My time within the strange dreamspace with Slip crafting our new form seemed to be complete.

But much like how the Intuition ability continually worked away in the back of my mind in an effort to tick over to one hundred and to bring about whatever revelation might come after, there was something else at work within my mind.

What's going on? I thought, Aren't we done?

We can't finish yet, Slip resonated.

Why? I thought, Did we miss something?

It was then within the endless swirling dreamspace where I had found myself in, a place where Slip's thoughts and mine entangled in an effort to craft my new self in the real world, a simple white door emerged in my mind's eye.

Where does it lead? I thought.

Where you intended, Slip resonated, cryptically.

I need to go through this door to wake up? I thought.

By your own design, yes, Slip resonated.

My own design? I thought, not understanding.

I hadn't planned for there to be a white door. Nor did I know where it led to.

Is it safe? I thought.

It's unavoidable, Slip resonated, Unless you wish to remain here indefinitely.

Guess it doesn't leave me with much choice, does it? I thought.

Slip didn't respond this time.

There was nothing for it. And it seemed as if I had all the time in the world to make my choice to go through the door, because within the dreamspace time didn't exactly pass normally. From what I could gather it passed through interior milestones; every time Slip and I had decided on a new aspect of my new form, and locked it into place (for our real body within its cocoon-like structure to get work making it a reality), it was then, after the choices had been made, that a sense of passing time was felt.

So, in much the same way, it seemed as if I had made my decision to go through the white door in the blink of an eye.

Beyond the white door was a place so familiar it threatened to bring me to tears. It was a small living room, on the second floor of my childhood home. And it looked every bit like my childhood home's living room because it had everything from the beige carpet, to the old red sofas, and the big CRT television.

My own appearance was the same as it was when I had entered The Shops pub upstairs office and begun the cocooning-transformation. From the neck-up I was wearing The Handsome Mask, and from the neck down I was the Slip-bodied, exposed red-tendons and sinewed monstrosity I had become. My current form seemed all the more ridiculous and grotesque in such a familiar and mundane space. Over my shoulder, on a shelf, were around fifty little teddy bear statues, each teddy bear doing something cute like holding a balloon, or pushing a baby stroller, or reading a newspaper.

Mum collected these, I thought.

I also remembered Mum had later sold her whole collection in a pawn shop for some extra money when we moved out of my childhood home.

The recollection of that caused a kind of ache in my chest. Beneath the shelf, taking up the majority of the middle section of the cabinet, was a large fish tank. Within the tank were three terrapins. The water was a little mirky and in need of replacing. And some dried prawns bobbed along the top of the tank water where the terrapins hadn't yet finished eating their food.

At some point in the future Mum would release them out into the back garden to die as a way to get rid of them. She'd make up a lie that she had released them in the lake or something like that. But I had been there when she had done it, and I hadn't done anything about it.

Why didn't I do anything to stop Mum from doing that? I wondered.

Another ache. Another regret. I realised then I didn't like this room, even if it was a familiar place.

And then the sound of an energy blast filled the living room. I turned with a start, raising my fists ready to fight and defend myself. Only to find a little boy no older than seven standing in the middle of the living room prancing around in his pyjamas fighting imaginary enemies. On the TV an episode of Mega Fighters M was playing. It was the episode where the great blue bubblegum-like alien monster went on a rampage turning many of its enemies into sweets.

"Burgess?" I said.

The little boy stopped fighting the air and turned to face me. Seeing the face of my younger self was significantly worse than any of the other painfully nostalgic things. Because the little boy with the blue eyes and fluffy hair looked up at me with an all too recognisable studious glare. It was the kind of glare that made you feel like all the worst parts of your thoughts were on display.

"You look so ugly," said Little Me, "And old."

"Hey," I said, "I've been through a lot, alright?"

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I gestured around the room.

"So what's this?" I said.

"You made it, remember?" said Little Me.

My eyes narrowed.

"I did?" I said.

Little Me walked over to the sofa and sat down.

"You asked Slip to make a copy of yourself so you wouldn't forget," said Little Me.

"Yeah," I said, "But I meant, you know, a more up-to-date version of me."

"Should have been more specific," said Little Me.

"Yeah," I said, scratching my temple, "So, Slip mentioned I had to come here or else I wouldn't be able to complete my transformation. Are you holding it up or something?"

"Yep," said Little Me.

He was sitting sideways on the sofa with his knees brought up to his chest. I noticed then he was wearing Disney Hercules pajamas. Boy, I loved those pajamas. Little Me patted the seat sofa cushion in front of him.

"Sit with me?" he said.

I did as he asked and sat down, the adult weight of my body sinking into the old sofa seat. The living room felt small, the way going back to your old primary school class and seeing all the tiny tables and chairs makes you feel like a giant. I had returned to my primary school on occasion because my little sister was still in primary school at the time.

My eyes couldn't help but linger on the TV. Gosh, it really was the old black one which had seemed huge at the time. The TV remote sat on the arm of the couch was a huge blocky black brick wrapped in lots of cellotape.

Ouch, I thought, because of how hard the nostalgia was kicking in.

"So what do you want?" I said.

Little Me moved onto his knees and reached over me for the TV remote AKA 'the gadget' as we used to call it when I was growing up.

Little Me pressed down on one of the gadget buttons, and the episode of Mega Fighter's M changed to show something which startled me.

It was the moment I attempted to murder Soaks atop the Fauncherton Green estate tower block roof. Little Me paused the moment just as Miss Toontastic had stopped me from stabbing Soaks with his own salamander-like fang through the throat. Instead the fang, veered of its course, had gone through Soaks's lower jaw and into his mouth. Painful, sure, but it hadn't killed him.

I raised a hand over Little Me's eyes.

"Hey, hey," I said, "You're too young for this."

"You did it," said Little Me.

"I know," I said, "And I wish I didn't."

"But you did," said Little Me.

"I know," I said, through gritted teeth, "Change the channel."

Little Me thumbed the gadget again – which wasn't easy given the buttons hardly worked because of how worn out it was – and changed the channel again.

This time it showed Xandra and me laughing and playing in the mud on the rugby pitch.

"Yuck," said Little Me, and he changed the channel again.

Finally, the channel Little Me decided to settle on was a shot of me standing by an old metal bench in the dark in Stowchester. And there, though obscured in shadows, was my friend, N.

"Who's that?" Little Me said, pointing to the dark shape of N on the right-side of the screen.

"You know who that is," I said, "That's our best friend. You haven't met him yet. But you should remember him."

"We have a best friend?" said Little Me, amazed.

Ouch, I thought, again. I'd almost forgotten how desperately lonely and in want of a real friend Little Me had been.

"Yeah," I said, "He's great."

"Where is he?" said Little Me.

"I don't know," I said, "He decided to go on the run, and I was the idiot who thought getting evacuated by the government was a good idea."

"That was really dumb," said Little Me.

"Yep," I said.

"What's his name?" said Little Me.

"Why?" I said.

Little Me shrugged. I looked around the room as if someone might be spying on us.

"We're completely alone here, right?" I said.

"Yep," said Little Me, "Not even Slip can come in here."

"So I can tell you and you can keep it a secret?" I said.

"Yep," said Little Me.

"...okay," I said, "His name's Nathan. That enough for you?"

"...erm," said Little Me, picking his nose, "Is Nathan powered?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Is he okay?" said Little Me.

"I don't know," I said, "I hope so."

"Burgess?" said Little Me.

"Yeah?" I said.

"If he's our friend then why did you not go with him when he needed you?" said Little Me.

"Because," I said, feeling very on the spot and a little aggravated that Little Me would even have the nerve to ask such a question, "I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. Clearly I was wrong."

"So," said Little Me, "If you see him again what are you gonna do?"

At first I thought I had an easy answer to that question. But the more I thought about it, the more I found I didn't have an answer.

"Can we change the subject?" I said, "Or was that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Little Me got up then and raced over to the cupboard where Mum's teddy bears were as well as the three terrapins. Opening the cupboard, Little Me took out a handful of white paper and then hurried back over to me.

"I drew these," he said.

And he set the papers on my lap.

"And what are these exactly?" I said.

And then I understood. And a joyful smile spread across my face.

"Oh," I said, going from one drawing to the next, "You have some design additions in mind for my new look?"

"And a finishing move," said Little Me.

He pinched out one of the sheets and held it up to me. The drawing, though crude and done with a mix of pencil and felt pen, got across the idea pretty well.

"Azad's going to throw a fit if he sees this," I said.

"Who's that?" said Little Me.

"Our new rival," I said, "And a potential new best friend."

"And who was that other?" said Little Me, "The girl?"

"She's a friend too," I said.

"Is she your girlfriend-" Little Me started to say.

I put a hand over his mouth.

"We'll talk about that when you're older," I said.

Little Me slobbered spit into my palm. I pulled my hand away and a line of saliva dripped from my hand.

"Gross," I said.

Little Me giggled.

"Okay," he said, "You can go on one condition."

"Which is?" I said.

Little Me stood up on the sofa.

"I need you to promise," he said, pointing at me.

"...yeah…?" I said.

"Promise," said Little Me, again, "To have fun!"

"And if I don't?" I said.

"Then I'll be mad," said Little Me, crossing his arms.

"Well, wouldn't want that, would we?" I said.

Little Me pouted.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Okay," I said, "I'll promise to have fun. And I'll try and use some of these, just for you, okay?"

I held up some of his drawings. And then, to my surprise, Little Me wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I had to fight back tears.

I didn't realise how much I needed this, I thought.

Since there wasn't really a time limit to my spending time with Little Me, I decided to stay and watch a couple classic reruns of Mega Fighters M, followed up by Out of Time Samurai, and, of course, Ruff Rover. After many hours of this Little Me eventually fell asleep. I took a blanket from the top of the sofa and draped it over him.

And then, quietly, I started to leave the room.

"Burgess?" said Little Me in a small voice which was only half-awake.

"Yeah?" I whispered back.

"Don't forget me," said Little Me, "I'm always here."

"I won't," I said.

"Promise?" said Little Me.

"Promise," I said.

Satisfied, Little Me turned over and went to sleep. And then, with a heavy heart, I left back through the white door.

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