Previous stories in the series include Hairy Situations and Situational Hair and Midst of Rough Earthliness. I suggest reading those first if you want to have any hope of understanding this story. ;)
(Booster/Beetle slash.)
---------------
1st Chapter
A disappointing lack of zombies.
-----
Michael Theodore Carter-Kord, otherwise known as Junior, had little in the way of life experience, having been magically created at the age of approximately fourteen, the genetic offspring of two men. However, he was inexperienced and naive, not stupid. And with the uniqueness of his limited upbringing, he had some ability to recognize magic.
For instance, in his experience magic was often accompanied by a big flash of light.
So when he saw one such flash of light coming from the basement where his parents were, he immediately assumed that some sort of magic was being performed. Always willing to embrace life's experiences (since he had so much catching up to do), he started down the stairs to see what was going on.
He was sort of hoping for another zombie.
What he found was not even close.
---------------
The quote "Be careful what you wish for, it might come true" was probably not thought up with magical wish-granting objects in mind. Nor Benjamin Franklin's warning that "If a man could have half his wishes, he would double his troubles," Jenny Holzer's prayer to "Protect me from what I want," or George Bernard Shaw's statement that "There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it."
Yet somehow these and similar quotes and sayings, snippets of wisdom and advice passed on through the years, entered every day conversational use.
Such things do not happen without reason.
And when taking wish-granting magical objects into account, these sayings become even more relevant.
For instance, wishing to better understand one's teenage son while touching one such object might very well have the effect of regressing one to the body of a teenager.
Unfortunately, it might also have the unexpected effect of regressing one's mind to those hectic, hormone-addled, formative years as well. As in the case of Michael "Booster" Carter and Theodore "Ted" Kord.
---------------
"Dad?" Junior called down the stairs, not bothering to clarify which one. They usually both responded, so he didn't see the need to waste time calling them individually.
The only response was a quiet groan. That might mean there was a new zombie, but it could also mean that one or both of his dads was a zombie. Junior wasn't sure how to feel about the second possibility, so he concentrated on examining the basement.
He had seen a horror movie marathon earlier that week and thought it would be pretty stupid, after such cautionary tales, to get his brains eaten by not being careful.
As he heard another groan, it occurred to him that it might also be kind of stupid to go looking for zombies without a weapon. He was consoled, however, by the fact that he was still right next to the stairs in case he needed to make a quick escape. Zombies, in his experience, were not good with stairs.
When the source, or sources, of the groans suddenly stood up, rubbing their heads and blinking in confusion, Junior could think of only one thing.
"Hey, you're not zombies!"
The black-haired, black clad teen looked up at him and frowned. "Duh."
"What happened? Where am I?" The shorter teen, brown-haired and wearing a Blue Beetle costume well-adjusted to his smaller size, turned to glance at the black-haired teen. "And why do I get the feeling it's your fault?"
"Um...quick rollcall," Junior said nervously. "Who are you?"
"Who're you?" The black-haired teen shot back.
"I'm Junior."
"Uh, Ted," said the boy in the modified Blue Beetle costume.
Frowning suspiciously, the black-haired boy crossed his arms over his chest. "Mikey."
Junior nodded slowly. "That's what I was afraid of." No matter what Ted had told him, Junior had always felt that the Sci-Fi channel was a good source of information about life. This incident only strengthened that belief.
"Afraid of? What's going on here?" Mikey demanded, his stance becoming defensive.
"What am I wearing?" Ted's voice rose in panic, having finally noticed the skin-tight suit. He hunched in on himself, hands hovering uncertainly as he tried to figure out what needed covered most.
"Um...it's a Blue Beetle suit--" Junior started, but was interrupted as Ted looked up at him in disbelief.
"Beetle! Why am I dressed like a bug!"
Mikey looked down at his own clothing, eyes widening as he realized it wasn't anything he recognized. He moved to stand in front of Ted and scowled at Junior, fists clenching. "What's going on? Is this some kind of...of sick game? I've heard about stuff like that."
"Game?" Junior's brow furrowed in confusion. "No, it's just magic. You're not supposed to..." He gestured vaguely. "Be like that. You're--eep!"
Shoving Junior against a wall, Mikey shook him by his shirt. "Where are we, kid?"
"You're kinda scary," Junior remarked, staring at him. "Um...my basement? You're in my basement. Lemme get Skeets and I'll fix everything."
"Skeets?" Ted tentatively asked as Mikey let go of Junior and stalked back towards him. Mikey seemed to have decided that he and Ted needed to stick together and slouched against the desk next to the boy.
"He's--" Junior stopped himself, his brain suddenly presenting him with an observation. Neither of his age-regressed parents seemed to remember him or their surroundings. In fact, they seemed to be mentally the same ages they were physically. So while saying Skeets was a robot or an AI might go down fine with Mikey, who was from the future and probably used to such things, Ted would probably be a harder sell. "Skeets is a friend. Really smart. Good at fixing problems. ...I'll go get him."
Neither Ted nor Mikey looked very inclined to trust him, but at least they stayed put while Junior hurried up the stairs. Turning on the communicator that he had kept with him since their fight with the OMACs, Junior said, "Skeets! We have a problem."
-----