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(A/N: Just a little one-shot I might expand in the future regarding Mr. Peabody and Sherman. Been sitting in my documents for years, so I figured I'd post it. Hope you all enjoy.)

MR. PEABODY AND SHERMAN

Transcending

He hadn't ever thought about dog lifespans versus human ones. It never crossed his mind and Mr. Peabody never brought it up. Not even when he'd been slowing down had he brought it up. He always said that everything was fine, and he just wasn't a puppy anymore. He'd heard other kids' dads say things like that! When Mr. Peabody kept slowing down though, then the WABAC machine stopped being used because he didn't have the energy, and then when finally he barely even got up some days, Sherman got really scared for him. He thought his dad might be sick. He went to Mr. and Mrs. Petersen, and that's when he learned…

"Sherman, you know, dogs don't live for as long as humans do," Mrs. Petersen had gently said.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Sherman asked.

"I mean… dogs like Mr. Peabody, they only live for about fifteen years," Mrs. Petersen had tried to explain.

"But-but Mr. Peabody is different! He's a genius," Sherman insisted.

"Genius he may be, but he's still a dog," Mr. Petersen answered. Sherman looked stunned. "I'll tell you what, I'll stop by your house later today and check on him, okay?" he offered.

"Okay," Sherman replied, still looking stunned.

When Mr. Petersen came, he'd gone to Mr. Peabody's room to talk to him in private. Soon the man emerged looking sad, went to Sherman, gently patted his head, and said, "You should go talk to your dad. Don't worry, everything will be okay. He has everything arranged for you."

"What do you mean?" Sherman asked. Mr. Petersen just smiled and prodded him towards Mr. Peabody's room.

"I'll be back in a few hours to get you," Mr. Petersen stated.

"Why?!" Sherman demanded.

"Go see your dad, Sherman," Mr. Petersen insisted. Uneasily Sherman obeyed.

PaS

Sherman entered and closed the door. "Come here, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said, voice sounding weak.

Sherman approached uneasily. "You'll get better, right Mr. Peabody?" he asked, climbing onto the bed.

"Sherman, I…" he began. He paused and sighed. "Not this time…" Sherman looked stricken and afraid. "It'll be alright, Sherman. I've put things in order for you to make sure you'll be kept well," he gently said.

"Is one of those things you getting up?" Sherman asked, voice cracking.

"No, son," Mr. Peabody answered. "I'm sorry… That I never thought of this sooner. That like a fool I forgot that I… that I wouldn't be here with you long enough…"

"Mr. Peabody…" Sherman began, sniffing and wiping his eyes. "You can't go."

"I wish I had that choice," he answered.

"Dad…" Sherman began, forgetting formality.

"Shh, Sherman. Shh. It'll be alright," Peabody soothed, allowing the title. He almost wondered why he hadn't before. Of course he knew why he hadn't, just now it all seemed so petty. Sherman burst into tears, burying his face in Peabody's fur and sobbing. Peabody winced and held him tightly against himself. "It's… it's alright," he promised, voice breaking slightly. He hoped Sherman hadn't heard the break. "I'm going to rest for a while now. You may stay if you like. I… I love you, son." Peabody knew he wouldn't wake up from this nap. He fought to stay awake as long as possible before finally he couldn't anymore, and sank into darkness.

PaS

Sherman, sobbing and trembling, slowly rose, looking down at his father. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't be! He gasped and leapt from the bed, racing out of the room. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he had to find something! He scrambled down into Mr. Peabody's lab as quickly as he could and dove into his catalogue of inventions. He felt despair creeping up. He didn't understand what any of this was! He racked his brain, trying to make sense of the words and numbers and what each thing did. He couldn't understand anything! He pulled out a file folder that read 'FORGOTTEN PROJECTS'. He threw it open in desperation, reading through. Suddenly he stopped. Here was something he kind of understood? It was a note Mr. Peabody had made above a design. It read:

Do I want to transcend my canine form?

There was a sketch of something and notes on how to build it. Then another note:

Completed but rejected. I wouldn't understand how to be anything else anyway. Scrap.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Sherman said. Had he junked it? This might be what he needed now! He looked around with a gasp, searching for something. He raced through the whole lab, but it wasn't here! Wait. There was a storage area. Quickly he found it and went inside, looking through all the objects and clutching the picture of the device close, eyes darting from it back to every dust-covered invention he saw. He dove in, digging through everything and burrowing even to the very back of storage. He shoved something aside and gasped, stopping. There it was! He could have sworn it was glowing for the relief he felt. He gave a victorious cry and leapt for it, seizing it and pulling it from its hiding place. He looked it over in wonder. He didn't know what it did, exactly, but it was all he had found that could maybe save his dad! Immediately Sherman raced out of the lab.

Sherman burst into his father's room grinning. "Mr. Peabody, I found something that might help you!" he exclaimed. No reply. His grin vanished and excitement became fear. "Mr. Peabody?" No answer. "Mr. Peabody!" Sherman yelped, racing forward and leaping on his father's bed in fear. He was breathing, but only barely. Mr. Peabody was going to die! He realized with a harsh jolt that he wouldn't ever wake up. Not like this. Tears burned his eyes and he almost forgot about the device before he heard it drop. He gasped, looking at it, then grabbed it up, scanning it quickly with mouth agape. Quickly he began to fiddle with it, trying to coax it to life. When it began to hum and glow, he almost cheered. He looked at Mr. Peabody and aimed it at him before hesitating. What if it didn't work? What if it killed him instead?! But then he was already dying anyway… Sherman felt the tears burning his eyes again and swallowed. He took a breath, steeled himself, gritted his teeth, and fired.

The kickback knocked the little boy down. The beam of light struck Mr. Peabody, but Mr. Peabody didn't move. The light glowed all around him before entering his body, but… but nothing happened… Sherman waited. And waited. His expression crumbled with each minute that passed with nothing. It hadn't worked… He broke down, angrily throwing the device to the side and falling on his dad again, cuddling close and weeping. All he could do was wait for Mr. Peabody to… to stop breathing… Angry and frustrated and scared, he cried himself to sleep, clinging tightly to his father.

PaS

A hand gently brushed through his hair as if it was its first time feeling it, awed and captivated. Like it was a sensation it had never felt or expected to. Gently the hand touched the boy's skin and froze as if overwhelmed. Sherman made a whimpering sound, shifting slightly. "Sh-Sherman?" the one to whom the hand belonged said almost fearfully. Sherman shifted, whimpering again. He felt the touch now. Had Mr. Petersen come back to get him? If he had, that meant… He gasped then gave a little cry of grief, clinging to Peabody tightly as if refusing to be moved. Peabody felt bigger somehow. Way bigger. "Sherman, what did you do to me?" the voice asked. Sherman recognized it this time, strong and healthy but now a little frightened and stunned too.

Sherman gasped, sitting bolt upright. "Mr. Peabody, you're alive!" he exclaimed, struggling to see. He couldn't. His glasses must have fallen off and it was dark, but Mr. Peabody was alive! Sherman quickly fumbled for his spectacles.

"Sherman what did you do to me?!" the voice demanded a bit closer to panic.

"I used one of your scrapped devices on you because I thought it might save you and…" Sherman began, still fumbling for glasses. He heard Peabody pick them up and felt them plunked on his face. He blinked rapidly. "Thanks Mr…" he began. He stopped short, catching his breath and giving a yelp, leaping back. "Who are you?!" he blurted. There was a man sitting where Mr. Peabody had been! "Where's my dad!"

"Sherman, focus! What device?" the strange man said.

"You ate Mr. Peabody?!" Sherman demanded. The man face palmed. As Sherman started to focus and wake up again, he realized how stupid that sounded. But-but that meant… His eyes widened. "Mr.-Mr. Peabody?" Sherman asked in wonder.

"What device, Sherman?" the man—Mr. Peabody?—asked. Numbly Sherman pointed. Mr. Peabody looked over and went to it, picking it up and examining it. "It worked…" he soon said.

"Mr. Peabody? It's you?" Sherman asked, voice watery like he was about to cry again.

Mr. Peabody tensed and turned, blinking at his son with eyes that… that actually saw what a human saw… Saw things he hadn't even known could be seen… His sense of smell was sorely, sorely lacking, and he felt half deaf with this human hearing, but the eyes… Oh what he could see with these eyes… And his mind! His mind felt more expanded than it ever had as a dog! Which was really saying something given he'd already been one of the smartest things alive, if not the topper. He could hardly wait to try taste. And this touch… Touch… He looked at his son again. He approached him after a moment and sat on the bed. He saw tears and tilted his head. Gently he reached out, wiping them away. They felt so warm. Gently he cupped his son's face, lifting it and tracing it in wonder. Sherman's mouth trembled.

"It's me, Sherman," he finally answered. "It's me." Sherman gave a cry and threw himself into the man's arms, clinging tightly to him. Peabody looked stunned at the sensation. After a moment, he wrapped his arms tightly around his child as Sherman cried. Sherman looked up at him, eyes glimmering with tears, and took him in.

"You have white hair. Are you old?" Sherman asked.

"No, Sherman. I don't believe I am," Peabody answered. He looked at himself in a mirror. Not much for signs of age at all. Some wrinkles indicative of a man likely in his thirties or forties. He was leaning more towards forties, but wasn't certain.

"And you have your glasses still, and your bowtie," Sherman marvelled.

"That I do, Sherman," Mr. Peabody answered, touching his own face in wonder.

"And you… you're human! Like me!" Sherman said.

Mr. Peabody turned to the child. "Yes," he finally answered. "Yes, I am." And it didn't escape him that it had saved his life. He was vaguely surprised he hadn't appeared as a man in his eighties or nineties given his dog age in proportion to human age, but it was a pleasant surprise. He might have to look into why that was later, though. It could cause a problem if it had been a malfunction.

"And-and now you-you can stay with me, right? And be with me my whole life?" Sherman asked.

"A good portion of it," Mr. Peabody answered. "Given how age works, Sherman, odds are I will still be gone before you. But yes. I can be here for you now. As you grow up, as you start a family of your own, as your children grow up, as they start families of their own… Yes, Sherman. I will be here. For a long time to come now." If everything worked out of course, but he was leery of untested devices. Maybe this time he'd just gotten lucky. Sherman bear hugged him again and he stood, picking his son up. For the first time since Sherman was a baby—the boy's moment of terror in Egypt excluded—he could pick his son up! My, this human body was much stronger than his dog body. Much, much stronger. And much, much taller. It would take some time to get used to moving around like this and recalibrating everything. And getting used to human functions and habits. But it would be worth it for Sherman.

"Mr. Peabody… You're really here," Sherman said, grinning up at him tearfully.

Mr. Peabody was quiet. "I am," he soon answered. Sherman threw his arms around his neck and kissed the man's cheek gleefully. Mr. Peabody started and looked at his son. After a moment, he pressed a kiss to Sherman's forehead. My that gesture was intimate. Not a romantic sort of intimate, but a far more wonderful sort. An unconditional sort. It felt so strange, but in a good way! Unlike anything he'd done before. It felt like a strong bonding experience. Lips were so sensory, he noted. Gently he put Sherman down. The boy clung to his hand tightly.

"I was so scared, Mr. Peabody," Sherman said.

Mr. Peabody's jaw twitched slightly. Now 'Mr. Peabody' just sounded… not right. At first it had been best, his being a dog and Sherman a human. Plus, he had always been a bit averse to expressions of affection, but now… Now he couldn't help but feel like that was a little selfish. "I know, Sherman," he answered. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of it long ago."

"But now you're here to stay?" Sherman asked again, frantic for further reassurance.

"I'm here to stay," Mr. Peabody promised. "And… if you'd like, you don't need to call me Mr. Peabody anymore."

"What would I call you then?" Sherman asked.

"Think about it," Peabody answered.

Sherman looked confused before his eyes lit up and he gave a gasp. "D-dad?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes. Or father, or papa, or whatever suits you," Peabody confirmed tentatively, nodding. It was a big step for him to take, for sure, but he got the feeling the child would transition right in.

"I love you dad!" Sherman exclaimed, throwing himself into Peabody's body.

Peabody caught him and held him close, gently petting his hair. "I… love you too, Sherman," he replied. "I love you too."