Learning to Fly/Originals

The originals of ficlets in the "Learning to Fly" collection. 
==1989 - 1990==
===Mad===
(1989; originally posted as "His Father's Eyes"; revised by "Success" and posted here.)
"What have you done?" he shouts.
Lars Gottlieb's anger frightens even himself. He fears his head and heart may explode as he paces back and forth. He clenches and relaxes his jaw and refuses to look at his wife where she sits on the guest room bed less than a foot away. He hopes his voice doesn’t carry as far as the sitting room to which he exiled his children.
The source of his agitation sleeps in his wife's arms.
"What have you done?" he repeats more quietly, finally pausing in his motion.
"I succeeded," she says simply, shifting the bundle in her arms. "I cloned myself."
"What? Why … ?"
She shrugs. "To prove I could." Her eyes light up with pride. "Look. I also spliced in avian genes to test my techniques for cross-species gene activation." She tugs the end of the cloth free.
The child, clearly the newborn she claims it is, appears dangerously underweight and lies frighteningly still. As she pulls the blanket aside, his blood pressure jumps another ten points as he catches sight of the … thing's wings, covered with patchy natal down, flopping uncoordinatedly against its back.
He gapes like a fish. "You're mad," he breathes. "I knew you were mad, but this is beyond the pale. This … this thing is a-a monster. What were you thinking?"
"I knew it could be done and I wanted to do it."
His mouth works wordlessly for a moment. "Did you think of what sort of life we will have now? Did you think what its life will be like?" he finally manages.
She shrugs again and the … child wriggles slightly in response. "We may not have to worry long. My earlier clones lived no more than three hours."
"Three … ? You've tried before … ?!" he sputters.
"Of course. This one has already survived eight, but I have no indication it will have a normal lifespan. We will simply have to wait and watch."
His glares silently for a long moment. "So you created and brought a monster into our home! We are not ready to care for a newborn! You haven't even bothered to prepare for it!"
"I assumed it would die as the others." She hesitates and her face takes on a dreamy expression. "The change from the previous iteration is so minor, I didn't believe the outcome would be different, though it had to be ruled out. It seems the cardiovascular weakness may be sex-linked after all … "
Lars scrubs at his face. "What do we do now … ?" he mumbles, more to himself than his wife.
"We set up the guest room as a nursery and we document its growth," she answers. "There may be effects from the cloning and the spliced genes."
"You can't treat this as an experiment and this … child," he chokes out, "as a specimen!" She shrugs again and he grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her. The baby squalls weakly and Lars' lips thin at the sound. He releases her with a final shove. "I can't believe you've done this. I can't believe what you've brought into my house. If the authorities find out they will take Dietrich and Karla from us. This one, too. Is that what you want?"
"It doesn't matter," she says. "I've done what I set out to do. You thought I would never accomplish anything of note."
"You will not breathe a word of this to anyone! I will not lose my family because of your insanity!" he yells. "You will raise this little abomination as your child. If you ever attempt this again, I will have you destroyed."
"You couldn’t," she declares. "This discovery is too big for you to hide."
"Do not doubt me. I wield more influence than you know," Lars growls.
She fixes him with a baleful glare.
"Now, pretend you are a decent mother and introduce your son to our other children," he orders as he leaves the room to collect Dietrich and Karla.
On the march back to the guest room, he realizes he hadn’t asked if the child had a name.
.
The nameless child sleeps silently that night from its crib of a deep drawer and Lars’ undershirts.
Something's wrong. No amount of hissing rouses his wife from bed to check on her son. Lars relents, rises, and flicks on the light—which his wife protests groggily. The child’s skin has nearly turned blue with cold. He scoops it up and cradles it against his chest.
No fat. He’s freezing to death.
Lars kicks the bedframe and finally succeeds in waking the woman. "Take it," he demands. It’s hypothermic." He stalks from the room as his wife accepts the whimpering bundle.
In the kitchen, he takes calming breaths as he warms water to fill a hot water bottle for a makeshift incubator and to mix formula.
He returns to find his wife sitting in bed with the child balanced on her lap. Lars swears, tossing the water bottle aside, and gently lifts the baby, supporting its head and pulling its coverings more tightly around it.
He rubs small circles on the little one's back and it whimpers weakly at the pull on its wings. Lars swears again and with his free hand retrieves a sweater from the laundry hamper. He offers the bottle once he has finished swaddling the baby in the wool and the baby sucks greedily.
Once the blue fades to a healthier pink, Lars does what he can to make the the child's bed warmer and more comfortable. As it settles into contented sleep, Lars shakes his head and sighs.
When the baby's cries jar him from uneasy rest a few hours later, it occurs to him he could've let the child die and saved himself and his family much suffering.
He rushes to the bathroom to throw up.
===New Brother===
(1989; "Hatchling": One; originally posted as "Dietrich"; revised by "Fledgling".)
Please see "New Brother". 
===Toddler===
(1990; "Hatchling": Two; originally posted here as "Karla"; revised by "Fledgling".)
Please see "Toddler".
==1994 - 1995 ==
===Ad Astra===
(1994; originally posted here; revised by "The Stargazer" and posted here.)
Hermann bounces in his place between his brother and sister in the back of his parents’ car. He can’t sit still for the excitement. The discomfort of his wings being tied to his back doesn’t matter today and neither does the fact he’s wearing one of Dietrich’s oldest scratchy wool jumpers.
Tonight, for his fifth birthday, he’s going to the stars.
No neighborhood lights, no noisy dogs, just quiet darkness and the stars. The twenty minute drive to the hill west of the abbey takes forever as he drums his heels against the base of seat. His wings tremble against their bindings.
As soon as the car stops, Hermann takes off like a shot, running as fast as his skinny legs can carry him to the center of the field, while his family picks their way cautiously through the darkness.
He skids to a halt and throws his head back and stares at the sky. In this silent place, it is nearly bright as daylight to his eyes.
To him the sky is a thick carpet of lights with barely a gap between them. He sees far more stars than the rest of his family. Thousands more. So many more he can’t begin to count them. There is a whole universe only he can see.
He revels in it, forgetting everything else. 
===TAXONOMY===
1994; "Not Everyone Agrees": One; revised by "Art". 
When her husband comes to her gnashing his teeth and ranting about the latest transgression committed by her 'monster,' she shrugs and returns to her reading. If she feels difficult, she reminds him the boy is a work of art and not a 'monster.'
How can the man not see the beauty in what she's made? She knows her husband holds no poetry in his soul and no love whatsoever for the chaotic elegance of biology. He has no understanding of how genes and flesh and blood can be sculpted into beautiful forms just as the wires and plastics and sheet metal can be crafted into the robots he spends his time building.
He hisses at her to control the little beast and she laughs at him. It is so much more fun to wind up her creations and let them go their own ways. Not like her husband and his need for programs to control every aspect of behavior. He wants to build little tin soldiers. She wants to create life which is wild and uncontrolled.
So she watches the little winged one with pride, if not affection, as he scampers about with his much less interesting siblings, feathers flashing in the sunshine pouring through the house's big windows. She made him very nearly perfect. A few manipulations had not panned out and a few more need to be made, but she came oh so very close to perfection.
If only she could secure more funding and locate a new lab, she could improve on him, make a truly perfect version. Maybe if her husband saw a flawless one, he would call it beautiful, rather than 'monster.'
=== Wissendurst (revised) ===
1995 January; "Odds and Events": Two; originally posted here as part of "Dictionary of the Heart"; revision of "Wissendurst" which is posted as "Homeschooling".
/wissensdurst (German): to display curiosity, inquisitiveness; a unique desire to learn in a person, often a child, who asks a lot of questions; a feeling one gets in craving an answer to a burning question
„Why must I have a tutor?“ chokes Hermann through tears. „Why can't I go to school like Dietrich and Karla?“
Father looks down, lips thin. „You know we must do what is best for our family, Hermann. /This is what is best.“ His eyes wander left. „Sending you to school is too great a risk to us and to you.“
„Could Dietrich teach me?“
„No,“ declares Father. „Dietrich has to focus on his own studies. He has no time to teach you.“ He turns away. „Now stop your whining.“ 
Hermann balls his fists at his sides, forces down another sob.
===I'll Protect You Until My Last Breath===
(1995 April; originally posted here by puff22_2001; revised by "Hasi" and posted as "Bunny".)
Hermann hears his newest brother's laughter from across the room as he peeks in. Mother has left the baby alone—again--and Hermann wants to see. He's caught glimpses of Bastien since Mother returned from Hospital. At five-and-a-half, though, he's not at all tall enough for more than a idea of pink flesh. No one's thought to introduce Hermann to the baby yet.
Hermann's wings flutter in excitement. Father has allowed them out now that the visitors have gone and the young boy relishes the freedom. His binders are so painful but they're “a necessary part of growing up” for someone like Hermann. He's glad that Bastien won't have to deal with them.
The baby coos again and Hermann tiptoes into the nursery, closing the door almost shut behind him. The room is a sight more decorated than is his own, but Hermann's too anxious to meet his brother to think about the implications. The baby lays in the crib and Hermann can see a shock of medium-shade hair on the tiny head. His inability to see colors keeps him from knowing exactly what hue is Bastien's hair, but it looks like Hermann's own. He smiles at that as he grasps a bar of the crib.
Bastien looks over and focuses on Hermann's hand. The boy knows that it's normal for children at Bastien's age to make eye contact so he slowly moves his hand to his face. Bastien tracks the movement until he reaches Hermann's eyes. A smile lights up the baby's eyes, crinkling the healthy face.
It hits Hermann like when Karla gives him a too-strong hug. He will never see his baby brother's true eyes. He will never know what color they are. Hermann is only five-and-a-half, but can feel a sense of loss well beyond his years.
The tears well and Hermann uses his hand already at his face to scrub them away. He's becoming a “big boy” as Father says and he shouldn't cry. But then he's also “sensitive” as Mother says when she writes in her notebooks (and how he hates that). He can't help the pain that wells in his young child's heart.
Bastien laughs and babbles baby nonsense as he reaches for Hermann. His little nose crinkles as Hermann continues to cry, and then Bastien begins to make distressed sounds. Hermann gasps in fear and stop crying from the shock. He knows how angry Father gets when the baby cries. His wings twitch with anxiety.
“No, no! Don't cry, Bastien!” Hermann slips a hand through the crib bars and gently strokes Bastien's nose. He'd seen Oma do the same to Karla as they sat together on the couch, Hermann alone on a seat in the corner.
The action calms the baby, who picks up his happy noises as if nothing has transpired. Hermann sighs in relief. He doesn't understand quite why, but he wants to protect the tiny child in front of him from their parents. Father is too cold and stern for a baby, and Mother ... Mother frightens Hermann.
“I'll protect you, Bastien.” Hermann whispers through the bars before Bastien takes his hand and clasps the fingers stroking his nose. Hermann giggles and Bastien squeals in response. He scrunches his nose again, and it reminds Hermann of rabbits from videos online. Hermann likes the animal shows. If Hermann is a bird, why can't his siblings be animals, too?
“You look like a bunny! I'll call you that. But just me, OK?” Hermann smiles as the tears dry on his chubby cheeks. He pauses for a moment to think. “I guess Dietrich can call you that, too.”
Karla's return from school breaks Hermann's concentration. His sister cries in the hallway about the girls at school excluding her from hopscotch. Hermann holds the baby's tiny hand and listens to Karla sob. He frowns in sympathy, even though he and the older girl are usually at odds. Bastien begins to fuss again and Hermann quickens his soothing motions until Karla slams her bedroom door and the boys can no longer hear her emotions.
“Karla, too.” His face twists in anxiety. “But not Father or Mother. They wouldn't understand.”
Bastien just gurgles in happiness and Hermann smiles again. He may be little and weak, but he can help his little brother. He loves him so already.
Hermann stands there, holding his brother's hand, until the baby falls asleep once more. Removing his fingers with a gentle pressure, Hermann strokes Bastien's hair and leans in to blow a kiss.
“I'll protect you, Hasi.”
==1996==
===Unicorn===
Hermann Gottlieb chats with an unexpected visitor as he recovers from a serious injury.
Endnotes: PP: I'll admit it, this was fun. ALC wrote the first bit and (after a long, long pause) I ran with it. Nothing like picturing bby!Hermann loopy on strong painkillers to put a bit of a humorous flourish on an absolutely awful situation.
(Revised by "Unicorn" and posted here.)
The Ranger grabs Hermann by the jacket lapels and slams him against the wall. A sharp cracking sound comes from a bone in his left wing. "Maybe we need to beat the stupid out of you, genius. What do you think?"
Five Rangers and techs close in on Hermann. Your stomach sours as you wait for Hermann to brace himself to fight, but he only sags against the wall, the punk’s grip the only thing holding him up.
ALC: I thought the lapels were neck/chest area. This would render ‘crushing’ redundant though, ‘cause Hermann can’t feel pain inflicted upon his clothes. Imagine that though, he’s sitting in his room and the unicorn on the sweater pipes up, “Hey Hermann, I’m sorry you’re feeling lousy!”
PP: Ack. Good points. I’ve removed the weirdness. Now I want to write up the unicorn thing as part of his first day on the good painkillers. XD
ALC: “Pst, little bro!” 
Hermann forces open his bleary eyes and looks around. “Karla?” 
“No silly, down here! The jumper!”
Hermann looked down. 
Indeed, the unicorn was smiling at him. 
“I should find this weird but I really don’t.”
“Well duh, you’re a Changeling and I’m a knit unicorn.”
“Unicorns talk?” Of course they do. 
“Of course we do!” 
===Inhuman===
("5 Times Hermann Wasn't a Monster": One; revised by "Inhuman" and posted here.)
Formatting of ALC's copy is whacked so she'll wait for another version or upload from AO3.
===Sand===
(Originally posted here; revised by "Summer Holiday" and posted as "On Holiday".)
The sand feels velvety as it shifts between Hermann’s bare toes, somehow cool and warm at the same time. It tickles. He loves it.
Not as much as he loves the sunshine soaking into his feathers or the breeze ruffling his hair, pushing his wings to and fro, and tickling his skin, but he loves the sand and the waves breaking around his ankles.
He hasn’t been outside with his wings unbound in so long he can’t summon a clear memory of the last time.
The beach and the ocean stretch forever to his eyes. Mother insists it’s not really the ocean, only a bay of the Mediterranean, but he’s never seen so much water.
He raises his wings and uses their shade to peer at the tiny fish swimming in the shallow water. They appear as flashes of silver darting about. Hermann digs his toes deeper into the sand.
Hermann would love to put down roots and stay right here forever in the sun and the wind and the sand, with the sky and its little fluffy clouds, with Dietrich and Karla laughing while Mother and Bastien watch quietly.
He may not be able to swim like his older brother and sister, but they can’t feel the fine eddies of the wind, can’t pick out the container ships on the horizon.
Here, their world is small and they don’t even realize what they can’t see and feel. Hermann feels sorry for them. Just a little bit. 
===NEW CLOTHES===
(Originally posted here; revised by "Silver Lining" and posted here.)
Hermann picks at the hem of his new undershirt—the one which pins his wings tightly to his back—through his too-big, hand-me-down jumper as he lies on grass in the garden watching the clouds and swallows swirl past. The thing chafes terribly across his skinny chest and his wings ache after only a few minutes under its restraint. His mother and father insist he wear it more often now that they’ve moved into the city.
It wasn’t fair. His parents, Dietrich, and Karla don’t have to wear anything uncomfortable if they don’t want. Hermann whines and scratches, even hides the thing and claims it’s lost. No matter what, he ends up trapped inside it. If he tries to escape before a family outing or when guests come to visit and even if he simply wants to sit and read in the front rooms of the new house, his father forces it on over his head. Sometimes his wings wind up crooked or pinched and are sore for hours.
No matter how the shirt goes on, Hermann must to concentrate hard to keep his wings from moving inside it. The more they do, the more feathers are pulled out, each with a sharp prick that makes his eyes water.
Not that Hermann cries over lost feathers. Seven-year-olds don’t cry over silly things like that.
A few feathers don’t matter much when Hermann can go outside for the first time in months. Dietrich carries him and sets him down on the grass because his mangled knee still can’t support his weight.
That doesn’t matter, either, because Hermann can feel the sun on his face and a breeze riffling his hair. 
==1998 - 1999==
===Fifth One===
(1998; "5 Times Hermann Wasn't a Monster": Two; revised by "Tutor" and posted here.)
"This kid is a monster!" His tutor said in a barely restrained voice. Hermann's eyes were huge with apprehension, hands balled in tiny fists over his lap. His father was staring down at him as disapprovingly as always.
 
"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Schroeter ." Lars said, lips pursed. 
"He not only never does what I ask him, but also keeps interrupting me to correct me." She stressed the words, showing just how offended she was. 
Hermann tried to shrink in his seat and take even less space than he usually does but that didn't protect him from his father's hand, heavily clamping his shoulder. 
"Please, accept my apologies." He said, fingers digging in the boy's bony shoulder. "He's been impossible in these last months." 
"Raising four kids alone is not an easy task." The woman said gravely. "Perhaps a boarding school would fix it?"
 
Lars shook his head. "I'm afraid not. If even under my gaze he behaves like that I can hardly imagine what he'd do away from me." 
She made a noise that was mostly approving. "I'm sure you do your best, Doctor Gottlieb. And your wife's passing away is still recent, I'm certain you'll manage him." Lars nodded and his hand finally left Hermann's shoulder. "In any way, I'm not sure any respectable school would accept this little monster..." 
===Tutor=== 
(1998; "Not Everyone Agrees": Two; revised by "Tutor" and posted here.)
"This kid is a monster!" the tutor says, barely restraining her indignation. 
Lars Gottlieb glares down at Hermann, temper rising as he remembers this is the fifth tutor he has engaged in recent years for his incorrigible 'son', says, "I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Schroeter."
"He not only never does what I ask, but he keeps interrupting to correct me." 
Hermann's behavior never changes. Always he challenges those more educated, confident in his considerable intellectual gifts.
Lars digs his fingers into the boy's shoulder to keep his teeth from grinding as he forces out, "Please, accept my apologies. He's been impossible these last months."
"Raising four kids alone is not an easy task," she says gravely. "Perhaps a boarding school would fix this one?" Lars hears hope in the woman's voice. She wants rid of the troublesome boy and his defiance.
"I'm afraid not. If even under my gaze he behaves like this I can hardly imagine what he'd do away from me."
"I'm sure you do your best, Doctor Gottlieb. Your wife's passing is still recent, I'm certain you'll manage him." The tutor kindly pats Lars' hand as she passes.
"With this attitude, I'm not sure any respectable school would accept this little monster ... ," he murmurs as he releases the boy, referring to both Hermann's physical and behavioral abnormalities.
===Envy===
(1999; Originally posted here; revised by "Envy" and posted as "Special".)
Bastien’s jealousy burns as he watches his brother lounge on his belly on his bed scratching away at his schoolwork. Manny’s wings flex in the gentle breeze sneaking in through the high window. To make it worse, a sunbeam slants in and lights the feathers into fiery coppers and golds.
“Why do you have wings and I don’t? They’re so pretty!” Bastien whines as he runs a tiny hand along the feathers.
Hermann carefully sets down his pencil and looks at his younger brother. “Hasi, you don’t want wings. They’re not worth it,” he says kindly.
”But they’re pretty! They make you special!” he cries. “I’m just a boring, normal kid.”
Hermann sighs. “You should be happy you’re normal. You can have friends and play outside. You can go to school with other kids. I can’t do any of that.”
”But … .”
"Oma can’t hug me, Hasi.”
”Even though you’re so soft?” the littler boy asks as he strokes his brother’s feathers. Hermann shakes his head. “That’s bad, but I still wish I had wings like yours. Then I could be special, too.”
”You are special right now,” Hermann says. “You don’t want to be the kind of special I am.”
Even though Hermann looks sad as he talks, Bastien still thinks he would be happier with wings like his big brother’s.
===BLUEBIRD===
(1999; originally posted here, revised by "Bluebird" and posted as "Dyeing".)
“KARLA!” a ten-year-old Hermann screams as he races as best he can to the bathroom. “What did you do to me?!” His hair feels sticky and his feathers cling to each other like they’re coated in syrup as the air drags across them. He hears all three of his siblings laughing behind him, Karla loudest of all.
He staggers to a halt in front of the mirror and stares in horror at his reflection. His hair is a darker shade of gray than usual, which troubles him slightly, but the state of his wings makes him nauseous with worry. The familiar white smudges appear the same gray as his hair, as do the rest of the feathers. Worse, nearly every one looks bedraggled, barbs unzipped from each other.
“What did you do?!” Hermann wails as Karla, still laughing, steps up behind him.
“Blue is a good color on you, Manny,” she giggles. “Now you’re a little bluebird instead of a boring little brownbird.”
“You dyed my feathers?! Why?”
“Not quite. It’s only spray-on color.” She crosses her arms over her chest and smiles. “You were asleep. You made it too easy for me.”
“Father is going to be mad at you,” he declares as he fiddles with his hair and notices the dye seems to contain glitter as well.
“I doubt that. He’s going to be mad at you for letting this happen,” she replies with a smirk. Hermann’s heart sinks as he realizes his sister is right. As far as his father is concerned, any trouble involving Hermann is Hermann’s fault. Karla ducks out of the room as their father’s footsteps sound in the hallway. The man takes one look at Hermann, commands the boy to stay where he is, and stomps off mumbling under his breath. Hermann fidgets, even his wings twitching nervously.
“Use this to clean yourself up,” his father declares on returning as he hands the boy a bottle of strong liquid soap. As Hermann reads the instructions, he continues, “You mustn’t let you sister abuse you like this, Hermann. Once you have a reputation for weakness, everyone will look to exploit it. ”
“Father, Karla is twenty-five centimeters taller than I and twenty kilos heavier. I can’t fight her without hurting myself,” Hermann says, adding more quietly, “I was also asleep when she did this.”
“You need to learn to defend yourself. You won’t be able to trust anyone else to do so. Do you understand?” Hermann nods sadly. His father leaves the room calling for Karla to come help her brother.
Karla arrives and the two work together to wet both Hermann’s hair and wings and thoroughly saturate them with the soap. His wings absorb so much water it becomes a struggle to move them and he must lean forward to keep his balance. Karla wanders off, promising to return in the recommended twenty minutes to help rinse the soap out.
Hermann sulks as he sits on the edge of the bathtub drumming his heels against the cool porcelain sides. Waiting for Karla takes an eternity with nothing to do but listen to water dripping from his wings into the tub.
No apologies are requested and none are offered as the siblings finish removing the dye and soap.
Hermann spends the rest of the day alone in his room, cold and huddling under a steady parade of towels, waiting for his wings to dry. His back and shoulders ache from the weight of the wet feathers pulling on them and he struggles to focus on the work his tutor assigned. Mostly he thinks of how much he hates being small, hates his wings, and hates being alone.
Maybe he’ll never escape from those things, but someday he’ll get away from his sister and her cosmetics. That’s something to look forward to.
==2001 - 2004==
===Better===
(2001; originally posted here; revised by "Better" and posted as "Live".)
"I think yours are owl wings," the oversized library book says with Dietrich's voice.
"Why is that?" Hermann asks, idly flipping through his new visual guide to World War II planes.
"Your feathers have soft edges."
Hermann folds one of his wings over his shoulder to examine his spread primaries more closely.
"See the serrations?" Dietrich prompts as he reappears. Hermann nods as he runs a finger along a feather's edge. "Those are unique to owls and help them fly so quietly."
"Owl wings ... ," Hermann repeats softly. He raises his voice to ask, "Dietrich? Why did Mother do this?" He shuffles his wings and settles them as comfortably as possible behind his back.
"I don't know, Manny. She never explained to us why she did this to you. We'll probably never know."
"No, we probably won't and I have to live with it no matter the reason," Hermann agrees, fidgeting with his book.
"It doesn't matter why, little one," he says gently. "It is, you are, and we love you."
Hermann remains silent for a moment, wings shifting uneasily. His book falls to the floor and he drops his head to his hands. "How am I supposed to live like this?" he asks plaintively.
Dietrich presses against Hermann's side. "You're finding a way. We'll keep helping you."
Hermann leans in and Dietrich kisses his temple with a smile.
"How long do owls live?"
Dietrich's heart flutters. "It-it depends on the species," he says. "Some live only a few years, others for more than thirty, according to the book."
"I wonder what species I am."
Dietrich gives him a shake. "You're human," he declares. "You have a very long wonderful life in front of you."
"Whether I want it or not," Hermann murmurs.
Wrapping an arm under his brother's wings, Dietrich pulls the boy closer. "Don't say such things," he whispers. "It has to get better. I'll make sure it does."
Hermann nods weakly against his shoulder.
===Hard Candy===
(2004; originally posted here by CuriumKingyo; revised "Lemon" and posted here.)
Bastien always got the first pick of the bag of hard candies. Every once in a while Dietrich would bring a plastic bag filled with round and glassy sugary bits, in different colors and flavours, and he would guarantee Bastien's baby brother privileges by allowing him to pick five pieces of candy before anyone else.
The younger Gottlieb would always pick the same set of candies: three strawberry, one orange and one grape.
He enjoyed this small privilege but he was never selfish. When he noticed there were too few red candies, for exemple, he'd gladly pick two or even only one strawberry piece for himself.
After his first pick, the bag would empty without much of a pattern. Karla never wasted too much time chosing, she just took whatever chance gave her - except for the blue ones nobody actually knew what flavour was, she never ate those. Which was okay since Dietrich was particularly fond of the mysterious blue candy.
When a few bags were gone, Bastien realized one person never shared the candies with the rest of the family. Surprisingly enough it wasn't Lars. Their father was strangely addicted to the orange candies and he'd quickly finish them if given the chance. That's why Bastien always picked one in his first choice.
No, the one completely uninterested in the hard candies was his most beloved brother Hermann. Bastien knew his brother's peculiar organism couldn't handle too much sugar, but he'd seen Hermann eating sugary treats and drinking oversweetened coffee and tea, so he knew it wasn't about his metabolism as much as it was about his choices.
One day, when Dietrich held him the full bag, he went straight to Hermann's room. Cautiously, he approached his brother, poking his back right between the small, soft feathers across his shoulder blades. "Manny!" He called happily. "I brought candy!"
Hermann turned to face him, a small fond smile on his face. "Thank you Hasi, but I don't want candy."
"But it is the first pick!" The yonger brother argued. Hermann shook his head.
"It doesn't matter Hasi, I'm not particularly fond of any of them."
Bastien regarded his brother like he had grown a second head. Hermann rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. "They all taste the same to me, and they are all too sweet. I feel like my mouth gets stuffed with cotton when I eat them."
"Manny, Manny, Manny..." Bastien said with all the condescendency of a small kid. "They don't taste the same at all! You claim to be such a scientist but you probably never conduced a proper taste test!"
Hermann laughed gently, his wings shaking as he regarded Bastien's offended expression. "So, Doctor Hasi, do you think you can find the right candy for me?"
Bastien took a deep breath and his eyes shone with resolution. "Your case is really severe Mr. Manny, but I am confident we will solve it."
So he began to clear space on Hermann's desk while his brother kept reading quietly. He carefully picked one candy of each flavour and lined them over a paper sheet. With a ballpoint pen he labelled each candy, aware that Hermann wouldn't be able to pick them apart by color.
When he was done he cleared his throat, calling Hermann's attention. The winged teen looked down at the carefully crafted grid and smiled proudly at it. "Mystery blue candy?" He asked, frowning.
"Dietrich loves them but not even he knows what they're supposed to be..."
They began the tests. Hermann used the handle of a magnifying glass to break the candies since he was afraid that eating them all would get him sick. Bastien allowed it because he thought the broken pieces left over would serve as color samples for Hermann to learn to identify his favorite. Once they found which one was his favorite.
The first one was Bastien's personal favorite: strawberry. Hermann liked the fruit but found the artificial flavour was nothing like the natural one. It lacked the sour-y aftertaste Hermann liked so much. In a scale of one to ten, he wrote six beside the crumbs of red candy.
The next was cherry and it had the same problem the strawberry one presented. He wrote it down to a five and went to the following candy.
Orange wasn't quite bad but it reminded him of a cough medicine he had to take when he was younger and it brought orange's mark down to a five. Pineapple, grape and the mysterious blue candy went the same way, no one reached more than six on the Manny Candy Scale.
Bastien was mildly disappointed, so he was utterly surprised when his brother began to smile when he poped the last piece of candy into his mouth. 
"This one is quite good actually," he said, picking a few crumbs of the last candy and putting them in his mouth.
"Lemon!" Bastien exclaimed, happily sweeping the rest of the candies off the paper and into his cupped hand. He tossed the mixed bits into his mouth and frowned, shaking his head and taking a long gulp of the water Hermann kept on his nightstand. "Maybe EveryFlavour Candy isn't quite as good an idea as it seems.."
Hermann took the last bit of lemon candy and studied it against the light. It was a beautiful shade of grey, light but with some sort of character he couldn't define. He put it in his mouth and enjoyed the bittersweetness of it. "Thank you, Hasi."
"What happened to the Doctor?" Bastien asked playfully. 
They laughed and cleaned Hermann's desk and Bastien went back to the living room to put the candy bag where it belonged.
Bastien still got the first pick of the candies in the plastic bag, but if he noticed there weren't many lemon candies, he would trade one of the strawberry ones for a citric piece. Not for him, though. He liked the privilege of first choice but he was never selfish about it.
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