A/N: I needed a bit more magic in my life sooo I decided it would be super cool (though I'm sure this is going to end up super weird) to write a magical story for MitM.
This takes place sometime during season 7 ('cause it's the most recent one I've watched).
I haven't written a fanfic for years-or any normal story for that matter-so I apologize if this is hard to follow or if the characters are all incredibly OOC.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the MitM characters or anything else related to MitM.
Dewey yawned. It was morning and he had to leave for school in about an hour. When he reached for the covers, he noticed something was wrong.
"What happened?" he asked groggily, taking the covers fully off himself. The covers were soaking wet as well as his pajamas. He sighed.
Hopefully it won't take too long to dry this off. He jumped out off bed and glared at his sleeping brothers, starting to plot some sort of revenge in his mind. He walked over to the bathroom and closed the door, proceeding to grab a towel and dry himself off.
Outside the door he heard his brothers rumbling around, starting to wake up. He rubbed himself vigorously, soaking one of the towels and having to grab a second one.
I wonder why I didn't wake up? he wondered to himself, you would think that having water splashed all over yourself-
"Dewey!" Malcolm yelled, interrupting Dewey's thoughts, "Why did you get your side of the bed wet? That's gross!"
"Oh, he got it wet, huh?" Reese asked, a big grin on his face, "Is there something you aren't telling us Dewey?"
Dewey groaned. So they poured water all over him and are now trying to pretend they didn't do anything to him? That sounds about right.
"Hey, mom!" Reese called out, "Dewey has something new to tell you!"
"Shut up, Reese!" Dewey called from the bathroom, almost drying himself off completely. He shrugged it off and walked into the bedroom, grabbing clean clothes to change into.
"What were you doing?" Malcolm inquired, grabbing clothes to get ready himself.
"What do you mean what was I doing? What were you doing?" Dewey replied angrily.
"Nothing," Malcolm shrugged, "what are you getting at?"
Dewey stared at them suspiciously. If they weren't the cause of this, then what really happened?
Lois entered the room, opening her mouth to say something to her boys only to shut it when she noticed the wet floor.
"Dewey, why is you side of the floor all wet? Did you take a shower this early?"
Dewey sighed.
"I honestly have no idea," he replied, still suspicious of his two brothers.
"Well, okay then, but you all need to start getting ready now, don't want to be late for school." With that, Lois left the boys to finish getting ready.
"You better get this mess cleaned up," Malcolm warned his brother, "I don't want to come back to a wet bed."
Me neither, thought Dewey, hoping it would all just dry up within a few hours.
The rest of the day went normally, Dewey having no problems of spontaneous wetness. When he came home after school, things began to get weird again. He didn't have a problem with spontaneous full body dehydration, but small droplets of water kept dripping out of his hands. If he had just exercised a few minutes earlier, he would have assumed it was just sweat. But just out of his hands?
What is going on? Dewey thought, Is this some sort of weird disease or something? It better stop soon or mom will get suspicious. Can't have that happening.
He entered into the kitchen where he saw Lois hoisting Jamie into the chair.
"Alright boys, dinner!" Lois yelled out towards the hall, proceeding to grab the plates of food to place on the table.
Dinner this early? Dewey headed towards his bedroom, ready to put down his backpack, but I'm not really that hungry.
He entered the room and looked towards his side of the bed. A slight smile rose on his lips when he noticed that his side of the bed was completely dry. Just a few hours and the problem dealt with itself.
"Hey Dewey," Reese greeted him, "have any...unusual problems at school today?"
"No," Dewey replied simply, setting his backpack down on the ground and leaving the room quickly.
"He's acting suspicious," Reese said out loud to himself, "I wonder what's going on?"
"Going on with what?" Malcolm entered the room, "Mom has dinner ready we better get out there before she yells at us again."
"Malcolm, do you think that Dewey's entering another life stage?" Reese asked, "Molting his skin, gonna change into another animal soon?"
"What in the world are you talking about?" Malcolm sat down on his side of the bed, "That doesn't even make any sense, humans can't do that."
"But Dewey's been acting weird," Reese replied, "All that water coming out of him. I'll bet he's purposefully dehydrating himself so that it'll make the transformation easier."
Malcolm rolled his eyes and left the room. Reese remained seated on his bed, further contemplating about his younger brother.
"I wonder what kind of animal he's going to become?" Reese's thoughts were interrupted by another yell of his mother. Sighing, he left the room and entered the kitchen.
"So, Dewey, how was school today?" Lois asked, unusually happy.
"Fine," Dewey replied, separating the food into smaller portions. He wasn't at all hungry, but maybe he could trick his stomach into accepting a bunch of little pieces of food.
"Do anything special?" Lois went on.
"Nope," Dewey replied.
"Oh, well, we did something special today," Lois perked up, "there was a vote for the most productive worker at the Lucky Aide and guess who won it?"
"Craig?" Malcolm asked.
"No, Malcolm, me!" Lois replied sharply, "Isn't that exciting? Apparently there are no actual rewards associated with it, but I get my name on that plaque."
"Good for you, honey!" Hal exclaimed, "I wish I could say the same thing about my work."
"So mom," Reese spoke up, "what are you going to do about Dewey's transformation?"
Lois, Dewey, and Hal gave Reese perplexed looks while Malcolm groaned.
"Reese, it's not a transformation," Malcolm informed his brother.
"I've been thinking about it a lot Malcolm," Reese said, "and I'm pretty sure that this time I'm right."
"What are you two talking about?" Hal asked.
"Dewey woke up this morning soaking wet," Reese smiled, "it's his way of releasing his bodily fluids so he can transform into a different animal."
"Dewey, how did that happen?" Lois inquired, ignoring Reese's conclusion.
Dewey sighed. "Like I said earlier, I honestly have no idea."
"Well, son, that is a bit odd," Hal pointed out, "unless of course one of your brothers wants to own up to doing this to you."
"We didn't do anything!" Malcolm exclaimed.
"He's right," Reese said, "we're just passive onlookers to this almighty magic."
"Reese, cut it out," Lois snapped, then turned to Dewey, "Could it have been Jamie? Oh, what am I saying, Jamie's too young to do something like that."
"Maybe a leak in the ceiling?" Hal suggested, even though they hadn't had rain for several weeks.
"I went to bed completely dry," Dewey explained, "and didn't wake up until this morning. Something happened last night but it didn't wake me up. Does that make any sense?"
The others appeared to be deliberating about the situation. For a few moments there was silence until Hal spoke up.
"Honey, do you think he's getting sick?" Hal directed his question towards Lois.
"You know, it's possible," Lois nodded, "though I've never heard of such weird symptoms. Do you have any more, Dewey?"
"No," he said quickly, looking down at his hands, "well, actually I have been having some water come out of my hands." He shook his hands and a few small droplets fell out of the palms.
"Oh, well that's nothing, sweetie," Lois told him, "if you wake up all wet again honey we'll take you to the hospital."
"Okay," Dewey shrugged before dismissing himself from the table. He really lost his appetite after that discussion
It had begun to get dark and Dewey's eyes began watering.
Great, he thought, it's traveled from my hands to my eyes.
He continued working on his homework but soon found it difficult to see. Water was building up in his eyes and clouding his vision.
"What is going on?" he mumbled frustratedly, walking over to the bathroom. He grabbed one of the towels and held it to his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.
Moments later, Hal entered the bathroom. He was about to tell Dewey to get out when he noticed Dewey's head in a towel.
"Oh, honey," Hal went over and knelt down next to his son, "it's okay to cry. Strange things happen all the time but I have to admit, this might be one of the strangest!"
"Dad, I'm not crying," Dewey pulled the towel down and looked towards Hal, "I just have the water coming out of my eyes, that's all."
"It's okay to admit you're sad, Dewey," Hal went on, "I would be sad too if I thought I had an irreversible, fatal disease that onset suddenly with no signs of disappearing anytime soon."
"That's not it at all," Dewey insisted, "it's just hard to see. It's getting on my nerves."
"Yes, Dewey, I've cried before, and I'll admit I have found it hard to navigate. But don't you worry, son, we'll find a way to get you seeing again!"
Dewey rolled his eyes, getting up and heading towards his bedroom. It was a bit early to go to sleep, but he couldn't do much in the meantime anyway.
He flopped himself on the bed and suddenly realized it might get wet again. Rolling off the bed, he stumbled towards the bathroom and tried grabbing several towels to line his side of the bed with. When he found a few, he walked back and threw them on the bed in a messy fashion, then jumped on.
After arranging himself comfortably, he closed his eyes and went to sleep, hoping he wouldn't have to deal with these strange symptoms another day.