The Great Divide

Chapter 1
The Great Divide

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Chapter Description: A story commissioned by bribri666 about a man learning what it takes to fill a little boy's pants. Wait, that sounds bad. Ah, you'll figure it out.

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[size=4][color=#FF0000]This is a commissioned story. If you would like your own commissioned story, check out my info at http://paddedquill.deviantart.com[/color][/size]

There was fire, and there was pain, and then there was nothing. For a while, the nothing was nice, since it meant the absence of the fire and the pain, but soon the nothing was not alone. With the nothing came an odd sense of detachment, a drifting of self from the perception thereof, and the feeling was at first disconcerting, but there in the nothing it grew into a vast, gaping schism. Yet there was still nothing, and so the break from what is and what is thought to be was even more maddening, with no point of reference from ‘outside’ to look in and see what exactly was the cause of the divide. It was maddening, incessant, and threatened to rip down the very fabric of sanity itself.

And then, there was something else, a small tinkling jangle of individual sounds that slowly resolved themselves into a melody, a simple, gentle song that slowly roused Brian out of the pit into which he found himself falling. The light filtering through his closed eyelids was enough to drive away the nothingness he’d known for so long with sharp jabs of very real pain. He moaned and tried to bring a hand up to shield his eyes from the soft light, but something prevented him from doing so. There was a sudden reminder of that mind-wrenching disconnect he’d experienced while floating in the vast nothing from before.

Brian wasn’t sure what had happened, or where he was, or what was going on, but he knew somehow that he wasn’t at home. The last thing he’d remembered was leaving the house, and getting in his car. Then something had happened, and then the nothing. He groaned again, his voice coming out small and odd, not at all how he remembered it, but then again he didn’t really even remember at the moment what he looked like. Or, rather, he did, but there was something not quite right about that memory, as if it were a square block trying to be shoved into a, much smaller, round hole.

Over the sound of what could only be some old styled music box, Brian could hear movement, a swish of cloth on cloth, then a feeling of something looming over him. Instinctively he cringed, still unable to make his body do anything more than twitch, not even able to open his eyes. There was just something not at all right here, but without any point of reference he could not put his finger on just what.

“Oh… oh my…” came a woman’s voice from nearby and above Brian, then the sense of presence moved away, accompanied by gentle yet frantic calls, “Jennifer! Someone call Jennifer! He’s waking up!”

The name didn’t at all ring a bell, but the sound was enough to drive Brian to more moans of sharp pain, stinging at his ears, causing his temples to tense up as he tried to force them away, but that only made it worse. Moaning again, he twitched and tried once more to open his eyes, or move a leg, or do something other than just float in his own head, but nothing came to him. It was all just so wrong and unfamiliar, as if his mind and body had been completely removed from each other, save for his senses.

As soon as he felt the warm hand against his skin, though, he simultaneously cursed and praised even having those. If he’d been in any more control over his muscles, he’d have probably leapt straight out of whatever bed it was he was laying on and ran for the door, so unexpected was it, but at the same time he felt grateful he could even feel anything.

“Don’t worry, Brian, everything will be all right,” that same female voice from before reassured him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, though it felt wrong, “The nurse will be here shortly, and everything will be alright. You just relax, okay?”

As if he could do anything else. But Brian tried, and failed, to nod or respond in any meaningful way, merely moaning again without moving his jaw, a guttural sound at the back of his throat. There was more movement, and another person was obviously standing over him now. He was scared, and with his body out of commission, he was beginning to panic. He could feel the cold sweat against his skin, his heart beating faster, and on top of it his breath was coming shorter, faster now.

A different voice spoke, then, and there was a hand on his forehead, again feeling wrong and out of place somehow, “Shhh… Calm down, Brian, it’s alright. My name is Jennifer, and I’m here to help you.”

The voice was calm and soothing, but it did little to pacify Brian as he struggled, painfully, against the limitations under which he found himself. Again, the voice floated down from above as the hand continued to stroke at his hair.

“Brian, I want you to listen to me,” he was coaxed, “Try to relax and stay calm. You’ve been in an accident, and, well, there was really only one way to save you. Now, I know this sounds odd, but you really need to relax and listen to me.”

This Jennifer was right, it did sound odd. At the mention of being in an accident, Brian’s mind began to race, the possibilities flooding in. He could be paralyzed, which would explain a lot of things, but leave other questions. He could have been in a coma for a long time and his body had atrophied. There was always the possibility of having actually lost a limb or worse. He didn’t want to think about ‘worse’. He wanted explanations, but all he could manage was more twitching and moaning.

“Brian, please,” was the gentle urging, “Please just relax, we’re going to take things one step at a time. You have to get used to this slowly. Relax.”

He tried, and found that he could, actually, relax after a moment. His mind was still reeling with the possibilities that the words presented, unspoken by anyone, but assumed by his current mental state. Even so, he concentrated on calming his breathing, letting his heart slow back to what he could only consider ‘normal’ under the circumstances, and tried to lay still.

Jennifer spoke to him again, “Alright, good. Now, this is going to seem strange, but I need you to try and feel your eyelids. Concentrate on them as they are, not like you think they should be, alright? Then, slowly, when you think you can, open your eyes.”

For a moment Brian just lay there, stunned at this odd request. He had to admit, though, that he hadn’t been doing a lot of concentrating on what felt ‘off’ about himself, just trying all the things he normally would be able to do. On the nurse’s advice, he focused his mind on his eyes, really letting his consciousness absorb the feel of them. They were softer, and definitely felt weaker, but he realized that part of the problem from before was that his brain was sending signals to muscles that didn’t quite work the same as they had. With effort, he felt them out, twitching them, seeing where they were and how they had changed, then slowly opened his eyes.

“See? Now isn’t it that better?” the face hovering above Brian asked, and he nearly blacked out again. The only thing that kept him from falling back into that dark abyssal nothingness was a sudden hand on his shoulder. Or rather, it was on his shoulder, part of his chest, and quite a bit of his upper arm as well, which was the majority of his problem.

Above him, the far away face of the woman whose voice identified her as Jennifer tried to soothe Brian as his mind started to spin, “Calm down, just relax. Stay with us, Brian, we have a lot to tell you and a lot of work to do yet.”

Calming down, he told himself, was not really an option at the current time. Brian had always had trouble staying calm when presented with the impossible, despite it rarely happening, but now was no exception. He could feel, distantly and awkwardly, parts of his body start to tighten and some parts go loose and other parts just not respond in any way at all at the scene before him. Oddly, though, without control over anything his body was doing, Brian had a startling few moments of clarity, not that it helped matters any.

“Now, Brian,” Jennifer was saying, trying to pull his gaze to her own, “I know you’ve got lots of questions, and my guess is that chief among them is going to be ‘why is everything so big’ or, if you’re thinking progressively, ‘why am I so small’. Both are very valid questions, the answers to which are vital for your more speedy recovery.”

Brian moaned again, feeling this strange body in which he found himself starting to calm down slightly at the sound of the woman’s voice, though his heart was pounding against his chest still. She was absolutely right, he did want to know the answers to those questions, and as he tried to force his concerns into words, he was met with a shooting pain through his jaw, temples, and the back of his throat.

“Woah, there, Brian,” she continued on, her hand moving up to stroke at his pained jawline, “Don’t try to talk yet. You’re not nearly ready for that, just now. Let’s start with the basics, okay?”

And so Brian listened to the “basics”, confused, scared, and ultimately stunned into not really knowing what it all meant. The basic gist of what he could gather was that he’d been in some sort of car accident. That much he’d already surmised before he was able to open his eyes, but having that confirmed was oddly comforting.

He also learned that his body had been all but unsalvageable from the wreckage, though he’d still been quite alive when he’d made it to the hospital. In fact, he’d been so far ‘gone’ that the initial examiners had declared that it’d be a miracle if he’d lived through the night. Having very little in the way of family or friends to care for him, however, had made him a prime candidate for a very special test treatment for extreme cases of damage to a person’s body.

“And so,” Jennifer was still explaining, Brian listening intently with a mix of horror and relief flooding through him, “We were able to get a general waiver to try and save your life via radical means. For all intents and purposes, you’ve been declared dead, Brian.”

That news certainly threw him for a loop, so it barely registered to him when her next words fell directly into his audial nerves.

“The process we had to put you through to save your life is a complex mix of bio-molecular restructuring and genetic rewiring designed to revert a body to a healthier version of itself using an outside sequence of RNA to use as a template for whatever parts your own body is lacking. You’re in the, well, ‘clinical trial’ as it were, so we’re working on flushing out all the variables of the procedure, but so far it has proven, in your case, to be a complete success, if a little more than we bargained for.”

The woman must have seen the questions in Brian’s look as he tried, and again failed painfully, to ask all the questions he had pent up inside. None of this made any sense, nor did it mesh with anything that he saw around him. This was all just too out there, too bizarre to be in any way comforting.

“Shhh,” Jennifer said, gently pressing a hand to his lips as he let out another pained moan, “You’ll get there. For now, just know that essentially your body has been ‘reset’ to a time of about, oh, say, when you were three years old, maybe a little younger, we’re not really one hundred percent sure yet.”

The nurse laughed nervously, running her fingers across Brian’s brow, “To be really honest, we weren’t sure what ‘age’ you’d end up, dear, since this is our first real test on a human subject. You just happened to be in the right place for us, meeting all the prerequisites we needed.”

Again, Brian nearly blacked out from the sheer shock of what had been said to him. At least now, though, the pastel walls, childish stencil patterns, and the crib he was laying in all seemed to make a lot more sense, if they’d somehow actually turned him back into a toddler. Again he tried to speak, and again was met with the resistance of pain as his jaw tightened in an unfamiliar, unnatural way.

Jennifer shook her head and tried to massage Brian’s cramping jaw again, “Calm down, we’ll get to all of that soon enough. For now, you’ve probably got a lot to think about, and you need rest. Tomorrow, we start on our rehabilitation and physical therapy sessions.”

There wasn’t much arguing with that, really, since any sound he could muster would just be an incoherent moan. That, and Brian was actually quite tired and worn out. Even just listening to this strange nurse or doctor or whatever she was had sent him into a bit of a stupor. His mind was racing with thoughts and questions and worries and reliefs and it was all a bit overwhelming. Somewhere, as if from a long distance, he could feel a few tears rolling down his cheeks, and he managed a weak sniffle.

With a swipe of a finger to remove the moisture from his face, Jennifer turned to the other nurse, the nameless one from earlier who had called her in, and they spoke briefly, a few gestures in his direction. Afterwards, Jennifer returned her attentions to Brian.

“Alright, Brian, we’re going to let you sleep and rest now. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, and we’ll see just what we can do to get you feeling better, okay? Now, Christie here is going to take care of you through the night, so if you need her, just make some sort of sound and she’ll be here.”

If he could have nodded, Brian would have, and as Jennifer’s face moved out of his range of vision, Nurse Christie’s came into view, a pleasant smile on her face as well. Out of the corner of his eye, through the bars of the hospital crib, he could see her reaching for something, but he couldn’t make out what.

She smiled as she spoke, “Well, then, let’s get you cleaned and sorted so you can rest easily, hmm?” her voice hinting at a faint Irish accent as she worked.

There was a wash of cold over his skin as she moved to pull the blankets off of him, and Brian let out a little uncontrollable shiver. What came next, however, was jarring enough to shake his thoughts into a more real understanding of his predicament. There was the sounds of what could only be tape being pulled apart from whatever it was sticking to, and then things got a lot colder below the waist.

Soon, Brian was staring at what could only be his own, spindly, childish legs as his feet were lifted, his bottom given a twice over with a cold, soft, sweet smelling wet wipe, and then all he could see was the black behind his eyelids as he managed to shut them. Unfortunately, blocking out the sight of the fresh diaper being taped around his hips didn’t block out the feel or the scent of same, and Brian only prayed that sleep came quickly so that he could lose himself in that black nothingness.

***

True to her word, Jennifer returned the next morning, or what Brian assumed was morning, and immediately started in with what she was calling ‘physical therapy’. What it really was, Brian soon found out, was more or less having to re-learn his own body. Except that it wasn’t, but he couldn’t really quite put a finger on what it was that was different.

“Alright, first we need to get you talking again, Brian,” she had said following yet another diaper change, something Brian was highly embarrassed about, yet unable to muster any sort of response to at the time.

“Remember when you learned to open your eyes yesterday?” the pretty nurse asked, taking a seat next to the lowered rail of the crib, “Well, we’re going to start doing that with the rest of you, starting with your mouth, tongue, lips and other facial muscles. This is the most important, because we need to start getting solid foods into you as soon as possible.”

This sounded fine to Brian, and so with some coaxing, he was eventually able to move his jaw, his tongue, and basically control himself enough to start making coherent sounds. After a while, he was able to start making more distinct sounds, then blurred and slurred words, and eventually he felt ready to start actually speaking. Slowly, and with much concentration, Brian began to form some words.

“What…. Is going…on?” he asked, forcing his muscles to try and enunciate the sounds, with his reward being more cramping of his jaw and pain along his neck muscles. Jennifer noticed this, and immediately started trying to massage his face.

“I already told you, honey,” she cooed, smiling as she tried to ease his discomfort, “And don’t try to move so fast there, Brian. You’ll get back to talking normally soon, but for now just try simple, small words, and don’t be worried about if you can’t pronounce them correctly. We’ll get your meaning, but you have to get used to your new muscles slowly.”

Brian couldn’t accept that. He wasn’t going to spend any time babbling like a toddler if he could help it, so he tried again.

“I’m sorry, but…” he tried, more pain shooting through his already taxed muscles, and he finished his statement with a weak moan, his small voice coming out as a little cry.

Again Jennifer tried to sooth his pains with her probing, relaxing fingers, easing his muscles back to a more relaxed, comfortable state.

“Hmm… Maybe we should stop with talking for the day and move on to getting you more mobilized, hmm?”

The next couple of hours were just that, with Brian keeping his mouth sulkily shut as the nurse walked him through a few exercises to get more accustomed to the rest of his body. By lunch time, Brian was sitting up on his own and shifting around on the mattress, which brought him absolutely no end of joy at finally being able to do something other than lay in the overly padded crib. It also afforded him a more complete view of his surroundings and his body, which indeed looked a lot like the sort of body a toddler would have. The room was a basic hospital room, though with a few splashes of color to help make things a little less jarring for the children who would normally be occupying it. The walls were a pastel blue with pink and green stenciled animals all along them, and there was a very plush rocking chair in one corner. The crib that Brian had been spending his time in was pushed nearly against one wall, and there were several pieces of medical monitoring equipment half tucked away behind the headboard, out of sight of anyone laying inside.

One of the first orders of business as soon as he could use his arms for grabbing was to immediately try to wrap himself up in one of the crib blankets, as Brian found that he was still unclothed much as he had been the day before. Well, mostly unclothed, save for the generic disposable diaper secured over his loins, complete with patterns very nearly matching those painted on the walls here. Despite his reduced stature, he found that he was extremely self-conscious at being seen in such a manner by Nurse Jennifer.

The pair were just getting done with an interesting lesson of ‘push the ball across the crib’ when the other nurse from previously entered the room pushing a small, steel, sterilized cart. It took a moment for Brian to remember her name as Christie, but once he did he figured he’d show off a bit by waving to her.

“Hello, Christie!” Brian said, trying not to wince at the pain it cost him to enunciate clearly.

As Jennifer turned to greet the woman as well, Christie chuckled some, “Talking and moving around already, are we? That’s good to see!”

There was a shared chuckle between the women, and Jennifer nodded, “Oh, well, mostly. The talking is going to take some getting used to, it seems, but he’s moving well enough. Was even thinking of taking him out walking after lunch and his nap.”

“That’s excellent to hear!” Christie beamed, clapping as she brought her cart to a halt near the crib, “And I’ve got just the thing to get our new little guy up on his feet in no time.”

At this, Brian suddenly found that he’d garnered enough control to actually roll his eyes at the way the women were talking about him, but the smells wafting over from the cart brought a rumble to his stomach. Eagerly, he tried to lean forward to get a clearer look at what food had been brought, forgetting his blanket as he shifted, leaving his diapered rear fully exposed.

“Oh?” Jennifer asked, smiling over at Brian in his cute little diaper, noting that some of the prints had faded through his legs, “And what’s on the menu for today, hmm?”

“Well, I dinna know what he’d be able to manage yet,” Christie replied, her accent slipping through a bit more than before, “So I brought a variety of things. Here we’ve got some beef stew, easy for chewing and definitely filling. We’ve also got a grilled cheese sandwich, minus crusts, and, well, just in case, a couple of jars of Gerber’s best.”

The lids came off of the cart, and Brian’s ‘new’ nostrils were assaulted by the scents of the various dishes, save for the two closed jars of baby food sitting off to one side. A small bit of spittle rolled out of the corner of his lips, and he wiped at it, amazed at how natural his movements were becoming, even if they were a little awkward still. Jennifer had explained during his ‘exercises’ that even once he got control of his muscles, he was still technically a three year old, so there was a bit of development his body had yet to go through.

Christie noticed the look on the boy’s face, and smiled. Jennifer did as well, and seemed to take her time looking over the choices.

“Well?” she asked, putting a hand around Brian’s shoulders, “What do you think you can handle, Brian?”

Quickly, Brian raised his hand and pointed at the thick beef stew, and momentarily forgot to concentrate on his speech, “Dat one!”

With a chuckle, Jennifer nodded. “That one it is, then. Looks like I’m having grilled cheese, hmm? Christie?”

“Yes ‘m?” the red haired nurse inquired, pushing the cart into an easier position for the two to reach.

“Bring one of the prepared bottles for Brian?” she asked, and quickly noticed the boy’s indignant expression, turning to him to explain as Christie hurried from the room, “You’ve been making good progress, I know, but let’s not kid ourselves. You’re not at all ready to drink from a glass yet, and likely won’t be for months at least. For now, bottles will be best, don’t you agree?”

Of course he didn’t, but he also wasn’t in a position to argue the point, either, so he merely sighed and nodded, turning his attentions back to the bowl of stew instead. He shifted across the mattress to the edge of the bars, one hand reaching out for the spoon next to the very clinical hospital bowl, only to have it plucked away at the last moment.

“Hey!” he protested, turning awkwardly to look at Jennifer, ending up slumping clumsily over onto his side in the crib as the blanket shifted under his weight, “I wan’ eat!”

“Hmm?” Jennifer raised one bemused eyebrow.

Brian shook his head and tried to concentrate, speaking more clearly, and unfortunately, painfully, “I want to feed myself.”

The nurse tilted her head to one side, and smiles a little, “Well, you’ve been very good about the idea of your bottle, so I suppose we can try and see how well you handle eating. Try not to make too much of a mess, alright?”

As soon as she had extended the spoon to within his shortened arms range of motion, Brian snagged the spoon and turned back to the tray, sitting as close as he could before bumping into the lip of the crib. Carefully, as much as he could, he began to spoon small bits of the stew, one piece at a time, into his mouth. Every drop of juice reminded him to be as careful as possible, and in his focus, he lost track of time, eventually having had his fill.

Looking up, satisfied with his meal and his stomach as full as he could remember, though he found his physical memories of his old body fading quickly, Brian saw Christie and Jennifer both smiling at him oddly. He looked between the two of them, then down at himself, seeing his chest, thighs, and the front of his diaper spattered with beef juice. Figuring this was the reason for their amusement, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked way.

“No funny.” He muttered, again avoiding the pain of proper enunciation.

Christie actually had to turn her back to avoid laughing at the poor boy, but Jennifer simply smiled, picking up a napkin off of the tray and beginning to wipe at Brian to clean him up. As she did so, he spotted a clear glass baby bottle that had appeared on the tray, a bit of fog around the glass near the top of the bottle, promising a warm liquid on the inside. It didn’t quite look like milk, though it was a somewhat familiar off white color, but not the pure white of milk as he remembered it.

“What’s… that?” he winced through the pain, pointing at the bottle as Jennifer gave his legs the once over.

“Oh, that’s just a good protein mix to help your body get accustomed to the changes. Don’t worry, the taste will grow on you.”

As she cleaned him up, Jennifer also gently was moving him back to a laying position, his head propped up on the pillows. Once he was settled without complaint, she reached for the bottle and pressed it gently to his lips.

“Drink up, Brian, then get a little bit of rest. When you wake up, we’ll see if you’re ready for walking.”

Cheeks red, he took the nipple of the bottle into his lips and found that the liquid inside had warmed the soft rubber, making it easy and natural for his lips to attach and begin suckling. Amazed, Brian realized that he hadn’t actually consciously commanded any of his mouth’s reaction to happen, but it had merely taken over on its own accord. Apparently his rejuvenated body also had rejuvenated instincts, but he found that nursing at the nipple was by far the easiest, least stressful and painful thing he’d done all day so far.

Smiling, Jennifer took one of Brian’s hands and brought it up to hold the bottle on his own, noticing that he was actually a bit reluctant to do so, but he did. Then, while he was distracted, she moved a little bit and set about the task of changing the boy’s wet diaper, keeping a close eye on his reaction to this, and seeing nothing other than his concentration on drinking. Confidently, reassured, she made short work of the change.

Of course Brian was aware of what was happening with his lower body. How could he not be when she lifted his legs off of the soiled diaper, applied the cool baby wipes, and then re-diapered him? It wasn’t exactly something he could ignore, but he blocked it out by concentrating on drinking. Despite being full from the soft stew, he found that he was still quite thirsty, and despite the warning from the woman now securing his infantile garment, it tasted very natural. Not excellent, but right somehow. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but thinking about it let him ignore the fact that not once all morning had Jennifer said anything about relearning how to hold his bladder, and all attempts at ‘feeling out’ his muscles there had failed.

“Alright, Brian,” Jennifer cooed, giving his clean diaper a gentle pat as she moved to raise the rail of the crib again, “You rest up, and after your nap we’ll work on walking a little bit. If you take to it well enough, then we’ll likely have you out of the hospital in a few days, alright?”

Worn out from his progress in the morning, Brian nodded, careful not to interrupt the flow of the bottle into his mouth, and closed his eyes. He heard the faint ‘CLICK’ as the crib locked back into place, then the warm softness of the blanket being pulled over his body again. A gentle swish of movement that quickly faded, and then he was alone with his bottle. From somewhere nearby, he could hear some soft music playing, and he squirmed around in the soft bedding, reminding himself of how far he’d come in just a few hours from his immobility of the day before.

***

As Jennifer was pulling the t-shirt over his head, preparing Brian to go out for a little walk, a sudden thought occurred to him. After his nap, he’d been woken up by the sound of someone in the room with him, it being Nurse Christie cleaning up after lunch. He’d obviously been asleep for a while, as what was left of the stew no longer looked at all appetizing as the woman smiled at him and wheeled it away. The next few minutes he’d spent exploring the inside of the hospital crib, crawling around and even trying to stand up, managing to get on his knees just in time for Jennifer to enter holding a piece of cloth and smiling at him.

“How… long was I out?” he said, fresh pains stinging at his throat and jaw as he forced the mature speech patterns through, causing him to wince.

Jennifer finally got the shirt into place, making sure the lap shoulders were set correctly, “Hmm? Oh, only about a week or so, why?”

The fact that he couldn’t think of why this bothered him struck Brian. He shook his head and tried to speak again, this time relaxing his tongue and mouth a little to avoid the brunt of the pain, “No reason, jus’ wonderin’.”

There was a little pause from Jennifer as she quirked an eyebrow at the way the boy was letting himself go, reverting to a slightly less adult way of speaking, and a smile spread over her face, though she quickly hid it by moving behind Brian and lifting him from the crib under his arms.

“Alright, ups we go! We’re going to try and get you walking again,” she chirped, leaning over to let Brian’s bare feet hit the floor, which was surprisingly warm.

Suddenly, Brian realized something, and started kicking his legs awkwardly, nearly bringing the both of them down.

“Pan’s!” he urged, squirming a bit, suddenly aware of his diaper crinkling loudly, and more importantly, uncovered. He stopped wriggling, putting all of his concentration into his speech. “I… need pants!” he gasped against the pain.

Jennifer’s voice came back a little strained at trying to keep him standing, “For what? To trip over if you step wrong? I’m sorry, but you need to learn to walk without them first, then we’ll find you something to wear, alright?”

“Buh…!” Brian balked, aware that he was about to be walked out into the hospital in nothing but a t-shirt and a diaper.

With a sigh, Jennifer knelt beside Brian, pulling him up onto her knee to try and calm him down, “Brian, I understand your concern, but trust me when I say that no one at all is going to even think twice of you being in a diaper. I told you yesterday, your body is only two, maybe three years old, max. It’s natural, and you need them, and you have to learn to walk.”

Brian whined and squirmed a moment later, but found he didn’t have the energy at the moment for a prolonged fight, so he simply sighed heavily and nodded.

“Good,” Jennifer smiled, and slowly let Brian back down on his own feet, standing, yet still holding onto his hands, keeping them above his head.

Once he seemed steady, she began to urge Brian forward, “Alright, honey, one step at a time. You can do it, just concentrate on the muscles for now, doing the motions. I won’t let you fall, alright?”

Brian didn’t know how reassured he was about this, but he looked down at his feet past the plastic and pastel covering of the diaper, and focused. One step at a time, he told himself, and slowly he raised one awkward leg, aided by not having to be concerned about his footing or balance, and started to move forward. There was a loud ‘slap’ of bare skin on the tiled floor as he leaned forward to put the foot he’d raised down, nearly falling over, but caught by Jennifer’s hands around his.

“Woops!” she said, a laugh in her voice, “Don’t forget to bend your other knee, Brian. Take your time, you have to walk before you can run.”

With a grumble at having to be reminded how to even walk, Brian began again, locking his knee of his forward foot and pulling his other in front of it, making sure to bend the other’s knee at the right moment so as to not stagger forward. It was still a little awkward, but smoother than his first step, and his third was smoother even than the second. Soon Brian found himself moving forward at quite the clip, tilting from side to side, but Jennifer’s comforting hands were always there to hold him up.

“Alright, Brian, slow down or we’ll miss our stop!” the nurse laughed, pulling back slightly on his arms, nearly taking him off his feet.

Brian looked up, confused about what she could be talking about, realizing they had made it quite a good ways down the hall and had come up in front of a brightly colored door, the words ‘Playroom’ stenciled across the front. Quizically he looked up at Jennifer, confused as why they’d be coming here.

“Don’t you… think I’m a little… old… to be … playing…” he managed to say, the familiar cramps contorting his face into a grimace of pain as he tried to sound as adult as possible.

The nurse shook her head and sighed, kneeling down next to Brian again, “You need to stop pushing yourself like that,” she said, rubbing the boy’s cheek, “You’ll end up doing some permanent damage to your muscles if you don’t learn to relax a little.”

This obviously wasn’t what Brian wanted to hear, and he opened his mouth to ask again why they were here, but he was cut off by Jennifer reaching up and easing the door open.

“And we’re not here to play,” she said, easing Brian inside gently, “We’re here because the carpet is extra padded, so you can get a bit of practice walking on your own, getting your balance back.”

True to her word, the carpet was quite a bit thicker here, littered with a few childish toys, some activity tables along one wall, and the center of the room dominated by a small indoor play structure with a short slide, climbing ramp, and even a pair of baby swings. Brian was a little surprised at this, though he quickly realized that this was more than just a playroom, as there was a wall-length two-way mirror on the wall nearest the play tables, and he decided it was mostly an observation room for recovering children.

He turned his eyes up to his nurse, questioningly, “No one else?” he asked, using the simple words to avoid the pain.

Jennifer shook her head and patted him on the back, nearly costing him his balance, as she urged him into the room, “That wouldn’t really work for you re-learning your walking, what with kids bumping into you and all. I blocked this time off today so you can just get used to how your body feels on its own.”

Unsteadily, Brian tried his feet at walking across the plush carpet, taking small, tentative steps towards the activity tables. Jennifer kept close to his side, just in case, which was a good thing as she managed to help avoid a couple of close calls on some bad spills. As soon as they were at the nearest table, however, she took a seat and gave Brian’s diapered rear a little gentle pat.

“Alright, your turn to do it on your own, okay? Don’t worry, if you get hurt, we’re right here in a hospital,” and she laughed, though the joke didn’t at all reassure Brian, who clung to the edge of the table as if for dear life.

Jennifer gently tried to pry his fingers off, “Go on. You’re never going to improve if you don’t try, Brian.”

Muttering, Brian started to move away, arms out at his side to help correct his balance, straining to maintain control over his legs. He managed a few steps and started to teeter over, yelping loudly as he plopped onto the floor, knees first.

“Are you..?” Jennifer asked, but stopped when she saw her charge struggling to his feet again, pushing his rear up in the air first, then bending his knees and doing something she’d not expected quite yet, though it was inevitable. It was the sag and smell that gave it away, and thinking back, he had eaten quite a bit at lunch, so she figured it made sense. Amazingly, the boy didn’t seem to notice in the least.

Concentrating as he was on getting back to his feet, Brian ignored everything else in the room, slowly pushing the muscles around his thighs and knees, demanding them to lift his body steadily, slowly, and soon he was standing again. He felt his feet adjust slightly to counteract his weight shifting as he stood, and he tried to relegate that to an automatic process consciously, finding that once his mind had accepted that these were no longer the well-coordinated adult feet he’d once been graced with, things started to go smoother.

Hesitantly, he began to walk forward once more, arms slightly extended until he felt comfortable with how his legs were moving. He lowered them slowly, ready to use them for balance at a moment’s notice. Dimly he was aware of some change in how he’d been walking before, a difference that he couldn’t quite put a finger on, but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of his triumph. Confidently, he toddled across the playroom to the baby swings, feeling a giggle well up in his belly and pour out of his mouth as he came without arm’s reach of them.

“Jen’fer!” he cheered, forgetting to try and put effort into speaking like an adult, “I did’t! Walked!” he informed her, even as he started to turn for the journey back to the table.

To the nurse, the next few seconds all seemed to happen in slow motion. She smiled at Brian’s elation at the simple joy of walking, and saw him start to spin around to come back. She also saw his foot not quite moving the way he’d likely intended in his joyous distraction. She saw him start to teeter as he tripped over the back of his own heel, one hand reaching out for, and missing, the relative stability of the safety swing. She watched him start to fall forwards, then wave his arms and reverse the direction of his fall, his knees giving way, and finally she saw him collapse straight down onto his freshly dirtied rear with a loud ‘FMPH’.

As he hit the ground, Brian felt something under him, between the diaper and his skin, give way and start to press wetly and stickily to his bottom. Jarred from his celebration at having walked halfway across the room, his concentration suddenly turned to his diaper, and the feeling inside of it. Slowly, he looked down, not sure what he’d find and surprised to find only a few of his pastel wetness shapes missing from between his spread thighs. He shifted a little to try and see what he might have sat on, but saw nothing there, either, though he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He hadn’t felt much pain as he fell, but he’d been seen by someone, and that was a little humiliating.

Brian’s eyes, however, failed him in locating the source of the odd, somewhat uncomfortable feeling around his rear, which brought more tears and a feeling of dread. Where his eyes, failed, however, his nose picked up the slack, and as he sniffled to try and hold back the emotions he felt, he caught a whiff of what he was sitting in, and then completely lost it. Somewhere in his still adult mind, he knew that this was inevitable, but that didn’t soften the blow to his ego as he squirmed around in his messy diaper, crying loudly and holding his arms out for something, anything, to grab onto.

The little boy’s clutching hands soon found something soft and warm to close around, and he felt himself lifted into a comforting, soft, soothing embrace. There was a hand under his bottom, and one on his back, holding him close and stroking his shoulders comfortingly as he cried out his discomfort and shame into whoever it was.

“Shh, calm down, honey, shhh…” was Jennifer’s soothing litany, repeated with some variation as she rocked and cajoled the poor boy until his crying was nothing more than a whimper, “It’s alright, it was going to happen sometime, you’re okay, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Each sniffle was an aromatic reminder of his condition, but the soft words, warm body, and gentle scent of Jennifer as she held him close calmed Brian down considerably as the initial shock of his accident began to wear off. He didn’t know how much time he spent just clinging to that lifeline, she was giving him, but he felt himself draining quickly, crying out all his fears and frustrations and uncertainties into the woman’s chest as she held him tightly. Dimly, he was aware that she was humming a familiar song, the same he’d heard the night before as he drifted off to sleep, and this was comforting as well, relaxing.

Once his tears had stopped and Brian was simply holding on to her, Jennifer moved slowly back over to the activity table, easing her patient down onto the plastic protected surface gently, so as to not startle him again. He looked up at her with vulnerable, frightened eyes, and she smiled right back into them, reassuringly.

“It’s alright, honey, I’ll get you cleaned up, and then we’ll try walking some more if you feel like it, alright?” she cooed, reaching for the nearby supply cubby and retrieving what her experience and hospital policy assured her would be there.

Brian rubbed at his runny nose, his face a mess of red, tear-stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and scraggly, matted hair. All he could manage was a weak, “’kay…” as the woman started to change his diaper once more.

Not wanting to watch her work on his shameful mess, he turned his head, staring directly at their reflection in the two way mirror. Brian was about to turn the other way, feeling seeing it happen in the reflection wasn’t any better than looking at it directly, when an odd detail caught his eye. Carefully, he reached up and plucked at his hair, and opened his eyes wider to see what they looked like in the mirror. Then he turned to the woman who was currently pulling his messy diaper from between his legs, wipe at the ready. As she pushed his legs up in the air, his curiosity bubbled over.

“Jennifer?” he asked, making sure to pronounce the name correctly, even through the pain, “My hair… wasn’t brown… before. It was blonde. And my eyes were green, too.” He said, letting the question hang in the air.

Jennifer paused in her wiping, glancing over at the mirror as well, for a moment, then she turned back and smiled at Brian, continuing where she left off with her diligent cleaning.

“Well, Brian,” she began, smiling warmly, not sure how the boy was going to take the news, “Remember how I told you yesterday that the process needed a strand of RNA to make it work correctly?”

The boy nodded, squirming as the cold wipe took away the warm mush on his rear.

Jennifer continued, setting the soiled wipe inside the similarly soiled diaper, “Well, that strand of RNA was donated by me. That means your new body has half of my genes in it.”

The look of confusion on Brian’s face was interesting, as she was sure he’d had to know how genetics worked, but as Jennifer reached for the baby powder, she realized that he’d probably be not in a state of mind currently to put two and two together.

“The long and short of it, dear,” she said, calmly and softly, so as to not startle the poor boy as she powdered his recently cleaned cheeks, “Is that for all intents and purposes, I’m your mommy. Sort of. Genetically speaking, anyway.”

Brian’s eyes opened wider at that statement, and he began to squirm even as Jennifer held his ankles tightly to slide the fresh diaper beneath him.

“Buh dat’s… I… yous… Nnnn!” he protested, again forgetting himself and letting his more ‘natural’ speech patterns come out, ending in a childish whine of confusion and unease.

Jennifer let out a sigh as she pulled the clean diaper up and brought the tapes, one at a time, over his hips, “I said only technically, Brian. Genetically. The material had to come from somewhere, and we couldn’t find any female members of your family to work with. That’s part of the reason we chose you for this.”

Brian stopped his whining and squirming as that sank in, and he realized it was true. He didn’t have any living female relatives, or any male ones he’d want to associate with, either. He calmed down, then, chewing gently on his bottom lip as he considered. After a moment, feeling the fresh, clean, soft diaper across his bottom and the gentle patting of it as Jennifer seemed to be waiting for some sort of response, he figured if he had to have someone’s genes inside him, hers were far from the worst out there.

“’Kay…” he said, gingerly, bringing a wide smile to Jennifer’s face. She was on him in a flash, blowing a raspberry on his exposed stomach and causing him to involuntarily giggle loudly, kicking his feet and squirming on the tabletop.

When she finally let up, Jennifer smiled and let Brian calm down. “Alright, well, let’s get some more walking out of you, then we’ll let you back to your room and I will personally give you a proper bath,” she announced, helping him to his feet to practice his walking yet again, his mind happy at the prospect of getting cleaned up afterwards, especially his rear, which still felt oddly off even after a thorough diaper change.

***

Later that night, after a dinner with Nurse Christie which had consisted of a tasteless soup, some bread and another bottle of that strange milk (packed with special anti-bodies and vitamins, he was told), Brian lay in his crib as the soft music pumped into the room from somewhere eased his mind. The rail was up, and there was something making slow, pretty patterns on the ceiling above him, captivating his mind.

True to her word, Jennifer had let him practice walking more on his own, for a good two hours or so, before carrying him back to the hospital room and giving him a rather soothing and luxurious bath in the rather sterile and Spartan bathroom attached to the main hospital room. After wards, she’d helped him into another diaper and t-shirt, and let him watch TV in the crib while she read quietly in the big rocking chair across the room.

Many times he found himself looking over towards her, mulling over what she had told him in the playroom. Brian didn’t really know exactly how he felt about having her as a new ‘mother’, genetically, but so far things seemed to be working out alright. She seemed to genuinely care for his well-being, and he genuinely was starting to like her presence more and more. There was something about her that just made him feel secure whenever she was around, so when she’d left to find dinner on her own as Christie had wheeled in his supper, he’d been more than a little disappointed.

Regardless, he’d not let it show, and so now Brian found himself warm, safe, comfortable and somewhat content in the hospital crib, drifting in and out of sleep as the last few fingers of light faded over the horizon outside.

Later, and he didn’t know how much later, Brian was awakened by the sound of the crib bars being slowly lowered, as if the person doing it didn’t want to wake him. At first, he pretended to be asleep, but his body betrayed him and he squirmed as he felt a pair of fingers pressing against his protected bottom, and he rolled over, rubbing at his eyes. In the dim light put off by the monitoring equipment, he saw Jennifer’s face, and smiled a little.

“Shhh…” she nearly whispered to him, reaching into the crib and gathering him up, blankets and all, “I thought maybe you’d be a little thirsty…” she said, holding him close, wrapped securely and snuggly in the crib’s fleece bedding.

Brian nodded, feeling a bit parched, and he could see clearly that the clock on the machines was proclaiming it to be two in the morning. He’d been asleep for nearly six hours, and hadn’t had anything to drink since dinner.

Jennifer’s voice was musical, even whispered as she eased herself into the rocking chair, adjusting something as Brian closed his eyes and opened his mouth in anticipation of another bottle, “Good boy, I’ll take care of that.”

The teat that entered his mouth wasn’t rubber, Brian realized sleepily after a couple of exploratory suckles, and he could feel Jennifer’s warm skin and the smell of her against his skin. He opened his eyes a little wider in surprise, staring straight at the side of the woman’s breast.

“Bah… bah…” He tried, his relaxed and mostly still sleep-slowed body managed to get out, and he found as soon as his lips parted, Jennifer had replaced her nipple between them, and his body once again took over, latching on and nursing as she reassured him.

“Yes, honey, bottle,” she practically hummed, starting to rock gently, “This is where your baba milk comes from. From mommy.”

Stunned, but tired and thirsty, Brian couldn’t keep himself from his nursing, only managing a gentle squirming as his adult brain tried to scream at him that this was wrong. His child’s body, a body that was as much her offspring as it could be, had other ideas, and the wash of pleasant feelings that rolled over him as it bonded with its mother via this natural way of feeding washed his struggles completely out of his mind. Without thinking about it, he worked one hand free from the blanket he was wrapped in, clutching weakly to the breast, feeling her warm, familiar skin and satisfying a deep seated, physical urge he didn’t even know this new body was craving.

Jennifer kept talking to him through all of this, rocking gently and patting his back slowly as he drank, “That’s a good boy, yes you are. And in a couple of days, mommy is going to take you home with her, and you’ll be her bestest little boy ever.”

Again a stab of uncertainty ran through Brian’s mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. The nearly infantile enjoyment of being this close to his body’s parent pushed a rationalization of its own into his thoughts. Sure, she may not be his real mother, but it seems he wasn’t in any position to care for himself fully, yet, so until then, what would be the harm?

And so, there in the small hours of the morning, Nurse Jennifer fed Brian until he was full, telling him what a good boy he was, and how she’d arranged to adopt him after his stat in the hospital was over. All of this he registered, but filed away discreetly for future processing, just enjoying this close, warm feeling of untainted caring of a mother for her child. Sort of.

***

“I ganna be Batmans!”

Jennifer covered her mouth to keep from laughing as she watched Brian play with a couple of the other children in the hospital’s play room. Of course the other toddlers he was with didn’t really have a firm grasp on who Batman was, but they were just having fun, Brian especially. The last few days he’d gotten most of his muscle control back, save for his potty control, and he’d found it much easier to slip into a more toddler-like speech pattern, since trying to force his under developed muscles to speak in an adult way still caused him quite a bit of pain. He’d come a long way, really, and now he was enjoying himself.

“Wassa Batmans?” one of the other kids asked, looking at the symbol Brian had on his little pair of overalls, a childish Batman symbol. Jennifer had picked those out earlier that week, not knowing if he’d be a fan of the character, but happy that he was now that she saw his cute little self in them.

“Batmans is da bestest ever!” Brian was explaining, waving his arms around and nearly losing his balance for it, “He’s got wings anna cape anna cah’ anna stuffs!”

Watching from the other side of the two-way mirror, Jennifer couldn’t help but show a little smile.

“Taking him home today, I hear?” came a slightly Irish accented voice from behind her. Jennifer didn’t even look around.

“That’s the plan, yeah. What do you think?” she asked Christie as she sipped from her coffee cup again.

The other nurse moved up beside her coworker, “I think you should probably tell him sooner rather than later, honestly. Despite everything, he’s still an adult, and the wee lad has a right to know.”

Jennifer sighed and nodded, “You’re right, I know, and I will. I just… want to enjoy this. You know how long I’ve wanted a kid, and this project was the best opportunity for that. Let me have a few weeks, maybe a couple of months before I break the news.”

“Are you thining by that time he won’t care?” Christie asked, a bit of a chuckle in her voice, “Don’t think I haven’t seen what ya’ve been doin’ with him at nights. And don’t ya think I haven’t seen how he feels about it. I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna care either way.”

Jennifer turned a raised eyebrow to the red haired woman next to her, “You… know about that?”

The Irish nurse shook her head, “Hard not to find out when you’re only pumping enough for a few bottles a day. I don’t see any harm in it, but don’t let the docs know he was getting it from the source, or they’ll scream bloody contamination. As if they know what’s good for mother and babe.”

“Heh,” Jennifer chuckled, “Thanks for not blowing my cover there.” Then she sighed and sat her coffee cup down.

“I’m scared, though. What if he takes the news badly? What if he demands.. something? To be taken away? To live on his own? I don’t know if I could deal with that.”

There was a reassuring pat on her shoulder, and Jennifer looked back out at Brian where he was playing with the other children, ‘woosh’ing around the room with his arms spread wide, smiling as he paused for a few conspicuous moments, looking lost in thought before continuing on.

“He’ll be fine. Those tests aren’t conclusive, you know that. I’m sure it’s just a lingering side effect of the process. He’ll be growing again in no time, just like a weed, and you’ll have a little boy on your hand instead of a wee tot.”

“I dunno,” Jennifer said, having seen the charts for herself. She knew that over the last few days they’d been monitoring cellular reproduction and growth in Brian very closely, and as of yet had found no signs that his new body was getting any older, not even a little bit.

She turned and smiled at Christie, “Maybe you’re right,” she said, but even she could hear how unconvincing she sounded as the words rolled off of her tongue, “But until then, thanks for agreeing to babysit. He loves your accent.”

“Ah, yes, everyone does,” Christie winked, “It’s how I get away with so much around here! Now, I’ve got to go fill out your release papers, and you’ve got a little boy to gather up and get home. See you at the front desk?”

“Sure thing!” Jennifer said, smiling at the understanding between the two. She took one more drink of her coffee, tossed the cup, and moved out of the viewing room and to the playroom door.

“Brian!” She called over the din and noise, and was greeted by a solid thump of the boy against her legs, grinning up at her.

“Not Brian!” he exclaimed, trying to put on a serious face, “Am Batmans!”

She couldn’t help herself, then, and let out a loud, throaty laugh, reaching down to pick Brian up to her hip, sniffing the air, confirming what she thought she’d seen earlier, “Alright, then Batmans, do you know what day it is?”

The child in her arms nodded furiously, “Uh huh, huhuh! I getsa go home! Bye bye hos’pittle!” he said waving at the others in the room.

“That’s right,” Jennifer smiled at him, “So let’s get you home, hmm?”

Stepping outside into the corridor, Jennifer turned and lowered her little patient into the waiting stroller, half smiling at the look on his face as he once again found out the hard way that he’d made a mess, and half dreading getting him cleaned up later. Brian was suddenly quite unhappy, having not liked messing himself since that first time, though he did accept that it was going to happen. Usually at least twice a day.

“Nah uh! Wanna walk! Can walk!” he urged, kicking his legs even as Jennifer secured the safety strap around his waist.

“I know you can, honey,” she reassured him, leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead, “But hospital policy is that all patients have to be in a wheel chair or stroller when leaving. Once we get outside, we’ll see about letting you walk to the car, okay?”

Brian seemed to think about this for a long moment, then nodded, squirming around in his messy diaper, “Okay. Then we go home, mommy?”

Jennifer almost responded without thinking, but then it hit her. He’d called her ‘mommy’, probably without thinking about it, and was looking up at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. As a flood of emotions poured over her, and she tried to fight back tears, she moved around to the back of the stroller so as to not let the boy see the couple that rolled down her cheeks.

“Yes, baby. Then you go home with mommy.”

[size=4][color=#FF0000]This is a commissioned story. If you would like your own commissioned story, check out my info at http://paddedquill.deviantart.com[/color][/size]

 

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