"Okay," Corey stated in morbid eagerness to his mother's initiation of what would be the formal orientation to his life for the next year. While admittedly nervous of what might come from this, he wanted...needed to know about what he would be doing. How he would be paying back his debt, how he would be...redeeming himself, in the eyes of them, his family. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the people he had hurt so badly.

            "Obviously, this is nothing...new," his mother began, interlacing the fingers of her hands and resting the entwined pair upon her elevated thigh, "us talking. Like this. I feel we did enough of it when you were younger."

            Corey nodded. That was true enough. While he had generally avoided trouble growing up, he had usually landed himself in it every few months or so. And his mother's favored method of discipline had always involved the device that made his current incarceration possible. And they had talked, often, while he had been in a reduced state. So talking to his mom as she stood at the size of a building...it was honestly of almost comforting familiarity to him.

            "So a lot of this will be very familiar to you, then," she continued, pursing her lips for just a moment. "Because a lot of this is taken from our little system back then. With some modifications, obviously, given the difference in...circumstances, that we find ourselves in now."

            Corey swallowed, delivering a nervous nod. Obviously. He hadn't been a...a criminal, then.

            "In any case, taking our old system, I'm sure you remember the little jobs I would have you perform while you were in a little timeout. The polishing, the dusting, all of that. Correct?" Again, a nod. "Well, that's much of what you'll be doing for us now, but with different expectations given your more...full-time status. And that's the stance we, as a family, will be taking on your rehabilitation work. As such, I've decided to model your work schedule in the vein of a typical forty hour work week. Give or take a few hours as needed."

            "So the way this will work," Abigail said, the amicable tone she had started with shifting more and more into one of business, "is that Monday through Friday, I will have a list waiting for you when you wake up - and you will be up by 8 A.M. - that is to be started on at nine. From there, you will work until noon, at which point you will have an hour for lunch and rest. If you're to be home alone, I'll have one already prepared for you. At one, you'll resume work, and at five you'll report to one of us - me, your father, or your sister, I mean- and we'll take take a look at what you did for the day and, if we're satisfied, excuse you from it. If not, we'll talk about what you can do better next time. Are you with me so far?"

            "Yes," Corey replied. This sounded...this sounded fair, so far. It would keep him busy, and that was nice. He needed to be busy.

            "One thing I want to note," his mother continued, breaking her hands apart for just a moment to brush her dark hair back a bit before returning to their position, "is that if one of us wants you to do something in lieu of your assigned tasks, then the former takes priority. Regardless of what it is. So if, say, your sister needs you for something during the day, I want you to make sure that whoever checks your work at the end of the day is aware of it. So that we know to take that into account. Okay?"

            "Okay."

            "Now there are some other little minutiae to this system, but I'm going to leave it at that foundation for now. I want to see how these first few weeks go, and if I feel the need to go into them after that, I will. But for the most part, after five, you'll have free time. There are a couple of little things I'm working on for you, for recreational purposes, but we'll talk more about that when it's closer to happening."

            "I want to consider it a little surprise for you," she appended with a smile, "something to look forward to." Corey wasn't sure how to respond to that, though his mind was certainly racing for any possibilities.

            "Anyway,"Abby said, her more somber expression returning, "there are also a few specific rules I would like you to follow while you're here with us again. Because of...what this is." A deep breath had been taken during that pause. "The primary one, for now, since the others are dependent on your surprise: I don't want you using the phone. Not without our permission. We'll allow a certain number of phone calls over the course of a week, if you would like to take advantage of them, you may. But you will attain the permission of one of us first. I also don't want you answering the phone. Not unless the caller I.D. says it's a member of the family. Kayla and Graham included. Understand?"

            Another nod from him. Again, that was...it made sense to him. He was a criminal, and that was roughly how things worked for criminals, wasn't it?

            "Now with all that said," Abby stated with an almost nervous tenor, "the reason for this...regimented approach, lies in what happened that night. The reason you're here." Corey shivered, and his eyes immediately fled from his mother's. They hadn't really talked about what he had done. Not much. He had dreaded the very concept of it, and that was before he had been rendered so small. "The stance we're taking...on your part of what happened...is that it was the result of a failure." At that, Corey  whined slightly as he keeled over a bit in shame. A reaction that did not go unnoticed.

            "A failure not in morals," his mother added sharply in response, "but in discipline. And so that's what we're going to spend the next year kindling within you, Corey: Discipline. So that when you go before that review board, there is no doubt in their minds that you have learned from what happened. That you've grown, and that you've bettered yourself. So that everyone knows. Okay?"

            "O...okay," he forced out, still focused on the nylon mountain on which he sat. He could...fix himself, with this. Be better.

            "Let's see," his mother mused, taking a moment to think, "I believe that covers most everything. Now, do you have any questions? About how your work will go?"

            "Um," Corey mumbled, clutching at the silky material around him, pondering what he had been told.

            With almost perfect timing, a rumble of rolling thunder appeared to shake the house, a sound he hadn't heard in quite a while - his sister rushing down the stairs. He wondered with idle apprehension if she wouldn't make a pass through the living room, to make one more attempt at snatching him for herself for...whatever it was she seemed to want him so badly for. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when instead he heard her thundering stomps instead taper off as she wordlessly moved to the front door, and marked the sound of it opening and shutting.

            Something did strike him, however, as he recalled Claire's usual preferences for when she had been in charge of him.

            "How, um...how big, will I be? For my work."

            "The maximum allowed," Abby responded almost robotically in her complete lack of hesitation, meaning twelve inches. "The point isn't to make the work harder or impossible for you through the PMRD."

            "And, um,...after I'm done? With work, I mean?" he inquired, raising his head up a bit to look his parent in the eyes in again.

            "We aren't really setting a limit in that case," she informed him rather coolly. "Your size will generally be up to whoever you happen to be spending time with at any given moment. The only hard rule there is that if you're here alone, you're twelve. For safety."

            Corey nodded, even as he knew he likely had hours upon hours of being thumb-sized ahead of him. His mother and sister both had their preferences for him when he was to be subjected to the PMRD's effects, and both preferences veered more toward the smaller end of the spectrum available to him. Even if his mother generally made her decision based more on a rational goal she had set instead of just going with her gut.

            Some more thundering now, though less frequent in nature. Someone else coming down the stairs. Lifting his gaze some more, Corey soon observed his aunt passing into the room and past the couch, behind it and therefore his mother. It was hard not to miss her emerald eyes finding him on his mother's knee, even if it was only for the briefest of moments.

            "Abby, I'm gonna order a pizza. I'm starving and it's cheat day. The usual fine with you?" Kayla called, her voice easily carrying as she passed into the kitchen.

            "It is," his mother replied rather half-heartedly, her attentions still focused primarily on her diminutive son.

            "Good, 'cause I ordered it before I came down," Kayla stated casually, earning a bemused snort from Abigail that shook her body just a little, but still enough to require Corey to brace himself by clutching at the nylon material. "Before the delivery guy gets here, I'm gonna run up to the convenience store and grab the new Contract movie. Figure we could use a fun watch."

            "That sounds good," his mother replied with some genuine enthusiasm, and as had been the case with Claire, he soon marked the opening and closing of a door far off in the distance. "Well then," Abby said, turning her attentions back to him as she regained her composure, "anything else?"

            "Um," Corey started again, his speech continuing to fail him as he tried to think, "uh...where will I be sleeping?"

            This one earned a tilt of his mother's head.

            "That should be obvious," she responded with some confusion, "you'll be in your room. We got your bed all made up for you, and your father made some steps for you. So that you can get up and down as you want. When time allows."

            "Oh. Okay." He also had another question in mind now, but just thinking about it made his face redden. Instead, he returned to thinking. But as he did so now, only one thing really came to mind...one thing that should have been his focus, his first question, to begin with.

            "So should I...should I go ahead and start on something?" he asked of his mother. He wanted that. He wanted to get started with his work. Abby seemed to consider him for a moment, but not for a long one - soon enough, her head was gently shaking side to side.

            "No," she stated softly, her business-like demeanor slowly melting away, "not for today, honey. It's almost the weekend now, and I want to use these next few days as an adjustment period, of sorts. All I want for you to do this weekend, Corey, is to just relax and rest up. We might have some scattered tasks for you, but nothing big. Especially not with Claire's championship game tomorrow. I trust you want to go with us?"

            Corey nodded at that, almost vigorously. He hadn't been able to attend his sister's games in quite a while, due to college, and did want to be there for her biggest game yet. To support her. And the time allowed for him to spend outside of the house would allow him to do that.

            Even if it doesn't mean anything to her anymore, he thought, bitterly, her angry visage passing through his mind. Even if she hated him now, he at least wanted to support her. She deserved that, even if she also deserved better than him as an older brother now.

            "Anything else?" Abigail asked in those same comfortable tones. Thinking once more, and deciding to avoid asking his other question for as long as possible, he soon decided to simply shake his head. "Okay, then. Well with that little foundation set, there's just one more thing I wanted to be sure to touch on today. So that you understand your place with us."

            With that ominous statement, his mother's hands broke apart once more, and Corey was faced with the approach of an open palm, with fingers extended to receive the gulping twenty-year old. His mother's thumb and forefinger pinched around his little body with the trademark tenderness, and truthfully Corey had always been amazed at how much of a natural his mother seemed to be at these interactions. With incredible ease they lifted him from his seat, and began pulling him up the expanse of his mother's body, until he stopped just a few yards shy of his parent's glossy lips, and Corey began to shiver in preparation for the words that might soon be exiting them in explanation of his place, even as he knew that he deserved whatever designation was incoming.

            "We're so glad to have you back with us, sweetie," Abby stated, allowing her cool, minty breath to wash out over him in an almost calming wave that accompanied a selections of words he had just not expected. "We're so glad to provide a safe environment for you to learn, and to be able to insure that on our own. Regardless of what the law says, and of the...position, you're in now."

            "Because we love you, Corey," she murmured tenderly before pressing him into her lips for one of the quick little smooches she had always been fond of delivering. He parted from them quickly enough, in something of a state of shock, and that feeling only intensified as his mother pulled him away to allow him some distance, to allow him to take in her full, pretty face once again. His eyes widened a little bit as he noted his mother's observing orbs, glistening with a moist film, and now the saddest of little smiles on her billboard-sized face. "So welcome home, sweetie," she stated with as much love as ever in spite of the pitiful sight before her.

            "And welcome back to your family."