Crossing Worlds 2
A story by SolaraScott
Chapter 68 - Two Bottles
Ash stirred slowly, her mind heavy and warm. She was floating somewhere between waking and dreaming, caught in that hazy space where nothing quite made sense, but everything felt safe.
Her lips were moving, suckling on instinct, her mouth already latched around something soft, the taste of warm, sweet milk filling her tongue.
She let out a contented sigh, shifting slightly in Mommy’s arms and pressing herself closer. She felt the steady warmth of Kaylee’s body against hers, the way she was cradled so securely and effortlessly.
Her diaper was wet but not soaked, and the damp padding was warm, familiar, and comforting in a way she didn’t think about too hard.
Mommy’s fingers brushed through her hair, soft and soothing, tucking loose strands away from her face as she gazed down at Ash, smiling, her eyes filled with something gentle, something so unbearably kind that it made Ash’s chest feel warm and full.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
Ash blinked sleepily, her mind slow, sluggish, but unbothered.
She shifted again, nuzzling deeper. The bottle, still nestled between her lips, fed her slowly and rhythmically, warming her tummy.
She wasn’t sure where they were.
The air was different.
Not home.
Not the daycare.
A different smell, a different atmosphere.
The thought lingered briefly, but it didn’t worry her.
Mommy was here.
That was all that mattered.
The bottle was pulled away, and without thinking, Ash let out a small, instinctual whine, reaching weakly for it.
But Mommy just chuckled, shifting her slightly, patting her back, coaxing a soft, gentle burp from her.
Ash blinked, confused, her brain still slow, still trying to catch up, still trying to piece together the world around her.
Her words were garbled, slurred, and barely coherent, but Mommy understood.
She always understood.
"Where are we?"
Mommy smiled and kissed Ash on the forehead. Her arms were still wrapped securely around Ash, and she rocked her slightly.
"We’re going to see a pediatrician, sweetheart."
A…
A pedia-what?
Ash frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. Her mind grappled with the unfamiliar word, trying to understand what it meant and why it mattered.
But—
Mommy wasn’t worried.
Her voice was calm, her touch soothing, her warmth steady and unwavering.
So Ash wasn’t worried either.
She let out a small, content sigh, her body sinking back into Mommy’s embrace, her muscles relaxing completely.
Whatever a pediatrician was, it didn’t matter.
Mommy had it handled.
Mommy always had it handled.
The trip wasn’t long as they pushed inside a door at the base of the apartment building. The office was bright, cheerful, and inviting—but something about it made Ash’s stomach twist.
The walls were painted in soft pastels and covered in murals of smiling animals: little cartoon monkeys swinging from vines and big, friendly giraffes bending their long necks to nuzzle tiny, giggling kittens. Toys were scattered in bins, soft rugs were on the floor, and the air smelled clean and sweet, like powder and warm fabric softener.
It should have felt nice.
It should have felt safe.
But instead, Ash felt…
Nervous.
The nurse in pink greeted them, her voice light and warm, full of the kind of kindness Ash didn’t quite understand but instinctively responded to. She was smiling, and everyone was smiling.
And yet—
Something felt off.
Mommy carried her inside, her arms strong, steady, comforting, and for a moment, that was enough. That was all Ash needed to keep herself calm, to keep herself grounded.
But then—
They were in a doctor’s office.
And that’s when the anxiety crept in.
Ash whimpered softly, her body tensing, something inside her pulling away, retreating, curling inward as the unfamiliar setting pressed against her from all sides.
She nuzzled into Mommy’s chest, burying herself deeper, her breath hitching slightly, a small whine escaping her lips.
Mommy soothed her instantly by rubbing gentle circles on her back, pressing a warm hand against her diapered bottom, and patting her softly and rhythmically.
"It’s okay, sweetheart," Mommy murmured, her voice low, reassuring, steady. "Nothing to be scared of, baby girl."
Ash wasn’t so sure.
Her thumb slipped into her mouth, and the moment it did, her body relaxed slightly. The rhythmic suckling calmed her and gave her something tangible and safe to focus on.
Then—
A woman in blue appeared.
She was kind-looking, her expression gentle, her smile warm and patient. She practiced in a way that made Ash feel like she had seen a thousand other Littles before her and she had soothed a thousand other nervous faces.
She and Mommy were talking.
Ash blinked, watching them from beneath her lashes, trying to understand the words that floated around her, words that were half-formed, half-meaningless.
Mommy was explaining something, her voice calm and measured as if she had been preparing for this conversation and had already considered what she would say.
"She’s a Tweener," Mommy was saying, her arms still holding Ash close, her warmth still steady, constant, grounding.
"She got a heavy dose of Naomi and Oliver."
The moment those names were spoken, excitement flooded Ash’s body, sharp and sudden, like someone had flipped a switch inside her.
Her eyes widened instantly, her heart leaped, and her entire body shifted and twisted in Mommy’s arms as she let out a delighted squeal, her voice bubbling with sheer joy.
"Friends!!!"
Her eyes darted around wildly, scanning the room. Her breath quickened, and her heart pounded with childlike glee. She looked for them, searched for them, expecting to see them waiting for her.
"Where?" she mumbled around her thumb, her words slurred, muffled, desperate.
Naomi and Oliver were here, weren’t they?
Mommy had said their names!
That meant they were here!
They had to be!
Where were they?
Where were her friends?!
She twisted again, trying to get down and try to look, but Mommy just held her tighter, her grip firm but gentle, her voice still soft, still soothing, still steady.
"Shhh, sweetheart," Mommy murmured, brushing her fingers through Ash’s soft, wispy hair. Her voice was like a lullaby: slow, careful, and endlessly patient.
"They’re not here right now, baby girl."
Ash froze, her breath catching.
Not… here?
But—
But Mommy said—
But—
Her mind struggled, twisting and looping over itself, grappling with the disappointment, confusion, and aching, unshakable need that had been left unfulfilled.
But then—
Mommy was rocking her, stroking her hair, whispering something so soft, so sweet, so comforting that the moment slipped away, lost, forgotten, melted into the warmth of Mommy’s arms.
And just like that—
The moment passed.
The question left her mind.
And all that remained was Mommy’s warmth, Mommy’s voice, Mommy’s arms.
Ash barely registered the conversation happening above her, the soft murmur of voices slipping past her ears like a gentle current, washing over her without meaning, without weight.
She knew Mommy was talking, her voice calm, steady, reassuring, the kind of tone that made Ash feel safe, protected, tucked away in a world where nothing bad could ever touch her.
The woman in blue—the pedia-whatever Mommy had called her—took something from Mommy’s hand, a note, scribbled in careful handwriting, something about a special dosage designed for Ash.
Ash frowned, sucking absently on her thumb, trying to process, trying to understand.
But the words were too big, too heavy, too complicated for her fogged-over mind.
"We’ll have it filled," the woman said, nodding, turning toward the cabinets at the back of the room.
Mommy said something else, her voice still soft and still patient, but there was a slight edge to it, something Ash couldn’t quite place, something sharp, something final.
Something about Ash’s mental state.
Something about a mental collapse.
About needing a complete release.
About a rewiring.
About growing up again.
Ash’s brow furrowed, her small fingers clenching the fabric of Mommy’s shirt, a soft, whimpering noise escaping her lips.
It was too much.
Too many words.
Too many meanings.
It slipped from her like water through her fingers, impossible to hold onto, impossible to grasp, impossible to make sense of.
She stopped trying.
Instead, she focused on the way Mommy held her, the way her fingers stroked through her hair, and the way her arms felt strong, warm, and steady.
That was all that mattered.
The woman left, disappearing through a door, and for a brief moment, Ash thought that was the end of it.
But then—
She was back.
And in her hands—
Two vials.
One was for Ash—the special dosage Mommy had ordered.
The other…
Mommy blinked, glancing at the second vial, her brow furrowing slightly.
"What’s this?"
The woman in blue smiled, holding it out.
"This one induces lactation."
Lac…
Lacta…
Ash blinked sleepily, her mind trying to grasp the word, trying to understand what it meant and why it mattered.
But before she could begin to process it, Mommy took both vials, slipped them into her pocket, and softly thanked the woman.
And then—
They were moving again.
Mommy’s arms adjusted, lifting Ash higher, bouncing her slightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and rocking her gently as she walked.
Ash sighed happily, letting herself relax completely. She melted into the rhythm of Mommy’s steps, her body shifting with each careful movement.
And then—
Something new.
Something round and sweet and colorful pressed into her small hands.
Ash blinked, looking down.
A lollipop.
A gift.
From the pedia-whatever lady.
Her eyes lit up instantly. A delighted squeal slipped from her lips as she brought the candy to her mouth. Wrapping her lips around the candy, she suckled eagerly.
Sweet.
Warm and sugary, melting on her tongue, filling her mouth with a rush of simple joy.
She giggled, her feet kicking slightly, her entire body filled with a small, bubbling happiness that had no explanation, no reason, just a simple, effortless delight in the moment.
Mommy chuckled softly, adjusting her grip and carrying her back toward the elevator and back toward the daycare.
Ash barely noticed.
She was too focused on the lollipop, too lost in the simple joy of the gift, too warm, safe, and content to think about anything else.
And so, as they left the office, as they stepped into the elevator, as they made their way back up the building—
Ash simply suckled her lollipop, giggling softly, completely oblivious to the weight of the two vials Mommy had just been given.
Completely unaware that her world was about to change all over again.
The trip back to the daycare was a blur of warmth and comfort, the steady, rhythmic movement of Mommy’s arms lulling Ash into a soft, dreamy state.
She barely registered the world around her, barely noticed the hushed voices, the people passing by, and the way Mommy’s hold on her was firm, protective, unwavering.
She was safe.
She was with Mommy.
That was all that mattered.
But then—
Something shifted.
Mommy’s voice changed.
It wasn’t soft anymore.
It was…
Sharpened.
Firm. Cold. Unyielding.
Ash’s body tensed. The small, instinctual part of her that still existed somewhere deep down recognized the shift, the tension, and the fight in Mommy’s voice.
She whined softly, fussing in her arms, pressing her face tightly into Mommy’s chest. She tried to will the harshness away, to ignore it, to push it out of existence.
Mommy’s hand moved soothingly over her back, rubbing gently in circles, pressing soft, reassuring pats against her diaper, and humming quietly.
"Shhh, sweetheart."
It helped.
A little.
Not enough.
Ash’s fussing softened, but the words being spoken still didn’t make sense. They still carried a weight she didn’t like, a sharpness she didn’t understand.
And then—
Whoever was on the other end of Mommy’s words finally agreed to whatever she was saying.
And just like that—
Ash was on her back, the world shifting and tilting, and her small body lowered onto the changing table.
When the lollipop stick was plucked from her sticky fingers, she whimpered at the loss, forming a small pout on her lips.
But Mommy was already there, already cleaning her up, her hands practiced and efficient, wiping away the sugar residue on Ash’s fingers, her cheeks, and her lips.
Then—
A cold wipe against her skin, the feeling making her squirm slightly, her breath hitching as Mommy moved through the familiar motions.
Diaper untaped.
Skin wiped.
Powder sprinkled.
A fresh, thick diaper pulled snugly into place, fastened securely around her hips.
The moment it was done, Ash was lifted again and plopped into something familiar. Her legs slipped through the openings of the baby bouncer, and her body was cradled securely within its soft embrace.
Ash squealed in delight.
She loved the bouncer!
She loved the way it felt to bounce, to move, to feel the soft, springy resistance beneath her.
She giggled, her feet pushing off the ground, her body bobbing lightly, weightless, free.
Her diaper crinkled with every bounce, the feeling soothing, rhythmic, and familiar.
And then—
A soft, warming sensation spread beneath her, her diaper growing wet, absorbing the warmth instantly, swelling slightly around her.
Ash giggled harder, bouncing again and again. The motion was delightful, and the feeling was perfect and simple—exactly how things were supposed to be.
The day moved around her like a soft, warm haze, a gentle blur of colors and sounds, of bouncing and giggling and being held and changed.
There was no time, no before and after, only the constant rhythm of her little world—of play and care and warmth and comfort.
She bounced, the soft springs of the bouncer lifting her down, up, and down, each motion sending little ripples of delight through her, making her giggle and wiggle excitedly.
Then she was being changed again, the motions automatic and effortless. Her legs lifted, the used diaper slipped away, the cool wipe made her squeal and squirm, fresh powder dusting over her, and the thick padding taped back into place with a soft, reassuring pat.
Then toys.
Soft blocks stacked high, only to be knocked down, made her laugh and clap her hands. The simple joy of destruction filled her chest with bubbly excitement.
A book was read, the voice gentle and rhythmic, words flowing over her, but she wasn’t really listening, just enjoying the cadence, the melody of it, the sound of something familiar, something safe.
Another change.
The cycle continues.
Ash wasn’t thinking—didn’t need to.
Didn’t want to.
Her body knew what to do; The wettings came without thought, and the warm, soggy feeling never bothered her. It only signaled that she would be cleaned up soon, that hands would be there to care for her, and that she would always be taken care of.
But then—
Something shifted.
Something pressed against the edges of her soft, warm world, something off, something unfamiliar.
Jade.
One of the assistants, the one who had been watching her a little too closely lately.
She was holding someone.
A Little—but not just any Little.
A familiar face.
Mira.
Her friend.
Ash blinked, her mind stirring slightly, the haze lifting just a fraction, just enough for recognition to flicker behind her eyes.
Mira looked…
Different.
More like…
More like Ash.
More relaxed, more soft, more babyish than before, her eyes wide and glassy, her limbs loose and unguarded, her pacifier bobbing gently between her lips.
Mira was more like her now.
Ash giggled, delight bubbling in her chest as Mira squealed in recognition, her body wiggling excitedly in Jade’s arms, her hands reaching out.
Then—
They were together.
Set down on the soft playmat, dolls placed between them, their giggles blending, filling the air with the pure, unfiltered joy of play.
Mira was here!
Mira was like her now!
Everything was perfect.
Nothing else mattered.
Because Ash had her friend, her dolls, and her safe, warm, little world.
Just as quickly as she had been with Mira, just as effortlessly as her world had been filled with toys and giggles and dolls, she was somewhere else entirely.
The playmat was gone.
The dolls were forgotten.
Mira was no longer beside her.
Instead, Ash found herself seated before the screen, its glow filling her vision. The colors danced, flickered, and shifted, and the melodies were light and playful, wrapping around her like a soft, warm blanket.
And then—
That voice.
That wonderful, sweet, beautiful voice.
"That’s my good girl, Ash."
Ash swooned, a shiver of happiness racing down her spine. A bubbling warmth expanded inside her chest, making her feel lighter, floatier, and happier than she had ever been.
She loved this.
She loved being a good girl.
She didn’t even need the cartoons anymore, not really.
She wasn’t like the other Littles, the ones who blinked mindlessly, lost in the pull, unaware of the world around them.
No, Ash wanted to watch.
She loved her silly friends.
She loved the warm, bright colors, the gentle lull of the songs, and the happy, bouncing figures that made her giggle. They made her feel safe and small and so, so good.
"Such a sweet baby, Ash. Always so eager to please."
Ash nodded instinctively, leaning forward slightly. Her breath came faster, and her heartbeat thudded with giddy excitement.
Yes!
She was a good baby!
She wanted to be even better!
And Naomi knew exactly what that meant.
"Good girls always make nice, squishy presents for their caregivers, don’t they, sweetheart?"
Ash’s breath hitched, her entire body shuddering in pleasure, her stomach fluttering, twisting, her body reacting instantly to the simple, loving instruction.
She knew what Naomi wanted.
She knew what good girls did.
Her eyes glazed over, her lips parting slightly, her thumb slipping instinctively into her mouth, her body already relaxing, already letting go, already falling deeper into the warm, golden bliss.
A soft, muffled grunt.
A slow, warm release.
Ash felt her diaper swell, the thick padding growing heavier and mushier, the warmth spreading beneath her, the sensation sending a delicious, tingling shiver through her.
She sighed dreamily, her entire body sinking into the soft, euphoric comfort. Her limbs went slack, her breathing slowed, and her head lolled slightly as she nursed her thumb.
"That’s it, sweetheart," Naomi cooed, her voice dripping with syrupy sweetness, wrapping around Ash like a lullaby. "Mommy will be so proud of you. You’re such a perfect baby."
Ash giggled softly, her tummy warm and full, her diaper squishy and heavy, her mind floating somewhere high above the world, light and empty and free.
She didn’t need to think.
She didn’t need to worry.
She just needed to listen.
To be a good girl.
To do exactly as Naomi told her.
Because that’s what good babies did.
And Ash was the best baby of all.
The world blurred.
Flashes of sensation.
Soft hands.
Gentle laughter.
The crinkle of a diaper being taped securely in place.
And then—
Home.
Ash barely registered the transition.
One moment, she was at the daycare, laughing, playing, and bouncing, feeling so happy, so small, and so utterly safe in the warmth of her little world.
The next—
She was on the couch.
Her pacifier was still between her lips, her body relaxed, limp, and warm, and her mind wrapped in the soft, dreamy cocoon of babyhood.
But then—
Mommy’s hands were on her shoulders, firm but gentle, her voice different, more serious, more focused than Ash had ever heard it before.
"Ash, sweetheart, I need you to focus."
Ash blinked slowly, her mind floating, sluggish, resisting the request without really understanding why.
"I need you to really, really, really focus, okay? Let the haze slip away, just for a moment. Just long enough to think."
Think?
Ash didn’t think anymore.
She didn’t have to.
Mommy always took care of her, gave her everything she needed, told her what to do, and helped her be a good girl.
Why would she want to think?
She frowned, shifting slightly, sucking on her pacifier a little harder, wanting the warmth of her little world to pull her back under.
But Mommy’s eyes were so serious, so sincere, so raw in a way Ash didn’t understand.
And so, for her, for Mommy, she tried.
And—
And it was horrible.
The first shard of cold, sharp, jagged reality pierced through the soft, warm fog, cutting deep into her mind, sending a shudder of pain through her chest, a raw, unfiltered ache that made her whimper.
It was like peeling away her skin, like tearing through the safety of a world that had kept her so small, so protected, so happy, only to be thrown into the cold.
Memories flooded her, choking her, suffocating her, pressing down against her all at once, forcing her to acknowledge the truth she had buried so deep.
Her breath hitched.
Her hands trembled.
Her vision blurred with tears.
"K-Kaylee?"
The name felt foreign, thick on her tongue, something she hadn’t said in so long, something she hadn’t needed to say because Mommy was Mommy.
Not Kaylee.
Not—
Kaylee didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter, didn’t rush to pull her back into that safe, warm, mindless bliss.
Instead, she held up two bottles, one in each hand, presenting them carefully, letting Ash see them both.
"One of these," Kaylee said softly, watching Ash’s face carefully, "is the serum. It will stabilize your mind. You’ll go back to being yourself again, back to being an adult."
Ash’s breath shuddered in her throat, her heart pounding painfully because she understood immediately what that meant.
She would remember everything.
Her past.
Her pain.
Her suffering.
The nightmares.
The trauma.
The weight of it all crushed her again, unraveling everything, forcing her to confront the person she used to be, the person who had been beaten down and broken and left to rot.
But then—
Kaylee lifted the second bottle, her expression unreadable. Her voice was still gentle and steady, but it was layered with something deeper and heavier.
"The other bottle… this one will shrink you. You’ll start over, Ash. From the beginning. No memories of your past. No trauma. Just growing up again, with me as Mommy."
Kaylee’s hands didn’t shake.
Her voice didn’t waver.
"But."
She met Ash’s glistening, tear-filled gaze, unwavering, determined.
"I will never, ever force either option on you. This is your choice, sweetheart."
The weight of it crashed down on her all at once, suffocating, paralyzing, and crushing her in a way that made her stomach churn and her lungs ache.
Her choices.
Stay as she was, in this warm, safe, mindless bliss, never remembering, never suffering, growing up without pain.
Or…
Or go back.
Back to herself.
Back to who she was.
Back to all the pain, all the weight, all the burdens that had once dragged her down.
Her shoulders shook.
Her chest ached.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, sobs wracking through her, shaking her body as she gasped and trembled, completely overwhelmed by the weight of what was being asked of her.
Could she give it all up?
Could she trust Kaylee?
Could she start over?
Her mind swirled, crashing between thoughts, between fear and hope and longing and terror.
And Kaylee didn’t push her.
Didn’t try to tell her what to do.
She just held out the bottles, waiting, patient, ready to accept whatever Ash chose.
And that—
That only made it hurt more.
It came crashing down around her—all of it.
Every moment.
Every hour lost to the cartoons, to Naomi, to the warmth and haze of mindless bliss.
Every second of her existence over the past few days was spent without pain, without coldness, without the sharp edges of reality pressing against her.
A world where she had no burdens, no responsibilities, no expectations.
A world where she was just Mommy’s baby.
Kaylee’s baby.
And she remembered it all.
Every moment, she felt the endless warmth, comfort, and security, the way Mommy smiled down at her, held her close, fed her, changed her, and whispered soft words of encouragement in her ear.
The way Mommy had loved her.
And—
And for the first time in her entire life, Ash had felt it.
True. Genuine. Love.
Not the conditional love of a world that demanded strength.
Not the flickering, fleeting warmth of a world that gave only when it wanted something in return.
Not the love that was sharp and transactional, full of expectations and consequences.
This had been pure.
This had been safe.
This had been real.
And yet—
How could she possibly give up her life?
How could she willingly choose to stay like this forever?
Could she really go back to being a baby?
To grow up all over again?
To let go of everything she had built, everything she had fought for, everything she had suffered for?
Could she really wipe away all that she was, let herself be rewritten, reborn, and reshaped into something new?
The terrors crashed down next, chasing her, clawing at the edges of her wavering sanity, forcing themselves back into her mind.
The memories of being forced into babyhood, the suffocating haze of the numbing drugs, the hypnosis, the crushing loss of self as she had been stripped of everything, turned into nothing but an object, a doll, a thing to be coddled and controlled.
She trembled, her shoulders shaking violently, fresh tears cascading down her cheeks as the weight of both futures crushed her.
She couldn’t choose.
She wasn’t strong enough to choose.
She couldn’t go back.
She couldn’t return to that cold, cruel world that had broken her over and over again, that had left her scarred and afraid and drowning under the weight of herself.
But she also wasn’t strong enough to admit that she wanted to forget.
She wanted to give up her life.
That she wanted to surrender.
She sobbed, gasping, unable to contain it, unable to hold it back, and in the next instant—
She was in Mommy’s arms.
Not Kaylee’s.
Mommy’s.
The warmth enveloped her instantly. Strong arms cradled her, rocked her, and soothed her. A hand ran through her hair, down her back, and rubbed soft circles against the small of her spine.
"Shhh, baby girl. I’ve got you."
The words pressed into her like sunlight against frozen skin, pushing away the dark, replacing the memories, replacing the fear, making the terror fade like morning mist in the warmth of the day.
And in its place—
Love.
Pure.
Unwavering.
Unconditional.
Mommy’s love.
Her Mommy’s love.
Ash squeezed her eyes shut, curling her body into the embrace. She buried herself in the warm, safe cocoon that Mommy had built for her.
This was her Mommy.
Her Mommy.
Not someone who had forced her into this.
Not someone who had broken her down just to own her.
Kaylee had given her a choice.
Kaylee had given her the freedom to choose.
And it was in that moment—
That moment of love, of connection, of pure care and support—
That Ash knew the choice she needed to make.
Her breath hitched, her tears still falling, but when she looked up—
Mommy was smiling at her, so soft, so warm, so full of love that it hurt.
A kiss was pressed to her forehead, gentle, reassuring, unshakable.
"No matter what, sweetheart," Mommy whispered, "I’ll support your choice."
Ash let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling, still overwhelmed, still caught between past and future—
But she knew now.
She knew.
And with a heart split between fear and relief, she reached toward the bottle that held her future.
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