A/N: Passages written in italics indicate a different POV.

Chapter 3:
I waited outside Fala D. Elementary School on pins and needles. It had been a month since I'd heard about NEATO's destruction and the injuries it had caused. Another month had passed thanks to nervous hesitation and legal trouble, but I was finally ready.
I was going to reclaim my boy.
A "RIIIING" from the school bell brought me out of my thoughts, and I began earnestly searching the faces of the children streaming from the school. One stood out from the rest...a boy with pale skin, a round face, and gingery hair. Leonard.
My son.
I watched Leonard glance around the school parking lot. Suddenly, the boy's gaze settled in my direction. His eyes lit up, and he broke into a run.
My heart leapt. Everything was happening just as I had fantasized. Soon, my child would be in my arms.
I took a step forward, ready to scoop up the boy...
But Leonard dashed right past me.
"Scott!"
"Hey Lenny!"
Leonard ran to a young man with dark hair. The two shared a warm hug, then walked off with their arms around each other.
I couldn't move; I was fuming.
How dare someone else hug MY boy?
How dare that interloper replace me?
How dare he?
A voice broke through my cloud of anger.
"Is that your child? I can certainly see the resemblance."
I spun around to face a scarred man wearing a white lab coat. Seeing that he had caught my attention, he went on:
"Ja, he has your strong jawline, your alabaster skin...a chip off of the old block."
He gave an exaggerated sigh and nodded toward the retreating figures of Leonard and the interloper.
"Such a pity, though: a promising youth like that, getting mixed up in bad company so young."
My blood ran cold.
"What do you mean, 'bad company,' Mr...?"
The man smirked.
"Doctor. Doctor Ivan Krank."

"So, how was school, Bunkie?"
I forced a smile to spread from ear to ear.
"Great! Everything is great! I'm totally fine."
"That bad, huh?"
My mask faded, and I sighed.
"Yeah. Whenever I pass by our old classroom, I can't help thinking of Mom. And I admit, I...I miss having you there."
It was true; as much as I had resisted Spot's desire to attend school, I had grown to enjoy spending so much time with him. Maybe I couldn't fully understand his desire to be a human instead of a dog, but, in hindsight, his dream didn't seem so wrong. Now, I just wished we could be equals again: acting the same age, being in the same class, sometimes boys, sometimes a boy and a dog...
A happy medium.
A compromise.
I couldn't help but wonder if Scott missed those days, too. Or did he like being human instead?
Sensing my inner conflicts, Scott scooted closer to me. I leaned into his broad shoulder.
"Thanks." I whispered.
We walked for a few minutes in companionable silence.
"So, how's the new job at the supermarket?"
"Well, it's less foul and menial than collecting garbage, and the pay is a bit better, but..."
Scott sighed. "I'll be honest, Leonard: money is going to be tight. I'm doing the best I can—working double shifts, overtime, everything!"
"I know, and it's ok. At least you could get a better job now, thanks to Ian."
He rolled his eyes comically.
"Yeah, but did Ian have to make my new identity that of a Swedish clam digger—who juggles chainsaws, no less?!"
"He didn't want you to be 'bourgeois!'"
"I was tempted not to pay him the two newts and jar of roaches!"
I made a face.
"I'm glad you decided to pay him in the end. Having those around the house was gross!"
"Well, I wouldn't want to have wasted the grueling—not to mention, repulsive—effort of gathering all those cockroaches!
We reached Scott's apartment, and unlocked the dingy door.
"Hey, Lenny, Spot!"
Pretty Boy swooped over and landed on my head.
"Would ya tell this meshuggeneh that ya can't have a plaid bedspread in a room with floral wallpaper?"
Mr. Jolly sat in a huff, tail snobbishly curled around his paws.
"No, tell that tasteless avian that mismatched patterns is a chic trend!"
"Who cares if it's a trend? It's hideous! The clash in that room makes me wanna hurl!"
Scott slapped his forehead.
"You two are still at odds over this trivial dispute? Honestly, your pettiness astounds me."
"Hey, we're tryin' to create a cozy home atmosphere, dog breath!"
Pretty Boy flew back to the kitchenette and picked up a wooden spoon in his talons. "Lenny, we're having quinoa! Grab a pot, will ya?"
"Sure thing!" I yelled back.
Meanwhile, Mr. Jolly had leapt onto the back of a chair, and was pawing at Scott's chin.
"Spot, I thought you said you were going to shave today. You look like a ruffian!"
"This IS shaved!"
He sighed dramatically. "My human body seems to grow hair at the speed of light—which is 299 792 458 meters per second, in case you were wondering."
There came a shout from the kitchenette: "Quit gabbing and get cooking, pupchik!"
I saw Scott shake his head. Dark curls waving, he muttered "home sweet home."
He was right. So what if my dog was a man, and my remaining family was living in a ratty, cramped apartment?
We had each other.

A/N: "Ja" is German for "yes."