Hello again Warpers! Katie here, and this is my second multi-chapter fic for the MPAS fandom. I really want this story to be a personal journey for Sherman as he struggles with the trials of what it means to be adopted. However this is only the second time I've written Sherman at his actual age in the movie, so I hope I've done him justice.

Disclaimer: As much as I love writing for them, absolutely none of these characters are mine.

"Before we begin our history lesson, I have a new assignment for all of you"

The second grade class of Susan B Anthony academy groaned at their teacher words. All the children were fidgeting in their seats, the sunshine streaming in from the windows calling to them temptingly. No one wanted to be cooped up in the classroom any longer.

Sherman, on the other hand, was staring at his teacher with rapt attention. His feet swung to and fro as he sat in his chair, impatiently waiting for his classmates to stop finish their moaning. He hoped the assignment was about what they'd been covering on the American Revolution. After all, He and Mr. Peabody had visited the Boston Tea Party just last week. It would be pretty fantastic to write a presentation about that.

Finally, the children quieted when Mrs. Logan wrapped her wooden pointer on the backboard. "Now class, settle down. There's no need for any of that" she told them sternly "Besides, I think you children are going to enjoy this assignment."

Walking up to the board, she picked up a piece of chalk and wrote: "FAMILY TREE" in bold lettering. "Now can anyone tell me what a family tree is?

Sherman frowned in confusion. Usually he was the one with his hand in the air first, but this time he was completely stumped. He and Mr. Peabody had a potted palm tree in their living room. Did that count?

"Yes, Phoebe." The teacher gestured to the girl waving her hand in the front row.

"Oh I know!" The girl exclaimed, her pigtails bouncing as she have her answer: "A family tree is like a chart-thing that tells you about your family! We've got one hanging in our house!"

Mrs. Logan beamed at the girl. "Thank you Phoebe, that's a very good answer." Then, to the rest of the class she went on, "a family tree is a genealogical chart showing the ancestry, descent, and relationship of all members of a family or other genealogical group. For example..."

She turned back to the board and wrote her full name, Cynthia Logan, on the board. Below that she wrote two other names. "Now these names in the bottom row are the names of my parents. She proceeded to connect to connect the two names with a line of chalk. "The lines indicate a relationship. For example, my mother married my father and gave birth..." Starting from the previous line, she drew another line to her own name and circled it. "...To me."

The smile slowly vanished from Sherman's face. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he started to piece two and two together, not liking the answer he was coming up with.

"Now my grandparents..." She wrote two more sets of names. "...gave birth to my mother and father. Meaning that both their families are now connected through me." She drew more lines, connecting each set of grandparents to the names of her parents. "Does everyone understand this?"

A murmur of acknowledgement rose from the class.

"Good!" Mrs. Logan smiled as she began to walk around the room, passing out the assignment sheets. "Now I want each of you to do some research on your families and construct a chart just like mine. Each of you will be presenting your family trees a week from today. I expect you to get at least as far as your great, great grandparents."

The room's volume rose as the children began chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

In the midst of all the excited chatter, Sherman just stared at the chalk diagram, a strange, hollow feeling in his chest.

Soon all the assignment sheets had been passed out. But as Mrs. Logan turned to go back to her desk, a loud, blunt voice cut through the din.

"Mrs. Logan! Mrs. Logan! You forgot to give Sherman a sheet!" came the loud voice of Mikey Smith in the middle row. The room quieted in an instant, all eyes suddenly on Sherman and his incriminatingly empty desk.

The seven year old flinched and sunk low in his chair, his face turning the same color of his bright red hair.

"Ouch!" cried Mikey as he was swatted by the girl behind him. "what was that for?"

"Shut up Dufus!" she hissed. "You know he's adopted!"

"Maybe he could track his Dad's pedigree or somethin'" Billy Gunnerson whispered snidely to his friends in the back row. He stopped short, however, when Penny turned to shoot him a death glare.

Somehow, Penny's defense of him only made things worse. Sherman bit his lip as he stared dejectedly at the floor, silently wishing for all the world that it would just swallow him up.

Mrs Logan cleared her throat to get the class' attention. "Actually Mikey, I have another assignment for Sherman. He gets to tell us all about how the founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence. Won't that be fun Sherman?" She smiled down at him, trying her hardest to smooth things over. Her pitying gaze made his insides twist in discomfort.

"Oh... Um... Yes Mrs. Logan." Sherman mumbled, trying to give her a smile and failing miserably.

"Alrighty then." She gave him one last concerned look before turning back to the board. "Now, who can tell me the first battle of the American Revolution..."

The rest of the lesson seemed to pass by in a blur. Class continued on as usual but Sherman didn't raise his hand once, unable to find it in himself to pay attention let alone participate. Instead the seven year old had just stared out the nearby window, a far off look in his eye. His heart felt heavy as troubling thoughts raced through his mind.

For as long as Sherman could remember, history had always been a huge part of his life. After all he'd been time traveling with his dad since he was a baby. He'd seen history unfold first hand in a way others could only dream of. But, in all that time, he'd never realized how little he knew of his own history.

Mr. Peabody had always told him that history defined civilizations and cultures. A proper knowledge of the past was necessary for the present and the future. If that was true, what defined him? Where was his heritage?

Sherman was horrified to realize that he knew absolutely nothing about where he came from. He didn't know his mother or father, let alone if he even had grandparents…

He didn't even know why they'd left him alone in the rain that fateful night. Had they even wanted him in the first place?

The Cafeteria was buzzed with energy as Sherman's classmates talked eagerly of their new assignment.

"Did you know I'm related to Abigail Adam's herself?!" claimed Mary Blake, making a show of fixing her glossy ponytail.

"That's nothing!" countered Isaac DeWalt from across to lunch table, brandishing a milk carton for emphasis. "My family can trace our roots all the way back to the Mayflower!"

"Oh yeah! Well my mom says my great, great, great grandma was in the Daughters of Liberty!" piped up Janice French. "My ancestors helped win the revolution. Yours just came in on a stupid boat!"

"My great grandparents came all the way to America from Japan!" exclaimed Suzie Kwan to her friends. "Maybe I could talk to my Sofu and Sobo into letting me borrow some pictures for the presentation."

"...I'm one third Native American on my Dad's side..."

"...can't wait to ask my mom about her great grandma..."

"...my grandpa fixed airplanes during World War II. He's even got a model I could bring in..."

The excitement steadily grew as their conversations intertwined, Each child happy to talk about what made their families so special, what made them unique.

Sherman was silent, fiddling with the plastic straps of his lunchbox as he listened to each of his classmates enviously. What was it like to have a grandfather to tell you war stories, or a grandmother to share family photos with you? What would it be like to just have a Mom?

As he thought these things a pang of guilt shot through his heart. Mr. Peabody was already the best parent a kid could ask for, so why did it matter if he didn't have a mom? Shouldn't having such an awesome Dad be enough? Still, his treacherous heart ached each time his classmates talked about one of their mothers.

Why was he so bothered by this?

While Sherman was lost in his own thoughts, next to him, his two friends Mason and Carl shared a concerned look. Neither of them really knew what to say to make their friend feel better. After a few more minutes of confining silence, Mason decided to break the silence.

"Um... So do you guys want to partner up for that science project?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he eyed Sherman carefully, gauging his reaction. "I was thinking we could meet up at my house today to come up with some ideas. Then maybe we could just hang out." He then winked to Karl who caught his drift.

"Yeah, that'd be cool!" Karl nodded eagerly as he rolled his wheelchair to face His despondent friend. "And I could bring that new chemistry set I got for my birthday last week. You up for it Sherman?"

"Hmm- what?" It took a minute for the redhead to realize he was being addressed. "Oh. Umm... Not today guys," he muttered, wracking his mind for an excuse. "I've got uh... chores to do at home..." He winced even as he heard it. He was a terrible liar

Mason and Karl just gave him another sad look, but Sherman found he couldn't meet their gaze. All of a sudden the cafeteria seemed too loud and overwhelming. Picking up his lunchbox, the redhead rose from his seat. "See you guys in class." He gave the two a halfhearted wave before turning and walking to his locker to put away the rest of his lunch. Suddenly, Sherman found he wasn't very hungry.

Penny Peterson was so done with her best friend's strange behavior.

The halls of the elementary school were filled with the sounds of bustling children and slamming lockers as the final bell rang. In the midst of the chaos, Penny and Sherman walked down the hallway, the latter's shoulders slumped, his feet dragging.

She frowned at the back of his head. Sherman hadn't raised is hand once in class or corrected Mrs. Logan on the lesson's historical inaccuracies. He hadn't even made any of his stupid puns in science class.

"So what's up with you today?" She finally asked as they made their way through the sea of upperclassman, and out the front doors.

"W-what do you mean?" He asked, trying to avoid her penetrating gaze by fiddling with the tie on his uniform.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb with me Sherman. You're always hanging out with Dork and Dorkier and I haven't seen you say more than three words to them all day."

"Mason and Karl aren't dorks Penny," the boy defended his friends, but his vigor was half-hearted at best.

"Whatever," she waved his comment off. "You were also a total space case in class. You've been all weird and mopey since Mrs. Logan assigned that project. Oh, by the way," she smirked. "Let's just say Billy's not going to be bugging you for a while. I had a nice chat with him after class."

Sherman winced, knowing full well what Penny's "chats" were like. Ever since the whole WABAC incident she'd had been a whole lot nicer to him, but she could still be downright nasty when she wanted to be. If someone in class started to make fun of him, they had to go through her first. Sherman didn't know if he approved of her methods, but he couldn't argue that they were very effective.

"Uh… Thanks guess." He muttered, his eyes fixed on his shoelaces.

Penny's face fell as she saw her words hadn't helped her friend like she'd hoped. She pouted, staring at the redhead's slumped form.

It was so weird to see him like this. Normally he wouldn't shut up, rambling to her all about his latest WABAC trip with Mr. Peabody or something new he'd learned.

Not that she minded. For once it was kinda nice to have someone who didn't just want to spread gossip or talk about boys and clothes. In a strange way, Sherman's genuine innocence was refreshing. In all honesty, the dorky redhead was probably the first real friend Penny Peterson had ever had. Now if only she could get the hang of this whole empathy thing…

"So… You and Mr. Peabody go anywhere cool lately?" She tried to sound peppy as they made their way down the front steps, hoping it would encourage him to do the same.

"Not really," came Sherman's unenthusiastic reply.

"Well maybe we could take a trip in the WABAC sometime this weekend. If it's okay with your Dad of course."

"Maybe."

"I've never been to France before. Maybe we could go there in the 1920s."

"I guess."

She sighed in frustration. This wasn't going anywhere. "Would you just... Stop it already!"

Sherman looked up in surprise at her sudden outburst.

Penny continued, her voice gaining momentum as she vented her ill-placed anger. "Honestly I don't know why you're so bothered by some silly project. It's just a chart with a bunch of names on it. Who cares if you can't trace your stupid family history, it's not like it matters anyway!" But as the words left her mouth Penny already knew she'd said the wrong thing.

Sherman glared at her, deep hurt etched into those brown eyes. He trembled, breathing heavily as he willed himself not to cry. "It matters to me" came his choked reply.

The girl shrunk back in shame. With every fiber of her being Penny wished she could take back her words, but the damage had been down. "Sherman I-" but the honk of a horn cut off her feeble apology attempt.

Mr. Peabody had just pulled up in his moped, right on time as per usual. The bespectacled dog waved his son over, giving the horn another cheerful honk.

Sherman didn't waste a minute as he ran full speed towards his father, leaving Penny alone with her own guilty thoughts.

I don't really care for how some people in the fandom will either villainize or completely reform Penny. Personally, I think she's an interestingly flawed character. Just because she learned a lot about how to treat others during the events of the movie doesn't mean she's suddenly a perfect friend. Sherman is the very first genuine friend Penny has ever had and sometimes she doesn't know how to handle his niiave, sensitive personality. Still, there's something about the redhead's complete lack of pretense and ulterior motive that draws her to him and makes her want to be a better friend. I prefer to portray Penny as a prideful, girl with good intentions and tongue too sharp for her own good.

With that said, what did you guys think? Please read and review!