A couple months had passed, and Eddy and Kyle were no closer to finding a way back to their own time. They'd managed to fumble their way through daily life, piecing together their parents' routines from half-remembered stories and old photographs.
"I can't take much more of this," Eddy groaned, collapsing onto the couch in their parents' small apartment. "Every day, I have to go to Dad's boring office job, pretending I know what the hell I'm doing."
Kyle nodded sympathetically, absentmindedly twirling a lock of auburn hair around his finger. "Tell me about it. I've been faking my way through Mom's art classes. Do you know how hard it is to paint when you have zero artistic talent?"
Eddy chuckled, then his face grew serious. "Kyle, we need to talk about... you know... the thing.”
Kyle's face paled, knowing exactly what Eddy was referring to, "No, we don't. We absolutely don't need to talk about... that."
Eddy leaned forward, his expression grim. "Look, I don't like it any more than you do, but we can't keep avoiding this. It's been two months. Mom and Dad... they were trying for a baby around this time. You know, for you."
Kyle stood up abruptly, pacing the small living room. "I know, I know! But we can't... I mean, it's just... wrong on so many levels!"
"I get it, believe me. But what choice do we have? If we don't... you know... then you won't be born. And if you're not born, neither am I. We could erase our entire existence," Eddy said, his voice filled with dread.
Kyle stopped pacing and turned to face his brother, now inhabiting their father's body, "But... but... we're brothers! And in our parents' bodies! It's just too weird and messed up."
"Look, we can take it …slow, okay?” Eddie hesitated before placing his hand on Kyle’s thigh.
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