Chapter 48 - Trickle piss from champagne glasses, history on repeat relapses

21 Prairial Year CCXXXI, Potat, South Windland, Libertalia – Amazonia

Doctor Mugkran’s office was underlit, like the bulbs were losing their dim, and the walls had a dim yellowing to their appearance. He did not often need to bring parents or patients to this room, and for that matter, mostly used it as a retreat. He laid the medical tablet with Oliver’s information on his desk, and within seconds it linked with his personal computer. He could with a few presses from a hidden keyboard under the desk, bring up a simple display for the parents to look at.

Ben was seated in a chair along the far wall, anxiously rubbing his knees under her khaki pants, as though to lightly address an itch or a bite. His frame would occasionally lean over towards Jennifer, who had gotten herself situated in the chair next to him quietly mirroring her legs over Victoria’s. She seemed to be distracted by the new environment, her gaze following a pattern on the floor, to the wall, then clock, and even the ceiling, then back to her fingers to bring the input into some imagined calculus. Outside of a small hum and jiggle, it was easy to ignore her. The woman carrying her was a different story.

Victoria had gracefully dropped the momcessories in a pile next to the chair, and was now leaning forward, her hands barely holding Jennifer in place while she drew the room’s attention back to the Doctor. The Doctor leaned back slightly in his own chair, just staring at the two parents, waiting for one to make the first move.

Ben could not take the pressure and cracked first, “I um, think we should do what’s best for Oliver.”

“Hmm,” was the only response of the medical professional, almost amused Ben had to say it.

Ben tried again, “I mean, he’s been having trouble sleeping and I didn’t know if there was a treatment or simple procedure to make things normal for him.”

The doctor waited a second before commenting, “That’s pretty common in the small ones.”

“So, is there like a pill you’d…” Ben was trying to lead the doctor somewhere.

“The suprachiasmatic nucleus regulates the body, receiving signals from light and dark, that tells the body if it should be time to rise or go to bed,” The doctor flicked something on the tablet, “Oliver’s hypothalamus is inflamed with activity, likely his mind is stressed out trying to catch up with the thirty-two-hour days.”

“Then we should…”

The doctor was fast, “I could cut it out.”

“I don’t know if that, is…”

Victoria gave a light clap, “Oh that’s a wonderful idea. He’d be just like a newborn.”

“What?” Ben looked at her confused.

The doctor made it simple, “He’d sleep when he’s tired, and wake when he’s not, and if it’s the middle of the night, well…”

Ben shook his head, “Wait, there’s a procedure to turn little’s into … unable to regulate their sleep? They just get up in the middle of the night and what? To what end?”

The doctor continued, “Usually they cry desperately trying to get back to sleep, sometimes for upwards of an hour, it’s quite distressing. And not just once, probably three or four times a night easily.”

“Who wants this?” Ben fell back into the chair, a bite of anger on his lips.

The doctor was cold in his response, “It makes the experience more authentic.”

Victoria seemed giddy, “Oh that sounds fun. It’d be on you Ben to get to him, but I like the idea he sleeps more during the day.”

Ben waved his arms, “No. No one is getting their brain removed.” He turned to Victoria, “I just wanted to know if there was a way to solve this. Without ripping his mind apart.”

The Doctor put the tablet down, “Oh, well, the nucleus is quite adaptive, he should be improving by about five to ten minutes a day. In a couple months he’ll be right as rain. I can give some melatonin to help better regulate things, but if the condition continues or worsens, we can add a small electrical signal under the skull to give him a bit of a push”

Ben’s eyes narrowed no longer angry, just uncertain, “Why didn’t you… why didn’t you offer that first?”

“This isn’t about what’s in the child’s best interests. It’s what’s in yours,” Mugkran revealed.

Ben gaped his mouth then closed it, not responding, so Mugkran continued, “Everyone always says they want to do what’s best for the little ones, but the fact is, Oliver was perfectly capable of being a fully actualized adult. He doesn’t need parents to guide him. Even if he has a disability, one I think we both know he did not have before he met you, treating him like a baby isn’t going to cure it. His best route would be to run away and never come back. This is about what you guys want. It always was. I’m offering you a chance to have your perfect baby, do want Oliver to be thinner, fatter, shorter, bouncier, there is no limit to how we can change him.”

Ben shook his head, but the doctor was not finished, “Oliver can be your perfect baby forever. You would never have to worry about him growing old, leaving the house, meeting a gal, of all the things that could go wrong in raising him, he would always be stuck at his maximum potential. Nothing you could do would ruin that. And you, every day you would come home and there would be your baby boy waiting for you, you would be the most important thing he cares about.”

“He is my friend.” Ben said softly, looking to Victoria for support, her face was tough, “I need him.”

Victoria shook her head, “You don’t need Oliver to do your job, and you certainly aren’t taking advantage of Oliver – the thirty-six-year-old man – when it comes to adult friends. What are you going to do, take him to a bar, maybe go bowling?”

He had not considered bowling, Oliver would probably need bumpers, but they could make it work.

Ben was torn. They were offering him an out, not of fatherhood but just the hardest parts of it. He had already betrayed Oliver so many times since they got back, and now he was being told to throw away their friendship. His leg was starting to shake quickly as he contemplated it. Oliver would be more fun if he was a bit more three than thirty.

“I like Oliver as he is. He’s kind and intelligent and charming.” Six eyes darted rapidly towards the small voice that spoke it. Jennifer had taken her thumb out long enough to comment on the adult conversation.

Victoria tried to dismiss her, “Sweety we’re just…”

“No, don’t pretend I’m too little to understand what you’re talking about. Oliver deserves better than this. You said you’d protect him.” Jennifer pointed her slick saliva covered hand at Ben. He shrunk back under the accusation, becoming the smallest one in the room.

Ben closed his eyes, and refocused, his boy needed him to man up. “I’m sorry, I think this isn’t going to work, we can revisit the surgery ideas another day, but I’m putting my foot down, I only want to do what’s in Oliver’s best interests.” He began pushing off the chair as though he was signaling to leave.

Victoria gently patted Jennifer’s hair, her face long in defeat. Slowly a smile slipped up her face, and she turned her eyes towards the doctor, “What about the cancer? You mentioned radiation?”

Ben’s blood chilled to ice, and he fell a half foot back to his chair in a thump. The doctor rearranged himself, before picking up the tablet, “Now I did not say it was cancer. There’s just some unusual activity in the brain. You mentioned he was not from this world, perhaps a combination of dimensional travel, exposure to radiation, maybe it’s a mutation or some unknown reaction. I’d have to go in there, take a look, just to be sure.”

Ben tried to regain control, “That sounds complicated, perhaps we should seek an expert…”

The doctor was fast, “Oh no it’s a simple procedure these days. I can have a go in the next hour,” He turned to Victoria, “just pop open the hood and see what needs some tuning.”

* * *

“The pontine micturition center is primary mechanism for controlling urinary function in the brain, and while damaging it would leave Oliver in a state of constant voiding, the more delicate operation is to intercept the signal coming back through the cortex. He will be fully aware he has to go, but unable to tell his body to hold.”

Oliver was floating a few inches above the table as Doctor Mugkran was explaining the procedure, a small gown covered Oliver’s body, leaving it mostly exposed and naked with a variety of wires and tubes that connected to advanced machines about the small operating theatre. One nurse kept on Oliver’s vitals, while another followed the doctor as he performed brain surgery.

“Where we want to take a look for is right along,” The doctor squinted through tiny glasses enhancing his vision into Oliver’s brain. It was like the already bright lights of the operating theater had kicked up two-fold. He closed and reopened his eyes, trying to force the pupils to contract, but Oliver’s tissue seemed to blur.

He put down the scalpel he had brought up to Oliver’s grey matter and started breathing heavily. It was not a sickness, though his ears could no longer hear the notes of the machines, and the nurses’ concerned question was a mile away from him. The bright light grew, until finally it was all his vision could see.

* * *

17 Frimaire Year CCII, Aprisium, Colorubrum, Libertalia – Amazonia

Paul looked around the bedroom, taking in the furniture and dim lights. Everything was big again. Before him there was a pile of toys and blocks, a minefield of disaster for the inattentive and unshoed who might dare step into his room. He backed his head against the racecar laden sheets against the massive bed that was behind him. Taking a shaking hand on the cloth bedding, he pulled himself up to get a better look at the children’s room he found himself in, causing the fitted blanket to wrinkle under his weight.

A few minutes ago, he was performing brain surgery. Now he was, what, three? Four? He looked down at his tied blue denim shorts past his buttoned white shirt. Something with his underpants felt off. The act of standing sent a signal to his brain, an urgent panging in the bladder.

He waddled carefully over blocks that had been turned into castles and forts, stacks of children’s books that had been laid as roads, and overturned cars and balls that littered the bedroom, finally making his way to the doorknob. With a slight turn he stared into the cavernous hallway that was his parent’s old house, from three decades ago.

“Gotta potty,” he tried to calm himself, unsure if that would matter, taking a few more steps down the hall. There was a bathroom on this floor, around this turn. The pangs built up towards his bladder, and he focused his breathing and cupped his legs together. Sweat began to build along the inner thighs.

“Focus Paul, you’ve got this,” the toddling child reminded himself.

He turned the corner, passing the blue flowered vase that he remembered broke when he was seven and was playing ball in the house (he blamed the dog - it was the first time he successfully lied to his parents). He knew instantly he made a mistake, this was not the right hallway. The only thing down this path was another man.

“Hello, I need to go…” Paul started, and the other man turned. He quickly realized he was taller than him, but about a foot, and was dressed impressively, with a blue suit and tie. Paul’s dwindling toddler mind tried to comprehend what this was, he looked like Aunty Kate’s baby, but he was dressed like an adult.

“Is this the future or the past?” Oliver pulled at his suitcoat, then looked down at his fingers and hands, expecting to find the answer there.

Paul tilted his head before asking, “Who are you?”

“Oh hey, I’m Oliver. Nice to meet you.” Oliver reached out his hand. Paul was impressed. An adult who was his own size and wanting to be his friend. This was the coolest day ever.

Except, he really had to pee. Paul shook a bit and started to dance with his feet, “I uh, sorry, need to go find the potty.” One leg bounced in front of the other, his thighs unconsciously rubbing together.

Oliver had been dealing with the diaper dimension for over a month now, and he contemplated how to deal with this other, little? The man’s adopted parents must have had some serious surgery done to make him look this childish. Oliver, reached out with one hand and touched Paul’s shoulder, letting the other man down as best he could. Help him come to terms with his new life. Afterall, the shame was not Paul’s, it was the people who had enslaved him to his diaper fate.

“Paul, I hate to say this, but you’re in a diaper, and there’s no point wearing them if you aren’t going to use them.” Oliver tried to make him feel comfortable. “I wear them too, and it’s perfectly fine. It’s just another way of doing things.”

Paul looked down and then looked up at Oliver. Here was the coolest person he had ever met. Some kind of secret elf, and he just told him it was fun to use a diaper. He forced his aching blader to relax and tried to give a smile as he went. The world grew brighter and warmer as the two men returned to the future.

* * *

21 Prairial Year CCXXXI, Potat, South Windland, Libertalia – Amazonia

Doctor Paul Mugkran looked at his shaking hands, forcing a long breath through his surgical mask. Oliver was still floating a few inches above the operating table and his own fingers had just been a few seconds from slicing into brain tissue. Past small the opening in the skull he could see where he was supposed to bypass the cortex’s signal back to bladder, he had been moments from slicing when he had stopped himself. Something was different now. He could feel it, like a cool dampness in the room, like his pants were too tight. The bright lights and bumbling of nurses helped him refocus.

He was performing surgery on a patient. Oliver’s mother had a list of changes the length of his arm she expected him to make to the boy. He had just exposed the PMC and was following it into the cortex when he had blanked out.

“Focus Paul, you’ve got this,” the Doctor whispered to himself.

He reached forward again towards Oliver’s brain, prepared to make the change when the world shifted again.

* * *

3 Messidor Year CCV, Aprisium, Colorubrum, Libertalia – Amazonia

“This is literally something out of a television show. A bad one,” Emily warned. At only a few inches above five feet, the lunch table she sat at dwarfed her and her companion. She picked up a potato chip from her plate that was half the size of her hand and took a couple of nibbles before putting it back.

“I know, I know, but she’s desperate, and she thinks only a little can do this,” Edmund replied. He picked up his half pound burger before putting it back and reaching for a large knife. The dining area at Young Cepalocum was dark, with covered blinds and weak distant lighting. The two had timed their lunch to the period just before happy hour. Outside of the staff, the restaurant was otherwise quiet and empty, and they had their pick of the few tables that did not require a booster chair.

Emily gave a look of disgust before correcting her partner, “Normal sized.” She looked down, “I don’t know why it has to be you, can’t she just adopt someone else?”

“That’s the thing, she wants someone who can be an adult, a grown up, show him we can make it to the potty, he needs a peer to his own size he can respect telling him this,” Edmund forced a bite of hamburger up, he nearly hurt his mouth stretching to fit the bun and meat in, before taking pride in his accomplishment.

Emily dropped the chip she was working on and drilled into him, “It’s a toilet, a restroom, we never call it a potty.”

Edmund was not in a mood to fight, he took a large breath and got to the point, “I’ll be honest, things aren’t going well at… No one respects my work, and I don’t think anything I do matters. She said when I’m done, she would want me for an officer position.”

“You don’t have to do this, I just got hired under Doctor Bremer, she likes some of the ideas I have. She even mentioned starting a company. I might be able to float the two of us. We could even get a studio, live like a king and a queen,” Emily tried one last time to stop Edmund.

“Besides I feel kind of bad for the kid. He’s legit tweaked out. Ms. Mugkran says her son insists he ran into some little boogeyman, who warned him against ever using the potty.” Edmund sadly rejected her attempts to stop him. He had already committed to doing this in his head ever since his boss had asked him. He had to show someone, even if it was just a seven-year-old, that he was an Amazon’s equal, that he was more than just a baby.

“Wait, seriously? Someone like us just went up to him one day, and convinced him toilets are dumb and diapers are cool?” The idea of a little boogyman was intriguing, turning over an idea in Emily’s mind. Maybe she would write a spooky story of littles that break bigs, or maybe there’s an entire secret agency of littles… normal sized people going around and convincing bigs they should give up the potty. She got a small thrill out of the possibility of convincing the Amazons they should go back to diapers.

Edmond replied, almost boasting now, “Can you imagine where he got that idea? Look, it’ll be easy, I show him how to use the toilet, he gets over his hang-ups, and I’m in line for a promotion. It’ll be like a vacation; you know how much the tedium of work is getting to me. It’ll take a few weeks, a couple months tops. Ms. Mugkran even said if he’s not good in ninety days she’ll cancel the whole project. What could go wrong?”

* * *

8 Vendémiaire Year CCVI, Aprisium, Colorubrum, Libertalia – Amazonia

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do, Ms. Mugkran. You promised me a better position if I could get Paul to use the pot… toilet, and I think things have turned out far better than expected, especially given the difficulties you’ve unnecessarily added to this,” Edmund’s voice crept through the closed master bedroom door into the hallway, he kept an even temperament, not whining, but also serious in tone. The man was practiced with dealing with Amazons.

“You need to call me mommy when Paul’s at home Eddy,” Paul could hear his mother say through the closed door to her room. His ‘little’ brother, Edmund, had been helping him find out how cool it was to be a big kid all summer long. Now he was ready for second grade, and he was even out of pull-ups.

“With all due respect, mam, I think I’ve succeeded enough you can address me on equal terms, especially since you promised me …” Edmund tried to reinforce his authority. Paul could imagine him staring up at mommy, desperately trying to address her like an equal despite her being nearly twice his height.

Mother cut him off, “I know, I know, it’s just, things have not been going too well, we just lost a major client, and I might need to... can’t you just stay a little longer? Through the end of the season. You and Paul could go out for Saint’s-day-eve. He was looking forward to matching with you.”

Edmund’s response started muffled, but grew firm “I mean, we still… look he’s a good kid, he’s growing up fast, he’s going to have to come to terms with that I won’t be here forever.”

Paul backed away from the door, concerned. His new brother was leaving? He did not hear mother’s response, but Edmund seemed to suggest he would at least stay through the rest of the day. He was not going to cry. He was going to be a big boy, just like Eddy had taught him. Paul made a note to rush home from school as soon as he could today, just so he could spend all his time with Eddy.

When Paul did return home, he found Edmund in the family room, watching some strange television show. A cartoon green and yellow frog, with blue stripes was on a lily-pad on a poorly drawn pond, extending its tongue out at flies. Every so often numbers or text would appear. Edmund seemed almost catatonic while watching, his normal clean t-shirt was a ruffled mess, and he bit innocently at the tip of his fingernails. Was Paul approached he noticed a small dark spot stained the front of his khaki pants, with spurts of smaller drops along his thighs and legs. The smell of stale urine drew Paul closer. He touched the slightly smaller man on the knee, shaking him out of his stupor.

“Oh, you’re back. I had something…” Edmund seemed quickly lost, his eyes drawn back to the television.

“What are you watching?” Paul tried.

Edmund was unable to draw himself away, kept his eyes on the television and answered a stale response, “Glittermitten… something. Mommy said I needed to watch the new training video before I went back to work.”

Paul got to the point, “I think you wet yourself.”

Edmund had enough sense to reply, “No, big kids don’t wet themselves, you’re a big kid now, we don’t wet ourselves, we use the potty.”

Paul drew his eyes to the television again. He could see the warnings on screen, flashing bright text in blue his parents had warned him about. He knew the warning: “Stop! Close your eyes! Cover your ears and walk away.” There were songs they practiced in school; watching this was bad for him.

But Eddy was watching the television. If it was good enough for his brother, he wanted to take part too.

Paul hopped on the couch and forced himself to ignore the warnings, focusing on the frog and the bugs and the occasional number. Within a few minutes he had a similar stain on his own shorts.

21 Prairial Year CCXXXI, Potat, South Windland, Libertalia – Amazonia

Doctor Mugkran felt the warm release splash against his overloaded underwear and was glad he had gone with the higher volume supreme diapers today. Surgery on littles like Oliver could go for hours, and he would not get an opportunity to switch out of the soaked garments. He did not want to risk a leak in the operating theater, so it was critical to wear the largest pair he could. The garments were in some ways his superpower, he could go all day without needing to take a restroom break.

Closing up Oliver with precise hands, he was glad there was nothing seriously wrong with the patient. Over the past four hours he had cleaned up some excess fat deposits around the body, and made some other minor cosmetic adjustments, but had restrained against some of the excesses the boy’s mother had insisted upon. Her barbaric goals had included permanent incontinence, motor skills between crawling and walking, even limited ability to handle solid foods. Victoria reminded him of his own mother.

The dad had been a voice for reason, instead opting for subtler changes – restoring taste buds and hearing, adding an electronic regulator to the hypothalamus to help with sleep and other chemical production. Oliver’s hormones would slowly be reworked, dropping his testosterone in half, along with promoting cell production in the bones and collagen. He even suggested a few cosmetic changes, ones Oliver might not even notice.

Paul sighed into his surgical mask; he really should not show so much sympathy to the little ones. There was a connection between them and him, he understood on a fundamental level what it meant to have this challenge, to have no one see you as big, and to always try to prove themselves they were more than anyone thought they could be. He could talk with them on their own terms, explain how it was just another way of doing things. It was this excellent care with patients that made parents like Ben seek him out for delicate operations like Oliver’s.

The doctor clicked along the hospital bed, and Oliver’s body slowly descended back to the table, various tubes and machines slowly started to bring the small man back into the world.

* * *

Paul opened the door to his condo, hearing the roar of the television coming from the interior. He had changed into a casual shirt and pants after the surgery and was glad he had taken the time to switch out his disposable. The new pair was already starting to feel damp. He crept up to the family room couch, and leaned over to see Edmund, thumb dangling off the edge of his lips, and eyes enraptured by the glowing box.

“What are we watching today,” Paul started, his giant arms reaching over the top of the couch. He took a second to glance at the screen, taking in the flashing warnings. One of the joys of being un-potty-trained was that he could watch whatever he wanted without care.

Edmund, turned to the remote and turned down the volume, “Oh, just some old episodes of ‘NOW’. How was work?”

“Good, I had a surgery today, the mom and dad where in conflict on what they wanted, the two are going to need some counseling. How about you?”

Edmund glanced down, his own shorts had a bit of a bulk to them, “I tried to make it to the potty chair today. I think I’m getting better.” He pointed to the training chair adjacent to the couch.

Paul came in for a large hug around Edmund’s shoulder, “Really? That’s good, because I need you to be big again so you can teach me.” His brother had been improving since Paul had obtained custody a few months ago. Their mother had shoved Edmund nearly back to zero when she found out Paul had also watched the training videos, and his months of hard work had been undone in a single day.

Paul brought his giant form down to the couch, filling the room with a ruffle as his diaper crept up his shorts and rubbed against the sofa. Edmund turned slightly to address the giant man, while keeping on hand pointed at the television.

“You know I knew the gal who wrote this. I always thought she based Oliver on me,” Edmund suggested, “I’m the kind of guy who never succeeds at anything.”

Paul disagreed, “No, don’t think of yourself like that, you’re the complete opposite of him in every way. You’ve always wanted to do the right thing, and you don’t give up. Besides, Naomi and Oliver are the bad guys, I don’t think they’re supposed to be based on real people.”

* * *

The most jarring feature of the room was the clown. It had been added to the long wall behind the bed, with its long arm and balloons coming around in a strange long arc, as though inviting the little in the bed to reach up and grab it. Oliver stared at it, his head splitting from a numb but still present pain behind the eye and behind the neck. He pushed up against the back of his pillow, the room itself was small but cozy, intended for a single patient, though in Oliver’s case, a man or woman up to twice his size. The yellow walls were darkened by thick black shades at the window and fading fluorescent lights above him. It was quiet, the busy hum of the hospital barely noticeable past the thick walls of the room.

Oliver flicked at the heavy covers, and glanced at his hospital gown, paper thin and tied, it made no effort to cover his thick disposables. With a slow hand Oliver pressed against the thick plastic surface that was tightly bound to his waist, patting the thick bump, and feeling the damp used interior press against his own package. A dull pleasure rippled upward through his body. He hung his hand between the warm bedding and the smooth plastic, as though his fingers alone were holding the garments in. Oliver’s thin eyes traveled across the empty room before following the clown’s arms back to his body. A smile slowly grew on his face.

“It’d be OK, no one would know,” Oliver whispered to himself. “The whole world wants this from you.” His eyelids fell half-way down, while he eyeballs rotated up, he forced himself to relax the tightened muscles in his abdomen and let out a long breath. With it went warm liquid that splashed against absorbent cloth material. The stream grew in intensity and flicked back on Oliver’s skin, providing a pleasurable dirty warmth in his act of surrender. The stream touched just under his instrument, coating the sensitive parts, before lapping down against the edge of his leg. Slowly the diaper filled and expanded against Oliver’s insides, the exterior holding onto the warmth as the outside changed shade from perfect delicate white to stained with patches of gray ivory cream.

He had finally surrendered, not to deceive, not as part of some trick or even to blend in. It was not because he was inconvenienced or incapable of reaching the toilet, but because he was sick of fighting the world. This was where he was supposed to be. Oliver remained just slightly hard after he had emptied his bladder. His body shook from toe to head, and his blinking his eyes slowly returned him back to the world. Oliver let out a long breath in, just letting himself focus on the warm wetness in his crotch, a sharp contrast to the blowing strong air conditioner of hospital room. His thoughts lingered for a moment on Jennifer, and her own wet diaper rubbing against him.

Benjamin’s large form stood at the entrance of the room, near a turn that led to a private bath and the hallway. Upon seeing him, Oliver was dragged to the present, aware of the uncomfortable taint on his inner thigh and crotch, and his vulnerable openness in the hospital bed. He did not know how long Ben had been standing there, or how much of the self-debasement he had seen. Ben’s face gave no indicator of change.

“Great you’re up. You ready to go?” Ben offered, making his way to the foot of the bed, he casually glanced at a clipboard attached to the bed, making no acknowledgement of Oliver’s mess of a blanket, or recent self-debasement.

Oliver carefully pushed himself up against the back of the bed, bringing his sight towards the taller man, “Not sure, what did the doctor do? Shouldn’t there be some follow up?”

Ben flicked at the clip board, as though to read it, “It says here they took out a build-up of microplastics.”

Oliver’s eyes grew large, “Oh no, I need those.” He tried desperately to keep his face serious.

Ben reached over the bed and with long arms easily pulled Oliver up and towards him, bringing the smaller man close to his face, and holding Oliver from under his butt, a movement that let the smaller man lean into Ben’s chest. His hand lingered on the warmth and wetness from Oliver’s garment. He took a long breath; a smile came to his face, before he shook his head and looked down and addressed the smaller man.

“Let’s get you changed.” The statement could have referred to either Oliver’s soiled garments, his clothes, or his new perverted habit.

Oliver did not respond as Ben glided to the edge of the room and turned into the small hospital bathroom. With a flick of a free hand, the room illuminated bright white, revealing white tile and green painted walls. It had an Amazon standard toilet, sink and some handrails, and along the wall was a depositing station for waste products, and another station for new diapers. Ben had left a pile of clothes for Oliver on the counter.

With a flip, Oliver was turned over, and a giant hand pulled the soiled garment off the small man. The whole act was too fast for Oliver to complain, and the shock of the flip kept him only aware of what had happened moments after it was done. With a lack of grace, Ben awkwardly shuffled Oliver into his other arm, and then slowly dropped him onto the toilet. Oliver wobbled precariously on the edge of the padded seat.

“We need to talk about this,” Ben said, holding up the diaper, letting the yellow interior linger in Oliver’s vision for a second before his hands rolled the ball up.

“Um…” Oliver was not sure why Ben was upset; he kept his mouth shut and eyes up at the giant.

“Oliver, I thought you were a big boy,” Ben barely looked at the smaller man, “Did you even try to hold it in?”

“No,” Oliver gave a soft but straight answer.

“I was going to give you a pass, since you’re having a hard day, but I can’t let this stand. Oliver, forgive me but I must do this.” Ben knelt to meet Oliver’s face, and Oliver shrunk back over the hole. A shiver ran through his barely covered body, the cold of the toilet draining him away.

Ben was turning on the voice. He was going to do it. He was going to take away his potty training forever. Diapers forever. Oliver shrunk his eyes, uncertain if he even wanted to fight this.

“That’s fine, whatever you think is best,” Oliver did not even want to look at his friend, surrendering to his fate.

“I’m going to give you a frowny face on your chart when we get back.” Ben said the words seriously, with the slightest hint of reservation on the grounds the punishment might be too far.

Oliver returned his eyesight to the giant, then lifted an eyebrow confused.

“I know it’s hard to keep on top of this when we’re out of the house, but that’s when it’s even more important. You understand, right? What if your mom had seen this? If it had been her that walked in on you while you were going in your diapee. Do you think she’d still want to treat you like a big kid?”

“No,” Oliver was not sure how to take this. On the one hand, Ben was acting like the potty-training chart was the most important thing in the world, but on the other hand, he was absolutely right. Victoria, or any other Amazon, would have ended the bigger kid nonsense right then and there on the sign of the first dirty diaper. Oliver had crossed a line that could have gotten him permanently relegated to baby town.

Ben got up and focused his attention on disposing of the offending garment. He started fumbling with the disposal device, pulling and sliding at the handle, before pausing to start reading the instructions on the obstinate contraption. Oliver took a moment to look down into the waters below, at his own shrunken and dirtied member. The rules are different here. He felt small, like a failure. He looked small. He….

A finger went down below the stomach, inches below the belly button, his fingers came over a small scar that had not been there before the surgery. Oliver quickly stretched out his fingers and compared below.

He was smaller.

Indignant eyes and burning passion turned towards Ben, who had managed to get the disposal system open. It only required unlocking a lever, pulling, inserting, rotating, closing, relocking, and finally flushing. Benjamin was proud of himself for only a second, before Oliver’s angry call brought him down.

“Ben.”

Benjamin looked down at Oliver, the small man had all the power.

“I thought it was just an exploratory surgery,” Oliver was patient in drilling into the man.

Ben fumbled an answer, “It’s technically still in there, just some more on the inside now than the outside.”

Oliver did not care, “I thought you were going to protect me from Vicky.”

“It was… you said Jenny was all over you the other day. You needed a way to get her off you, and you guys….” Ben tried to find an explanation, “You’re kind of like cats, we can’t have you living together and…” Oliver’s eyes narrowed, taking in a large huff, “It’s still fully functional, just you won’t need to… as much.”

Oliver sliced through it, “No… no… no! Jennifer’s the one! Fate! Physics of the multiverse have drawn us together.”

Ben backed up a bit, incredulous, “Oh now she’s the one?” Littles had no fixed perspective, no grounding, in the world. Yesterday she was his sworn enemy, today they were star crossed lovers.

Oliver nodded, “Yes, the photograph! It’s all destiny.”

His new dad could not contain the laugh that followed, “Well now, you’ll just have to woo her with your charming personality and shared interests.”

He did not wait for Oliver’s response, instead reaching over to a hanging set of clothes, and handed Oliver a shirt, then he stood up and brought his attention to the diaper dispenser. A heavy hand lingered over the button for a replacement diaper, and he turned his attention back to Oliver.

“I did all I could today, Oliver. I took you to the one doctor I knew in town who was sympathetic and wouldn’t try to scoop out your brain or shrink your muscles. Your mom is still intent on getting her diaper dork. I don’t know how to stop her.” Benjamin lingered over if he should get a replacement for Oliver’s garment.

The term did not make much sense to Oliver. Did Victoria secretly want to raise some mini-Urkel, or worse, a ‘baby’ Sheldon? Maybe Stewie from Family Guy? He was kind of a baby genius.

“I don’t even know what that is, but can’t she just be happy with me as I am? Isn’t that the whole point of parenthood, to love your children no matter what? Unconditionally? What if I don’t want to be a dork?”

It was an absurd statement. What sort of child, little, had the right to decide to be anything other than what his parents wanted him to be?

With his shirt on, Oliver reached for his glasses, on Oliver’s face were slightly too large, slipping slightly down the nose, “I don’t know, Oliver, but she isn’t going to be happy with you until she gets what she wants.” Ben finally pushed the button, settling on a medium. A plain white garment with two tapes slipped down the dispenser and landed gently in Ben’s hands.

From his thick new glasses, the white button shirt, and finally the fresh diaper, Oliver was close to the ideal vision. Ben wet his hand and gently patted down Oliver’s hair to complete the look. Whatever the opposite of cool was, Oliver had achieved a new mastery.

The small man quietly ignored the transformation, his attention was now focused on solving the problem of the evil stepmother.

* * *

“Theres’ my baby boy,” The voice was too highly pitched and loud, and Victoria practically bull rushed Oliver as he stepped off the elevator into the hospital lobby. Oliver pushed slightly against the tall woman, in a futile attempt to get away. His efforts were rewarded with Victoria holding him away to get a look at him.

“You’re such a brave boy, were you missing mommy?” The tall woman asked the squirming mass she was juggling in her arms.

“Nope.” Victoria loved how cute the boy could be when he was honest and dragged the boy back into her ample bosom. Oliver was not interested in being smothered right now. He pointed towards the ground and made a crying moan. Victoria let the boy on the ground and frowned as he jumped and ran around. Her only comfort coming from a slight ruffle of his hospital provided underwear.

Turning to Ben, her tone returned to normal, “I brought the stroller, in case…” Oliver bounded with new energy bouncing around the giants and looking around the room.

Ben shook his head, “He’s still,” he mouthed a number and held up one set of fingers and then another. She understood what had happened. She had agreed to let Ben make the big decisions before they were married, but she had hoped she had made him see by now that he was wrong. The doctor had sided with the father, despite her suggestions on how to improve their son.

She wanted Oliver to be a baby. A cute little beast who would wobble around the world, excited each day by the most basic of wonders, from the twinkling of a mobile to the sounds of shaking keys. She wanted a baby she could carefully curate and love and play with every day, who needed her but also would only require the barest of commitment and parenting to make him work.

She wanted her baby to be cute. Oliver was not cute.

Oliver was something else, he was bouncing around the hospital lobby, and his adult mind was still there, still calculating,

Victoria took her defeat today poorly, and with bitter direction, she turned to the bouncing boy, “Oliver, get in the stroller. We’re going home.”

Oliver shrugged, then slowly walked his way to the double seated wheeled chairs that were by the entrance of the lobby. As he scrambled into the seat, he noticed Jenny sitting quietly with her small plushy of an aquatic reptile.

Victoria pointed to Ben, her voice going low, “All I wanted for him was to be at his best, to bring him to his point of greatest potential. To make sure things are easy and uncomplicated, without the stress of burdens of his prior world and without the discomfort and fears of this one.”

Ben kept his back straight, and breaths short. “We have duties to him. We owe them a chance to be their best.”

“I want him to be perfect,” Victoria started.

Ben snapped her off, “There’s no perfect life, not on this world, not on a hundred thousand others. Sometimes things are better, and sometimes you get worse.”

Victoria sneered, “You’re wrong Ben. The moment a snowflake hits the ground it’s perfect. The moment before your first kiss. The second before the cast in the mold is broken, and all the flaws are revealed. There is infinite potential. Every day could be new to him, an uneven step into a wide world, and when he falls, I want to be there to catch him.”

“I missed you,” Oliver tried to be diplomatic, wheezing slightly from the difficulty clambering into the mobile seat. He might have been given the vision of giants, but his hearing was as a mouse, barely picking up the fight between Victoria and Ben as a low rumble.

“Uh huh,” Jennifer was disinterested in talking, “Because of your stupid surgery, we had to wait here the whole day, except when we got McLittles. They were out of girl toys.” She reached over to her side and pulled out a small, wheeled racing car the size of hand with an oversized purple plastic person in the cockpit of the vehicle. She waved it in front of Oliver’s eyes. “You can’t have it though.”

Oliver’s voice dropped as low as he dared, “What’d you do with the stuff I gave you?”

She pushed up and leaned over to look at Oliver, “Kept it secret, kept it safe, just like you said. But if you want it back, you’ll have to earn it.”

“That’s fine, name your price, I’m open for…” Oliver had to keep himself from grinding his teeth in frustration as he negotiated with his aunt. He did not get a chance to finish the topic. A giant hand reached into his darkened stroller and placed a thick plastic bottle into his chest. His arms came around to grab the hefty drink that had been filled with plenty of ice and clear water, all topped with a thick nipple.

Oliver shook the drink slightly, and then tried to take the top off, to no avail. Underneath his chair started to push forward. Jennifer giggled as Oliver’s face turned red, struggling to open the drink. Jennifer pushed against the stroller again and leaned over the edge.

The stroller edged out of the hospital and into the parking garage, bringing a hot warm contrast to the cool bright inside. “I want a drink too,” she said flatly to the Amazons pushing her along, her voice on the edge of a whine, or cry, like if she did not get what she wanted she might explode.

Benjamin replied, “No open containers in the car,” oblivious to the time bomb he had just set off.

By the time one is an adult, their tears should have dried up. Jennifer’s face started to sour, huffing in air in preparation for a tantrum, a defense mechanism learned over decades of forced childhood. Within seconds she would yell loud enough to be heard around the parking lot. But before she did, a bottle was in front of her. Two tiny hands had reached over and were pressing it towards her face.

“Hey, it’s fine we can share,” Oliver offered.

Jennifer hesitantly grabbed it, then pouted, “I don’t want your dork cooties…” Her objection did not stop her from bringing the nipple to her mouth or sucking on the cold drink. She chugged the drink and pulled the nipple out. Satisfied, she pushed the slobbering drink back across the barrier and leaned close to whisper to Oliver.

Her demand was simple, “I want in. I want to do all the cool spy stuff too. I want to be a grown-up just like you.”

Oliver nodded, wordless in his acceptance. He took the bottle back and put the slobber covered nipple into his own mouth. Jennifer winced in disgust and pulled away.