Bearer of Bad(ish) News

[Dr. James Campbell]

Well.



James sat behind his desk with his hand covering his face. Yesterday he'd come home from a recruiting trip in Cleveland that had been...different. It was one of the unfortunate ones where the parents, or in this case a guardian, was all too happy to get rid of a meta child. But at least Danny seemed to be a happy kid anyway, and he hadn't been neglected.



However, his name was Danny Cornelius Cohen. And according to his birth certificate, his father was Cornelius Cohen.



If James was another person, he would have chalked it up to coincidence, but the name Cornelius wasn't exactly a popular one. The recruiter's power confirmed it, the resemblance was there, and significant enough that he was sure he'd met Cee's son.



He just wasn't sure of Cee had ever met him. The computer teacher had never mentioned having a son in Ohio, though it didn't exactly come up when the other man was talking about zombies. (Despite how many times James had said that he wasn't that kind of a doctor.) So the recruiter was debating whether he should bring it up at all. On one hand, if Cee already knew about the boy and was intentionally estranged, then it would be awkward. On the other, James could just imagine how he would feel if Lucy had hid Ginny's existence from him. The recruiter didn't know the circumstances, but he was willing to take the risk there, as a father himself.



It only took him a moment to find Cee's email, then sent off a quick message.



Cee, if you have a minute today, can you swing by my office? I've got to ask you something. -James

[Cee Cohen]

Cee was puzzled to get an email from the recruitment office. He’d been called in about a couple of recruitments in the past, but this didn’t seem like that. No one was being hauled into his classroom in a computer. No one was having issues detangling himself or herself from systems that Cee had heard of. Everything seemed to be fine. Right? Logically? So what did James need?

Maybe it was just computer help. A question indicated that whatever he needed probably didn’t involve zombies. So computer help. Yeah, that made sense.

Cee put on a pair of glasses and tugged on his latest cap—he’d grabbed a blue one in the store in order to stop clashing so terribly—so it covered his still-missing eyebrows. Then he headed over to the recruitment office and leaned over to look in at him.

“Hey, James. Did you need my assistance with something?”

Because why else would someone contact the crazy computer instructor except for computer help? Totally logical.

[Dr. James Campbell]

No, it didn't get easier to figure out to say once the other man had arrived. Again, James worried that this was an intentional situation, and that he was just sticking his nose into someone else's business.

"Well, no, not exactly. It's more of a personal question, if it's all right." Now he wished he had come up with some sort of excuse. He could have purposefully messed up his computer and then tried to work it into the conversation....no, that was stupid. He would have risked breaking his computer irrevocably and there was just no casual way to say "I think I've found your son."

But now that he'd started it, he had to continue. And if he didn't have any kind of relationship with his son, then James felt sorry for him. There was nothing that could replace the time he'd spent with Ginny in her formative years. If he could, he wanted to prevent that from happening with Cee. "There was a boy I just recruited. His name is Danny Cornelius Cohen, and well, he looks a lot like you."

There. Hopefully the straightforward approach was best.

[Cee Cohen]

"Ah, personal?" Cee worried about personal briefly, then decided it must clearly be about zombies and so decided it must be okay. Because it couldn't be about the lack of eyebrows, the reenrollment in therapy, the man's worrying browsing history and his even more concerning continual attendance at hacker's conventions. Or even the fact that he was about to be kicked out of yet another apartment. Nope. Couldn't be any of those things, of course not.

But Cee was eternally hopeful, and so just stepped fully into the room and offered a cheerful smile. "Go ahead."

However, what came out of the recruiter's mouth was not what he'd expected. Cee's smile remained for a time, frozen, as if expecting a joke or some kind of "PSYCH." None came. The man swayed, then caught himself on the chair and, very gingerly, lowered himself into it.

"I, ah..." It was rare for Cee to be at loss for words. He was now. A son. Cornelius Connor Cohen had a son. There were a lot of things to adjust to there. The first was trying to figure out how. The oldest the boy could be was about...12, perhaps. Cee hadn't had enough romantic attachments or relationships to take much effort into figuring out who it could be. Not Anna. Besides, Anna would've told him. Anna would've hauled him back to New York by his ear to go talk to the doctors with her and would've slapped sense back into him. Which meant...

No, no. This had to be a joke, right?

Except James wasn't really the practical joker. And he had a knack for picking up details that others missed.

Cee was as white as a sheet as he slowly removed his glasses, cleaned them on the hem of his shirt, then slid them back on.

"I, ah." Cee's smile was faint. "I was never informed. Given my recent behavior I shouldn't be surprised. But if he's of manifesting age, then I don't see..." He trailed off. "I could've at least..." He shook his head. "Okay. Um. Who was his guardian? Is he here now? Can I, I mean--" He managed a laugh. "James, I never expected to have kids and I'm trying really hard not to be upset that I've had one for almost half of my adult life and no one told me."