Flashback.
The front door of the Sanchez home creaked open, and the smell of something warm and savory drifted out into the hallway.
Rod stepped in, boots knocking against the welcome mat that still read Home Is Where the Trouble Is—a Diane original.
The living room was its usual chaos: a couch covered in a mix of laundry and schematics, toy blocks half-buried under blueprints, and a stack of dishes leaning dangerously on the coffee table.
From the kitchen came Diane's voice.
"If that's you, Rod, you'd better not be tracking whatever planet dirt you stepped in all over my floors."
Rod grinned and wandered in.
She was by the stove, hair pulled back, a wooden spoon in one hand and a dishtowel slung over her shoulder like it was part of her uniform.
She didn't look up.
"You're home early," she said, in the kind of tone that was both question and warning.
"Adventure got cut short. Ship needed a part. Figured I'd… check in," Rod replied, leaning against the counter.
That earned him a quick side-eye. "Check in or grab a free meal?"
He held his hands up. "Both?"
Diane's mouth twitched, but she shook her head.
"You've got your father's brain. That's the problem. And probably the only reason I let you run off at all."
Rod laughed, but there was something in the way she said it—half-pride, half-resignation—that stuck.
A door slammed upstairs, followed by a thundering set of footsteps.
Beth stomped into the kitchen, arms crossed tight, lower lip jutting out in full mutiny mode.
"You left me again," she announced.
Rod sighed theatrically. "Hey, I didn't leave you. You were… holding down the fort. Very important job. The fort needed you."
Beth's glare could've melted steel. "I'm not stupid, Rod."
"Never said you were. You're the brains of the operation."
He crouched so they were eye level.
"But sometimes the operation's gotta have someone smart enough to stay behind, right?
You think Dad and I could've outrun those giant slug things if we were busy making sure you didn't poke one in the eye?"
Beth's frown wavered. "…Maybe."
"Definitely." He tapped her nose.
"Besides, someone's gotta tell me all the weird stuff that happened here while I was gone. You know, top-secret home base intel."
Her eyes lit up despite herself.
"Well… there was this squirrel in the backyard and it looked at me funny, and Mom said it was normal but it wasn't normal, and—"
From there, it was off to the races.
Beth chattered non-stop, leaping from squirrels to cartoons to why spaghetti was better than lasagna, while Rod threw in the occasional "uh-huh" or "no way" like he was taking notes for a classified mission.
Diane leaned against the doorway, watching them with a faint smile she didn't bother hiding.
She didn't interrupt, didn't tell Beth to quiet down.
She knew moments like this didn't happen every day.
Beth's "squirrel report" had devolved into a point-by-point breakdown of which backyard animals were "probably spies" and which were "too dumb to be spies."
Rod kept nodding like she was revealing classified intel from the Galactic Federation.
Diane finally broke in, setting the spoon down with a clink.
"You two planning to solve the mysteries of the animal kingdom before dinner, or should I just set out a whiteboard?"
Rod leaned back against the counter, smirking.
"Depends, Mom. Does the whiteboard come with colored markers?"
Beth lit up. "Yes! And I get the red one!"
"You're not getting the red one," Rod said, deadpan.
"Why not?!"
"Because red is for the team leader. And that's me."
Beth gasped like he'd just slapped a crown off her head.
"Team leader? Please. You abandon your team every other day."
Rod pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Whoa—mutiny in the ranks?"
Beth folded her arms, chin up.
"I'm the real leader. You're just the muscle. And sometimes not even that. Sometimes you're the bait."
Diane snorted, trying to hide it behind a cough.
Rod glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "You're gonna let her talk to me like that?"
Diane shrugged, fighting a smile. "She's not wrong."
"Unbelievable," Rod muttered, though his grin gave him away.
Beth's eyes sparkled with victory.
"See? Mom knows."
Diane stirred the pot again, but her voice softened.
"Rod, you're gone a lot. She notices. She's not always wrong to give you a hard time."
He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know. But you know me—if there's something interesting out there, I'm gonna chase it."
"I do," Diane said quietly. "And I also know you come back. That's what really matters."
Beth, sensing the conversation dipping into "mushy" territory, rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, gross. Are you gonna hug now? Can I go play?"
Rod pointed at her. "You start it, you sit through it, little devil."
Beth stuck her tongue out. Diane caught it instantly.
"Beth!"
"What? He called me a devil!"
"Little devil," Rod corrected. "It's different. It's a compliment."
Beth narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"…Fine. But next time you leave me here, I'm booby-trapping your room."
Diane threw up her hands. "Perfect. More work for me."
Rod laughed and reached over to ruffle Beth's hair.
She swatted his hand away but didn't move out of reach.
The clatter of plates pulled Rod and Beth out of their mock standoff.
Diane slid two steaming dishes onto the table, the kind of hearty dinner you couldn't fake with a replicator.
"Alright, sit. Eat. And if I hear the words 'team leader' one more time, I'm taking dessert off the table."
Beth dropped into her chair like she'd been starved for days, grabbing her fork before Diane even sat down.
Rod followed, leaning back in his seat, watching the steam curl up from his plate.
"You still make the best roast in the galaxy," Rod said, cutting into it.
Diane arched a brow. "Galaxy, huh? You tried them all?"
"Working on it." He grinned.
They ate, trading bits of conversation between bites.
Beth dominated most of the talk—stories about school, a half-made drawing she insisted was a "blueprint" for a treehouse, and why the neighbor's cat was probably in a gang.
Diane and Rod humored her, their own stories sliding in between hers.
Halfway through, Beth's head started dipping, fork slowing in her hand. S
he blinked hard, tried to refocus on Rod's latest tale, and failed.
"Alright, little devil," Rod said softly, "time to call it."
"Nooo," Beth mumbled, yawning so wide she nearly lost her fork.
Rod tilted his head toward the stairs. "C'mon. I'll tuck you in."
She hesitated—just long enough to make it look like she wasn't giving in—then slid off her chair.
Rod followed her up, the boards creaking under their steps.
Her room was its own kind of battlefield: scattered toys, a pillow fortress, and a poster on the wall of a cartoon spaceship that had been drawn over with "improvements" in marker.
Rod helped her climb into bed, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders.
"Lullaby," she mumbled, eyes already half-closed.
He smirked. "Still your favorite?"
"Mhm."
Rod started singing—quietly, just enough to fill the room.
The tune was simple, one they'd made up when she was smaller.
It wasn't about anything in particular—stars, adventures, a little devil who always found her way home.
Sleep, little star, the night's drawing near,Dreams will come softly, I'm right here.Moonlight will keep you safe as you rest,Close both your eyes, my sweet Beth.
The wind hums a song, the trees sway along,Crickets will sing you their gentle song.Morning will find you, fresh and bright,But now, my dear, sleep through the night.
By the second verse, Beth's breathing had evened out.
He stayed for a moment longer, watching her, before slipping out and easing the door closed behind him.
Downstairs, Diane was at the kitchen counter with two glasses of water.
She slid one toward him as he sat.
They drank in silence for a few beats, the hum of the fridge filling the room.
Finally, Diane glanced at him. "Is Rick alright?"
Rod looked into his glass. "He's… Rick."
"That's not an answer."
He sighed. "Last I saw him, he was chasing something big. Wouldn't tell me all the details."
Diane's gaze didn't waver. "And you?"
"I'm fine," he said. "But I think he's… heavier lately. Like he's carrying more than he says."
She nodded slowly, eyes softening in a way that told him she already knew.
"He's always been like that. Even before you started following him into whatever madness you two get into."
Rod smirked faintly. "Guess that's where I get it."
Diane didn't disagree.
Diane swirled the water in her glass, eyes fixed on the faint ripples.
"You said he's chasing something big," she said after a moment. "Bigger than usual?"
Rod gave a little shrug. "Yeah. But it's still him. He's always got three or four half-insane projects going at once."
Her lips quirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "
This one… it's not one of those, is it? The kind that's more than an adventure."
He tilted his head. "You mean dangerous? Mom, it's old man we're talking about. The guy's middle name might as well be 'hazard.'"
"I know," she said, smiling faintly. "But I'm not talking about that kind of dangerous."
Rod frowned, unsure what she meant. "Then…?"
She waved it off with a small shake of her head. "Never mind. You wouldn't tell me if it was important anyway."
Rod leaned back in his chair.
"It's not that I wouldn't tell you, I just… I honestly don't know the whole thing myself.
I think it's some kind of… teleportation tech?
Or interdimensional transport?
He's been talking about breaking distance like it's just another wall to knock over."
Diane's fingers tightened slightly around her glass.
"Teleportation," she echoed, as if tasting the word.
"Yeah," Rod said. "Big stuff. Could change everything."
She was quiet for a beat, then her shoulders softened.
"I can't pretend to understand the math or the… whatever it is you two are always scribbling.
But I know what he can do when he's set on something.
If he pulls it off…" She trailed off, eyes far away for just a moment.
"Well, there's no telling what comes after."
Rod grinned. "Then that's good, right?"
"Good," she agreed, though her tone was layered.
"I just hope that in chasing whatever's out there, you both remember who you are.
What matters the most is you, Beth. Rick, all happy and safe."
He blinked at her. "We will. I promise, mom."
She smiled at him in that calm, knowing way only she could manage. "Alright. I'll hold you to it."
They finished their water in companionable silence.
Whatever thought had been flickering behind her eyes, she kept it tucked away, the way she always did.
Diane pushed her chair back and gathered the empty glasses, setting them in the sink with a soft clink.
"It's late. You should head to your bed before your father comes back and drags you into another all-nighter."
Rod smirked. "Like I'm not already on call."
She rolled her eyes and reached for the coat hanging by the back door.
"Here. You're not walking out there in that jacket—it's barely holding together."
He chuckled. "Mom, it's fine—"
She cut him off by draping a heavier coat over his shoulders, smoothing it into place with the same absent care she used when he was a kid.
"Humor me."
Rod looked down at the worn fabric. "This is yours."
"It's warm," she said simply. "And you're taking it."
He didn't argue.
Not because he couldn't—he could—but because he knew she'd already won.
At the door, she reached up and brushed a bit of dust from his hair, a faint smile tugging at her mouth.
"Try to get some sleep tonight, alright? The galaxy will still be there in the morning."
Rod laughed under his breath. "No promises."
She pulled him into a brief hug—quick, but strong. "Be careful, Rod."
"Always am," he said, stepping out into the cool night air.
As he walked away, the scent of her cooking and the weight of her coat stayed with him.
It was the kind of thing you didn't think much about in the moment—until later, when it became the one part of the night you remembered the clearest.
- - - - - - - - - -
The river of time was still tethered to them, a shimmering, writhing current hanging in the air like a living scar, and every second it resisted more.
Rod slammed the clone bay shut on Beth's stand-in.
The bio-skin hissed as the stabilizer foam sealed around her body, matching every last micro-detail down to the scar under her knee.
"Alright—Diane next. Keep that temporal stabilizer above one-eighty or this whole thing goes splat."
Rick grunted, his own clone terminal flaring white-blue light.
"Yeah, no pressure—just casually perfecting two life-sized, memory-accurate human decoys while the cosmic plumbing throws a tantrum."
The river lashed, and the air around them flexed like it wanted to snap in half.
Rod ducked under the wild ripple and slapped a hand on the second clone pod.
Diane's eyes were closed, chest moving with that slow, eerie precision that only an artificially synchronized body could pull off.
"Memory set locked. Personality scaffolding's in place. She'll hold… as long as the river doesn't get nosy."
"Oh, the river's nosy, kid," Rick shot back, jabbing a dial hard enough to make the clone machine shudder.
"It's like leaving a fake wallet on the street and hoping the mugger doesn't check inside."
Another ripple tore through the room, rattling tools off the walls.
Rod's jaw clenched.
"We just need ten seconds in sync once we start the pull.
Ten.
Then the clones will take their spots and the timeline seals."
"Ten seconds is a lifetime in there," Rick said, eyes on the clone's neural sync monitor.
"Literally. If we mistime this, the river won't just push back—it'll remember us.
And then we're screwed in every decade."
The clones lay still, perfect facsimiles.
The air smelled faintly of ozone and something sweet—like the moment right before lightning hits.
Rod checked the sync between the pods and the glowing rift.
"Alright. They're in position. When we jump back in, there's no second try.
If they notice the swap too early, the current will rip them apart."
Rick slung the stabilizer harness over his shoulders, grim-faced but grinning all the same.
"Guess we better be convincing, huh?"
The river bucked again, and for the first time, Rod thought he heard it—something almost like a growl—low, drawn out, and not entirely unfocused.
- - - - - - - - - -
Do you get any of that?
Tbh, I think after Diane and Beth extraction ended, it'll be more fun.
Writing these two characters especially Beth will be epic.
Watching back how Kid Beth acts make me laugh, hahhaa.
There'll be three Beth in total, muahahaha.
Beth C-131, Space Beth and Kid Beth!
That's all, peace!