Chapter Text
Loud banging rang through the empty halls of the Zapolyarny palace basement. Childe could tell Dottore was in his lab. (The man barely left.) He waited at the door, his foot tapping impatiently.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Click!
Finally, he opened the damn door.
"Seriously, Dottore, would it kill you to let people in faster? You have clones for Archon's sa— what… which one are you?"
Instead of one of the usual clones (or even the child clones Dottore had running around), it was a teenager.
Dottore had been experimenting. He believed that if he could somehow replicate his cloning process, he could conserve the youth of his current body, guaranteeing immortality without needing to replace it. He was tired of making new bodies and wanted to be young forever.
While he was working, he encountered a small problem. Aging occurs when cells begin to deteriorate, or, in simple terms, stop working like they're brand new. And he's already nearing his 50s. He technically could make a new body and start there, but that would defeat the purpose of this experiment. So, he opted to use a different method. He was using his clones' DNA to make a serum that would activate his cells as if he were still young. What could go wrong?
He smiled, holding up the finished product— the first version of his immortality. But he had no test subjects at the moment. He had sent his clones on missions, and the results wouldn't show up on a younger clone unit several years later. He'd need to use it on himself.
Using a needle was fairly easy, and it's not like this was the first time he'd ever tested on himself. But once he injected the serum, he began to feel… odd. He was always feeling bizarre. He was a clone of his former (and very dead) self. But this was worse than usual. He felt the room spin, and the effects stopped as quickly as they started. He took a step away from the table and his vision went black.
Loud banging was the first thing he heard when he woke up. He should probably see who it was. If it was Pierro, then he was fucked because he killed too many guards. He sighed and held onto a nearby chair to stand up, and… the world felt slightly bigger. Or had he gotten smaller? His clothes were loose on his body, his shoes were a little too big, and his hair was longer. The banging grew louder and much more impatient. He pushed the door open to find Childe waiting.
"Finally, you opened the door. Seriously, Dottore, would it kill you to be faster? You have clones for Archon's sa— which one are you?" Childe asked, stunned at the sight.
"What are you talking about, brat?"
His voice… was no longer deep and smooth. It sounded higher, and was that a fucking crack?? It sounded like Zandik's, one of his younger clones.
"Are you a new clone? I thought Dottore didn't like letting his younger clones wander."
He didn't. Which meant the experiment succeeded. Too well. He scrambled to look into the nearest mirror, not bothering to close the door. He could barely recognize himself under the baby fat and soft features. He was young again. Too young.
"I look 14…. This is a disaster!"
He looked back at the open door, where Childe stared at him wide-eyed. Those disgusting fish eyes had no right to look at him that way. Before, he would have scolded the young man and told him to leave. But there was a certain anxiety and jumpiness that seemed to be chained to the very concept of youth. His childhood didn't make things better. A chill ran down his spine. Had Childe always looked so… intimidating.
"Get out of my lab… now. And don't tell anyone," Dottore said, a scowl settling on his face as if it had always belonged there, even in his youth. Probably why he had so many wrinkles on his forehead. The bitter bastard couldn't stop frowning.
"I came here to tell you there's a Harbinger meeting. We're late. Pantalone would have told you this, but he couldn't be bothered. He said something about you being an ass and the last time he tried telling you anything, you bit him. Also something else about having to get rabies shots just in case. Do you have rabies? Don't come close, I'd rather not risk infecting my siblings."
A meeting? Now?? He can't possibly go like this. He was shorter than Scaramouche for Archon's sake! If he didn't know any better, he'd say he's as tall as Puncinella. And that old man is the size of three apples (probably not). He'll have to cancel and make an excuse. Childe is easily bribed so he might have a ticket out.
"If you tell Pierro I'm sick, I'll give you all the mini rune guard models you want for your siblings."
A tempting offer….
"Nah," Childe smirked, "Pierro said attendance is mandatory. No matter what."
Small feet dragged along the corridors of Zapolyarny palace. All of his clothes were too big, so he needed to borrow one of his clone's outfits. He looked ridiculous… he was in flats. FLATS. He looked just like a student again. It reminded him of his past and it was humiliating. He never allowed his younger clones to leave the lab because the thought of what was essentially his baby pictures in the flesh running around the palace made him cringe. This was worse because now he was the baby picture.
Childe was walking in front. He'd normally be just as fast, but he had been short until he turned 17. So right now he looked like an actual child next to the formerly younger man. And he had to run to catch up to his walk.
The meeting room was large and intimidating, especially for someone so vertically challenged. When he walked into it, everyone's heads turned. Ignoring the stares, he sat in his seat, waiting for this torture to begin.
Pierro cleared his throat. "Very well, shall we begin?"
The Harbingers exchanged looks.
"I'd rather talk about the elephant in the room…." Pantalone sighed.
"You mean mouse?" Scaramouche chuckled.
Several other Harbingers nodded in agreement.
"Very well…. Young clone, would you mind explaining why Dottore sent you instead of being here himself—," Pierro began.
"I am Dottore," Dottore scowled.
If Dottore was told to describe the tension in the room, he'd call it insufferable. The expressions varied from shocked to amused, but they were all things Dottore hated seeing.
"Well, I guess we cannot allow you to go unsupervised. It would be a risk to everyone around you," Pantalone snickered.
That wasn't amusing at all. Dottore didn't understand what made this situation so funny. He had turned 14, so this shouldn't have been funny.
"Good idea, who wants him?" Arlechinno huffed.
"We each have to watch over him until he either turns back on his own or finds a way to turn back." Pierro frowned. "We must be respectful to our colleague, even in his youthful state."
If Dottore knew his colleagues well enough (and he did), he could tell they would be anything but respectful. This was going to be the longest few days (hopefully, only a few days) of his life, and he was old.
While he scowled and grumbled like the old man he should be, the Harbingers debated who should get the first shift of "Dottore watch". Since Childe was the first to find out, they decided to hand all responsibility to him first. It was stupid, but it was all they had. No one wants to deal with Dottore. Childe didn't either, but it couldn't be helped. He was just that good with kids. Dottore doubts that, but Childe seems confident.
"Ok, Dottore, I guess you're with me. So, how long do I have to babysit this guy?" Childe asked nervously.
"Just a day. Then it'll be Arlechinno's turn since she kindly volunteered earlier," Pierro said.
"I never—," Arlechinno argued before being interrupted.
"You're next. End of story."
It was settled. Childe would have the first day, and then Arlechinno had to pick things up from there. The rest of the babysitting schedule was arranged throughout the meeting, and then the actual meeting commenced. But Dottore wasn't paying attention, he was too busy thinking how horrible of an idea it was to keep him supervised. He was a grown man! In a child's body…. Maybe being supervised wasn't such a horrible idea, he's always been a bit insane. And having someone to reach higher shelves would be nice. Right now he probably couldn't reach his things even if he tried. He was usually tall, so he put all his equipment on taller shelves so the younger clones couldn't reach them. Now he was cursing himself.
"So, Dottore… ready to go?" Childe asked.
Was the meeting done already? That was fast.
"I suppose. Are you going to take me back to my lab?" Dottore asked.
"No way. I have things to do today, you'll have to come with me." Childe smiled.
"Goodie… what things shall I be doing with you?" If looks could kill, Childe would already be dismembered on an operating table.
"We're gonna visit my siblings. I promised them I'd visit today."
That was worse than any punishment from Archon, Sovereign, or even Celestia. Children. He had to be around children.
"How… lovely."