Time ABerrations - Rose (Final 8/7/2022)

[DainaGirl]

This story is a part of the 2nd Kasarberang Story Contest, check out everybody else competing at the link!

Hello everyone. This is my first story here, and kinda my first anywhere that isn't an unfinished NaNo (but we all have those... right?). Either way, this takes place in a setting I created for some RP with close friends, called Time ABerrations. I'll leave the details for the story to disclose, but as the name implies, there's time travel shenanigans that are being used to regress the main character through twisting his past. If it matters, he's never going to be any younger than he currently is, but he may recall events from his past as the story progresses.

Anyway, enjoy the first chapter. It's mostly setup, but that's how these things go. I welcome any feedback, and I'm already working on Chapter 2. Thanks for reading!

 

Chapter 1

Oliver was lost and alone, sitting at the end of an unmade bed in the cheapest motel he could find, trying to understand where it all went wrong. It had been several weeks since he moved to the city, and every hope, every plan he had coming in had dissolved into dust, leaving him here. No job. No apartment. No hope.

It wasn’t that way just a month before. Back then he and his three best friends from college all had careers lined up in the big city, and had e-signed their lease to all live together. Ben had already started writing for the hottest new news startup, Kyle was setting up his high-end laptop with the latest CAD software, and Thomas was sketching layout ideas while paging through his company’s website. As for Oliver, he was told the company’s code was proprietary, and that required its hardware remain on site. Not an uncommon issue, but it did leave him with a gap to fill, so he packed his car and moved early. After all, the apartment was already waiting for him, and he could use the time to get some basic supplies and scope out the city.

As Oliver drove out to the city, his car still half empty, despite containing everything he owned, he could feel the future on the horizon, endless possibilities out here on the open road. With every mile, every hour, he dreamt of his future, and swore it would be a good one. See, Oliver wasn’t very outgoing, he only made his three friends in college by chance, and even they felt like they were always closer to each other than to him. But as that dark cloud of self-doubt started to well up, he just swore harder that things would be different this time. After all, he was in the prime of his life, well educated, with a clear, well-paying future ahead of him. All he had to do was be brave, and press on towards the horizon.

One busted pipe was all it took for it all to start crashing down.

“Sorry kid, we’re going to have to put you up in a hotel for a day or two til we get this sorted,” the manager grumbled at him. “Shouldn’t be much longer than that.”

Oliver fell back on old habits, and nodded meekly, jotting down the address of the hotel, and hopping on the group chat with his roommates, telling them to wait before moving out.

“No worries”

“All good”

"Have fun without us, bro!”

He sighed, lying back on the memory foam mattress. They were right, nothing to worry about, it probably happens all the time. After all, the apartment manager did set him up with this pretty sweet hotel; it saved him a few days of having to figure out a bed and furniture. Oliver opened his phone and started scrolling mindlessly, letting the exhaustion of the day take him away shortly after.

 

He awoke sometime just before noon, his phone buzzing away.

“Uhm, hello,” he answered, trying to hide the sleep from his voice and failing.

“Yeah, kid, look, no easy way to tell ya, but the apartment’s no longer available. I got some city guy up my ass about-“ he continued on, but Oliver didn’t hear him. That old familiar fear gripped his throat, and he had to fight back tears. “Kid? Hey, you there?”

“O-oh, y-yes,” Oliver replied, his voice cracking, tongue dry, and body numb.

“Great. Now tell your friends you gotta find somewhere else. Corporate will forward you any rent you’ve paid sometime in the next three months.”

The line went dead, and that was it. Oliver just curled up under the blankets and slept until the midafternoon. When he awoke, he felt weak and smelled terrible. He dragged himself to the shower, but ended up lying in the tub, the shower pouring down on him while he sulked. He couldn’t stand to tell the guys that plans had fallen through, that they would need to find a new apartment at the last minute. He just didn’t want to do anything anymore.

Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, he saw the light of his phone turn on. Then again, and again. He managed to stir himself enough to shut off the water, partly dry himself off, and check his phone. It was the group chat; apparently the apartment complex sent an email notifying them of the cancellation of their lease. At least that’s the awkward part of the conversation down.

“Yo, Ollie, you good man?” Kyle texted first. Oliver always hated being called Ollie, his childhood bully used to call him that, and he never really got over her teasing, not really.

“It’s alright dude, we all called our bosses. They’ve got telework set up for us,” Ben followed.

“We should definitely look at somewhere local after we get our deposits back though. Three months is HARSH though,” Thomas added, and the conversation continued from there about finding somewhere later on, including some links to places with availability that far out, but none sooner.

They had gone and figured it out without him, so he just replied with an unenthusiastic “K.” He didn’t want to be stuck in limbo for three months, but he could figure something out, for sure. Things still sucked, but he could see the horizon again. Oliver ended up getting some cheap fast food, then turning in for the night, hopeful tomorrow would be a better day.

He awoke early, hopeful, wanting for some good news, and so he got dressed, hit up the complimentary breakfast, and decided to stop by his office. He wanted to go get a glimpse of his future again. Even if he didn’t start for another two weeks, he was sure he could at least get in and say hi. He punched the address into his GPS, and drove to the far end of the city.

He must have missed it, or made a wrong turn, or typed in the GPS wrong, or… something, because the lot he stopped at was entirely vacant. There were a few warehouses down the street, but nothing resembling an office building of any kind.

Scrambling, Oliver checked everything, made sure the GPS address matched the website, ran out of the car to the street sign, but it all matched. He was in the right place, but there was nothing here.

Oliver frantically pulled up his boss’s contact and called him, but the number was disconnected.

“How did I screw this up?” he asked, on the verge of full blown panic. He took and aced a skills test, did a quick interview and got along great. All the paperwork had been online, something he though marked a modern company, one willing to embrace a fast paced digital world, not… not this. Not a scam.

His legs gave out as he realized he gave them everything. His social, his bank account number, everything someone would need to take his identity and leave him with nothing.

He didn’t cry though, he was too afraid for that. His shaky hands gripped the steering wheel and he sped along. There was an ATM for his bank not far from here; he noted it on the way in as a nice way to grab some cash after payday. “Where, where, where…” he whispered to himself, too afraid to speak any louder. “It has to be… there!” he yanked the wheel to turn in to the ATM, hitting the curb in the process, but making into the parking lot.

Oliver ran up the ATM, fumbling with his wallet and card, and even typed in his pin wrong the first time before calming himself down enough to do it right. The dots swirled on the screen, loading his balance…. $278.48. He had nearly five thousand in there before he left. They must have left just enough so he didn’t notice immediately. He withdrew all that he could, $270 in cash, that’s all he had to his name anymore. He had never opened a credit card, but it wasn’t like it would do any good with his identity stolen. Oliver climbed back into his car and sobbed for hours.

His luck continued to tumble. The wheel of his car that hit the curb now had a dangerous wobble to it, so highway driving was out of the question. The hotel the apartment manager set up for him was cancelled along with the lease, so he moved down to a cheap motel, but even that was burning through his cash too fast. He tried applying to every software firm he could find, but by his calculations by the time he even got his foot in the door for an interview, he would be homeless.

As his situation worsened, he grew desperate. He had to sell his car to get enough money to keep going, and lowered his expectations, applying to fast food and retail stores, but now that he didn’t have reliable transportation, he couldn’t get in there either. And so, here he was, alone and hopeless.

He could have reached out to his friends, or to his parents, but doing so would be admitting defeat, so he just left their messages on read, and hoped for one last chance to turn it around.

Meanwhile, unknown to Oliver, Rose watched, and waited. Compared to her big sisters, she was almost nothing, but she was still a Daughter of Time, an Anomaly given will and purpose. Such small deviations were well within her power, and were all it took to bring him to his lowest. She smiled to herself, almost giddy at the idea of calling him her own. Tomorrow, she would finally get to bring her new baby home.

[DainaGirl]

This has to be the most I've ever written in a single day! Hopefully some of y'all are enjoying it. I'm turning up the heat a bit on this chapter, but none of the changes happen just yet.

Chapter 2

Oliver shook the now empty bag of ramen packs with a sigh. His stomach was urging him to get something eat, but his wallet disagreed with the idea. Having exhausted the last of his cash, and with just one more night paid for in the hotel, he went outside hoping a burger would somehow fall into his lap.

As he walked towards the city center, he considered giving up and calling home. He had tried his best, truly, but maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. His parents would be pissed he sold his car, sure, but it was pretty junky to begin with, he could afford a better one once he gets a job. Surely they would yell at him some, but then one Greyhound ticket later he could be back home, his belly full, and with several valuable life lessons. It wouldn’t be easy, but he would do it, he had no other choice.

“Shit,” he said, tapping the power button on his phone but getting no response. It seems he had forgotten to charge it last night. He sighed and slipped it back into his pocket, resolute that he would call home later. Right now, he just needed to eat.

Soon enough, his feet had carried him into an outdoor mall, full of little places to eat. The air swirled with fresh aromas, buttery pretzels and fried treats, sizzling hotdogs and savory meats. Oliver’s mouth watered at every passing whiff, his mind spinning with an ever-growing craving. He walked down the street lost to hunger, until he accidentally ran headlong into a woman, knocking himself down in the process.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, towering over him, “are you alright? I’m so sorry, I must have gotten distracted.” Her voice was soft, soothing, and took Oliver’s mind off his hunger for just a moment. When she offered her hand, he took it without thinking, and she lifted him graciously up to his feet, then dusted him off while he stood there, still halfway disoriented.

When he came to his senses, he meekly pushed he hands away which were fussing with his hair, trying to tidy up the mess. “I- Thank you ma’am, but I can, uh, do that myself,” he protested, tossing his hair with his hands, wholly unsuccessfully.

“Great job dear! You did great,” she said, patting him on the head.

“Uhm, yeah,” he replied. Oliver hadn’t quite slowed down enough to take the woman in, but the pat alerted him to the fact that she was clearly a whole head taller than him. He was by no means short, but he never got close to that 6’ mark he had hoped for, and now, here he was, staring upwards at this inexplicable woman. “I’m Oliver, uh, nice to meet you?”

“Aww, you do look like a little Oliver, don’t you? I’m Rose,” she beamed, pulling him into an embrace, “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Oliver froze in the embrace, completely lost as to what to do. His head was dangerously close to being rudely placed, so he just closed his eyes and waited for it to end.

“You’re funny too, you know that?” She laughed as she booped his nose, causing him to chuckle some as he realized just how awkward he was being. When he opened his eyes, he saw her staring down at him, then kissing his forehead. “That’s for being so sweet.”

Oliver flushed red, now even further lost than he was. He searched his mind for something, anything sensible to latch onto, and as if kindly waiting its turn, his hunger spoke for him. “You wanna get something to eat?”

As the words left his lips, he panicked, realizing the implication that he would pay. His mind raced looking for a way to backtrack, to get out of this without completely crushing his pride.

“Awwh,” she cooed again, “is my little guy hungry?” She let him out of the embrace and took his hand from his side, and started walking. “I know a great place, just down here.”

He let himself get tugged along by her, trying to get his words together to apologize, when she looked back at him with a wink and said, “Oh, and since it’s my fault for bumping into you, why don’t I pay, is that okay honey, or do you need to be the big strong man and pay for everything?”

He smiled back, and then let his gaze fall to the ground. “Uhm, t-thank you… Rose,” he let out shyly.

She led him all the way into the restaurant, and to a small booth towards the back, leading him into the seat with her hand before sitting down herself.

“Now, Oliver, have you been here before?” she asked, then continued without listening for an answer “You probably haven’t, it’s pretty new, and not to make too much of it, but it doesn’t really seem your kinda place.”

He looked around, and realized how out of place he was, wearing his dirty shorts and t-shirt in the middle of a mood-lit, modern restaurant. Even Rose was wearing an elegant dress, patterned in crisscrossing black and white. Oliver couldn’t quite remember if she was always dressed that nicely, but then again the last few minutes had been a bit of a whirlwind. He tried to focus in, but in his half-starved state, he wasn’t having much success.

“And for the gentleman?” Oliver snapped out of his reverie to realize the waitress was there, taking their order.

“Uh…” Oliver panicked, looking for a menu, only to realize that Rose was already holding hers up so the waitress could see, pointing to an item.

“Oh, and a juice,” she said, before turning her attention back to Oliver. “You’ll love their juices here; they’re fresh squeezed from a local grower. They’re a-ma-zing.”

Oliver just nodded, still struggling to get his bearings. He tried to focus on her, hopefully that would ground him. Looking her over, he sought out details. Who was this woman?

She looked back at him with deep and soulful green eyes. Her face was soft and kind, warm, and finely expressive, so that every movement it made showed how much she cared. It was framed by perfectly kept, strawberry blonde locks, which trailed down to her lower back. Her every curve and feature spoke of a gentle and nurturing nature, yet she was able to lift him off the ground with absolute ease.

“So, Oliver, tell me about yourself?” She asked, once again immediately following up, “What’s a boy like you doing wandering the mall in the middle of a workday? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

He blushed briefly, before finding strength to brag, “Actually I just graduated with my Bachelor’s in Computer Science, I’m…” he paused, unsure how to explain his failings.

He must have paused too long, as she broke in. “Hard market to break into, so I hear. Don’t you worry sweetheart, my friend in the industry said that it’s always seasonal. They get a lot of hires right as a class graduates, then six months later they get another batch. So that’s” she held up her fingers, tapping them one through five as she kept eye contact with him, “This many! Do you know how many that is?”

Oliver stared blankly, not wanting to be the least bit rude to someone who’s about to provide him a meal, so he carefully answered, “Five months?”

Her face beamed as she claps her hands, “Good job! Yes, just five itty bitty months and you’ll be able to get a job, easy peasy! How’s that sound sweetheart?”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized how foolish he was to think just holding out a few extra weeks would solve his problems. Five whole months? He should have gone home immediately after things went south, should have given in and…

“There there,” she spoke softly, rubbing the tears with a handkerchief. “It’ll all be okay, I promise. Getting a big, adult job is hard, especially when you’re so young. That’s nothing to worry about.”

Between sniffles he replied, “But you don’t understand. I… I…”

She broke his panicked stuttering with a gentle hand upon his. “It’s okay, just leeet it out. Let Miss Rose take care of you, okay?”

He nodded, the small sobs turning into big tears as the dams broke. Feeling her hand shift, then the booth shift as she joined him, he collapsed his head onto her chest, sobbing inconsolably. Rose petted his hair, a proud smile breaking out across her face for just a moment. Occasionally she would wipe away some of the tears, but not all of them, letting him feel helpless and cared for in her arms.

By the time he stopped, the food had arrived. He looked up to her, as she wiped his running nose with a napkin and smiled at him, and he smiled back. When he tried to lift his head from her chest, she held him close and he relented, enjoying the warmth and comfort.

“Open up, sweetie,” she whispered, using her free hand to bring the juice to his mouth, letting him take sips through the straw. It was every bit as sweet and delicious as she promised, and he happily drank it all. “That’s a good boy,” she said while rubbing his back, and letting him sit up.

Before him were two plates, one with an elegant salad, the other a plate of chicken nuggets. Oliver looked carefully up to Rose, a hunger in his eyes that wouldn’t be sated with just some leafy greens.

“Oh, don’t you worry baby,” she said with a smile, taking her fork and knife and cutting up one of the chicken nuggets, dipping it, and carrying it to his mouth, “Open up!”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the piece of nugget went right in instead. As he chewed, she ate a bit of her salad, and then continued the process until they were both done and full. She finally turned to him with a smile, cleaned off his mouth with a napkin, and asked, “So, what got you all worked up back there?”

Looking up at her he summoned what strength he had, bolstered by his full belly, and told her the truth. “I lost my job and my apartment, and now I’m broke. I can only barely afford a single night more in my motel and after that… I’m homeless.” Despite his intentions otherwise, he felt tears begin to well up again, but he felt her hands grasp his strongly. He looked up into her eyes and they were streaming with tears, her mouth an almost unnatural smile.

“Stay with me!” she shouted, “I have a spare room in my house, and I would love it more than anything for you to stay with me. It’s yours, as long as you need. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“… Yes, please!”

[DainaGirl]

It's time for the changes to finally start happening! This also ended up the longest chapter yet! Thanks to everyone who left a like. It really helps someone who's just getting started like me. And thanks for anyone who, like me, is a perpetual lurker and just reads!

Chapter 3

“Welcome home!” Rose cheered, swinging open the door to Oliver’s new room. It was massive, nearly a whole flat unto itself. He stood in place, staring slack jawed. “Go on now,” Rose said, patting him on the butt, “take a look around.”

Stumbling into the room and onto the soft carpet, he began to take it all in. The walls were a sky blue, interrupted by two sets of white drapes, almost like clouds. The first set, along the right wall, adorned a modest window with a view towards the backyard where he could see a lovely garden growing all manner of flower. The second set of drapes was around a massive bay window, the bench of which was large enough he imagined himself taking a sun nap upon it. Two small lights hung from the ceiling, but the room received enough natural light he didn’t imagine he would use them often. The left wall, meanwhile, had a quaint white door, opening up to an en suite bathroom, and even had a large soaking tub inside.

Rose, for her part, took the boy’s bags away to the laundry room and started to wash them. She knew he wouldn’t use these rags for long, but it was fun enough to play along for now. Besides, he did still look cute in them. “Far cuter were he to be in a onesie or a little dress,” she dreamed to herself, barely stifling a squeal before bringing herself back on mission. All just a matter of time.

Meanwhile, Oliver continued to explore, flopping on the queen sized bed that was nestled in the corner between the two windows. He quickly spun himself up in the navy blue comforter, feeling safe and warm as he surveyed the rest of his new kingdom. From here he had a clear view of the TV, it being mounted to the wall above a dresser. He found the remote on the bedstand, and flicked it on. There was a desk on the far end of the room where he would later set up his computer, and next to that a nice vacant corner with a rug that he couldn’t quite think of a use for yet, but all that was pushed to the back of his mind as the TV sprung to life, full of all the streaming options he could only dream of affording.

Rose found him just like that, some time later. He had settled on some action-packed serial she had never heard of, but Rose only really concerned herself with the latest and greatest of cartoons, which she would put to good use soon enough. For now, she carefully avoided blocking the television while putting his clothes away into the dresser below it. She paused a few times, staring and smiling at Oliver, but he didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in his episode. Rose didn’t mind though, she just loved staring at her little one, all snuggled up in his blanket, not a care in the world.

Eventually his episode ended, and Oliver broke from his distracted focus, and noticed Rose, sitting cross legged on the floor and just staring at him, her head supported on her palm, every bit as lost in him as he was in his show just a moment before. “Oh, uhm, hi Rose,” he stammered shyly.

Rose’s smile widened as she stood up and ventured over to embrace him. “Hi yourself, snuggle bug. I hope you’re comfy here,” she spoke softly, her hands petting him through the comforter.

He nodded as she did, trying to move his head so he could see the screen, which Rose took as an invitation to join him on the bed, shifting her embrace to a loose one from behind. It wasn’t an altogether uncomfortable position for Oliver to be in, but it was an unfamiliar one, which was causing his grip on the remote to stiffen with uncertainty. Should he pick something she would enjoy, or ask her what to watch, or maybe he should just continue his binge? His brain got stuck, looping through those options, until he felt her hand take the remote from him. He felt her warmth press against him as she did, and he blushed, letting the remote go without a second thought.

“How about something a bit more appropriate,” she mused, flipping through menus until she found the Kids section. “This was always my favorite for a sleepy afternoon.” He looked up, having missed the name of the show, but it featured softly drawn characters with an overly pastel color palette. There were no words to the show, just noises, but all of that was secondary to the soft, repetitive music that permeated the show. Oliver felt like protesting, but felt the weight of the day pressing down on him, suddenly recalling the nearly sleepless night he had, where something he couldn’t name kept waking him every time he got close to restful sleep. It was a wonder he didn’t feel the exhaustion until this very moment, but feel it he did, and so without any protest, he fell asleep in her arms.

When he awoke, the room was dim, and the faint smells of cooking caught his nose. Peering out the window, it wasn’t night yet, but his side of the house was in shadow as the day neared its end. Oliver yawned deeply, then rolled himself out of bed to go check on Rose and see what’s for dinner. He walked out of his room and into the kitchen, dragging his favorite teddy bear behind him. He walked in and waved to her, still too sleepy to speak unprompted, and drank in the vast array of aromas from her cooking.

“Well good morning sleepy butt, and who do we have here?” she said, turning slightly but keeping her attention on the sizzling pan in front of her.

Oliver swung the large stuffed bear in front of him and held it with both arms across his chest. It was naked other than a blue ribbon tied in a bow around its neck, and large enough to go from his chest to his knees. The fur was well loved and rubbed rough in a few places, but thanks to a small set of stitches on the back of its neck, it remained well stuffed. “Uhm… this is Captain Cuddles,” he spoke into the back of the bear’s head shyly, “he keeps me safe.”

“Well thank you very much for keeping Oliver safe, Mr…” she said, intentionally trailing off.

“His name,” Oliver said, lifting his head as to speak more clearly, “is Captain Cuddles.”

“Oh, of course dear,” she said, pulling the pan off the stove, “my apologies. Nice to meet you Captain Cuddles.” Rose knelt down to shake the paw of the bear, then kissed each of them of the forehead. “Oliver, can you and your friend go wash your hands? Dinner will be ready soon.”

He nodded, walking back to his room and flicking on the light. As he walked to the bathroom, he moved his bear’s arm to wave at the other teddy bear resting in the corner. He knew it was odd for an adult to have even one stuffed animal, but he saw all of his bears as good luck charms, and the very thought of being without them was met with a creeping anxiety. Squeezing Captain Cuddles tighter, the anxiety faded, along with all those awful memories.

Instead, he focused on the task at hand, and smiled at himself and Captain Cuddles in the bathroom mirror. He was wearing his favorite pajamas, a long, pale blue top with a brown bear printed on the breast pocket, and darker blue pants covered in little bears. The top even had a hood on it that gave him little teddy bear ears. Maybe he had overdone it on the bear motif, he often thought to himself, but once again, that dark cloud of his past pushed up and he hugged the doubts right out of his mind, pulling up the hood for added safety.

By the time it passed, Rose was calling him for dinner, so he hurried off to the kitchen. “Well aren’t you a cute pair?” she asked, looking at the boy with his bear hood, clutching Captain Cuddles. “Come now; get your butt in a chair, dinner’s ready!”

Oliver obeyed, pulling up a second chair next to his and sliding Captain Cuddles into it, making sure he could hold his paw as needed. Rose brought two sizzling plates of grilled chicken, seasoned with herbs, garnished with sundried tomatoes and spinach, all in a garlicy cream sauce, and paired it with a white wine, pouring them both a generous glass. Oliver, for his part, sat and smiled at Rose, and waited for her to sit before picking up his fork.

“It’s Tuscan Chicken, dear. I wanted to cook something special to celebrate, and to remind you of the refined future you have waiting for you,” she said with a grand voice.

“T-thank you,” Oliver said before taking a deep breath and trying to think confidently of his future, “It will be!”

With that, he took his fork and carved out a big chunk of chicken and raised it up to his mouth, ready to embrace the refined meal, as Rose put it. Taking the bite, he chewed, and he chewed, and he chewed. It wasn’t that the chicken was overdone; it was more like his mouth was rejecting the flavor of it. There was nothing sweet here, no pop like his chicken nuggets had. Try as he might, his mouth just didn’t produce the saliva to help break down such a bite of chicken, and so he just kept chewing. He tried to wash it down with a sip of wine, but the dry beverage offered no comfort, and just led to him pulling an awful face. Before he realized it, Rose was at his side, a napkin in her hand in front of his mouth.

“You don’t have to dear, come on, spit it out,” she said with feigned disappointment, and Oliver obeyed. “It’s okay sweetie, you did your best. I’m proud of you.”

Oliver looked up to see her smiling softly, her hand gently patting his head. Instinctively, Oliver pulled Captain Cuddles onto his lap and sat there for a while, letting Rose comfort him, even letting his head rest upon her.

“Why don’t we find you something a bit easier to swallow, eh?” she said with a laugh, wandering off to the kitchen. “Oooh, I forgot we had your leftover chicken nuggies from lunch.” With that, Oliver heard the microwave beep, and a few moments later steamy, beautiful golden nuggets appeared in front of him, drizzled in honey mustard. Rose took his old plate to the sink, along with his utensils.

Oliver stared at the nuggets, nearly drooling. “Go ahead honey, I’ll be a minute,” she said, interrupting him as he was halfway to realizing he didn’t have a fork anymore, and so he just dug in. Every bite was its own symphony of sweet, crunchy chicken. By the time Rose was back, he had cleaned his plate, and brought Captain Cuddles back into a hug.

“Sweetheart…” Rose said with a sigh. “You went and made Beary Bear a mess!”

Oliver watched as she pulled Captain Cuddles from his grasp, seeing the sauce and crumbs covering the bear from where he held him. She hurried off to the laundry room, and he moved to chase her, but froze in fear before he could stand up. He tumbled to the floor, curling up as memories overwhelmed him.

They were only fragments, moments in time. A birthday where he first got Captain Cuddles, all his friends were cheering. A sleepover where he left the bear behind, all his friends were laughing at him. A drive home where his parents brought the bear, they were so happy. A bike ride where he left it all behind, falling and broken bones.

The memories grew darker and more fragmented, until the day he swore to never let Captain Cuddles leave his side. He could remember that decision clearly, it echoed in his mind like an oath sworn upon his life. All would be well as long as he had Captain Cuddles. But he didn’t right now, and all the bad in the world would soon follow, he knew it. He curled up tighter and sobbed until he had no more strength. It was impossible to know how long he lay there, but it felt to him like forever, until suddenly, all was right.

“Sorry about that, just had to brush him off,” Rose said, slipping the bear back into his hands, and slipping Oliver out of his panic. “What are you doing down there, anyway? Did you drop one of your nuggies?” Rose chuckled softly to herself, and inwardly wept. She hated the idea of him crying, but she knew it was for the best. He needed to be her baby, it was only right.

Oliver shook as he got himself up, the bear sopping up his tears. “No, it’s… it’s nothing,” he said, his voice choking on every sound.

“Here, let me clean up, honey. You look like you could use some rest. Would that be good?” She asked, lifting his chin from the bear. Oliver just nodded weakly and shuffled off to bed. There he pulled back his baby blue comforter, and adjusted his stuffies so he was snuggled on every side, and fell hard asleep.

The moment she heard the first snore, Rose let herself cry, and all of the stern, mature elements of the kitchen softened. The wine became juice, the seasonings became sauces, and several jars of soft cookies formed where fresh produce was just moments before. She wanted nothing more than to love Oliver, to hold him and care for him, to change him day after day until the sun burned out. For an endless being such as herself, this waiting was agonizing. To waste any time putting up airs like he’s going to be anything but her sweet, innocent, helpless baby was just awful.

Enough with the games. It was reckless to move so fast, but she was a Daughter of Time, and he was just a baby. No more waiting, no more playing coy. She had already waited too long. No. More. That baby was going to wake up wet; there was no doubt in her mind. With newfound resolve, she stepped back into his past, and got to work.

[BabySiras]

Fascinating. I enjoy it so far, and can't wait to see what comes next

[DainaGirl]

23 hours ago, BabySiras said:

Fascinating. I enjoy it so far, and can't wait to see what comes next

I'm so glad you're finding it so interesting! I've been really enjoying writing it myself. Thank you for reading and commenting. I know it seems silly, but actually getting positive feedback feels super awesome!

[DainaGirl]

So, this is where it gets fun. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

This far back, Rose had to be careful, she knew that. Peering from just outside of the normal flow of time, she scanned along Oliver’s life for the right moments of vulnerability. The bear had been a test run, something she slipped into his life for happy moments, and slipped out for tragedies. She hadn’t altered anything major yet, not exactly, more so she just wove the bear into the existing fabric of his life.

She couldn’t be so passive this time, not unless she wanted to wait and wait and wait, and despite every warning to follow that path, every time she slowed her traversal of his timeline she saw her baby again and nearly lost herself entirely. Just some careful, deliberate, direct interference, that’s all she had to do. That’ll be safe enough without being torture to her. And so, scanning along his life for nearly twenty years, she came upon her moment, and reached out.

Time, in its mercy, hid the precise details from Oliver of why he had taken so long to be potty trained, but Rose would always remember her invisible hand holding the bathroom door shut as the child had accident after accident. His parents, at first frustrated, would be comforted by a strange new neighbor, one who was in their lives just long enough to share that it had to be a rebellious phase, and that he would grow out of it. They would ignore his stories of the faulty doorknob, as his training failed time and time again. He wouldn’t remember the repeated trips to the doctor and the tests they ran, how the Doctor mentioned there could be other causes, and that some children just develop differently.

He would, however, remember the fight he had with his parents that broke his will on the matter. He had rushed with urgency to the bathroom once again, only to find the door sealed, and in his urgency and anger, beat on it with all his might. His wild flails did nothing to the door itself, but did knock a flowerpot off the table behind him. It smashed loudly as it hit the carpet, the dirt scattered around half the hallway.

His parents rushed over to check on him, and he stammered out about how he was trying to open the door. He remembered the look on his father’s face, and the stern tone with which he asked the young Oliver to prove the door was truly stuck. Tears in his eyes, Oliver tried the handle one last time, and it opened effortlessly, Rose smiling on the other side as she vanished into the Timestream. She left him to be scolded for lying as his father forced him to admit to a truth he couldn’t comprehend, but had no choice but to accept. That he didn’t want to use the potty, that he had been lying to them because he wasn’t ready. A thought which haunted him into his adulthood, into Rose’s house, where she returned to him.

Rose returned just as dawn broke. She didn’t have to let time pass, but she knew that the more time she gave between her departure and return, the more time Oliver’s timeline would have to adjust to the changes, and the more accepting he would be. She could hear the soft sounds of the television in Oliver’s room, and crept over to spy on him through the cracked door.

There he was, all snuggled up in bed, dressed in a full body onesie resembling a teddy bear, complete with a hood with the cutest little ears. Rose must have let out too loud of happy sigh and given herself away, causing Oliver to suddenly pause the cartoons. “Good Morning Rose!” he called out, hugging Captain Cuddles to his chest.

“Well good morning cutie pie,” Rose said with a song in her heart, letting the door open wide, “how did my little guy sleep?” She advanced on him with a skip, and began to sit down next to him, the plastic protective layer on the bed crinkling as she did. With a wide smile, she began petting the soft, light brown fabric on his arm. “I love how cute your onesie is, by the way!”

Oliver’s eyes shot away from her as he blushed intensely. “It’s, uhm, a kigurumi. They’re uh… I mean… It’s from Japan.”  Oliver tried to pull away, but Rose just took that as an opening to scoot closer to him and wrap her arm around his shoulder.

“Oh is it? Then I guess it’s not cute, it’s…” Rose paused for a moment, feigning ignorance, “Kawaii, right?”

Oliver nodded wordlessly, unable to create any distance between them, choosing instead to bury his head in Captain Cuddles, pulling the hood down at the same time, trying to just disappear.

Rose leaned in and whispered “It’s alright; I’m not here to judge. But…” she paused, savoring the next words, “if you need a change, just let me know.”

The words struck a cold clarity in Oliver, suddenly breaking the nervousness. “I… what?” he asked, looking up at Rose. “I don’t need a change, Rose.” His words were flat, serious, and mature. “I know you saw my incontinence supplies when I moved in, but I’m an adult, Rose. I took care of that as soon as I woke up, and am in a clean, daytime pair.” He sat up all the way and looks at her, letting the hood fall back. “I’m really thankful for the place to stay, I just, think we need some boundaries here, okay?”

All Rose felt was pain, hurt, and loss. She had a purpose, a need placed at the very core of her being, and it felt like Oliver had ripped her very heart out with his words. She pulled back from him and made her way out of his room. “I’ll have breakfast ready in a bit,” was all she could say as she left.

He sat there, on the edge of his bed, torn between just continuing to watch his cartoons, and going to her and trying to talk things out. He had such high hopes for staying here with Rose, but as he turned the morning over in his mind, he considered packing his things and trying his luck elsewhere. His parents still saw him as just a big kid too, but at least they had boundaries. But then again, he hadn’t actually set any ground rules with Rose; maybe he should just do that. Clear the air over breakfast, and make this thing work. He sure had spent a lot more time in worse situations trying to work them out; he owed it to himself to just try.

“Ollie, breakfast is ready!”

Why did she have to use that name? Oliver was already feeling exposed and uncomfortable, so why, right then, had she decided to call him Ollie. Anger surged him to his feet and pushed him out his door, a white knuckled fist gripping Captain Cuddles’ paw.

“I hate that name,” he shouted at her, “ever since--” Oliver froze in place, his whole body going numb in an instant, flickering needles all over his skin. Rose flickered from his view as dissonant waves of hot and cold washed up and down his insides. He wanted to collapse to his knees, to curl up on the floor and cry, but his body stood immobile, transfixed, as if pierced like a collected butterfly against time itself. He couldn’t move, but Rose seemed to erratically shift from point to point, with no motion between. The moment felt like a lifetime, and then passed as suddenly as it began.

Rose, unphased, continued plating up a hot breakfast for herself and Oliver. “Ever since what dear?” she asked, looking at him with care in her eyes.

Oliver caught his breath, then pulled his hair from in front of his eyes and carefully sat down at the table, holding his bear tight. He felt his pullups squish warmly as he sat down, realizing he must have wet himself during... whatever that was.

“Ever since what dear?” Rose repeated, placing Ollie’s breakfast in front of him.

“I… uh… sorry. Could you repeat the question?” he stammered, looking up at Rose, trying to get his bearings.

“You were just telling me about how you grew to love being called Ollie,” she beamed, sitting down across from him, smiling widely.

“Oh, yes…” he started to speak, softly, playing with his shoulder length dusty blonde hair. He recalled fondly how his first crush had called him that while softly running her fingers through his hair. She had been so kind to him for so long, even after she learned about his secret. She told him that maybe Oliver should have learned to use the potty, but that her Ollie was just fine the way he was. He felt warm in his heart remembering that, and equally warm in the seat of his pants as his daytime pullups leaked.

“Oh no, Ollie…” Rose said with a frightening smile, “I told you to let me know if you needed a change.”

[DainaGirl]

Sorry for the delay! I had a root canal and then a bunch of busy life stuff, but I'm back and feeling better ?! Anyway, long chapter here, getting into the meat of the forced regression / sissification stuff now, so... if that's what you've been waiting for, this is probably the chapter for you. Anyway, thank you all for reading, and, uhm, if you wanna throw a like, it would be much appreciated! (Or feedback, I'm still new to this, and all. As you can tell by my rambling intros...) Anyway, here's Chapter 5!

Chapter 5

Ollie let his eyes fall to the floor as he slowly shook his head. “I… I…” he stammered, the gears of his mind coming to a complete stop as he was unable to reconcile what was going on. He hadn’t had more than a tiny trickle during the day in years, but to leak, and so quickly? He wanted to just curl up and disappear, just at the thought of it. And, even still, at that moment it felt like there was some distant part of his mind screaming out that this was all wrong, pissed off at… something. He couldn’t make sense of it, it was just garbled rage.

Pulling him out of his reverie, Rose took his hand and gently lifted him from the chair, leaving behind puddles on the chair and floor with a trail of little drips and drops following him as she led him to his room. He paused just before the door when she did, as she turned around to unzip his pajamas. Rose helped him out of it, one arm and then one leg at a time, then dropping the ruined pajamas in a plastic lined hamper, and leaving him standing there in his overflown pullup.

Ollie reached out to Rose to take Captain Cuddles from her to hide himself, but she held tight onto the bear. “I’m sorry Ollie, we need to get you changed first, okay?” she consoled him, patting his head before taking his outstretched arm and leading him once again into his room.

As she opened the door, he took comfort from the soft lavender glow coming from inside. The walls had little animal decorations across them. About half were bears, but there were sheep and horses and dolphins too, interspaced with rainbow ribbons of color. It all felt so right, but also so…

“Look Ollie,” Rose said, taking his attention and focusing it on the block letters that spelled out O-L-L-I-E over the padded table set up in the corner of the room. “That’s you!” she said, laughing as she lifted him up onto the table.

Ollie smiled as he saw it, grounding his drifting thoughts on the fact that this was his room. Yes, everything in his mind lined up on that, that this room was his, at least for the time being. Rose had been kind enough to let him stay here after… something bad. Either way, he was here, and let himself exhale and get comfortable as Rose had him lay back on the table.

“Such a good boy,” she said contentedly, pulling off his pullup and handing him his bear before his nerves got the better of him. As Ollie hid behind Captain Cuddles, he felt a cold wet wipe down there. He stayed as still as he could while he felt wipe after wipe go over every inch of him that his leak had touched, wincing the whole time.

“All clean princess,” Rose said, pushing the bear’s head down just enough to see Ollie’s eyes. He pulled a nasty face at being called ‘princess’, but didn’t protest any further than that. She left him there, naked, as she stood up and pulled him into a seated position on the changing table.

“Now sweetheart,” Rose spoke, looking down at Ollie, “I know you said that you’re usually fine with just pullups, but I think you may have been fibbing with that.”

Ollie opened his mouth to protest, but the truth was he wasn’t too sure himself. He remembered wearing pullups for years without issue, but he also remembered other things he couldn’t quite name. And then there was his crush. Sarah. That was her name, the thought gaining sudden clarity in his mind. He remembered how Sarah had been so kind to him after having accidents in school. Straining his mind, Ollie tried to recall if that was before or after he started wearing pullups full time, but all he could remember was the shame of wetting his pants, and the comfort of Sarah who let him change into her spare skirt and panties. How they felt… nice.

He grew warm, flushed, as those memories flooded over his previous question, and he just looked up at Rose and nodded meekly. “Yes ma’am.”

“Well that’s okay pumpkin, but I do think we should try something with a bit more protection, even if just for a few days,” Rose lied. A few days, the rest of all time, close enough. “How’s that sound?”

“Y-yes ma’am,” he replied. He did deserve it, after all, he was a guest, and made such a mess in Miss Rose’s house. He felt awful about it already, and couldn’t imagine causing her any more trouble.

“Good!” she cheered, and then knelt down to the cubbies below where Ollie was sitting. “Do you feel more like Dinos or Butterflies?”

Ollie peered down as she pulled out two large disposable diapers. The first was decorated all over with dinosaur shapes in bright primary colors. Red T-Rex. Yellow Pterodactyl. Blue Triceratops. Green Stegosaurus. As he looked each over, Rose softly whispered the names of each dinosaur to him.

Ollie’s toes curled and pulse quickened when he realized what Rose was doing, swatting the dinosaur diaper away out of embarrassment, but Rose just smiled and held it back up. It was like she didn’t think he knew his animals or his colors! Ollie found that voice inside him again, the one that was formlessly angry earlier, and followed it. Taking the dinosaur diaper from her hand, he threw it as hard as he could across the room, causing it to land softly, halfway to the door with a crinkle.

He seethed with rage, his reddened face staring daggers at Rose, daring her to demean him again. Ollie couldn’t place how or why, but everything in his body screamed that something was in fact very wrong here. As Rose backed away slightly, he took inventory, trying to find the root of his problems.

Captain Cuddles was right here with him, as lovable and reliable as ever. Ollie’s soft, long hair was clean, well brushed, as he always kept it. He was clean, out of that overflowed pullup, so that checked out too. It all seemed right enough. He could retrace his steps to find how he got here in every way he could think of, so none of that could be the problem. But something was still so so very wrong.

Continuing to seethe, he turned his attention outward. His attention immediately latched onto Rose again, and he was met with a new surge of anger, fear, and panic. Was it Rose? The sweet, kind woman who offered him a room when he had nowhere else to go?

Was that really all she was? Something was off, wrong, about her, he just couldn’t see it logically. Everything made sense, but felt nauseating. Whatever she was, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t human.

He grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white as they clenched fur of Captain Cuddles. “G-get away!” he spoke, his voice cracking as his throat dried up. “I,” he yelled, the formless screams finally coming into focus, “know t-that y-y-you…” He huffed, feeling an ever increasing pressure in his mind, unknowingly fighting against his hastily assembled new timeline. “D-d-d… did something t-to me!”

Oliver wanted to vomit and weep, but he fought to get every last sound out. “G-gi-give,” he sputtered, tongue glued to his teeth, every muscle tensed as he pushed against reality’s raging river, “m-me my l-l-l-l-life b-back”, He choked, the flame in his eyes flickering out, tears streaming from bloodshot eyes. With rage’s last ember he stared at the blur in his vision he knew to be the thing called Rose, and whispered, “you bi-i-ihhh…”

A long moment hung in the air, silence filling the space between them. Ollie’s muscles tremored then loosened, as a deep breath slipped from his lips. His eyes drifted around the room, never finding purchase on anything, just drifting. The teddy bear slipped from his hands, softly thudding to the floor, leaving his naked form listing side to side on the changing table.

Rose stepped forward, one hand catching him at the shoulder, and the other, still holding the butterfly diaper, gently pressing against his chest until he was lying down. She then effortlessly lifted his legs and rotated him so he was lying flat on the changing mat. He moved weakly and aimlessly, looking to Rose so lost and helpless, she couldn’t help herself. “Butterflies it is then.”

She took her time, the slowly squirming thing in front of her wasn’t going to put up much of a fight, and it was so worth savoring the first time. Reaching across his chest, she pulled a soft pink strap over his body and secured it, holding his chest down and preventing the worst of his aimless motions from interfering.

Rose carefully unfolded the square of crinkly plastic that had been wasted in her hands for too long. It was trimmed in a lilac color, dotted with darker purple hued butterfly shapes. Along its center it was all white, with faint outlines of butterfly wings. It almost made her sad to think that Ollie would never get to see them, knowing he would surely be wet by the time he came to, wiping away these cute wetness indicators.

With a loud crinkle, Rose fluffed up the padding of the diaper, drawing the unfocused gaze of her charge. “Don’t you worry about a thing princess, mommy will have you aaaaall taken care of,” she spoke confidently, no trace of concern in her voice from Ollie’s previous outburst.

What followed was a routine for some, but Rose took joy in every step. Lift the legs. Slide the diaper. Lower the tush. Powder. More powder. Pull it up. Admire the serene flowers and beautiful butterflies drawn onto the landing strip. Run your fingers along the leak guards. Tape. Tape. Adjust. Tape. Tape. Pat.

And just like that, she could truly see her little baby for the first time. Releasing him from the strap, Rose carried him to a rocking chair that formed at her will near the bay window, and held him to her chest for hours.

She was unconcerned with how broken his mind appeared to be, how his conscious thoughts seemed to have receded entirely, leaving only enough cognition for fidgeting and grabbing, just like a little baby. One day, soon enough, this would be the real him, the only thoughts in his head about his Mommy. She stroked his hair and held his head to her chest, her heart full.

 

Oliver returned to himself sometime later, the room dim in the afternoon sun. Everything felt so numb and distant. His whole body felt heavy and sluggish, pinned under a thick comforter. To every little motion he made, the bed responded with thunderous crinkling, the thick plastic lining making itself known with ever slight shift.

“Uhngggh…” he groaned, lifting his head from the soft pillows, only to flop it back down again, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, and seeing a pastel unicorn staring back at him. He blinked slowly. As his eyes opened again, they made out the edges of the poster, then scanned the ceiling to see others of rainbows and butterflies and princess castles. “Shit,” he muttered, a chill running down his spine.

With considerable effort he managed to snake one of his hands out of the covers, doing his best not to let the bed’s plastic cries get to him. The fingers moved in broad, weak patterns, barely within his control. Trying to making a fist yielded poor results, barely getting past making grabby hands, but at least it was under his control, inexact as it may be.

In attempting to free his other arm, he caught a glimpse downward of the tops of what he was wearing, and barely avoided a full panic attack. His shirt was a pale pink, the shoulders puffing out into short little sleeves. The edges of a design were visible on the chest of it, but all he could make out was glitter, rainbow colors, and a horn. Most horrifying of all was what covered the design on the chest, the top of a pair of pastel purple overalls. His hand pawed at the bright pink daisy buttons that clasped it over his shoulders, but they held fast as numb fingers fumbled over them. Even with the other hand freed and joining, he was still trapped.

He gave one last tug at the straps when he felt the bottom of the overalls pull something up against him. Oliver froze in terror as the cold damp thing squished against his crotch. And as he noticed it grow warm suddenly, he screamed.

“Sounds like my baby woke up from her nap!”

[diaper24/7]

nice story and is this the end?

[DainaGirl]

It is not the end! Life just comes at ya quick sometimes. But I'm back, babies! I'm going to push to get this story finished by the rapidly approaching deadline of August 7th, so we'll see if I can give it a satisfying conclusion by then or not. Hopefully one to two more chapters will leave us in a good spot though.

Oh, quick thing. It's always kinda up for debate with sissy-type stories, but I wanted to let anyone know who's reading this that there is going to be a difference between the pronouns used by Rose and by Oliver for our hero. If that troubles you, I do apologize, but the two characters see Oliver very differently at this point in time, so they're referring to he/her as they see them. As a reminder, the one refusing to acknowledge the other's chosen pronouns is an eldritch entity, and probably an evil one for most that come across her. So, ya know, be more respectful to each other than that.

Lastly, love y'all who comment, like, or even just silently read. You make this fun.

Chapter 6

Oliver clasped his hands over his mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it was too late. Panic overtook him as he heard Rose’s muffled voice calling for him from across the house. Weak, ineffectual hands beat against the covers that held him down, trying to crawl out of his prison before it was all too late. But it already was. Part of him knew that, the part that heard the thing named Rose grow closer and closer while he flailed like a tantruming child against the covers. It was that part of him that let out a single tear of resignation when he heard the handle turn and the door begin to open, and wiped it away before his captor was given the satisfaction of seeing it.

“Good morning Olivia, how was my princess’s nap?”

Oliver heard the words, dripping with an ugly sweetness, knowing the tone would be a mocking one if Rose weren’t so possessed by whatever brand of madness drove the creature. No, the thing before him believed every word, and it shook Oliver to his core.

“Aww, someone still sleepy?”

It spoke again, crossing the room towards him. It looked like what Oliver would assume a machine would paint if you asked it to make a “Mother”. Far from the imposing thing of beauty he met just days before, Rose was soft and warm, her plain face smiling softly, her wide eyes doting on every inch of him. She was kindly, but not carefully dressed, as if she had just enough time to don her floral dress, but her priorities lay elsewhere. It, not her. Oliver had to remind himself that the thing before him was no mother, but a monster that had… done something to him. He grasped at the straws in his mind, only to have them dissolve at the faintest touch. His mind had nearly collapsed from trying to grapple with what Rose was, and the damage from that discoherence was still hanging in the corners of his mind, shrouded in shade in the hopes that it could hide from her.

Rose sat on the side of the bed, and brushed Oliver’s hair out of his face. “I bet you slept well though, didn’t you?” She smiled again, caressing Oliver’s cheek, her hand effortlessly chasing his face as he tried to pull away. “After all, we had quite the eventful week, didn’t we? I had such fun with my baby girl, I wasn’t sure you, the real you, would ever wake back up.”

Oliver stopped squirming, his blood freezing in his chest. “Wha da ya men?” he asked, his tongue’s refusal of his commands not even breaking into the top five of his problems, “Ah week?”

“Oh yes, baby girl, we had such fun!” Rose reached down suddenly, lifting Oliver out of the bed and twirling him in the air. He clenched his eyes shut, but his fear quickly gave way to a bright energy inside him. It bubbled up second over second until it burst out of him in an uncontrolled giggle. Oliver tried to push it down, but Rose shifted from swings to tosses, and his body’s sheer enjoyment of the sensation betrayed his bitter will. Somehow, he loved this, and was almost sad when Rose stopped and sat down in the rocker, lowering Oliver onto her lap with a soft squish.

“Don’t worry babygirl, we’ll get you all changie-wangied in a minute, but first, I want to show you some pictures of our week together, okay?” She punctuated the sentence with a kiss on Oliver’s cheek as he meekly nodded. He knew he had to get out still, but every sensation in his body told him this was good and well, that he was happy and content here in Rose’s lap. All except for the damp sensation around his waist, but even that felt like a minor inconvenience next to the warm comfort he felt being held so close. So when Rose lifted the screen in front of him, Oliver stared straight into it, his defenses having been washed away by his body’s chemical assurance that all was right in the world.

Oliver tilted his head as he studied the first picture. It was of someone sleeping, swallowed in blankets. They were facing away from the camera, so all he could see was her strawberry blonde hair, pulled up into messy pigtails. Swipe. The same girl, but from closer and a bit higher up. Oliver could see the side of her face. Cutely dimpled, with freckles accenting her cheeks, she had something hanging out of her mouth as she slept. There was an arm, Rose’s, on the lower right side of the screen. Swipe. The shot was the same, but the angle kicked off several degrees. The girl looked like she was screaming… no, laughing? Rose’s hand digging into the blankets around her midsection. The girl had twisted from the tickling, her face blurry from motion. With the covers disturbed Oliver noticed she was bare chested, but entirely flat. His eyes grew transfixed on a birthmark she bore on her shoulder.

“Do you know who that is, baby girl?” Rose teased. Oliver already knew, Rose had told him, after all, but he had rejected it by instinct. He didn’t remember this picture being taken, but the truth caught in his chest, unwilling to budge any further, hoping that denying the impossible reality he found himself in would somehow free him from it.

Sensing his hesitation, Rose tapped a button on the phone, and the image was replaced by the selfie camera, filling the screen with another image of the girl, but this one moved, breathed, and stared unblinkingly back at him. She shrunk away from him, her trembling hands drawn inward to her chest, pressing together over the adorable purple shortalls she wore over her soft pink top. She smiled softly at Oliver, warmly, as if to tell him that it’s okay to be scared, but that he was safe. Foolishly, he believed her, and he watched as she relaxed, then waved meekly at him, a gesture he mirrored. He watched as the woman behind her clipped something to the bib of her shortalls, feeling Rose do the same on his own. The hand in the camera traveled along the pink ribbon adorned with rainbows and hearts until it reached a small object at the end. It was purple, adorned with various stickers and stones. The clip attached to its handle, and Oliver could see a few white squares glued to it, but couldn’t make them out from the image. The object was carried up and placed gently into the girl’s mouth, who began sucking on it, just as Oliver did the pacifier that Rose placed into his.

The camera zoomed in on the object, and Rose began to read the letters aloud. “O-L-I-V-I-A. O-liv-ia. Olivia. Can you say it with me babygirl?”

“Ow bi bi ba,” Oliver tried to follow Rose’s direction, but the teet of the pacifier only further hindered his sluggish tongue, but to his surprise Rose lit up with praise.

“That’s right sweetie! Olivia, that’s my sweet princess,” she praised. “That’s you!” she cheered, punctuated with a boop on his nose.

Oliver stared wide eyed at Olivia, who did the same back to him. She raised her hand to her face, and poked her cheek, just as Oliver did his. His denial shattered again, and tears welled in his eyes as the truth took root, that he was this Olivia now. And as he accepted that, he could just start to make out his own face in hers. Gone were the dark circles under his eyes, earned through years of late nights and bright screens, instead was a cheery, almost sparkling expression, one that held itself in glee while in neutral, but the same eyes were behind both. They were his lips forming the smile, albeit not chapped and neglected. His cheeks lifted by a smile and a healthy bit of residual baby fat, rather than drooping and shallow from his feast or famine cuisine choices. It was his face, just, not from his life.

That’s right. That’s what Rose was. It was some time… thing. It ate his past, twisted it, made it into something it wasn’t. He realized this once before, and his mind had snapped like a twig under the weight of Rose’s eldritch power. That brokenness must have given the Rose creature all the time it needed to turn every moment of his life over in its sick hands, to guide him perfectly into being its new favorite toy. Olivia, Rose’s baby doll.

However, Oliver, try as he might, couldn’t remember any of it. Not just the past week, but as he rapidly flipped through his memories, nothing of Rose’s manipulations had reached him. He remembered remembering some teddy bear, but it didn’t exist to him. Rose must have planted it while he was here, and he believed it for a time, but now there wasn’t a trace left to him. He, at least in the core of himself, was still Oliver, even if his whole body begged to differ. He still had a glimmer of hope, and some path of resistance that he could only pray stayed hidden from the monster gently bouncing him on her lap.

Rose, for her part, was in heaven. She was still showing her Olivia all the pictures from their time together, and there were quite a few. Tea parties, dress up, dolls, cartoons, snuggles, naps in her crib, naps in a sunbeam in the bay window, so very many diaper changes, and even a few before and after pictures of shifts she had made to Olivia’s timeline. It was one thing to have an obedient princess, but Rose could give her anything, so she rewrote anything she could to make her princess happier. She even paid Olivia’s parents a visit when they first met, providing just the right nudge to shift Olivia’s genetics to be ever more perfect.

Photos showed how Olivia had lost almost six inches in height, had gained wider hips, an unnaturally soft voice, and an exceptionally mild puberty. She was almost hairless, except for her strawberry blonde locks, another subtle tweak she made sure of. Sure, she was still male in one particularly tiny way, but Rose had worked wonders with everything else. She made sure her little girl grew up without a single strong male friend, and so feminine mannerisms became muscle memory, along with makeup and fashion sense. With even greater control, she didn’t even have to play coy about potty training issues; she just made sure Olivia never made it out of diapers a day in her life. She kept her weak and uncoordinated through genetics, timely illnesses, and distracting idleness, and even nurtured an adorable speech impediment. Yes, Olivia was her perfect baby girl, in every single way.

Oliver sat quietly, putting his all into not giving away his advantage while Rose swiped through image after image, each somehow worse than the last. The final swipe opened up a video, one dated from this morning. Oliver saw himself toddling around the room, giggling as he chased a sunspot reflecting off the phone, when Rose piped up.

“Livvy, could you do Mommy a favor?”

“Yesh mama,” he heard Olivia reply sweetly from around the pacifier. The same one his body continued to betray him as is softly sucked upon it, something he had to remind himself was working as camouflage from his captor’s suspicions.

“Can you make pushies for Mommy, like a good girl?”

Rose smiled so wide her back teeth were showing. Oliver felt his heart skip a beat as he watched Olivia, no, as he watched himself. There he was, on camera, just hours ago, bending his knees until he was crouching.

Rose pulled Oliver closer her hand firm around his waist as the clip continued to play. She knew something of his mind remained, but didn’t know how much. This would surely tell.

Oliver’s heart had caught up with him, and now beat out of his chest in a panic. He knew even the slightest flinch here could spell his doom, but he just couldn’t watch. Even the sound, as he heard himself grunting with effort, drew him closer to the edge. He had to think, there must be—

“I wub yous mama.”

Rose dropped the phone, frozen. She looked down at her Olivia, openly weeping. “W-what was that, angel?”

“I,” Oliver tilted his head back to look up at Rose, hamming it up, “w-wubs yous, mama!” He squeezed his arms across his chest, adding in a little wobble as he did. In truth, he didn’t have to work hard to sell the speech, his tongue stuttering all on its own as it formed the sounds, and its higher pitch alone would have Rose doing anything he asked. But still, this was his life he was gambling on, no such thing as too much effort.

Rose wiped the streaming tears from her eyes and lifted her beautiful girl up, placing her back down to face her, laying her head on her chest. Rose kissed her forehead and played with the hair around Olivia’s face. “I love you too baby, more than anything.”

Oliver let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. To Rose, it sounded like a sigh of contentment, melting her heart even further, holding Olivia’s head even closer to her chest. Oliver took the quiet moment to start forming a plan, or at least, he meant to. Unfortunately, his body had other plans, as the rhythmic pulse of Rose’s heartbeat slowly drowned out every thought in his head. Eventually he gave up on trying to gather his thoughts every time they got wiped clean.

Soon, Rose began to rock back and forth, the added motion only further addling his thoughts. Which is why Rose’s hand moved unnoticed to free her breast, and why Oliver didn’t resist as she moved him to brush his cheek against her exposed nipple, his rooting reflex taking over. It wasn’t until he had already swallowed his first mouthful that Oliver even noticed something had happened at all. Still, the realization that he was breastfeeding hung just over the horizon, refusing to dawn for several long moments. None of his natural defenses alerted him, every sense and reflex left in his body came back with a perfectly normal, even enjoyable report. It took until Rose lifted his head to move to her other breast that his consciousness focused on something being wrong. He had stopped sucking, stopped swallowing, stopped being nourished and cared for. When he beat through the fog to try and discover the source of the problem, he saw what he was doing in perfect clarity, and was nauseated.

“Oh, looks like someone got a bit over-full!” Rose beamed, putting her Olivia into an awkward, standing pose next to her while she cleaned the spit-up off her chest.

Oliver’s legs shook under him, but held firm. He had to use his arms to keep steady on his feet at first, but just about mastered the balance by the time Rose turned back to him, and wiped his face clean.

“Well, I think that’s just about enough excitement for one diaper, don’t you Livvy? But before we get you changed, can you do Mommy a favor?”

Oliver looked at Rose, a puzzled look on his face, which she promptly used as an excuse to boop him on his nose.

“Silly girl, playing like this isn’t your favorite part,” Rose teased, laughing hard enough to give Oliver chills. “Well fine, I’ll play my part, as long as you do yours. Now, again, can you do Mommy a favor?”

Oliver wanted to run, to scream, but he knew anything shy of what Rose wanted would spell his doom, so he swallowed hard, the taste of breastmilk still flickering at the edges of his mouth, and let out a meek “Yesh mama…” His voice trailed off, and he stared at his feet, watching his toes curl under him in anticipation.

“Can you make pushies for Mommy, like a good girl?”

[DainaGirl]

I did it! Over 16,000 words, which is... bonkers for me, but I did it. Thank you all for reading along. I would love to do more stories in this universe. I know my writing is far from perfect, but I feel like I've grown by leaps and bounds since this story began. Oh, quick bit of Content Warning, there's implication of intent to self-harm here, but none occurs, and there's nothing explicitly stated, it's just the thought of it that gets brought up. Tried to steer around it, but it is in here, so please take care of yourself if that's going to affect you negatively. Love y'all!

FINALE

It was over almost before it began. A statement unfortunately true of his current situation in more ways than Oliver felt comfortable thinking about. Right now, his focus was purely on the sudden added weight to his severely drooping pamps.

It wasn’t going to break him, he would never allow that. He couldn’t let that monster win over him, he would never accept it.

This was that thing’s fault anyway. ‘Rose’ had done this to him, and he hated her for it, a feeling that seethed inside of him and burned across his foreign flesh.

If he could just keep up this ruse for a little while longer, maybe he could escape. Or maybe she would come to her senses and he could talk this out. Maybe everything would be okay.

But he wasn’t okay, he knew that. He was all alone in this broken body. This broken timeline. Just imagining one more minute here was unbearable, but he knew this would be an unending torment.

Finally, he smelled what he had done. What he had chosen to do. Rose may have set everything up, but he… he did this to himself. This mess was his fault.

Tears were streaming down his face, but Oliver made no attempts to stop them. His whole body felt a new kind of numb. Not the foreign sluggishness he woke to, which had dulled his tongue and his motor skills. No, this numbness came with a deep aching pain in his chest that overwhelmed every other sensation. The truth of his situation had struck him, and he could never undo the accumulated damage. He wondered if he even had a mother anymore, or a father. Or siblings. Or friends. He couldn’t confirm that a single shred of the world he knew was still out there.

Oliver was alone.

 

At least, he wished he was.

His vision was blurry from the cascading tears, but he could still see when Rose’s shadow fell upon him. His flesh was too overwhelmed to give details, but he could still feel the pressure on his sides as Rose lifted him up, and when she set him down a moment later. The sounds of her voice didn’t reach him, nor did those of ripping tapes. No, Oliver didn’t comprehend much of the world around him until after his stench was taken away and replaced with a fresh dusting of powder.

“All better,” he heard Rose say while giving a solid pat to his groin. He clearly heard the ensuing crinkle, felt the soft push of material, and smelt a quick gust of powder carried on the wind. Whatever reprieve his breakdown had afforded him was now gone, and he had to clearly face the world before him.

He looked down from the blank ceiling to see Rose smiling at him from between his legs. Her hand was still softly pressed into his body’s only covering. That plain white diaper pressed his already weakened legs apart far enough he began to have doubts about his ability to walk, or even waddle, in them. The rest of his body was pale and smooth and rapidly growing cold. He watched as his clumsy arms responded broadly to his commands, crossing his chest and shivering slightly. A small smile cracked on his face as he realized he still had some modicum of control over his body.

“Uhms, Wothe,” he babbled, “A-a-ay-.” He couldn’t even manage to say ‘I’ without sounding like an idiot. In frustration, Oliver bit his unresponsive tongue, then tried a more efficient, less elegant approach, “me cowld.” Fewer syllables, fewer sounds to work out. It would have to do for now.

“Aww, I’m sorry baby, just got lost in your pretty little face. Let Mommy get you something to wear.”

Speaking of efficiencies, Oliver considered that ‘mo-my’ would be easier to parse out than ‘Rose’, especially with that damnable s in there, but he wasn’t willing to make that compromise yet. Rather sound like an idiot than that thing’s child.

Rose had left him for the far side of the room where his dresser once was. His eyes followed her as she went, and while there was a dresser there, it definitely wasn’t the one that was there when he moved in. This one looked almost plastic, everything either pink with white trim, or white with pink trim. It didn’t even have handles on the drawers, but rather rounded heart indentions that gave just enough grip to open.

It was babyproofed. And not only the dresser, but as he gazed around, everything in the room was either rubberized, soft, or rounded. Even the outlets had little pink hearts covering the sockets. Was Rose really worried about him hurting himself in such a stupid way? He may have the fine motor skills of a toddler, generously speaking, but he wasn’t as stupid as one.

With a huff, he put it out of his mind for now, instead studying the other changes to his prison cell. Clearly his desk had been swapped with the changing table he laid on, it’s cubbies filled with various diapers and supplies. Next to that, where once would have been a simple wastebin was a sizable diaper genie. A curious thought spurred him to wonder about its contents, but was immediately vetoed by every bit of reason he had left, and forced his attention onto whatever was next.

Surprisingly, there was no bathroom door anymore; the space was replaced with a small tiled space upon which sat a plastic, footed tub. There were no walls or even curtains separating the space from the rest of the room. It seemed he wasn’t expected to need privacy, likely because he wouldn’t be the one bathing himself. His suspicion was confirmed when he realized that while the tub had a drain, it didn’t have a spigot, meaning he couldn’t even draw his own bath. Rose would have to carry in water herself if she decided to give Oliver a bath, but he couldn’t ever make that decision himself. One more layer of babyproofing, it seemed.

The previously vacant corner of the room was an overflowing mess of ‘entertainment’. Letter blocks lay scattered among various dolls, each in different, poorly matching outfits. Not that Oliver wanted to correct the wardrobe crimes that had been committed, but clearly the past week hadn’t been one of good decisions. Oliver found himself lightly chuckling at how absurd it all looked. He scanned the blocks to see if he made any hilarious mistakes there too. H E L P caught his eye. Just a coincidence, right? He saw those pictures, ‘Olivia’ couldn’t make sense of the world around her, she wouldn’t even be able to spell that out. His eyes landed on R U N next, and his laughter stopped cold. N O T M E. N O E S C A P E.

The room wasn’t babyproofed, it was… Oliver shook his head; he would never even consider that. No matter how bad things got here, he couldn’t even imagine… that.

By the time Rose walked back over, he felt small, and a little sick.

“Hey there sweetheart, don’t you worry one bit. After I get you all snuggly, let’s talk, you and I, okay?”

Oliver nodded, focusing on the immediate present to calm his fears. Rose had in her hands a folded square of sunshine yellow fabric, along with two other items he couldn’t see. She unfolded the yellow into a sundress. Narrow straps, topped with bows, led down to a short elastic midsection, before loosening into cascading sunbeams. Little heart shaped pockets were sewn into it, both pastel, one teal and the other purple. It looked short, but Oliver knew he was much shorter than he once was, so it was hard to tell. A pang of concern rose in his chest at the idea of wearing a dress, but that would give way to other fear, so he squashed it as best he could for the moment.

Still focusing on the present, he followed Rose’s commands. “Head first,” and so he stared through the fabric towards the light as she pulled it down. “Now for your armses!” meant he helped her to pull his arms to their appropriate sides. “Aaaand up!” he held out his arms as Rose lifted him, letting the dress fall around him, the hem settling just an inch or so below his waist. It wasn’t ideal, but if he was standing still, it did cover his diaper.

“I know you’re probably still a bit chilly-willy, so lay back down for Mommy.”

Oliver let Rose lay him back down, who took his feet into her hands and began rolling what looked like conjoined white socks up them. They were thick, but comfortable and warm, and kept going up and up as Rose rolled them up both legs. Oliver began idly rubbing his feet together as Rose finished, the tights covering his diaper.

Keeping his focus just on how he felt at the moment, the soft white tights were nice. He was warm enough but it was still breathable, and rubbing his legs together felt so smooth and nice. So nice that as he felt his diaper warm slightly, that he didn’t let it upset him, just let out a calm breath and kept playing with his feet.

“Ooone last…,” Rose said, joy bubbling in her voice as she pulled a wool cap over Oliver’s head, “perfect!” She held her head next to Oliver’s and took a quick selfie, before showing it to him.

Looking at the image, he forced himself to squash the anxious thoughts that clawed at him, and to just look at the image for what it is. They both looked happy, like mother and daughter with matching smiles that made it all the way up to their eyes. The woven beanie on his head read “Sunshine”, and the strands of hair falling out of it matched those framing Rose’s face too. He had to admit that, if he kept quiet all the reasons it was wrong, it did feel right.

Rose kissed him on the forehead, and offered him her hand. “Come along Sunshine, I think it’s time we talked.”

Oliver tentatively took her hand as she led him down from the changing table. He landed with a wobble, but found he could just about manage to walk, as long as he kept his steps small, stance wide, and used Rose’s hand for support. He toddled behind her across the room and finally to the door, where Rose stopped and bent down to eye level with him.

“I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not supposed to show you any of this, but, uhm…” Rose’s voice trailed off as she blushed. “I just love you so much babygirl, and I just want you to- to- to love me too, okay?”

Oliver just stared back at Rose, giving the slightest of nods, but not willing to commit to anything more than that. Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy Rose, as she wiped a tear from her eye and stood all the way back up, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

As Rose turned the knob on the door, her hand twisted in a direction Oliver couldn’t quite comprehend, and when she pushed, the door seemed to just rotate out of existence in an instant. Beyond the now vacant frame was an endless, bottomless expanse. Shapes danced and played in patterns he could only glimpse the order of before being lost to reason. Colors, known and unknown, burst into life and faded out in equal measure. Impossible things happened here, always just outside the peripheral, leaving only traces of their magnificence when gazed upon directly.

“This is the Timestream. It’s where I was born,” Rose spoke out into the space as she sat down at the doorway, hanging her legs over the abyss. “My mother,” she chuckled as her voice cracked slightly, “never had ‘time’ for me. All of eternity, right here, and I just…” She wiped a tear from her eye before turning back to Oliver. “I wanted to be different. I wanted to love those in my care, to give them everything I could so they felt safe, cared for, loved. I wanted you to know that I didn’t mean to…”

Oliver watched her eyes dart around, tears welling up in them as she searched for the right words. He looked down and away from her, his hands wringing with uncertainty, held to the front of his dress. Had he gotten Rose all wrong? She surely was something Other, but was she the horror he made her out to be?

She seemed genuinely distressed by this, and he knew the words to help, but he found himself unable to say them. Fear bound his heart and his tongue, but he weakly reached out with one hand towards Rose. He didn’t and maybe couldn’t love her, but he also couldn’t deny her compassion.

Rose fought against herself to make eye contact with Oliver, having to stop and wipe the tears away before she was able to look at him properly, and take his hand. She led him forward to the doorway, and helped him to sit next to her. She considered pulling him close to her, to hold her lovely baby in this vulnerable moment, but she just couldn’t make herself do it to him anymore.

“It was killing you,” she blurted out, staring out into the vast infinity before her, hoping he understood.

Oliver moved to speak, but words failed him still, so he just placed his dainty hand on top of hers, and watched eternity go by.

The two shared that moment in the space between then and forever. They hoped that as they shared that view, that somehow they would share their hearts too. And, like a miracle, they both knew what neither could say. That Oliver could never be the mindless baby Rose had planned on. That Rose had spent that week watching Olivia break down again and again before her eyes. How it broke Rose’s heart each time to rewind from the brink of disaster to keep Olivia from harm. That the snapshots of happiness were just that, carefully handpicked rays of sunshine pulled from an otherwise unbroken sea of dark clouds. How one day Olivia just stopped, and Rose felt powerless for the first time in her life. It wasn’t an accident that Oliver came back to his senses; Rose had done it intentionally, as a last desperate prayer to save her baby.

“Thooo… whadda we do?” Oliver finally spoke. A bead of light streamed across the expanse before scattering into a million pieces, each swallowed up by the beautiful chaos.

Rose just laughed and shrugged. Blues and pinks washed by like the tide, each wave swallowing the one before as they crept along time. She laid back onto the carpet, her eyes taking a rest from the chaos, looking instead at the still life she had created in here. The stiff, fixed walls, upon which hung the same decorations, second after second, age after age. The cycles which ever repeated, changes, naps, and playtimes, again and again. She knew every inch of this space, and had built it all because she loved to love Oliver.

But as she stared at the boy, a silhouette against all of time, she knew that it wasn’t what he loved. No, it was more than that. She loved to love him, but what she was doing… just somehow wasn’t the love she craved to give. She tried to, wanted to, but without that return, she still felt empty. Yet there he was, peering out into everything that ever could have been and might still be, kidnapped and changed by forces beyond his reckoning, but still here. And for the first time, she admired not what he could be for her, but what he already was.

“Oliver.”

He turned around to look at Rose, his eyes still full of the dancing lights. “Yesh Wo-,” he cut himself off, “Yesh mommy?”

Rose’s eyes shed tear after tear, but she knew this moment wasn’t about her, and pushed through. “I don’t want to keep you trapped here anymore. I want to…” her emotions surged within her, roiling against everything she was supposed to be, “I want to go make you happy, truly happy. So if that means erasing myself so you have the life I stole from you, t-then I’ll do it.”

It was Oliver’s turn to cry as he considered his life. Was he ever really happy before this? He… he was accomplished, successful at what he set out to do, and had others who were proud of him, or occasionally relied upon him. But… happy? He pushed himself back from the void and laid back to look Rose eye to eye. He worked to move his tongue, but none of the shapes he could form could come close to a reasonable answer to what made him happy.

It wasn’t his friends. Sure, they were good pals, but he was always more happy to have them at arm’s length. To have around so when people asked he could say "yes, I sure do have friends, look at them”, but maintaining that was something he did at a cost to himself, rather than a benefit of itself. And what did he have of note beyond that? He had a family somewhere, but they always cared more about him than for him. More concerned with what he was doing than how he was feeling and so calls with them also felt like just another box to check in life. Same for career, education… everything. It was all so much nothing.

He didn’t know when, but somewhere in his reverie he had curled up onto Rose’s chest, and was busy staining her dress with his tears. She lay still, not wanting to disturb him or take advantage in this moment, but then she felt Oliver grab her arm and pull it around him. She gave a strong squeeze, then just held him for a long time. “My sunshine,” she whispered to herself contentedly.

 

He awoke, lying in the middle of his crib, cuddled up to a large teddy bear. It had been some time since that night, and he was full of new hopes, and following their plan had finally led him here.

He was wet, as usual, but didn’t mind as he knew Mommy would be there soon to take care of him. It was going to be a big day, after all, and he was happy for any extra rest he could get. He sucked happily on his sparkling rainbow pacifier. A storm cloud sticker sat on center of the button, and the letters on the handle spelled out Raye. A new name for a new chapter of his life, one they had decided on that night. He was her sunshine, after all.

Soon enough, Rose came barreling through the door. “So sorry Sunshine, you wouldn’t imagine how busy the morning has been already!” She had the look of someone who could never find enough hours in the day, and had the messy bun and half-tucked blouse to prove it. She lifted Raye out of the crib, prying the bear from his clutches, then giving a big kiss to his forehead.

They chatted about the day ahead over a routine change. The paperwork was all signed and filed, and the used diaper balled up into the bin. Their carefully selected nannies had all finished their training, and Raye insisted on wearing the same dress as he did that night. They gave each other a big, long hug, and left the nursery for the last time.

Yes, Raye had accepted a lot of changes in quite a short period of time, realizing that, if he just let himself, he really enjoyed being tended to by Rose, as long as that wasn’t everything in his life. And yes, he decided dresses were too cute to not wear, but still felt like ‘he’ fit best. But, the biggest change wasn’t around his waist, it was at the far side of the city from where his adventure had begun.

It turns out that the land from the company Rose had poofed away was up for sale, and was suspiciously cheap. So the two hatched a plan that night in front of the Timestream. They would work together to build something new, and to help those who wanted it.

An ethical regression clinic, they called it. Apparently other regression clinics had begun springing up across the globe, so much so that the city was happy to welcome its first and had the paperwork ready when the two had approached them. The work of her sisters, Rose had said with a bit of venom.

See, it turns out Rose was unique among her sisters. So much so that when Raye had asked Rose to stop using her powers for her own gain, she agreed, instead of blinking Raye from existence. When Rose explained as such to Raye, he asked for an unscheduled change.

But, today was opening day! “Sunshine and Roses: The Ethical Regression Clinic” read the sign above their front door. Raye was apprehensive about sharing Rose with others, but he kept quiet, knowing how much good this would do for the both of them.

He would serve as “Big Brother” of the house, and a sign of goodwill to anyone interested in their program. Any prospective clients would be guaranteed time with him to discuss their hopes, fears, and needs, and together they would determine the best route of treatment, whether in residence or outpatient. His tongue still gave him trouble from time to time, but he had learned how to work around most of the sounds, even if it all came out obnoxiously cute from time to time.

Rose, on the other hand, was, well, Rose. It turns out titles and licensing entities were never instituted for Regression Clinics, supposedly because her sisters were less forthright with what their clinics did. Rose, however, talked through every change to a client’s timeline that needed be done, and went through with surgical precision to make their lives better.

Some people just needed a bad memory covered up, so she interwove supportive items to suture their timeline around it. It would eventually be a popular enough treatment that it was hard to go a full day in the city without seeing someone carrying around their own Captain Cuddles.

Others had it worse, and after extensive work, would end up needing a lifetime of care. Rose called them all her babies, and in a way, she was right. They had volunteered for her to completely remove them from their own timelines, and so they stayed in the clinic forever. It wasn’t an easy decision to admit anyone at all to this program, knowing how hard it was for Oliver back then, but Raye insisted that if it was a choice, it could be good for them. After all, the other regression clinics seemed to be doing so without consent, so this gave those in need a safe place to turn. So that’s what opening day was all about, their first batch of twelve full time residents.

“Hiyas,” Raye spoke into the microphone, looking out at their new residents and the support staff that would be taking care of them. “We awe so vewy pwoud of awl of yous.”

Rose smiled from the side, watching Raye give such a warm welcome to everyone. She could see the love he had for others in every word, and it filled her heart. She knew so blatantly defying her sisters would eventually mean trouble, but if it meant seeing her baby filled with such love and joy, she would do anything. After all, she was in the prime of her eternity, well loved, with a clear future ahead of her. All she had to do was be brave, and press on towards the horizon. He had taught her that.