I. – On the way to Middle Zephyron, twenty minutes in…

Abba steered the ancient scooter she would play on as a child over miles of crop fields imported from Greece thirty years earlier. People stared up from their harvesters which consisted of tractor-colored sub-droids helping matching-suited families do their work.

"How fast we goin' on this thing, anyway?" Jean yelled over the piercing gales.

"Nine-hundred!" his cousin called back. The wind blew against their faces and garbled most of what they said. "It has been…" she sucked in a breath. "Years since I did this."

"Do they come in black?.!" Taylor shouted.

"Hey!" Jean was then struck by the obvious. "At nine-hundred miles an hour, how're-?,"

They screamed out loud as Abba drove the porcelain-like scooter down and scraped the bottom against the five-hundred-foot tall Iron Rails. Their wails only increased as sparks – only several however – flew up in a spray of orange. Abba then ascended off the trestles.

She grinned back at the gasping boys.

"Our atmosphere is not as strong as it used to be, even though it was replenished."

The oldest boy talked through his pants, "Less air, less friction."

"Exactly!" She laughed.

"How's that make us go faster?" Taylor inquired as they eased into a straight line.

"Airliners at nine-hundred take a few hours." Jean added.

"Hmm." The woman considered this. "I am not sure. Perhaps less friction, less time."

Finally the boys were laughing at the illogic of it all and she joined in with them.

Mid-morning light led Abba to drop her amusement. The city was in disarray. Buildings, not just the ones she had seen in the center of Middle Zephyron, were crumbled into mere rubble. The fans and giant chrome-colored poles looped in and out of the brick and mortar wreckage. She slowed her scooter as she began to realize that she had been correct on her passing assumption; her mother had meant to do something else. It did not make sense to Abba and yet… her mother had never said goodbye to her. Her father had not told her he loved her. Tears formed in her eyes. Where was he? Still airborne, Abba descended now.

"What'cha doin'?" The smallest child asked. He was so innocent.

"I want you to stay here," she said, not looking at them.

"What?.!" Jean was flabbergasted. "First Ivan, now you? What kind of family are you?"

"How come everyone keeps abandoning us?" Taylor whimpered.

"Oh, no, no." Abba slipped off the ivory scooter and had to use one hand to keep it from drifting off as she consoled the boy with her other. "My child, I am merely going to rectify what has been done wrong." he blinked. "I am going to make things right." she smiled. As if she were his own mother, Abba planted a delicate kiss on his forehead and glided away.

The boys stared after her dishearteningly.

"Well, my loves…"

She saw her own abandonment reflected in their eyes; Abba was rendered six again.

Had she ever really stopped being six?

"I am afraid… I most grow up now." They were on the verge of tears again. "It is not safe for you to go with me." she was floating further away now and they ran to try to catch up.

Their little hands raised up in the air now as it seemed they begged for her to include them.

"I shall go, little ones. You must stay behind and not follow."

Abba sped off in a puff of air.

…

Taylor cried.

This time, Jean did not console him. He just stood there staring out blankly.

"What'd we do, Jean?" his dirt-coated brother asked. "What'd we gonna do?"

Irritation flared inside of the preadolescent's chest and heated the back of his neck and ears. His brother continued to weep and ask him over and over again the same question

he had asked since they had left. Jean clenched his hands into fists. How he wished his baby brother was gone. How he wished the little boy was back in their mother's overly protective care. That was it, Taylor could go with Grandma Julie and creepy old Uncle Garth. Jean started to smile in a kind of twisted way. A solution stood right before him.

"Jean, what'd ya doin'?" Still red-eyed, Taylor had finally stopped crying.

His big brother started towards him with his head dipping forward intently. The little boy put his hands up with a worried expression and tried to conceal his face. Jean wasn't fully aware of what he was doing. He grasped his bewildered brother's wrists and lifted him up.

"Jean?" Taylor squeaked.

Suddenly the eleven-year-old could hear the sound of his own breathing and he saw that his little brother was looking into his eyes in fear of him. He gasped back a breath and let the child down gently. Taylor seemed to understand his change of heart and gave a smile.

"Sorry," he offered.

"S'kay." Jean placed a hand on his shoulder. "I guess… I got caught up in the moment."

Taylor reached out to give him a hug and Jean reluctantly accepted it. Just then Taylor got snagged on one of his shoe laces and stumbled backwards. Jean jumped headfirst, catching his little brother by the wrists. His feelings of weary frustration were replaced by true fear.

"Taylor!"

"Jean!"

"You gotta climb up me, you're too far down for me to pull you up on my own."

The five-year-old's face screwed up, "I can't," he said, his baby teeth showing.

"You gotta!" Jean encouraged. "Think of Ash from Pokemon."

"I hate Pokemon!"

"Think of Goku from Dragon Ball Z!"

"I hate Dragon Ball Z!" Taylor said fast. His griping was becoming humorous.

Jean grinned and laughed. "How 'bout Superman?"

The little boy grinned back. "I hate Superman!"

Their new game grew more serious as Taylor started slipping. "Okay… uh, Spiderman?"

"Nope!" There was a sudden tug on Jean's arms as his brother kept talking. "Batman!"

"Batman?.!" The older boy complained as Taylor scrambled up him. "What about Robin?"

"What about'im?" He was up on the tracks and talking like nothing had happened. "I got Batman toys for Christmas and my Robin doll looks like a fruit loop, you know that Jean."

"I know," he chuckled. "That's why I brought it up. I'm Batman and you're Robin."

"You're not either!" Taylor got up on his toes and yelled.

A wiry skeleton surfaced right in front of them.

The two were frozen for one moment and than they both released a scream to rival that of any they had uttered before. As they tried running back and forth before stopping and then trying to go the other way, their curious onlooker watched in his mid-flight. His eyes were as white as the moon under the shroud of cloud cover and this attention made Taylor stop.

"Do you know Pygmy?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, Taylor. The huge wire freak is gonna freakin' know Ivan's robot sister."

"Worth a shot." Taylor told him with a smile.

"Pygmy?" His voice was like hers but slightly gravellier and less feminine.

"Hogarth?"

"Giant." Jean took charge and said deliberately. "The Iron Giant. We've heard that he's here." he saw the look in the wire being's eyes that he was looking for. "Take us to him."

"You gotta say "please", Jean." Taylor said, he was forever a stickler for good manners.

"Shut up, Taylor. We're going home. If anyone can get us there it's Rockwell's legend."

…

The Giant stood staring into the river Hogarth had collected the roaches from.

His friend in question was crouched and using plastic wrap to cover the empty chili cans with the live insects inside. Seeing as they were probably going to be there a while, since the Giant had refused to leave without an explanation as to Hogarth's mysterious attitude,

they were going to need to stock up on whatever food was available. The iron man sighed.

Hogarth didn't turn to acknowledge him.

"Hogarth, we need to talk. I know that you never fully recovered, but this is ridiculous."

He still didn't say anything to the Giant.

"It's been years. Decades. Don't you think it's time to let the past be in the past?"

Hogarth scoffed quietly. "Giant, I can't believe you just said that. I got on with my life."

The robot waited.

"So what if I never got over the Rockwell missile thing? It's not like we can change it."

"I wouldn't change it for the world."

Hogarth froze. His hands were mid-rummage and his face was crushed.

The Giant straightened a little behind him, waiting but resolute.

With another huffed breath, Hogarth threw his bag over his shoulder and went to take up residency by the river where his friend had stood. It occurred to him then, looking at his lumpy clothes and mad scientist hair, that this large, clear water stream was probably an entirely different stream then had been in his time, it probably had a new, different name.

Suddenly the Giant stomped to stand beside his friend.

They looked worlds apart; the Giant in his missile scorched iron and Hogarth… the more he concentrated on himself the more he saw that he was no different then the people who had made up Rockwell in 1957. For the first time ever, he could see an old man standing there. Hogarth could see that he looked just like one of the townspeople, entirely normal.

The Giant placing his hand on Hogarth's back dissipated this illusion. It brought him back and reminded him that he wasn't one of them; was this relief Hogarth felt? When the Iron Giant spoke it was directed to his heart: "A robot couldn't ask for a better human friend."

Hogarth smiled and saw a little of himself returning, he cuddled the Giant's fingers.

"I love you, Hogarth." His friend's reflected yellow eyes lightened the scorch marks on his iron, the very thing that had scorched Hogarth's heart since his teenaged years. The grown man turned to his best friend and smiled. Humbled delight entered the Giant's eyes and he picked Hogarth up. Bringing him up to his shoulder, the two embraced happily. They both turned to face one another for a moment as it suddenly dawned on them where their years-old friendship was at this point. Hogarth looked down for a moment, looked up bravely at his friend – who was ready as well – and the two leaned in to the exchange their first kiss.

…

From a distance, Jean and Taylor could see a giant robot as tall as their new circuit board friend who obediently landed and bent down for them to get off. As Taylor turned to give him an appreciate look, Jean became fixed on the robot's actions. Was his eyes correct? If

so, than he was seeing a human kissing the giant robot. He rubbed at them to make sure he was seeing right. The two distant figures were separate now in their slight silhouettes. As Jean tugged on one his brother's arms he discovered that he was instead pulling on one of the wire man's circuits. Panicked, he turned to see that Taylor was sprinting headlong for whoever was in the distance. Jean hopped off the wire-taut hand and gave chase after him.

To be continued…

~ Lavenderpaw ~