Author's Note: Before reading, I recommend reading Baby and Morning first.

He awoke dripping with sweat. The dream again. What is this kid trying to tell me? he thought as he absently rubbed his stomach.

"You okay?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, baby, go back to sleep."

He had been having the same dream for a week now and it still didn’t make any sense.

A little boy keeps crying for his Mama but is always just out of reach...

The last thing he could do was tell Maria. She was worried enough about the baby without making it worse by telling her his dream. He rolled to his side facing away from her and tried to decipher the jumbled pieces of his dream.

She looked at his formidable back. It wasn’t often that he got like this, but it usually meant he was thinking about something he didn’t think he could tell her about.

I wonder how long it will take him to tell me about the dream.

She had seen it a few days ago when she had reached over to comfort him and been assaulted by the images of the little boy. The images had worried her, but not as much as his state of mind right now.

She had been sensing his frustration for the last few days, but knew the only thing she could do was to wait for him to tell her. With the baby supposedly due any day now, he was growing restless, but with their alien and human composition there was no way to know how long it would take. It was almost as if the baby was waiting for something.

She put her hand to his hair, running her hand through it. For some reason it always seemed to comfort him.

***

He drifted back into his restless sleep. The boy appeared again, same as before, but this time it was different. The boy was reaching out his hand, but not to him. There was someone else there. Michael turned slowly. Maria was behind him, intently staring at the boy, reaching her hand to the boy.

As she gripped his small hand, he felt such a wave of emotion that Michael suddenly felt like an intruder. Sensing Michael was there, Maria and the boy reached out to him, bringing him into the circle. The emotions coursed through each of them.

The boy smiled crookedly and placed his hand on her stomach and his other on Michael’s, causing it to glow with a familiar silver iridescence. He quickly glanced at the two and stepped back into the darkness.

***

They both awoke simultaneously. They both finally understood what needed to be done. That the baby wasn’t the object of one parent but both.

Maria put her hand over the tiny silver handprint on her stomach as a much bigger one covered hers.

"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the dream. It just seemed like being what I am always seems to end up hurting you and I didn’t want that to happen."

She placed a finger to his lips. "I understand why you did it. I will always forgive you, no matter what. But I think now would be a good time to call Max."

"Why?"

"I think this is what the baby was waiting for," she said as she gasped in pain. "It figures, the girl always gets stuck with the hard stuff."

***

"No matter what species they are, guys always figure out a way to get out of doing the work!" she yelled.

Max just smiled, knowing she wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

***

Three hours later she gave birth to the newest Czechoslovakian.

Michael could barely breathe, he had a son. But he knew what he had to do. "I know this world is going to be a little mixed up for you because of your parents, but we will always be there to protect you no matter what."

Maria watched as she saw the past leave Michael, knowing that it had finally been set right, that all the damage Hank had done was erased with the arrival of one little individual. Tears fell down her cheeks and a hand began to wipe them away.

"It’s okay baby, he’s finally gone," he whispered into her ear, the emotion evident in his voice.

She looked into his eyes and saw that the old ghosts had been replaced by devotion and love for his son.

"So what are we going to name him?" he asked, clearing his throat. They had never been sure of what it was going to be so they hadn’t picked out a name yet.

She thought for a while. "What about Joshua?"

"And I have the perfect middle name." He grinned mischievously.

"Oh really? And what would that be?"

"Michael."

She laughed. "Of course, I should have known. I mean, we have to keep the M thing going somehow."

"Joshua Michael," he repeated, feeling the way it felt on his tongue. He looked at the tiny bundle he held. "At least he isn’t green," he smirked, as he fingered his son’s already spiky hair.

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