Trans-ition

Mak slipped his phone into the pocket of his pants, the Uber silent as some sort of classical music played. It painted a very dismal mood for him as he watched lights pass in the darkness and some dim, quiet houses roll by.

Mak shifted in his clothes, so soft and airy as compared to his army uniform. He could still imagine it buttoned tight at his neck, billowing unnecessarily at the chest and butt, and tucked into every part it could be tucked into. Suffocating. Hot. Wrong.

But a part of him missed it. It had been his everyday attire for the past four years, and while he hated it, he was almost loathe to shirk it off his shoulder in favor of civilian clothes. Yes, the army had been difficult - but it had kept him from this.

He sighed through his nose, shoving his hands into pockets as he slumped in the backseat. Mak placed his forehead on the cold window and stared up from beneath his brows to the dark lawns and pale sidewalk and silent whir of the trees in a breeze.

He remembered these houses. He had had grown up around them - played with the kids who'd inhabited them. The nostalgia was a think blanket around him, just as much as the panic.

The Uber pulled to a stop. "Here you go, bud. Use the device on the back of the seat to leave a tip if you want."

Mak quietly tapped a few buttons and gave a twenty dollar tip. For the quiet, he told himself. Not because he was stalling.

Out of options, he climbed from the vehicle and watched the taillights disappear around the corner. And he trudged up to the door.

Mak lifted his fist and knocked after a few moments. Sound and laughter echoed from behind the familiar white door, light spilling from the windows onto the lawn he had first learned to walk on. He sucked on a lip and began to turn around.

A rush of hot air swathed his back, and Mak froze with a small grimace.

"Sorry for the wait. Was there something you needed, sir?" a voice asked, curious but guarded. This late at night, with nothing but the moon as a pale lighting, it was frowned upon for a male to be knocking on doors.

Mak swallowed, and swiveled with his chin tucked to his chest as if to curl into a ball and disappear. He couldn't meet the person's eyes.

A dog came padding up from behind the person, inspecting the cool night breeze. The wagging tail stalled for a moment as the dog digested it, and then it yipped once before dancing forward.

Mak bent down to the dog's level. "Hi, buddy? How you doin'? Doin' great, huh? Doin' great?" he said, voice high and curling and feminine as he gave the dog a good scrub down. The dog yipped once more and licked his face.

"Ma...Makenzie?"

Mak winced, looking down at the dog. Of course Scotty recognized him. He glanced up to the person. But not his own mother had.

He gave Scotty a few more good scratchies before clearing his throat and standing. "I prefer Mak, actually." He relaxed his voice. Let it deepen to the full weight of it's capabilities.

His mother flinched.

"...You're...are you...okay?"

"I'm doing great, Ma," he replied, though he knew that wasn't what she'd been asking. Yes, he was okay. And yes, he was right in the head.

Scotty waggled between Mak's legs and bounded back into the house, barking and calling to everyone.

Mak restrained a small smile, gaze finally returning to his parent. The woman had steeled into a solid pillar. "Makenzie, you've been gone for almost five years. What right do you have to show up here uninvited? And looking like...like that?"

Mak's brief lightness stalled, and his brows felt heavy on his eyes. He hadn't been expecting a happy reunion, but no matter how much he had prepared for this, he still seemed to freeze at the disapproving tone of his ma.

She'd always wanted babies. Always wanted her to have babies. But he wasn't her anymore, and he didn't think he ever had been. Not completely.

Someone walked up with Scotty on their heels and Mak reigned himself in, remembered her question.

"Actually, I did come invited." Mak smiled for the first time the entire evening as his older brother swept past their Ma and gathered him into a hug. Though, now, with racks of muscle on Mak from the army and the testosterone pills...he'd grown quite bigger than his older brother.

"How you doin' Alex?" he said, eyes burning. It was the first time he'd seen him in person since he'd left. Almost five years ago.

His older brother seemed to swallow. "Doing great...?"

"I go by Mak. Easier that way given my previous name."

His brother nodded slowly and turned to their Ma. "I invited him. It's a family reunion. And he is family."

Mak's nose prickled and then his eyes began to water. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. He knew he might regret it but...he had to.

"I am family, aren't I?"

He stared at his mother hard, eyes lined with silver still.

Her lip curled with barely disguised disgust before slipping away. She didn't answer, just left and went up the stairs to her bedroom where she slammed the door shut.

His brother seemed to slump as it happened, a heavy sigh escaping him. Mak squeezed his shoulder, lips tight as he stared after his mother.

When Mak's eyes finally left the seam of the closed door, he found several faces looking at him curiously. His nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, cousins and close family-friends surveyed him.

And, with open jealously, his Uncle Pat said, "Damn. You look hotter as a boy than as a girl." He got slapped on the back of the head by his wife.

"Who is this?" a small girl asked, perhaps only five. A new addition to the family that Mak had never met. The little girl had wispy brown hair and wide brown eyes that scrutinized him more than any five-year-old should be able to.

He hadn't got to be part of her life, all because he'd been a coward and had had to run away when he couldn't cope with himself. And with little to no money in his pickets, he'd absolved to join the army. All while this little girl grew up.

Mak knelt before her and gave his most welcoming smile. "My names Mak." He held out a hand. "And yours?"

The girl giggled and shook his proffered hand. "Marin. Princess Marin!"

"Ah, forgive me, Your Highness." He chuckled and bowed dramatically.

The girl giggled. "I really like Mak, Mom!"