Chapter Text
George was never the best at taking care of himself. Ever since he was young the boy was practically on his own. His parents were always busy fighting over god knows what.
He couldn't cook, he couldn't clean, he barley knew how to wash clothing. Now that he was a 'functioning adult' who lived on his own, things got more difficult.
The brit picked up a few habits from his father, who could blame him? Cigarettes often were sprawled out over the counter cause the man couldn't be bothered to clean them up. Bottles of varying alcohols littered the already trashed floor. His house was practically a spitting image of the one he lived in as a kid.
More recently however, George was bored after a stream and was falling down the rabbit hole of twitter. He came across a certain fan page. It was full of fanart and fanfic recommendations of him acting like a child-?
Full of confusion, the brit went to google hoping to find some sort of answer as to what it was, if it was anything.
It only took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for, ageregresstion.
From the looks of it, it was some sort of coping mechanism. People with trauma of all kinds, and mental health issues would regress to a younger age then their own to escape the reality of adulthood.
George couldn't help but be intrigued by the concept. The thought of acting like a child brought him some sort of joy. Maybe it was the fact he never got to be a child, or maybe it was the desperation to feel okay again. Whatever it was, he was certain he was going to try it out.
It was a few months later, after George had discovered ageregresstion. He loved it. The brit clean out an old storage room in his house just to dedicate it to his little self. It was the only room in the house that was clean and didn't smell like cigarettes and vomit.
The walls were painted a light baby blue with clouds at the top. There were posters and fairy light hung up as well. In the corner there was a large bean bag covered in stuffed animals and soft blankets.
The room was full of toys and anything else the little wanted. It was his safe place after all.
More often then not George was in littlespace, with the exception of when he or his friends were streaming.
It was wonderful, nearly the first time in months George felt truly happy.
Of course however, all good must come to an end, which brings us back to the present.
George was sat in his bathroom a cigarette burning against his lips as he watch the knife dance gracefully across his stomach. Blood bubbled up from the cuts and gently dribbled it's way down his body.
/This/ was George's reality. He barley registered the loud gasp from besides him as he took another drag from the cigarette.
"What the fuck George! I thought you said you were getting better!" The voice screamed at him as he felt the knife be torn from his hands.
"Did too but here we are, how sad." George's voice was mumbled, he didn't know when it happened, but he found himself sat on the bathroom counter, his cuts being tended too by the stranger-? In the room with him.
A few minutes passed before George finally realized who the other was, Clay, his bestfriend.
He had forgotten the other was coming over today to help George around the house. It wasn't a secret to Clay about what George did behind the cameras, hell, Clay even knew about George's ageregression.
"Baby boy you can't keep doing this. You need to tell daddy when the thoughts come back okay?" Clays voice was soft and full of concern. Oh that's right, Clay was George's caregiver.
"Sorry, forgot again." George mumbled out, already slipping into littlespace.
"It's alright bubs, daddy shoulda known better then to leave you alone."
When Clay was done cleaning the other up, cigarette long gone by now, he picked the boy up. George practcally weighed nothing.
The boy found himself wrapping his arms and legs tighgly around his caregiver, hidding his face into his neck. He felt embarrassed and ashamed that Clay had found him like that. Of course it wasn't the worst thing Clay caught George doing, but it definitely wasn't a good thing.
"We cuddle please?" George whispered into Clay's neck, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
"Course baby, let daddy just grab your bottle and then we can cuddle." Clay walked the two into the kitchen, it smelt horid in there causing the little to whine loudly.
"I know baby boy just a few more minutes okay?" Whether George was big or little, he was practically codependent on Clay. So much so that he ended up moving to England just to make sure he could look after his baby boy.
"Mm bad bad." Clay cooed at the boy in his hands.
Finally Clay was finished warming up some milk with honey and vanilla in it. The bottle it was in was cute, covered in cheep vinal printed frogs and mushrooms that were slowly scrapping off.
The pair walked out of the kitchen and made there way into George's nursery. Clay was quick to notice the things were thrown around, and a few platic cars burnt. He'd ask George about it later, for now he brought the two over to the large bean bag and cuddled up into it.
Gently, Clay wrapped the two up in warm blankets; he brought the bottle up the the littles lips and cooed as he began to drink from it.
"Let's go to sleep okay?" Clays words were barley above a whisper as he gently rocked George back and fourth.
George didn't respond verbally, he just gently nodded his head as he began to fall asleep in the safety of his caregivers arms.