Fredrick stomped into the room feeling angry and betrayed. He walked up to the coffee table and splattered the papers he had found in the basement as his parents watched hime in awe.

"What are you doing?" his father asked and Fred turned to him with a fire in his eyes.

He quickly rummaged through the old newspapers and files until he found a single crumpled note and held it up. It was barely readable, but his parents seemed to know what it said; the color had drained from their faces and his mother looked away as she tucked her hand under her lap, a sign she was uncomfortable or merely frightened.

Fred's father cleared his throat and his voice grew low and demanding. " Where did you find that?"

"In the basement," Fred spit out, "a basement I never knew existed."

Fred's dad turned to his wife in disbelief as she began sobbing.

"Marilyn? Explain." He was clearly angry and hanging on a very thin thread.

"I couldn't do it George. I couldn't throw away his legacy... I couldn't let our son forget." she turned towards her son. "I meant to tell you, about your grandfather, I was just waiting for the right time." Her voice was pleading as she reached out towards the boy's direction.

The younger male backed away as tears started forming in his eyes.

"You told me he was dead. I asked you, and you told me he'd passed. We held a freaking funeral for him!" He burst out, violently wiping away his tears with a part of his jacket.

"It was for your own good." George said as he looked down at the papers with malice. "He was not a good person."

"He was my best friend! He took care of me when you two were off on expeditions and other adventures."

"HE was a monster!" his father shouted as he banged on the table and stood to his feet facing his son. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. "You didn't see him for who he really was."

"...What did he ever do for you to hate him so much. He took care of you. He took care of me. My sister. My cousin Alena. He's a freaking saint that everybody loves. His research" Fred stated as he picked up a few folders off the table, "is groundbreaking. He almost found the cure to malaria and cancer." He threw down the papers. "So why do you hate him so much?"

The malice in Fred's voice was like a knife to George's heart. His son hates him. He could feel it and see it in his eyes. A bitter laugh left him as he covered his face with the palm of his hand.

"Yeah. He's a real saint, all right. Experimenting on children. Give him a freaking medal of honor."

"George!" Marilyn shouted as she got off the sofa.

"WHAT! You wanted him to know his legacy, right? So here it is! Freddy ol' boy, you come from a family of sociopaths that intend to 'remake' the world."

George went to the glass counter and poured himself half a glass of whisky.

"...What?" Fred asked as he left his world of thoughts and questions. Disbelief and anger ran through his veins ad he slowly turned to face his dad. He was seconds away from pouncing on his dad for accusing his martyr grandfather of such a despicable act. Well, he was't a martyr anymore, but still.

"Yeah. Apparently, This world is messed up. So messed up that your ancestors have been looking for a solution. The disease of all diseases to end humanity. For good." George took a huge gulp of his cool whisky and revelled in the burning sensation as it slowly went down his digestive system.

"... That can't be, I mean, he worked with the UN, Redcross. He even served in the military to-"

"He did all that to gather info. And samples. Wherever he went, he took bits of the virus and antidote. He would come home and mix them up, try to make them stable, invincible. And that's not even the best part!"

George painfully chuckled as he took another swig of his whisky. "He needed his future generations to finish the work, so he infected his kids with the virus. Remember aunt Nelly?"

"Yeah. She died of colon cancer."

"No. She died because the antidote stopped working."

George turned to the bar for a refill. This time, he filled his cup to the brim. His wife watched in sadness as he once more gulped down a rather large mouthful.

1001 questions ran through Fred's mind, but one caught his eye as if painted in front of his eyes in neon green.

"So why did you let him take care of me?"

George sighed and put the glass down. He walked up to Fred. " Do you really think I would have let him babysit you if I knew? Hell no!" He cupped both sides of his face. "I love you. And I'm a decent enough human being to know not to do that. I hate to admit it, but my dad taught me that."

"So... what now." Fred asked.

George went back to the counter and retrieve his lonely drink. He smiled at it as he took a refined sip and swished it in his mouth, actually taking the time to taste the alcohol. After a while, he answered

"Now nothing. We'll just live out our lives peacefully, like before."

"... grandpa's a crazy old man who's trying to end the world. We have to stop him!"

George chuckled at his son's enthusiasm. Definitely has my traits, he thought.

Out of amusement, he asked,"And how do you propose we do that?"

"... I think I might have a plan."