The first time Christopher had called him Dad, it had been awkward on so many levels that they had both blushed and let it go. In time, they had settled with Father for public events and Julian for their everyday routine. But every now and then, he still called him Dad, and Julian couldn't be prouder each and every time.
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For the longest time, Matt had felt completely out of place at the Brooks household. He had no interest in Julian's work and understood little of whatever Christopher did. But that night when Alex came, so thin, and so pale, and so lost, Matthew had finally known what he was supposed to be: a brother.
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Yellow-greens, orange-reds, and all shades of blue zoomed in the swimming pool, his three sons deeply committed to a game of tag. From above, the sun shone brightly off the scales, giving Julian an unexpected show of dizzying acrobatics and iridescent tails.
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They couldn't feel the cold, not even of deep waters and in complete darkness, but that only meant that heatwaves were ten times worse for them. Lying at the bottom of the swimming pool, all four Brooks sighed in content.
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"God, Chris! I swear, if you give me one more hug, I'm gonna drown you in your sleep!"
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Sometimes, the strangest part of this family wasn't that they could turn their legs into tails and their skin into scales, but the fact that against all odds, they had found each other.
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