Something slammed into her and Ro gasped in momentary pain, feeling as something defied gravity and hurled itself into her arms. Her eyes forced themselves open, watching the world spin around and pound, but settling onto a familiar set of baby blue wide eyes.

"Hi, Rwos!" a hand said as it waved in her face. Or perhaps not the hand, but the mouth.

Normally when faced with earth-shattering revelations, a person at least blinks to see if the world will suddenly to change back to the way it should be. Ro couldn't even do that when faced with what was staring up at her with absolute adoration in her arms. Her knees trembled and behind the head the background swam.

"Zee?" she whispered, mouth dry with that hint of pre-vomit everyone loathes.

The figure nodded as he hugged her tightly, and it was Zee. Only . . . younger. Zee was younger, and currently making it impossible for her to breath, which was a commodity Ro needed desperately right now. And a lie down, and perhaps a good stiff drink of some anti-hallucination pills laced in the liquid. Or at least a soundproof room where she could scream.

Of course none of this was offered to here, and Ro clutched at the child as if to hold herself up and to ground herself. This had to be a dream or something. Zee was not a little boy, not this really, really strong toddler that was making it impossible for Ro to continue her terrible habit of living. She tried to breathe deeply and calmly, but her breath came out in crazy gasps, hyperventilating.

Ro's eyes stared at the child. It looked just like Zee, except younger! The same raven hair, same style and everything, the same eyes, the same lips. Of course, the proportions were all wrong. And the whole fact that this Zee seemed to be human totally ruined the continuation of similarities. This was not her Zee, and Ro wanted to throw it out of her arms and get the monstrosity away from her.

As if to further tear away from the field of reality, a woman, hardly taller than Ro herself and brown-haired, entered. "Ro, I wish you'd try to arrive a bit earlier," she scolded good-naturedly. "I'm always afraid we're going to run late!"

There was no answer Ro could give, but apparently the woman didn't except one, standing at the base of the stair. "John! Ro's here! Hurry up or we'll be late! Honestly, that man, he could invent the alarm clock and still never use or understand it," the woman continued and she dug into the closet for jackets.

Ro moved away, clutching the Zee-imitation for dear life as if he was a teddy bear. The mockery squirmed unpleasantly and glared up at her, but made no true complaint. What was going on? Who were these people?

"Ro, dear, there's some creds on the counter if you would like to go to the park with Zee and get ice cream," the woman smiled, looking up at the girl briefly. Concern crossed over. "Are you feeling all right, Ro?"

And how do you answer that? Ro could only stare with a frightened rabbit look, but luckily there was no time for her to answer as John rushed down the stairs. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, Mary. Let's get going. Nice to see you, Rosalie," he said quickly, taking his coat away from his wife. His auburn hair was disheveled, clothes wrinkled, tie mis-knotted as if he didn't know how to put one on, and the shoes were on the wrong feet. "Rosalie, please put Zee in by seven, eight at the latest, after a bath. Sups in frig, oh, you know the routine."

Finally he looked up at her, then asked, "Are you all right, Rosalie? You're a mite pale."

They were both looking at her with that air of concern, and even the fake in her arms was worried. She had to say something. "Just . . . can't breathe," she answered in a somewhat choked whisper, grinning in what she hoped was a pleasant, light smile.

The arms around her chest quickly loosened. "Sworry."

"Are you sure you're not coming down with something?" the woman, Mary, asked, moving to touch her forehead. Ro ducked away and grinned widely, perhaps even madly.

"I'm fine," she accented, not wanting these people, if that's what they even were, touching her. "Fine. Fine. Zee's in bed by seven, after a bath, steal the creds and eat all the ice cream for myself, opps, wasn't supposed to say that part."

"If you're sure," Mary started, unconvinced, but John came to Ro's rescue.

"Oh, she's a grown-up . . . little person," he said, somewhat unsure of as to what to call her. "I'm sure Rosalie knows when she's not feeling well."

"Well, if you do get sick," Mary said in the tone that meant she was sure Ro going to, "the number's next to the phone. And we'll be back by ten."

"Okay! Hope you have fun tonight."

"Thank you, Rosalie. And you be good, Zee." John took his wife's arm, who wasn't as nearly convinced with Ro's performance. "Don't burn the house down."

"Yeah."

"Ro, don't feel as if you can't call us," Mary stated firmly. "And, young man, you are going to pick up those toys." The child ignored her, as if by not hearing the command it voided it. "Make sure he picks them up, Ro."

Her curiosity got the best of her. "What toys?"

"You'll see. Bye, sweetie."

"Buhs!" Although giving this farewell, the toddler was unconcerned with the adults' departure, clinging to Ro.

When the unknown adults left, Ro looked everywhere but at the demon still in her arms. The child, on the other hand, looked straight up at her pleasantly, then admired the view as well. They were quiet for several minutes after the vehicle left the drive, and Ro just knew she wasn't holding a normal toddler because not once did this one squirm.

"Are yous sick, Rwos?"

She couldn't help it and looked at the little face that was all Zee, cute instead of handsome. "Umm . . . maybe." Ro was currently of the option that she was dreaming. That was the only rational explanation, although this was a very, very realistic dream. Dreams were usually hazy and vague, and people never had feet. They floated, and everything was perfect. "I have a headache."

And it was true. Pounding at her temples was a constant throbbing in time with her pulse. She could feel it in each root of her hair, scaling down the back of her neck and her spine.

"I be quiets, then." He even brought a finger up in the classic shushing gesture.

"Be vewy, vewy quiet. I'm hunting wabbits," Ro giggled, unbalanced, suddenly reminded of the ancient cartoon no longer played on any stations. It had stopped being publicly played when she was five, now rarely only on the private stations that were too expensive for any orphanage or foster care to show.

"Huh? Wabbits?" He tilted his head in confusion. The boy looked at her vaguely, then said, "My bwanky is being washed." It was strange how such simple statements could be given as such an important pronouncement.

"Oh?"

He nodded solemnly, then looked around. "I hads an accident," he whispered, in Zee's shamefaced face.

Ro's eyes widened at the implications just set in. "Just now?!"

"No, last nights."

Oh, lordy, she was holding a thing that didn't even know how to go to the bathroom! "Well, you tell me when you have to go, okay, right way. Right way!" she repeated for emphasis, figuring if her Zee always understood the importance of the order when she repeated herself, then perhaps this one would too.

"Kays." He swung his sock-clad feet for amusement, then said, "Can we go gets it? Mummy said it should be done when you gots here."

"Mummy" . . . What the heck was that all about? "Umm, sure, why not? Where is it?" Okay, just going to play along, I'm going to wake up, of course. This is all just a really weird, bad dream. All right, perhaps not bad, but certainly weird.

"Clothes' rooms," he informed her.

"And where's that?"

"I'll shows." With that, the fake Zee pushed himself out of her arms, and Ro had to struggle not to let the little creature fall painfully to the ground. He appeared unconcerned and toddled off quickly. Ro stood, staring at the little thing rushing away from her. For the first time, Ro noticed the child's wardrobe, grey shirt and black slacks, just like her Zee. The child, when he noticed Ro wasn't following him, turned. "Rwos?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she started, pulled out of the shock of the similarity her mind was obviously playing on her. Ro followed the guide, although it was quite a long wait when they came to the stairs, as little Zee had to butt-slide down the multitude of steps.

Once Zee had finished showing the safest way to get down from steps when you are only three-feet tall, he started towards the end of the hall. Stopping at the end of a closed door, he pointed at it and looked at Ro expectantly. It took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to open and hence rescue his snot-covered piece of cloth, and Ro took a deep breath and started to fill the figment of her imagination's wish.

Inside were ancient machines. No proper family would use these olden time machines. For heaven's sake, why would any sane person want two machines to clean clothes, a washer and a dryer? It was simply ridiculous. The white machines looked at her in ultimate mockery of present-day technology and she had no wish to get closer.

The fake apparently had no such reservations about getting near them, and he quickly rushed past her legs and stood hopping excitedly in front of the machine, pointing. "In dere, in dere!" he cheered.

His voice was enough for her to snap out of it again. Carefully Ro started over. After a brief hesitation at even opening the machine, only forced on after an encouraging smile from the little Zee. Even in her dreams he could force her to do things. It didn't seem right or fair. She knelt down and cautiously opened the door, having heard tales of machines this old suddenly sprouting flames, and peered inside.

There was only a single piece of fabric and Ro reached in and pulled it out. It was still warm and smelled of a strange fabric softener, not mountain spring or lemony, but something with a bit of home. Yet it wasn't the scent that caused her to stare, but the blanket itself. It wasn't snot-covered or thread-bare with the bunnies and choo-choo trains, but deep violet velvet and black satin trim. It was just like Zee's holographic coat.

"Bwanky!"

Ro shot her head up and looked at her dream-Zee, or at least this dream's Zee and suddenly felt an insatiable urge. Before the child could stop her, she draped the blanket over his shoulder. It was perfect, a perfect cape or coat, and Zee grinned at her with the reserves of baby fat that made any child look cute as Ro sat back on her legs, staring at the similarities.

"I's a superheroes!" he exclaimed, raising his arms up into the air and rushing away to rescue puppies caught in long grass and kittens in trees, leaving Ro still stunned.

With a whimper, she dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, rubbing them savagely. This was no dream, it was too real, too . . . there was no other word to use except too real. No dream fed such senses into the mind, the smells and sights. And you never had any pain in dreams, but that's all Ro's head was currently feeling, especially the more she denied the situation, the existence. The throbbing pulsated in her gooey, grey brain-matter, tying it into knots.

"What is going on?" she hissed, trying to remember what even brought her to this dream, this mockery. But she couldn't. She remembered . . . she remembered waking up this morning in her bed . . . but that was impossible! She didn't have a bed! And there certainly wasn't any pink in her room if she did have it! No, this wasn't real! That wasn't her Zee! Her Zee was taller, and metal, and she couldn't remember, couldn't recall anymore through the pain and haze that her mind was feeding her.

Ro curled into a ball between the two machines, clutching her head. This wasn't real, it wasn't! Her and Zee, they had stopped at a motel! Yes, remember, Ro, remember . . . Jokerz . . . a laser . . .

Her mouth grew dry as hazy dreamy memories filled her mind, of getting shot and dying. But she couldn't have died! She was right here! Right here! She wasn't dead! Who would take care of Zee? The synthoidy one, not the toddler . . . But not much difference there, is there, Rowan? You always made that comment, didn't you? "Zee has the attention-span of a toddler." "Watching Zee was like babysitting a child."

But she didn't mean it! Was this Hell, making her stupid mockery of Zee true? It wasn't fair to punish him like that, for something she had thought up as joke! It wasn't! Change him back, change him back!

"This isn't real, this isn't real, you're not dead, you're not dead!" she said under her breath, clutching her head as the throbbing grew worse. It didn't help her, and Ro forced herself into the small ball, trying to shrink away from the pain, but the source was from the inside, the constant hellish pain that was punishing her for whatever she had done in life to deserve it, trying to erase her mind and change it into that of a puny drone.

"I'm not dead!" she hissed savagely. "This isn't real, this isn't real!" The pain said otherwise, and her vision swam slightly from the tears.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispered, brushing back her bangs and shaking her head. Her head throbbed with a steady pulse under her hand, and Ro bit her lip as bile threatened to rise.

Unfortunately, the one she usually asked and figured out the answers for her was now toddler-sized and unable to give her any answer.

"Zee . . ." she whimpered, burying her head.

Zee walked down the halls, sniffing quietly to himself and clutching the blanket desperately, looking every which way. "Rwos?" he called out rather quietly, unable to get his voice higher than a whisper and without the slight tremor. "Rwos? Where ares you?"

The house was silent and suddenly very scary, with funny dancing shadows and hidden people with eyes staring out at him, and he whimpered, rushing into a small dash to leave the current room. Where was Ro? She wasn't supposed to leave, she wasn't! She couldn't leave him! She couldn't!

Perhaps she was playing hide-and-seek, and if she was, she had a good hiding place! But she always told him when they were playing . . . no, Ro wasn't gone, she was hiding. She had to be hiding.

Even still, he sniffed and looked around the room. Everything seemed to tower over him, higher than ever, and Zee shrank back. He didn't like being alone. It was when you were alone that monsters came out of the walls and tried to hurt you, chase you, scare you. And Zee had a lot of monsters that liked to scare him.

They were everywhere. Tall, scary monsters haunted him at all times and places. The secret was to always have someone with you so the monsters couldn't attack. And Ro was his protector; she would never let the monsters attack him, she'd scare them all away.

Again he butt-slid down the steps down the lowest level. To his mind, there was no reason as to why his sitter would still be downstairs, as Ro never went down there before today, but it was all he had left to look. It took him a while to gain his momentum at the bottom step, and he stood up shakily. It was darker here, with shadows scarier with their spider hands reaching for him.

He was unclear, and unquestioning, how Ro had been appointed his protector and not, say, his fosters or blanket. Yet one day, or night, as the case actually was, with demons chasing him, she had suddenly appeared in his dreams and scared them all away, hugging him afterwards. She protected him from a terribly, terribly tall, mean green-eyed monster that was always trying to catch him and take him away and all its little followers.

The Smiths, though, did question Zee's infatuation with their young neighbor. They were only lucky Ro did not mind or comment on the attentions of a toddler who took to following her quietly around her own yard when he saw her about. They had spoken to a child therapist and had been informed that he probably had merely associated her to an old face from his past, a mother or sister perhaps. That he had probably latched on to a feature such as her blond hair and merely finished the features to make the neighbor girl, when he in effect only recognized a small similarity. No doubt he would grow out of it. He had been through a traumatic experience, after all, which would no doubt account for his "monsters." Just because he apparently didn't remember it didn't mean he didn't have it etched into his subconscious. Or so the therapist suggested.

Of course Zee didn't recognize all this hypothesizing. He only knew Ro protected him, in dreams and in real life. Some nights, though, Ro didn't appear, and those nights were the worst. He usually had accidents on those nights, a child-like maneuver to protect himself, perhaps. He never understood why she didn't always appear, why sometimes she let them try and take him away.

He padded on the cold floor, looking up at the closed doors. He was too little to even attempt opening them, so he settled for dashing his eyes back and forth and trying to appear as small as possible, tears trickling down.

When he finally reached the last door, open, he let out a huge sob of relief at the sight of his Ro curled up next to the machines. Without a thought he rushed himself towards her and squirmed into her lap, crying freely into her shirt.

Ro was shocked at the ball of sniffles and sobs that had launched it painfully against her chest on onto her lap, hugging her for dear life the second time today. Panic hit her, suddenly remembering all she had learned, and she pushed the child off her.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked.

He stumbled back and collapsed onto his rear, clear shock and pain written on his face, even betrayal. "Rwos?"

"You're not real!" Ro yelled, jumping up and pressing herself against the wall, fighting against the pain. "You're not real!" She pointed accusingly.

Zee looked up at her, suddenly even more scared. Why was Ro doing this? "Rwos?!" he wailed, trying to get closer.

"Stay away!"

Tears streamed down his face. "Rwos! Pwease!"

Ro tried to ignore the scene. "You're not really Zee! I want to go home! I want to get away from you!"

No no nononononNO! Ro couldn't leave him, she couldn't, she couldn't! "NO!" he wailed, trying to launch himself towards her in an effort to keep her with him. "Don'ts go, Rwos!"

She dashed nimbly away, glaring at the little monster that wasn't real, and watched as Zee hit the machines hard and collapsed to the ground stunned. "Stay away from me," she said in a low menacing hiss. "I'm not falling for any of this!" She gripped her hair as her headache returned full force with its own reserve. "You're not real, none of this is real!"

Zee pushed himself up, crying openly now. "Rwos! Don't goes! Pweese?"

No humane person couldn't feel not feel guilty at this scene, a toddler that was just crying out to be held, but Ro wasn't going to bend. She was going to get out of here, back to her Zee, no matter what! A crying ghost of her imagination wasn't going to stop her. "Shut up and go away!"

"I couldn'ts find you!" he wailed, well, more like whimpered, as it wasn't very loud, looking up with pleading blue, red-rimmed eyes.

"I don't want you to find me!" she screamed, trying to remain firm. This was wrong on so many levels, screaming at a crying child, a child who looked like Zee, and Ro knew it. The knowledge made her stomach flip.

It was like he had been slapped. "RWOS!" he wailed openly, collapsing into hysterics. "No, no, no!"

It was the combination of guilt and pain that made Ro collapse to her knees. "Go away! I want to wake up!" she said coldly, softly.

Zee had covered his ears and was shaking his head wildly as he himself curled into a little ball such as Ro had done earlier. "No no no no no You're nots Rwos! Yous a monster! Not real, not real, not reals! RWOS, help! Pwease, help!"

She stood shell-shocked at the words and emotion behind them, suddenly backing away as if to escape the scene. And suddenly Ro learned a startling, sickening revelation, that what she was doing here affected this place as well. And she had no right, no right to scare any sort of imposter-Zee, especially one that seemed to be just as innocent as hers.

Awkwardly, guiltily, she started to crawl over. "Hey, hey, shh, shh, it's okay, I'm right here," she tried, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Zee flinched away from her, shrinking himself into a smaller ball and trying to dig through the machines.

"Go aways! Rwos!"

It was a mirror of her own breakdown, but even worse because she had caused this one. "I'm right here, Zee," she whispered.

He shook his head wildly, refusing to look up at her to confirm her words. In truth, he was scare to see what he was going to find. If it was a monster, then his Ro really was nice and liked him still, but if he saw Ro, then he knew an awful truth, that she hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.

"Monster!"

He was right to call her that. "No, no, Zee, the monster went away. I'm me, Ro," she cooed, still trying to get him to accept her touch.

Yes, yes, Ro had scared away that monster pretending to be Ro! Yes, yes! Cautiously he peeked out. "Rwos?" he whispered, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, it's me," she whispered back, giving a soft, forgiving smile. And suddenly the child launched himself again at her, crying freely again. Ro felt something wet on her lap and could suddenly acknowledge the smell of urine, and tried not to get sick as she patted his back awkwardly.

"Rwos," he sobbed.

"I'm right here, Zee," she whispered. Yeah, I was right here for the past two hours, trying to prove that this wasn't real. Screaming at you to prove it wasn't real. "Hey, I'm sorry, Zee," she whispered, unsurely trying to hug him. He dug deeper into her, sniffling. "Shh, shh, it's all right. I'm not going anywhere." Except to where I actually belong. But I'm not going to yell at you again. You don't deserve it.

"Pwomise?"

"Would I lie to you?" Internally, Ro winced. In a sense, she was doing that to Zee. She had no intention of playing this mind game, and would leave him the second her real life come into view. "And see, there's no monsters."

"Uh huh," he sniffed, looking up at her with tear-stricken cheeks. It broke Ro's already wounded heart, as she had never actually seen her Zee cry, in reality didn't think he could and couldn't ever be prepared for any imitation doing such.

"No, there's not," she whispered, wiping his cheeks with the satin edge of the blanket. "And I'm sorry I left you alone, Zee." It was best not to mention the yelling. Let him think it was a monster, because that was what it had been. A monster that wasn't coming back, Ro swore.

There wasn't any accusation present on his young face, but he merely latched onto her tighter, sobs eventually subsiding into cry-cups. "I made an accidents," he whispered, still crying gently.

"It's okay, Zee, it's okay."

"Sworry."

"Shh. Shh, Zee," she whispered, carefully standing up with him in her arms and walking up the stairs. She looked around briefly for the bath and found it soon enough. She set the toddler on the toilet and filled it up with warm water, then started to strip the child (that thankfully wasn't like her Zee in all respects at the moment) and be glad that her own wardrobe had not been drenched.

He limply let her scoop him into the tub and wash him, clearly emotionally tired and ready to recuperate. And the warmth of the water only instilled the fact while soap bubbles danced over his skin and hair, washing away the urine scent and leaving soapy cleanness in their wake.

Ro made no words, too guilty to actually say anything. Instead, she grabbed the fluffiest towel and started to dry him gently, paying special mind to his face and cheeks, smiling warmly. He smiled back and welcomed himself, towel-wrapped and blanket-holding, into her arms.

Ro climbed the main stairs, duly searching for any room that hinted a toddler lived there. If Zee was curious about her actions, he was too sleepy to speak it. Finally she located to room (and understood the mention of cleaning of his toys) and quickly found some clean clothes, gently changing her charge into them. Again it was a grey shirt and black pants, but Ro had done it subconsciously, not on purpose. She scooped him back up into her arms and went over to a chair.

"All better?" she whispered. Zee nodded sleepily.

"How about we both take a little nap."

"No nap," he muttered sullenly, wiping his nose.

"Why not? I'm tired." And she was, a bit, and she yawned to show her willingness to for a few z's. "You can stay awake and I'll sleep," she said quietly, resting back.

Zee appeared off-centered that Ro wanted a nap and decided the best option was to not say anything and curl up against her. His eyes were already drooping and Ro rubbed his back in an effort to get him to fall asleep faster.

"I likes you, Rwos," he murmured after a long while, just before his breathing evened.

She sat quietly in the room holding the child, a little Zee, and tried to figure out her dilemma. Her actions earlier made her sick now, and Ro could feel her stomach readily agreeing to show how sick she was. Her head was lightly throbbing again, and Ro couldn't think too long about how to get back home. Instead, she looked down at her arms at the slumbering sweetie. He was just like her Zee, all toddler and cute, innocent and naïve. Her little Zee, perhaps even a truer form.

Her fingers ran through his damp hair. Real hair, deep breathes, warm skin, rosy cheeks, blue eyes, a real, little Zee. This world had a few benefits, but it was wrong. So terribly wrong.

Her head twinged and Ro swallowed deeply, trying to keep the bile down. She had to get back, no matter what, but not by hurting this precious little angel. She would never hurt her Zee, and she wasn't going to hurt this one either. Ro sighed and closed her eyes.

"And I like you too," she whispered, making comforting circles on his back. "Both of you."

And suddenly, she fell backwards.