Derrick's Awakening - Chapter 8 (Patreon)

'No, no, no!' Derrick was screaming inside his own mind, looking on helplessly, not knowing what to do, or say, to stop this. It felt like he was standing in the middle of a set of train tracks, hearing the blaring of the horn, knowing that he was moments away from being run over... But he was in a tunnel, and there was nowhere for him to go, no way for him to move out of the way.

Grabbing his backpack, snatching it out of her hands, would be the same as admitting what he'd done, and, if she didn't want him to, he honestly didn't know if he could have overpowered her. She was so much bigger than him, so much stronger, he had no doubt... He'd never had a reason to test it, but she spent all day looking after kids, carrying them around... And, as humiliating as it was to think about, some of them weren't that much smaller than him.

That was why she had these diapers in the first place, after all, why they fit him. He was tiny, especially next to her, and while that did make it easier for him to feel like a little kid as he experimented and tried on the diapers and fantasized, it also meant that he was no match for someone Mrs. Holland's size.

"I-I can explain!" he blurted out as she pulled open the front of the backpack, and he saw a flash of plastic inside, his mouth running on instinct and fear.

She paused, closing it again, Derrick's heart pounding, not knowing if she'd caught a glimpse or not. "You can, huh? Then let's hear it."

She sat down on the sofa, patting the seat beside her. Derrick swallowed, joining her, hating how his feet couldn't quite reach the ground the way hers did, leaving them hanging, emphasizing the difference in their sizes, and maturity levels. Of course, that was how it was supposed to be - she was literally old enough to be his mother, seeing as she was, in fact, his friend's mom - but the gap felt wider than ever.

He squirmed, part of his glad he'd done something, that he'd stopped her, if only for a moment, while the rest of him struggled to come up with what to do next. How could he follow up that promise when the explanation was, indeed, exactly what she'd accused him of? 

He hated this... He hated that he'd betrayed her trust like this, after she'd been nothing but nice to him for years. He hated that she was going to know his secret, and that she might tell Malory, who would definitely never let him live it down.... He hated that it might not matter if she did, since he could hardly blame her if she decided she didn't want him to come over anymore, now that she knew he was stealing from her...

His face burned as he sat there, brain firing off the starts of a hundred different excuses, then cutting them all off at the pass, knowing she'd never buy any of them, that they were ridiculous, and she knew him too well to believe them. And the longer this took, the longer he stayed silent, the less likely she'd be to give him the benefit of the doubt...

"Hey," she spoke up quietly, leaning over. "It's okay, Derrick."

She reached up, running a finger along his cheek, and only then did he realize he'd started crying. He groaned, wiping his eyes, his anger at himself growing, though all that did was make the tears come quicker. Had his fun with the diapers been worth it? As much as he felt like he should say no, as miserable as he felt now, the answer was still a resounding 'yes.'

"Hold on," she said. "I know what will make you feel better."

She got up, walking away, leaving him alone, giving him a few moments to compose himself, to rub his hands over his damp eyes and do his best to stop crying. He noticed, after he'd done that, she'd taken the backpack with her, keeping him from taking it and running, but also taking it completely out of his hands whether she looked in it or not... He'd never really had any control over that in the first place, anyway, though, had he? 

When she returned, she was still holding the backpack closed - not that it meant anything when all she would have had to do was peel back the front and peek inside - yet what really caught his eye was what else she was carrying. It was a sippy cup, baby blue, with a green top and handles.

"Here you go," she offered. 

He hesitated, gulping as he looked at the thing. It certainly hit more than a few of his buttons, seeing it there, having it handed to him like he was a little kid who still needed a special cup to keep from dribbling his drink all over himself, but did it mean she'd seen what he had in his backpack? Did it mean she knew?

"Go on," she urged. "It's warm, so I didn't want you spilling it and hurting yourself."

That definitely didn't make him feel any more grown-up... Not that he would have minded, normally, if he were at home, by himself, trying to get into his little headspace. "I-I can drink without spilling," he insisted weakly.

"I'm sure you can," she cooed, "but why risk it?" She pushed it next to his hands again, and slowly, he took it, lifting it up to his lips and taking a sip.

He should have known what it was right away, from the moment she'd said it was warm, yet somehow it hadn't registered in his brain until it hit his tongue. Warm milk. She was giving him warm milk, in a sippy cup, like an upset little kid... And, perhaps because he hadn't drank milk on its own in years, it was working.

It flowed into his stomach, sending a wave of calm and comfort over him, making him feel safe and protected... And small. He fidgeted in his seat, staring up at her, her face looking so much further away now, so much higher...

She had to know. That had to be why she had given him the milk, and in a sippy cup... This was her way of telling him that, and of making him aware that it was all right, that she wasn't mad. He took another drink, sniffling, tears starting to well up inside him again, but in a different, happier way.

"Okay," she said finally, after a minute or two. "So, Derrick... You were saying?"

"W-Well..." Derrick lowered the sippy cup, feeling silly as he glanced down at it, realized he'd instinctively grabbed onto the handle on each side, as if he really was a clumsy little boy who needed to hold onto his cup with both hands to hold it steady. He hadn't even thought about it, he'd just done it... With all her experience looking after toddlers, there was no way she wouldn't have seen that, wouldn't have recognized it...

"Well?" she smiled gently. "What is it, Derrick? You said you could explain... So let's hear it, sweetie."

"Well..." he started again, taking a deep breath, hands curling tighter around the sippy cup's handles. "Y-You're right." He nibbled his bottom lip, forcing himself to look up into her eyes, instead of lowering his head, staring at the floor meekly, like he wanted to. "I did take your diapers. I-I'm really sorry, and I can pay for them... I-I mean, I don't know how many it was, exactly, but whatever you think is fair... I-I know you need those for work, a-and I shouldn't have done it, and... A-And I'm sorry, and..."

"Hey," she rubbed his back. "Calm down... Have some more milk. It's okay."

He did as he was told, taking another sip of milk, catching his breath again, a huge weight lifting off of him as he did. He'd done it... He'd admitted it, and she didn't seem mad, she didn't seem like she was going to throw him out, or forbid him from seeing Malory again... She didn't seem surprised, either, for that matter.

"Can you tell me why?" she asked. "Is there somebody who needed them? Do you have a friend who's having trouble making ends meet? If so, maybe I can help them out, and..."

"No," he interrupted, blushing. He could have let her go on, to make up an excuse for him, a noble cause... He could perhaps slither his way out of this and come out looking like a hero, where, mere minutes earlier, he'd thought he was doomed...

But he couldn't do that. He'd been caught, fair and square, and he didn't want to get out of it by lying. She deserved the truth, even if that meant she was never able to look at him the same again.

"They're for me," he admitted. "They've all been for me."

"Do you need them?" she inquired, still showing no sign of shock at his revelation. "Are you having some sort of medical problem, or...?"

"No," he shook his head. "No, I don't need them... I-I just..." He took one more sip, gathering up his courage for what he knew was going to be the most difficult part, the hardest thing to say out loud to another person. "I-I like them."

"You do, huh?" she said. "Can I look now?" He nodded silently, watching while she peeled open the front of his backpack, revealing the stack of diapers inside. "And these fit you?" He nodded again. "Do you know what I think, young man?"

He shook his head. "N-No, ma'am." 

"I think," she told him, scooting in closer as he struggled to stay still, to accept whatever was coming to him, knowing that he deserved it, "that is the cutest thing I've ever heard... And I am so proud of you for telling me yourself. I was pretty sure that was all the case, but it meant so much more coming straight from you."

"Really?" he blinked up at her. "Y-You're not mad?"

"I'm not," she smiled. "How could I be mad that a cute little boy like you?"

He squirmed, his insides melting a bit at her words, and the tone she said them in, feeling like that was exactly what he was. "A-And you're not going to tell Malory, are you?"

"Of course not," she promised. "It can be our secret." He beamed, feeling lighter and freer than he had in a very long time... Until he heard what she had to say next. "There is one condition, however..."