Kaylee lay stiffly in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The dim glow of the city lights cast faint, shifting shadows across the room.

She should be sleeping.

She was exhausted, her body aching, her mind numb from everything that had happened that day.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t shut her brain off.

Because every time she closed her eyes—

She saw Ash.

Sitting there.

Staring at that damn screen.

Eyes vacant, glassy, utterly lost.

Her thumb in her mouth, her diaper so full it was nearly bursting, her body completely motionless, as if she had been frozen in time.

Kaylee’s stomach twisted violently, a pang of sickening, unbearable guilt clawing at the inside of her chest.

She had let it happen.

She had left Ash alone.

She had gone about her day, convinced that Ash was safe in the apartment and that Naomi wouldn’t be able to touch her if she wasn’t in the daycare.

And she had been so, so wrong.

Kaylee clenched her fists against the blankets, swallowing back the tight knot of emotion rising in her throat.

Ash had been so far gone when she found her.

So deeply trapped.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t just the hypnosis.

It wasn’t just the aftermath of another episode of Naomi and Oliver.

It was deeper than that.

Ash had looked at her with adoring, innocent, trusting eyes.

Had reached for her.

Had called her Mommy.

Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t help.

She could still hear Ash’s voice in her head, that high, delighted, happy squeal—

"Mommy!!!"

Kaylee had never felt more horror in her life.

She had hesitated.

Hadn’t known what to do.

Hadn’t known how to fix it.

So she had done the only thing she could think of.

She had taken charge.

Reluctantly.

Painfully.

She had played along, had picked Ash up, had held her, had cooed at her, had told her that—

"Everything is perfect, sweetheart."

"You were such a good girl for Mommy today."

And just like that—

Ash had swooned.

Had giggled.

Had melted completely into her arms, trembling with happiness.

She had nuzzled into Kaylee’s chest, had suckled her thumb, had let herself be changed, fed, tucked in, swaddled.

Kaylee had done it.

Had played her part flawlessly.

Had kept Ash calm.

Had kept Mira from saying something that could make things worse.

Had done exactly what she needed to do to keep everything from unraveling completely.

But at what cost?

Kaylee exhaled shakily, running a hand down her face, her fingers digging into her tired eyes.

She had taken one look at Ash and realized that—

She might have already lost her.

Naomi had done something.

Something deep.

Something worse than just another episode of hypnotic regression.

Ash wasn’t just acting babyish.

She wasn’t just caught in a moment of lingering fog.

She had become something else entirely.

And Kaylee had no idea how to pull her back.

If she even could.

The thought made her sick.

Made her feel like she was drowning in something too big, too heavy, too impossible to fight.

But she had to try.

She had to try.

For Ash.

Because she knew—knew without a doubt—that Ash would have tried to save her.

Ash had tried to save her.

All those days ago, when Kaylee was struggling, lost, and confused, Ash was there.

Ash had reached for her.

Ash had fought for her.

And now?

Now, it was Kaylee’s turn.

Kaylee rolled onto her side, her heart twisting painfully as she stared at the crib, which was illuminated softly by the nightlight.

Mira and Ash lay side by side, bundled snugly in blankets, the faint sound of Ash’s pacifier rhythmically bobbing filling the silent room.

In some way…

This had been what Kaylee had wanted all those days ago.

She had wanted to give Ash a chance to grow up without the pain of her past, without the trauma, the weight, the fear.

But—

This wasn’t right.

This didn’t feel like what she had wanted.

Kaylee swallowed hard, her arms wrapping around herself, a horrible, cold nausea churning deep in her gut.

The things she had done—the way she had played along, the way she had cooed and held Ash and praised her—

She had done it to keep Ash safe.

To keep her calm.

But Ash had responded so well to it.

So eagerly.

So completely.

Had any of it been real?

Did Ash really—deep down—want this?

Or was it just conditioning?

How much of her was still there?

Kaylee’s breathing shook as her mind spiraled, running over every problem, every obstacle, every impossible choice she now had to make.

What was she going to do with the daycare?

What was she going to tell the assistants?

What if the inspector came by?

What the hell was she supposed to say?

"Oh yes, everything is fine; I just have my best friend—a full-grown Tweener—treating me like she’s a baby, and also a regressed Tweener who I helped shrink, all while hiding the fact that I can’t even control my bladder anymore?"

Kaylee felt sick.

Her stomach churned; her body felt too hot, too cold, too tangled in knots.

She had been so focused on getting through today, on keeping Ash stable, on making sure everything didn’t collapse in a single moment of panic.

But now?

Now, she had to figure out what came next.

Kaylee’s hand drifted down, almost absentmindedly, pressing lightly against the front of her diaper.

Despite having just changed, the padding was already damp.

She sighed deeply, her fingers curling slightly over the crinkled material.

There was no stopping it.

No matter what she did, no matter how much she told herself she was different, stronger, more in control—

She wasn’t.

Not really.

Kaylee turned over, laying flat, rubbing her face with both hands, forcing her eyes shut tight.

Her mind was too full, too loud, too cluttered with everything she couldn’t solve.

She just needed to breathe.

To rest.

Even if only for a little while.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, staring at nothing, waiting for sleep to find her.

Eventually—

It did.

And when it did—

It swallowed her whole.

The dream was vivid, soft, and warm.

Kaylee was herself—but different.

Not lost.

Not spiraling.

Not worried about the future.

She was calm, happy, whole.

She was Mommy.

She could see herself smiling, caring, gentle, loving.

She was feeding Ash, holding her so close, watching as Ash latched onto her bottle and nursed softly, rhythmically, and sweetly.

She cooed over her, stroking her hair, whispering praise, telling her what a good girl she was and how much Mommy loved her.

She was changing Ash, smoothing powder over her skin, taping up a fresh, thick diaper, and playfully bopping her nose, which made Ash giggle and squirm.

She was holding her, rocking her, pressing soft kisses to her forehead, telling her how much she loved her baby girl.

And the strangest thing?

She meant it.

She loved every moment.

She loved Ash.

She loved taking care of her, holding her, feeding her, and keeping her safe.

She wanted this.

She really, really wanted this.

Kaylee felt something deep inside her shift, settle, awaken.

This wasn’t wrong.

This wasn’t forced.

This was natural.

She was Mommy.

And Ash was her baby.

And nothing had ever felt more right.

Kaylee woke with a start, her breath catching in her throat. A soft, trembling cry pierced the quiet of the night.

For a moment, she was disoriented, her mind still tangled in the remnants of her dream, that warm, achingly real dream where she had been Mommy, where she had felt so whole, so fulfilled, so happy.

But then—

Reality came crashing back.

Fear shot through her veins, her adrenaline spiking instantly as she flung the covers off, her body moving before she could even think.

She barely noticed that she was only in her bra and diaper, the once-snug padding now hanging low around her hips, sagging heavily from the night’s unconscious accidents.

She didn’t care.

Because Ash was crying.

And that meant something was wrong.

Kaylee stumbled to the crib, her hands gripping the edge, her heart pounding, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as she found—

Ash.

Awake.

Tears streaming silently down her cheeks, her pacifier hanging limply from her lips, her tiny hands clutching weakly at her swaddle.

Kaylee’s chest clenched painfully, her voice urgent, breathless, and desperate as she knelt.

"Ash? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

Ash blinked up at her, her big, glassy eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling.

For a moment, Kaylee thought she wouldn’t answer, that she was still too far gone, too deep in the haze, that she had truly, completely lost her best friend.

Then—

A soft, babbled murmur.

"Hungwy, Mommy."

Kaylee froze.

Her entire body locked up, her mind stuttering and glitching, and she was unable to process the weight of those words.

But then—

A wave of relief crashed over her so hard it made her knees feel weak.

She let out a slow, shaky breath. Her arms were already moving, reaching down and carefully lifting Ash into her embrace.

Ash whimpered softly, nuzzling into her chest, her small body curling into Kaylee’s warmth, her breath still hiccupy, uneven, trembling.

Kaylee could feel it immediately—

The heavy, squishy warmth beneath Ash’s blanket was a clear sign that she had soiled herself again in her sleep.

But Ash didn’t seem to care.

She wasn’t asking for a change.

She wasn’t even aware of it.

She was just hungry.

Kaylee swallowed hard, shifting Ash slightly in her arms as she turned, her movements softer now, more instinctive, as she carried Ash toward the kitchen.

"Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl," Kaylee murmured, rocking her slightly as she reached for a bottle, testing the temperature before beginning to warm the formula.

Mira stirred slightly in the crib but didn’t wake.

That was good.

She could sleep a little longer.

Kaylee ran a gentle hand through Ash’s soft, messy hair, feeling her body relax more and more in her arms. Her tiny fingers curled into Kaylee’s skin, gripping her for comfort.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

She could do this.

She had to.

She had no other choice.

So she rocked Ash gently, waiting for the bottle to warm, whispering soft reassurances as Ash suckled her pacifier and nuzzled deeper into her arms.

Kaylee gently pressed the nipple of the bottle against Ash’s lips, and without hesitation, Ash latched on instantly, her soft, rhythmic suckling filling the quiet space of the apartment.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, shifting slightly as she settled into the rocking chair, cradling Ash securely in the crook of her arm.

She rocked her gently, the soft creak of the chair filling the silence, her free hand moving on instinct, rubbing slow, gentle circles against Ash’s back before drifting lower—

Pat. Pat. Pat.

Her palm pressed softly against Ash’s diapered bottom, rhythmic, reassuring, lulling her even deeper into peace.

Kaylee had hoped—prayed—that a night of sleep would help clear Ash’s mind.

That when she woke up, she would be herself again.

She would look up at Kaylee with recognition confusion—anything other than the empty, glazed-over haze that had consumed her the night before.

But that hope was gone now.

Ash wasn’t coming back.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Kaylee’s chest tightened, a deep, twisting sorrow settling into her bones.

But then—

She glanced down.

Down at Ash.

Her lips worked rhythmically, her breathing slow and steady, her entire body utterly relaxed in Kaylee’s arms.

Her eyes were closed, her lashes fluttering softly, a look of pure, unfiltered peace written across her features.

She was so happy.

So content.

And for the first time, Kaylee felt it.

A warmth—a deep, aching warmth radiating in her chest, spreading through her like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

This.

This had been all Kaylee had wanted for Ash.

For her to be safe.

For her to be happy.

For her to never feel pain, never feel fear, never suffer again.

Kaylee’s breath hitched as the realization settled in her bones, grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She leaned down without thinking, her lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Ash’s forehead.

"You’re such a good girl," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ash suckled softly, her lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile.

"Mommy’s good girl."

The words slipped from Kaylee’s lips so easily, so naturally—

And when they did, that warmth inside her bloomed even stronger.

It felt right.

So, so right.

She finished feeding Ash, setting the empty bottle aside before lifting her, gently patting her back, and coaxing out a small, sleepy burp.

Kaylee smiled, pressing another kiss to Ash’s hair, holding her close, and rocking her slowly.

"That’s my good girl," she whispered again, the words feeling more and more natural, more and more real every time she said them.

"Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you into a fresh diaper," Kaylee murmured, standing with Ash curled in her arms. The girl’s warm little body nestled perfectly against her chest.

Ash whimpered softly, her thumb still bobbing lazily in her mouth, her eyes heavy and dazed, but she didn’t protest.

She never protested anymore.

Kaylee carried her back into the bedroom, absently thinking that they really did need a proper changing table. The bed worked, but it was awkward, and Ash deserved something better, something made just for her.

Maybe she’d look into it today.

She laid Ash down gently, pulling the blanket away, leaving her completely bare, apart from her swollen, sagging diaper.

"There we go, baby girl," Kaylee cooed, her hands moving on instinct, untaping the heavy padding, wiping her clean, dusting her with powder, and securing a fresh, thick diaper around her hips.

Ash let out a soft, dreamy sigh, her thumb still tucked securely between her lips, her body completely pliant as Kaylee gathered her back up, cradling her once more.

Kaylee didn’t even think twice about the fact that Ash was naked apart from her diaper—

That was just normal now.

Ash was a baby.

And babies didn’t need clothes unless they were going somewhere.

She turned back toward the crib, stepping toward it—

And found Mira already awake.

The girl was watching her, eyes sharp, calculating, her smirk slow, amused, knowing.

Kaylee barely had time to register the shift in her expression before Mira’s smirk widened, and she spoke.

"Enjoying your new role, diapered Mommy?"

Kaylee froze, her arms tightening instinctively around Ash.

For a split second, she felt something sharp—

Something hot and uncomfortable, something too real, too cutting.

But then—

Kaylee smirked right back.

Lowering Ash gently into the crib, she turned to Mira, raising a single challenging eyebrow.

"Well, since you felt the need to comment on my situation, sweetie," she said smoothly, grinning, "I think you can wait a little longer for your change."

Mira’s face fell immediately.

Her smugness vanished, replaced with instant horror, disbelief, and frustration as she sputtered, struggling slightly in her thick, wet diaper.

"Wait—what?! No, come on, you can’t—!"

"Oh, I absolutely can," Kaylee hummed, mockingly sweet, brushing softly through Ash’s hair, ignoring Mira’s protests entirely.

Mira glared, her cheeks flushing deep red, her hands clenching at her sides, but Kaylee could see it.

The helplessness.

The reality of her new situation was setting in.

She was a Little now.

She could complain all she wanted.

But Kaylee was the one in charge.

And that?

That felt so, so good.

Still smirking, Kaylee turned on her heel, leaving Mira squirming in frustration as she made her way back to the bathroom.

She had her own needs to attend to.

She pulled open the closet, grabbing a fresh diaper, moving with a confidence she hadn’t expected from herself as she stripped out of the swollen padding wrapped around her hips.

It was still strange—wearing them, using them, changing them like it was normal.

But was it?

Was it really that strange anymore?

She had spent the night taking care of Ash.

She had called herself Mommy in her dream, and it had felt so right.

She had felt so full, so warm, so complete.

Was that really a bad thing?

Kaylee snugly wrapped the fresh diaper around herself, pulled on her clothes for the day, and smoothed down the fabric as she stared at her reflection.

She had a lot to think about.

But first—

She had a baby and a brat to take care of.

Freshly dressed, her confidence settled, Kaylee returned to the crib, her presence looming over Mira, who was already watching her closely.

Kaylee leaned over the railing, her hands resting lightly on the bars, looking down at her new charge, her lips curving into an amused smirk.

"So," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, "are you going to behave? Are you going to be a good little baby?"

Mira’s cheeks burned red, her expression twisting into something both defiant and deeply embarrassed, her hands clenching the soft blankets beneath her.

She glanced away, clearly hating every second of this, her jaw tight, but Kaylee could see it—

The realization.

The resignation.

She wasn’t getting out of this.

Not today.

Not anytime soon.

"I’ll be good," Mira muttered, her voice low, reluctant, stiff.

Kaylee’s grin widened.

Truthfully?

She hated forcing anyone into the role Mira now held.

She knew how awful it was, how humiliating, how deeply unfair it felt.

But—

Well.

She didn’t feel like she had much of a choice for now.

Mira had made it very clear that she was a liability.

And if she wasn’t going to be a trustworthy Tweener—

Then she was going to be a helpless Little.

"That’s a good start," Kaylee said, her voice sweet teasing but with an unmistakable undertone of authority. "But I think you forgot something."

Mira stiffened slightly, still not looking at her.

Kaylee’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Ask nicely," she hummed, raising an expectant eyebrow. "And apologize."

Mira’s jaw clenched.

She let out a long, frustrated sigh, clearly fighting every instinct in her body before finally—

"I’m sorry," she mumbled, still pouting.

Kaylee waited.

Mira knew better than to leave it at that.

Her blush deepened, and after another pause, she sighed again, forcing herself to look up at Kaylee.

"Kaylee… may I please have a diaper change?" she muttered, her voice flat, reluctant, stiff with humiliation.

Kaylee’s grin widened just a touch.

"That’s a good girl," she teased, relishing the deep flush that spread across Mira’s face.

She reached down, scooping the smaller girl up effortlessly, setting her down on the bed beside the now softly snoozing Ash.

Mira stayed quiet, her face still burning with humiliation, but she didn’t resist.

Kaylee worked quickly, her hands deft, practiced, untaping Mira’s heavy, swollen diaper, wiping her clean, dusting on powder, and taping up a fresh, thick replacement.

She patted the front lightly, watching as Mira flinched slightly at the small gesture, and Kaylee chuckled.

"See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

Mira just glared at her.

Kaylee felt another sharp pang of regret, a dull, twisting ache in her chest as she pulled the baby tee over Mira’s head, the fabric stretching just enough to cover her chest, barely reaching her tummy. She plopped a Little’s pacifier into her mouth for good measure.

It was humiliating.

Unfair.

But she had to push on.

She had to keep moving.

Because right now?

This wasn’t about Mira.

This was about survival.

She adjusted the shirt, smoothing out the wrinkled hem, ignoring the angry, humiliated flush on Mira’s cheeks before scooping up Ash cradling her close.

It was showtime.

Kaylee barely registered the weight in her arms and barely thought about the fact that Ash had once been her equal, that months ago, this would have been unthinkable.

Now?

Now, she doubted the assistants would even recognize her.

Not like this.

Not with her barely-there baby tee, thick diaper on full display, her thumb tucked lazily between her lips, her glazed-over eyes blinking slowly.

She had seen this before.

Tweeners who had fallen under Naomi and Oliver’s spell.

It has been happening more and more lately.

Too often.

But Kaylee didn’t dwell on it.

She couldn’t.

She traced her steps back to the daycare, her arms still securely wrapped around Ash. Her steps were even, controlled, and confident.

By the time she arrived, the daycare was still mostly empty, the early morning quiet but expectant, the air carrying the lingering scent of fresh wipes and baby powder.

An assistant greeted her immediately, her presence warm, welcoming, and oblivious.

She barely glanced at Ash, her attention shifting to Mira. She reached out and took her with gentle ease, rocking her slightly and bouncing her just enough to test her pliancy.

"Well, good morning, sweetheart," the assistant cooed, smiling down at Mira, completely unaware of the fire burning behind the girl’s eyes.

Then—

Her attention drifted back to Ash.

Kaylee braced herself.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

"And who’s this little cutie?" the assistant asked, her voice light, playful, unsuspecting.

Kaylee smiled, shifting Ash slightly in her hold, tilting her just enough to sell the illusion.

"This is little Ashley," Kaylee said smoothly. "A close friend of Ash’s who… well…" she chuckled, shaking her head, "let’s just say she watched a few too many cartoons."

The assistant’s expression didn’t shift.

Didn’t even flicker.

Instead, she laughed, a soft, knowing chuckle as she reached up, running her thumb over Ash’s cheek, tilting her chin slightly.

Ash blinked at her slowly, her pacifier bobbing, her eyes empty, unfocused, blissfully unaware.

"Oh, she’s adorable," the assistant cooed, her voice dripping with sincere amusement, fondness, and acceptance.

Then—

"She’s more than welcome here."

Kaylee smiled back.

Relaxed.

The lie had worked.

Kaylee carried Ash effortlessly, her body light, pliant, and completely compliant as she moved through the daycare.

The assistant had bought it.

The lie had settled without a hitch.

Ash wasn’t Ash anymore.

She was just another Tweener who had watched too many cartoons.

Just another baby who had fallen too deep.

And that?

That made things so much easier.

Kaylee moved to one of the cribs in the nap area, gently laying Ash down, tucking her in beneath the soft blankets, and stroking a hand over her silky, messy hair.

Ash let out a soft whimper, turning slightly, her thumb popping lazily into her mouth, her body curling instinctively into the bedding.

Kaylee felt a pang in her chest, a mixture of emotions she didn’t have time to sort through.

So she ignored it.

She turned away.

And moved to the Nanny Bot’s control panel.

The screen flickered to life, a familiar roster of names and statuses populating the screen.

She typed quickly, adding a new entry.

Ashley – Tweener – Needs Constant Care.

A few more clicks, a few more adjustments, and just like that—

Ash was officially registered.

She was on the system.

She was just another baby now.

Kaylee exhaled, stepping away from the console steeling herself.

She had work to do.

No time for emotions.

No time for regrets.

Just another day at the daycare.

Kaylee moved through the motions, her hands steady and practiced. Her body settled into a routine even as her mind wandered.

She fed Littles here.

Changed diapers there.

Played with them, cooed at them, guided them through their morning activities, checking in on Ashley and Mira every so often.

Each time she glanced toward the crib, each time she saw Ash staring up at her with those big, adoring eyes—

She felt her chest tighten.

Because Ash would light up the moment their eyes met.

Her pacifier would bob, her hands would reach out, and that delighted, bubbly giggle would slip from her lips.

"Mommy!"

The assistants found it adorable, giggling amongst themselves, cooing at how sweet it was.

"She’s really latched onto you, huh?" one of them teased, nudging Kaylee playfully.

Kaylee chuckled, smiling on the outside because the lie they had spun was holding up perfectly.

The story about Ashley watching too many cartoons, the way she had regressed from too much exposure to Naomi and Oliver—

It made perfect sense.

It made everything easier.

And Kaylee was more than happy to let them believe it.

But beneath it all—

Beneath the smiles and laughter and well-practiced ease—

Dread was coiling deep inside her, curling in the pit of her stomach like a slow, suffocating vine.

Because the clock kept ticking.

Because the time for cartoons was getting closer.

And Kaylee had no idea what to do.

Would she leave again, like last time?

Would she try to fight through it, risk falling under with the Littles?

Would Ash—sweet, helpless little Ash—become even more lost?

Kaylee swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep moving, keep working, and keep smiling.

But as the time crept closer, as the assistants began preparing the Littles for their daily programming—

Kaylee felt like she was walking toward the edge of a cliff.

And she had no idea what was waiting for her on the other side.

Kaylee felt sick.

She had known it would be bad.

She had known it would be horrible—but seeing Ash like that, sitting there, already gone, already glazed over before the show had even started—

It shattered something inside her.

Ash was nestled against a giant stuffed animal, her body slumped slightly. Her pacifier bobbled rhythmically, and her fingers curled loosely into the fur of her plushie as she stared, unblinking, at the blank screen, waiting for it to start.

There was no resistance in her.

No hesitation.

She had already accepted it.

Mira was in a bouncer, her face twisted with distress, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something—anything—to ground her.

Her chest rose and fell quickly, her hands gripping the bouncer straps, her breathing shaky and uneven.

She was trapped.

And Kaylee had put her there.

No matter how much Kaylee may have felt resentful toward Mira—

No matter how much she told herself this was necessary—

She couldn’t deny the deep, sickening pit of guilt clawing at her stomach.

She hated this.

She hated forcing this on them.

Kaylee stopped by Mira, kneeling just enough to whisper. Her voice was low and steady, barely more than a breath.

"For what it’s worth…"

Mira turned to her immediately, her eyes wide, frantic, desperate, like she was clinging to every last second before the inevitable pulled her under.

"I’m sorry."

Mira stared, her lips parting slightly, her expression shifting from fear to something more… unreadable.

Kaylee swallowed, her voice barely audible now.

"I really, really don’t want to have to do this."

She didn’t wait for a response.

Didn’t give Mira a chance to reply.

Because what could she possibly say?

What could she possibly do?

Nothing.

Not anymore.

Kaylee stood, her stomach churning violently, and turned to leave the room—

But before she could even take a single step—

"Where do you think you’re going, Little Kaylee?"

Kaylee froze.

Her blood turned ice cold.

The screen flickered to life behind her, and she didn’t need to turn around to know who was there.

Naomi’s voice was like silk, dripping with warm amusement, wrapping around her like a velvet noose.

"It’s cartoon time, sweetie…"

Kaylee’s breath hitched, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as her feet refused to move.

"And you’re a baby, after all…"

She could feel it—the pull, the warm, sickly sweet comfort of Naomi’s words seeping into her thoughts, into her skin, into her bones.

"Come have a seat."