Chapter Text
My head is spinning and all cloudy like I've been underwater too long. Sore muscles and stiff joints riddle my body. I try to open my eyes but I can't. They feel like lead. I try sitting up but my head's too heavy. Everything feels weighted down. I try to remember what happen but I'm drawing a blank. Why the fuck can't I remember? Where the hell am I? What happened? I hear someone crying, sounds like it’s not too far away. Shit, I wish they would stop. It’s making my head pound even harder than it already is. My mind is racing, trying to figure out what the hell happened. I'm too lost in my own thoughts to notice there's someone in the room with me.
“Hush sweetheart. It's okay. You're going to be fine. Shh.” The woman is whispering comforts in my ear as she strokes my hair and gently rocks me causing my whole body to move as well, in an attempt to soothe me. It works, kinda. I start to feel a little calmer. Maybe I can start to think a little straighter now. I try to ask her where I am and what happened. My words come as a string of babble. I must have hit my head pretty fucking hard if I can't even form coherent sentences. My eyes are still blurry and heavy and it’s still hard to keep them open right now. The crying from earlier has slowed to small whimpers now and sound like they’re coming from bed right next to me.
“That's right sweetheart everything's okay. No need to cry anymore. You must be hungry after the week you’ve had. And with all that noise you were making I’m sure you need something in that little belly of yours before you cry yourself sick. I’m going to go make you a nice warm bottle. I’ll be right back so no more fussing while I’m gone.” With that she walks off before I have a chance to argue that I’m not even hungry.
Wait. Did she just say bottle? What the hell is she smoking to think I want a bottle. I'm a grown ass adult. I don't need a fucking bottle. What I need is to find out what the hell happened and why I'm here in the first place. Where the hell is here anyways? I try to get up again but this time the blankets are tangled up pinning me to the bed and with how heavy my limbs feel right now, there is no way in hell I can fight to untangle them. Seriously this is starting to piss me off. Struggling a little I manage to get my eyes to stay open this time. Looking around I can barely turn my head but at least I can see enough to know where I am.
A hospital room. I can hear the beeps of machines now that I take the time to listen. They have me in a bed with clear sides so everything looks distorted. Fuck someone must have picked me up and brought me here. Voices in the hall catch my attention before I can finish taking in my surroundings and forming a plan. I try calling out again in hopes of getting someone to come in here and tell me what's going on. I’m greeted again by a stream of babble, fuck. I hear footsteps approaching and turn my head to see a figure standing just outside the door with what looks to be a bottle in their hands talking to two other blurry figures. I can't quite make them out. My eyes are having a hard time adjusting and these clear sides nothing seems right.
“Her vitals are strong and she's awake.” So the woman from before must the one with that bottle shape in her hands. At least that's an upside now that I’m awake and have strong vitals. “We found her in the aftermath of the lab explosion downtown. Quinn Fertility. We contacted you as soon as we ran her chip. It seems to have been wiped clean in the explosion. You were next on the list for suitable placement once we decided to process her for adoption. She’s been in and out of it for the past week, but she seems to have come around now.” Well at least that explains why I’m so fucking fuzzy. Quinn Fertility? That sounds familiar. Where have I heard that name before? And what's all this talk about adoption? I’m twenty fucking two years old. I don’t need to be adopted. “We called you as soon as she woke up. The only thing on her chip was a name. Brooklyn. Not sure if it’s her name or parent's name. We have taken to calling her Brooke. I was just going to feed her. Would you like to?” She offers to one of the figures in the hall. And of course my name is on my chip, everyone's is.
“I can feed myself and it sure as hell won't be from a fucking bottle lady.” Again only babble comes out. Fuck this is starting to piss me off. At least they got someone here to fix my chip. At least I hope that’s who in the hall with her. Soon this whole thing will be over and I can get back to whatever it was that I was doing before. Not that I remember what I was doing before, or why I was at a fertility clinic for that matter. It’s not like I plan on ever having kids, I can barely feed myself some days. Doesn’t matter, I just need to get the hell out of here and as far from the crazy lady with the bottles as I can.
Crazy lady walks in the room. I can see now that she's a nurse. At least I assume she is from the brightly colored scrubs she’s wearing. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a braid that falls right above her ass. She has brown eyes and a hint of crazy sparkle in them that goes with her crazy ideas of giving me a bottle and a heart shaped face. The two people with her come into focus now that they have stepped in the room and closer to me. One has sandy blonde hair that looks a little shaggy and freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks. He’s about a head taller than the nurse. He has green eyes and a soft smile. The other man with him has dark hair cut shorter than green eyes and light stubble that covers his sharp jaw. Must be military of some sort. You can tell by the way he stands and his hair cut. I’ve learned from growing up in not the best neighborhood that being able to identify who is military and police is what saves you from spending time in a center. He looks annoyed. His mouth melts into a small smile that makes him look gentler and kind as soon as he sees me but his arms stay folded tight across his chest. It’s like he’s trying to be a tough guy. Guess that makes his buddy the good cop.
Green eyes looks to Military guy with a pleading face as if to get permission to do something. Military guy gives a small nod in response. Permission granted then. I’m not sure what he's asking for until he looks back at me before he leans over the bed. All of a sudden I notice he’s a giant and then the next moment I'm up in the air being tucked into his arms. What. The. Fuck. This has got to be some kind of fucked up dream, aided by drugs no doubt.
I fight to get out of his arms and run but it's useless. The giant is stronger than me and has me securely tucked into his arms. He walks over to a rocking chair that's in the corner of the room and starts to gently rock us in it. The nurse comes over with the bottle and hands it to Green eyes along with a cloth of some sort. He thanks her and turns his attention back to me.
“Looks like someone is excited to eat. You must be starving little one.” He says all this in an overly sweet voice but I can tell his voice is a little rough with a slight twang to it normally. He brings the bottle up to my lips and runs the nipple over them. What the fuck is he doing? Is he really trying to caress my lips with a fucking bottle? The fuck is wrong with you.I try to ask him just that but before I know what’s happening my mouth decides to do its own thing and opens wide for the fucking thing. My lips close around the nipple and I start sucking before I’m able to process the fact the my body betrayed me. It tastes a little funny, like sweeten milk. I notice just how hungry I really am now that I’ve tasted the stuff. When was the last time I ate anything? Man, it feels like I haven’t eaten anything for days. Shit this doesn’t taste that bad. Fuck it. It’s food, apparently, and I’m starving. I’ll worry about the fact I’m eating from a bottle in something stranger's arms later.
Everything starts to slow down as my head clears and stomach fills. Looking around now I notice they aren't giants. I'm the one that isn't right. I’m tiny now and what I thought was a hospital bed is really a clear box. It's like what you would find in any hospital nursery. What the fuck? I wiggle a little and notice that I'm wrapped in a blanket tightly which would explain why I wasn't able to move earlier and why I’m so warm. I can hear a crinkling sound every time I move. Did they put me in a diaper. Fuck am I a baby? Hell fuck no. Someone needs to fix this shit and fix it now.
I'm too busy looking at everything trying to get some clue as to what happened to me that I don't even notice I finished the bottle. Green eyes has been talking to me this whole time. “Wow you can eat. It took you no time at all to finish that bottle. You must have been starving. Now let's get you out of that dirty diaper.” He starts to walk over to the changing table on the other side of the room. He talks softly to me the whole way there telling me everything he is doing before he does it. Great just what I need, someone to narrate everything going on. I can see this shit getting old real fast.
“Yeah I was hungrier than I thought. How about we get something a little more solid this time. And while you’re at it how about we get me something else to wear. I wouldn’t say no to a pair of jeans and tee shirt.” It seems once again all I can do is babble, but he nods his head right along with what I’m saying. Shit he understands me, thank fuck for that. Now I can get some fucking answers. I start telling him everything I remember about waking up here and what I remember from before, which isn’t much. He lays me down on the table and starts to unbundle me. Wait! Did he just say diaper? “Fuck no. No way in hell am I going to be wearing a fucking diaper. I drank your stupid bottle only because I was hungrier than I thought and I'll even let you carry me around since I obviously can't do it anymore on my own. I can even deal with the fact that forming words is hard right now which is fine cause apparently you understand babble, but I draw the line at fucking diapers. I understand I needed one while I was unconscious but I fucking awake now.” Now that my arms and legs are free I make a break for it. I roll off the table and try to run but I hit the ground a little harder than I thought. And as much as I don't want to admit it, it kind of hurts. Like really hurts. Fat tears start to form and fall down my cheeks and my nose is getting clogged and I really just want to scream. I’m stuck here and can’t fucking talk or walk and all I want to do is wake the fuck up.
Green eyes is shouting something while snatching me up. “Shit. Sweetheart are you alright?” He gathers me against his chest while he runs one of his hands through my hair. I guess he’s feeling for tender spots with fingers a whole lot more careful than I thought he would be able to with those big hands of his. When he hits the sore spot where I bumped my head I can't help but flinch and whimper. “Oh, sweetie,” he says as he places a comforting kiss to the crown of my head. “What the hell dude. I don't know you put me down.” Fuck. I wish I could form words. I keep trying to get down but he has me tight against his chest.
Crazy bottle nurse and Military guy both walk up behind us. “What happened?” Military guy asks. Concern lacing his voice and he looks a little worried. Well at least I think he does. Can’t really tell with green eyes keeping me pinned to his chest and tears in my eyes.
"She wiggled her way off the table before I could grab her. I’m so sorry babe. I should have kept a hand on her.” He sounds a little guilty about it. Why the hell is he guilty I'm the one that rolled off the table. It's not like he pushed me off it or anything. I was trying to fucking run away for fuckssake.
“Is she okay?” Military guy steps closer and runs one of his hands over my back while the other one wraps around Green eyes’ back at the same time. It’s like he’s trying to hold the both of us and keep us from something only he can see.
“She has a sore spot on her head from where she hit it,” Green eyes admits and still sounds guilty for whatever reason, “but I think as long as we keep an eye on her she'll be okay.” He starts pressing kisses into my hair and rocking me gently again. And fuck between the both of them holding me tight there’s no fucking way that I’m getting away anytime soon so I might as well save what like strength I have until I find another chance.
Military guy murmurs softly in green eyes' hair as he kisses him there, “Babies are more resilient than you'd think dear.”
“Why don't I just take her and get her changed for you before you guys take her home. Your husband already did all the paperwork needed last week when we first called. All that's left is for you both to sign it and then you can take home your new bundle of joy.” Crazy nurse walks over and takes me from Green eyes and Military guy. Green eyes seems reluctant to let go. Fuck I rather they keep holding me too tight then let Crazy nurse anywhere near me again. It’s her fault I’m like this and until someone proves otherwise she’s evil.
Military guy and Green eyes follow someone else out of the room and I'm left with Crazy nurse. I fight her the whole time she's changing this fucking diaper and putting me in a sleeper. Really a fucking sleeper. Just because I can’t dress myself doesn’t give her the right to put me in this thing. It's a white one with multicolored dots all over it and it has pink fucking trim. This is going to suck. I've got to figure out a way to fix this shit. There's no way I'm spending anymore time as a baby then I have too. Fuck now I sound crazy like this has some kind of time limit on it. This better be some fucked up dream I’m having. I rather be laying in a puddle of my own blood unconscious somewhere than living in this nightmare for god knows how long.
*SMR*
“I can't believe this is happening babe. We're finally going to be parents. She's so small and fragile. And she has the those huge cognac colored eyes and that head full of soft chocolate brown curls. She's perfect babe. She even looks a little like you did as a kid. And we get to take her home. We get to be this little girl’s whole world.” The love and excitement is pouring off of him in waves so big and vibrant that anyone around us can see.
I squeeze my husband's hand a little tighter and stop us in the middle of the hall. Pulling him around to face me I put my arms around his waist and pull him closer. “Dylan you need to tone it down. All we have to do is finish signing the papers and she's ours. Just take a moment and breathe.” I lean over and kiss his forehead and give him a little squeeze before the assistant clears his throat. We turn to look at him, I forgot he was even there to begin with, and then turn to start walking again.
The legal representative is waiting for us in the conference room, Mr. Wiesel. I've already met him but Dylan hasn't. He’s about a half a foot shorter than us and has greasy black hair, all slicked back showing his receding hairline. The buttons on his suit jacket straining under the pressure of trying to keep his portly belly inside of something that's two sizes too small. He has a smirk that makes you want to punch him in face before he even opens his mouth. Then you hear his smarmy voice and it takes saint like restraint to refrain from causing him bodily harm. If we didn’t have to deal with him to adopt a child I would have taken my husband and left the moment I met him.
“Mr. Remington, nice to meet you. Your husband has only lovely things to say about you.” He says as he shakes hands with my husband. He looks Dylan up and down like a piece of meat and it makes my blood boil. No one should be looking at my husband like that except for me. His hands and eyes seem to linger longer than polite before shaking himself and turning to greet me. “Mr. Remington. Pleasure to see you again.” He nods his head at me and sends me a knowing smile as if we share some secret. The only secret here is how much I want to punch him in his smarmy face. “Now if you both will have a seat we can wrap this up.” He gestures to the conference table behind him. It’s a long dark wooden table with high backed leather chairs lining both sides of the table and one at the head of it where there’s a file folder in front of it along with a few pens. In the middle of the table is a mirror tray with a simple glass vase and a few flowers in it. Closer to the head of the table is a second tray, this one is silver and holds a glass pitcher of what I’m assuming is water and a few glasses sitting along side it. The walls are painted a light brown and the carpet is a light beige color that's complement the walls nicely.
“Now I have already gone over this with your husband and have been assured that he has kept you informed. To ensure that there are no misunderstandings I’m going to give you both a brief overview before I have you sign anything. This is also the time to speak up if you’re unsure of anything as well. During the first year of its life you will be required to bring it to all medical checks as outlined by the state in accordance with its age. You will continue to bring it to yearly medical checks until it's 20th birthday after which it will be every 5 years unless otherwise specified by a medical professional. You will have random home inspections for first six months after acquiring it. During these random inspections you will be evaluated on how well you have provided for it. Seeing how you are heir to the Remington fortune, I don’t perceive financial support to be an issue. The inspections will also review dietary needs for it along with detailed reports from it’s psychiatrist and primary health care provider. After you have successfully passed these inspections you will then be subjected to yearly inspections. Of course there won’t be warning for those either.” He nods his head subtly at me before turning back to the paperwork in front of him. “You are also required to bring it in once it has reached sexual maturity for testing the viability of reproduction. If found to be capable it will be entered into the program and removed from your care at that time. You will be held legally and financially responsible for it as soon as all paperwork has been signed and filed. There will also be times in which you will be required to bring it-”
“She. My daughter is not an ‘it.’ She is a child. My child.” Dylan interrupts him clearly irritated. The entire time that Wiesel has been going over the legal paperwork referring to our daughter as an it, my husband jaw tighten and he has been curling his fingers in a fist holding back the urge to hit him no doubt. I know the feeling and I’m tempted to do it myself at this point. Every time Wiesel has called her and it makes something in the pit of my stomach curl in rage. Dylan’s jaw is clenched tight in anger to point where I’m afraid he’ll damage his teeth, and his shoulders are just as tense.
Wiesel looks offended and shocked that he would be interrupted like this. He’s from a traditional home. Children are things, not people in homes like these. Wives and husbands are to be seen and not heard. They see themselves as someone above human decency, believing children and spouses to be little more than property. These traditionalist are so full of themselves but they control who can adopt and who can’t. With the world we find ourselves in, birth rates having dropped to the point where we find our future uncertain, they call the shots. We have to play by their rules. No matter how disgusting and frustrating they are, Wiesel being the perfect example.
I place my hands over my husband’s in an attempt to help soothe him. Running my thumb over his knuckles, his hands relax a little. Leaning over to him I press a kiss to his temple whispering small comforts into his ear before turning and hardening my face to address Wiesel. If looks could kill.
“Please excuse my husband. He is a little nervous which is understandable given the amount of time we have spent waiting for a child to come up for adoption only to find out they are sick. When you add that along with the week long wait to ensure the child is healthy before being taken home it’s easy to have emotions run high when faced with her being referred to as a thing. He has already formed such a strong attachment to her. I’m positive you can relate with having children of your own.” Wiesel thinks for a moment before nodding his head. “Now if we can move this along. I would greatly appreciate taking both my husband and daughter home to deal with them.” I manage to grit out as polite as possible, while I use my free hand to run over my husband’s thigh to continue calming him down. Wiesel looks pleasantly satisfied that I apologized for what he seems to view as my husband's unruly behavior.
“Of course Mr. Remington. We just need yours and your husband’s signatures on a few forms and you both can be on your way.” He seems happier knowing that I have managed to reign my husband in. I can’t wait to leave and never have to see his smug grin again. We sign the forms and then I shake hands with Wiesel. My skin crawls with how wrong it is to touch him and I manage to deter him from touching Dylan again before being escorted back downstairs to get our daughter. I can’t get us out of here fast enough. Knowing we are going to have to bathe in bleach to get his smug sliminess off. The nurse has her dressed in a sleeper and it looks like she's about to kill the nurse. Apparently she had just as horrible of a time with the nurse as we did with Wiesel. The nurse already has her in the car seat and a diaper bag packed. Dylan is cooing softly at her as we walk to the car. It's time to take my family home and far away from this place as possible. DHP hospitals always have this air about them that sets everything in me on high alert.
*BMR*
The evil crazy eyed nurse put me in a carrier, which if I'm being honest, isn't as bad as I would have thought. That doesn’t mean I’m on board with this whole baby thing however. They’re putting me in the back of a big black SUV. From what I can see of it, with my limited movement courtesy of my new body, it has tinted windows and dark leather seats that match the dark interior. Green eyes sits in the back seat with me and Military guy takes the driver's seat upfront. I thought they we were partners at first but now I’m starting to think otherwise. It’s clear Military guy is in charge. I'm trying to figure out how to unbuckle the straps of the carrier but getting these tiny little hands of mine to do anything anymore is impossible. This shit sucks major ass. Green eyes is still talking to me but I haven’t been listening, too distracted trying to get out of this thing. Military guy seems to interrupt Greens eyes constant talking. Thank you for small miracles.
“She is probably going to fall asleep before we get home Dylan. We don't need to overwhelm her. Let’s get her home and settled in before you start planning out the next 40 years of her life.” So Green eyes name is Dylan and he’s planning the rest of my life out, great. Good to know he’s the one I have to watch out for. So they’re husband's? Or boyfriends maybe? They at least live together. That much is clear.
“Papa's silly isn't he. You're not sleepy are you baby girl?” He’s smiling real big at me and gently poking at my stomach while he carries on with his nonstop talking. “You want to sit here and talk with Daddy don’t you sweetheart?” He's using an overly sweet voice to talk to me still. Really, it’s not like I’m a baby or anything. Well not a really a baby just that I look like one for some stupid reason. That’s neither here nor there at the moment. He’s watching me with hopeful eyes. I just look at him like he's lost his damn mind. I know he can’t understand me and if he thinks I'm calling him Daddy or the other one Papa he might as well head to the nearest mental hospital.
Ignoring him, I try looking for another way out of this hand basket because there is no way I'm going to live in hell with these two. Not that I have anything against two guys being together and raising a kid. Cause I don't. And I don't have anything against two girls being together or a girl and guy or any type of love between consenting adults for that matter. Or really any age as long as they want it and no one is being coerced into it. Free love and all that shit. I just don't want to be living with strangers is all. Let alone ones that want to be called Daddy and Papa. I mean come on, it’s like the start of some badly written porn. Or it’s like what happens when kids get grabbed up while playing at the park and then brainwashed into thinking their abductors are their real parents. But without the whole me being a kid playing at the park and being brain washed, well maybe brainwashing not sure on that yet. But one thing I do know is that this shit isn’t going to end the way they want.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even notice he tucked a blanket around me, pinning my arms and legs down and there’s something in my mouth. I give it a few experimental sucks to figure out what it is. The action seems almost reflexive. Natural even. It’s a fucking soother. What the hell? Get this fucking thing out. I try spitting it out but end up sucking on it harder. The fuck is wrong with me. Wait, it’s not that bad now that I’ve stopped panicking so much. It’s calming actually. Fuck it, in for penny in for a fucking pound. I’m warm and that bottle he gave me is getting heavy in my stomach. I start to get tried and the sound of the guys bantering back and forth along with the movement from the car aren't helping me stay awake much. My eyelids are getting heavy and I can't stop yawning. I hear Green eyes, no Dylan, talking to Military guy before my eyelids fall shut and they’re just too heavy to open them again.
“I guess you were right babe. Looks like she's out like a light.” Not quite out yet Green eyes. He runs his hand through my hair and starts humming something. It feels nice and this little bubble has settled in my chest. I wonder what it is, but I’m too tired to care right now. I guess after I wake up I can worry about all this. Sleep is sounding like a great idea at this point. Yeah I’m going to sleep. But because I want to not, because Military guy said so. Not going to start listening to him anytime soon.