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Vox has no idea how long you've been locked in the storage room, he has no clue why you locked yourself in there. When his annoying ass assistant came over and told him you had locked yourself away he immediately thought the worst. Maybe his favoritism had gotten you berated or attacked? Maybe you messed up something really important and thought he'd be mad at you? Maybe you were hurt?!
He had to be knocking on the storage door for an hour now. Through the camera he can see you curled up on yourself on the floor. How disgusting, the floor isn't a clean place for you to be. He wishes you'd listen to him, but you just keep crying. He swears you almost sound like a baby, not in an insulting way but in a literal visceral infants cry.
God, what the fuck is he supposed to do? He begins to search online. He searches, and searches, and searches, and searches. Dammit! Why is he only finding shit?!
Vox sighs, he slumps against the door. "C'mon princess, can't you just let me in?" He asks desperate yet gentle; a surprising sound from him.
His entire system almost shuts down when he hears your soft whimper. His self restraint dies immediately. Vox travels through the electricity in the camera, appearing in front of you in a single moment. He glitches momentarily when he sees your teary eyes up close, blinking up like a little kid who was hiding from big bad monsters.
Vox isn't sure why, but without thought he scoops you up into his arms. He cradles you close, his body warming up as if to accommodate how cool your skin is. He definitely didn't do it manually because he's concerned. He turns and carries you out of the storage room and straight to the elevator.
"My office or the penthouse?" He muses, but his playful comment only makes him more concerned when you don't give one of your normal playful responses. "Okay," He says softly. "Let's go to the penthouse."
Once in the penthouse, he sits you on the couch, sitting next to you.
"So what's going on? Hm? What's with this whole..." He gestures with his hands. "Sad childish breakdown?"
Your lip wobbles, and dammit don't tell him he just hurt your feelings.
"Oh come on, don't-"
Before he can finish tears are streaming down your face. You babble sad incoherent words making Vox confused and concerned.
He frantically goes back online, searching more intently on your "symptoms". Finally he finds something called "age regression". Fuck, he has no clue if this is what you're experiencing, but it seems right. His eyes go back and forth between you and the information as you continue to cry.
Vox sighs again. "Alright, let's try this, princess."
He pulls you back into his arms. He rocks you gently telling you gentle affirmations. He shoots a text to his assistant to immediately bring him regression supplies, Vox even sends a list from the highest rated gear.
He's glad his ministrations seem to work. At least, he thinks it did cause now you're just sniffling and clinging to him.
"So, a literal little girl, huh?" He's deep in thought, all the things he's going to have to adjust to fit your regression into his schedule. "Should have told me sooner, I'll make an excellent caregiver. You can call me Dada, and you'll be my baby girl."
Vox looks down, only just realizing you had fallen asleep while he rambled. He huffs out a laugh. He bounces you lightly on his knee.
"You know... you're kinda adorable like this."
He wouldn't admit it to anyone other than his fellow Vees, but he's glad you're a regressor. It makes integrating you into his life as his baby so much easier than he initially planned.