The early hours of day in the outside in Monster side of New Jersey, a young boy no older than ten was laying on the ground outside the front of the house he and his parents recently moved into over a week ago, his small limps stretched out along the long green grass, it felt bumpy underneath his back. His eyes that matched the colour of the red and orange beams in the sky welcoming the sunrise were closed, he breathed in slowly through his lips, waiting. Waiting for something. Anything.

The sun was getting higher. He can see the light getting brighter behind his eye lids.

A feeling of warmth started to build up inside his chest, it was growing throughout the rest of his body.

He knew this feeling, it began every single ray of dawn meeting this side of the universe for as long as he could remember. He didn't know why, but every time he always felt like a part of him was going to a deep slumber, like the heroes and the princesses in the stories his mother would read to him when he was bored and she couldn't sleep. He never was really interested in that sort of stuff, but he always loved listening to his mother's voice when he could. It was like a soft rhythm to a song he always listens to, and he would never get bored. It smoothed him and made him feel happy.

The boy yawned. He was getting sleepy, but he never felt sleepy during the night; always at dawn.

But wait, it wasn't what he wanted! He didn't want to go to sleep, yet!

But no matter what he thought or tried, he couldn't stay awake. Sleep met him just as the sun beamed light over the small neighbourhood. It felt like the world stopped working. He couldn't even think as he finally saw it. The reason he came out here in the first place. Even with his eyes closed, a bright light flashed through his body and mind, as if it was twisting and changing him, in a way.

It was like a ghost had entered and left his body in one second, only to be replaced with another. Like someone wanted to take control. Then, he was gone. Only to be woken by his worried dad and the other version of his mother. But he wasn't focusing on his parents and their questions asking if he was okay, because, once again like every other morning, he was questioning what happened to himself, everything he had been doing for the last few hours.

It felt like a dream, but it was too far to grasp, but it was there. All he could remember was the sunrise.

That night it began again.

He just woke up, he must have been writing or drawing because he was laying on his back on his bedroom carpet floor, paper and different coloured pencils scattered around him. The sun was long gone outside as the moon took its place in the sky. The moon's light was shining through his bedroom window.

The door cracked opened by an inch, it was only seven 'o'clock which would mean mom would have been still out at work until 8:30.

An hour and thirty minutes left.

An older and deeper voice startled him out of his thoughts, "Holt?"

Turning away from the hallway clock and to the direction of the voice, he made his way towards the older Fire Elemental, his grip on the door handle let go.

"Y… Yeah?" His voice was high pitched and quiet, something the older noticed he only did when he was confused or upset. Tim bend onto one knee to meet the boy's eyes, concerned written on his pale-yellow face, "are you alright, son?"

Holt bit his lip, hesitating whenever or not he should tell the older man his thoughts. Would he think of them as stupid, or something?

"D… Dad?" Holt was hunching ever so slightly, his arm griping onto his other tight.

"I…" He paused, "Is there something wrong with me?"

Tim's heart was breaking for the boy; he wished he could just tell him everything. To hold him in his arms and tell him everything will be okay.

Tim swallowed a lump in his throat, a half smile upping the corners of his lips. Hold your ground, man.

"No. Of course not."

Some part of Holt probably knew he was lying, but if his dad said he was alright, then he'll take that answer…

Footsteps were coming down stairs in a hurry. Tim turned his head to smile at his now teenaged son set himself in the seat between he and Sydney at the breakfast table. Jackson stopped himself for a moment, the steam of the freshly made eggs and bacon fogging his glasses.

"… Did you know that Holt and I were the same person?" He asked, looking between the both, his dark eyebrows frowned.

Standing up from her spot at the table and gathering hers and Tim's now empty plates, Sydney surprisingly sound calm.

"Well, of course we knew you and Holt were the same person-we're your parents; now finish your breakfast or you'll be late for school." Then she turned to the sink to wash the dishes. Jackson was looking at him now, he took a deep breath though his nostrils.

"Yeah, what your mother said." He was speechless, because honestly, he was very happy that after fourteen years of predicting how this would have turned out was better than he thought (well, sixteen years if you count all the long restless nights wondering what would happen if his son had another side and how he, Sydney and Lyla would have that conversation).

When Jackson had one day messaged Holt of the events of their parents' reaction, Holt simply replied,

'lol ;)'