Sissy Room

aww love andy even more spiderman is amazing and so is batman both in there own ways cant wait to see what the story holds

It is really a great story, thanks for writing it. I hope that there will be more soon, the crib is a clear cliffhanger ;-).

I got one of my long time saved rearz on

1st drop this weekend; Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One: Part Elven “OutlawOtaku.” Paul stared at the television. Then he blinked. “Seriously?”   Andy grinned from the other side of the screen, looking rather pleased with himself as he settled deeper into the brown leather couch. Grumpy Bear remained tucked beneath his left arm, its permanently disgruntled expression staring toward the camera, while Andy used his free hand to retrieve the controller he’d left on the coffee table.   “What? It’s a great name.”   Paul shook his head, laughing as he typed Andy’s PSN gamertag into his cellphone.   “I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m just saying it sounds like the name of a guy who owns about four hundred anime figures.”   Andy looked momentarily offended.   “First of all, I only own, like, seventy.”   “ONLY seventy?”   “Some of them are collectibles, dude. There’s a difference.”   “Of course there is.”   “And second, what’s yours?”   Paul’s grin widened as he entered the search field.   “ClutchKnight15.”   Andy went completely still. His eyes narrowed. Then he slowly tipped his head backward against the couch.   “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”   “What?”   “Another Batman guy.”   “What’s wrong with Batman?”   Andy gestured toward the television with theatrical exasperation.   “Let me guess. Batman wins every fight because he’s got unlimited money, a utility belt, and thirty seconds of prep time.”   Paul sat straighter.   “Thirty seconds? Come on, man. Give him at least five minutes.”   Andy groaned.   “Oh, here we go.”   Paul’s smile grew.   “All right, then. Who’s king of your superhero universe?”   Andy didn’t hesitate.   “Spider-Man. Obviously.”   Paul stared.   “Spider-Man?”   “Peter Parker, baby!”   Andy pointed toward the camera.   “The friendly neighborhood GOAT.”   Paul leaned forward, his expression becoming delightfully serious.   “Okay, Spider-Man’s awesome. But Batman is Batman.”   “And what exactly is Batman gonna do when Spider-Man’s swinging around him at about a hundred miles an hour?”   “Figure out how to stop him.”   “With prep time!”   “It’s called strategy!”   “It’s called cheating!”   Their laughter filled both living rooms, and for a few wonderful minutes, the distance between Utah and Florida seemed to disappear. He wasn’t watching his wrist tracker or worrying about the protection beneath his blue-and-white striped shorts. His attention was entirely consumed by the ridiculous pleasure of arguing about superheroes with somebody who seemed to enjoy the argument every bit as much as he did. Andy, meanwhile, was already preparing his next attack.   “Okay, let’s talk movies. No Way Home. Three Spider-Men. Three! All on the same screen. You can’t beat that.”   Paul gave an exaggerated look of pity.   “Oh, Andy.”   “What?”   “You’re really gonna bring up movies against Batman?”   “Absolutely.”   Paul gestured toward himself.   “The Dark Knight. Christopher Nolan. Heath Ledger. That truck flip.”   Andy opened his mouth. Paul wasn’t finished.   “And, by the way, my dad was actually on set for some of the stunt work.”   Andy froze.   “Wait.”   Paul grinned.   “Yep.”   “Your dad?”   “Yeah. Remember that scene where they flip the semi-truck in the street?”   Andy nodded immediately.   “Of course!”   “They did that for real. Practical stunt. My dad was involved with the production side of some of that work.”   Andy sat upright so suddenly that Grumpy Bear slid into his lap.   “DUDE!”   Paul laughed at the reaction.   “I’m serious.”   “Okay, no. That’s not fair.”   “What isn’t?”   “You can’t use real-life Hollywood connections to win a superhero argument!”   Paul shrugged innocently.   “Sounds like somebody’s running out of material.”   Andy shook his head, but there was unmistakable admiration behind his smile.   “That’s actually insanely cool. Your dad worked on The Dark Knight?”   “Yeah. He’s been in the film industry forever. Mostly the production and stunt side of things.”   “Man, that’s awesome.”   For a moment, Andy looked almost reverent. Then his competitive instincts returned.   “Still doesn’t change the fact that Spider-Man has never had a movie as bad as Batman & Robin.”   Paul’s smile vanished. He stared at the screen. Andy grinned.   “Oh, yeah. I went there.”   “Low blow, dude.”   “Bat-credit card.”   “Don’t.”   “Rubber nipples.”   “ANDY!”   The two young men burst out laughing. Paul wiped at the corner of one eye, then pointed toward the camera.   “Fine. You wanna play that game? Batman: The Animated Series is better than The Spectacular Spider-Man.”   Andy gasped.   “Take that back!”   “Not happening.”   “Dude, Spectacular Spider-Man was incredible!”   “Sure. For the five minutes it existed before they cancelled it.”   Andy clutched his chest.   “That hurt.”   “Good.”   Paul folded his arms triumphantly.   “Meanwhile, Batman had Kevin Conroy, Mark Hamill, Mr. Freeze, Harley Quinn, the whole thing. Absolute legendary television.”   Andy considered the argument. Then nodded reluctantly.   “Okay. I’ll give you that Batman: The Animated Series was amazing.”   Paul smiled.   “Thank you.”   “But Spectacular Spider-Man deserved another season.”   “Absolutely.”   They looked at one another. For the first time in their superhero debate, there was complete agreement. Andy leaned forward.   “And the games?”   Paul’s eyes brightened.   “Oh, dude.”   “Arkham?”   “GOAT tier.”   “Insomniac Spider-Man?”   “Also GOAT tier.”   Andy threw both hands into the air.   “FINALLY!”   Paul laughed.   “See? We can agree on something.”   “Two things,” Andy corrected. “Great superhero games and the fact that your hockey team is overrated.”   Paul shook his head.   “Friendship cancelled.”   Andy collapsed against the cushions, laughing. A few feet away in the Goldhawk guest suite, the fireplace continued burning beneath the television. The mid-morning sunlight had shifted across the windows, illuminating the pale blue stripes of Paul’s shorts and the white fabric of his Panthers jersey. His wrist tracker rested quietly against his arm, its indicator remaining green. He hadn’t checked it in several minutes. That, perhaps more than anything, was progress. Paul shifted forward.   “Hey, you watch basketball?”   Andy tilted his head.   “More than I play. Why?”   “Just wondering.”   Andy grinned.   “Raptors, dude. Toronto all the way.”   Paul’s eyebrows rose.   “Seriously?”   “Of course. Leafs and Raptors. I’m basically contractually obligated.”   Paul laughed.   “Okay, I can respect that. I used to be a huge Vince Carter fan.”   Andy’s face brightened.   “Vinsanity!”   Paul nodded enthusiastically.   “Dude, those dunks!”   “The 2000 dunk contest!”   “Exactly!”   Andy leaned forward, suddenly animated.   “My dad used to show me all those old highlights. Vince Carter made basketball look like somebody turned off gravity.”   Paul laughed.   “That’s honestly the best description I’ve heard.”   For several minutes, the conversation wandered happily through basketball history. They talked about the Raptors’ championship, favorite players, and the peculiar frustration of supporting Toronto teams through years of disappointment. Andy admitted that he enjoyed watching basketball considerably more than playing it. Paul, however, had a different relationship with the sport.   “We’ve actually got a basketball half-court in the backyard at home.”   Andy stared.   “Wait. Like an actual half-court?”   “Yeah. Proper hoop, painted lines, everything.”   “Dude, your house sounds amazing.”   Paul smiled.   “My dad’s always been big on having stuff we can do together. Basketball, swimming, movies. That kind of thing.”   He paused briefly.   “I haven’t been using the court much lately, obviously.”   Andy nodded without making the moment uncomfortable. Then he grinned.   “I’ve got a ball pit.”   Paul blinked.   “A what?”   “A ball pit. And a little rock-climbing wall in my playroom.”   Paul started laughing.   “Okay, that sounds pretty awesome.”   “It is! The climbing wall isn’t huge or anything. Just enough to mess around on. And the ball pit’s amazing when I wanna relax.”   Andy glanced toward Grumpy Bear.   “I used to play soccer a lot too, before everything got complicated with my condition.”   Paul’s expression softened.   “Were you good?”   Andy smiled.   “I thought I was.”   “That means no.”   “Hey!”   They laughed again.   Andy continued describing how he’d played soccer with friends when he was younger, before his severe cold sensitivity made outdoor sports more complicated. He missed the games, the competition, and the feeling of chasing a ball without having to think about the weather. Paul listened. And somewhere beneath the laughter, he recognized another familiar loss.   The things people stopped doing because their bodies had changed. The activities they missed. The strange grief of knowing that something once ordinary had become difficult.   But Andy didn’t seem interested in remaining sad about it. He’d found other things. Video games. Indoor activities. Anime. Basketball. A ridiculous collection of plush toys. And, apparently, an entirely unreasonable belief that Spider-Man was better than Batman. Paul smiled. He was beginning to like this guy.     In Florida, Samantha stepped into her kitchen as Lilly’s phone call connected. The room was bright and welcoming, with polished hardwood floors, pale neutral walls, and a large marble-topped island surrounded by wooden counter-height chairs. Thick dark-stained timber posts rose toward the ceiling, while three glass pendant lights hung above the island, scattering warm reflections across the stone. The kitchen had a distinctly rustic character. A textured golden-brown stone backsplash stretched behind the counters, contrasting with dark cabinetry and the enormous natural-wood pantry standing against the far wall. Built-in stainless-steel appliances reflected the daylight, and a framed painting of sailboats rested above a narrow shelf decorated with a few small keepsakes.   Near the end of the island, a piece of sculptural driftwood had been arranged as a centerpiece, its weathered branches rising from a stone base like something carried ashore by the ocean. Samantha liked the room. It reminded her of the life she’d worked hard to build.   Comfortable. Practical. Warm.   A home where people could relax without feeling they were visiting a showroom. She placed her phone against a small stand on the island, retrieved an iPad from a nearby drawer, and settled onto one of the wooden chairs. With a few familiar movements, she transferred the call to the tablet. Lilly’s face appeared. Then Bryan’s.   “Hey, there we are,” Samantha said warmly.   Lilly smiled.   “Hi again, Sam.”   Bryan leaned into the frame.   “Hopefully we’re not interrupting your afternoon.”   “Not at all. I think Andy’s already forgotten I exist.”   She laughed.   “He’s been waiting for somebody his age to talk games with for ages.”   Lilly’s smile widened.   “Well, I think Paul has too.”   The scene shifted westward, following the conversation across the country. In Utah, Lilly and Bryan had settled at the expansive kitchen island overlooking the great room of the Park City estate. Their kitchen was a dramatic contrast to Samantha’s. Where hers was warm, rustic, and intimate, the mountain residence was sleek and architectural. A broad white quartz island stretched across the center of the open space, surrounded by white upholstered barstools with dark wooden legs.  Bryan pulled a second stool closer to Lilly, bringing them both comfortably into the iPad’s frame. Samantha smiled.   “Well, I think we can all agree on one thing.”   “What’s that?” Lilly asked.   “Those two seem to be getting along beautifully.”   Lilly laughed softly.   “Oh, Sam. I can’t tell you what a relief that is.”   Samantha leaned forward.   “Paul seems like such a polite young man. Very thoughtful too.”   She smiled.   “And the way he carries himself! He’s got that lovely combination of being a little shy at first, but once he’s comfortable, you can see how bright he is.”   Bryan nodded.   “He’s always been that way. Give him a subject he loves, and you’ll have a hard time getting him to stop talking.”   “Nothing wrong with that,” Samantha replied.   Lilly’s expression softened.   “Andy’s just wonderful, Sam. He’s such a bundle of honesty and sweetness. I don’t think I’ve met somebody who can be that completely himself within five minutes of an introduction.”   Samantha laughed.   “Oh, that’s Andy.”   “And that adorable bear of his!” Lilly added. “I don’t think he’s put it down once.”   “Grumpy?”   Lilly nodded. Samantha smiled affectionately.   “That bear is practically a member of the family.”   She looked toward the hallway leading back to the living room.   “Andy usually operates little first, big second. And on some days, the big side is a distant third.”   Bryan chuckled.   “Sounds like he’s pretty comfortable with it.”   “He is now,” Samantha replied. “But it took time to get there.”   Her smile became more thoughtful.   “And to be clear, he makes plenty of adult decisions. He’s opinionated, intelligent, and perfectly capable of telling me when he disagrees with something. He just genuinely enjoys having that softer, more playful part of his life available to him.”   Lilly nodded slowly.   “I think that’s something Paul is still trying to understand.”   Samantha studied her.   “It’s a lot to adjust to.”   “Especially when it wasn’t something he ever imagined for himself.”   The women exchanged a small, understanding look. Bryan glanced toward the iPad.   “So, Sam, tell us a little about yourself. I mean, we know some of Andy’s story now, but we haven’t heard much about yours.”   Samantha smiled.   “Well, I’ve been working at Salesforce for the last five years. I’m a senior sales team manager.”   Bryan raised his eyebrows.   “Salesforce?”   “That’s right.”   “That’s a pretty demanding job.”   “It can be,” Samantha admitted. “I’ve got a team spread across different territories, and between forecasts, coaching, pipeline reviews, and the usual management chaos, there are days when my calendar looks like somebody spilled alphabet soup all over it.”   Lilly laughed.   “Oh, I know that feeling.”   Samantha nodded.   “But the wonderful thing is that I’m able to work remotely. My team is used to video meetings, and I’ve been fortunate enough to structure my schedule so I can manage my responsibilities while being home for Andy.”   Bryan looked impressed.   “That must make a tremendous difference.”   “It does. Especially with his temperature restrictions.”   She paused.   “And over the years, we’ve built a little support system with two other families whose daughter and son each mirror either a condition that requires little space or, in Jessie's case, well, she didn't start off in little space as a choice, more like a last resort, which basically helped give her a second chance at a real life. Jessie and AJ are close friends of ours, and their parents have become part of our extended family.”   Lilly leaned closer.   “Oh, that’s lovely.”   “It really is. We’ve sort of created our own small learning and caregiving group. The three of us who handle most of the daytime support completed Florida’s approved home-education training and coursework so we could help the boys through their elementary and secondary studies.”   Samantha laughed.   “Some days it feels like a school. Other days it feels like a very disorganized daycare in the best possible way.”   Bryan smiled.   “I can imagine.”   “We call it our little post-preschool sometimes, mostly because Andy refuses to stop naming things like he’s running a cartoon television network.”   Lilly chuckled. Samantha continued.   “And Jessie’s father, Thomas, has been an enormous help. He’s got a PhD with a background in the history and philosophy of science and technology.”   Bryan raised an eyebrow.   “That sounds impressive.”   “It sounds even more impressive when Thomas explains it,” Samantha replied with a grin. “He teaches part-time at Flagler College in St. Augustine, and he enjoys teaching history, critical thinking, and some early college-level material.”   Lilly nodded appreciatively.   “So they have access to some wonderful educational support.”   “They do. It’s a small group, but it works for them.”   Bryan looked toward Lilly. Then back at Samantha.   “Has Andy always been homeschooled?”   Samantha considered the question.   “Ever since he moved down here, yes, although the arrangement became more structured as he got older. His bladder issues were already part of his life, and around two years after the move, when full-time diapering became his normal routine, I realized how much energy he was spending worrying about being changed or discovered.”   Her expression grew serious.   “His other condition already meant we had to be incredibly careful about his environment. I didn’t want school to become another place where he spent every day frightened.”   Lilly nodded.   “That makes sense.”   “I wanted him learning,” Samantha continued. “Making friends, discovering what he loved, building confidence. Not spending every hour worrying whether somebody might notice his medical needs.”   She smiled.   “And eventually, we found a routine that worked.”   Bryan leaned against the island.   “Sounds like you’ve done an incredible job.”   Samantha waved away the compliment.   “Oh, we’ve made plenty of mistakes along the way.”   She looked toward Lilly.   “What about Paul? Is he homeschooled now?”   Bryan drew a slow breath. The question brought the complicated reality of Bishop’s Gate back into the room.   “Actually, Paul already has enough credits to graduate.”   Samantha looked surprised.   “Really?”   Bryan nodded.   “He’s always been academically strong. But he wanted to stay in school because he was one of the leads in the school production of To Kill a Mockingbird.”   Samantha smiled.   “Oh, how wonderful. He’s an actor?”   “He loves performing,” Lilly answered. “Theater, storytelling, film. He really comes alive when he’s doing something creative.”   Bryan smiled with obvious pride.   “And he’s good at it.”   “I believe it,” Samantha said warmly. “He certainly has a personality that would translate well to the stage.”   Her smile softened.   “And honestly, staying in school while managing everything you’ve described takes an extraordinary amount of courage.”   Lilly’s expression changed. Only slightly. But Samantha noticed.   “Lilly?”   Lilly glanced toward Bryan. He nodded, allowing her to continue.   “Well… everything was going relatively well until Paul’s medical needs were exposed during a really nasty incident in the school gym.”   Samantha’s face grew serious.   “Oh, no.”   Bryan’s jaw tightened.   “There was a fight. Paul was assaulted, his medical protection was exposed, and the whole situation became incredibly traumatic.”   He paused.   “We’re still dealing with the consequences.”   Samantha leaned forward.   “I’m so sorry.”   Lilly looked down briefly.   “It was awful, Sam. And the reaction from some of the students has made it even worse.”   Samantha’s expression held genuine concern.   “Is he still enrolled?”   “That’s complicated,” Bryan replied. “We’re dealing with the school through legal counsel, and it’s something we’ll have to address properly in the new year.”   He folded his hands.   “As far as where Paul goes next, that’s still up for discussion.”   Samantha nodded thoughtfully.   “Well, I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but I would be more than happy to invite Paul to join our little learning group if that’s something he’d enjoy.”   Lilly looked up.   “Really?”   “Of course.”   Samantha smiled.   “Andy and AJ are going to be looking at some post-secondary credits soon, and Thomas has been helping them explore options. If Paul wanted to attend a session or two, even just to see whether he likes it, we’d be delighted to have him.”   Bryan considered the offer.   “That could actually be interesting.”   Lilly nodded.   “Paul’s been talking about some online college courses in broadcasting and communications.”   Samantha brightened.   “Oh, perfect!”   “He’s always loved that side of media,” Bryan explained. “Radio, television, production, storytelling. He gets it from me, I suppose, although he’s got his own ideas about what he wants to do.”   Samantha smiled.   “And what exactly do you do, Bryan?”   He chuckled.   “That depends on how long you’ve got.”   Lilly laughed.   “Careful, Sam. You’ve opened the door.”   Bryan shook his head affectionately.   “I’ve spent most of my career in film production, particularly the physical and practical stunt side of things. Over time, my responsibilities have expanded into overseeing larger productions and working on some of the business arrangements involving digital distribution and streaming.”   Samantha looked impressed.   “Wow.”   “It’s been a good career,” Bryan admitted. “A demanding one, but good.”   He glanced toward the great room windows.   “For years, it meant traveling constantly. California, international locations, wherever the production happened to be shooting.”   Lilly rested a hand against his arm. Bryan continued.   “But after everything with Paul, I fought pretty hard to keep my work stateside. More office-based responsibilities, fewer extended location shoots.”   Samantha nodded.   “That must have been a major adjustment.”   “It was. But I wanted to be home.”   His voice softened.   “Paul’s had enough people coming and going in his life. I wasn’t going to be another one.”   Lilly squeezed his arm. Bryan smiled faintly.   “And Lilly’s own work has been expanding. She’s involved in social media and digital content, and her schedule can get pretty wild too.”   Samantha laughed knowingly.   “Sounds familiar.”   “So between my new office hours and Lilly’s commitments, finding reliable support for Paul is something we’re thinking carefully about.”   Lilly nodded.   “We have some wonderful people around us already. Kim, Charles, Martina, medical professionals, family friends. We’re very fortunate.”   She looked toward Samantha.   “But we’d absolutely be interested in learning more about what you’ve built.”   Samantha smiled.   “I’d love that.”   Back in the guest suite, Paul stared toward the television with an expression of profound disbelief. Andy had just finished explaining why One Piece was not merely an anime series, but an essential cultural experience that Paul apparently needed to begin watching immediately.   “Over a thousand episodes?”   Andy nodded proudly.   “Yep.”   Paul shook his head.   “Dude, that’s not a television show. That’s a cult.”   Andy burst out laughing.   “You don’t understand! The world-building is insane!”   Paul grinned.   “I’m gonna be thirty by the time I catch up.”   “Worth it.”   Then, as the conversation settled, Paul found his attention drifting toward the young man on the other side of the screen. Andy had shifted into a more relaxed position on the couch. His Maple Leafs jersey was slightly rumpled, Grumpy Bear rested in his lap, and he seemed perfectly content sitting there without worrying about how he appeared.   Paul hesitated.   There was something he’d wanted to ask since the beginning. Something that had been lingering beneath every joke about hockey and superheroes. He wasn’t sure whether he had the courage. But Andy had been honest with him. Perhaps he could return the favor.   “Hey, Andy?”   “Yeah, dude?”   Paul swallowed.   “Can I ask you something kinda personal?”   Andy smiled.   “Sure.”   Paul glanced toward the door, making certain his parents weren't outside waiting. Then looked back at the screen.   “How do you deal with the whole diaper thing and school?”   Andy considered the question. Then reached toward the purple pacifier resting beside him. He picked it up, slipped it into his mouth, and settled comfortably against the sofa. His response emerged rounded and noticeably muffled.   “Shilly. I’m home-shchooled.”   Paul blinked. Andy smiled around the pacifier.   “By Aunty Sham, or Jeshie’sh mommy, or AJ’sh mommy. Shometimesh Jeshie’sh daddy too. He’sh, like, weally shmarth.”   Paul stared.   “Wait. You’re homeschooled?”   Andy nodded.   “Mm-hmm.”   “With other people? Like you- I mean, like us, like this?”   Another nod. Paul’s expression changed. He tried to imagine what that would have been like. No school corridors. No crowded locker rooms. No pretending he didn’t need the nurse’s office. Andy watched his face. Something about Paul’s expression made him pause. He removed the pacifier with a small pop.   “Dude?”   Paul looked up.   “Yeah?”   “Why do you look so sad?”   Paul hesitated. Andy tilted his head.   “Don’t you get homeschooled?”   Paul shook his head.   “No.”   He glanced toward his hands.   “I went to school. Like, regular school.”   Andy nodded. Paul continued.   “At first, when everything started happening, I was wearing pull-ups. I figured I could manage those without anybody really noticing.”   He gave a small, humorless laugh.   “Then things got worse, and I had to switch to full diapers.”   Andy listened quietly. Paul shifted against the couch.   “The school nurse, Whitney, was actually really cool about it. She’d help me change when I needed it, and we had a private place set up.”   He looked toward the television.   “She never made me feel bad.”   Andy smiled.   “Dude, that sounds like you had a really good plan.”   Paul nodded slowly.   “Yeah.”   Andy leaned forward.   “And honestly? That’s brave.”   Paul blinked.   “What?”   “Going to school like that.”   Andy shook his head.   “I don’t know if I could’ve done it. I’d be scared of leaking or somebody noticing. Or somebody finding out and deciding they wanted to…”   His voice trailed away. Paul finished the sentence.   “Bully you.”   The words were quiet. Almost flat. Andy’s smile disappeared. He recognized the tone immediately. Not because he knew the details. Because he’d heard that particular kind of hurt before. The kind that didn’t need shouting to reveal how deeply it had settled. Andy leaned forward on the brown leather couch. Grumpy Bear slipped slightly against his leg. For several seconds, he simply looked at Paul. Then he spoke.   “Sorry.”   Paul nodded. He hadn’t expected the word to mean very much. But it did.   There was no nervous laughter behind it. No awkward attempt to turn the moment into a joke. Andy was simply sorry that something had happened to him. Paul drew a breath. Then another.   “It’s okay.”   He looked down at his wrist tracker. Green.   “I got jumped in the gym a few weeks ago.”   Andy remained silent. Paul swallowed.   “The guy cornered me. Things got ugly pretty fast.”   His voice tightened.   “He pulled at my clothes. My diaper got exposed. People were filming, and everybody was laughing.”   Andy stared. Paul looked away.   “I tried to cover myself. I tried to get away, but he wouldn’t stop.”   His fingers trembled against his knee.   “And then it turned into a fight.”   He paused. The room seemed quieter now.   “I got hurt pretty bad. Ribs, face, everything but he got the worst of it. They had to take me to the hospital.”   Andy remained still. Paul’s breathing began changing. He noticed it immediately. Shorter. Shallower.   He closed his eyes for a moment.   In. Out.   He tried to follow the rhythm Dr. Rowe & Washington had taught him. But the memories were close. Too close. The sound of laughter. The gym floor. The phones. The awful moment when he realized everybody could see. His tracker vibrated.   Orange.   Paul looked down. His stomach tightened. Andy noticed the movement.   “Hey, dude?”   Paul glanced up.   “What’s that thing on your wrist?”   Paul swallowed.   “My tracker.”   “Tracker?”   “Yeah. It monitors some of the stuff my nervous system does. Heart rate, stress signals, things like that.”   He turned his wrist slightly toward the camera.   “Because of my condition, when I get stressed, my body sometimes starts doing things it shouldn’t. Tremors, weakness, breathing weird, sometimes losing control.”   Andy nodded slowly.   “So it warns you?”   “Yeah.”   Paul looked at the orange indicator.   “Green means I’m good. Yellow means I need to pay attention. Orange means I’m getting close to a bad flare.”   Andy frowned.   “And red?”   Paul’s expression darkened.   “Red’s really bad.”   Andy nodded. He didn’t ask for details. Instead, he looked toward the camera.   “So what do you do when it goes orange?”   Paul hesitated. His face grew warm. He glanced toward the small blue-and-white pacifier resting beside him. Then toward Andy.   “Um…”   Andy waited. Paul swallowed.   “I kinda…”   He stopped.   The embarrassment returned immediately. Not the same terror as before. But familiar enough. He was an eighteen-year-old young man explaining to somebody he’d just met that one of the most effective ways to calm his nervous system involved a pacifier. He wanted to say it confidently. Like Andy would. But the words caught.   “I suck my binky.”   His cheeks flushed.   “I mean… my paci.”   Andy looked toward him. Then toward the purple pacifier in his own hand. His expression softened into a smile.   “Dude, go ahead. It’s no big deal.”   Paul looked down. His fingers trembled as he reached for the familiar blue-and-white pacifier. He lifted it. Paused. Then lowered it slightly. Andy recognized the hesitation. He simply slipped his own purple pacifier back into his mouth. Then pointed gently toward Paul.   “Yow tuwn, bwo.”   Paul stared. For a moment, he seemed almost unable to believe what he was seeing. Andy was sitting there. With a pacifier in his mouth. And smiling at him as though none of it was remarkable.   Paul’s cheeks remained warm.   But something inside him loosened. He lifted the blue-and-white pacifier. Settled it between his lips. And took a slow breath. The familiar rhythm began almost immediately. His shoulders lowered. His fingers gradually stopped trembling. The orange light on his tracker lingered for several seconds, then shifted toward yellow.   Andy smiled. Paul looked up.   Their eyes met across the screen. Neither spoke. There was no need. The two young men simply sat quietly, each using the familiar self-soothing tool that helped him feel comfortable, listening to the soft sounds of breathing and the faint, rhythmic movement of their pacifiers. For Paul, the silence was extraordinary. He had spent so much time imagining how somebody might react if they saw him like this. The embarrassment. The laughter. The disgust. And now somebody was watching. Somebody his own age. And nothing terrible happened. Paul glanced toward his tracker.   Yellow. Then green.     At the kitchen island in Utah, Bryan had grown unusually quiet. Samantha had been describing some of the routines she’d established for Andy, but the conversation had gradually moved toward something more personal. How both young men lived. How their medical conditions affected their daily lives. And why forms of comfort that might seem unusual to outsiders had become important parts of their support. Bryan folded his hands on the marble countertop.   “Paul’s bladder control has been one of the biggest challenges.”   Samantha nodded.   “I can imagine.”   “His doctors believe incontinence will be perment moving forward there will always be a need for extra padding. We think we could manage the severity, and we’re working on strategies to reduce accidents, but diapers have become the most reliable option.”   Lilly leaned toward the iPad.   “And sometimes his bowel control is affected too, especially during more severe episodes.”   Samantha’s expression remained calm.   “That must be espically difficult for him.”   “It is,” Bryan admitted. “Especially because he’s still trying to come to terms with needing protection at all.”   He paused.   “But there’s something we’ve noticed.”   Samantha tilted her head.   “What?”   Lilly smiled faintly.   “When Paul wears the thicker, more comfortable ones- especially the ones with the cute designs- he actually seems less anxious.”   Bryan chuckled softly.   “Lilly’s a particular fan of the cute designs.”   She gave him a playful look.   “Well, they are adorable.”   Samantha laughed.   “I understand completely.”   Bryan smiled, then continued.   “It’s almost like its a crinkly security blanket. Not because the protection solves the condition, but because he knows he has a margin of safety. He can relax without worrying quite so much about every little sensation.”   Samantha nodded thoughtfully.   “That’s very similar to Andy.”   She smiled.   “One less thing to worry about. And he genuinely enjoys the playful designs.”   Her expression became affectionate.   “I’ll admit, seeing him toddling around the house in one of those ridiculous monster prints does make me smile.”   Lilly laughed.   “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.”   Bryan shook his head with an amused expression.   “I’m beginning to think you two are going to spend an entire afternoon comparing diaper patterns.”   Samantha grinned.   “Quite possibly.”   Then Bryan’s expression grew more serious.   “But for Paul, the bigger issue was what happened before we got the right support in place.”   He looked toward Lilly. She nodded, encouraging him to continue.   “His anxiety was affecting everything. His sleep. His appetite. His willingness to go places. Even his ability to make basic decisions.”   Samantha listened closely.   “He’d stop drinking because he thought less fluid meant fewer accidents,” Bryan explained. “Sometimes he’d eat almost nothing because he was afraid of needing the bathroom or having a bowel accident.”   Lilly’s expression tightened.   “He was depriving himself of what his body needed.”   Bryan nodded.   “And then he’d get weak, exhausted, irritable, and overwhelmed. Which made the symptoms worse.”   Samantha sighed softly.   “A vicious cycle.”   “Exactly.”   Bryan rested his forearms against the counter.   “We’ve had to rebuild those routines almost from scratch. One of the things that’s helped is making meals simpler and more predictable. Smaller portions, regular snacks, foods that are easier for him to manage when his coordination is poor.”   She smiled.   “Sometimes that means yogurt bites, animal crackers, puffs, soft fruit, or fresh juice with vegetables blended in. We try to keep everything balanced, but we also want eating to feel manageable instead of stressful.”   Samantha nodded.   “That makes sense.”   “And because his hands can tremble, we’ve had to adjust how he drinks,” Lilly continued. “Sippy cups help. Sometimes bottles are easier when his coordination is particularly bad.”   Bryan chuckled.   “And we’ve learned that a bib can save an entire outfit when his tremors flare up at breakfast.”   Lilly laughed softly.   “Or dinner.”   “Especially dinner.”   She looked toward Samantha.   “Sometimes we help feed him when his hands are too unsteady. It’s not about taking independence away. It’s about making sure he gets enough food without exhausting himself. So if he's feeling really stressed, upset, or fussy, we'll soften the cadence, do our best to open up for the choochoo train, and most of the time, we'll have a happier boy with a full tummy.”   Samantha nodded approvingly.   “That’s an important distinction.”   Bryan continued.   “Sleep has been another challenge. Before we knew what was happening, he’d become restless or disoriented at night. There were a few falls, and now with his rib injury, we’re even more cautious.”   Lilly nodded.   “So we’ve set up a bed with protective rails and a lower sleeping surface. It gives him a safer environment when his balance isn’t reliable.”   Samantha’s expression softened.   “And how’s he adjusting?”   Lilly smiled.   “Better than he expected.”   She paused.   “The emotional side has been fascinating, honestly. When Paul’s system becomes overwhelmed, he sometimes needs what we’ve started calling little time.”   Samantha nodded knowingly. Lilly continued.   “Quiet activities. Toys. Comfortable clothing. Familiar routines. Sometimes he wants to be held, sometimes he wants to play, and sometimes he just needs the world to stop demanding things from him for a while.”   Bryan looked toward the mountains beyond the windows.   “At first, I didn’t understand it.”   His voice became quieter.   “I kept thinking we had to get him back to normal as quickly as possible.”   Samantha waited. Bryan turned back toward the iPad.   “But the more we’ve learned, the more I’ve realized that forcing him to push through everything was making things worse.”   He paused.   “When he gets time to decompress, he’s sleeping better. Eating better. His mood’s improving. He’s more focused.”   Lilly nodded.   “And our relationship with him has changed.”   Her expression softened.   “We’ve had moments with Paul that I honestly didn’t think we’d ever experience. Not because he’s becoming younger, but because he’s finally allowing himself to trust us with the parts of himself he’s always been frightened to show.”   Samantha smiled.   “That’s beautiful.”   Bryan looked toward Lilly.   “He still fights it sometimes.”   “Oh, absolutely,” Lilly replied.   She gave a small, affectionate laugh.   “Some mornings he wants nothing to do with the pacifier or the nursery. Other days he’ll practically ask to be tucked in before we’ve even finished lunch.”   Samantha chuckled.   “Sounds familiar.”   “But we’re learning not to make it a battle,” Bryan added. “If he needs comfort, we offer it. If he wants independence, we support it. The trick is figuring out what his body needs without making him feel like he has no choice.”   Samantha nodded slowly.   “That’s exactly the balance we’ve been working toward with Andy.”   She leaned back slightly.   “Our situation’s a little different, because Andy isn’t experiencing the same kind of regression that Paul's need from a medical perspective. For him, little space is more of a preferred emotional and recreational state.”   Lilly listened with interest.   “He enjoys it,” Samantha continued. “It helps him relax, and he’s been comfortable with it for years. He doesn’t always separate his adult and little sides as sharply as Paul seems to.”   Bryan nodded.   “That’s interesting.”   “Andy has more choice about when he enters that headspace,” Samantha explained. “And honestly, most days he prefers having some of those playful comforts around him.”   She smiled.   “His bedroom is practically a nursery, although we’ve adapted it for safety and independence.”   Lilly leaned closer.   “Oh?”   “He sleeps in a large crib-style bed, but one side has been modified into a lower toddler-bed opening, so he can get in and out without climbing over a rail.”   Bryan nodded approvingly.   “Smart.”   “It works beautifully. And if he has a nightmare or just wants a cuddle, he’ll get up and come find me.”   Samantha laughed affectionately.   “I’ve lost count of how many mornings I’ve woken up with a grown nephew curled beside me and a Care Bear taking up the other half of the pillow.”   Lilly smiled.   “Awwww.”   Samantha’s expression became more thoughtful.   “But the biggest complication with Andy is always temperature.”   Bryan leaned forward.   “Right. Because of the cold urticaria.”   “Exactly. Everything has to be considered through that lens. Bathing, drinks, outdoor activities, even touching certain surfaces.”   Lilly frowned.   “Bathing must be complicated.”   “It can be.”   Samantha smiled.   “Andy prefers baths to showers, partly because we can control the water temperature more consistently and partly because he loves his bath toys.” We use a thermometer and check the water carefully. It needs to remain within the range his medical team considers safe, without sudden cold exposure or overheating.”   She shook her head affectionately.   “And because Andy gets completely distracted splashing around with his toys, I’m usually the one reminding him that washing his hair is actually part of taking a bath.”   Lilly laughed.   “I can picture it.”   “He’s a character.”   Samantha continued.   “And his drinking cups are another big consideration. That’s why you saw the enormous blue handled cup earlier.”   Lilly nodded.   “I was wondering about that.”   “The handles help keep his hands away from the cold surface of the drink. We also avoid serving things at temperatures that might trigger a reaction.”   She paused.   “One time, he picked up a glass of lemonade with far too much ice in it. The outside was freezing, and he developed an immediate hive reaction where his hand touched the glass.”   Bryan’s expression changed.   “Just from holding it?”   “Yes.”   Samantha nodded.   “It looked almost like a burn at first, but it was a severe skin reaction. That’s how sensitive he can be.”   Lilly shook her head.   “My goodness.”   “So we use insulated containers, handles, and carefully controlled temperatures. It’s become routine for us, but visitors sometimes don’t realize how important those little precautions are.”   Bryan nodded.   “I can understand that.”   Samantha smiled again.   “And then there’s food.”   Lilly laughed knowingly.   “Oh, I have a feeling this is going to sound familiar.”   Samantha sighed theatrically.   “Andy is a picky eater.”   Bryan grinned.   “Really?”   “Extremely. If he could survive on pizza, dinosaur nuggets, and snacks, I honestly believe he’d try.”   Lilly laughed.   “Sounds like a certain young man I know.”   Samantha nodded.   “So we find ways to include vegetables wherever possible. Soups, sauces, blended dishes, anything he’ll actually eat.”   She smiled.   “Except pizza. The boy will eat practically any pizza you put in front of him.”   Bryan chuckled.   “Ninja Turtles?”   Samantha pointed toward the screen.   “How did you know?”   Lilly smiled.   “Oh, Paul’s a huge Ninja Turtles fan too.”   “Then those two are definitely going to get along.”   Samantha laughed.   “Andy was obsessed with them when he was younger, and apparently that obsession convinced him pizza is one of the essential food groups.”   Bryan shook his head. Samantha’s smile softened. She continued explaining how Andy’s playful routines sometimes helped with meals. When he was particularly distracted or reluctant to finish something nutritious, she might turn it into a game, using exaggerated airplane sounds or humorous commentary to keep him engaged.   “He loves the attention,” Samantha admitted. “But I try to make sure it stays fun rather than turning meals into a struggle.”   Lilly nodded.   “That’s exactly what we’re trying to do.”   “And yes,” Samantha added, laughing, “bibs are practically mandatory around here. Especially when he’s decided to eat while watching something exciting.”   Bryan chuckled.   “I know that situation.”   Samantha smiled.   “Clothing-wise, we keep things simple. Onesies, comfortable footed pajamas, easy-to-manage outfits. Anything that makes temperature regulation and changes less complicated.”   She glanced toward the living room.   “But as you saw, Andy’s perfectly happy spending half the day in a jersey and his protection.”   Lilly laughed.   “Paul’s building quite a collection of little-space clothing himself.”   “Oh?”   “Rompers, comfortable pajamas, soft outfits. I have to admit, I’m particularly fond of the rompers.”   Samantha smiled knowingly.   “They are convenient.”   “And cute,” Lilly added.   Bryan sighed.   “There it is again.”   Both women laughed. He shook his head. “I’m surrounded.”   Samantha grinned. The laughter lingered warmly between them. Then, as the conversation began winding down, Samantha glanced toward the clock on the microwave.   “Oh, goodness. We’ve been talking longer than I realized.”   Lilly checked the time.   “So have we.”   Bryan stood, stretching slightly.   “We should probably see what those two are up to.”   Samantha smiled.   “I’m almost afraid to ask.”     Samantha left her kitchen and walked back toward the living room. Her footsteps softened against the hallway floor. Ahead, the sixty-inch television glowed above the dark entertainment cabinet.   Andy sat exactly where she’d left him.   Except he was quieter now. Grumpy Bear rested against his side, one arm draped across its bright turquoise body. His Maple Leafs jersey hung loosely over his shoulders, and his purple pacifier moved gently between his lips. He wasn’t talking.   Neither was the young man on the television.   In Utah, Paul sat on the couch beneath the fireplace television, his white Panthers jersey slightly rumpled and his blue-and-white striped shorts folded comfortably over his knees. His own blue-and-white pacifier rested between his lips. The two young men simply looked toward one another, relaxed and quiet, apparently perfectly content sharing the moment without needing to fill it with conversation. Samantha stopped near the couch, her expression softened. She could tell something had happened. Not necessarily something bad. But something important. Andy looked calm in a way she recognized immediately. The sort of calm he found when he no longer felt he had to prove anything. On the other side of the screen, Paul looked much the same. Samantha smiled.   “Well, would you look at you two.”   Andy glanced toward her. His eyes brightened.   “Aunty!”   The word emerged muffled around his pacifier. Samantha crossed toward the sofa.   “Have you boys been having a good time?”   Andy nodded enthusiastically.   “Mm-hmm!”   Paul smiled around his own pacifier. Bryan and Lilly had returned to the guest suite. Lilly stopped beside the couch. For a moment, she simply watched her son. Only a little earlier, he’d been sobbing against Bryan’s shoulder, convinced that his medical needs made him something shameful. Now he was sitting in plain view of another young man, using his pacifier without trying to hide it.   And he was smiling. Lilly felt her throat tighten. She rested a hand against Paul’s shoulder.   “Hey, sweetheart.”   Paul looked up.   “Mmm?”   She smiled.   “How was your conversation?”   Paul nodded again.   “Goo’, Mommy.”   Bryan chuckled.   “Sounds like a glowing review.”   Andy laughed around his pacifier. Samantha settled beside her nephew.   “Well, boys, I hate to interrupt, but I think we’ve been on this call for quite a while.”   Andy made a disappointed noise.   “Awww.”   Paul’s expression fell slightly. Lilly brushed his hair gently.   “We need to grab some lunch, sweetheart. And I think a little rest before we head back out on the slopes would be a good idea.”   Paul’s eyes widened. He removed the pacifier just long enough to speak clearly.   “We’re still going tubing?”   Bryan grinned.   “Assuming you’re feeling up for it.”   Paul gave a delighted little squeal.   “Yes!”   Lilly laughed.   “There he is.”   Samantha smiled at the reaction.   “Well, you have fun out there. Sounds like a wonderful afternoon.”   Bryan nodded.   “Should be. We’ve got quite the crew waiting for us.”   Samantha leaned forward slightly.   “Actually, when are you all coming back to Jacksonville?”   Bryan glanced toward Lilly.   “We land early New Year’s Day.”   Samantha’s expression brightened.   “Oh! Then why don’t we get together at my place on the second?”   Lilly looked interested.   “Friday?”   “Exactly. That way the boys can finally meet in person.”   Andy immediately sat upright. His pacifier bobbed.   “Yesh!”   Paul turned toward the television.   “Yesh!”   Both young men laughed at the identical muffled response. Bryan smiled, though his expression became apologetic.   “I may need a rain check on that one. Unfortunately, I’m back in the office that Friday.”   Samantha nodded.   “Of course. Completely understandable.”   Lilly looked toward Paul. Then back toward the screen.   “I’d love to bring him, though.”   Paul’s face brightened.   “Really, Mom?”   She smiled.   “Of course, sweetheart.”   She looked toward Samantha.   “How about eleven in the morning?”   “Perfect,” Samantha replied. “I’ll text you the address.”   Andy lifted Grumpy Bear toward the camera.   “Gwumpy shaysh yesh too.”   Samantha chuckled.   “Well, I suppose that settles it.”   Bryan leaned toward the television.   “Andy, it was a real pleasure meeting you.”   Andy removed his pacifier briefly.   “You too, Bryan.”   “And Sam,” Bryan continued, “thank you. Really.”   Samantha’s expression softened.   “You’re very welcome. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you better.”   Lilly smiled warmly.   “So are we.”   For several seconds, nobody seemed particularly eager to end the call. Andy looked toward Paul. Paul looked back. Neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye. Finally, Andy raised his hand.   “Later, Panthers boy.”   Paul grinned.   “Later, Leafs fan.”   “All right, sweetheart. Let the poor boy go have lunch.”   Andy groaned.   “Aunt Sam.”   Lilly leaned toward the remote.   “Bye, Andy. Bye, Sam.”   “Bye, Lilly. Bye, Bryan. Bye, Paul.”   The young men waved one final time. Then the Zoom window closed. The television returned to its home screen. For a moment, the guest suite was quiet. Paul remained seated between his parents, his blue-and-white pacifier resting in one hand. He stared toward the blank television. A small smile lingered on his face. Bryan settled beside him.   “Well?”   Paul glanced up. Bryan raised an eyebrow.   “What do you think?”   Lilly sat on Paul’s other side. She watched him carefully. There was still a trace of exhaustion around his eyes, the kind that came after an emotionally difficult morning. The online harassment hadn’t disappeared. The legal problems remained. His symptoms would continue demanding attention, and the coming months held more uncertainty than any of them wanted to acknowledge.   But something had changed.   Paul wasn’t thinking about the Reddit thread. He wasn’t thinking about the gym. Or the students who had mocked him. He was thinking about a young man in Florida who loved hockey, superheroes, video games, and anime.  Who had quietly put his own pacifier in his mouth so Paul wouldn’t feel embarrassed using his. Paul looked toward Bryan. Then Lilly. His smile widened. He removed the pacifier and spoke clearly.   “I really can’t wait to meet my new friend in person.”   Lilly felt her eyes warming. Bryan smiled. For a moment, neither parent said anything. There was nothing to add. Paul had answered the question more beautifully than either of them could have hoped. Bryan reached across and pulled his son gently toward him. Lilly moved closer from the other side, wrapping her arms around them both. And there, on the comfortable couch beneath the television, the three Goldhawks shared a quiet family embrace.   Paul closed his eyes.   His father’s strong arm rested across his shoulders. His mother’s cheek brushed against his hair. The warmth of both parents surrounded him.   And for the first time that morning, he didn’t feel as though he was hiding from the world. He felt as though he was preparing to enter it again.   Not alone. Not ashamed. And perhaps, for the first time in a very long while, genuinely excited about what might be waiting on the other side.

Sluggish start this morning, but I'm posting anyway. Chapter is cut in half to be manageable and will post part 2 on Monday.   Chapter 11: A Little Shopping (Part 1) ========== Sarah woke in relative comfort once more, consciousness flowing slowly to her mind as she almost didn’t want to move. Her dreams were disconnected, mildly upsetting at points but she had already started to forget what they were about. She heard birds of some sort calling outside the window in patterns she had not heard before. She was content to lay still with odd tingling sensations in her chest, hands, and feet until she started to itch. She shifted herself to reach the itch on her leg, trying to move her hand to scratch but getting very little accomplished. She thought she was moving her hands properly, but she couldn’t quite get her nails to do more than tickle. She tried to ignore it, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Begrudgingly, she tried to roll herself over to then sit upright. She looked around as she sat up, once again being greeted with that room she woke in before. The desk was still below the window, the sunlight was shining over the shelving on the other side of the wall, and all was quiet. She reached her hand to her foot to scratch it lightly, then felt the bump where the stitches were and stopped herself. A blanket had slid down her front and she felt the ever so slight chill of the air on her skin and used her talent to grab the blanket and spread it out over her shoulders so she could trap her warmth. A faint glow from her wrist caught her attention, but by the time she looked, the couldn’t see more than the one wrist accessory that had been with her since she had arrived. <Huh, I wonder why they haven’t removed this thing yet.> Sarah thought to herself before hearing some footsteps and seeing the door open. “Morning kiddo, rise and shine.” Lizzie said cheerfully as she entered the room and moved toward Sarah. She was dressed in a long sleeved shirt that was striped along the forearms and another set of overalls. Sarah groaned, only to be lifted up by the armpits without the blanket and placed up against Lizzie’s chest. One arm held her side and seat while the other reached for her back as if to steady her before she felt more air flow down her back, making her shiver as she reached to pull herself closer into the feline. “Cold? Let’s get you cleaned up and into something warm then.” Lizzie said, transferring her onto the dresser with the straps. Sarah was awake enough to realize the dresser she was laying on was clearly not just a dresser, but some kind of changing table. The pad sucked away much of her warmth, making her gasp in response. “I know kiddo, it’s cold, just for a little bit. This will be over soon.” Lizzie responded with a single furred hand stroking over Sarah’s belly and chest comfortingly before resuming her task of cleanup. Sarah blushed, rolling her head away to face the wall as her legs were lifted and lowered and wiped down before finally setting her down on the familiar, dry, fabric-esque material that enveloped her waistline and crotch. “There we go, there’s that bit, now to get you some warm clothes.” Lizzie said, lifting her off the table and back into her shoulder, “We haven’t had much time to get you things that would fit, so we’re fixing that today, along with getting you a bunch of toys and tools to keep yourself entertained!” Sarah frowned as Lizzie moved to grab some clothes off some hangars, using her talent to lift up the desk notepad and brought it into view, blocking the view of a deep-blue shirt saying ‘I’m cute and I know it’ in white letters. “Yes, notepads, writing utensils, paints, brushes, even little figurines for you to paint if I can help it.” Lizzie agreed, leading to Sarah’s return of the notepad to its proper place. Her selection moved to a double-thick shirt covered in cartoonish depictions of watch-themed superheroes in full suits like a knockoff Sentai or Kamen Rider show and then sifted through the footed bottoms until a fuzzy blue one was selected for her. Sarah found herself briefly deposited onto the table again so she could be assisted into wearing the outfit in question before she was carried downstairs. She saw Wendy scribbling on a long sheet that was already partly filled out at the kitchen counter as various meats were sizzling on the stovetop. “Morning Wendy, Sarah’s all changed and dressed to go.” Lizzie said. “Mm, that’s good. I’m just going through the house while breakfast is cooking and thinking up other things we need. I just added the high chair, a travel snack tray, and at least one diaper bag.” “At least one? Why more than one?” “In case one gets lost or if we want to keep one in the car with more supplies and a lighter one to carry with us.” Wendy said, “I like being prepared, but I like travelling light if I can help it.” “Well, I’ll warn you now I’d rather just stick with the one and worry about others once we learn we actually need it, but it’s your call.” Lizzie said, moving to take a seat at the table where only two chairs sat, opting to place Sarah on her lap so that she could lean against the wall for support. Wendy busied herself with making food while Sarah observed how the pair operated in a semi-normal schedule. It was clear that Wendy could not stay put when there were things needing done, while Lizzie was more than content to only do what was needed and let the little things pass her by until it needed done. Wendy had written no less than 3 more things she wanted to shop for to her list before she placed their meals down on the table, her shopping list to the side of her plate, and the pair began to eat while Sarah used her talent to grab the oversized bottle to feed herself. Breakfast was mostly silent, Lizzie taking the time to make sure that Sarah wasn’t eating too quickly, Wendy trying to look around the home and mentally review everything they might possibly need like it would suddenly give her more inspiration. It must have worked because she wrote down one more thing before they finished eating and collected the plates. Once Sarah’s own breakfast had been finished, she was given more of the throat spray before being put into the carrier as the pair donned their coats to venture out into the cold. The trip itself was uneventful, Sarah was only lightly jostled about in the trip to some location, only seeing white skies and white-covered tree branches or other large buildings. They passed into some kind of parking garage before they came to a stop and she was disconnected from the car seat and carried out. This time, Wendy had taken her and Lizzie was walking ahead of her to get the door and a familiar looking sight, a shopping cart whose size matched their own. Sarah stared at the cart and took in just how much bigger it was until Sarah had been lifted up and over the handlebars and set neatly into the uncushioned seat where children would go. She was then fastened into place with the provided straps facing toward Wendy and then the cart was moved forward, giving Sarah the feeling of going backward. She was pushed past the automated doors and as she looked around, she could see a tall, long hallway with various store entrances that were all around her, each with lightly glowing signage indicating what their name and purposes were. Wendy pushed the cart in the first stop along the way, Sarah managed to twist and look up to see they were entering The Small Ones shop for ‘child, little, and human needs.’ Inside there were a few registers but mostly isle upon isle of products. Everything was sorted by age, from 0 to 10. The isles were also double deep, seeming to separate by fur children up front and humans in the back. <Weird, why would humans be listed from ages 0 to 10?> Sarah frowned before they were steered in the cart toward the back. Her eyes watched the various products meant for children, yet those children toys were large. Sippy cups for five year olds that were bigger than some adult cups she had used back home, food cups that claimed to be spill resistant yet never were, playsets of gears, trains, and arts and crafts with utensils slightly bigger than markers and highlighters Sarah had used in the past. Wendy maneuvered the cart until she found the section she was looking for, slowing down to a stop in front of the diaper bags and looking the options over.  “I like how big this one is. Diapers could go on one half vertically and we can store the wipes, powder, and creams in the other side, and this section seems insulated so it can be used for snacks and bottles.” Wendy pointed out. “We shouldn’t be out so long in one sitting she needs more than two though,” Lizzie countered. “We should think more about the toys, snacks, and drinks.” “Yes, but this one would still be able to carry those just fine and give us options if she’s not feeling well and needs changed more often.” Wendy countered. <I’m hearing this, i’m seeing this, and yet this feels unreal.> Sarah blinked, looking at the options herself and feeling strange that they were looking at bags the size of small to large suitcases. What neither of them commented on were the designs on the surface of the choices. Some were plain colors, some had repeating prints of some cartoonish humans and baby fur people, some were shapes or squiggle marks to be extra colorful, but none that appealing for her. “What if we kept it minimal, this would hold 2 changes, a travel pack of wipes, powder and cream, and a single bottle?” Lizzie suggested, pulling out a red-covered human-backpack sized carriable.  In Sarah’s estimation, even with the oversizing everything, She could have sworn the thing could hold four changes if pushed, but Sarah frowned and looked away as she realized what she was thinking about. <I am not going to participate in baby shopping for myself.> “That won’t be much…” Wendy frowned. “Yes, but that’s the point. We don’t need much most of the time, or we shouldn’t. You were the one saying we should get two, well I think this should be one of the two. It can be for trips like this one and the bigger bag can be for longer trips and hotel stays.” Lizzie countered, “Keep it simple Wend.” “Yeah, you’re right. If we’re going by that logic-” Wendy paused her statement as she reached for a medium sized suitcase split into 3 sections, each clearly trying to pre-allot for different baby supplies. It had a shoulder strap, a telescopic handle, wheels, and small legs. This carrier was a playful cyan color with three figures Sarah didn’t recognize on it to represent the different pockets it could open. One was a human in ridiculously oversized diapers like the rugrats, another was a blue bird flapping on top of a changing table with all its drawers open, and the last was a fridge with a puppy-person trying to stand on two quadrupedal cats reaching for a cookie jar on top. “This would do the job well.” “Wend, that might be overkill. Remember, we’re going to be the ones moving it around, so you’re only going to want to bring it when you have to.” “I-” Wendy hesitated, frowned, then picked up the ‘bag’ and put it in the cart. “I can live with that. Like you said, that’s for bigger trips right? That will be fine for those and can carry her toys easily enough. We can use the small one you got for all our regular trips just fine.” “Just making sure you thought that through.” Lizzie chuckled. “It’s nice being the one keeping you in check sometimes. Normally I’m the impulsive one!” “Uh huh,” Wendy playfully doubted before giving her a pat on the back right above the tail.  Lizzie only purred playfully before putting her travel bag on top of the larger one and they moved on to the next isles. Before Sarah realized it, the pair were looking over both a booster seat and a high chair, making a choice far more quickly and placing their boxes into the cart as well. Then they moved toward the clothing section of the ‘full grown’ human area and started rifling through the various options. “Ohhh look at this one! It’s so cute!” Lizzie suggested, showing a white shirt with a yellow fuzzy circle as a depiction of a chick animal. “It’s not so good for winter though, she has no fur to keep warm. What about this?” Wendy countered with a sweater-like shirt with different colors in its jagged lines. “Maybe on top of something but that will be warm indoors.” Lizzie said, then pulled out an oversized onesie with sleeves that went to the elbows and knees yet still had the buttons to snap at the seat. It was a deep forest green color with a few characters depicted above each breast. “That’s a good one… oh! How about these?” Wendy asked, pulling out a white long-sleeved shirt with jeans that would go up to Sarah’s stomach, holding out a short-sleeved version with shorts next to it. Once again, quick-snap buttons were present. “Good find.” Lizzie echoed. Sarah frowned and almost pouted, looking away. They were trying to shop for her and she hadn’t once been asked what she would like to wear! <I am still going to be dolled up here aren’t I… they might be nice, but they should remember I’m an adult, I should have a say!> It wasn’t until 7 outfits had been selected that Wendy checked on Sarah, about to bring over an 8th and wanted to lay it against Sarah’s body to estimate fit, when she noticed the distant staring and pouting expression. Wendy slowed, then licked her muzzle slowly before moving into Sarah’s line of sight and spoke gently. “Hey Sarah, you holding up ok?” Wendy asked. When Sarah’s response was only a shrug and refusal to meet her eyes, Wendy’s voice quieted further and a furred hand settled on her leg. “I imagine you’re feeling bored and upset we’re making choices without you. I don’t have a notepad for you to use yet, but if you can give me a minute, I’ll go get one for you and then I can know what you want. Is that ok?” Sarah’s pout turned into an unhappy frown, but she nodded and finally looked at Wendy. Wendy gave a small nod and patted the leg before walking off to retrieve a notepad and set of pens for Sarah to use. A few minutes later, and she returned with a set of pens and a notepad that were Sarah’s size. The pens were a little longer and wider than they needed to be, not to mention colorful, but Sarah was relieved to have them. She tried to grab with her hands, but she could barely get her thumb and fingers to touch. Sarah levitated the pad and pen into place with her talent with only mild awkwardness and using an arm to help stabilize before she wrote. ‘I get that I need clothes, but all of these clothes are a little too -cutesy-, babyish.’ She wrote, crossing out cutesy. ‘I’m sorry if it feels like I’m spending your money, but can’t I get some more normal, adult-themed clothes?’ Wendy read the message once the notepad was turned around, though the writing was so small she had to squint to read it clearly. “You don’t have to worry about spending our money dear. We’re adults, we can tell you know if it’s out of the budget we planned on spending today. That said, you won’t find that many clothes that will have you looking adult-like here. We can get you some formal wear, but you’ll be seen as dressing up for special occasions and stand out when you get your chance to play. Is that what you want?” Sarah frowned, finding this logic not quite working for her. She didn’t want to stand out, but she didn’t want to be treated like a child, no matter how normal that was here. “While you think, we’ll keep picking out some clothes. Our goal today is a total of fifteen outfits we would like to see you in. I’ll let you veto three of them so long as you look through the clothes available that would fit you and find their replacements. Is that acceptable?” ‘Why only three?’ Sarah wrote, this time using two lines to write the letters and trying to keep her handwriting as neat as she could manage. ‘Not even half?’ “No, not half. As much as I’d like to give you full agency in selecting, Lizzie and I are going to be selfish and get outfits that we want to see you in. At most I can give you five, but you’ll only get ten minutes after we’ve selected our fifteenth outfit to show us your replacements. That will be five picks from me, five from Lizzie, and five from you, and it will let us keep from shopping all day. Sarah frowned, unhappy, but nodding. Her issue was resolved, and she knew it was their money. She then actively took the time to hang the clothes that she did and did not approve of along the side of the cart. Ones she didn’t want to use her veto power on were hung on the side close to her seat while the ones she wanted to veto were hung on the rim of the other end of the cart. Try as she might, other than the double outfit set that Lizzie pulled earlier, nearly everything was childish or even babyish in adult sizings. The best she could do was replace a heavily pink outfit with white horizontal stripes and a rounded diaper cover with ruffles on its seat with a blue shirt that depicted a large pillow fort and a sign misspelling ‘werking from hom offis’ with a lizard-kobold-like creature in the fort next to a rotary phone. She failed to find a replacement pair of pants to go with it that would fit her, and thus her veto failed but they kept the shirt she picked out anyway. Ignoring Sarah’s red cheeks and her looking down at the floor at the idea of being asked to wear some of those clothes, she missed much of what was on the shelves until they reached a section where example shoes were on display and a curious machine with a small seat in front of it was present. On the ground in front of the seat there was a pair of red plastic-looking domes that could accommodate nearly all the feet Sarah could imagine people having from extra big to extra wide. Sarah was lifted and before she knew it, she was put into the seat and held in place by Lizzie. “Alright kiddo, do your best to put your feet on that red squishy box on the floor and step on it as hard as you can.” Lizzie instructed as she unzipped Sarah’s cloth boots from the pants and helped move her legs and feet into position. Sarah frowned, reaching for her notebook and pen, scribbling, ‘But I can’t move my toes or balance on my feet yet I don’t think. I don’t know how well I could step on it.’ “We know, it’s ok. I’ll be here to help hold you steady. All you need to do is do your best to keep your foot steady as if you were trying to stand. This thing will take care of the rest even if you can’t stand on your own.” Sarah continued to frown nervously, tucking her pen into Lizzie’s overall pocket and putting the notepad away before giving her a nod. Lizzie pushed the button, pressing Sarah’s feet into the red cushion with each hand, and to her surprise, the surface went from being firm to incredibly soft, letting her foot sink into it. Lizzie helped Sarah stand in place when the screen prompted her to stand, then down when she was to sit again. The machine whirred, hummed, and stayed quiet at times until a minute later, the gel seemed to stiffen and raise Sarah’s feet gently and independently. The indentation of her feet remained, but she felt nothing but comfort there, like it was a test of how the inside of a shoe custom fit for her would feel. There was soft cushion material under her arches and at the sides, firm material that cradled the balls of her feet and her heel, and the faint wiggling of her toes couldn’t quite touch the ‘rim’ of the shoe that it simulated. “How’s that feel, is it good?” Sarah nodded, grabbing her notepad and pen before adding, ‘That’s really cozy, I don’t know how it’d be better if this is how it’ll feel. Is it a custom fit? I think I was a size twelve back home-’ “Don’t worry about shoe sizing from home. We measure everyone’s paws and little feets to make shoes to order.” Lizzie said, “Since you won’t be growing up on us- well, more than you already are, we can afford to get you some of the good stuff that’ll last you years. Let’s get you three good play shoes, some rain and mud boots, and a set of hiking boots!” “Lizzie,” Wendy spoke in a mild, warning tone, “We budged for three pairs.” “Fiiine, how about this, some really fun play shoes, some nice serious ‘plain’ shoes like your clothes, and some hiking boots for when you’re healthy enough to come on hikes with us!” Lizzie tried to coax. “Like before, you pick a pair, I pick a pair, and she picks a pair!” Sarah pursed her lips and held them to the side, bobbing her head as she thought before reluctantly nodding. Lizzie wasted no time finding a pair of rugged hiking boots, a traditional mix of black and browns with an emphasis on gripping power, significant water resistance, and long-term comfort. As an added bonus, the boot’s undersides came with pawpad markings in the same pink color as Lizzie’s own. She added them to the cart and made room for Wendy. Wendy in turn looked for something she thought Lizzie and herself would find adorable on Sarah. She found a set of white trim, pink shoes with sparkles and magic wands all over them. She turned to look at Sarah who frowned and tried to shake her head no, but Wendy started nodding her head yes. Sarah swiftly went to get the notepad. ‘Veto, those will get dirty too easily and then all that pink would get buried anyway!’ “Oh? So getting dirty and hiding all the pink and cute designs is a concern? And here I thought you just didn’t like silly clothes!” Wendy smiled mischievously before scrolling to another selection. She found a green and blue set of shoes that primarily showed a curious depiction of a cartoon frog ninja on the front of the shoe, in the arch, and on the back heel with a pink-dress wearing boy and girl on the center pad of the shoe lifting a large magic staff together. “There we are, green to hide grass stains, and we still get to be silly with some frog ninjas protecting the twin princesses!” Before Sarah could object even slightly, the shoe was added to the cart and Wendy tapped on next shoe so Sarah could pick out her choice. Sarah sighed and gave Wendy a flat look before looking at the screen from the cart as she used a pen to gesture, point, and otherwise navigate the screen until she found a nice brown trim medium gray set of shoes that looked comfortable and professional in her eyes. Wendy tapped in a few more places and the screen said ‘Order placed, estimated arrival at home address: 7-10 days! Thank you for your patronage and happy trails!’ They moved on from the clothing section, entering the arts and crafts aisle to peruse options. Nothing caught Sarah’s interest particularly until she requested an additional notepad and then saw one of those fat, colorful pens that had multiple color ink options and sheepishly pointed her regular pen up at it with a light tap. Wendy chuckled and readily grabbed the pen to put in the cart. The next section they entered was the diaper and pull-up section. The extra shelving height had prevented Sarah from being able to see this aisle properly before, but now she could see all manner of options and sizes. Any given color of cover was present, a good half of the options were themed from one show or game or something Sarah couldn’t identify, while the others were plain colors or tye-dye and swirled. Every single option came in a human and fur variety, the only difference being a space near the upper band to hook around a tail around the stomach waistline. What caught Sarah’s attention more than the vibrancy of the choices was how half of them were advertising how they were thicker than regular options, often advertising their ‘extra odor reduction’ ability and improved dryness. Sarah, despite her embarrassment at them shopping for her supplies, noticed that the thicker options were paradoxically cheaper than the thinner options. She noticed the version that she had been wearing was considered a ‘thin’ diaper and swallowed dryly as she noted the double and even triple thick options were what Wendy and Lizzie were discussing. “I don’t know if she’s ready for a triple thick option yet.” Wendy worried. “Yeah, but if it keeps her dryer then that’s better for her to heal right?” Lizzie asked, “She’s still got stitches down there.” “Yes but the doctors said she needed to be changed frequently to reduce infection. That’s how we got the thin ones.” “And when she’s out of those we’ll want replacements.” “That’s 4 weeks away.” Wendy countered, “We should worry about buying those when it’s just one week left.” “We should have some of a few versions, just to let her try them and see what shape and designs she likes most.” Lizzie said, then turned to Sarah. “What do you think, you have any preferences?” ‘Why are you asking me like I’m used to diaper shopping for myself? I don’t know!!!’ Sarah wrote, looking up at Lizzie mildly horrified. “Whelp, that sounds like free reign for us then!” Lizzie said happily. ‘What? No! Pick something plain and ordinary for that. Not like anyone should see them.’ Sarah wrote quickly. The two ladies looked at each other and quietly giggled, failing to hold the giggles back. “Fine, we can get you one pack of the plain, ‘ordinary’ ones.” Wendy said. Lizzie grinned mischievously as she then looked around and found two packs of triple thickness diapers with designs and themes on them. One had different cars and trains both historical and futuristic on them, the other looked like it was covered in toy mechs across the band and backside with green and browns along the underside. Wendy plucked a plain, blindingly white pack of double thickness diapers along with a pack of triple-thick pink diapers. Then, on seeing what Lizzie got, she grabbed a double-thick pack of animal print diapers where they were cheerfully waving from between the legs or trying to climb up to the waistline, then the final selection was a double-thick princess tea party set with the bedroom displayed across the whole diaper. ‘Going overboard much? I thought you said ‘not for 4 weeks.’ Sarah write and showed with a pouty frown and reddened cheeks. “W-we’ll use them all up eventually, and Lizzie had a point. Once you finish healing from your surgeries, you’ll need to know which ones you like! Sarah rolled her eyes while Lizzie moved to push them into the next aisle, wherein the stroller and furniture could be found. This shopping proved to be particularly basic, with the primary concerns being Sarah’s comfort and the storability of the stroller. When Lizzie and Wendy had narrowed down which three they were wanting to consider for maneuvering Sarah, they asked for her permission to help test the comfort of the strollers. In her estimation, the last choice felt the best, was more relaxed, and had more of an option for her to get shade or shelter from the wind. She was willing to settle for the next best choice which had minimal shade and shelter beyond the basket for the ‘parents’ to hold things, where the seat was more of a hammock style. Wendy and Lizzie weighed the options and decided to go for Sarah’s option 2, mostly for the basket to carry things up top and below Sarah’s seat as well as much better ease of transport at a better price. “We’ll worry about getting a fancier one later.” Wendy promised, thinking more about how they didn’t technically have long-term custody of Sarah yet. Down the aisle they found booster seats of a few colors and sizes, but most of them were the same design. Minimal cushioning, good durability, and a focus on ease of cleaning were all that their designs kept in mind. In the same aisle, they found a thick looking chair with yellow legs, red seat and feet, and blue back. Each of the legs were almost as thick as Sarah’s thighs and the seat itself was almost as thick. Sarah was once again placed on the seat and asked how she liked it, and to her surprise, the seat had enough give she didn’t feel like she was sitting on the floor and more like halfway to sinking into the couch. She gave two nods of approval and like the stroller, Lizzie scanned a code on the shelf and added it to a digital cart. Similarly, a large, sturdy looking bean bag with gray fur was picked out, approved, and added to the order. As they reached the end of an aisle, they saw a row of human-sized backpacks, again filled with various graphics that Sarah did not recognize beyond vehicles, wands, landscapes, and cartoon styles. “Any preferences on backpacks Sarah? You might not be able to wear one yet but down the line you can put it on your back, and you should be able to carry it with your talent.” Wendy encouraged. Sarah looked over the options and shrugged, writing on the notepad, ‘I don’t recognize any of the franchises or characters, but I want something that I can recognize easily, so plain color is out.’ “Okay, we can work with that.” Lizzie said, looking the options over. “What about this one? They go on adventures, hopping into story worlds and getting in trouble ‘till they get back out again and tell everyone else what they were up to.” ‘Bit on the nose, isn’t it?’ Sarah asked with a smirk, sharing and getting a smile from the pair before shrugging, ‘It fits. Are we getting anything today to put in it so we know whether it’ll hold everything?’ “Good point. We’ll circle back to this after we finish getting you some toys.” Wendy said, moving to push her into the next section. Sarah then saw a wide variety of example toys on various shelves, all tied down securely and having tags to scan for purchase. “So what are you in the mood for? What do you like to play with?” Lizzie asked, gesturing to the shelves. ‘I mostly played video games and online tabletop when I got home, since a lot of my friends were in other states and countries. I like my RPGs with character builds, some adventure and action, not that much exploration… strategy and tactics stuff are fun too.’ Sarah wrote, then tried to look over the toys before continuing to write, needing the next page, ‘I don’t know what physical toys to use. Something for my talent training would be good, puzzles are okay but I get frustrated fast, building contraptions is fun I guess. Board games are best, but those usually need more people, like your tabletop game last night. I’ve played that before, sorta. The original anyway.’ “Wow, that’s a lot of writing from you this time. Let’s see what we can do.” Wendy smiled, using a hand to ruffle Sarah’s hair. She paused as Sarah seemed to use her arms to try to get the hair out of her face and behind her ears before using her own fingers to carefully help her as Lizzie went to look for choices. ‘It helps that I'm getting more choice and you’re asking me what I want. I still don’t like how you picked some things without asking.’ Sarah frowned slightly as she showed the notepad to Wendy.  Behind Wendy, another furson appeared, a rabbit about Wendy’s height and holding out her own phone in a hand. Her attention turned to look at Sarah, then Wendy and Lizzie. “I can understand. How about when we get home, I explain why we picked what we did and see how you feel after that. As long as they’re not opened, we can always return the things you refuse to wear or use.” Wendy explained gently, her focus staying on Wendy. ‘I would appreciate that. Thank you.’ Sarah wrote, yet while she wrote, a voice tried to interrupt that thought. “Preposterous, letting a pet human decide things.” The rabbit woman muttered loud enough to be heard.