Mich let go of Dante’s hand when she felt the storm ease and his body cool. It’s over, she thought, fighting the urge to cry. My little boy’s going to be all right. She opened her eyes, eager to look into those of her son, to brush the hair from his small forehead . . .
She shut her eyes tight at the sight that greeted her. “Oh God . . . ”
“What?” Dr. B said, craning his neck to see around her, to see if there were any external injuries that he would be able to treat. “Oh . . . my . . . ”
Nev gaped at his son, hardly able to accept what his eyes were telling him. “Wha . . . ?”
With a deep, steeling breath, Mich opened her eyes and touched Dante’s cheek. “Dante? Is . . . is that you?”
Dante sat up slowly. His eyes were still the same emerald green they’d been that morning, and his hair was still the same jet black with a hint of red. But his features were no longer round and youthful but longer and more mature . . . the face of a teenager. “Yeah, Mom. It’s me.”
Dr. B blinked. “That has got to be the quickest . . . ”
Dante looked at Nev. “Dad?”
“Ye . . . yeah, Dan. It’s me,” Nev said shakily.
Still standing next to Nev, Brian nodded, then promptly passed out, collapsing into Nev’s arms. Nev carefully lowered him to the ground as Dr. B reentered the room, kneeling next to him.
“Brian?” Dante said, still using his new voice hesitantly. “I guess . . . it was too much for him, huh?”
Dr. B scanned the insensate Peter clone. “He’s just unconscious. He should come to in five to ten minutes.”
Dante looked down with bewildered bemusement at the fine line of fuzz on his stomach. “Maybe if I get up and run backwards I can be nine again by the time he wakes up.”
Dr. B laughed, the sound dissipating the tension in the room. “It’s an interesting thought, but I doubt it, Dante.”
Slowly Dante pulled himself onto his feet, wobbling slightly and reaching for Mich’s supportive arm. “Whoa. How long was I down?”
“S-Since this afternoon,” Mich said, still visibly shaken.
“We’ve been very worried about you, Dante,” Dr. B said.
“I know. I was worried about me, too.”
“But we’re glad to see you’re okay.”
Dante looked down, fidgeting with the drawstring of the pajama bottoms that had fit just right that morning. “Thanks.”
“Is something the matter?”
“No,” Dante said, looking up quickly.
“Are you certain? Perhaps I should scan you and be sure of that.”
Dante bit his lip. “Um . . . okay . . . ”
Dr. B came over and ran his scanner over Dante’s painfully thin form, glancing down at his tricorder with a satisfied grunt. “You appear to be a normal, healthy sixteen-year-old.”
Dante snorted. “Normal. Hunh.”
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“I AIN’T normal, Doc.”
“Uh . . . why not?”
Dante frowned at Dr. B, giving him a ‘you know perfectly well what I’m talking about’ look.
“The powers? Well, almost everyone around here has those.”
Dante lowered his head, his green eyes almost glowing. “Did everyone else get theirs from Hell?”
Dr. B looked blankly at Mich. “Well, that I don’t know.”
Dante nodded. “There you go. Anyway, sorry I’m not feelin’ all euphoric, considerin’ that this morning I was nine.”
Brian stirred with a groan, his eyes fluttering open as Nev bent down to help him up. “Oof . . . but . . . you couldn’t help that, Dante . . . ”
Dante nodded, scraping his bare toes along the carpet. “Don’t make me feel any better about it, though.”
Brian’s eyes went wide. “Oh my goodness . . . everyone’s still worried! I have to tell . . . ooh.” He tried to get up and stumbled, sitting back down heavily.
Mich stood up next to Dante, starting at the fact that she only came to his shoulder. “I don’t care, Dante. I’m just glad to have you back, darling—whether you’re nine or nineteen. It doesn’t matter.” She put her arms around him and squeezed as tightly as she dared.
Brian pushed himself up on his knees and got unsteadily to his feet. “I gotta tell everybody . . . ”
Nev reached out to steady him. “It’s okay, man. I’ll get Rin—he’ll have everybody informed in about two seconds.”
“Okay,” Brian said, slowly regaining his balance.
“I’m hungry. Got anything to eat, Mom?” Dante said.
Mich looked to the physician. “Dr. B? Is it okay for him to be up and around?”
“I believe he should take it easy for the next few days. He shouldn’t run any marathons or exert himself very much. But a short walk won’t hurt him,” Dr. B said with a smile.
“Okay. Dante, get in the shower and wash up, and I’ll make you some . . . ” Mich looked at the clock. “Dinner.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” Dante said, blushing furiously.
Brian looked at Nev, who was still staring at his newly-teenaged son with wide, staring eyes. “Nev . . . how are you . . . ?”
Nev just nodded dumbly.
Brian looked at Mich. “What does that mean?”
Mich giggled. “It means he’s in shock, Brian. Just give him a minute or two.”
“Perhaps . . . your father’s clothes might . . . ?” Dr. B said, trailing off.
“Yeah. My clothes. Sure,” Nev said, not even blinking.
Brian moved around to stand in front of Nev and peered carefully at the Nez clone.
Mich smirked. “Um, here.” She walked over to Nev and smacked him firmly on his uninjured cheek. “Nev! Snap out of it!”
Brian blinked. “Well, I suppose that’s the direct route.”
Nev shook himself out of his paralysis. “Oh, right, clothes.” He ran over to the closet and charged in, slamming the door behind him.
Mich crossed her arms and leaned back on her heels. “I see he’s back to normal.”
Brian laughed.
Dante craned his neck anxiously. “Mom? Is Dad gonna be okay?”
Mich smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, Dante. It’s just all the excitement of last night, and then all this.”
Dr. B nodded. “I think Brian and I should be getting along home. Kayla might worry.”
“Okay, guys. I can’t thank you enough for all your help,” she said, pulling them both into a hug.
“Our pleasure, Mich,” Brian said. He looked at Dante, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Dante, you come see me if you want to talk, okay?”
Dante nodded. “Thanks, Brian. For not givin’ up on me.”
Brian disengaged himself from Mich and pulled Dante into a powerful embrace. He knew that it wasn’t going to be easy for Dante to adjust, but that he’d be okay as long as Mich and Nev were with him. “I’d never have given up on you, Dante.”
~*~
The hallway was dark and quiet, Dante’s footfalls silent on the thick carpet. He nervously rubbed his palms on the legs of his borrowed pajamas—tomorrow Mich was going to take him to Trotondown to get a whole new wardrobe. He reached the door at the end of the hall and peeked into his parents’ bedroom, his heart jumping nervously as he sought their sleeping forms.
He knew the whole ordeal with Peter had been nothing more than manipulation, that Peter hadn’t even touched his parents, but he’d still awakened from a deep sleep sweating and once again feeling a surge of panic. He had to make sure . . . make sure that it was just a dream after all.
It was. Mich was there, curled up on her stomach, Nev snuggled up against her back. Dante watched them for some time, just letting the relief wash over him. They weren’t dead. They were right there, safe and sound, and would remain that way as long as he had a say in it.
“Dante?” Mich said, her voice muffled with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” Dante murmured. “Just checkin’.” He ran his fingers along the edge of the door. “Hey Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Would you . . . mind if I slept here tonight?” he asked, his voice once again echoing the nine year-old he’d recently been.
Mich patted the bed next to her. “Come on.” Dante grabbed the brightly colored afghan from the armchair and curled up next to Mich, who rolled back onto her side, pulling him into her arms. Behind her Nev moaned, shifting slightly as his arm slipped down to rub Dante’s arm.
“I love you, Dante,” Mich whispered. “You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.” She giggled as Nev ahemed softly in her ear. “Okay, one of the most wonderful things.”
“Thanks Mom,” he said, his eyelids growing heavy with the warmth of his parents’ embraces. “I love you guys too.”
