Chapter 4

When Sherman was two, he had wandered away from Mr. Peabody during a visit to Central Park in the late 1800s. It hadn't taken the dog long to find his boy, but the half hour between the toddler's disappearance might as well have been a lifetime.
Mr. Peabody remembered picking up Sherman's scent, and found him by a tree playing with sticks and rocks. Up until that moment when he had scooped the toddler into his arms and held him close, he'd secretly wondered if his affection for Sherman was merely a subconscious method of attempting to be less like a dog, and more like a person. That moment, however, when he embraced that cooing, giggling little boy with glasses, he knew that he honestly without a doubt, loved Sherman. It was the one thing he could not explain. He could give reason for everything, back it up with science, but the love he felt for his adopted son just was.

Now he felt that dread over again as a hysterical Nancy Spring spoke to him on the phone.

"He just ran off!" She sobbed. "We've been driving all over the area, but we can't find him anywhere."

"Keep searching," Mr. Peabody instructed. "Keep someone at your house just in case he's made his way back."

Mrs. Spring sniffled. "I'm losing my baby boy twice."

Mr. Peabody didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he bid his goodbyes and hung up. If anyone could find Sherman, it was him. He tried Sherman's cell phone, and then traced it-only to have it trace back to the Spring residence. He wasted no time hopping on his scooter and driving towards the end of the city.

William felt cheated. As he sat on the sofa, rain tapping softly against the window, he thought about how this was the first time he'd been allowed to stay at home alone, and it was only so somebody would be there just in case Sherman decided to show up. Sherman, the anti-brother who made his life so miserable in the first place.
Alice was with him, and she sniffled from her place at the table eating a bowl of cereal.

"I hope Sherman's alright," she said.

"Who cares about him?" William scoffed. "He doesn't even like us."

Alice's face fell and she began to cry. William immediately felt guilty, and went to comfort her. He gave her a hug and kissed her head, the way their parents always comforted him.

"I didn't mean that Alice," he said. "I'm sure Sherman likes you at least."

Alice shook her head. "No he doesn't. He's scared here. He doesn't like any of us because we're strangers."

William sat in the chair next to her.

"No, we're not," he said, though he knew it was true. "We're his family. I'm his brother and your his sister, and Mom and Dad are his mom and dad too."

Alice stared at him through tearful eyes, shaking her head.

"What if we were sent to his house and Mr. Peabody told us to call him Dad?"

William shrugged.

"But he's not our dad."

"It doesn't matter," his sister told him, pushing her cereal away. "I just mean if that happened. We would keep saying 'You're not our dad' and that's how Sherman feels. Mr. Peabody had him even when he was a baby."

William knew Alice was babbling, but she was making a lot of sense. What if their roles had been reversed? What if he was suddenly sent to live with Sherman's father and expected to fall into place as his son?

"I hope Sherman's okay too," he said.

"Sherman?" Mr. Peabody called through the rain. "Here, Sherman! Sherman, where are you?"

He had gone to the restaurant Sherman had taken off from and judging by Sherman's age, size, physical stamina, and thought process during a blind rage, he calculated he could not have gone far. Maybe seven to eight blocks at the max. Knowing Sherman, he was not still running, but instead hiding.

"Sherman!" He called again, into the rain.

"We checked every covered patio just like you said," Nancy said, jogging up to him with her husband, who was holding an umbrella.

"I called William," her husband added. "He's not back at the house."

Mr. Peabody quickly visualized Sherman's small wet frame pounding through a rainstorm. More than likely, Sherman fell, and to his horror, he noticed glinting on the sidewalk a few feet away. Approaching it, he knelt down and saw it was a shard over very thin glass. Next to it, a piece of black Springs made their way over to him.

"What is it?" Mr. Spring asked.

"It's...nothing." Mr. Peabody flicked it from his paw-fingers. "New plan. Search stores that are open."

"Oh, yeah," Mrs. Spring said. "He could be wandering around one just to stay out of the rain."

After they jogged back down the sidewalk to get in their car, Mr. Peabody continued on foot and made his way to a dead end street that was near a small alleyway that separated two restaurant parking lots. A small canopy only covered one side of the alley, and it wasn't doing a very job keeping the rain off of the trashcans and cardboard boxes that were crammed against the brick wall.

It brought him back to the night he heard faint wailing, and like a ghost, he retraced his steps from seven years ago, walking off of the sidewalk and into the shadows of small, narrow passage. Only this time, he was not afraid of the faint wailing that he heard.

It was music to his ears, the soft crying. Before he knew it, Mr. Peabody was face to face with Sherman, who was sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up-one of them bleeding. Sherman didn't see him yet, for his head was in those knees, his little arms wrapped around his legs as he cried.
Very quietly, Mr. Peabody sat down beside him, but said nothing. He simply listened to Sherman's sobbing, and finally scooted close enough to say in his soft, paternal way, "Sherman?"

Sherman nearly jumped, and when he stared into his father's face, he smiled and threw his arms around him, crying even harder. Mr. Peabody embraced him and kissed his wet face.

"You smell like a wet dog," he teased, though his tone was sincere.

"How did you find me?" Sherman asked, wiping his eyes.

"I returned to the restaurants and traced your steps," his father replied.

Sherman averted his gaze and muttered, "The Springs called you."

"You know better than to run away from your problems," Mr. Peabody said. "You have no idea how worried I was when I received that call."

Sherman let out a long, shuddering sigh.

"I just want to be with you," he said.

"Come on," Mr. Peabody told him. "Let's get out of the rain."

It was the hardest thing for Mr. Peabody to have to take him back to the Springs. William opened the door, and considered letting Sherman have it (verbally) but when he saw Sherman's filthy, wet state with no glasses and scraped knee, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Now, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said, pulling him aside. "I know it's hard, but you have to try."

His words were more convincing than his tone, and when Sherman started to cry, his father had no idea what to say. William crept back into the front hallway to listen, and couldn't believe that Sherman sounded just like he did, when he did not want to separate from his parents. Of course, it had been years since he'd cried about something like that, but thinking about what Alice had said just a few hours before, it seemed familiar.

"Sherman." He heard the dog sigh, but it wasn't an irritable sigh. More like a tired sigh.

William made his way back to the door, and both dog and son looked at him, and then each other. Before any of them could say anything, Mr. and Mr. Spring entered the house, and all but lost their minds when they saw Sherman.

"You're okay!" Mr. Spring exclaimed, falling to his knees and cupping his face in his large hands. "You scared us, Sherman!"

Mrs. Spring was crying. She pulled him against her, and Sherman pulled away. He wished he hadn't seen the hurt on her face, but he did.

"He needs to go home," William said, and everyone looked at him.

His parents started to speak, but William stomped his foot and said, "No! Listen to me! Sherman doesn't belong here!"

"William Isaac Spring!" Mrs. Spring scolded. "How could you say such a thing? Of course he belongs here! He's your brother!"

"Yeah, he's my brother, but he's not your son," William said, looking at Sherman. For the first time, the boys seemed to know what the other was thinking.

"It's sad that he got lost that day," he continued. "And it's sad that we missed out on having him here, but Sherman grew up somewhere else. He grew up with a different dad."

He looked at Mr. Peabody, and the dog held Sherman's hand.

"A dad who loves him," he said. "And we can't just change that just because we found him. You can't just trade your family."

"William…" Sherman said quietly.

His twin brother looked at him, and muttered, "I would have liked having a brother, but I like it more knowing that you're happy."

For several minutes, nobody said anything. The only sound was the rain and thunder outside, and even then, their silence was louder than anything.

"Well, um," Mr. Spring finally spoke. "Sherman, come on, Buddy. I'll help you pack your things."

"Joe, I-" Mr. Peabody started to protest, but when Sherman squeezed hi s paw, he said instead, "I'll assist you."

"Joe-" Mrs. Spring looked at her husband, her eyes full of despair.

"We got what we wanted," Mr. Spring said, smiling sadly at Sherman. "We found our son."

It was very awkward, Sherman packing his things with the help of his adopted father and the biological one. Neither of them said anything, and when Sherman' s things were properly stored away into his suitcases, Mr. Spring offered to drive them to New York.

Mr. Peabody politely declined and called for a taxi instead, using the excuse that he didn't want to put anybody at risk on the wet roads. Everyone really knew it was to reduce the tension. When the cab honked outside, Mr. Peabody tapped Sherman's arm lightly.

"Come along, Sherman," he said.

"Can I at least-" Mrs. Spring choked out. "Can I at least have one more hug?"

Sherman hugged her, and Mr. Spring, and Alice. William, he did not, and the brothers waved to each other instead.

Nothing felt better than stepping into Penthouse, and even though they were both damp and dirty and tired, the father and son collapsed onto the sofa, and dozed off together.

It was nearly eleven when Mr. Peabody awoke, and he slept-walk Sherman to his bed, letting him skip his bath, face washing, and teeth brushing. Sherman passed out again the second his head was on the pillow, and Mr. Peabody stayed with him for a few more minutes.

"I love you, Sherman," he said, and he would make sure to say it every day from then on.

William stirred his cereal around in his bowl, slumped down in his chair. Alice jabbered away as usual, but his parents moved about the house more slowly. Mr. Spring sighed as he picked up his briefcase, and his wife handed him a Poptart.

"Have a good day, guys," he said, smiling sadly. "Will, soccer practice today?"

"No." William put his spoon down.

After his father left for work, his mother told him not to stall and began collecting breakfast dishes. William watched as she went to the kitchen window above the sink and stared out into the rain that was just starting to mist.

"Mommy?" Alice looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Mrs. Spring turned around and walked back to wipe the table with a sponge. "Oh, of course, Honey."

William knew better, but didn't say anything. Sherman had been returned home, and in his two day absence, the house went from a lively celebration of return to a silent mourning of loss once more. All of Sherman's personalized things were put into a box and slid under the bunk beds. The bottom bunk was now a resting place for laundry that needed to be put away.

William's friends didn't say much about Sherman after he explained why his brother was no longer attending school with him. Of course, he had barely put a dent in their lives, so they simply shrugged and talked about soccer and video games, as if he had never existed.

At home, everyone was careful to avoid mentioning Sherman other than he left a sock or his toothbrush. Mrs. Spring wanted to call his home in New York, but decided against it and went to her room to cry instead.

Mr. Spring looked through the old photo albums-the ones that had been tucked away in the attic after the carjacking. The pictures from when the family still had twins. William and Alice sat beside their father on the couch wordlessly and looked with him. Pictures of identical babies covered in applesauce, naked in a tub together, and dressed in matching Cupid costumes made them all smile a little, but it also made them sad.

Sherman couldn't believe how easy it was to fall back into his old life. Mr. Peabody immediately reenrolled him in his former private school and soccer lessons. The two of them continued to travel in the WABAC, going to all sorts of fascinating times like feudal Japan and the Civil War.

It surprised him, one Saturday afternoon, when a mail carrier delivered a certified letter to the Penthouse. Sherman had never received mail before.

"Who sent you a letter, Sherman?" Mr. Peabody asked.

Sherman turned the envelope over in his hand and read the neater-than-his-own print.

William Spring

"I had it first!" Sherman growled, pulling it away. "And besides, it's mine. It's my room and you have to ask permission to use it."

William scowled and took it back. "You put it down! And you only want it back because I want to play with it now."

The two boys fought and tugged, until Mr. Peabody entered the room and began flicking the light switch to get their attention.

"What on Earth is going on in here?" He demanded. "Sherman? William?"

"William took my Apatosaurus!" Sherman whined.

"He was done with it!" William argued. "He put it down!"

Mr. Peabody sighed. "We're about to go visit real dinosaurs and you two are bickering about a model replica? Sherman, you have fifty-two of them. Let William play with the Apatosaurus."

"Fine," Sherman grumbled, handing it over. He quickly regained his spirits and asked, "So are we ready to go, Mr. Peabody?"

"We're just waiting for Alice to get her shoes on," the dog replied. "She' a bit tied up at the moment working the laces." He chuckled at his own joke.

William and Sherman both stared and simultaneously said, "I don't get it."

"I'm ready!" Alice said, skipping into the room with her shoe laces dangling.

"Here," Sherman said. "Let me help you. This is how my dad taught me."

He knelt down and explained in complicated, mathematical detail how to tie a shoelace. Mr. Peabody nodded proudly and asked, "Are we all ready to go?"

"Ready!" The three children said, and Sherman led them excitedly to the large space where the WABAC was kept.

Sherman would keep the letter forever. Even if he and William didn't always feel like brothers, and the Springs did not feel like his family, he would always know that there were people who loved him before he was discovered in a box in an alleyway, and they helped him to find his family, even if they were no longer in it.

Dear Sherman,

How are you? My teacher told me I should write you a letter because people are better at communicating when they write their feelings. I hope you're happy with Mr. Peabody. I think I would be happier with my real family too.

Everyone is good here. Alice is about to start a preschool, and I'm about to finish soccer. I might start baseball or basketball, but Dad says I can't do both, and it's hard to pick.

I know you don't want to live here, but maybe you could come and visit some time. You could be a weekend brother or something.

I guess I should say I was secretly excited to have you home, but I know this is not your home. Maybe I could even visit your house. I would love to time travel! Have you ever seen dinosaurs? Real live ones?

Mom and Dad are inviting you and Mr. Peabody over for dinner this weekend, just so you know. Mom's going to make lasagna and she makes really good lasagna. Dad might even make a chocolate chiffon cake! Does your dad cook? Hopefully not broccoli (yuck!)

We hope you are doing well, and I hope you'll still want to be my brother, even if we have different families.

Your brother (and future soccer star),

William

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it! I'm toying around with the idea of a sequel, but I don't have a lot of faith in my Mr. Peabody dialogue (how do all of these fic writers do it so well?) If you would like a sequel, and have ideas in mind for it, please let me know in the reviews!