The Crossing

Author's Note: Okay, this was originally written after #49, before #50 and all the rest of them. I've rewritten it, so, um, yeah, please read and review, tell me what you think. Please read note at the bottom when you have finished reading. Thank you!


Prologue - Tobias

People can be strange sometimes, you know? Strange in the way they act. Strange in the way they speak. Strange in the way they interact with other people. But sometimes, the strangest things to see are the things that you think are the most normal. Like your aunt. Like your cousin. Like your sweet old grandma. Or the two most influential people in your lives – whether you like it or not –your parents.

Or yourself.

But sometimes the strangest thing to see is yourself. Or yourself that isn't really you, but another you.

A different you. An alternate you. Like from a different dimension. A completely different reality. You as if you had had a different life. You with a different personality. A you who might be stronger, or weaker, or exactly the same. You as if you had made a different decision at one of those crossroads in your life. If you had gone left instead of right. North instead of south.

If your father had or hadn't returned from a battle in a far-flung quadrant of the galaxy…


I am an Animorph. You know the story behind the Animorphs by now. You know of the Yeerks. You know how we got the power to morph from the Andalite War-Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul, as he lay dying in that abandoned construction site.

And you know the stories of most of our more major missions during the War. You know quite a bit about our personal lives, our personal struggles, which we experienced during the war.

But you don't know everything.

Particularly about me.

I never really knew my parents. I can thank the Ellimist for that. The Ellimist –or Toomin, as he called himself as a youth – removed my father, none other than the Andalite War-Prince Elfangor, from the planet, and took him back to the great war between the Yeerks and the Andalites. After doing that, he then erased all memory of my father from my mother's mind.

So I never really had a normal family. When I first learnt who my father was – from a sleazebag Controller of all people – I was stunned. How could Elfangor – a strong, brave Andalite War-Prince, be the father of someone as weak and pathetic as me? I mean, at first, I felt like laughing it off. It had to be some sort of cruel joke.

But inside, deep inside my heart and soul, I knew it was true. I knew that Elfangor truly was my father. I remembered that night at the construction site, when my dying father had asked me about my mother and myself. About my life. I remembered the pained look on his face that had appeared when I told him all about it, in a lot more detail that was ever revealed.

Your mother…tell me about your mother, Tobias. Your family.

"She…disappeared a few years ago. I don't what happened – why it happened. I guess she died. People say she left because she was messed up. They say she never got over my father…" he had looked distressed all of a sudden. "…I don't know. But I know she has to be dead because she never would have left me like that. No matter what." He smiled sadly. "But maybe that's just what I told myself. I don't exactly have a family." I hung my head then, on the verge of tears. It was stupid to cry. Really stupid to cry in front of an alien who, particularly after that little speech from me, probably thought I was the most pathetic creature he had ever seen.

I had raised my eyes to look at the fearless Andalite again, expecting to see a look of disgust – or worse, pity – crossing his features. But I saw none of this. But I saw an emotion that could only be described as one thing.

Grief.

"You must be sad to be dying away from your family." I babbled all of a sudden. The Andalite's eyes seemed to fill with moisture.

Good move, Tobias, I chided myself. Make this powerful, grief-stricken alien cry while he's dying. He's probably going to slice you in half now with that tail of his.

I kept on babbling, trying to get myself to stop talking, but my mouth just kept on going, as if it had a mind of it's own.

"It's just Jake said he saw a hologram of you, your wife and your two kids in your ship."

The Andalite looked directly at me with his glimmering green eyes, looking more grief-stricken than ever. I only have one child. he said softly. A son.

"Oh!" I said quickly. "So was the little girl in the picture your niece or something?" I asked him.

The Andalite smiled at me with his eyes. No. The hologram your friend saw was of my parents, and the two children were my sister, Gratania, and myself, when my sister and I were both much younger.

That stunned me. "Oh!" I said, for the second time in about twelve seconds. "I'm sorry, it's just when you said it was a picture of your family I thought-"

That is quite understandable. he said, smiling again.

When I went home that night, I felt so saddened by the death of the Andalite that I cried myself to sleep. It had been a long time since I had done that.

And I remember, after narrowly escaping death via torture received from Sub- Visser fifty-one, after I had only survived due to my father coming to me while I was dying, I had more strange dreams. My father was in all of them. He told me he loved me. That he had come to Earth to protect me.

I cried and yelled at him "Why? Why did you sacrifice yourself for me? I'm worthless!" I screamed.

He turned into a Human at this point. Into a man that looked very much like me. "I would do anything to protect you, Tobias. You mean the world to me."

His voice, his Human voice, was basically the same as his thought-speak voice. And it was so familiar…as if I could remember hearing it from long, long ago…

I had often wondered what I would be like if I had grown up with my father there. Raised by my mother and father, instead of a much-married aunt and an alcoholic uncle. Would I have turned out a stronger, better person under my parents' influence? I always thought so. I mean, Ax thought that my father – who also happened to be his brother – was a fabulous person, very kind, very patient. And, on top of that, my father was a great hero. A war hero with many honours.

I mean, how could his child not be a good person?

How could his one and only child be as pathetic as me?

Surely I wouldn't have been such a loser if my father had been there? I would have been different. Stronger. Braver. I would have been different!

Wouldn't I?

Author's Note: well, what do you think? Of those who read the old version of this, do you think this one's better? A little strange, I know, as per usual. Please Review and tell me what you think! And toss any ideas, complaints or corrections in there too! Feedback is always appreciated! Send any thoughts, ideas and etc to nova_mist@yahoo.com Thanks!