douglas' first experiment, doesn't have a fully developed brain, as well as ADHD/ADD, dyslexia, whatever you want to say, not to mention all the times he hits his head, so it makes him harder to process shit most people can.

And finally with Bree, this is more focused on Chase, but I might write a little something addressing Bree's shit better. Self-harm is a very serious thing, but she isn't suicidal in here, just needs something to relieve her stress, and doesn't know any better. I promise Donald and Douglas, outside the confines of this fic, get Bree all the help she needs and a healthier way for her to relieve her anger and stress.

...

He hadn't been living with them long, only a few weeks at most. He had his own room and bathroom thanks to Donnie's excessive need to have more rooms than he actually needed, and with Chase's tendency to skip meals (which should have been the first clue, if not the second), it wasn't too much trouble for Tasha to pick up a few extra groceries for him at the store.

In truth, it wasn't even when Bree destroyed her chip to live her own life, or how the kids didn't seem to get certain things like not giving all their money to spam callers, or, on occasion, even how to eat some kinds of foods.

("Adam, you're not supposed to eat an avocado with the peel on."

Adam stared at him absently.

"Frankly, it's weird to even eat an avocado straight-up like that."

"I thought it was a moldy pear."

"...you're not supposed to eat rotten fruit, either.")

All those things and more weren't Douglas' first red flags. No, the first flag was Chase's bruises.

It was the evening of the third week mark, when he was heading down to the Lab's elevator to grab his laptop, and he bumped into Chase getting off. He was looking moodier than usual, and pale, and wearing a striped long-sleeve shirt despite it being ninety degrees out.

"Something the matter?" Douglas asked, like the father he was supposed to be. Douglas would deny anyone that claimed he had a parental bone in his body, but everyone knew he was full of shit.

Chase didn't immediately apologize like he normally would, and instead just grunted out a reply. He didn't seem all there, with the way he just stood there awkwardly for a moment, favoring his left leg, like he was trying to decide whether to continue ignoring his father-slash-uncle or not, but ultimately gave in. It wasn't like Chase to brush people off, and even more so for him to hesitate.

"Just a rough training session, 's all."

Douglas frowned. The kids had training yesterday, and the day before that; it wasn't like Donald to push them so hard.

"What did you do?" This time Chase hesitated longer. He was shifting foot to foot, one of his tells that he was lying.

"Just...some sparring. Nothing too bad."

"Uh-huh." He eyed him, noting the way he was positioning his body at an angle so he couldn't get a look at his left shoulder. "Then why are you lying?"