Smurfette confined herself to her bedroom for three days. No one except Hefty was allowed in, and soon even Hefty was afraid to approach her. He sat outside on the stoop, not sure what to do next or if anything would make any difference anymore.
"Hefty!" Brainy stumbled up, out of breath. "I sm...smurf of your time."
For once, Hefty readily agreed. "What is it, Brainy?"
"I wish to see Smurfette."
He sighed. "I don't know, Brainy. She's got a lot on her mind."
"Well, does she want to see what I discovered?" Brainy asked.
"About the baby and the...yeah, I think so. And, if she smurfs out, you could get more information, right?"
Brainy shrugged. "Possibly."
"I'll take what I can smurf." He rushed back inside and up the stairs, knocking softly on Smurfette's door. "Smurfette, can I come in?"
He heard her say yes, so he stepped inside. She hadn't moved since he'd woken up that morning. She was still in her nightgown, in fact. He sucked in a nervous breath.
"Smurfette, Brainy is outside."
"What does he want now?"
He sat down beside her. "He wants to see you, to help you. Smurfette, we might be able to fix this. I know I can't understand what you're going through but...maybe learning more about it can help."
She sighed, rolling onto her side. "Can I sleep first?"
Hefty nodded, kissed her, and left the room. Smurfette gripped the sheets. She knew Hefty was trying, but she could feel whatever was inside her growing. It mocked her. She wished she had just stayed inside that day and left well enough alone. But she couldn't change what had happened. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
"Hi, Smurfette."
She gasped, whirling around. The Smurf behind her flinched, his face getting whipped by her long hair.
"Oh my smurfs! I'm so sorry!"
The Smurf chuckled. "It's okay. I shouldn't have sneaked up on you like that."
She glanced at his attire. Leather jacket, green flannel, a woolen cap. He was dressed almost like Timber, but he looked exactly like Hefty. She stared at him.
"What?"
"Sorry. Sorry, it's just...you look exactly like my husband."
To her surprise, he snickered. "I get that a lot."
She furrowed her brow. "What are you - "
He started down the hill. "Wanna walk for a minute?"
She hesitated, but obliged and let him lead her down the hill. She glanced at him a few times. She was sure it was Hefty's face. But, then, why was he dressed like he was camping? She awkwardly cleared her throat.
"Excuse me, but who are you?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
She slowed her pace, confused. "I mean, what's your name?"
He shrugged. "I don't have one."
"What?!" she exclaimed.
He continued down the hill, leaving her a few paces behind. "Well, not yet anyway."
"Wait!" She ran to catch up with him. "What do you mean you don't have a name? You have to be smurfed something!"
He shook his head. "Nope. I'm nameless, for now."
For now? That made no sense. He sat down in the grass, offering a seat next to him. She knelt down, watching the trees. The wind slipped through her hair, and she relaxed.
"I'm sorry for being all mysterious, Smurfette," he said. "But, you know why you're here."
"Because something bad is about to happen," she answered.
"No," he said. "Because something challenging is about to happen."
"What?" She turned to face him. "What are you smurfing on about? Who are you and how do you know me? Why are you in my dreams?!"
He sighed. "I'm here to talk about her." He pointed down the hill.
She followed the direction of where he was pointing. A small figure with short, tawny blonde hair was kneeling in the flowers, a white cloak over her shoulders. She had met that Smurfette before.
"You know her?"
He nodded. "She's my sister."
Smurfette started to stand, but the Smurf grabbed her wrist. "No, don't. She's resting right now."
She sat back down and stared at the figure in the distance. "I don't understand."
"Well, she's scared."
"Of what?"
"Of everything. She fears what will happen if she talks to you, approaches you, tries to hug you..."
"But why would she want that?" Her mind boggled in confusion. "I don't understand! Smurf to me, Smurf! What are you trying to tell me?"
He stared at her with the same gaze Hefty had, but her eyes looked back at her.
"I can't influence your choice. But, whatever you decide to do, you can't go back." He stared at the figure at the bottom of the hill. "I know she's my sister, as much as I know that you're my mother."
Smurfette gasped, gripping the sheets. Thumping from the stairs grew louder, and the door flew open.
"Smurfette? Are you alright?" Hefty stood in the doorway.
She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."
"Another nightmare?"
She shook her head. "No...but, I think..."
He took her by the arms and helped her out of bed. "Come on. Let's go to Brainy's. He can help us out."
She laid on the bed, Brainy probing her stomach. He stared attentively at the screen, searching closely. Hefty stood uncomfortably by his wife while Papa and Smurfwillow insisted that they attend. But Smurfette's mind was focused on her dream. Had she really met her son? But she didn't even know him yet. How could it have been?
Brainy turned the screen so the couple could see. "Your little smurfling seems to be progressing well. Unfortunately, so has the mass."
"What does that mean?" Hefty asked.
"Well..." Brainy dug through his files. "I was able to collect a sample from her womb - "
"You did what?!"
"And, it seems as though the spell Gargamel cast on the clay was only half-finished. The rest is being filled with Smurf DNA."
Smurfette pondered. Did that make this thing a real smurf? But, then again, she was also a ball of clay once, and now she is a real smurf.
"So, is it a smurf?" Papa asked.
Brainy shrugged. "Smurfette was a lump of clay once. Is she a Smurf?"
"Brainy!" Hefty snapped.
"Well, whatever it is," Smurfwillow stepped in. "It was made by Gargamel. It can't be good if it's born."
Smurfette sat up. "Wait, what?" Hefty guided her back down, Papa standing uneasily behind Willow. Brainy wheeled over in his chair.
"Smurfette, um...we've been smurfing about some way to remove the mass inside you."
Smurfette was silent. She had been traumatized by what she'd experienced. This thing was tearing her life and village apart. but, then, why did she feel so conflicted about it?
"Now, don't worry. It won't harm the baby. It's a simple spell that'll extract the foreign material and leave the real baby Smurf to grow."
"The real baby smurf?" she asked.
Papa pushed his way forward. "Smurfette, if I may."
Willow rolled her eyes. "Papa Thing, we talked about this."
"About what?" Smurfette demanded. "Why are you guys smurfing behind my back?"
Papa sighed. "Smurfette, when you came to the village, you were set on our destruction. But, we didn't give up on you and look at you now! You've grown into a brave, smart, courageous Smurfette. Shouldn't you smurf that chance to the other baby?"
"How can you call it a baby?" Smurfwillow asked. "It was forced into her!"
Smurfette covered her ears, rolling on her side to avoid the argument. She glanced at the monitor, but caught herself staring at it. She noticed that between the two outlines, their hands were connected. They were holding hands.
Hefty's voice broke through the arguing. "All of you stop it! This is Smurfette's problem, not yours!"
"Hefty," Smurfwillow sighed. "We're all thinking of her and the village's best interests."
Hefty helped Smurfette to her feet, pulling her dress down. "You're upsetting her either way! Come on, hon."
He led her outside. She glanced over her shoulder at the image. Could it be that the little lump of clay inside her was her baby too? She couldn't think about that! She had to think of what was best for everyone. And, that meant she had to get rid of it. She gripped her abdomen, shame growing in her chest.