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It could be difficult to gauge at times what exactly triggered Izzy’s regression.
An especially difficult day at work, often. Nightmares, sometimes. Toy commercials, occasionally. Usually he and Ed were left to guess though with Izzy either waking up already feeling little or having slipped at some point on the way back home from work, unable to say what exactly had happened today.
This time however Stede knew exactly what had caused him to slip and it was Lindt chocolates. A Lindt chocolate Santa to be precise.
They were at the grocery store together because Izzy was going to cook tonight. And he insisted that Stede wouldn’t know which ingredients to buy for the recipe he had chosen, even if he wrote them down exactly. The annoying thing was that he was probably right, but that wasn’t the point.
The point was that Stede had been comparing the prizes between Kerrygold and local butter when he felt a tug on his sleeve and an unsure „Dada…“ whispered next to him.
Izzy rarely ever regressed in public. Had done so maybe two times out of the more than three dozens that Stede had been around for so far. Despite the unusual environment it was a smooth transition though, going from butter connoisseur to caregiver.
„Yes, darling?“
Izzy’s gaze was focused on a display of chocolates and other sweets a few feet down the aisle.
„Christmas candy.“ He said and then nothing more.
„It is!“ Stede agreed. „They start putting it out earlier and earlier each year, don’t they?“
Izzy nodded in agreement and fisted his hand in Stede’s sleeve, not taking his eyes off the display.
Stede looked over his shoulder inconspicuously. The store wasn’t busy at all, only a few other people out doing their shopping, but that was to be expected when you came at 9 am on a Saturday.
„How about you pick out something you like from the Christmas candies, darling? Oh, or better two somethings, Baba will want to have his candy tax after all.“
Izzy then looked at him, surprise evident on his face: „I can?!“ he asked and Stede suddenly got the distinct impression that he hadn’t been allowed to pick some extra treats when he went shopping with his mom as an actual child very often.
„Of course! Do you want me to come with you or can I stay here at the butter?“
„Um. You can stay here, Dada. But don’t go away!“ He said and narrowed his eyes in a very adult-Izzy way.
„Never, darling! Go on then.“ He said and gave Izzy an encouraging pat on the back, sending him off.
He decided on the Irish butter and placed some tubs of yogurt and a packet of premade pudding cups in their cart since the dairy products all were next to each other. He quickly checked their shopping list, relieved that they had already most of it in their cart, except for the fresh produce. He was debating whether to get the normal oranges or splurge on the organic ones when Izzy reappeared next to him. He was holding one of the chocolate Santas in one hand and a packet of glazed gingerbread cookies in the other.
„Ah! Those look delicious, dear, do you want to put them in the cart or hold them yourself?“
„Cart.“ Izzy mumbled and put the candies down. He reached out for Stedes hand instead, gripping it tightly.
To everyone else it probably looked like some harmless PDA, but Stede knew it meant Izzy wasn’t feeling all that well. Regressing in public made him nervous, as did everything that was related to anyone but him and Ed knowing about his regression at all, and even an almost deserted Trader Joe’s was stressful for him due to that. Frankly, Stede was surprised he had gone the few feet to get the candy by himself.
„C’mon now, darling.“ He said, squeezing his hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it. „We’ve just got to get the fruits and veggies and then we’ll be on our way. Do you want to push the shopping cart?“
Izzy shook his head in declination and they made their way to the produce section. He fidgeted with the carts little lock chain while Stede did decide on the organic oranges, as well as some kale, iceberg lettuce and potatoes.
„Alrighty then! How about we pick some baby food in those little jars you like while we’re here already? I’ve completely forgotten how many we have left at home.“
He nodded and they made their way over to the section with the baby food, Stede beginning to stack different jars in their cart.
„Should we get some of the salty ones, do you think?“ He teased and Izzy stopped from fiddling with the chocolate Santa he had taken in his hand again.
„No!“ he said, absolutely appalled. „Sweet only.“
„I’m just teasing, darling, don’t worry.“ Stede laughed. Izzy absolutely hated the jars that were supposed to be savoury to the point of refusing to swallow the food even if it was already in his mouth. Though to be fair, after Stede had tried a spoonful of the risotto and salmon mash he had been trying to get into him with no success he couldn’t exactly blame him. Salt might be unnecessary for actual infants, but after decades of eating normally, unsalted baby food was practically intolerable.
He was pulled from his thoughts by Izzy tugging on his sleeve again, wearing a distinctly uncomfortable expression.
„Dada. I have to go potty.“
Stede cringed. The worst nightmare of any parent who took their small child out of training pants to a public space.
„Ah. Do you need to go right now or can you hold it for a bit? We’ve got all our stuff now we only have to go pay.“
Izzy licked over his lips and seemed to think for a moment. „Hold it.“ He eventually murmured.
„Alright then, but do tell me if you have to go, we can leave the cart alone for a while if we need to.“
He briskly walked them over to the nearest cashier because of course the self-serve registers were closed and he sighed in relief when he saw that there was only one elderly man in the line before them.
That relief was short lived though when they were done putting their stuff on the band and it became apparent that the grandpa before them seemed to want to pay in cash. And not only cash, but the exact price. In coins.
Stede tried to suppress his annoyed huffing and puffing, he was trying to be less bitchy recently, but he couldn’t help but to glance over at Izzy who was squirming next to him.
He leant over, taking his hand in his. „Alright?“ he whispered.
Izzy nodded and lifted his hand to his mouth, running his thumb over his lips. Stede would have to check if they happened to have a pacifier somewhere in the car.
Finally, Methusalem was done paying and he rushed to pack their groceries in the reusable bags they had brought, chatting nervously with the cashier, probably in stark contrast to Izzy who was not saying a word. Perhaps he was being too unnecessarily anxious but an accident in public would be a worst case scenario. Stede hadn’t even brought spare pants.
Izzy was trailing closely behind him as they left the packing area and quickly walked to the restrooms by the stores exit. Stede deposited the shopping cart with the filled bags next to the doorway and just hoped that no one would bother to steal their groceries, he had put the most boring looking purchases on top inside the bags on purpose.
„Go on then,“ he muttered and gently ushered Izzy into the handicapped bathroom. He hated to use it when it wasn’t really supposed to be for them, but he doubted other men in the regular restroom staring at them would help at the moment. Besides, he wasn’t sure how much help Izzy would end up needing and he couldn’t exactly provide any through a stall door. Izzy’s ability to use the restroom entirely depended on how far he regressed, ranging from complete indepence to having to use nappies for his business. He didn’t seem to be too small right now but Stede would rather be safe than sorry.
He locked the door behind them while Izzy began to fiddle with his belt.
„Dada…?“
„Ah, let me darling.“ He said and quickly unbuckled it and opened the button of his trousers. Belts weren’t exactly something they dressed him in when he was little and neither were pants with push buttons.
Izzy quickly stalked over to the toilet and Stede turned to face the wall, giving him a bit of privacy. He didn’t miss the relieved sigh he let out as he sat down though and had to suppress a chuckle.
„You’re feeling all better now, aren’t you darling?“
„Yeah.“
„Don’t forget to wipe when you’re done.“
„Yuh.“
He turned back around again when he heard the toilet flush and helped Izzy put the buttons and belt back into place, feeling just a tiny bit proud when he went to wash his hands all on his own. Meant all the gentle reminders at home were starting to pay off.
„There we go! Ready to head home?“
Izzy nodded and wiped his wet hands on his shirt, they’d have to work on using paper towels next.
By the time they were back at the car with their (unstolen!) groceries, Stede had to remind him not to put his thumb in his mouth two times while they were still outside and it became apparent that he was slipping further down now that they were out of the store.
„Do you want to listen to your tunes while we drive?“ He asked while he buckled Izzy in and walked around the car to the drivers side. Izzy struggled with motion sickness under normal circumstances already and the few times they had taken him for a drive while little had shown that it didn’t exactly improve when he was small. Listening to the radio or music usually distracted him enough though and they kept a CD of nursery rhymes in the car, just in case.
„Yeah. Humpty-Dumpty.“
„Yes, that is your favorite, isn’t it darling?“
Stede was about to pull out of the parking lot when he got a way better idea though.
„Izzy? Do you want to call Baba?“
Izzy turned around in his seat from looking out of the window, excitement evident on his face.
„Yes!“
„Tell the car to call Baba then, dear.“
Stedes car had voice command and usually Izzy pretended to be totally unimpressed by it, calling it a waste of money and resources. Small Izzy was delighted by their „robot car“ though.
„Call Baba!“ He shouted towards the touchpad in the middle of the dashboard.
Stede laughed and slotted into the traffic. „You have to use Babas big boy name, darling. The car doesn’t know he’s called Baba.“
Izzy leant a bit forward and Stede knew that he was trying to articulate as clearly as possible.
„Call Ed!“
„Good job, Izzy!“ Stede praised while the car beeped the dial up tone. It didn’t take long for Edward to pick up.
„Hey Stede, hey Iz. Did you bring me those yummy lavender cookies I asked for?“
Stede cringed. He knew he had forgotten something.
„Izzy regressed at the store. I think it was the Christmas displays that did it.“ He said while Izzy kept repeating Ed’s name quietly to himself next to him.
„Did he? Did you?“ Ed exclaimed in that higher pitched voice he always used with Izzy when he was little and that he refused to admit was totally baby talking.
„Uh-huh,“ Izzy answered, he was busy opening and closing the glovebox, again and again.
„Aw, that means we’ll have the whole day to play when you guys get home! Did Dada get you a treat?“
„Yeah.“ Izzy said and perked up suddenly. „Baba, I went to the potty all by myself at the store!“
Stede couldn’t suppress his laughter and Ed could barely, judging by how wheezy he sounded when he responded: „I-That’s great, buddy! Did you remember to wash your hands?“
„Yah!“
„Good job, Izzy! You’re becoming a real big boy!“
Stede saw the face he pulled out of the corner of his eye. „No.“
„No? You’re right. Obviously. You’re my little boy, Baba was just teasing you.“
Stede quickly glanced over at him while they waited at a red light. Izzy still struggled with accepting his regression at all sometimes and didn’t like to be reminded that he was technically a big boy while little either. He didn’t look upset right now though, apparently pacified by Ed backpaddling immediately. Speaking of pacifying…
„Ed, would you mind getting some of Izzy’s comfy clothes ready for when we get home? He can’t possibly stay in leather trousers.“
„Sure, mate. I’ll go get some of the onesies. When d’you think you’ll be here?“
„Oh, 15 minutes maybe. Depends on the traffic.“
„Alright then. Love you, Stede. Love you, Izzy!“ he said and started making exaggerated kissy noises at the same time Izzy yelled back: „Love you too, Baba!“
The call disconnected and Stede put on the blinker, promising Izzy to put the children’s music back on at the next red light.
They’d be home soon.