I woke up the next morning safe and sound in bed.

I glanced down at my hands. Pink. Normal. "Hey, could it all have been a dream?"

I got up and walked into the bathroom-- and saw that I still had the face and ears of a Skrull. I was just pink.

"Or maybe not."

I shrugged, and turned green. "Okay. May as well shower now." I took my clothes off-- well, I tried to take them off anyway. "Um, heck. What's going on here? Why is my shirt turning into tar every time I try to take it off?"

And then I remembered: my clothes were alive.

"Okay. This is something that Dad definitely didn't tell me. Um, would you mind very much if I took you off now? I really do need to shower. Please?"

This time, my clothes were solid and I was able to remove them.

I quickly ducked into the shower.

Swell. I had to be the only teenager alive who was going to have to cajole his clothing into being taken off . . . well, the only teenager on Earth who had that problem, anyway….

I shifted back to human form before I put my clothes back on . . . and noticed that I seemed to be a little more buffed than I remembered. I still wasn't exactly Captain America, but I seemed to be in better shape than I had been two days ago. Kind of a nice side effect to the whole shape shifting business, I decided.

I put the chrisatback on and decided on what to wear. Rather, I decided what the chrisat was going to look like. I finally decided on just a variation of what I was wearing the day before with just a change in the color of the shirt to a darker blue. I'd never been a fashion plate and I didn't intend to start now.

"Peter! Breakfast is ready!"

I glanced in the mirror one more time to make sure my human face was on, and headed out of my bedroom.

"Your father had to leave early," Mom told me as she served me some pancakes. "I'm taking the day off from work-- to go over your test results. I should have them fully analyzed by the time you get home from school tonight."

"Great." I paused. In some ways, I blamed Mom for everything more than Dad-- it wasn't fair, I know, but I couldn't help myself. "Mom?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"How were you able to change me back to normal yesterday?"

"That isn't normal for you, Peter. You're not human, you know."

"You know what I mean."

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I just never thought this day would come-- and it's affecting me differently than I thought. I've never heard of a Skrull developing his abilities so late in life-- and I'm worried about you."

It hadn't occurred to me that there might be danger in what I had become, but I decided to put it out of my mind. I had to have faith in Mom and her ability to help me if I needed help. "It's just so weird, Mom-- you think you're one thing and then you find out you're not. It's going to take me some time to get used to the fact that I'm not human, that's all--"

"Peter, your lack of humanity doesn't make you any less a person. Skrulls aren't really that different in behavior from humans-- we laugh, we love, we hate-- we're not monsters."

"I know. It's just-- weird."

"I can't imagine what it's like to be you, Peter. When you were born-- we thought you would never be able to change shape. I convinced your father that it was more important that you feel normal than it was to expose you to your heritage. Maybe I was wrong in that. I don't know. I just wanted to spare you from being hurt--"

"Hurt?"

Mom took a bite from one of her pancakes. "In some ways, Skrulls can be a rather cruel race, Peter. There have been Skrulls who lack our ability to change shape-- throwbacks to a time before we were what we have become-- and they are treated as second class citizens." She paused. "They are considered defective."

"Freaks." I nodded. "I get it."

Mom winced. "I don't like that word, Peter."

"Sorry. You haven't answered my question, Mom. How were you able to make me change?"

"Biology. Skrulls children are not normally able to consciously shift shape on their own until they are about five Terran years old. In prehistoric times, Skrull mothers needed to be able to shift shape to escape wild animals or enemy tribes." She paused. "Peter, your father told you that our race was somewhat reptilian in nature, didn't he?"

"He said that we come from eggs."

"Exactly. Did it occur to you to wonder why a race of psuedo-reptiles would have females with breasts?"

"Um, no. And I'm not sure I really wanna know, Mom."

Mom smiled. "The breast milk of a human female provides its offspring with antibodies that help it live to maturity as well as nutrients required for growth. The breast milk of a Skrull female helps her establish a psychic link with her offspring-- a bond that allows the female to trigger the infant's shape shifting abilities before the child is able to control them itself."

"So you can control my power to change shape?"

"I have to be in physical contact, and it's an ability that diminishes with time. When you are a fully mature Skrull-- which should be a matter of months-- I won't be able to influence you at all."

"Well that explains it-- and in more detail than I really would have liked to hear."

Mom smiled. "You asked."

"Yeah, I did."

"What exactly has your father told you about your ability to change shape?"

I went over the various things that Dad had taught me.

Mom nodded. "He seems to have gone over the basics. Your father and I will do our best, but you may need more training than we can give you. We'll have to see what can be arranged."

"Training?"

She nodded. "There are Skrulls who are experts in the art of shape shifting-- who tutor children." She paused, and there was something about her expression that made me both nervous and sad. "They will have a great interest in you."

"I'm not sure I like the way you said that, Mom."

"The Skrull culture is different than this one, Peter. You will have to adjust to your heritage-- as they will have to adjust to you."

"I suppose." I thought for a moment. "Mom? I need to talk to you and Dad tonight. It's about something important. Can we do that? Can we talk?"

"We can always talk, Peter."

That was certainly news to me-- Mom had never exactly been Ms. Open Communication before-- but I wasn't about to say anything to her about that now. I had other things on my mind now.

Mainly, Roni. I didn't know what she would be up to at Roxxon, but I had a feeling that it wouldn't be something I would want her to have. I was going to have to talk to Mom and Dad about it-- but I wasn't going to talk just to Mom. I needed Dad there-- I knew that he would listen.

"Um, I gotta go to school now, Mom. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Have a nice day, Peter."

I nodded and turned to leave only to hear her say, "Peter?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"I am not human, but I am still your mother. And I love you-- just as much as your father does."

"Thanks, Mom."

There seemed to be nothing else to say. Mom and I had never really been the type to hug or excessively display emotion, so I did the only thing I could then:

I left.