"Big Brother? Do we have names? Like the outside?" my baby brother, his tiny face turned towards me, asked me. Names, which sometimes managed to permeate the cavernous walls of our father's stomach, is something I don't like to think about. I was never given a name. Neither was my little brother. Nor were any of the sisters that share our prison.

"Why do you care?" I ask him. I don't have a real answer for him.

"I was just thinking. If the world outside has names, why can't we have names?" He nestled into the curve of abdomen. Damn, I couldn't turn over and wait for him to fall asleep and forget about this conversation now.

"We have names. We just can't remember them. How long has this been bothering you?" What a bad thing to end on. I don't want this to end up being a sob-fest.

"A little while now. Can we get names?" He wasn't going to let this be until he got an answer.

"Yes," maybe giving him an answer will shut him up for a bit. "I am," I thought for a moment, "Poseidon. You can be Hades."

"No fair! No fair! I want to be Poseidon, you can Hades!" he whines.

I sigh. "Okay, you can be Poseidon. I'll be Hades."

"What about the girls?" I groan.

"What about us?" the youngest one asks, taking a sudden interest in our conversation.

"Your names, our littlest brother wants to give us names," I tell her.

"I'll be Rhea," she stated. I didn't really like the name, but it would be just easier to let her be than try arguing with her.

"No you can't be! That's the woman on the outside's name," Poseidon cries out. "How about Hera?" he seems so eager with this naming business.

"I like it," our littlest sister, now dubbed Hera, stated.

"And the oldest can be called Hestia, and the last one Demeter," Poseidon said, before snuggling closer to me. The next few days are going to be long.

oO0Oo

Modern Day, approximately 5,000 years later.

I see the disappointment in my little brother's eyes. I bet he had another child, outside the oath, and the mother didn't let him name the baby. That makes sense.