A Steel Ribbon free porn video

I originally started writing this story as another fan fiction that was set in the Whateley Universe, but partly into it, I was invited the join the official Whateley canon authors. Though I have written several previous Whateley stories, this is the first one that has been converted to and recognized as part of the official canon. ------------------ A Steel Ribbon By Morpheus *Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, July 4th, 2007* The Fourth of July had always been my favorite holiday, even more than Christmas and Thanksgiving combined. It meant good weather, a parade in the morning, watching the kids play in the back yard while I manned the grill, and then sitting back to watch the fireworks while enjoying a beer and a good cigar. And above all, the Fourth of July meant spending the day with my family. Today was the Fourth of July, the American Independence Day, and my favorite holiday of the year, but today there had been none of that. There had been no parade this morning, no picnic lunch, and no grill to flip burgers on. Tonight, there would be no fireworks, beer, or cigars. And worst of all, I wouldn't be spending the day with my family. Instead, the only company I had was the steady beep of the heart monitor next to my bed. This year, I was spending the Fourth of July alone, stuck in my hospital bed and waiting to die. It was cancer, which had spread through my entire body. Maybe it was too much of the beer, burgers, and cigars, or maybe it was just life in general. What I did know was that when the first symptoms had appeared, I'd ignored them and had been too stubborn to go to the doctor. By the time I did get checked out, it had been far too late. I chuckled weakly at the irony that 'Big Al' Morgan would die like this, wasting away to nothing. I was six foot 3 and pretty husky, or at least I had been until the cancer got hold of me. Now I was barely a buck fifty...a hundred and fifty pounds. My breathing was pretty ragged, my entire body hurt like hell, and I felt so damn tired that I couldn't even get up to go take a piss anymore. The doctors said I probably had a few weeks left at most. Since I had nothing else to do, I just lay there with my eyes closed, focusing on breathing, which had become something of a task lately. My thoughts drifted back to other Fourth of July's, ones from better days. I remembered when my wife Meg had still been alive and our kids had still been kids. The kids had been so young and innocent back then, and I wished that they'd been able to stay that way. Then I heard a noise and opened my eyes again to see the nurse had come in to check on me. I was relieved to see that it was Janet instead of that guy nurse Rob. Rob was nice and seemed pretty competent, but call me old fashioned, I still thought only women should be nurses. "How are you doing Mister Morgan?" Janet asked me pleasantly. "About how you'd expect," I grumbled. Then I asked her, "Why aren't you out with your family? You shouldn't be stuck here with a grumpy old bastard like me..." "I'd hardly call you old," Janet responded with a somewhat forced smile. "You're only a couple years older than me." "I turn fifty next month," I responded grimly, knowing full well that I'd probably never see that birthday. "And I feel older." Janet gave me a sympathetic look that she quickly tried to cover up. Then she changed the subject and said, "You're a mechanic..." I nodded weakly at that from my bed before responding, "Over thirty years." "Well, I have a problem with my car," she told me, "and I was wondering what you thought." She was obviously trying to keep my mind occupied more than anything else, but I appreciated the effort. It was good to feel useful. After she was done telling me about her car's symptoms, I told her, "Sounds like the clutch..." Just then there was a knock on the door and a man's voice said, "I hope we're not interrupting anything." I looked up and saw my son Rich coming into the hospital room, giving me a sad look as he did so. He was short and skinny, taking after his mother more than he ever had me, both in physique and temperament. He'd just graduated from college with a degree in computer science, while I'd never even finished high school and could barely figure out how to turn a computer on. A moment later, I realized that Rich wasn't alone as the rest of my family trailed into the room behind him. My daughter Melanie was the next to enter, followed by her husband Mark and their two daughters, Kimberly and Kaylie. In spite of being exhausted and hurting like hell, I still smiled at the sight. "Grandpa," seven year old Kimberly exclaimed as she rushed over to my bed. She was wearing a cute little frilly dress, the kind her mother used to love wearing back when she was that age. In fact, it seemed that every little girl went through that princess stage and wanted to dress like that. "See my new dress?" "Very nice," I told her with a forced smile. "Hey Grandpa," Kaylie said, giving me a really worried look and keeping her distance, as though afraid she might catch my cancer. Kaylie was twelve and had recently gotten out of the whole 'princess' thing and was instead wearing a lot of black. She even had a pin on her shirt that looked like a skull with a pink bow on it. I couldn't help but remembering the time her mother had come home with a purple mohawk and had nearly given me a heart attack. It seemed that within just a few years, Melanie would be getting a taste of her own medicine. "Hey Dad," Melanie greeted me with a pained look on her face. "How are you feeling today?" Janet hurried out of the room, giving me a bit of privacy with my family. I grimaced in pain, then answered, "I'll feel better if you brought me a beer..." "I heard that," Janet called from outside the door. "Sorry Dad," Rich told me. I grumbled at that, muttering, "I'm dying. What the hell could one damn beer hurt?" Then I glanced to my granddaughters and added, "Pardon my French." "That doesn't sound like French to me," Kaylie responded with a smirk. "We really missed you at the parade," Melanie told me with a forced smile. "It just wasn't the same without you." "It was great," Kimberly exclaimed excitedly. "We got to see the marching band, and the princesses, and some super heroes, and another princess..." Kaylie snorted. "It was okay..." Melanie chuckled at that and told me, "Don't let her fool you. She was just as into it as Kimberly was." Kaylie just glared at her mother. "The MCO was there too," Rich said with a clear note of disdain in his voice. "They had some power armor in the parade, doing some of their usual propaganda to convince everyone that they're here to protect us from mutants." I scowled but bit my tongue and didn't say anything, at least not this time. Rich had a good heart, but he was a little too liberal in his beliefs on mutant rights. He honestly thought that mutants were all innocent victims and that the only reason the MCO existed was to persecute them. I knew better. I'd seen first-hand just how dangerous mutants could be and the kind of havoc they could unleash, even by accident. We'd argued about this more than a few times, but I wasn't in the mood for arguing right now. I was just too damn tired for it. "Rich," Melanie told her brother, giving him a warning look. "Not now." Rich looked at me and then gave a faint nod, apparently deciding that he didn't want to argue right now either. Mark just stood back, looking a little awkward and uncertain. I'd given the guy a hard time when he'd first started dating Melanie, even doing the whole 'polish the shotgun' thing on him before their first date. However I had to admit that he'd done right by my daughter and granddaughters. "Grandpa," Kimberly said, staring at me with a curious expression. "When are you gonna get better?" "As soon as I can," I told her with a forced smile. Having my family come to visit was the one thing that I'd been looking forward to and it was the bright spot in my entire day. However the conversation was extremely awkward as everyone kept dancing around the subject of my situation. They seemed to think that any mention of the C word...Cancer, would shock me horribly or something. I thought it was kind of foolish since there was denying the truth. I was dying and there was nothing to be done for it. Unfortunately talking this much was using up what little energy I had so Janet came in after awhile and told everyone that they'd have to leave soon. That got the whole round of goodbyes started, which was damn near as awkward as the conversation itself. Tears started to fill their eyes, and it was obvious that they thought this could be the last time they saw me. And honestly, it might very well be. I was choked up as well, thinking about everything and everyone I was leaving behind. I didn't want to die. I wasn't ready to go. But I didn't want to worry my family any more than I already was, so I did my best to show a strong face. I refused to let them see me cry like some kind of baby, even now. That wasn't how I wanted them to remember me. Still, there were things that had to be said, things I had to say while I still could. "Rich," I said, my voice weak and shaky. It was taking almost everything I had to talk right now. "Yeah, Dad," he said as he came over and took my hand in his. I stared up at my son and gave him a weak smile before saying, "I'm proud of you. I'm proud of the man you've become..." I don't remember if I'd ever told him that before, but I wanted to make sure he knew. I looked at Melanie and added, "I'm proud of both of you..." "Dad," Melanie started, tears running down her cheeks. Then I turned my attention to my son-in-law Mark and said, "You'd better keep taking good care of these girls." "Yes, sir," he responded with a nod of his head. "If you don't," I warned him, barely able to speak at this point, "I'll have to climb out of this bed and kick your ass." Kaylie giggled at that and I quietly added, "Pardon my French." Melanie smiled faintly in response. "I'll try and stop by again tomorrow," Melanie told me with a sad smile. She took my hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. After that, everyone started to leave the room, though Kimberly rushed back to my side. Then she pulled a brightly colored ribbon out of her hair, where it had been tied, and put it in my hand with a big grin. "For good luck Grandpa," she told me with an innocent look before she half skipped out of the room after her parents, calling out, "I hope you feel better soon." I held the ribbon in my hand and smiled faintly. It was nice and smooth, maybe even silk, though I doubted Melanie would have given her a silk ribbon. Still, it had looked cute in her hair and I felt touched that she gave it to me. Once everyone was gone, I was left alone in the room with only the steady beep of the heart monitor for company. I closed my eyes to rest, and in moments I drifted off to sleep, absently wondering if this would be the last time. My dreams were strangely vivid, just like they'd been ever since the doctor had begun giving me the medication. I dreamed of sweet little Kimberly dancing around in her little dress, calling out, "Grandpa, watch what I can do..." Then in my dream, Melanie joined her, looking exactly like she had back when she'd been a little girl of that age. And finally, they were joined by a third little girl who also danced and spun, giving a celebration of youthful innocence. I awoke to a sudden noise, which in my hazy state, took me a long time to identify. Boom. Boom. Boom. It came again and again. Finally, I wakened enough to identify the sound. Fireworks. I looked towards the window, which was covered in closed blinds, leaving me to imagine what they looked like. I was so distracted by the sound of the fireworks that it took me a full minute to realize that I wasn't alone. There was someone in the room with me, though it was dark enough that I couldn't make the person out very well. "You're awake," a woman's voice said, right before she turned on the light. My visitor was tall for a woman, with shoulder length black hair and dark eyes. She wore a costume that was green and black, with a stylized skull on her chest. There were multiple belts and harnesses, each holding pouches and odd looking metal devices. And when she opened her mouth, I could see that all of her teeth were sharp and fearsome looking. Of course I knew who my visitor was. Anyone in the area would have recognized Lady Havoc, one of the most notorious and lethal super villains in the state. She was a mad scientist whose creations had caused untold property damage, and more importantly, had cost dozens of lives. The very sight of her was more than enough to send most people running for their lives, but that wasn't an option for me. She looked exactly the same as the last time I'd seen her, except for the fact that she'd been wearing an orange jumpsuit at the time. Eight years ago, I'd given the tip that helped the authorities find and arrest her, then I testified against her during her trial. It hadn't been easy. In fact, it had been the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life, but it had also been necessary. Most people would have been both shocked and terrified at finding such a notorious super villain standing at the foot of their bed, but not me. I'd been expecting her. I stared at her for several long seconds, then then whispered, "Hey, Pumpkin." She gave me a sad and gentle smile that most people would never imagine her capable of, then responded, "Hello Daddy." In spite of myself, I actually teared up at the sight of my daughter Rachael, who I hadn't seen in years. Rachael was my middle child, just two years younger than Melanie, and at one time, she'd been a total 'Daddy's girl'. However that had been a very long time ago. While growing up, Rachael had been a sweet and outgoing girl, until the day she manifested as a mutant. I remember getting up one morning to find that she'd dismantled the toaster, the coffee machine, and several other things in the house, and had built some weird contraption that would actually cook eggs, bacon, and toast all at once. It had been amazing, even if it did spit out sparks every few minutes. At first, I'd been stunned and confused by her sudden ability to invent things, and admittedly, I'd even been impressed. After all, I spent my entire life working on cars, so when I saw my daughter grabbing my tool box and beginning to build things, I'd been filled with an odd sort of pride. I'd felt like she was following in my footsteps, even if she was doing things I could only imagine. But then we realized that there was something wrong with her. Whenever she started building something, she got lost in a trance and would simply go and take whatever materials she needed for it, even if they belonged to someone else. This sudden kleptomania was disturbing, but not nearly as much as the 'episodes'. Whenever she got angry or frustrated, she'd have an episode where she'd throw a tantrum, destroying anything she could get her hands on. The first time, it was our living room, then all the dishes in the kitchen. We got her counselling and medication, but it did no good. It turned out she had a condition called Diedricks Syndrome, which sometimes affected mutants like her. There was no cure and no real treatment. Rachael grew angry and frustrated over her situation, but that only made her episodes occur more and more frequently. It was a downward spiral, and when she was nineteen, she had a particularly bad episode that ended with nine people dead. After this, she was officially declared a super villain and had continued on that path ever since. Watching Rachael go through all this had been a nightmare for our family, though we tried to protect Rich from the worst of it since he was the youngest. It had been hard on all of us, especially Meg who felt guilty over all the deaths, as though she herself was somehow to blame for Rachael's actions. Shortly after Rachael became Lady Havoc, Meg seemed to just give up on life and died. The doctors said it was a heart attack, but I knew it was more of a broken heart. I loved my daughter, but I couldn't stand back while she murdered innocent people. Because of that, I'd helped the authorities find her, hoping that she'd be able to get the help she so desperately needed. Unfortunately she'd escaped from prison a short time after and I hadn't seen her since...until now. "I saw Richie and Mel were here," Rachael said awkwardly, looking more than a little self-conscious. Then she asked, "How are they doing? How are Mel's kids?" "They're doing all right," I said quietly. "Rich just graduated from college..." "I heard that," Rachael told me with a sad smile. "I miss you Daddy. I miss all of you." Then she paused to stare at me for several long seconds before saying, "You turned me in. You told them where I was and testified against me..." For a moment, I wondered if this visit was so that she could get revenge on me for betraying her, while she still could. However she looked sad rather than angry, and even after everything she'd done, I couldn't imagine Rachael intentionally hurting me. "I'm sorry I had to," I told her quietly, my throat feeling dry and sore. I really wished I had a beer to wet it. "It's okay," Rachael responded with a faint smile. "I understand. I know you just did what you had to, and I know it wasn't easy for you. That's why I've kept my distance since. I didn't want to put you in that position again." "It's good to see you again," I told her honestly, no longer holding back the tears. Obviously being sick was messing me up because normally I'd never cry, or at least that was what I told myself. Then, since I didn't know what else to say to the daughter I hadn't seen in years, I weakly asked, "So, what have you been up to?" She gave me a faint look of amusement before responding, "Oh, the usual. Planning to take over the world." At my look of surprise, she actually chuckled. "Actually, I'm not interested in taking over the world or anything like that. All I really want is to make things and be left alone." "They won't leave you alone," I pointed out quietly, thinking of all the deaths she'd caused over the years. "They can't." "I know," Rachael responded with a sigh. Then she went to the window and peeked out the blinds, saying, "They'll kill me if they ever catch me. Or just as bad, lock me up so I can't ever build anything again." After several long seconds, she turned to look at me again, adding, "Building things...it's all I have. If I couldn't build all these things in my head..." I nodded as though I understood, though the truth was, I didn't understand. My daughter was driven by things I could never understand and they'd turned her from the sweet and innocent girl who used to pester me for a piggy back ride into the monster who'd murdered dozens. I desperately wished that she'd never become a mutant, that she could have lived a normal life like her brother and sister. "I wish things could have been different," Rachael said, echoing my own thoughts. "If wishes were horses," I started weakly. "Then we'd all be wearing hip waders," she finished for me with a chuckle. I smiled faintly, wondering if I'd used that line a few too many times while she'd been growing up. "So," I asked her with a grimace of pain, "do you think you could grant my last request and get me a beer? It's been too damn long since I've had anything to drink but water..." "Isn't that against hospital rules?" Rachael asked me with a look of mock innocence. She really couldn't pull it off though, especially with all those sharp teeth that made even the most innocent of smiles look threatening. "Damn it," I groaned. "Not you too..." Rachael just gave me a scary grin, though I was pretty sure it wasn't meant to be menacing. In fact, she actually looked excited. "Daddy, you can forget about a last request. I'm not here to say goodbye. I'm here because I found a way to save you." "What?" I gasped, sure that I must have heard wrong. The cancer had spread through my entire body and the doctors had said that it was too late for chemo or anything else to do any good. "I made a cure," Rachael told me, removing her gloves and taking my hands in hers. "I don't want to lose you, Daddy." For several long seconds, I just stared at Rachael, feeling dazed and hopeful. Then I gulped and asked, "You made a cure for cancer?" "I'm a devisor," she reminded me smugly. "I can invent just about anything I put my mind to." Then she hesitated a moment before admitting, "But this one was custom made for you, so it wouldn't work for anyone outside our immediate family." I licked my lips, which felt even drier than before. At that moment, I really could have used a beer, or hell, even that crappy wine that Meg used to drink. My eyes remained locked on Rachael, knowing that this was too good to be true. I had no doubt that if Rachael said she could cure my cancer, then she could do exactly that. From what I knew of how her power works, once she put her mind to it, she really could make just about anything. However I also knew Rachael well enough to know that nothing she made ever worked quite the way she'd intended. There was always something wrong with it, some unexpected cost or side effect. Always. A few years back, Rachael had run into some super hero who'd busted her chops and knocked out half her teeth. She'd made something to grow her teeth back, and it had worked...sort of. Her teeth came back as those scary looking shark teeth she now had, and from what I understood, she kept shedding those teeth and growing replacements, just like a shark. Rachael could cure my cancer, but there would be a cost. I had absolutely no idea what it could be, but there was a chance that the cure would end up being even worse than the disease. I gulped, shaking as I imagined the worst that could happen, and it wasn't pretty. However the truth was, I didn't have much other choice. I was literally on my death bed so things couldn't get much worse. "All right," I said quietly, letting out a tired sigh. "Let's give it a go." Rachael nodded at that, giving me a gentle and reassuring smile, which didn't show any teeth. Then she reached into one of the pouches on her belt and pulled out a transparent vial of golden liquid, which she slipped into an odd looking device that looked a little like some kind of snub nosed laser gun. "I'm not going to lie," she told me with a serious look. "This is going to do more than sting. In fact, this is probably going to be the worst fucking pain you've ever felt." "Watch your language," I told her with a frown. Rachael just chuckled at that, then reminded me, "Swearing is the least of my sins." I scowled in annoyance, knowing she was right, but I still didn't like it. In spite of everything she'd done, a part of me still thought of her as the little girl she used to be. Even now, I couldn't let that go completely. "This will destroy all the cancer cells in your body," Rachael explained in a professional manner as she held up the odd looking gun she'd put the vial into. "Essentially, this will consume the cancer cells, then transfer the cellular energy to your healthy cells in order to regenerate your body and restore you to full health." She paused to look at me, smiling faintly and adding, "It's going to replace the bad parts, flush your oil and transmission, then give you a full tune up." "Gotcha," I said, understanding the second explanation a little better than the first. A few seconds later, Rachael put the odd gun to my arm and pulled the trigger. I would have expected to feel a needle or something, but there was absolutely nothing except for a strange warmth that started to spread through my arm. It quickly spread over my entire body and suddenly I was feeling way too warm, as though someone had turned the heater up on a hot day and had then thrown a couple blankets on top of me for good measure. "How are you feeling?" Rachael asked me with a gentle smile and a faintly worried look. I was about to respond, when suddenly it felt as though I was on fire. A scream of pain tore out of my throat before I'd even realized it, making Rachael jump back. My body had already been hurting like hell, but this took it all to another level. She'd told me it would hurt, but I hadn't expected anything like this. For a moment, I wondered if she'd made some kind of mistake and gave me a shot of acid instead, but then I was too distracted to think of such things anymore. "It's okay, Daddy," Rachael promised me with a pained look on her face. "You'll be better soon..." Just then the door flung open and the night nurse burst into the room, only to stop and stare at Rachael. A moment later, she was screaming as well, then running back out as fast as she could. Of course that was probably how most people would react to the sight of Lady Havoc. "Damn," Rachael exclaimed with a look of annoyance. Then she gave me a sad smile and, "Sorry, but I have to go. I don't think it would be a good idea for me to stick around, not for you or anyone else in the hospital." With that Rachael touched a strange device on her belt and suddenly there was a loud 'boom' sound, right before a large hole appeared in the wall right where the window had been. In spite of the 'boom', there hadn't been any explosion, nor was there any debris. There was just suddenly a hole. My daughter paused long enough to give me one more long look, flashing me what was probably intended to be a reassuring smile, but which wasn't because of her teeth, then stepped through the hole and vanished. Once Rachael was gone, I closed my eyes and tried to deal with the pain that burned through every fiber of my body. I would have screamed again if I'd still been capable of it, but as it was, I wasn't able to do anything, not even stay awake. -------------------- It was the Fourth of July, the best day of the whole damn year. The air was filled with the delicious smell of sizzling burgers and the lighthearted sounds of little girls squealing in glee. I grinned as I looked up from the grill and surveyed the back yard that was my kingdom, feeling like I truly was the king of my castle. If there was such a thing as Heaven, this was definitely it. Meg came waddling towards me, her stomach bulging out from the baby that was due to be born within the next two months. This was our third child, and after having two girls, I was really hoping it was a boy. I grinned every time I imagined taking him under my wing and teaching him to be a man, teaching him how to change the oil in the car and giving him advice on girls. Of course I wouldn't trade Melanie or Rachael for anything, so even if I had a third girl, I knew I'd be happy. "There you are," Meg said with a smile, absently brushing her long black hair back out of her face. Then she handed me a beer and said, "Don't forget to put the chicken breasts on. You know Lisa doesn't eat beef." "Doesn't eat beef," I muttered with an exaggerated scowl of disapproval. "That's un-American." "That's okay dear," Meg told me a twinkle in her eye and a smile that showed she was humoring me. "But she is my best friend so we should respect her foreign customs." "At least it isn't tofu," I said, pronouncing 'tofu' as though it was a profanity. I popped open my beer and took a big swig, then absently scratched at my beard. It was pretty hot out today, so my beard was keeping me more than a little warm. Still, I wasn't about to shave it off, no matter how many times Meg threatened to do it for me while I was asleep. While I flipped the burgers, I looked out over my domain again, smiling proudly as I watched my daughters run around the yard with some friends. Mel and Rachael were both wearing frilly dresses, having dressed up nice for the parade this morning. Meg always made sure they dressed up for special events, like parades and church. And though I sometimes teased them about being so girlie, I couldn't help but smiling whenever I did. They looked like they were having so much fun. Then my old buddy Russ came wandering over to me, checking over my work to make sure I wasn't burning the meat. I didn't take it personally though since I did the same thing whenever I was at his house for some backyard grilling. "Looking good," he finally said. "Yup," I agreed. We stood there in silence for about a minute, just staring at the burgers and the yard before he finally said, "So, I hear you've finished restoring your mustang..." "Yup," I agreed again. Then I grinned, thinking about the old car I'd been working on as a pet project. "I finally got it purring like a kitten." Russ nodded at that, then chuckled. "Pity the paint job doesn't match the engine." Since Russ ran a body shop, I could see he was leading up to something. It took another half minute before he acted as though he'd suddenly come up with the idea and said, "Hey, I've got an idea. You help me get my truck up and running again and I'll get you a decent paint job." I scratched my beard while I considered his offer. Russ just stood there, absently polishing his Humanity First pin and waiting for an answer. Without saying a word, I finally nodded agreement, then held out my hand to shake on it. After this, we started putting the food on the picnic table so we could sit down to eat. The kids were still playing, with Melanie and Rachael doing some kind of tug of war thing with a long strand of ribbon. Of course being two years older and a lot bigger, Melanie won. "It's okay, Pumpkin," I told Rachael when she came running to me. I picked her up and carried her to the picnic table saying, "We're having cake for dessert, and then we'll watch some fireworks." I smiled proudly as I looked over the gathering of friends and family, knowing that life couldn't get any better. Suddenly the backyard and everything else was torn away from me and I found myself in a world of pain and confusion. Every fiber of my body screamed in agony, and when I opened my eyes, all I saw was a bright light that blinded me. My thoughts swirled in fear and confusion until I remembered I was in the hospital...that I was dying. "Rachael," I whispered, grabbing onto the memory that she'd come to see me. Had that just been a dream? One last daydream before I died? "He's burning up," a voice exclaimed. "Get me more ice..." The bright like was broken by the face of an unfamiliar woman bending over me. She was a black woman with short, tightly cropped hair. She reached down and touched my face, looking right into my eyes and saying something that I couldn't quite make out. Everything was blurring again and I slipped back into the darkness. I was home, in the living room of the house where I'd lived with the girls while they were growing up. A part of me knew that this was a dream, but an even larger part accepted it as reality. All that part felt was a strong sense of deja-vu as I looked around, seeing the dismantled TV in the middle of the floor while my prize stereo system was in pieces next to it. Without even having to look, I knew that Rachael was in the garage, putting together some kind of weird gizmo. "She's a MUTANT," Russ yelled at me furiously. "Your daughter is a damn mutant... She's a threat..." "She's my DAUGHTER," I yelled back just as angrily. "Don't you dare say a bad word about her." Russ glared at me, spitting out, "You call yourself a member of Humanity First when you have that THING living in your house?" Without thinking about it, I punched Russ as hard as I could, sending my friend of twenty years flying back. He yelled out, holding his nose which was gushing blood and was obviously broken. I snarled and took several steps towards him, glaring down at him the entire time. "Here," I told him, taking my Humanity First pin off my jacket and throwing it at him. "Rachael is my daughter and I'll be damned if I let you or anyone else lay a finger on her. If you think I'm gonna let you run her out of town, you've got another thing coming." "I never thought that YOU were a damn mutant lover," Russ exclaimed, getting back to his feet and glaring at me. "Whatever happened to protecting your family from those freaks?" Russ punched me, but I took his hit then gave him a couple of my own, smashing him in the face and knocking out one of his teeth and then hitting him in the gut and making him bend over in pain. I was pissed and was damn well ready to kick his ass from wall to wall, and the only reason I didn't was because my kids were in the house and I didn't want them to see that. I didn't want them to see me beating the living shit out of their 'Uncle Russ'. "I am protecting my family," I told Russ grimly, looking for the slightest excuse to really kick his ass good. "So if you or anyone else is thinking of coming after them or causing Rachael trouble, I'd think again. You see, I know you and some of the boys have gotten too rough in the past, and I know which closets have skeletons in them." Russ' eyes went wide in realization, and he knew that if I opened my mouth about everything I knew, he and a couple of the other guys could be facing jail time. Or worse, if the wrong mutant heard about it, they and their own families could be in deep shit. "Fuck you," Russ spat out as he started for the door. "Fuck you and your gene tainted family." As my best friend of twenty years walked out the door, our friendship ended for good, I felt a knot of anger and frustration. Russ had been like a brother to me, but when it came to choosing between him and my daughter, there was no choice. Rachael might be a mutant, but she was still my daughter and I was going to do everything I could to protect her. -------------------- *Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, July 8th, 2007* When I came to, it was with a fuzzy head and a lot of confusion. I vaguely remembered dreams...lots of really vivid dreams. I also remembered periods of waking up to pain and people I didn't know, though those times hadn't lasted long before I'd lose it again. However this time was different. This time, there was no pain at all, not even the constant pain that I'd felt from being sick. I was in some kind of hospital room, though it obviously wasn't the one that I'd been in before. In fact, it was different enough that I didn't think it even fit in the same hospital, which made me wonder where I was. "Damn," I muttered, looking at the heart monitor and other equipment that was set up beside my bed. "This is familiar." "Good," a woman's voice said. "You're awake." The woman came over and I got a look at her, seeing that she was a slender black woman with really short hair. I guessed that she was probably in her late thirties or early forties, but you couldn't always tell anymore, what with all the makeup and plastic surgery that was out there. "You a nurse?" I asked her, noticing that she was wearing some kind of hospital scrubs. "No," she answered, looking vaguely annoyed. "I'm Doctor Franklin." I grunted at that, realizing that I'd just put my foot in my mouth and not wanting to do it again. I looked around the room again, then asked, "Where am I?" "Mister Morgan," she said with a faint smile that was more professional than friendly. "You've been moved to a special clinic." A moment later, she started giving me a quick examination, taking my blood pressure, temperature, and asking me how I felt. Considering everything, I was feeling pretty damn good. I didn't feel any aches or pains at all, and for the first time in quite awhile, I actually felt like I had some energy. "So, Doc," I started once she was finished with her examination, "can I go take a piss?" She hesitated a moment before nodding agreement. "If you think you can handle it." She undid some of the sensors and things from my arm so I could get up. I hesitated a bit as I slowly climbed out of bed, feeling a bit wobbly but also excited. I hadn't been able to climb out of bed under my own power for a couple weeks, so even something as basic as going to take a piss by myself was a huge improvement. I probably grinned like an idiot as I slowly made my way to the bathroom door, realizing that Rachael had done it. I didn't know for sure if she'd actually cured me, but I sure as hell felt better. I noticed that Dr. Franklin was watching me, and I was pretty sure that after being as sick as I was, it wasn't because she thought I had a good butt, even if I was wearing a hospital gown with my backside hanging out. She was probably surprised that I was able to move around so well after all I'd been through. The thought made me chuckle faintly, thinking that we Morgans had never gone down easily, a fact that numerous heroes had found out the hard way while chasing after Rachael. The bathroom was about what I'd expect from a hospital, plain and sterile with lots of space for a wheelchair and handles to help you move yourself around. I just stood up in front of the crapper, used the wall to help me keep my balance, then took a nice long piss. Something so simple had never felt so good. Then once I was done, I went to wash my hands in the sink, catching my reflection in the mirror as I did so. "Shit," I muttered as I looked myself over. I looked pretty damn scrawny. I knew I'd lost a lot of weight from being sick, but I hadn't realized it was quite that bad. Then I noticed my hair, which caught me by surprise. The last time I'd looked in the mirror, my hair had been thinning and had mostly turned gray, but now it was pure white. I figured all the stress and medications could have done that...or Rachael's cure. That wouldn't really be that bad a side effect, especially since my hair didn't look nearly as thin as it had before either. In fact I looked like I almost had a full head of hair. "Cancer cure and Rogaine combined," I said with a chuckle. "Not bad. Too bad she can't patent that stuff. She'd make a fortune." After a few seconds of looking over my hair, I ran a hand over my jaw, surprised at just how soft and smooth it was. I used to have a nice beard that I'd been rather proud of, but after I got sick, the hair started falling out, leaving it pretty patchy looking. I'd ended up shaving the whole thing off because of it. However even if a nurse had given me a shave while I was still out of it, I should have had some stubble. I hadn't been this smooth since I was teenager. It had been awhile since I'd dared to look into the mirror, and the last time I had, I'd looked like crap. My cheeks and eyes had been a bit sunken and I looked a good ten years older than I actually was. However now that almost seemed to be reversed. I looked much better, even younger than my actual age. Rachael had said she was going to improve my overall health, and I could actually see the results. When I left the bathroom a minute later, I was startled to realize that Dr. Franklin was the same height as me, which meant that she was pretty damn tall for a woman. She was giving me an odd look, though she was obviously trying to keep her expression all professional. "There are some things about your situation that I need to discuss with you," she told me, gesturing for me to have a seat in a chair rather than going back to bed. "But someone else wanted to have a talk with you as soon as you were awake. I've already contacted him while you were busy, so he should be here any minute." A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door, then it opened up and a man came into the room. The first thing that I noticed was that he was huge, a good six inches taller than me. The newcomer had dark hair and was ripped with muscle, which was pretty obvious since he was wearing a red and white spandex costume that covered his entire body from the neck down. He even had a red cape. "Pinnacle," I said, recognizing the local super hero. "You know who I am," he responded with a faint smile, as if pleased by the recognition. I snorted at that. "We've met before." I had met Pinnacle before, though just barely. It had been years ago, back when I'd helped the cops find where Rachael was hiding so they could get her off the street. Since the cops didn't think they could handle her on their own, they'd also called in some of the local super heroes, including Pinnacle. However I didn't remember Pinnacle being quite so big. "You're a very lucky man," Pinnacle told me, giving me a curious look. "A lot of people don't survive an encounter with Lady Havoc. What I need from you is to know why Lady Havoc went through the trouble of breaking into a hospital to try killing you." "She wasn't trying to kill me," I responded with a snort, glaring up at the man as I did so. "She was trying to cure my cancer." Dr. Franklin looked surprised at that, then blurted out, "Why in the world would you think that someone like Lady Havoc was trying to cure you?" I looked her straight in the eyes as I answered, "Because she's my daughter." Dr. Franklin's mouth dropped open at that and she just stared at me with an expression of stunned disbelief. Pinnacle stared at me for several seconds as well before he finally said, "I remember you now. You helped us capture her..." "On the condition that you didn't hurt her," I reminded him, somehow feeling it important to point out that distinction. It was hard enough living with the knowledge that I'd betrayed my own daughter, even if I didn't have much choice at the time. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd just stood by and let her kill more people. "I remember," he said, giving me a sympathetic look and adding, "I know that couldn't have been easy on you." "You have no idea," I muttered. "That...explains a few things," Dr. Franklin said, still staring at me. Pinnacle and I both gave her curious looks, though he was the one who asked, "What things?" "That he survived at all, for one," she responded with a thoughtful look. Then she glanced at Pinnacle before looking directly at me. "Please tell us exactly what happened during the encounter, and anything she may have said involving whatever she did to you." I scowled at that, then nodded, not seeing any reason not to tell them. "When I woke up, she was there waiting for me. I thought she'd just come to say goodbye before..." I paused at that, then shook my head. "I just thought she was there for a visit..." I told them about the short visit and what we'd talked about, though I left out any of the real personal details. When I went to tell Dr. Franklin what I could remember about the stuff she injected me with, it wasn't really useful. I remembered the car repair analogy a lot better than the medical one, which had Dr. Franklin looking frustrated while Pinnacle just chuckled. "She did say something about it eating the cancer and then fixing my other cells," I added with a shrug. "Did she say anything about where she's been staying?" Pinnacle asked me with an eager look. I laughed at that. "Yeah right. She already knows I'd turn her in so she's been keeping her distance and didn't say a word about it. This was the first time I've even seen her in years." "I thought it might be too much to hope for," Pinnacle mused. With that I turned my attention to Dr. Franklin, who kept giving me odd looks. "Now, what the fuck aren't you telling me?" I paused at that, realizing that I was talking that way to a lady and apologizing, "Pardon my French." Dr. Franklin frowned, then told me, "When you were first examined, your temperature was extremely high and you were showing other symptoms that made us assume you were a mutant going through burnout." "What?" I asked in surprise, then burst out laughing. "Sorry, but I ain't no mutant." "That was just our first assumption, based off the symptoms," Dr. Franklin continued, her tone and expression going completely professional. "Then the blood test discovered the foreign substance in your blood that was somewhat akin to nanites or a synthetic virus. We saw that this was making alterations, attacking the cancer cells and reinforcing the healthy ones. The process put an intense amount of stress on your body, which quite frankly wasn't healthy enough to handle it. It's a miracle you actually survived her attempt to save you." I just grunted at that, not really all that surprised. I was pretty much up shit creek without a paddle, so even having just a single paddle was a big improvement. If Rachael had waited any longer, it probably would have been even worse. I didn't blame my daughter since I'd known the risks when I agreed. "Your body lost mass in the process," Dr. Franklin told me, holding up a folder that was stuffed full of paperwork, obviously my medical records. "This says you were six foot three inches tall..." She paused at that, giving me a sympathetic look before adding, "I'd estimate your current height to be closer to five foot ten." "What?" I asked in surprise, looking to Pinnacle and realizing that this was why he seemed so huge. He wasn't bigger, I was shorter. While I was absorbing that, Dr. Franklin continued, "Your body went through some other changes while we were treating you, though none nearly as obvious as the loss of mass." I touched my hair self-consciously, then said, "Damn, I need a beer." I looked to Pinnacle and then Dr. Franklin and added, "Or something stronger." Dr. Franklin didn't seem to pay any attention to my interruption. "The foreign substance in your system successfully destroyed the cancer cells, and my examination could find no trace of any remaining cancer. At the same time the cancer was being destroyed, it triggered an effect through the rest of your body that was much like giving you a burst of the regeneration power." She paused for a moment, giving me an odd look. Then she cleared her throat and said, "The entire process took three days, and at the end of it, the foreign substance completely cleared from your system." I frowned, trying to make sense of everything she was telling me, though I didn't quite get it all. Still I understood enough of what she was saying and didn't want to look stupid by asking too many questions. "So I was out of it for three days," I said, having caught that part. "Four," Dr. Franklin corrected me. "After the process ran its course, you remained unconscious for another day while your body finished recovering." I nodded at that, then let out a sigh of relief. "So I'm cured... The cancer is gone." I chuckled at that, feeling a surge of pride for Rachael. She'd done a lot of crappy things, things that I hated to think about, so it was nice to have something I could feel proud of again. "Yes," Dr. Franklin agreed with a shake of her head. "As hard as it is to believe, Lady Havoc created a cure for cancer." "Tell him the rest," Pinnacle said with a scowl. He'd been so quiet for the last couple minutes that I'd almost forgotten he was there. I gave Dr. Franklin a suspicious look while she flipped through some notes and charts, as though trying to delay whatever she needed to tell me. After several long seconds, she turned her attention back to me, her expression going from curious to professional. "As I said, Lady Havoc's substance seems to have run its course and then cleared from your system," Dr. Franklin explained carefully. "However..." She paused at that and I suddenly felt very nervous at that 'however'. I knew that Rachael's inventions always had some kind of catch or side effect, and it seemed that every time I thought that I knew what this one was, there was more to it. I braced myself and waited for the doctor to continue. "Your body is still changing," she stated, looking me right in the eyes. "After the foreign substance flushed itself from your system, the regeneration effect didn't end and your body is showing other indications..." Dr. Franklin started going off into a bunch of medical technobabble that made me scratch my head in confusion since I couldn't really understand a single word she said. There was bone density this, plyocentric adaptation that, and a bunch of other crap I couldn't make sense of. "Doc," I finally snapped in annoyance. "Pretend I'm a high school dropout who spent his entire life under the hood of a car. Now, in English, what the hell is going on?" Dr. Franklin gave me an exasperated look while Pinnacle chuckled in amusement. She gave him a quick glare, then said, "In simple terms... you're a mutant." "Bullshit," I responded with a snort. "I thought we already went over that..." "You have multiple indications of an active mutation," Dr. Franklin explained grimly. "Either that foreign substance introduced something to your system that is giving you the mutant gene complex, or it triggered a latent mutation to manifest. Since your daughter is a mutant, I suspect it's probably the latter." "Congratulations," Pinnacle told me, still looking faintly amused. "You're a mutant." -------------------- *Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, July 9th, 2007* I was in the bathroom, having just finished with a nice long crap. As I washed my hands in the sink, I was very careful not to look up into the mirror. Ever since I'd woken up in this place yesterday, every time I looked into the mirror I was caught by surprise. My body had changed while I was out of it, and as Dr. Franklin had warned me, it had continued to change more. Without having to look into the mirror, I already knew what I'd see. I looked younger than I actually was, a lot younger. In fact, the last time I'd looked into a mirror a few hours ago, I would have guessed myself to be in my twenties, and probably early twenties at that. My skin was all soft and smooth, and I still didn't have any signs of stubble growing back. I even had a full head of hair, which had grown out a good five inches since yesterday. In fact the only thing about me that didn't seem younger was my hair color. My hair was longer and thicker, but it was now a silvery white color. "I get to look older and younger at the same time," I said with a forced chuckle, trying not to think about the most noticeable change that I'd gone through. After I woke up yesterday, I'd been pretty shocked to find out that I'd shrunk a good five inches. That had been a tough pill to swallow, but not nearly as much as the fact that I'd lost another five inches of height since then. At first, I was looking Dr. Franklin straight in the eyes, and now I actually had to look up at her. For most of my life, I'd been known as Big Al, but now I was damn near a midget. "I'm a mutant," I stated with a sigh, taking some of the running water and splashing it on my face. I still refused to look into the mirror. I'd always known that God had a wicked sense of humor, as proven by the existence of giraffes, platypuses, and scientologists, but this particular joke on me was a doozy. When Melanie had just been a baby, I'd joined up with Humanity First, which had been something like a neighborhood watch that looked out for dangerous mutants instead of regular criminals. As far as I'd been concerned, no one in their right mind would give some fifteen year old kid a flamethrower and then let him walk around in public with it, and I saw no difference between that and a mutant kid who could do the same thing with his bare hands. Mutants could be pretty dangerous and I wanted to do anything I could to protect my family from them. But then Rachael had manifested as a mutant and I'd had to protect her from a threat I'd never expected, my own buddies. I'd left Humanity First on less than friendly terms. Now here I was, a middle-aged guy with two grandkids, who was manifesting as a mutant, which was something that normally only happened to teenagers. Though I'd never admit it out loud, the idea of being a mutant scared the crap out of me. Being a mutant had not only destroyed Rachael's life, it had also caused a lot of pain for the rest of the family. I couldn't bear the thought of putting everyone through that again. But in spite of everything that was happening to my body, and all the worries I had because of it, I was in a surprisingly good mood. Then again, maybe it wasn't all that surprising since a couple days ago I'd been dying of cancer but now I was cured and had a second chance at life. Not only was my cancer gone, but I actually felt better than I ever had in my life. There were no aches or pains at all, and I was practically bursting with energy. I turned off the water, only to have the faucet handle break off in my hand. I frowned for a moment before dropping the handle in the sink, not too surprised by it. After all, just about everything in this place seemed to be made as cheap as possible because it kept breaking in my hands. Yesterday, when Dr. Franklin had given me some real clothes to wear, the shirt was so flimsy that I'd accidentally torn it in half. With that I looked down at the clothes I was currently wearing and let out a sigh. The clothes had fit perfectly fine when I'd gotten dressed this morning, but now they were all too baggy on me, a clear indication of just how much I've been shrinking. "Things could be a lot worse," I reminded myself with a chuckle. "You could still be in a hospital bed dying." Whenever I started to worry about the way my body was changing or began to feel sorry for myself, that simple reminder helped to put things in perspective. And besides, I'd agreed to this, knowing that there would be risks. When I'd told Rachael to cure me, I'd known full well that I might end up with scales or something else, so there was no point in complaining about it now. I'd made a decision and I was going to have to live with the consequences, both good and bad. I finally looked up into the mirror and saw that my reflection had changed a little more since the last time I'd looked, though it wasn't anything especially obvious. My face just looked a little softer, a little younger. I looked like I was in my late teens now. As I left the bathroom, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ribbon that Kimberly had given me back in the other hospital. Dr. Franklin told me that when they'd brought me here, I'd been clutching it firmly in my hand. I smiled faintly, thinking that she'd given it to me for luck, and it seemed to have worked because I couldn't think of very many things that would have been luckier than finding a cure for cancer. However a cure for Diedricks did come to mind. I continued holding the ribbon as I looked around the hospital room where I was still staying, though most of the medical equipment had been moved out to the side. Dr. Franklin didn't seem to think I needed a heart monitor or any of that anymore, though she had run me through a few tests yesterday after I'd woken up, then a few more this morning. She assured me that Rachael's cure was completely out of my system and that everything I was going through now was part of my mutation, though she still wasn't sure if Rachael's cure had caused the mutation or if it had simply flipped the switch on one that was already there. After Rachael had given me the cure, my body was in pretty bad shape, probably worse than what she'd expected. Dr. Franklin said I went into an artificially induced burnout state, though I didn't fully understand what that meant, only that it came close to killing me. I would have figured that it was a good thing I was already in a hospital, but apparently, the doctors there didn't think they could handle it. They figured I was either a mutant or was having a bad reaction to the stuff Rachael had given me, so they'd actually sent me here, to what they just referred to as the Clinic. Apparently the Clinic was a small private hospital that had been made specifically to deal with mutants and other people with powers. Yesterday, after I'd been declared healthy enough to leave the room, I'd been given a quick tour of the place. The Clinic itself wasn't very big, but it was kind of impressive in its own way. Apparently, they have access to some of the best medical gear on the planet. I didn't know much about medicine once you got past putting on a band-aid, but even I could tell this place was something special. I sat down in a chair and let out a sigh, wondering what my kids would say about this whole situation. I imagined that Melanie would be pretty worried about me while Rich would probably find it hilarious. After all the times we'd argued about mutants, he'd probably laugh his ass off at me turning into one. A moment later, there was a knock on the door, right before Pinnacle came into the room. He'd looked pretty tall to me yesterday, and since I'd gotten smaller, he now looked enormous. From my perspective, he looked like he was over seven feet tall, though I knew he was 'only' 6 foot 4. "Hey, Al," Pinnacle greeted me, giving me a curious look. "How are you holding up?" "Not too bad," I responded, not about to go whining about my problems. "I could use a beer though." Pinnacle chuckled at that and responded, "Sorry, I'm all out at the moment." I nodded at that, looking up at Pinnacle and trying not to show how annoying it was to have him towering over me like that. I was used to being the biggest guy in the room, so this was definitely a novel experience for me, and not one I particularly liked. But considering my situation, I had a feeling that I'd better get used to it. With a body like that and a name like Pinnacle, I would have thought he'd be an arrogant prick. However he actually came off as a decent guy, though that might just be the fact that he'd brought me a beer last night. Anyone who'd sneak a beer past Dr. Franklin was all right in my book. "Doctor Franklin wants to talk to you in a bit about the results of your tests," Pinnacle told me, giving me a weak smile. "You haven't done any power testing yet, but there a couple obvious things that I think I can give you a heads up about." I nodded at that, scowling slightly at the mention of powers. There was something vaguely appealing about the idea of having some kind of power that other people didn't, but it also made me more than a little nervous. After all, mutant powers could be extremely dangerous, for the mutant as well as everyone else. I'd firmly believed that when I joined Humanity First, and everything that had happened with Rachael had only confirmed it. I expected Pinnacle to just start telling me whatever it was he wanted to say, but instead he left the room and gestured for me to follow. He led me to an elevator, and I realized that he probably meant to go to the cafeteria. It was about lunch time and I was starting to get a bit hungry, so that was fine by me. Though I'd been told about the cafeteria, all my food had been brought to me in my room so this was actually my first time seeing it. I was surprised when I looked around and saw that the room looked more like a nice restaurant than anything else. "Technically," Pinnacle told me as we went to take a seat, "the Clinic doesn't own the cafeteria. It...shares it." "Shares it?" I asked curiously. An actual waiter came by and gave us our menus, and Pinnacle waited until he was gone before he explained. "A small group of donors own the building and fund the Clinic. The Clinic gets two floors, and they share the cafeteria here with the other occupants." "And who are the other occupants?" I asked, looking through the menu and deciding the burger looked good. I haven't had a good burger in way too long. "The Freelancers," Pinnacle answered. A hospital orderly who was walking past at that moment joked, "You mean the Freeloaders..." "We Freelancers get two floors to use as a headquarters," Pinnacle told me, giving the orderly a glare. "So, you've got a group called the Freelancers," I commented with a grunt. "Seems weird having a group of heroes sharing a base with a hospital." "We're not actually an official group," Pinnacle responded with a chuckle. "Basically, we're all freelancers...solo operators who just share a headquarters. The donor group built a headquarters and then invited local independent heroes to come and use it. It's their way of trying to support our work...and maybe keep track of us." "Freeloaders," I said with a chuckle, remembering what the orderly had said. "As the Clinic people like to call us," he admitted. "It is a good deal for us. We have good facilities, though admittedly, some people use it more as a social club than for actual business." "I don't know," another man in a costume said as he came and sat into one of the chairs at our table without invitation. "Sharing information on possible opponents sounds like business to me." "Or just gossip," Pinnacle responded. Then he gestured to the newcomer and told me, "This is Asset. He makes gear and weapons for any of the Freelancers who require it." I looked at the slender man with sandy blonde hair, noting the goggles on his head and the belt full of odd devices at his waist. "You're a devisor," I said grimly. Asset gave me a curious look, then asked, "What do you know about devisors?" "They make things that don't make sense," I answered. "That's true, more or less," Asset agreed. "Devisors alter the laws of physics to suit their purposes. They can make some impressive things, but their devices can't be copied by other people." I nodded at that, knowing exactly what he meant. I'd once disassembled one of Rachael's devices to see how it worked, not that it had done any good. Afterwards I put it back together exactly the way she'd had it, and it refused to work again. "I'm familiar with devisors," I said, earning a grim look from Pinnacle, who was obviously thinking of who the source of that experience was. Asset nodded at that, then told me, "I'm actually a gadgeteer." At my blank look, he explained, "We have a psychic ability that lets us instinctively understand technology, in one form or another. We deal with normal physics, which means our inventions can be duplicated by others." "Doctor Franklin is a low level bio-gadgeteer," Pinnacle told me. "She has an instinctive understanding of human biology, the kind that might take a baseline doctor decades of experience to even approach." "The chef is a gadgeteer too," Asset added, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. "His specialty is food science, flavor profiles, and that kind of thing, which makes him one of the best chefs in the world." At this point, the waiter came over to take our orders. "I'll have a burger and a beer," I told him. The waiter gave me a patronizing smile and said, "I'll need to see your ID before I can serve you alcohol." I snarled in annoyance, realizing that I didn't have my ID on me. I don't even remember if I'd had my license with me in my old hospital room before I'd been brought here. It had been so long since anyone had bothered carding me, that I hadn't even considered the possibility until now. "I left my license in my other pants," I said. "Then I'm afraid I'm not allowed to serve you alcohol," the waiter responded with the same smile that was probably meant to be pleasant but ended up pissing me off instead. "Sorry there little lady," Asset told me with a chuckle, "but you're a bit too young." I glared at Asset, but it was Pinnacle who said, "HE is older than HE looks. He's going through a late onset manifestation that's regressing him." "Oh," Asset responded, obviously embarrassed for the mistake. "I'm sorry..." Asset apologized a couple more times, then made some excuses before rushing off. "I'm sorry for that," Pinnacle told me once A