Foreword:

Well, here's the bonus chapter. I'll go ahead and admit that I had a REEAAAALLLY hard time picking a winner. I had the list narrowed down to multiple people who each left several beautiful reviews, and I was having trouble just picking one review for each of them, much less just picking one winner. So, I just gave up. I didn't want to tear my hair out trying to pick my favorite review. I'd rather spend that time and energy writing. My decision, as such, was to opt for the simple solution: pick more than one winner. So, I've done two prize scenes, one for each of my winners (I actually wanted to pick three winners, but I'll complain more about that later :P). Before we get started, I'd like to thank both of my winners for giving me such awesome material to work with. I had lots of fun writing both of these bonus sections, and I hope you'll be satisfied with the result. I'd also like to again thank ALL of my readers, and I hope to see you all come back for my upcoming fanfiction projects. :)

Premiate [pree-mee-eyt] – to grant a prize or an award to.

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And now, without further ado, the runner-up of 'By Jove, You've Rocked My Review' is… *dramatic drumroll*… Misty-gold! *fanfare*

This golden girl left a veritable bouquet of meaningful, insightful, emotionally-charged reviews detailing her thoughts on the story, how the characters were growing and changing, and most importantly—how everything made her feel. The feelings of our readers are very important to us authors, and I wish I could have offered a prize to every wonderful person who shared their feelings about the story with me. Since that clearly isn't feasible, I chose the person who I thought put the most heart and soul into communicating their feelings. :) For her prize she requested the opening scene from chapter 23, "Instauration," from a certain little brother's perspective. Time for more feelings, it seems! XD

It had been a strange couple of weeks for TJ Botsford.

When his sister had told him and Mom and Dad that she was WordGirl, he'd thought she was joking. When she proved it before their eyes, he'd thought he was dreaming. And for some time after that, he hadn't known what to think.

His sister was WordGirl.

What was he supposed to do with that? Should he be happy? Upset? Honored? Ashamed? Worried?

He didn't know. He couldn't decide. Right now he just felt… confused. He hated feeling confused. If there was one thing he'd always prided himself on, it was his confidence. Even when he didn't understand something, it rarely bothered him. That was why his best friend Johnson looked up to him so much. Johnson was the one who hesitated and wavered and had to stumble through a slow, frustrating mental process in order to figure anything out. Not TJ. TJ was always sure of himself about everything.

But not about this. Somehow, this was different.

TJ grumbled under his breath and turned his focus back to rummaging around under his bed. He didn't like pondering over matters of the heart. He was nine years old, for crying out loud! He would rather keep digging through the clutter in his messy room looking for his missing baseball glove.

Even that distraction, however, got irritating after half an hour, and he impulsively huffed out of his room and down the hall, snapping as he stepped into the doorway of the nearest room, "Becky, I can't find my—WHOA!"

He jerked backwards, eyes bugging at the sight of his sister hovering in midair between the bed and the ceiling. Becky gasped and dropped the bag that she'd been holding, spilling its contents all over her bed. Then she turned to face him with her own wide-eyed expression.

The shock wore off almost as fast as it had come, but TJ could still feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"Oh, sorry, TJ," Becky mumbled, looking and sounding as embarrassed as TJ felt, and she landed gracefully on the floor next to the bed.

"No, that's—that's okay," TJ said, trying not to let his own shame show on his face. He reached for his chest as though to still his heartbeat and let loose a sigh to buy time while he thought of an excuse. "I'm just—still getting used to it, that's all."

It was true enough.

A monkey laugh drew his eyes to Becky's bed, where TJ noticed for the first time that Bob was lounging and smiling mischievously. The siblings both frowned at him together, and he responded with a shrug and started picking up the stuff Becky had spilled.

Oh, that's right… Bob is Captain Huggyface.

TJ had to keep reminding himself of that fact. It was hard enough accepting that one member of his family had a secret life as a superhero. As unsuited as Becky still seemed to the role of WordGirl, the idea of Bob the fridge-raiding diaper-wearing fraidy-monkey being WordGirl's sidekick was almost enough to make TJ reconsider his 'dreaming' theory.

His baseball glove wasn't worth staying in this awkward situation any longer, so TJ turned to leave, hoping he could sneak away before—

"Um… TJ?"

Aw, nuts…

"Yeah?" he answered, trying to sound casual as he looked back at Word—at Becky.

Oddly enough, the girl was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful and maybe even a little worried. He was about to ask what she wanted again, when she took a breath and quietly said, "You're not—mad at me, are you?"

TJ was surprised. She looked nervous—scared, even. Did she really care that much what he thought of her? He figured that, being a superhero and all, WordGirl would have no need to trouble herself about one boy's opinion of her.

But, TJ remembered suddenly, she wasn't just WordGirl. She was Becky, and Becky had always cared about her family. It was an important part of who she was, like justice was to WordGirl. That realization, obvious though it was, gave TJ what he could only identify as a whole new respect for her. Both of her.

Great. Now she had him thinking about things like 'identity' and 'respect.' He was too young for this…

"Why would I be mad?" TJ asked.

Becky shifted uncomfortably, looking down at her fingers as she tapped them together. "For… being WordGirl? Or, for not telling you I was WordGirl? I don't know…"

He wasn't really sure how to respond to that. Even before the mind-blowing revelation that she was WordGirl, TJ had never given much thought to how he felt about her. She was just—his sister. That had always been the simple and self-explanatory nature of their relationship. When he was little they had fought more than they got along, but he'd never had a problem with her beyond what he thought was normal.

He had also never contemplated whether or not he actually liked her. Not the way he'd constantly thought about how much he liked WordGirl. The way he liked WordGirl was different, though. He liked her because there wasn't really anything not to like. She was a superhero. A celebrity. A far-off wonder with no visible flaws. Even though he'd always known WordGirl had a secret identity, he'd never really considered that, in private, she might be a laughably normal girl with all the quirks, bad habits, and annoying tendencies of a typical big sister.

Now he was being forced to face all these conundrums that he used to be content to never think about. Worse, it looked like he would also have to decide how he actually felt about it all. That's all he needed right now—to add even more complexity to his already frustrating struggle to reconcile his long-admired heroine with the smarty-pants sister he'd grown up with. He was waaay too young for this.

"I don't really know," he said at last. "I don't think I'm mad. I'm more like…"

He trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain something he didn't even really understand…

After a moment, Becky jumped in to 'help.' "Repulsed? Disconcerted? Discombobulated?"

TJ blinked, feeling even more confused than he had a few seconds ago. "I… don't know what any of those words mean."

Becky opened her mouth and stuck a finger in the air, and TJ threw up his hands to stop her before she could rattle his nine-year-old brain even worse. "I don't need you to define 'em, Becky! I just…"

He trailed off again, face downcast, mind swimming. Becky remained silent, but her tense, fidgety posture told him that she was on pins and needles waiting to hear what he would say.

What would he say? How did he really feel? He suspected that if he thought about it too hard, he'd only confuse himself even more and possibly give himself a headache. So, he decided to just attack this head-on, like ripping off a band-aid.

"It's super weird," he blurted out. "And it'll probably take a really long time for it to stop being super weird… but once it does, I mean…"

He went quiet for one more moment, then smiled up at Becky and simply said, "My sister is WordGirl. How awesome is that?"

And there it was. Somehow, by asking him how he felt, she had also helped him decide how he felt. No wonder she was such a good hero, if she could help people without even trying.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, Becky's nervous, dejected expression slowly broke into a tearful smile.

"Almost as cool as you," she replied, her voice quivering with emotion.

"Oh, no," TJ said, taking a step back. "If you're gonna mush out on me, I'm outta here."

With that he made a break for it, dashing back into his own room and slamming the door behind him. He'd just have to find that stupid glove later. He'd been wrong, though… it had been worth sticking around.

He grimaced and shook his head, ashamed at the sappiness of the sentiment. However, despite his most stubborn self-rebuke for his weakness, he found himself smiling.

She thinks I'm cool.

The thought warmed him inside, and he wondered for a moment whether it was directed at WordGirl or Becky. Then, in a small moment of clarity, he realized that it didn't matter… and that somehow warmed him even more.

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And now, ladies and gentlemen, the Grand Prize winner of 'By Jove, You've Rocked My Review' is… *another dramatic drumroll*… CorinnetheAnime! *more fanfare*

Out of everyone who reviewed with any consistency, CTA was the one who most consistently left the most descriptive, most detailed, and most thought-through reviews. She analyzed everything she could think to analyze, from the characters' subconscious motivations to the reasoning behind the chapter titles (sometimes she even came up with a better reason than I did and I was all, "Suuuuure… let's go with that." *innocent grin*). Such consideration and attention to even the minutia of the story is everything I could hope for from a reader. :3 I gave her a little slack on her prize as her request is one that technically requires two scenes to adequately explore: Tobey's running away in chapter 18 and later homecoming in chapter 22, through the eyes of the person he hurt most.

Claire McCallister awoke to a clattering noise. It sounded like it had come from downstairs. She was alert within seconds, flinging off her blankets. What was that? A burglar?

Tobey!

Concern for her son leapt to the forefront of her mind, and she dashed into the hall as quickly and quietly as she could, not even taking the time to throw on her slippers or glasses. The tail of her nightgown swished through the air behind her, the wood floor was cold against her bare feet, and the darkness worsened her already poor vision. The door to Tobey's upstairs bedroom was open, and swinging gently on its hinges. Claire burst inside, and her breath caught in her throat when she didn't see him in bed.

"Tobey?"

She turned on the light and frantically searched the room, squinting desperately and repeating his name over and over. She tripped over something hard and heard a metallic clank. It was that wretched robot he'd been working on. The one that had provoked his last temper-tantrum when he discovered that its behavior program had been deleted. His robot was here, but there was no sign of Tobey. He wasn't in his bed, under his bed, or in the closet.

He'd vanished.

Claire's pulse throbbed rapidly, painfully, as bizarre and frightening theories formed in her mind. Had he been kidnapped? Snatched by some sick opportunist or one of those dreadful villains he insisted on associating with? Would he be held for ransom? Would she receive a note the next morning?

She tried to calm herself, but her rational mind was failing her at the moment. The only sensible thing she could think to do was call the police and search the house for Tobey while they were on their way.

No sooner had the thought finished taking form, she was already jetting down the stairs, tact and subtlety abandoned. She was about to dive for the phone, when she noticed a faint shimmer on the floor. A thread of hopeful curiosity held back her panic for just a moment, and she stepped forward to investigate.

Kneeling down and squinting, she could at last see that the object was a flower vase that had shattered. The water that had spilled across the floor was reflecting moonlight. She looked up to find the source of the light, and saw that the back door was open, swinging lightly like Tobey's door had been. Through it she could see into the back yard, where her son stood unharmed.

Claire heaved a deep, conflicted sigh. She didn't know if she was more relieved or frustrated. To think she might've had a heart attack or called a SWAT team to the house over this. Just what on Earth did that boy think he was doing at this hour?

She slowly walked to the open door, scanning the yard beyond as it gradually came into view with her approach. A familiar but unwelcome sound cut into the quiet, and she watched the robot that she'd tripped over not two minutes ago hover down to her son.

Claire drew a breath sharply through her nose, her former worry giving way to anger. This was the last straw. Her heart couldn't take this anymore. Tobey feared her. Oh, that at least he certainly did. But he didn't respect her. At least, not enough to hearken to her instruction and temper his passions for his own good. For all her best efforts, he seemed to have only become more bold and belligerent in his villainous pursuits. Why, if WordGirl hadn't stopped him, he might have destroyed the corporate headquarters of one of the world's wealthiest companies not two weeks ago!

She'd tried everything to get through to him—everything she could think of—except one thing. When it had first occurred to her in a moment of hopeless despondency, she'd been hesitant to even consider it. It seemed excessive. Cruel, even. She didn't want to force her hand so ruthlessly. However, it was beginning to look as though she had no other choice. Tobey didn't respect property, didn't respect morality, didn't respect the law, and didn't even respect her. If he was going to start sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night on top of all that, she couldn't afford to hold back even the most desperate of measures to put a stop to it. She had to teach him to respect something, else he really would be sent to jail at his first teenage mood swing. She couldn't allow that to happen. Not if there was something, anything that she could do to prevent it.

Steeling herself, she erected her spine and stepped resolutely out into the cold night air.

Tobey didn't notice her at first. He was too absorbed in the buttons of the remote he held, watching the robot respond to them. She stopped just outside the doorway and willed sternness into her voice as she called out to him, "What do you think you're doing?"

Tobey turned to look at her, his expression unreadable from this distance without her glasses. His tone, unfortunately, was just as unreadable when he flatly answered, "Just testing my new robot, Mother."

Claire blinked, reigning in her frustration as she advanced toward him. She took slow, measured steps, drawing what little comfort she could from the feeling of cool, soft grass against the soles of her feet. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I know," Tobey replied. His tone was still blank, which his mother translated to defiant.

She stopped a few paces away from him, and let loose a long breath before she asked, "So, then… What do you intend to do with this 'new robot'?"

At this question Tobey seemed to shudder, but so slightly that Claire thought she must have imagined it. There was a heavy, drawn-out silence before he finally answered, "I don't know."

A chill wind swept across the yard, rustling the bushes. Claire gave no reaction, and made no effort to ward off the cold. She gathered her courage until the air fell still once more, and then she spoke. "You can't keep it, Tobey. I want it destroyed."

Tobey jolted, his stoic, defiant posture breaking instantly. Hopefully that was a good sign. He rounded on her, his face bleaching with shock. "What? But, I just finished it! And it took me all week to rewrite its behavior program after it was accidentally lost."

Claire swallowed a wave of apprehension and prepared for her final plunge. She was resorting to desperate measures, so there was no point in holding anything back. If her beloved son was to hate her, then so be it. That was better than losing him.

"It wasn't accidentally lost," she stated with as much composure as she could muster. "I deleted it."

Tobey took a step back from her, his young eyes widening as if in horror. "You… you did it? But… why?"

"Because this villain nonsense has gone on far too long and I won't stand for it anymore. From now on you are not allowed to build robots at all. Understood?"

It took a moment for Tobey to respond. When he did, his voice was so fragile and pleading that Claire nearly forgot her resolve, but so angry that her own anger was roused to remember.

"Mother, you can't take this away from me! This is who I am!"

"I don't accept that, Tobey. If this is who you are, then you are not the son I raised."

Tobey took a step back from her. He clutched his remote harder, and his pale face went suddenly red.

"How would you know?!" he blasted in a rage. "You've never even tried to understand me! You've never cared about any of the things I care about!"

The boy's words were cutting, but her resolve was strong, and it held. "Enough, Tobey!" Claire shouted, matching his volume. "You give me that remote this instant!"

She expectantly reached out her hand, meeting Tobey's eyes with a grave seriousness in her own. He met them right back with a burning glare… and continued to back away from his mother toward his new robot.

Claire felt a stab of fear not unlike the one of a few minutes ago, and her resolve weakened.

"Son?" she muttered, abandoning her harsh tone.

A breath escaped his clenched teeth, and he hammered a button on his remote. Suddenly his robot wrapped two of its terrible appendages around him, binding him to its spherical body.

It's rockets activated, tearing through the silence with a roar and blasting hot currents of wind into the once cool, still air.

"Tobey!" Claire shouted, her terrified voice ringing uselessly into the night after her son.

His silhouette faded into a blur to her strained, squinting eyes, and she ran after him as long and as far as she could, jumping over the back fence of the yard and racing down the street in a panic. Screaming and panting, sweating and shivering, she followed the robot long after it had completely disappeared into the darkness.

When she could go on no longer she collapsed into a trembling, sobbing heap in the middle of a dark, deserted street… cursing herself.

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Claire rested a hand on the banister at the bottom of the staircase leading up to where she and her son slept—where they had slept, until tonight.

Had it really been a mere few hours since Tobey ran away? The time she'd spent at the police station answering question after bloody question had felt like days, even though she'd be hard pressed to relay a single thing that had happened. It was all just a nightmarish blur of worry and guilt and terror. She was a mess.

Holding in yet another fresh wave of tears, she morosely began her journey up the cursed stairs.

How could she have let this happen? How could she have let things get so bad? She had tried so hard to be the best mother she could for Tobey, and yet it had still come to this. He had left her, just like his father had left her. She still didn't even know why, only that it was her fault. She had driven him to this somehow. She had done… something. Maybe there was something she'd done too much, or maybe it was something she hadn't done enough. Regardless, she had failed in some key area that had pushed her darling son away from her, and now she might never get him back.

Her throat tightened in a sob, and she bit her lip to stop it from trembling. What was she supposed to do now? How could she live with herself knowing that Tobey was out there all alone getting himself into God-only-knew what sort of trouble? The idea sent a chill down her spine and yet another spear of guilt into her heart. She would never be able to bear it.

"Oh, God," she muttered, covering her face and weeping as she pulled herself limply up over the last stair, "Please… Please bring my baby home…"

She almost walked past Tobey's room, but stopped in front of the door. It was closed now, though she couldn't remember when she'd closed it. She gazed at it longingly for a moment. Then, with a preemptive feeling of regret already throbbing in her chest, she caved to the irrational impulse to look inside.

She placed her fingers on the knob, took a wavering breath, and slowly, timidly opened the door. She kept her eyes downcast, afraid to look up and relive the horrific moment when she thought she'd lost her son, and minutes later actually had. Putting her fear aside, she lifted her head.

And there, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, was Tobey.

Claire froze. Was she dreaming? Or was she perhaps just now waking up from a terrible nightmare? She didn't have time to ponder these questions, for the boy looked up and met her eyes almost instantly.

"Tobey?" she murmured in disbelief.

Tobey swallowed and hung his head. "Mom," he muttered sorrowfully.

Claire bolted forward and fell to her knees in front of him. Her heart was overflowing with far too many emotions for her to process at once, and yet somehow the one that rose to the surface was still anger.

"What in the world were you thinking?!" she demanded, seizing his shoulders and shaking him violently. "How could you, Tobey?! Do you have any idea how—how—?!"

Her attack fell apart on her tongue, and for a moment she just sat there clutching his arms in an iron grip. Her ire had burned out quickly and the emotion that rose to take its place was pure, unadulterated relief. Tobey was here. He was safe. He had come back to her.

The child hung limp in her grasp, staring up at her with gaping eyes that bore neither hatred nor malice. Before she could find her voice again to speak, his eyes drifted shut, and he collapsed against her. She gasped in surprise, reflexively gathering up his small body in her arms.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he murmured weakly. His voice, muffled though it was by her clothing, was heavy with regret.

Claire felt as if her heart might burst.

"Thank you…" She mouthed the words silently, looking up at the ceiling with tearstained eyes. "Thank you… so much…"

She smiled and held her sweet boy tight, making an irrational promise to herself that she would never let go of him again.

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Honorable Mentions:

OleanderOwl / Anonymims — Your review of chapter 4 was one of my top 3, and I really wanted to offer you a scene rewrite as well, but since you made it quite impossible for me to do so, I shall content myself with thanking you here, from the bottom of my heart, for leaving multiple reviews that touched me, encouraged me, and reminded me of why I do this. Your words were greatly appreciated! :3

Debandra — You were the very first to review this story, and always had something thoughtful and encouraging to say. Thanks for that!

Lucinda Cottontale — What can I say? Without you, half the stuff in the story worth having there wouldn't have even made it to the table. Thanks for your invaluable help with all of my projects!

Griselda Banks — Not many friends will sit through dozens of episodes of a cheesy educational cartoon just so they can read a fanfic you wrote about said cheesy cartoon, and then on top of that review almost every chapter of that fanfic. Sometimes I don't feel like I deserve you, Gris. Thanks for being awesome! :3

Serene Mariposa — You consistently gave thoughtful reviews as well as helpful criticism, and my sister was happy that you complimented her artwork, which also made me happy. Thanks a bunch!

Jonquil Gemstone — In addition to all the reviews you'd left before, you left a beautiful review for the last chapter and even checked out / reviewed some of my stories for other fandoms. That meant a lot to me. Thank you.

AdelineQuinn — Your one little mention that you would be following my new blog was enough to tempt me to give you a prize. I didn't think that would be fair to the other participants, though. X) Regardless, I want you to know how much that meant to me. I hope you'll enjoy what my sister and I (eventually) publish on there.

Guitar Amateur — I was so thrilled to see that someone I don't even know took the time to watch WordGirl just because of this fic, and that you even sort of used this fic as a lens to form your opinions of the characters as you watched. Thanks so much for sharing your experience of WordGirl with me. It really made my day!

ma cook — You were so diligent about reading and reviewing the story that you accidentally left a review as me once. XP Thanks, mom! :D

TheyTookMyUsername and TheCopyUniverse —You guys almost never said much, but you almost always said something, and I really appreciate that. :)

My little brother — You may not even have an account on this site, but without the seed of inspiration you provided back in 2015, this story never would have come about. You also provided the design for the robot Tobey builds in this story. Here's to you, kid! ;)

And many, many others too numerous to mention. If you read, reviewed, or recommended this story in any way, consider yourself acknowledged and greatly valued. :)

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Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

— Philippians 3:13-14

Author's Notes:

-Aren't we forgetting something?— Some of you might be wondering why I didn't bother to address TJ's crush on WordGirl in the one scene I wrote from his POV. I mean, this is something that is clearly established in the canon and therefore needs to be dealt with once he knows who she is, right? Well, there are a couple reasons why I didn't bother to go into this. First, it would just be plain weird. #_# Second, I think that TJ's 'crush' on WordGirl is superficial in the sense that she is a celebrity and he is enamored with her the same way lots of silly kids become enamored with celebrities. As such, I really don't think it goes that deep. Plus, I think that TJ, being as young and impish as he is, wouldn't exactly feel a crush the way an older, more emotionally developed boy would. To put it simply, I really think TJ's feelings toward WordGirl were always more like childish admiration than boyish adoration, and as such, I really don't think he'd get heartbroken in the least at finding out she's his sister. He may have initially felt a little of the shock-induced disgust that we saw in 'Two-Brains Forgets,' but I already said my piece about that business several chapters ago.

-The Broken Vase (and other crossover notes)— You may not remember, but I actually did mention Tobey knocking something over on his way out of the house back in "Decathect," though I never mentioned what it was. I did this because I considered at the time that there needed to be a solid reason for Claire to wake up. That ended up working quite well for me, but you'd be surprised how much trouble I had avoiding continuity conflicts with the original scene. *_* For instance, it was pointed out to me that it didn't make sense for Claire to check Tobey's room without turning the light on, but I realize that it was never mentioned in the original scene from Tobey's viewpoint that the light in his room was on when he called his robot down from there. DX I suppose I could retroactively fix this to fit, but I don't think a mention of the lights would really fit in that scene and would ultimately just be confusing and unnecessary. So, I'll just let it be a minor continuity error since I'm probably the only person who would ever notice it anyway. :P

- The Closed Door— Speaking of continuity errors, I created another one while rewriting the reunion scene. X( When Claire goes up to Tobey's room, it doesn't make sense for his door to be closed, since this is her first time coming back home after Tobey ran away and there's no way she would've closed it when she came running downstairs. There's really nothing for this, however, aside from rewriting the beginning of the scene yet again to show that she's been home for a while. I don't really feel like doing that just to fill such a tiny plot hole, so I'm just going to confess my sin and move on. *shrugs* Maybe the police closed the door when they came to check out the house or something… Yeaaaahh... let's go with that. :P

- "I'm sorry, too…"— It was quite the dilemma deciding whether or not to include Claire's apology a the end of the scene, there. Although I made it a point to show from Tobey's viewpoint that he wasn't sure whether she said it or not, it's always been my headcanon that she did. I felt that the scene ended better without it, though, and since I went to the trouble of making it ambiguous in the original scene, I figured I might as well leave it ambiguous permanently. Feel free to decide for yourselves if you think Claire apologized to Tobey after the scene ended. ;)

-Theme Song: "In My Arms" by Plumb— I was hesitant to mention this one, because it really doesn't fit that well, but I still think it captures Claire's heart at the end of all this, especially the apprehension about what's coming in the future, as well as the promise that her child will always have her love, and always be safe in her arms. :3