The wind filled the ship's sails. All around was the sun and the cloudless sky, the ship pushing through the water at a good rate of knots. Getafix the Druid held the tiller, and hoped things would work out for the best.

At the far end of the rich galley, Obelix stood gazing out at the water. He hadn't said much since they left Atlantis. Asterix's gaze moved toward him. "I'll just go and…" He motioned with his head towards his friend. Getafix nodded.

The wind was bracing on his face as Asterix picked his way through the ropes and poles on the side of the deck to where Obelix stood with his back to him. He stepped up beside him, and draped an arm over the tiny shoulders. To tell the truth, Asterix felt a little lost, too; he was used to looking up at Obelix, not down at him, to relying on his superhuman strength, and completely disappearing into his capacious embrace. On the other hand, it was nice to be able to put his arms all the way around his friend. It was a nice thought to imagine he could make Obelix feel protected and secure, the way his friend had often made him feel.

It was about all he could do for Obelix, now.

Asterix's heart twisted as he realized Obelix was quietly crying again. He'd been doing it, off and on, since he'd learned there was no cure for his affliction. Asterix moved closer and tightened his arm round his friend's suddenly small frame. He was touched to feel Obelix press himself into his side, wrapping a small arm round his waist. "It'll be all right, Obelix," Asterix said softly. "Don't cry."

Instead of answering, his little friend burst into sobs, weaker than they had been when he had first realized his predicament: he was exhausted with crying, losing hope. It made Asterix's heart ache to see it. "Obelix," he said softly. "You'll be all right. Whatever happens, you'll be all right. Our druid Getafix won't stop trying to find an answer. I won't stop trying. We'll get you back to normal."

"I'm never getting back to normal," Obelix hiccupped. He buried his face into Asterix's chest, and Asterix felt his tears soak into his tunic. "I'm never going to be the same again, never, never!"

Asterix stroked his hair, heart going out to his friend. He'd always felt protective of Obelix, even though the man was easily ten times his size: now, tiny as he had become, he reminded Asterix of the little boy he'd defended against bullies, all those years ago. "We won't stop trying. You'll be big again," he said, although he had started to doubt it himself.

"But if I don't? What's to become of me?" Asterix felt a violent shudder go through the small frame in his arms. "I can't hunt. I can't make menhirs. I can't do anything." Obelix swallowed. "I—I suppose… my parents could take me in again… but they're so much older now… and I'd have to leave the village forever—" Obelix burst into such bitter sobs that he started to choke.

"Obelix. Obelix." Asterix knelt to his friend so they were nose-to-nose. "You'll come and live with me. Won't you?"

Little Obelix's eyes met Asterix's. "I…"

Asterix smiled softly, though his heart was breaking. He lifted his hands, placing them on either side of Obelix's face. "I'd be proud to…" But he couldn't finish. Tears blurred his vision and he felt himself choking up. He pulled his friend in close, hiding his face in the red hair. "Obelix, would you let me adopt you?"

"Asterix!" Obelix's small arms wrapped around Asterix's waist, clinging to him like a lifeline. "O Asterix…"

Asterix held on just as tight. He gave up trying to hold back his tears, face still nestled in Obelix's hair. "I couldn't wish for a better—a better—" The words were the very devil to get out. "If I'd… if I'd had a—a son—"

"No!" Asterix felt Obelix's head shake violently, and Obelix pulled himself out of Asterix's embrace. Wounded, Asterix watched his friend take a few paces back. "No. No…"

The hurt in Asterix's heart threatened to crush him, but he had to stay strong for Obelix. Of course his friend, now reverted to childhood, would want a stable household, not a flighty warrior who ran off on missions at the drop of a hat. "All right. Until we find a solution, I'll take you to Vanilla and Obelisc—" he stopped when he realized his friend was still talking, almost to himself.

"…get married… start a family…want to be lumbered with me?"

The words struck Asterix like a thunderbolt. "Obelix!" he cried, grabbing the little one's elbows. "Obelix, look at me. Is it me you mean?"

His friend's dark eyes met his, and for a moment Asterix was transported back thirty years ago, looking into the eyes of the playmate Asterix had sworn to protect. Then Obelix dropped his gaze. "You deserve a wife and children," Obelix mumbled. "You're… you're a good Gaul, Asterix, you don't deserve…"

Asterix angled his head so that Obelix could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I don't deserve what? To adopt the best man I know for a son? To live with my dearest friend for always? Are you bonkers, Obelix?"

"It's too much to ask of you—"

"Silly! It's a gift! It's all I could ever want!" Asterix shook Obelix gently, holding onto him tight. "I couldn't ask for a better son. If I had a little boy, I couldn't love him more! And who cares about having a wife? I've got all the family I want or need." He looked at the face of the little boy he loved so well. "Here. Right here."

Little Obelix's lower lip trembled, just as it did when he was an adult. This time, Asterix was able to enfold him fully when Obelix flung himself into his arms. "Asterix," he sobbed, burrowing into his hold. "Asterix!"

"You're my family, silly," Asterix murmured into Obelix's hair, kissing the crown of the little boy's head over and over. "Your home is with me. It'll work out. It's not as though it's the first time a child's been raised by a bachelor: Getafix raised Cacofonix, remember?"

"Yeah…" sniffed Obelix. "But.. the quarry… the…"

"Obelix," Asterix smiled, "the quarry can wait. You can go to school until you grow up enough to work in the quarry and go on adventures again."

"Don't want to go to school," Obelix muttered, sounding so like his younger self that Asterix felt a pang, thrown back to thirty years ago.

"Only for a little while. Until you're older. You can't work menhirs at your age."

Obelix held on to Asterix tighter, eyelids drooping, exhausted from crying. "Don't want to," he said sulkily, but Asterix recognized the tone: 'I don't want to, but I'll do as I'm told because I trust you to know it's the right thing to do.'

Asterix lifted Obelix up, suppressing a pang at the thought of how his big friend usually picked him up as though he weighed no more than a feather. "Time for a nice nap," he said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. He had meant every word he said—there was no way anyone else would take care of Obelix if, Toutatis forbid, he remained a child—but he'd always miss his big, cheerful, life-loving friend. Who was right here. But he needed someone to take care of him. As a child, he needed a parent. Asterix shook his head: it was all too confusing. They'd made plans, and that was that for now. Time to concentrate on the present.

Asterix turned his full attention to the warm weight in his arms. "Going below deck for a while," he called to Getafix, feeling a pang in his heart as a pair of small arms twined trustingly round his neck. He did know one thing: He'd take care of Obelix, as he'd done all his life. And doing what was best for his friend—that wasn't new, it came naturally.

"I'm sorry, Asterix," the high-pitched voice hiccupped into his shoulder. It was so unfamiliar – he was used to Obelix's deep bass rumble. And yet in another way, it was so familiar, the same tearful apologies Asterix had heard every time he'd been in a punch-up and Obelix had felt guilty. Every time he'd tried to explain to Obelix that it wasn't his fault.

"It's all right," Asterix said, carrying his friend below deck. He sat down on the edge of a bunk with his friend in his lap.

"All this is my fault," Obelix muttered, tears still soaking into Asterix's shirt.

Asterix couldn't deny it. Try as he might, however, he couldn't bring himself to feel any anger towards Obelix for his rash action, as Getafix did: he fully understood what had driven him, and felt for him. He only wished that he, Asterix, could have paid for the rash action instead of having to watch Obelix suffer. Taking a deep breath, he brought a hand up to cradle the back of his small friend's head, rubbing his scalp with the pads of his fingers. "It doesn't matter. We all do silly things sometimes," he said, holding Obelix even tighter and rocking him gently. "It'll be all right."

"Asterix?" Obelix said as Asterix settled him into bed and covered him up.

"Yes?" Asterix said, sitting down next to Obelix with his back against the headboard, staying close.

"Did you… mean what you said? About…"

Asterix didn't let him finish. "I wouldn't dream of letting anyone else raise you. Your home is with me for always," he said firmly. Hearing Obelix begin to sob, he pulled him close, feeling the small body nestle into his side. "Being your, well," it sounded strange, but oh well, "being your dad would be an honor to me. Because you're my favorite Gaul in all the world."

"R... really? But—you could have a better son—someone bright, like you—"

"Better?" Asterix cut him short indignantly. "Obelix! Don't ever say that! I'm proud of you. You're brave and gentle and kind. I couldn't wish for a better friend, a better little boy, and if you ended up being my son…" The word still sounded strange in his mouth. "I'm not giving up, mind, I'll still keep looking for a way to get you back to normal. But don't ever think I wouldn't want you as a son. You've a heart the size of the Roman Empire. You're loyal, you're dependable, you'd never leave a friend in the lurch. You're all I could ever want."

"R…really, Asterix?"

"Really." Asterix put his arms round his friend and hugged him tight. "You're the best little boy a Gaul could have."

"Thanks… Asterix…" Worn out from crying, Obelix snuggled into his side and fell asleep almost immediately. Asterix stroked his hair. He moved slightly, preparing to get out of bed and leave his friend to his nap: Asterix needed to get above deck and into the crow's nest, check things out. He had two people to keep safe now.

"It'll be all right, Obelix," Asterix whispered again, and for the first time, he began to believe it.