Chapter 42: 12:00. Full Circle (alt.)

The cold, stark light of morning broke upon my consciousness. The clouds still hung over the city, but somewhere out there the Sun was striving to pierce through, and the sky was a cool, muted white rather than yesterday's stormy gray. Snow billowed across the quad like bedsheets blown off the clothesline in an old cartoon, and drifted up against the ground floor of the dorm to a good foot above the window line; it must be waist-deep out there.

I was awake, but I didn't feel like it; Tammy had wound me just before bedtime, but my very stressful evening had led to a very restless night. Consciousness was a binary state for me now, and I'd "slept" all the way through, but whatever memories I'd processed and dreams I'd had must've had me working overtime. I rattled in wordless irritation; what good was it being a machine lifeform when your "brain" suffered from the same dumb vagaries that organics' did!?

There was a nagging feeling that I'd just forgotten something important in waking; it was on the tip of my brain, but I couldn't remember... The only thing I could recall was a single image: a broken figurine, like the ones in my nightmare. This was different, though, not thrashed apart by some merciless master machine, but torn up the back; it reminded me of pictures I'd seen of a discarded chrysalis. I wondered briefly what might have emerged from it, but forgot all about it when I realized that my mother was gone.

I scrambled out of bed. It was probably irrational for me to be this nervous, but I was feeling all kinds of odd this morning. The fact that the bedclothes were untouched didn't help; had she been up at the computer all night...? No, maybe she'd just gone to sleep on the couch; she'd seemed a little uneasy when I mentioned that the other bed was Emma's, and the fact that you know a fear is irrational doesn't mean it can't give you nightmares. Maybe I should've taken hers and she could've had mine...

Tammy was already up when I went over to her side of the suite. "Oh, hey," she said, smiling. "You're up early. Feeling any better?"

"Uh, sort of...?" I replied, only half-listening. I glanced at the couch - empty. "Hey, have you seen, uh...?"

She nodded. "You just missed her. Said she was going out for a bit and she'd be back later; sounded like she had to meet somebody." She frowned. "You guys have friends up here...?"

I shook my head, confused but starting to piece together a picture I didn't like. We didn't know anyone in the Lakeside area, so who would she be meeting...? Someone in the administration? No, they were long gone by now; the only staff left were the ones needed to keep the campus open over break. That went for most of the faculty, too...

And the image of her sitting up late peering at a computer screen, researching, rung a far-too-familiar bell. I'd seen that scene - that expression - more than once over the years; that was her concluding that I was never going to get a handle on something, and she couldn't leave me to flail around in the throes of decision paralysis forever. That was what she looked like when she'd decided that she had no choice but to do something about it...

Ticking rapidly, nervously, I went to my desk and brought my laptop out of sleep mode. She hadn't even closed the browser window, and the tab bar told the whole story: searches on reversing changes, a bunch of pop-science junk mealy-mouthing about what might one day be possible, searches on designer transformations, a handful of fringe sites that might as well be claiming to turn lead into gold...and, finally, a Craigslist ad for a "body shop."

It wasn't illegal to transform people for money, provided that you document thoroughly and file the necessary paperwork, and there were a few "clinics" out on society's lunatic fringe that did just that; but it required expensive equipment and incurred a fairly staggering electric bill. It was something you'd find in hotspots for card-carrying freak-flag culture - Portland, San Francisco, etc. - but not an old Midwest steel town turned college town. And they had to be very careful about what they promised in the ad copy (and made you sign a pile of waivers,) since they had no way to control the result.

Much more common were places like this one - hole-in-the-wall "experience parlors" that fed patrons a lot of mystical woo-woo about "transforming their inner self," "opening chakras," et cetera, relying on simple head-trickery and hypnotist hucksterism, the client's will to believe, and the all-important Asterisk of Shielding^* to keep from crossing the line into "actionable." It was sleazy as hell, of course, but the authorities cared about as much as they did with phone psychics, at least until they got a bit too creative in "enhancing" things. (It was no coincidence that most of these places were just 'round the corner from a head shop.)

^* (For entertainment purposes only.)

What was she thinking!? Okay, she wasn't up on the subject - she didn't even like to talk about the subject - and it wasn't necessarily common knowledge that these places were certifiably total snake-oil, but...she wasn't stupid, for crying out loud! Even the pages she had open were as nakedly bullshit as the sites that pretend you can cure cancer with magnets and fruit juice;^* what could possibly induce her to turn off her brain long enough to indulge this nonsense...!?

^* (Mystical, exotic fruit juice, naturally, available mail-order for only $OBSCENE.99/bottle - ask about our bulk discounts!)

This was not good. I hoped she had more sense than to get involved with these types; maybe she just wasn't up on this stuff enough to recognize them at first glance, online. Hopefully, common sense would kick in once she got a look at the place - but even then, it was in a bad part of town, and there was the little matter of the blizzard. This was not good at all...

I got dressed in a hurry, throwing on one of my modified T-shirts and slipping on the rumpled skirt from yesterday, since it went on quicker than my jeans. I had to catch up with her, had to stop her before she got herself mugged or scammed or frozen on what she assumed was my behalf. I slung my purse over my shoulder, slipped on my shoes, and barged out into the hall.

"Hey!" Tammy called, rolling out of the door on her side to meet me. "The hell're you going...!?"

I turned to her, gritting my teeth and feeling my mechanisms chatter as I thought about it. This was probably as crazy in its own way as what she was doing, wasn't it? But I couldn't not do it... "I, uh...I don't have time to explain," I said. "I gotta catch the bus. Check my computer and you'll understand."

"Wha-? Hey, wait!" she called after me, but I was already sprinting down to the lobby.

---

A few minutes later, I was underway. Thankfully, I'd gotten there just before it arrived; otherwise I'd never have caught up with her. Even so, it'd be tight. She didn't have to wait for the bus to wend its way slowly down the hill, but there was no way the streets'd be clear enough to park on, so she'd have to park at the convention center and take the skywalk. But the bus ran right past our destination - meaning that, if I was very lucky, we'd get there around the same time.

Hell, I thought, I was lucky the bus was running at all; at least the weather had cleared, somewhat. And I was surprised how quickly I'd gotten down to the stop; I'd never run like this, and while it was as weird and inelegant as everything else about me, I was faster than anticipated, given my weight. Maybe it was part of my ability to self-regulate, like at the lake? I'd have to be careful; it'd do me no good to get almost there and then run down at the critical moment...

So for now I sat quietly on the mostly-empty bus, as it crept its way down the hillside at an agonizingly safe and responsible pace. Gusts of snow roared up from the lake basin, making for a stiff headwind; I could hear the driver's knuckles pop as she clenched the wheel. I thought back to Tammy in the hall. I hoped I hadn't upset her, running off without explanation, but I hadn't had a moment to spare; and she could put two and two together without me there to spell it out.

In fact, while I was considering it, my phone pinged. I fished it out of my purse and found a message from her:

Tammy: You weren't kidding. That could be a bunch of trouble.

Tammy: Just...be safe, okay?

Despite the situation, I couldn't help smiling as I tapped out a reply. I kinda wished I'd dragged her along, but I didn't know how she'd fare in snow; the sidewalks on campus had been cleared early in the morning, but they were already piling up again, and the same was probably true downtown. And I'd be happy to assist at any other time, but right now I had someone else to worry about.

I couldn't stop thinking about it; about her blindly charging into what was, at best, a complete and utter misunderstanding in a sleazy part of town, and at worst a situation where she could be in real danger. Exposure couldn't do any more to me than run me down and leave me buried in a snowdrift for a while; but she could actually die.

And for what? A false hope of bringing everything tidily back to "normal?" Maybe it was because I'd let myself hold onto that delusion for too long, but I felt almost incensed at the idea. Did she think I'd want my own mother to risk herself for the sake of...of my convenience!? That it'd be worth it if it alleviated my discomfort at the weirdness I'd brought upon myself? And...did she think this had to happen now!? That I desperately needed to change back right away? I'd been living like this just fine for nearly two months...!

Well, not just fine, surely...? There'd been all the awkwardness and unease - of having to adjust to a different body, getting used to seeing someone else in the mirror, having strangers and friends alike see me differently for it, trying to come to terms with all the weird, difficult questions this raised for me and my sense of self - and, lest I forget, the part where I was wholly dependent on others. That hadn't been easy, had it? Those were all reasons I'd want to become something closer to "normal," even if I could never get all the way back there, right?

It just didn't have to happen now, that's all...

My tempo was up, I realized, and I hadn't been wound since last night. It was drafty and cold in the bus, too, and I'd completely forgotten my jacket... I tried to put it out of my mind; I needed all the energy I could spare. I managed to calm myself back down a bit, but I still found myself low-key brooding about nothing articulate all the way down the hill. Why did that get me so rattled? I should be worrying about her right now, not myself...

An eternity later, the bus braked long and slow, lumbering around the corner onto East 1st St. - not that I could see much besides the dim grey outlines of buildings through the driving snow. I knew the area, just uphill from the mini-casino someone had crammed into one of the old industrial spaces. Heck, I'd probably walked past the very place when Gil had dragged me out here to help haul some old electronics back from the recycle center. I tugged the cord, and the driver ground to a halt, brakes hissing.

The doors opened, and I stepped into the street; the snow was nearly halfway up my shins. The storm had let up since last night, but it was still going pretty good. The cold didn't hurt, but I could feel it; and the wind whipped my skirt hard against the felt "skin" of my leg and left the other side trailing, snapping and cracking like a flag in the breeze. If I were still human, I thought, I'd be freezing; but I had more important things to worry about.

I glanced around, peering at the signs on the buildings; I could just barely see across the street. Yes, there it was, between the cheap liquor store and the bail-bond place. And there she was, peering in the window of the darkened shop, ignoring the unlit OPEN sign, looking to see if there was anyone inside she could flag down.

I started across the street, trudging through the snow. The shop was closed, and the whole block was empty; there was no danger of her coming to any harm in the next couple minutes. So why did it feel so urgent to me...? It was like there was something I desperately needed to do right now; like if I didn't, if I couldn't make myself, I'd never fix things between us...

I tried to call out to her, but all that came out was a weak hissing. Damn it, again? I'd been fine back at the dorm! Maybe it wasn't a lack of water; maybe I was just having a hard time getting it to boil, in the cold. I stopped and braced myself, feeling something rev up in my abdomen. "hhhhhHHHHHHEY!" I yelled, the word finally emerging out of the hissing steam. My voice had a strange, crystalline edge to it, like there was frost built up on whatever resonator shaped the vowels.

I wondered if I was loud enough to be heard over the wind; but she whirled around in surprise and immediately dashed toward me, as I resumed my trek across the street. "Stuart!?" she called in a worried tone, almost losing her footing before catching herself and plowing through the snowdrifts to meet me. "What are you doing here!?"

"ME!?" I yelped in astonishment. "What are you doing here!?" My mechanisms were surging as much as the cold would allow. It really was getting to me, now; I could feel myself beginning to slow down. Not now, damn it! I thought, willing myself to keep up. Not before...before...

She made to answer, paused for a moment, and got a look on her face like she'd only just realized she'd run out in what was still more or less a blizzard for this. "I, uh..." she stammered; her face was turning red, and not from the cold. "Honey...honestly, I couldn't just sit there and not try to help you."

For a long moment, I couldn't think of what to say. I wanted to say that she should've known places like this were a total scam, but that wasn't the important thing here. I wanted to say that it could wait until the storm passed, but that wasn't it either. I clenched my fists; if I'd still been human, there would've been hot tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Why could I never figure out what I wanted to tell her when it mattered...?

"Because you don't have to put a brave face on it, okay?" She sighed, her breath clouding in the air. "If you really don't want this, then I'll do anything I can to help you fix it. I...I don't want to see you fall into a downward spiral because of this, not if there's anything I can do about it."

Was that what this was about? For all her evident discomfort with this, was she really more worried that I was unhappy? It seemed hard to believe, but...damn it, that was just like her. Always jumping to conclusions simply because I couldn't ever give her a straight answer to work with, because I was too busy worrying about what she expected from me - so she'd try to "help" by arranging for me to pursue my feigned desires, reflecting what I thought she might want, the two of us inevitably doing this same stupid dance, over and over again...

And where did she even get the idea that I was any unhappier now than I had been...? Oh, right, I'd basically told her as much, detailing exactly how I'd never wanted this, how I'd intended to change myself again ASAP, because I didn't want her to think I was weird, because I could never just tell her the truth when a lie might be more comfortable, because I could never just say that-

"MOM, I'M FINE!!!"

She looked as startled as I felt. I hadn't meant to shout it - I wasn't sure I'd meant to say it - but the words wouldn't come out any other way. We both stood there in shock; in the movies, it was the kind of moment where a discarded newspaper would sail past, but the only thing the wind had to throw at us right now was more snow.

I still couldn't believe I'd said it; but it was more surprising to realize that it was true. It wasn't something I'd said to mollify her because I thought I was making her uncomfortable, or an empty agreement with her attempts to help me; it was just a plain and simple fact. I wasn't spiraling out of control, falling into depression, or bottling everything up inside until I couldn't hold it any longer and had a breakdown. My machinery was racing, but I was...I was okay.

Why was I okay...? I thought I'd been telling Gil the truth when I said I wasn't unhappy with what I used to see in the mirror, and this whole visit was living proof that nothing about being this was a miracle cure for my real problems. And there were all the inconveniences and constraints of this form to consider...so why did none of it seem that important? From the look on her face, she was wondering the same thing.

"Honey," she said, "you...you told me...?"

"...I really didn't plan on this," I sighed. "And I...didn't think I ever felt like I desperately wanted to be something else. I did plan on changing back to something closer to what I used to be as soon as I could, at first. That was all true. But..."

I hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued. "I...don't hate this. It's weird and unfamiliar and I'm still getting used to it. It's got its share of stupid limitations, and those are annoying. But...I can live with it. If I do change back, it doesn't have to be right now, especially not if it means you putting yourself at risk for it. I'm okay, Mom. I'm fine."

And that was also the truth: unvarnished, unspun, plain and simple. All that agonizing over what I'd felt like I was supposed to be, things I thought I should feel, standards I figured I was expected to hold myself to...but had I ever really wanted to be that thing, and not this? To feel that way, and not another? Even if I really wasn't unhappy as I had been...did that mean I couldn't be happy like this? I never asked for it; but did that have to mean I couldn't accept it...at least for now...?

No. No it didn't. It was okay, and I was fine.

As we stood there in the middle of a damn blizzard, each trying to come to terms with the part of myself I'd just bared, a particularly vicious gust came up the hillside and whipped down the street, rattling me good and nearly knocking my mother off her feet. I shook my head, glanced over to see if Mom needed help, and...

...and then it all caught up with me. I hadn't been wound since last night, I hadn't rested properly, I'd been running in high gear all this morning, it was cold and windy out and I wasn't dressed for it. I'd noticed that I was running down, somewhere in the back of my mind, but I'd been too focused on everything else to stop and think about it; now it was impossible to miss.

"S-uar-? Ho-y? -re y- -ka-?" my mother said, the sound coming into my brain all choppy and rising in pitch as the world accelerated around me. God, this was the first time she was seeing this, wasn't it? Had I explained it to her, last night? I thought I had... I tried to use the last of my energy to assure her that this was normal and nothing to worry about; but I was crashing hard, like at the lake, and it was only a matter of time before I'd st-

---

-op?

It was less confusing the second time around. I knew what to expect, and it wasn't a surprise to find that everything around me was different. I was back in the dorm, standing by the window, and the low-profile radiator that ran underneath it. The sun was already setting.

Tammy must be winding me, then; reality was running in fits and starts around me. Between strokes, I thought back to what'd happened just before I stopped - the storm, the bus ride, my encounter in the street with...

Mom. Where was she!? Was she safe? She wasn't still out there...!? I scanned the room as quickly as I could before the next stroke, but I'd hardly had time to process anything when it started. I was about to break free and look around for her when a familiar voice murmured "You're back - oh, thank God..."

That wasn't Tammy's voice, and this wasn't Tammy's touch, either; I glanced back to find my mother standing behind me. She was visibly tearing up, and I could feel her shaking through my key. I was about to reply when the face in the glass caught my eye. It was strangely familiar. It always kinda had been, but once I was a girl it was undeniable; and I recognized it now. It was her face, minus the years and the worries, now joined in the mirror by the original.

She left off for a moment; I could see her sagging with relief. I turned around without a word and pulled her into a hug; I could feel her squeezing me so tightly in return that it might've hurt, if I hadn't been made of metal. For a long minute we just stood there, holding each other. "I'm so glad you're alright," she said, audibly choking up. "When I saw you just...stopped...like that, I...I thought, well..."

"It's...probably weird, I know," I said, shaking my head. "But, well...this is me, now. And...and you were the one who could've gotten hurt, Mom! No matter how much you think I need help myself, I need you around more, okay...!?"

I found myself juddering with all the pent-up worries that'd been running through my mind only a few (relative) minutes ago, and she held me close and patted me gently on the back, too focused on the embrace to let herself be unsettled by the hollow thump it made. "You're right," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, honey. I just...I worry about you, and I want to do what I can to help you. And from the way you talked about it last night..."

"I know," I sighed. "But I mmeannttt whhat I ssss..." Damn it, was I running down again? Always in the middle of something...!

"Oh, ah, my apologies," she said, coming around back and starting to wind me again. Her touch was a little stiff, a bit uneasy; but it was warm and loving and comforting in ways I hadn't realized I desperately needed until now. If I'd been capable of it, I probably would've started to cry; as it was, I just took a moment to savor it, vibrating softly with emotion, feeling things without being trapped in them.

"I meant what I said, there in the street," I continued at last. "I know it's strange, and inconvenient, and this...this thing that's me now is kind of ridiculous and doesn't make a lot of sense. But...I don't hate it. I'm...I'm okay with it, I think. Or if I'm not, if I do find something about it that I just can't live with, I can worry about it then. But for now...I'm okay, Mom. Really."

"In spite of...all this?" she asked.

I felt myself bristle a little, but I didn't think she was trying to lead me to change my mind because she thought I didn't know what I wanted because I couldn't tell her. We'd done that dance often enough that I knew what it felt like. I thought for a minute, and nodded. "...Yeah."

She sighed heavily as she continued to wind me. "I can't say I'll ever really understand, but...well, I'm glad that you're finally figuring out what you want for yourself. And I love you, and I don't want you to ever think you can't come talk to me. And if...if I have trouble with it...please, don't blame yourself. God knows I'm nothing like perfect, but I want to be there for you, honey."

She finished and took me in her arms, wrapping me in her soft, warm embrace once more. "And," she said, "if I said I'm glad you take after your father...well, honey, I am proud of your abilities. But it means much more to me that you've got his readiness to use your knowledge for others. From what your roommates tell me, you've found an outlet for it that means a lot to you, and...whether or not I understand, I'm glad for that."

I really would've broken down crying at that; I felt myself beginning to judder again, and it took a good while to finally collect myself and settle down into a normal rhythm. I felt a bit silly for getting so worked up, but...God, did I need that. I'd needed it for years...

"Hey, you're up and running," Tammy said, wheeling in from the other room. "I thought I recognized that clatter."

"How...how long was I out...?" I asked, not quite ready to leave my mother's embrace.

"Most of the day," she replied. "You were still pretty frozen when she hauled you back in here; we didn't want to take any chances. Here - thought you might want this." She handed me my thermos.

"Oh, uh, thanks," I said, opening it and taking a long sip of piping-hot black tea, feeling the warmth slowly spread through my frame. It made sense that Mom had gotten me back, but I hadn't thought about it until now; about her having to drag me back here, hauling my clumsy, heavy clockwork ass off the street, down the skywalk, back to the dorm... I felt strangely warm when I thought of her caring for me that much, but it must've been the tea.

I glanced back at her face; at the aging skin, the lines and wrinkles. Her makeup was running with the tears, and there were bags under her eyes. How long had she been up last night...? How much of that was for my sake? Not to say that some of it (well, a lot of it) hadn't been misguided, but...maybe we were both at fault for that. If I'd only been able to be honest with her, if she'd only realized how her reactions made me feel...maybe we both had some things to work on. But then, we had time for it.

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While I stood there, brain clattering as I tried to process it all, Tammy's phone pinged. "Oh, dinner should be here in a couple minutes," she said, looking a little apologetic. "I'll, uh, be back in a bit."

"Oh, let me," my mother said, letting me go a little reluctantly.

"Hey, no, it's fine," Tammy said. "I don't wanna interrupt or anything..."

"No, it's really no trouble..." Mom had already grabbed her purse and was getting her coat off the rack.

Tammy glanced at me curiously, and I shrugged. She nodded. "Um, thanks."

When Mom had gone, she turned to me. "What was that about? I hope she didn't feel obligated to get it for me just 'cause of the chair."

I shook my head. "Nah," I said, taking a long sip of my tea. "She just hates to feel like she's not making herself useful. Doesn't want to think of herself as being a burden. She gets kinda fixated on it."

A wry smile crossed her lips. "Reminds of someone else I know."

I glanced away, rattling awkwardly. "I, uh, I guess."

She rolled her shoulders and stretched, pectoral fins flexing. "What actually happened out there, anyway?"

"She didn't tell you?" I said, a little surprised.

Tammy shook her head. "She was completely fixated when she got back. Took me five solid minutes to talk her down and get it through that this was...'normal,' by our standards. She wouldn't even break for lunch; I had to run down to the cafeteria and grab the last of the sugar cookies while she stayed with you."

I felt funny again at that thought, but I set that aside for now and gave her a run-down on what'd happened, out in the street. She spent a moment mulling it over, and let out a low whistle. "So...what does this mean for you, then? You really okay with this...?"

I turned the question over in my mind for a long moment. "I'm...still figuring it all out," I said, staring into my thermos. "...I think it was true when I said I never thought I wanted this. And when it actually happened, all I could think of was what other people might think. I didn't ask myself if I was unhappy with it." I felt my mechanisms chatter as I thought back on it. "But when I saw myself in the mirror...it was strange at first, but I didn't look in there and not see me. I'm still not sure why I'm as okay with this as I am, but...I don't hate it."

She nodded thoughtfully, and I considered it further. "I mean, I'm still me, at the core, even if I've changed in some ways; Emma put it that she was just a different 'me' now. And I'm not sure I get how it works that I'm me, but since I look like this, it means I belong to a different group now, if it even does. But...that was another thing where I was more worried about what people would think than what I thought. Like, there's all the social context I never grew up with, all the stereotypes that I don't know if they have a basis in reality, all that stuff, and..."

"...And, well, it felt like if I didn't measure up to what people would assume about me from my appearance, I was somehow being dishonest or deceitful just by being this." I sighed, thinking of all my confusing feelings about being a...a "doll," but continued. "But...I think Grace was right. Even if I don't get all that, when I think about how I feel about people seeing me that way...I guess I don't have a problem with it...?"

Tammy cocked an eyebrow and tried not to chuckle. "Y'know, you have a funny way of saying you like things."

"...I dunno," I said, whirring antsily. "I mean, if I am a...a girl...what does that mean for me...? It's not like I suddenly want to...to go out on a shopping spree at the mall or some damn thing, or paint my nonexistent nails, or-"

She couldn't suppress it anymore, and laughed outright. I balked at that, then thought about it and gave her an embarrassed half-smile. "You see what I mean? I feel silly trying to say that yes, I'm such-and-such, because there's all this insider knowledge I don't have and all these preconceptions I probably shouldn't, and I feel like I'll only make a fool of myself trying to pass for anything other than what I know. But...I'm not that anymore, so I'm stuck with figuring out what I am instead. It's a little confusing."

She chuckled softly, giving me a warm smile. "It's okay to take your time, y'know. It's not like this 'you' is going anywhere, unless you want it to."

"I suppose not," I murmured, mulling it over as I took another sip. She was right; unless I underwent another change, this was what I would be for the rest of my life. Somehow, that prospect didn't seem as intimidating as it had the other times I'd considered it.

Not that this form didn't have its difficulties and limitations, but I was used to dealing with them now, and...well, I'd be lying if I told myself it didn't feel kind of nice having my friends and loved ones wind me up; that gentle, subtle feeling of care and low-key intimacy was something I could only ever experience as this. And if I ever did discover some aspect of this that I just couldn't accept, the machine would always be there. But...honestly, the more I thought about it, the less I felt like I'd need it.

While I was pondering that, the door opened and Mom entered, carrying a bag with a couple takeout boxes. "It's still pretty bad out there," she said. "The delivery girl said even they're calling it a day. I don't think we ought to try to get home tonight."

Tammy nodded. "Well, we've still got a spare bed here. I'm not heading out until tomorrow morning, either; we can just make a night of it." She took the bag from my mother and set it on the desk, fishing out one box and checking to make sure it was hers. "Here," she said, handing the other one over.

They sat down to dinner, and I set my tea aside and took the opportunity to change. It'd escaped my notice while I was fretting over my mother's safety, but I was still wearing the outfit I'd thrown on that morning; and after running out into a blizzard and slogging through snow-covered streets, it was a bit cold and wet. At least it'd kept my own fabric covering from getting too damp, but I could use some fresh clothes all the same. I went to the closet, running over the options. The top from Emma was...not something I was ready for. There were the jeans and T-shirts, but...

My eyes kept coming back to it: the dress I'd gotten in the change. I hadn't worn it since; not because I really disliked it, so much as that it was a stark reminder of everything I was afraid to face. But on its own merits...it wasn't overly frilly, just a simple, understated black dress with white trim, like a less old-timey version of that outfit of Anne's. I...I didn't hate it, and it was tailored around my key...plus, it had that extra under-layer ("slip," that was the term,) which might make it warmer...?

I felt a little self-conscious as I took it off the hanger - but the hell with it. I slipped it on and buttoned it up around my key-shaft, took a moment to straighten it out, and checked my work in the mirror; yes, that was about right. I glanced at Mom nervously as I rejoined them, but she didn't seem bothered, just a little surprised. I made a fresh cup of tea - the stuff in the thermos was getting kind of lukewarm - and sat there together with them, savoring the aroma and the warmth.

We chatted quietly as they ate, but Mom kept glancing toward me as if she wanted to ask something but wasn't sure how to say it. Once they'd finished eating, she and I started clearing away the empty trays and plastic utensils, and Tammy sat back in her chair with a sigh. "Well," she said, "I guess we've, uh, got the evening free...not that there's much to do around campus just now."

"Yeah," I said, ticking softly away. With almost everybody gone, and most of the remainder hunkered down or enjoying their low-key private parties, we might as well just take the opportunity to have a quiet evening in...

Then Mom spoke up. "Ah, honey," she began uneasily, "if it's okay with you, since we've got the time, if...ah, if you're comfortable with it...can I, um..." She paused; I could tell she'd caught herself hemming and hawing. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, then glanced briefly at Tammy before turning her gaze back to me. "...I want to see you dance, honey."

It took me a moment to understand what she meant, but I remembered what Tammy had said last night, and I was suddenly all self-conscious again. I still felt strange thinking about the way I'd reacted with Tammy's family, at finding myself completely letting go and having something else take over, and I felt preemptively ridiculous at the thought of my mother seeing me that way, reduced to a...a puppet, a goddamn music-box dancer...

...except that wasn't right at all. I'd had ample opportunity to consider it at the Greenfields', and I'd never felt like the something else there wasn't me. It was more like...like some side of me that'd never been there before (or that I'd never noticed...?) taking the reins when I let it, not an insidious force wresting control of my body away. That was strange in itself, but I never felt like I was less than fully me when it happened, even if I did feel a bit silly afterward. And I'd had to get used to more than one new side of myself lately...

I still felt weird about showing that side of myself to Mom, still worried that it made me a weirdo somehow and I'd only make her uncomfortable exposing her to it. But she'd requested it, and I understood what she meant: she wanted to see me as Tammy had described, happy and...and free. She wanted me to be that way. But... "I, uh, don't know if we have enough room in here," I said hesitantly, something scraping awkwardly inside me.

Tammy gave me a knowing look. "We can use one of the common rooms in the student union, y'know. It'll be totally dead in there."

"You, ah, don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable," Mom put in as Tammy wheeled over to her dresser, and I realized we were doing our little dance again. She was afraid of hurting me, but she couldn't hide that she really wanted to see me belonging somewhere, finding fulfillment in something; and I was afraid of making her uncomfortable, so I tried not to admit that...that I wanted to be seen.

"I, um...it's okay," I said, chattering as I made myself get past this hangup. "That...that sounds nice." She glanced at me, visibly wondering whether I was really okay with it. I gave her the best I could muster for an earnest smile, although I still felt a bit awkward about it; she brightened at that.

Then Tammy came back over, holding something...some little pile of fabric I didn't immediately recognize. "Uh, here you go," she said, offering it to me. "You're gonna want leggings on under that, just in case somebody does come by, and, uh, I don't have much use for mine anymore." She smiled warmly as I took them. "...Merry Christmas, Sue."

Mom got a strange look at that, but I was too busy working out what Tammy meant to think much of it; then I realized she was talking about my hemline. The wrap skirt Rhoda put me in went almost down to my ankles, but the dress - my dress - ended a little below the knee. I hadn't gotten terribly acrobatic with this before, but it was still conceivable that things might fling just a bit too high...

"Um, thanks," I said, whirring in mild embarrassment as I sat down and pulled the things on, feeling static crackle as the stretchy synthetic fabric slid against my felt "skin" and clung tightly to my legs. "Merry Christmas, Tammy."

I stood up and turned to my mother. She still had that strange look on her face; a warm, nostalgic look, but slightly confused as well. "You know," she said, as we headed out, "that's what I was going to name you, if..."

I couldn't hide a smile. "I know, Mom."

---

The campus had the anticipatory stillness of an empty theater about it as we made our way from the steam tunnels into the lower floor of the student union, as if we'd entered into a world that was still preparing to be, the sets not yet built and the actors all at home reading up for rehearsals. For reasons I couldn't understand, I was filled with nervous, restless energy.

We found ourselves one of the common rooms; it'd last been used for a lecture or something, and all the chairs were arranged in rows facing the far end, which was mostly clear. Yes, this would work just fine. I went up to the "stage" end, as Mom sat down in the front row and Tammy wheeled up next to her, took out my phone, and...

...and...what? I couldn't really panic anymore, but I found myself suddenly uneasy and unsure how to proceed. My inner workings churned as I ran through all the questions in my mind. How was I supposed to start? What should I play? Something from my parents' record collection? Or would that be too on-the-nose...? What kind of moves was I supposed to do? Did I even know any?

What was I even doing here? I wasn't a dancer, not a real one, I just...moved around to music. Was that really anything worth showing people? What if I screwed up? What if it wasn't what my mother wanted see? Could I really do this...?

Well...I couldn't not do it, now that we were here. Taking a deep breath and trying to steady myself, I hit the play button and set my phone down on the floor. I stood there, poised in a way that seemed sort of right for starting off, trying to think of what to do next. How had I ever done it...?

As the first notes of "The Cinema Show" tinkled out of my phone's rather underwhelming speaker, I felt a little frisson run through me and remembered: I hadn't done it, it just...happened. It wasn't something planned, it was what happened when I let go, surrendering myself to the things I loved and letting me be me. Already, I could feel part of myself following along to the music, getting caught up in it, wrapped up in its emotions...yes, that was it. Stop overthinking; just be.

The music grew and developed, and my movements became more natural, following smoothly along to its ebb and flow. I felt my tempo falling into sync with it, my mechanisms adding a new and unusual layer to the percussion section, accenting certain beats and filling in on empty spaces, my whole body in harmony with this sound I loved so much. I felt my metaphorical heart swell along with the music, a feeling of bliss filling me as the gentle, soaring guitar line took flight. Even the chintzy audio didn't bother me; I knew how it went, and it was playing in my head just as rich and full as I remembered it.

There was no sudden turn with this like what Tammy's family had sprung on me; just a gradual build-up into an exuberant climax, and then a gentle wind-down into a melancholy coda. As it faded into silence, I felt myself coming back down to earth; no longer caught up in reverie, but transitioning back into my normal mode of thinking. But before I was quite through, for reasons I wasn't sure of, I closed out...whatever I'd just been doing with a full-fledged curtsy.

I stood back up, feeling mildly embarrassed, and turned to my mother. She was visibly starting to tear up, and I could hear her trying not to choke up when she said, "That...that was beautiful, S...Susan."

Part of my brain wanted to get bogged down in analyzing what that meant - could anything about me be truly described that way? Wasn't this more like how everyone's childhood crayon scribbles end up on their parents' fridge? It doesn't mean they actually measure up as an artist... - but I couldn't keep myself from feeling good about it. I felt my whole system humming happily away, a sheepish grin on my face.

"Well," Tammy said, fiddling with her phone, "that oughta keep Emma off my back for a little while."

"Eh?" I said, slightly confused. "Is she bugging you?"

She laughed. "She's been texting me non-stop this whole time; I'm not sure she even slept last night. I had to turn the notifications off."

"So much for all that gloating she promised," I chuckled. "What'd she want?" There was a whir and a click as I put two and two together. "Wait, were...were you recording that?"

"She'd never forgive me if I didn't," Tammy said apologetically. "She never knew it was a thing with you until I mentioned it last night; I guess it just never came up. She couldn't figure out whether to pester me more for the details on that, or how you two were doing."

For a moment, I wasn't sure how to feel about that; I could picture Emma getting all worked up over it, and thought back to the times where it felt like she couldn't get past herself and give me some space while I dealt with all this... But, hell, it was fine. I really did think she meant well, and as for me...it didn't matter what other people's take on all this was. I was happy, and Mom was happy to see me being happy, and that was enough. In fact...

I picked my phone up off the floor and turned back to my mother. "Uh, Mom," I began, holding it out, but hesitated. I'd felt weird enough about showing her this side of myself, but getting her involved? Oh, here I was, doing it again...I shook my head, brain clattering. No; this was okay. She wanted to see this. She wanted me to be happy. And it was okay to ask: "Would...would you pick the next one...?"

Her lower lip started to quiver, but she pulled herself together and smiled warmly. "Of...of course," she said, taking it from me. A moment later, the iconic bassline introduction to "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" began; out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tammy's fingers following along. And for the rest of the evening, I lost myself in enjoyment, swept up in a torrent of shared emotions.

---

The sun shone brightly when I woke the next day. The air was still and hushed, inside and out; there was only the quiet ticking of a clock, except the clock was me. Frost ferns glimmered on the window-panes. I felt both relaxed and refreshed - like when you awaken from a long-overdue nap no longer exhausted, but not really wanting to leave the comforting warmth of your bed either.

But I remembered the prior morning, and I had to get up and confirm for myself that, yes, my mother was safe and sound in my bed (I'd taken Emma's.) She was still fast asleep; fatigue had finally gotten to her later into the evening, and I'd had to lend her my shoulder as we walked back to the dorm room. Well, that was okay - after all, she'd hauled me all the way back from downtown. I was a bit run down myself, though; fortunately, Tammy was up and available to wind me.

While she did, I thought back to what she'd said previously. Was it really alright to depend on other people? Did it not make me a burden to others? Or if I was, was that okay? Was this really a way for other people to show that they cared for me...? I wasn't sure. I still felt a bit awkward about it, however nice it felt, and maybe down the line we'd figure out some way for me to be a little more independent. But Tammy was right: everybody needs some kind of help from others...

There was still some time to kill once Mom rolled out of bed; Rhoda wasn't due to pick her sister up until noon. And two of us were hungry, so we ended up trekking down to the diner, now that the streets were clear. My elderly friend was there, which led to yet a third round of introductions; Mom had never met him and Tammy had only seen him in passing (and heard the rest from Emma and I.) He gave me a knowing look when he saw me in the dress, but funnily enough I didn't feel that awkward about it.

While Mom and Tammy ate, he and I talked about what I'd been through and how I felt about it. Eventually, his granddaughter showed up, and he had to excuse himself to go spend Christmas with the family (or at least the local branch.) When we'd finished up, we returned to campus to meet Rhoda; she was eager to drag me along with them, but for the first time in a long, long while, I actually had somewhere to be.^*

^* (She did make me promise to come visit, undoubtedly so she could rope me into more LARP/costume shenanigans. But I didn't mind, especially if it meant getting to hear the family band again.)

And finally we went home, Mom and I.^* Christmas was...well, complicated; all of my relations had last seen me human and male, and not everyone knew what to make of the new me. There were some uncomfortable conversations, but Mom was there for me, and she had a knack for keeping people in line without having to say anything. Not everybody was awkward about it, either; my cousin's kids were almost as fascinated by me as Eve had been. And, really, it was a relief just to have it out there...

^* (And Lucky.)

More important than the festivities, though, was our time together. Neither of us quite knew how to make this work; we'd had enough trouble as mother and son, let alone mother and daughter. But for the first time in ages, we were actually communicating - able to speak freely, and to actually listen to each other. We were still a bit stiff and awkward; but it was a step in the right direction, and that was more than enough of a present for both of us.

Emma did get around to gloating, eventually, once she'd sated her curiosity about me and Mom. She was also ecstatic about getting to see me dance, and it had not escaped her notice that I'd been wearing the dress; her reaction to that was predictable, and I knew she was going to drag me back up to the mall, by force if necessary. In exchange, she sent me a photo of herself out riding, one hand on the reins and the other clutching her head. Despite her suggestion, I didn't show it to Mom.

Before we knew it, the holidays were over, and it was back to campus, back to class, and back to hitting the books. It was probably good that I had to hit the ground running; it kept me from overthinking things when I had classes to juggle on top of coming to terms with how I felt about what'd happened to me. Sure, I still drew more attention than I'd like, but I'd had to get used to that, and I had my friends on campus to rely on when I needed it.

It was back to working with Grace, too; the engineers she was working with were too intrigued by my inner workings to let a little thing like Christmas vacation keep them off the job, and while they didn't have much in the way of answers yet, they had a pile of additional questions - meaning more scans, more tests, and a lot more discussion. That, at least, I really didn't mind; while her own circumstances were very different from mine, it helped to have someone who really understood much of what I was going through.

Getting to talk to Eve didn't hurt, either. She writes me as often as she can from within her little world, and we talk face-to-borrowed-face whenever Grace can spare the time, with her asking endless questions about myself and the world outside her little microcosm, and me just enjoying her company. (Funnily enough, she wasn't upset or perturbed when I told her the truth about myself; maybe to someone who can change "skins" as naturally as breathing, it's not such a strange idea.) I don't know when it'll be, but I can't wait to finally meet her in person.

I did end up switching majors. I had to scramble over the summer session to get accepted into the program, but as one of the school's two wholly unique demi-human students and a research subject working with a major university, I had just a bit more leverage than I otherwise might've. I'm glad I did; it's been challenging making up for lost time, but the chance to do fulfilling work in a field that interests me is more than worth it. (And it's not as if my aptitude for math and science has no application.)

And Gil and Tammy have been very patient with me as I sort out my identity and what I feel comfortable with; I'm not sure what will or won't come of it, but I'm grateful that they're willing to wait and give me the time I need. Even now, I'm still figuring some stuff out, but I feel like, with each passing day, I'm getting more comfortable with what I am now. I may not have asked for this, or thought I wanted it; but I think I can be happy with it.

The problem with college is that nobody can truly tell you what you're supposed to be. That's because the problem with life is that nobody can figure out for you who you are; you have to find that out yourself. For far too long I was just marking time, aimlessly making my way through a life I'd let other people plan out for me because I couldn't admit to myself that I did have feelings of my own, let alone act on them.

But now I'm finally making a start.