A dying man is given a second chance. This story is a fan fiction that takes place in the Whateley Universe.

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I was in the bathroom, having just finished with a nice long crap. As I washed my hands in the sink, I was very careful not to look up into the mirror. Ever since I’d woken up in this place yesterday, every time I looked into the mirror I was caught by surprise. My body had changed while I was out of it, and as Dr. Franklin had warned me, it had continued to change more.

Without having to look into the mirror, I already knew what I’d see. I looked younger than I actually was, a lot younger. In fact, the last time I’d looked into a mirror a few hours ago, I would have guessed myself to be in my twenties, and probably early twenties at that. My skin was all soft and smooth, and I still didn’t have any signs of stubble growing back. I even had a full head of hair, which had grown out a good five inches since yesterday. In fact, the only thing about me that didn’t seem younger was my hair color. My hair was longer and thicker, but it was now a silvery white color.

“I get to look older and younger at the same time,” I said with a forced chuckle, trying not to think about the most noticeable change that I’d gone through.

After I woke up yesterday, I’d been pretty shocked to find out that I’d shrunk a good five inches. That had been a tough pill to swallow, but not nearly as much as the fact that I’d lost another five inches of height since then. At first, I was looking Dr. Franklin straight in the eyes, and now I actually had to look up at her. For most of my life, I’d been known as Big Al, but now I was damn near a midget.

“I’m a mutant,” I stated with a sigh, taking some of the running water and splashing it on my face. I still refused to look into the mirror.

I’d always known that God had a wicked sense of humor, as proven by the existence of giraffes, platypuses, and scientologists, but this particular joke on me was a doozy. When Melanie had just been a baby, I’d joined up with Humanity First, which had been something like a neighborhood watch that looked out for dangerous mutants instead of regular criminals. As far as I’d been concerned, no one in their right mind would give some fifteen year old kid a flamethrower and then let him walk around in public with it, and I saw no difference between that and a mutant kid who could do the same thing with his bare hands. Mutants could be pretty dangerous and I wanted to do anything I could to protect my family from them. But then Rachael had manifested as a mutant and I’d had to protect her from a threat I’d never expected, my own buddies. I’d left Humanity First on less than friendly terms. Now here I was, a middle-aged guy with two grandkids, who was manifesting as a mutant, which was something that normally only happened to teenagers.

Though I’d never admit it out loud, the idea of being a mutant scared the crap out of me. Being a mutant had not only destroyed Rachael’s life, it had also caused a lot of pain for the rest of the family. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting everyone through that again.

But in spite of everything that was happening to my body, and all the worries I had because of it, I was in a surprisingly good mood. Then again, maybe it wasn’t all that surprising since a couple days ago I’d been dying of cancer but now I was cured and had a second chance at life. Not only was my cancer gone, but I actually felt better than I ever had in my life. There were no aches or pains at all, and I was practically bursting with energy.

I turned off the water, only to have the faucet handle break off in my hand. I frowned for a moment before dropping the handle in the sink, not too surprised by it. After all, just about everything in this place seemed to be made as cheap as possible because it kept breaking in my hands. Yesterday, when Dr. Franklin had given me some real clothes to wear, the shirt was so flimsy that I’d accidentally torn it in half.

With that, I looked down at the clothes I was currently wearing and let out a sigh. The clothes had fit perfectly fine when I’d gotten dressed this morning, but now they were all too baggy on me, a clear indication of just how much I’ve been shrinking.

“Things could be a lot worse,” I reminded myself with a chuckle. “You could still be in a hospital bed dying.”

Whenever I started to worry about the way my body was changing or began to feel sorry for myself, that simple reminder helped to put things in perspective. And besides, I’d agreed to this, knowing that there would be risks. When I’d told Rachael to cure me, I’d known full well that I might end up with scales or something else, so there was no point in complaining about it now. I’d made a decision and I was going to have to live with the consequences, both good and bad.

I finally looked up into the mirror and saw that my reflection had changed a little more since the last time I’d looked, though it wasn’t anything especially obvious. My face just looked a little softer, a little younger. I looked like I was in my late teens now.

As I left the bathroom, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ribbon that Kimberly had given me back in the other hospital. Dr. Franklin told me that when they’d brought me here, I’d been clutching it firmly in my hand. I smiled faintly, thinking that she’d given it to me for luck, and it seemed to have worked because I couldn’t think of very many things that would have been luckier than finding a cure for cancer. However, a cure for Diedricks did come to mind.

I continued holding the ribbon as I looked around the hospital room where I was still staying, though most of the medical equipment had been moved out to the side. Dr. Franklin didn’t seem to think I needed a heart monitor or any of that anymore, though she had run me through a few tests yesterday after I’d woken up, then a few more this morning. She assured me that Rachael’s cure was completely out of my system and that everything I was going through now was part of my mutation, though she still wasn’t sure if Rachael’s cure had caused the mutation or if it had simply flipped the switch on one that was already there.

After Rachael had given me the cure, my body was in pretty bad shape, probably worse than what she’d expected. Dr. Franklin said I went into an artificially induced burnout state, though I didn’t fully understand what that meant, only that it came close to killing me. I would have figured that it was a good thing I was already in a hospital, but apparently, the doctors there didn’t think they could handle it. They figured I was either a mutant or was having a bad reaction to the stuff Rachael had given me, so they’d actually sent me here, to what they just referred to as the Clinic. Apparently, the Clinic was a small private hospital that had been made specifically to deal with mutants and other people with powers.

Yesterday, after I’d been declared healthy enough to leave the room, I’d been given a quick tour of the place. The Clinic itself wasn’t very big, but it was kind of impressive in its own way. Apparently, they have access to some of the best medical gear on the planet. I didn’t know much about medicine once you got past putting on a band-aid, but even I could tell this place was something special.

I sat down in a chair and let out a sigh, wondering what my kids would say about this whole situation. I imagined that Melanie would be pretty worried about me while Rich would probably find it hilarious. After all the times we’d argued about mutants, he’d probably laugh his ass off at me turning into one.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door, right before Pinnacle came into the room. He’d looked pretty tall to me yesterday, and since I’d gotten smaller, he now looked enormous. From my perspective, he looked like he was over seven feet tall, though I knew he was ‘only’ 6 foot 4.

“Hey, Al,” Pinnacle greeted me, giving me a curious look. “How are you holding up?”

“Not too bad,” I responded, not about to go whining about my problems. “I could use a beer though.”

Pinnacle chuckled at that and responded, “Sorry, I’m all out at the moment.”

I nodded at that, looking up at Pinnacle and trying not to show how annoying it was to have him towering over me like that. I was used to being the biggest guy in the room, so this was definitely a novel experience for me, and not one I particularly liked. But considering my situation, I had a feeling that I’d better get used to it.

With a body like that and a name like Pinnacle, I would have thought he’d be an arrogant prick. However, he actually came off as a decent guy, though that might just be the fact that he’d brought me a beer last night. Anyone who’d sneak a beer past Dr. Franklin was all right in my book.

“Doctor Franklin wants to talk to you in a bit about the results of your tests,” Pinnacle told me, giving me a weak smile. “You haven’t done any power testing yet, but there a couple obvious things that I think I can give you a heads up about.”

I nodded at that, scowling slightly at the mention of powers. There was something vaguely appealing about the idea of having some kind of power that other people didn’t, but it also made me more than a little nervous. After all, mutant powers could be extremely dangerous, for the mutant as well as everyone else. I’d firmly believed that when I joined Humanity First, and everything that had happened with Rachael had only confirmed it.

I expected Pinnacle to just start telling me whatever it was he wanted to say, but instead he left the room and gestured for me to follow. He led me to an elevator, and I realized that he probably meant to go to the cafeteria. It was about lunch time and I was starting to get a bit hungry, so that was fine by me.

Though I’d been told about the cafeteria, all my food had been brought to me in my room so this was actually my first time seeing it. I was surprised when I looked around and saw that the room looked more like a nice restaurant than anything else.

“Technically,” Pinnacle told me as we went to take a seat, “the Clinic doesn’t own the cafeteria. It…shares it.”

“Shares it?” I asked curiously.

An actual waiter came by and gave us our menus, and Pinnacle waited until he was gone before he explained. “A small group of donors own the building and fund the Clinic. The Clinic gets two floors, and they share the cafeteria here with the other occupants.”

“And who are the other occupants?” I asked, looking through the menu and deciding the burger looked good. I haven’t had a good burger in way too long.

“The Freelancers,” Pinnacle answered.

A hospital orderly who was walking past at that moment joked, “You mean the Freeloaders…”

“We Freelancers get two floors to use as a headquarters,” Pinnacle told me, giving the orderly a glare.

“So, you’ve got a group called the Freelancers,” I commented with a grunt. “Seems weird having a group of heroes sharing a base with a hospital.”

“We’re not actually an official group,” Pinnacle responded with a chuckle. “Basically, we’re all freelancers…solo operators who just share a headquarters. The donor group built a headquarters and then invited local independent heroes to come and use it. It’s their way of trying to support our work…and maybe keep track of us.”

“Freeloaders,” I said with a chuckle, remembering what the orderly had said.

“As the Clinic people like to call us,” he admitted. “It is a good deal for us. We have good facilities, though admittedly, some people use it more as a social club than for actual business.”

“I don’t know,” another man in a costume said as he came and sat into one of the chairs at our table without invitation. “Sharing information on possible opponents sounds like business to me.”

“Or just gossip,” Pinnacle responded. Then he gestured to the newcomer and told me, “This is Asset. He makes gear and weapons for any of the Freelancers who require it.”

I looked at the slender man with sandy blonde hair, noting the goggles on his head and the belt full of odd devices at his waist. “You’re a devisor,” I said grimly.

Asset gave me a curious look, then asked, “What do you know about devisors?”

“They make things that don’t make sense,” I answered.

“That’s true, more or less,” Asset agreed. “Devisors alter the laws of physics to suit their purposes. They can make some impressive things, but their devices can’t be copied by other people.”

I nodded at that, knowing exactly what he meant. I’d once disassembled one of Rachael’s devices to see how it worked, not that it had done any good. Afterwards, I put it back together exactly the way she’d had it, and it refused to work again.

“I’m familiar with devisors,” I said, earning a grim look from Pinnacle, who was obviously thinking of who the source of that experience was.

Asset nodded at that, then told me, “I’m actually a gadgeteer.” At my blank look, he explained, “We have a psychic ability that lets us instinctively understand technology, in one form or another. We deal with normal physics, which means our inventions can be duplicated by others.”

“Doctor Franklin is a low level bio-gadgeteer,” Pinnacle told me. “She has an instinctive understanding of human biology, the kind that might take a baseline doctor decades of experience to even approach.”

“The chef is a gadgeteer too,” Asset added, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. “His specialty is food science, flavor profiles, and that kind of thing, which makes him one of the best chefs in the world.”

At this point, the waiter came over to take our orders. “I’ll have a burger and a beer,” I told him.

The waiter gave me a patronizing smile and said, “I’ll need to see your ID before I can serve you alcohol.”

I snarled in annoyance, realizing that I didn’t have my ID on me. I don’t even remember if I’d had my license with me in my old hospital room before I’d been brought here. It had been so long since anyone had bothered carding me, that I hadn’t even considered the possibility until now.

“I left my license in my other pants,” I said.

“Then I’m afraid I’m not allowed to serve you alcohol,” the waiter responded with the same smile that was probably meant to be pleasant but ended up pissing me off instead.

“Sorry there little lady,” Asset told me with a chuckle, “but you’re a bit too young.”

I glared at Asset, but it was Pinnacle who said, “HE is older than HE looks. He’s going through a late onset manifestation that’s regressing him.”

“Oh,” Asset responded, obviously embarrassed for the mistake. “I’m sorry…” Asset apologized a couple more times, then made some excuses before rushing off.

“I’m sorry for that,” Pinnacle told me once Asset was gone. He stared at me, looking a little uncomfortable. “But the way you’re changing…”

“Just tell me what you wanted to,” I told him gruffly. “What was it you wanted to say about my powers?”

“Of course,” Pinnacle responded, his expression turning serious and professional. “As I said, you haven’t had any power testing yet, but you are demonstrating several obvious ones.”

“Regeneration,” I stated since Dr. Franklin had mentioned that one several times. That morning, she’d cut my finger and I’d watched as the cut healed up right in front of my eyes.

“High level regeneration can slow down the aging process,” Pinnacle told me. “And if powerful enough, even reverse it to a degree.” He stared at me for several seconds, then continued, “But your other changes strongly suggest that you’re an exemplar.”

“An exemplar?” I asked, trying to focus on the conversation rather than why Asset would mistake me for a girl.

“I’m an exemplar,” he told me. “An exemplar four…and an energizer with a power that simulates PK Superman abilities.” He paused at that, then said, “But you don’t need to worry about that at the moment. Right now, we’re talking about exemplars.”

“All right,” I said, waiting for him to continue.

“Exemplars have increased physical abilities,” Pinnacle explained. “Strength, stamina, reflexes, and sometimes other things, depending on your level. At higher levels, exemplars also get the mental package…things like improved memory and intelligence. Basically, exemplars take normal human abilities and just kick them up a notch or five.”

“That sounds interesting,” I said, definitely growing more curious, though it sure as hell didn’t explain all my changes or why he thought I might be one of these exemplars.

“The strength of these abilities vary,” Pinnacle continued. “But every exemplar has a BIT…a Body Image Template. Think of it as a blueprint for your body that forms when you first manifest. No one knows for certain where it comes from, though most of the time it seems to be based off some ideal version of yourself, but not always. However your BIT is formed, your subconscious mind seems to have a lot of influence over it.”

I frowned thoughtfully at that, then asked, “And what does this BIT thing have to do with me?”

“Exemplars change until their bodies match their BIT,” Pinnacle told me, suddenly making it clear.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ribbon that Kimberly had given me, then I absently rubbed it between my fingers as I thought about what Pinnacle had said. The ribbon was oddly comforting, making me feel a little closer to my family.

Pinnacle told me a little more about what kind of things I could expect as a regenerator and an exemplar, though this only left me with even more questions than before. If I was changing to match this BIT thing, then what did my BIT say I was supposed to look like? Considering the way I’d been changing so far and the way Asset had thought I was a girl, I had a pretty bad feeling about it.

After our food came, Pinnacle and I continued talking, though he began asking me about my family. He thought he was being subtle about it, but it was pretty obvious that he was fishing for information about Rachael. And from a few things he said, I found out that he’d been after her for a long time and apparently seemed to consider her his arch-enemy. That was why he’d been so interested in talking to me as soon as I woke up, and probably why he was being so friendly to me now.

“I told you before,” I said, deciding to just cut through the bullshit. “I don’t know where she is and that day in the hospital was the first time I’d seen her in years. The truth is, if I did know where she was, I would have called the cops and turned her in. I love my daughter, but I can’t stand the thought of her being out there and killing people. That ain’t the girl I raised.”

Pinnacle nodded at that, then said, “I know, and I believe you. It’s just…” He paused at that, frowning thoughtfully before he continued, “I’ve run into Lady Havoc more than a dozen times over the years, so I know quite well what she’s like when she’s on one of her rampages. But until now, I’ve never really thought about what she must be like when she isn’t. It’s just strange to think that someone like that started out normal and has a nice family.”

“Diedricks Syndrome,” I spat out bitterly and Pinnacle nodded again, as though that explained everything.

When we finished eating, I reached into my pocket and pulled out Kimberly’s ribbon again, only to pause when I noticed it was already sitting on the table from where I’d left it earlier. Feeling confused, I held up the ribbon I’d just taken from my pocket, then compared it to the one on the table. They were almost identical, with the one I’d just taken out being a few inches longer and feeling just a little softer and smoother.

“What’s wrong?” Pinnacle asked me with a curious look.

“I don’t know,” I responded, feeling a little confused. “Where did this other ribbon come from?” I reached into my pocket again just to make sure there weren’t any more surprises there, and at first, it seemed to be empty, but then my fingers touched something soft and smooth. A moment later, I pulled another ribbon out of my pocket. “What the hell?”

Pinnacle stared at me for a moment, then said, “I take it you’re surprised to find those in your pocket…”

“My granddaughter gave me a ribbon,” I say a little defensively. “For good luck. But now I’ve got a couple more of them popping out of nowhere…”

I reached into my pocket, and it was definitely empty, but as I went to pull my hand out, I felt another strand of ribbon. When I pulled it out and stared at it in disbelief, Pinnacle burst out laughing.

“Unless I miss my guess,” he told me with a grin. “You might be a manifestor too.”

“A manifestor?” I asked him curiously.

“They can make things appear,” Pinnacle explained, gesturing to the small pile of ribbons that were now spread out on the table in front of me. He gave me a thoughtful look, then said, “Try making one appear outside of your pocket…”

I thought it was kind of stupid, but I had to admit that I was kind of curious at the same time. I frowned as I wondered how I could do what he suggested, when I suddenly felt something smooth between my fingers. I looked to my hand and saw that I was holding yet another ribbon. That clinched it. I wasn’t just finding ribbons in my pocket, I was somehow making them.

“At least I’ll be able to entertain the girls,” I said with a chuckle, knowing that Kimberly would get a kick out of this magic trick.

The idea of having mutant powers was still a little disturbing, but I had to admit that being able to summon silk ribbons out of thin air was pretty harmless. I amused myself by making a couple more of them, finding that I could even make them in different colors. Pinnacle just watched me, not saying a word.

Once I was finished goofing off, I started back to the Clinic while Pinnacle went a different direction, saying, “I’m a Freelancer, not part of the Clinic. The only reason Doctor Franklin let me question you immediately after you woke up is because she and I both wanted the same information about what Lady Havoc did to you.”

When I got back to the Clinic, I found Dr. Franklin was standing in the hallway with a blue skinned woman who had a cast over her arm, and the whole thing was in a sling. “Your powers may make you difficult to injure, but they also interfere with normal healing,” Dr. Franklin told the woman. “Unless you go through this procedure, it may take more than a year for your broken arm to heal on its own…”

I stood back and waited until Dr. Franklin was finished, bending down to roll up my pant legs again. My clothes were getting way too loose and baggy on me, and I kept having to grab my pants to keep them from falling down. It was getting really annoying, especially when I thought about what this actually meant.

A few minutes later, I was back in my hospital room with Dr. Franklin. She had a look of grim professionalism on her face, the same look that I’d seen before on doctors who were about to give me bad news. But whatever she had to say, I doubted it could be anywhere near as bad as, “You’ve only got a couple months left to live.”

“I’ve gone through the results of your MRI, X rays, and blood tests,” Dr. Franklin said, looking at my chart and making a quick note. Then she looked me in the eye and said, “Though I can’t determine exactly what your final form is going to look like, I can tell you a few things for certain. Unfortunately, I suspect this won’t be easy to hear…”

“I’m sure I’ve heard worse,” I pointed out, bracing myself for the bad news.

Dr. Franklin gave me a knowing look then said, “From your anatomical changes, hormone levels, and the altered chromosomes in your body, I can say with certainty that you are well on your way to becoming female.”

I stared at her for a moment before carefully saying, “So I’m turning into a girl.”

However, as shocking as that news should have been, I wasn’t really surprised. After Asset had mistaken me for a girl in the cafeteria, I’d taken a peak at my reflection on the way back to the Clinic. It had been easy to see why he’d made that mistake, because if I hadn’t known better, I would have thought I was a teenage girl as well.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Franklin told me, obviously attempting some good bedside manner.

“Well,” I said with a sigh, thinking about the alternative and exactly where I’d been a week ago. “It could be worse.”