Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I am not a professional artist, but I did do some portraits of my characters! This is how I've always imagined them. :)

Josh Harke                Ethan Lawrence                 Ryan Learman

Ryan Learman knocked on the door, three hard raps.

The neighborhood was nice, clearly well taken care of. It actually reminded him of the neighborhood he grew up in. Big houses, manicured lawns. The kind of place where the cops only got called to rescue a kitten in a tree. Not the kind of place two young men just… disappeared.

It had already been five months – his superiors told him that the trail had gone cold, and that they were probably dead, or worse.

But Ryan couldn’t let it go. The disappearances of Joshua Harke and Ethan Lawrence three days apart weighed on his consciousness. Well, that and Lacey Coleman wouldn’t stop calling him. She swore that Josh wouldn’t go missing. That he would never have left his truck in by the lake where it had been found. He’d gone to a job in Pinconning before he’d vanished off the face of the earth.

No cell phone signal. No footsteps. No security camera images. Something about it was wrong. And for Ethan to go missing only a few days after?

Everyone kept telling him that they’d just been two trouble kids who ran away from their shitty Midwestern lives. But… he just couldn’t sit with that. It didn’t fit.

He ran a hand through his short, black hair.

They’d interviewed Ella Young already, and her husband, Garrett. Their stories had been impeccable, nothing strange about their alibis whatsoever. But Ryan thought there was something about her. She was too perfect. She knew something.

So here he was, behind his superior’s backs, knocking on the door of the place Josh Harke was last seen… without clearance.

                “Hello?” It was Ella, dressed in pale blue leggings and tank top, as if she was just about to start a yoga session. “Oh. Detective… Laarman, right?” She said it wrong. She wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. Fine. Let her think he was too polite to notice.

She was pretty, in a rich-lady way. Long blonde hair, perfect strawberry lipstick, perfect pastel Lululemon and a Fendi bag on the table behind her.

                “Uh, Detective Ryan Learman, ma’am.” He said, flashing his badge. “I’m here to follow up on a new lead in the Harke and Lawrence disappearance.” Ella’s smile seemed to freeze in place, the barest tension in the corners of her eyes.

He kept his face neutral. He knew how he looked, 28, too young and clean-cut. The sharp jaw and sharp blue eyes didn’t help. People either dismissed him or tried to flirt their way around him. Neither tactic ever worked, and that was fine. He knew how to do his job. And he was going to prove it to everyone.

                “New lead?” She said, her eyes narrowing, though her posture didn’t waver.

                “Yes. New lead. I was hoping to take a look at the construction work that they did in your house before they disappeared. I think they may have left some clue behind.”

                “I doubt it.” Ella said, sighing. “We had to call in another contractor to clean up the mess those boys left.”

                “I understand. But still, I’m hoping to take a look.” He stepped forward, hoping his confidence would make Ella step to the side.

                “I’m sorry Detective, but you’ll need a warrant if you want to come inside.” Her voice was firm, but not angry. Ryan huffed.

But he was prepared.

                “Good thing I’ve got one right here, ma’am.” He held out the piece of paper. A favor from his friend at the courthouse. It wouldn’t survive legal scrutiny, but it looked official enough.

She squinted at it, then looked at him, her eyes surprisingly piercing. Like she was trying to read his mind. For a moment, he thought she might call him out, but she narrowed her eyes and smiled tightly.

                “Hmm. I suppose if you have the warrant.” She said, stepping back. Ryan nodded, taking the piece of paper back. “Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea?” Ryan shook his head.

                “No thank you. I’ll just take a quick look and be out of your hair in just a few minutes.”

Just like his parents taught him. Stay cool, stay polite, and they’ll never see you coming.

Ella retreated into the kitchen, and Ryan used the chance to look around. The house was perfect, almost too perfect.

The furniture looked like it had never been sat on, like she’d taken the plastic covers off a few minutes before he came in. The decorative fruit on the coffee table was shiny and bright in color. He tapped his finger on the apple. It was real. That stood out. He’d never seen someone maintain a decorative fruit bowl like that.

Magazines fanned out on the coffee table, untouched. Expensive ones, too. Vogue, Architectural Digest, The New Yorker.

Ryan pulled out his tape recorder. His boyfriend made fun of him for it, told him it made him look like a dorky Star Trek character. But he didn’t understand that it helped Ryan keep himself grounded in the investigation. And it didn’t matter if he looked stupid. He solved cases. He saved people.

                “Interior looks staged,” he muttered into the recorder. “Too perfect. Like nobody really lives here.”

He padded up the stairs, glancing back to the kitchen where Ella stood, polishing a glass that was already crystal clear.

                “She’s too… something. Maybe put together. Nobody’s that put together.” He mumbled into the recorder, taking in the pictures in the stairway. “Too practiced.”

Perfectly posed family photos. Ella, smiling flawlessly, her fingers hooked into her husband’s shoulder. Garrett, smart and steady. And Lily, their young daughter, all smiles and blonde curls. These photos were normal, almost perfect. But something was still off.

He walked down the hallway. The room the boys had been working in was at the end in the master bedroom.

Ella hadn’t been lying. The bathroom was now as pristine as the rest of the house. No sign that it had once been a construction site. Soft lavender washcloths, orange-blossom soap, a glass bowl full of rose bath salts.

                “It’s so clean. Do they even sleep in this bed?” He narrated, looking around. It was perfectly made, like a William Sonoma showroom. White pillows and a pale pink linen duvet cover.

There was a chair in the corner, next to the dresser. It looked like an antique. Her book sat on the dresser. An old copy of Machiavelli’s The Prince.

The walls in here felt like they were closing in on him. He checked the baseboards, under the bed, even in the closet. Everything he looked at was perfectly spotless.

                “No one hiding in here. Either they had someone else do the work or they deep cleaned the crime scene.” He said, his face twisting in a wry smile. “I’ll keep looking. There’s got to be something else. Something everyone else missed.”

He went to the next door down the hallway. The daughter’s room.

Immediately, he felt a shiver go down his back. It looked like a standard child’s room, pink walls, scattered toys, a soft flower-shaped rug on the floor. But compared to the rest of the house, there was something different in here. Instead of the sterile smell of lemon cleaner and lavender, it  smelled like artificial strawberry and clean laundry.

                “This is the daughter’s room. It’s totally different in here. Messier. It… doesn’t feel staged.” He narrated into the recorder.

He stepped around the room, quickly taking in the various details. A doll’s table in the corner with a purple plastic tea set arranged around the spots. A painted white dresser next to a flouncy pink bed. An antique wooden toybox at the foot of the bed.

There was a pile of blocks in the corner and a chest of drawers filled with art supplies. She’d pasted up drawings on the walls. Drawings of a little blonde girl with two fairies fluttering around her.

His eyes caught on something, lying on the table. With two quick steps he walked over, letting his knee hit the floor as he bent down.

                “What the hell—?” He murmured, picking up what looked like a miniscule tan jacket. It was so soft between his fingers, the weave of the fabric too close. It didn’t feel like a tiny jacket sewn for a doll. It felt like something real. Something somebody wore. And there, sewn into the miniscule chest pocket – Carhartt.

                “Wait, I know this. Same thing he was wearing when he disappeared.” He said, pulling out his notebook.

Joshua Harke – 6’3”, 24, years old, white, dark hair, brown eyes. Last seen wearing a tan Carhartt jacket, black shirt, jeans and Carolina steel toe boots.

This jacket – it could just be a coincidence. It could be an expensive piece for a collector’s doll, something custom-done.

But something in him didn’t think it was. Why would there be a tiny replica of a missing person’s jacket in this little girl’s room?

He set the miniature jacket down, back where he’d found it. Something else on the floor caught his eye, something tiny, under the table.

It looked like a doll’s accessory, maybe a doll’s purse? He caught the tiny tan object between his fingernails and set it in his palm. It was a little canvas boot. So detailed it almost didn’t seem possible. The jacket was one thing, but this? He’d never seen doll shoes that looked like this. The laces were nothing more than threads! The rubber soles still had tread. There was even a tiny “Size 12” on the bottom. He leaned in even closer.

It didn’t have the manufacturing tells of a tiny object. No loss of detail. No printing smears. He wrinkled his nose, then his eyes widened. He leaned closer. The boot had a smell to it. Like it had actually been worn by somebody. Somebody who was actually alive and sweating in these thing.

Something stirred in his gut. Mateo called them hunches, but Ryan scoffed at the term. That made it sound like it wasn’t just good investigative work.

                “I just found what looks like a miniature boot and jacket.” He said into the recorder, hoping that narrating his find would help ground him. “The boot says size twelve, but it can’t be more than half an inch. Probably the most detailed thing I’ve ever seen. It smells like it’s been worn recently. None of this is adding up.”

He looked around the room, hoping to find the doll that this belonged with. But… there weren’t any dolls on the shelves. None on the table. He furrowed his brow.

                “Where did this thing come from?”

Ethan had jumped out of his skin when the door first slammed open. It didn’t sound like Lily. The footsteps were so fast and so heavy. He peered through a crack in the side, his breath catching as he saw what – or who – was in the room.

A towering man dressed in dark blue with shiny black shoes, a badge and a gun dangling from his belt. God, a giant cop.

It was how Josh had once looked to Ethan, when Ethan had been even smaller than he was now. But this man moved faster and heavier. Every step shook the floor. He didn’t move with Josh’s gentle grace.

                “Josh!” Ethan hissed, waving him over. Josh was up, looking through the crack, just in time to hear the man say something into a recorder.

His voice was so loud. It boomed overhead like a bomb going off. And something he said stood out –

Same thing he was wearing when he disappeared.

Josh’s heart leapt into overdrive. He was looking for them. But Josh didn’t feel relief. He felt cold. Josh clutched Ethan’s arm and pressed his finger to his mouth, shushing him. This man was a danger. His bootsteps were heavier than he could even imagine. One single step would be enough to pulverize either of them in an instant.

The man dropped his pencil, and it crashed to the floor like a steel beam. He moved like a collapsing building, his thick fingers curling around the dropped implement, snatching it up roughly.  Josh’s eyes were trained on the hands. Like they were claws.

Ethan felt Josh’s grip tighten on his arm, and glanced down, confused. He pulled his arm free, trying to understand.

                “Isn’t this good? He could get us out of here!” He whispered, searching Josh’s face. Something was wrong. Josh’s eyes were stretched wide with terror. He looked smaller than he ever had, even when Lily clutched him in her fist.

                “He could grab us. You don’t know… we don’t know what he’d do with us.” Josh whispered, his voice raw.

Josh’s hands were trembling. Ethan peeked through the hole again.

                “He’s a cop, Josh.” Ethan whispered.

                “So’s my stepdad. Never stopped him.” Josh snapped, his gut curled with something hot and tense.

The detective took a step towards them, and Josh was moving before Ethan could react. His hands dug into Ethan’s arms, yanking him into the corner. Josh planted his back against the corner, pulling Ethan to the floor with him, huddling and shaking.

Ethan sat down in front of him, placing Josh’s hand on the center of his back.

Josh’s hand moved like it used to, with slow strokes, up and down Ethan’s spine. He calmed, bit by bit. Ethan stayed still. He knew how this went.

                “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. He’s not going to find us.” Ethan purposefully slowed his breath, relaxed his own muscles. Slowly, Josh began to calm down. His hand never left Ethan’s back. Like always, Ethan brought him back.

They could still hear the massive detective moving around, thundering bootsteps that shook them where they huddled.

Josh only whispered a prayer.

                “Please don’t find us. Please don’t find us.”

Ryan sighed, staring at the boot in the center of his hand. A miniature Timberland.

Ethan Lawrence – white, 24 years old, 5’9”, red hair, green eyes. Last seen wearing a black hoodie. Jeans. Timberland boots. Size 12.

He glanced down at the boot. Size 12 stamped on the heel, but doll clothes didn’t have sizes. Or did that? And why was it here?

But before he could continue, the door cracked open. He slipped the boot into his pocket.

                “I hope your investigation is going well.” Ella said, her frame resting delicately on the frame of the door. Ryan jumped, startled.

                “I- I… Yes. Everything’s progressing well.” Ryan stammered.

                “I have to be somewhere in a few minutes. Do you think you’ll be much longer?” She asked, her tone even and soft. Ryan shook his head.

                “Ah, no. I think I’ve seen enough.” Ella smiled evenly at him, motioning for him to follow. Her smile was perfectly symmetrical, but... it didn't quite reach her eyes. He shivered.

                “I appreciate your dedication, detective. Those poor boys… I hope that case is solved, someday.” Ella said, her voice almost musical as she led him down the stairway. There was something about her voice. She didn't sound sad, she just sounded disconnected. Something about her was just so wrong.

Ryan shivered. Each step down the stairs felt like he was descending deeper into a lion’s den.

                “Do you know anything about that jacket? Where did it come from?” His mouth was opening and speaking before he could soften the question. Ella paused, her fingers delicately perched on the railing.

                “An expensive replica.” She said, her voice light. “My daughter collects dolls. We had it custom made.”

There was something about the way she said it. It could have been true, she certainly looked like they had enough money for things like that. But the way she said it felt so rehearsed. 

His body told him to leave. His training agreed.

But something in his brain told him he needed to look further. The jacket and boot weren’t toys. This woman wasn’t innocent, she knew something. If he let the investigation end here, he would always wonder, and Josh and Ethan would never find peace.

He let Ella usher him out of the door, already thinking about how he was going to get himself back inside. He shivered, struck with how sharp and cold the outside air felt in his lungs outside. He hadn’t realized how stifling the air was inside that house.

He knew the report would go nowhere. He didn’t have any evidence. He hadn’t uncovered the bodies. This visit already meant hours of paperwork.

But his gut was louder than the paperwork. The boot… that was real. And Ella Young knew more than she let show.

He had to go back. Next time, he’d be prepared.

Chapter Text

Ryan sat in his apartment, the miniature boot sitting in his palm. It was just a replica. An incredibly detailed piece of custom work.

But it had tiny scuffs on the heel, smaller than any manufacturing tool could make. But the tiny Timberland logo was stamped into the size, visible under his magnifying glass. But it smelled like it had been worn. Who replicated worn?

He pulled out his notebook, opening it up and setting the boot right next to it.

Ethan Lawrence. Timberlands. Size 12.

It almost felt like a sick joke. Who would go to the trouble of creating this tiny little thing, only to abandon it under a table? How was it possible that he found a replica of the exact  boots of one of the victims, rendered in such perfect miniature?

                “You’re going to give yourself a headache, amor.” Mateo said, placing his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan looked up, smiling.

                “It’s just… it’s just these details.” He said, looking back down at the boot. “Something’s not right.”

                “It’s just a doll’s shoe.” Mateo said, kissing the top of Ryan’s head gently. “It was in a girl’s room. Perhaps you’re just looking for trouble.”

                “But it’s not!” Ryan said, grabbing his laptop and opening it. “See, look. The smallest I can find is a 1/6^th scale model of a boot like this. Not nearly as small as this one.”

He scrolled through the listing photos. Even those were extremely expensive.

                “It’s not mass manufactured.” Ryan said, squinting at the little thing in his hand. “It’s too well-made.”

                “So? Maybe she’s got some kind of connections. Some kind of special manufacturer.”

                “No, I don’t think so.” He closed the laptop and reached for a yellow mailer, dumping out several miniature Timberland boots.

                “Ryan.” Mateo sighed. “How many of these did you buy?”

                “Please, just look.” Ryan said, turning his brown eyes up to his boyfriend’s. Mateo smiled, letting out a small huff. He picked up the magnifying glass and peered at the various boots with a critical eye.

                “See, this one’s three times the size, and it’s a mess. Smeared printing, gouges from the tools they used, and the tread is a mess.” Ryan said, pointing at one of them. “This one’s a bit smaller, and a bit more detailed, but this one doesn’t have tread at all. And look at the threads on this one. Bulky stitching.”

                “I see… this one here is missing the words altogether. It just has lines instead.” Mateo noted, earning a smile from Ryan.

                “Right. So it’s not from any of these custom doll companies.”

He reach over for the boot he’d found in Lily’s room.

                “But this one…” He nudged the tiny object with the tip of his pen. “It’s perfect. Nothing is smudged. The tread is rendered exactly as a Timberland would be.” He opened the laptop again, showing Mateo the tread pattern.

                “I see. It’s exact, down the to the number of diamonds here.”

                “And the size… it says Size 12, right there.” Ryan said, pointing at the sole. “I did some math here. And the doll that would be wearing this boot would be around four or five inches tall.”

                “Impressive work, amor.” Mateo said, but his eyes were worried. “But… don’t let this swallow you, okay?”

                “I won’t, Teo. Anyway – here, look at the dolls I found in that four inch size range.” He tapped rapidly on the laptop, then turned the screen.

                “Ah, baby dolls. Or… a doll for a baby.” Mateo said, tapping his lip.

                “Right. And look – I only found a few action figures that could even wear shoes like this. Even the custom-made dolls in this size are… well…”

                “Okay, yeah, I see it. They kinda… and the boot’s really well made.”

                “Exactly. There’s so much loss of detail, even in the ones that look well crafted. You’d be putting this kind of beautiful custom leatherwork on something that looks like a GI-Joe. Something’s just not adding up.”

He paused, then grinned.

“Here. Lean down, and smell this one.”

                “Ach! What is that smell?” Mateo said, his face crinkled in disgust.

                “Feet, right? Like leather, and sweat. It smells like this boot was worn. Maybe not recently, but here.” He pushed the tiny replicas to Mateo. “Smell.”

Mateo raised an eyebrow, but he did it.

                “Ah, just leather and plastic.”

                “I’m not sure how they did it. I mean – who wants their doll clothes to smell like they’ve been worn? It seems impossible.” He pursed his lips. “It is impossible.”

                “But what does it mean?” Mateo asked, setting the magnifying glass down on the table. Ryan placed his hands over his face. “You don’t think… you think this is evidence, don’t you. You don’t think this is a doll’s boot?”

                “I don’t know. It has to mean something. It’s so detailed – exactly like the missing persons report. Why would someone replicate something like this? Especially in the place that Lawrence was last seen.”

                “You’re not planning on going there again, are you? I don’t want you getting yourself in trouble, cara.” Mateo placed his arms around Ryan’s shoulders, setting his lips into his thick, black hair. “Don’t think I don’t see that you haven’t been sleeping.”

                “I – No, not yet. But something’s off here, Teo. And I can’t just ignore it.”

                “I know, I know.” Mateo reached over, shutting Ryan’s laptop. “But please, come to bed. You’ll feel better and think clearer if you get some sleep.”

Ryan let Mateo lift him out of his chair and walk him to the bedroom. But he couldn’t shake off the strangeness of the boot.

It couldn’t have been real. It shouldn’t be real. But somehow, it was.

And he was going to figure out how.

Ethan stared at the single Timberland boot sitting in the corner. The Timberlands had sat together in their usual corner, beside Josh’s steel-toed Carolinas and Ethan’s hoodie. A relic of before.

Before he’d hurt his ankle. Before he’d stopped walking places. Before he was just a thing that people carried from place to place like a plush toy.

But now there was only one. His breath caught.

                “Josh?” He asked, looking over where Josh was whittling something out of an old popsicle stick. “Where’s my other boot?” He tried to hide the anxiety in his voice. Josh picked up on it anyway.

                “Didn’t Lily put them in here with you the other night?”

                “No… Well, at least, there’s only one here.” Ethan said, kneeling down to check around the floor. Maybe he was just missing it.

                “Where did she take them off?” Josh asked, walking over to look with him.

                “She… she took them off by the table. I think I saw her toss them there.” Josh felt his stomach grow cold.

                “That guy… That cop. He was there.” He said. Ethan bit his lip.

                “You don’t think… he didn’t…?”

                “Okay, let’s not panic. One of us can ask Lily next time we’re out, okay? I’m sure it’s just on the table. Maybe it fell on the floor and she didn’t see it.” Josh said, but something was churning in his gut.

The detective had pocketed something before he left. Neither of them saw what it was.

Ethan was already panicking.

They were supposed to be there. He wasn’t going to wear them – not unless he was asked to, but they belonged to him. He didn’t own anything else. They meant he wasn’t… nothing. One of his only possessions were in the hands of someone else.

It wasn’t that the idea of that man returning scared him. Ethan had been carried by hands bigger than mattresses. He’d been pressed into Josh’s palms for days at a time. Being handled by a stranger didn’t scare him anymore.

But what would this guy think of him?

He’d seen how small his boots would look between someone’s fingers. What was this strange detective thinking as he looked at Ethan’s boot? Did he think it was a keychain? An accessory for a doll? A child’s craft project? Or… did he already suspect more?

And if that guy knew what they were, if he understood they weren’t doll clothes or accessories, then he’d know the truth. He would know everything. That they’d belonged to a man so small, he could be cradled in one hand. That this was the size of his shoes. That this was how low he’d been brought.

How easy it was to mistake Ethan for a pet. A doll. A little thing that didn’t have thoughts and feelings and dreams.

Because, well, Ethan knew what it looked like. He’d held Josh himself in his own palms. Had seen his own boots between Josh’s fingernails. He’d seen the difference scale made in a man.

And he knew exactly how someone like Ryan would see him now. Small. A helpless little thing. A victim.

And that… that was unbearable.

Chapter Text

Ryan wanted to do things the right way. He really did. But what was he supposed to tell his Seargent?

That he was stuck on a doll’s boot as proof in a missing person’s case? That he had reason to believe there was something strange going on, not because of the evidence, but because he had something that shouldn’t exist?

He’d already run the reports. He checked every collector’s site, every doll shoe storefront, every plausible explanation. But... none of it explained why it smelled like sweat! Why the tread was worn in ways machines couldn’t replicate. Why it looked used. Not made for a plastic doll, actually worn. Like… on a foot.

What did that mean?

Mateo thought he was losing it. Maybe he was. But if this wasn’t a doll’s accessory… if it was taken off something – or someone… then what the hell had he missed inside that house?

He couldn’t call in another favor from his friend at the courthouse. His Seargent had told him to leave the case alone. Mateo had begged him to come back to bed. He gripped the tiny boot between his fingertips.

And stepped out of his car.

The family was gone. The house was empty. Ella – tennis match. Garrett – work, then golf. Lily – dance practice. He had two hours before Garrett and Lily would be home. He planned on using that time to his advantage.

If I don’t find anything, I walk. If I do find something – that’s probable cause. I’ll get my warrant.

He could look in vents – under furniture. Inside drawers. Everywhere he couldn’t look when that woman was lurking over his shoulder.

The lock was easy to pick. He couldn’t stop the guilty feeling in his gut as he forced his way into the home, but he couldn’t let up on this new lead, either. The house was the same perfectly oppressive suburban showroom. Even the air was stifling. He didn’t pause as he charged up the stairs, back into the little girl’s room. The first thing he wanted to do was find the other boot.

The room itself was nearly the same. A different arrangement of dishes on the table. A pile of building blocks in the corner. It felt staged. Like the rest of damn house.

He knelt down by the table, peering where he’d found the little boot, flicking his flashlight over the rug. Nothing.

                “Dammit, there’s got to be something!” He said, gritting his teeth.

The miniature Carhartt jacket was gone. No second boot.

Of course this couldn’t be easy. He stood, walking over to the dresser, and carefully opened each one, peering at the neat rows of shirts and dresses. Nothing out of the ordinary in here. Same with the collection of knickknacks and ceramic figures on top.

His eyes fell to the toybox. Well, if he was looking for dolls and doll clothes…

He stepped over, his footsteps falling heavy as he approached. With careful fingers, he lifted the lid and looked in.

Two tiny faces looked up at him.

They weren’t just dolls, they were replicas. Perfect, down to the hair, eyes and tiny clothes. Josh Harke. Ethan Lawrence. Like action figures on display.

                “Oh, god.” He said, furrowing his brow. “That’s just…”

His brain floundered for an explanation. What was this, a custom job? Some kind of twisted tribute? Who the hell would make something like this? God, that was freaky. 

His eyes widened as one of them blinked. One of their limbs twitched. It was like watching a wind-up doll come to life. They scrambled, tiny limbs moving with impossible dexterity, running. Away from him. His mouth fell open. They disappeared between two stuffed animals sitting near the back, like mice vanishing into the walls.

He blinked at the empty space they’d been standing in, his heart pounding and vision tunneling. What the… what the hell did he just see?

Ryan was moving before he could even think. He grabbed the stuffed animals, tossing them to the floor behind him and revealing the two miniature figures. Carefully, he knelt down and looked closer. One of them – Josh, it looked like, threw himself in front of the other, one hand extended. Ryan couldn’t help but marvel at the tiny fingers. That entire hand wouldn’t even cover his fingertip.

And still, this tiny little miracle held it out as if it would stop him.

                “S-stay away!” Josh shouted, eyeing Ryan’s hands like he was watching a predator poised to strike.

                “I’m – whoa – I’m not going to hurt you,” Ryan said quickly, but the two of them flinched hard at the sound of his voice. He winced. Too loud. “Sorry,” he added, lowering it to a whisper.

The one in front was definitely Joshua Harke. His face was the same. Everything was the same, just… smaller, like a resized photo or something. The other – Ethan, then – was staring up at him, completely frozen, his green eyes wide. Not with fear. Something like curiosity.

Then Ryan saw the socks on his feet. If that was Ethan Lawrence, and he'd been last seen wearing Timberlands, size 12, then maybe...

                “Oh.” He whispered, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the boot. “Is this… is this yours?” He said, and proffered the boot towards the two of them.

Josh bristled like a cornered animal, tension visible in every line of his posture.

                “Don’t touch him!” Josh shouted, his tiny arm trembling visibly.

But Ethan stepped forward, putting his hand on Josh’s arm. A silent signal. He reached out to the boot, pinched delicately between Ryan’s fingertips. Ethan’s little fingers brushed against Ryan’s, and he shivered. His touch was feather-light. He grabbed the boot, holding it close to his chest.

Ryan felt a sense of vindication underneath his amazement. He was right! Jesus, he was right! It wasn’t just a doll’s shoe. It wasn’t a replica. It had been worn and owned by this man who stood smaller than Ryan’s middle finger.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but the truth was staring him right in the face. Josh and Ethan hadn’t disappeared, they’d been taken. Kidnapped!

And Ryan had found them.

Chapter Text

Josh’s stomach churned at the impossible, awful situation that they’d found themselves in.

Ethan was still standing there, staring up, a soft, curious expression on his face. Ryan’s hand opened, stretching, fingers wide, for the tiny little redhead.  Ethan didn’t run, but he made a subtle movement, a repositioning of his limbs, preparing himself to be held.

Josh couldn’t stand still. The moment he saw Ethan prepare himself to be picked up, something primal in his brain reacted.

                “Get the hell away from him!” He dashed forward, shoving Ethan forward, watching him hit the floor—

Then Ryan’s fingers closed – not around Ethan. Around Josh.

He saw the shadow descend first, then was hit by the heat. His body tensed – and the wall of flesh descended.

The first thing that struck him was the smell. Ella’s hands were heady with the scent of hand lotion and lemon. Lily’s were like wax and sugar. Ethan’s hands had smelled of sawdust, for as short as he’d actually been in them.

But here, the air went foul in an instant. Sweat, old carpet, and the sharpness of salt and skin clogged his lungs, sticking in his head like cotton. The heat wrapped around him like a musty blanket.

The fingers were completely closed around him, pressing his face into the base of Ryan’s thumb. The skin shifted around him with every breath. It was slick with grease in some places, calluses like concrete scraped across his cheek. Gritty sand like pebbles scraped into Josh’s exposed skin.

He could feel every shifting of muscle under the thick skin, the heartbeat that pounded all around him. He couldn’t even curl forward, one knee was jammed against his chest, one arm pinned to his side, the other awkwardly folded to his body.

He was overcome with helplessness. At the hands of a stranger, and worse, a man.

Josh panicked. He let out a rough scream and he started to struggle. He threw his body back and forth, fighting for breathing room. He threw his arms against the leathery skin, tried to kick his legs, thrashing as hard as he could.

                “Let go! Fuck you, let me go!”

He felt the dizzying vertigo of being moved, and his panic kicked into overdrive. He could barely hear Ethan’s voice, muffled by a wall of flesh and blood and bones, and fought again.

He kicked until his legs cramped, strained his arms until his muscles screamed at him. He shouted curses until his throat felt like it had been grated with sandpaper.

And then – the hand finally opened.

The cold air stung his sweat-soaked skin, causing him to break out in goosebumps. He took in a ragged gulp of the fresh air, nearly choking on it in shallow gasps.

His muscles gave out as he collapsed into the center of this man’s palm. He scrambled up, looked over the side –

Dammit. He’d been lifted up, far off the ground. He could see Ethan still in the box, looking up, shouting something he could barely hear over the roaring of blood in his own ears. He turned, staring in a pair of huge sapphire blue eyes that regarded him with both worry and amazement.

Ryan knew the second he closed his fingers that something was wrong. He’d reached for the quiet redhead, the one who didn’t seem afraid of him. He wanted to know more about him – how was he possible? How could a person be so small?

They looked real, but so did projections. CGI. Even puppets, if they were well made. It could still be some kind of trick. A convincing show meant to confuse him. But… there was something so intricate about their movements.

The tiny version of Ethan had even braced for him – and he hadn’t run. Ryan’s fingers had prepared for softness, pliant warmth.

But then the other one intervened.

His hands closed around a tiny figure, and was struck immediately by how wrong it felt. It was warm and alive and moving, like he’d just grabbed a mouse or something else. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Dead weight, maybe. A weightless little figurine that happened to be able to move. Intricate clockwork, or an enchanted cloth doll.

The tiny man was struggling, squirming against his grip with his entire body. He could feel tiny limbs, no thicker than pencils, pressed up against his palms. Tiny muscles strained and bulged against his fingers.

He could feel the shifting of tiny bones beneath skin as thin as paper. A tiny ribcage. A delicate spine. Up against the base of his thumb he could feel the scrape of stubble on a cheek the size of a wrinkle in his hand.

Ryan’s hand was lifting before he realized, bringing the tiny marvel closer to his face. He hadn’t meant to take him away, but his instincts demanded a closer look.

A heartbeat, rapid and tiny, like a mouse’s, fluttered against his skin. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Josh’s chest, barely able to press against his callused fingers.

It was fascinating. It was wrong.

A tiny voice, quiet and muffled by his own skin, finally broke through his haze of wonder.

                “Fuck you! Let me go!”

Words. Coherent words, shouted by the tiny little thing in his palm. No… not a thing. A man. A human, just like him.

Joshua Harke, 6’3”, white, dark hair, brown eyes. And Ryan was holding him, completely restrained and totally overwhelmed without a chance to defend himself.

He opened his hand, his eyes wide as Josh collapsed into the curve of his palm below, his tiny limbs sprawled awkwardly, gasping for breath. He felt his stomach twist with guilt as he watched him recover, his tiny limbs shaking.

He couldn’t believe what he was looking at. A guy. A grown man – rendered in perfect miniature. The movements were familiar, but on a scale he never could have imagined.

Did I hurt him?

Josh crawled over, peered over the side of his hand.

Oh shit, he’s really high up.

Tiny eyes looked back at him, clouded with fury and fear, and his own eyes widened in return. Ryan was supposed to be saving them. But this little guy didn’t look rescued, he looked pissed off.

God, I could have broken him.

I had him in my hand – my goddamn hand! And he was trusting me not to close my hand any tighter. How the hell could he trust me with that?

The weight of what he was holding finally settled onto his shoulders. Not just a living doll. A man. Josh was so small that he couldn’t even fend off being picked up. How helpless was he, really?

What if Ryan dropped him? Ripped a limb off? Crushed him in his fist, feeling bones snap beneath his fingers? He felt overcome with nausea. Josh sat, staring up accusingly with his tiny face arranged in a glare.

Ugh, god, he’d never want to be this small.

                “Shit – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said, wincing. Josh scoffed.

                “Fuck you, man! Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Ryan’s mouth opened, then closed.

                “Uh, no. I don’t. I – I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I guess, I don’t know. Shit.”

                “You think sorry makes it better?” His voice cracked under the strain. “You almost crushed me! I felt my ribs bending. You got a tight grip.” Josh said, bitterly, running his miniscule hands along his sides. He winced.

Ryan felt a little more guilt build in his stomach, but it was tempered again with the awe of watching Josh move. It was impossible. It was the exact movements he knew from looking at other people, just… unbelievably small.

                “Sorry – I didn’t realize… I mean—"

                “Don’t say sorry. Just… put me down.” Josh snapped.

Ryan almost didn’t want to. He could feel each of Josh’s adjustments, the dexterity of his tiny fingers as they pressed into his palm.

But… what would that feel like? Gripped in a hand with no control? Held by someone just because they didn’t want to let you go?

He glanced down, where Ethan still stood in the toybox, staring up. His gave didn’t waver. He still didn’t look afraid of Ryan, but he did look worried for Josh.

                “Can you… Can you let him down?” Ethan shouted, waving an arm. Ryan swallowed.

                “Yeah, of course. Here.” He said, and lowered his open hand back into the toybox, hyperaware of every jostle, every muscle twitch. He flattened the back of his hand into the toybox and watched as Josh crawled off his palm, into Ethan’s arms.

His knees, his tiny socked feet – each a little pinprick of movement was barely a tickle on the skin of his palm.

A grown man, reduced to something like this. It was just… incredible.

He carefully lowered himself down to the floor so he didn’t loom over the two shrunken men.

Because that’s what they were. There was no other explanation. The tiny boot – Timberland, Size 12 – had once been real. Miniaturized, along with the man who wore it.

And he hadn’t even introduced himself yet. He’d just reached for them, like they belonged with the toys that surrounded them.

                “My name is Detective Ryan Learman. And I’ve been looking for you guys.” Ryan said, trying to offer a confident smile, but it felt a little tight around the corners. “I mean… you are Joshua Harke and Ethan Lawrence… right?” Ryan said taking a breath. These two little guys looked like the pictures he’d seen, but…

He looked down where the two were standing, still staring up at him. Josh, like Ryan was about to go stampeding through a city block, and Ethan, still standing almost perfectly still with wide green eyes. It was just hard to believe that he was looking at people! Tiny, four inch little people.

                “Yeah, we’re really us.” Josh said, his little voice harsh. “I know we look a little different, but… we’re still people.” His voice was bitter and Ryan’s mouth twisted.

                “Well, your case has been cold for a long time, but… I never really gave up.” Ryan said, smiling wryly.

Josh felt the words like a punch to the gut. Someone had been looking for them. He was a missing person. Not a toy. A person.

                “Our case went cold? How long… how long has it been?” Ethan asked, though he wasn’t sure he was ready to know.

                “Five months and five days since Josh was reported missing.” Ryan said, flipping open his notebook. The pages would have been big enough to be a mattress for those boys. He blinked. “Five months and two days since Ethan was reported missing.”

Ethan swallowed, hard. Five months and two days. He hadn’t been expecting that. He wasn’t sure if he’d thought it was shorter or longer. Time had dilated so much when he’d been ¼ inch tall. He knew he’d passed his birthday in July, but… He’d stopped bothering to count the days at all. Five… it was such a human number.

“Something always bothered me about the case. And…” Ryan said, flipping through his notes. “I kept getting calls from a Lacey Coleman. She never gave up.” Josh froze.

Lacey, his girlfriend. He hadn’t even spoken about her in weeks. He thought about her, sometimes. Less and less as time went on. But she’d never stopped thinking about him. Josh blinked, tears instantly forming in his eyes. Because he wasn’t the man she remembered anymore. He didn’t even feel close to him anymore.

He had to think about how different they were, now. She still thought he was a missing person. Not a toy. Not a pet kept in a toybox that belonged to a little girl.

And if she ever saw him, what would she see? The man she loved? Or a broken little thing that just looked like him?

                “Fuck… She really kept calling?” Josh said, his voice cracking. Ryan glanced at his notes – where he’d tracked her calls.

                “Basically every day. She raised hell with my Sergeant when he said we were letting it go. She refused to let me give up.” Ryan smiled, then glanced down at Josh. His expression was so sad, and Ryan wondered what that felt like.

To realize that someone was still looking for you. Someone that outsized you twenty times. Ethan placed a hand on Josh’s shoulder. Josh flinched, just a little.

                “You good?” He whispered, so the giant couldn’t hear him. Josh nodded.

                “Yeah. I think – I think my soul left my body earlier. But yeah. Sure.” Ethan smiled.

                “We could get out of here.”

They both looked up at the giant detective. They could get out. This man could lift them both into his palms, carrying them out the door.

But what would happen to them then? They couldn’t live on their own, someone would have to take care of them. Someone would still own them. Lacey, maybe. Ethan’s family.

They’d both thought about it, late at night, when they couldn’t sleep. It was something that neither of them really wanted to think about too hard, because the idea felt so impossible. And now they were staring down the barrel of a rescue.

                “Can you get us out of here?” Ethan asked, his voice tight, digging his nails into his palm. Ryan looked down at them, his heart immediately in his throat.

Could he get them out of there? Sure, he could reach in and grab them. Carry them outside. Put them in his squad car cupholder. But what was the protocol for two four-inch men? Were they even victims anymore? Or were they specimens? Evidence?

Images passed through his mind unbidden. Ethan, stuffed into a labelled evidence tube like a DNA swab, limbs bent wrong, sealed in plastic.

 Josh, smothered in a polyethylene evidence bag, zipped closed, a sticker on his chest. Unidentified white male – 4.2 inches in height.

Both of them under a microscope, handled and turned by dispassionate lab techs with gloved hands under cold, sterile lighting.

He tried to blink the images away, but they wouldn’t leave.

                “So… you uh, gonna bag us up now, or wait for backup?” Ethan said, his smile twisted razor-thin. Ryan’s thoughts stuttered.

                “I… I, uh—”

A creak on the floorboards behind them.

Ryan watched as Josh and Ethan both stiffened, their postures changing from relaxed but guarded to full on terror.

He whirled around. Someone was in the door. A girl. Lily. Sirens screamed in his mind. He was supposed to have two hours! It had only been a few minutes. This wasn’t possible.

                “W-who are you?” The little girl said, her blue eyes wide and afraid. Ryan stood up, his hands out, heart beating wildly.

                “Don’t panic. My name is Ryan. Detective Learman. I’m a police officer.” He braced for the girl to call her father – oh god, what was he supposed to say to his Sergeant? The paperwork alone was going to be overwhelming.

                “Run!” A tiny voice from behind him – cut off. He glanced behind him to see Josh grab Ethan, pulling themselves out of sight. Run? From what, this little girl?

But Lily wasn’t screaming for her father. She wasn’t even poised to run away from him. Instead, she just… looked at him with her eyes narrowed.

                “You’re not supposed to be here.” She said, her voice even. Ryan swallowed.

                “Uh, no, not officially – I’m here to investigate the disappearances of Joshua Harke and Ethan Lawrence. I - I’m following up on a lead. I didn’t touch anything.”

                “Mommy said that people aren’t supposed to come in here.” She folded her little arms, pushing out her bottom lip. Ryan gaped at her.

                “Uh – I mean –”

Lily glanced to the open lid of the toybox, and her face slowly morphed from annoyed to angry.

                “Those are mine.” She said, her voice low. Ryan shook his head.

                “Well, actually, the law might disagree with you on that.” He said, his mouth moving like he didn’t control it anymore. “They’re not toys. They’re people.”

Lily bit her lip, but she turned away, retrieving a box from her dresser. It looked old, nearly antique. She opened it reverently, pulling out a copper teacup from the red felt interior.

Something heady like rose and wet earth, spilled out of the box, filling the room.

                “Were you going to take them?” Lily asked, closing the box with her little fingers. Ryan took a breath.

Was he? Was that what he was doing? Rescuing them? Or taking them?

                “Yeah. Yeah, I was.” He said, injecting confidence into his voice.

                “That’s stealing.” Lily said, almost as if she were repeating words that weren’t hers. “And stealing is against the rules.”

There was something about her posture. Something about the way she was clutching that little cup in her hand. It reminded him of a cat, lowered before it pounced. A snake, poised to strike.

His heart raced, but he wasn’t sure why. He was a cop! He didn’t need to be scared of a little girl.

                “You’re a smart kid, Lily. Lily, right?” He said, placing his hand up. He didn’t like the way she held that little copper thing, like it was a loaded weapon. But she was standing between him and the door.

Lily only shrugged.

                “What is that?” Ryan asked, keeping his eyes on it. It must have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn that it was warping the light around it, tilting the world into it like a gravitational center.

                “It’s a teacup.” Lily said, holding it out to him. He eyed it warily. Was it poisoned? Electrified?

Likely neither. The girl was handling it with her bare hands – no adverse affects. He took a step back, eyes glued to the little cup.

A muffled voice cried out from behind him. One of the two had tried to speak up. He glanced backwards.

Lily surged forwards, taking advantage of his distraction, and placed the cold metal object in his hand. His fingers curled around it automatically, separated from his brain. It was smooth, heavier than it should have been.

Pain seared through his fingers. He opened his hand and dropped the cup to the floor like it had burned him – but the pain didn’t subside in the slightest. Instead, it only grew, reaching a screaming crescendo as his muscles went weak. White-hot agony ripped through his veins like a lightning bolt, pinpricks like stars bursting in front of his eyes.

His ears rang, nearly drowning out his involuntary screams as they were ripped from his throat. He sank to his knees, his palms hitting the floor, the world distorting and blurring at the corners of his vision.

He reached down to his belt for his radio. If he could just get a message out – God, he needed an ambulance, he was having a heart attack or something—

                “Jesus!” He cried as his jaws felt like they were ripped apart. He curled his hands into fists, tensing his body into itself until even his consciousness was supplanted by pain.

Chapter Text

Ryan woke up, his head still pounding. He was laying on something soft, but there was something off about it. It was too thick, like it was made out of burlap. The room was dimly lit and smelled like old antique wood. What, was he in a barn somewhere?

He groaned, trying to push himself up, but his hand immediately flew to his throat. His voice was… wrong. It was too thin and flat. It felt like it barely pierced the air in front of him. His limbs felt so light like gravity had changed while he was unconscious. He couldn’t get his arms to work right.

He must have been drugged. His brain felt sluggish, and his eyes wouldn’t focus right.

              “You okay?” He heard a voice next to him. Too familiar. Too loud. He groaned again, rubbing at his eyes.

Red hair. Green eyes… Same size.

His heart pounded, anxiety twisting in his gut. Something was wrong with this picture. The doll-sized man should not have been standing next to him, his hand between his shoulder blades.

              “What the hell—?” He said, gripping his head as it throbbed. He felt a hand behind his back, supporting him.

              “Yeah, it sucks for the first few minutes.” Ethan said. Josh huffed out a laugh.

              “You’d know, huh?” It felt like an inside joke between the two of them. But Ryan was still caught on the fact that they were there.

Something tugged at the corner of his mind. The feeling of oppressive warmth – being surrounded by something soft.

              “Where are we?” Ryan asked. It was time to rely on his training. Find out where he was. Learn the routine. Plot an escape. Josh and Ethan looked at each other.

              “Inside the toybox.” Josh said, folding his arms. Ryan couldn’t look away from him. Just a few minutes ago he’d gripped his fingers around the man that now stood even taller than he did. The gravity of his action curled into his gut, only building into the anxiety that was slowly rising.

              “O…kay.” He said, looking around. There was no way. He must still be asleep, dreaming about the impossible men he’d just found. Maybe there’d been some designer drug on the cup – something that induced vivid hallucinations.

His eyes landed on a stuffed elephant in the corner of the dark room. Something he’d grabbed with a single hand now towered in the corner. He was barely as long as one of the plush limbs.

His thoughts faltered. Maybe… maybe this was some kind of elaborate set.

              “He doesn’t believe it.” Josh said, sighing. Ethan shook his head.

              “Hey, give him a break. He didn’t have Ella, like we did.” Ethan said, swallowing heavily.

              “Ella?” Ryan said, furrowing his brow. “The wife?” Ethan nodded.

              “Yeah.” Josh sighed. “She gave us both our… uh, introduction.” He said bitterly. He didn’t elaborate.

              “What happened to me?” Ryan asked bluntly, looking around the room again, noticing the details that were out of place. A building block with a scrap of fabric on it. A pretzel the size of a sheet pan sitting on top of it. A broken marble in the corner the size of a basketball.

              “You were shrunk.” Josh said. He wasn’t apologetic and didn’t soften his words. “Welcome to the club.”

Ryan scoffed.

              “No. That’s not possible.”

              “You literally just picked me up in your giant, disgusting hands.” Josh said, folding his arms. “But when it happens to you, oh, now it’s not possible?”

              “I… held you.” Ryan repeated, his eyes flicking between Josh and his own hands. It was dizzying, like the body he was in now didn’t belong to him. The man in front of him couldn’t be the same one he contained in his fingers.

              “Yeah. And now we could both fit in her palm.” Ethan said, his voice still quiet, even.

              “H-how did this happen? A chemical? Some device? Did she smear something on that little cup?” Ryan forced the gears in his head to keep turning. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. If he could just figure out how it happened, maybe he could call this in. Get an antidote. Maybe the boys in the lab could figure out what the hell had actually even happened—

              “It was the teacup. When you touch it.” Josh said. Ryan shook his head.

              “No. Teacups don’t… change… people.”

Josh scoffed dismissively. He’d learned long ago that there wasn’t a point in trying to pretend this wasn’t really happening. No point in resisting or begging or crying. Ella had made sure to teach him that much before she dumped him into Lily’s hand with a smile.

              “Listen, I’ve seen it happen. Three times, now. Four, if you want to go there. If we knew how this process worked…” He shrugged. “No way for us to reverse it either. Not that we’ve seen.” Ryan perked up.

              “For ‘us’ to reverse – does that mean it is possible? You’ve seen it?” Josh bit his lip and looked at Ethan. Ethan looked down, his shoulders folding further into himself.

              “It’s possible. But we don’t know how. Or why.”

              “Who did this?” Ryan said, moving through his list. Get a suspect. A motive. A means.

              “Lily.” Josh said. He said the name like an ancient incantation, as if he was inviting evil into the room just by saying it aloud.

              “L-Lily. That little girl?” Ryan said, his voice terse with disbelief. “So you’re saying a little girl did this to me. With a magic teacup.”

Ethan huffed out a laugh through his nose. It was missing humor.

              “Yeah. I wouldn’t believe it either, if I hadn’t been living it.”

              “None of this makes any sense. None of this is adding up. That’s not science!” Ryan said, as if he was trying to convince himself.

              “Neither is what’s outside the box.” Josh said. His voice was low and steady now. There was something dark behind his eyes. “She’s going to come back. You’ll see, soon.”

              “See… see what?” Ryan said, the anxiety in his gut curling into dread. “What happens now?”

              “What do you think?” Josh said, motioning around him. “We’re her toys. She’s going to pick you up. Play with you. Maybe hurt you. She’ll put you back in here when she’s done with you.” Ryan shivered at the word ‘toys’. No way. Some little girl was going to just… pick him up and play with him? No. There was no way he was going to be a toy, no matter how small he was.

              “We try to survive. That’s it.” Ethan said, his voice small. Josh reached over, placing a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. Ryan watched, intrigued, as Ethan’s eyes closed, as if his entire mind simply… slipped out of him. He shivered.

              “Why haven’t you tried to stop her yet?” He asked, looking around the room. Josh’s fingers closed on Ethan’s shoulders. Ethan himself winced. “But… you can fight her! Refuse to be played with. We can’t just… give in!” Ryan said. It felt so strange to see how defeated they were, already.

              “We… we tried.” Ethan said, his voice strained and thin. “I mean, I tried. It – uh – didn’t work. Obviously.”

              “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ryan said, crossing his arms. Ethan closed his eyes and looked down.

              “Do you honestly think you can fight it?” Josh said, taking his hand off Ethan’s shoulder. “I fought you. It didn’t help.”

Shame grew in Ryan’s gut, followed by a deep sense of dread. Josh had fought his grip – hard. He’d flailed, squirmed, screamed, swore, and Ryan hadn’t felt much more than a tingle in his fingers. His mouth twisted guiltily.

              “W-well… Lily’s just a little girl. She’s not as strong as I am.” Ryan said, his voice a little more strangled than he would have liked.

Ethan sighed.

              “It doesn’t matter. Not when you’re this small. You’ll see.”

Something trembled beneath them, and the walls rattled ominously. Ryan watched as both Josh and Ethan stiffened, their limbs going still, eyes going blank.

Josh looked like he was saying a prayer, eyes closed, lips trembling as he carefully took deep breaths. His eyes turned to the ceiling above, like a man waiting for a noose. Ethan looked like he was trying to fold himself into a corner, to disappear inside himself.

              “What’s that?” He asked, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. Neither of the other men answered him. Another tremor, this time stronger. Another. “What is that?” He shouted.

Another.

He heard a crack, like someone tearing apart the heavens, and the sky itself slid away, bathing the three of them in light. Ryan stared up.

No. That was impossible.

She stood above him like a skyscraper, eyes hanging like twin moons in a flesh-toned sky, a smile the size of a school bus spread across her child-like face.

              “You’re awake, Ryan!” She said happily, and Ryan felt his own knees go weak.

T-this can’t be happening… Not to me….

He wasn’t this small. She wasn’t that big.

Maybe she’d scream. Maybe she’d call for help.

She didn’t.

She just knelt over him, her arm eclipsing the light above him.

Her hand reached down and he felt his muscles freeze. It was huge, her looming fingers nearly as tall as he was, all moving towards him at an incomprehensible speed. He glanced to the side for help, maybe backup from Josh and Ethan—

They were both frozen, eyes vacant, limbs limp. He saw a flicker of movement from Ethan – something he’d done when Ryan had reached for him – a lifting of his arms, a tensing of his muscles.

He was making himself easy to pick up. It was horrifying to see at his own scale.

Hell no.

              “Back off!” He shouted, putting his hands up. He reached down for his gun – but it was gone. His radio, his notebook, his voice recorder… all of them taken.

Her fingers curled around him like his resistance didn’t matter, his outstretched arm crumpled into his chest.

Heat immediately poured over him, his skin bursting into sweat, his heart fluttering wildly. Her hands were soft, but sticky – something like crayon wax and jelly. The smell was sickeningly sweet.

They tightened around him like vices, too tight – nearly squeezing the breath from his chest.

His feet left the ground. Air rushed past his head as she lifted him like he weighed nothing at all. He was hit with vertigo. He wanted to throw his arms out, steady himself – but he couldn’t move. Every single one of his limbs was pinned by this little girl’s casual strength.

He’d held Josh like this. He only now understood how much each of his tiny movements had cost.

He couldn’t get a full breath against the skin that wrapped around him. He gasped in shallow breaths, his body finally listening to him as he began to kick and struggle.

His arms strained against her grip and his legs kicked against the finger wrapped around him.

Lily cooed above him, her voice echoing from her chest, through her fingers and resonating through him. Ryan’s breath caught.

              “You’re so squirmy!” She giggled, poking at his face with her other finger. He reared away, his eyes wide in panic.

Squirmy?

              “Let go of me! You can’t pick me up like this! I’m a police officer, I have rights!” He shouted, trying his hardest to inject his voice with authority. His voice sounded so tiny, even to him.

Lily didn’t even respond, she just opened her hand, letting him collapse on his back into her palm. He rolled over to his side and caught a glimpse of the floor through her fingers, his eyes wide and panicked.

A hundred feet below.

              “Shit – fuck!” He shouted before he could stop himself. Lily frowned above him, and he felt something catch in his chest.

He wasn’t the kind of guy to be afraid of upsetting someone else. He was a detective. But seeing a frown stretched above him like a billboard from the person that held him in the palm of her hand?

It struck something deep and primal in his gut.

              “Those are naughty words.” Lily said, pressing her pointer finger into his chest, pushing him into her hand. He gasped – it was like a ton of bricks sitting directly on his sternum.

              “No – stop—!” He shouted. His ribs felt like they were bowing underneath him. He planted his tiny hands on her finger, trying to push it off with all the strength he could summon.

His hands weren’t even bigger than her thumbnail. The pressure increased, and he felt his eyes sting with pained tears. His chest creaked, and he let out a cry—

              “Don’t say those words anymore.” Lily said, and he heard the words vibrate through him from the flesh behind him, punctuated with the heartbeat that pulsed through her palm.

Ryan nodded, desperately.

              “I… won’t…” He choked, the tears finally leaking from his eyes, smearing down his cheeks—

The pressure released, and he gasped in a breath, nearly gagging on the fresh air. His chest ached with pain. She’d probably bruised him, with nothing more than a finger and a little press she probably didn’t even register.

Assault on an officer. That was a felony. He wanted to laugh, but only managed a choked gasp.

His limbs trembled. How was he so weak?

This wasn’t a show of force. She wasn’t a perp, or a kidnapper. She was something else altogether. A lion playing with a mouse.

Her fingers closed around him again, this time pinning all his limbs together. Her hand fell and he felt his stomach drop, like he was on some kind of nightmarish carnival ride. With Ryan clutched tight in her fist, she stepped over to the doll’s table as he swung like a pendulum from her sticky fist.

The world was blurring around him, he couldn’t get his limbs to work as he dangled.

Then the fingers were gone, and he was flying through the air, falling—

No, there was the ground. He crumbled, rolling to a stop, the wind knocked out of him. For a moment, he lay there, his body screaming. But her shadow passed over him.

He scrambled to get his limbs under him, bruised and aching, looking at up at the giant child that had just handled him like nothing more than an action figure.

She had a smile on her face. Like she was excited.

Okay. New strategy. I’ll stay calm – maybe if I play along, she’ll let go of me. I can talk to her, maybe she’ll let me go.

              “L-Lily, right?” Ryan called up, wincing as his bruised shin gave way under him. He stumbled. “Hey, let’s just talk for a second. What do you want?”

Lily didn’t say anything. Her expression didn’t even change. Her hands descended from above, one hand pinching around his stomach, the other around his arm.

              “You’re a little stronger than my other ones.” She said, running her fingers up and down his torso. Ryan gagged – the violation was nauseating. He tried to pull his arm free from her vice-like grip, but even though his muscles bulged, he couldn’t wrench himself free. She giggled. “But you’re not as tall as Joshie!”

Her finger brushed through his black hair and he immediately flung his head around, desperate to escape being touched like a goddamn dog. But Lily’s fingers pinched around his head and he went still, suddenly aware that all it would take was a pinch and she would crush his skull like a grape.

              “Hold still.” She said with a glare. She tilted her head and removed her fingers, stroking his hair again. “Mm… Ethan’s hair is softer than yours. But this can still be fun, I think.”

It doesn’t matter how strong you are. Not when you’re this small. You’ll see.

Ethan’s words. This is what he meant. There was no fighting this grip, it didn’t matter how strong he was. He went to the gym every day, and he took care of his body, because it was his goddamn job!

He’d once tackled a suspect high on PCP with his bare hands. He could run the mile in full uniform in 7 minutes. Now, a third-grader could break his ribs with a single touch. His muscles remembered what to do, but his limbs didn’t have the strength to follow through.

A huge, booming sound filled the room. Ryan flinched, bringing his free arm up to his ear. Lily grinned down at him.

              “That’s mommy!” She said, her voice excited. He let go of him, and he gasped in a quick breath right before her hands were back, scooping him off the table. He sprawled into the cradle of her palms, bouncing with every step she took. He tried to get his bearings, but each footfall sent another shudder through his body, and his limbs out from under him. Jesus, he felt like a toddler learning to walk.

The door opened and he froze, staring up at the newcomer from his sprawled-out position in Lily’s hands.

Ella.

His heart raced. She was huge, now. Towering even above Lily. If Lily had been a tree, Ella was a California Redwood. He had no idea that people could even be this big. He couldn’t keep himself from shivering.

              “Lily, honey, it’s time for dinner.” Ella said, her voice echoing strangely in the room. Ryan could feel it in his chest, like throbbing bass at a concert.

              “Mommy, look at what I did today!” Lily said, her voice bouncy. Ryan only had a moment to adjust before he was being lifted in front of Lily, held out to Ella like an offering.

He was still awkwardly sprawled in a humiliating position, on his back with his limbs spread. His stomach churned at her scrutiny.

It was terrifying to behold, like being studied by a planet.

Still... she was an adult. He’d spoken to her just a few days ago. She had to know him, she could help him, save him from this bratty kid!

              “Ella!” He shouted, gutted by how weak and thin his voice was compared to the booming resonance from Lily. “Please! She... she shrank me! You have to help me!”

Ella’s face pinched in a charmed smile. It was like she hadn’t even heard him.

              “Oh, Lily, how precious!” Her voice echoed around him, peppermint-scented breath blowing around him like a breeze.

              “Y-you remember me, right? Please, help me!” He kept going, aware of how pathetic he must look.

Just a few days ago, he’d stood over this woman, shook her hand. Spoken to her as a figure of authority while he searched her house.

Now he was tiny and weak, begging from a child’s hands, clutched like an action figure. His stomach flipped with the humiliation of it.

              “Oh, he’s still so chatty!” Ella said, crinkling her nose with amusement. “Don’t worry, darling, he’ll settle in soon, I’m sure.”

Ryan’s voice failed him. She wasn’t even looking at him like he was still human. His fingers closed into Lily’s palm beneath him with frustration.

              “I’m… I’m a person, dammit!” He shouted, his throat starting to hurt. When was the last time he needed to shout so much just to be heard?

              “Oh, of course you are, sweetie.” Ella said, tapping her lip with a perfectly manicured nail. “And so much better, now.”

Ella’s fingers came from above before he could even prepare. They pinched at his back – no, not his back – his shirt. He could feel the pressure of her fingers through the fabric as she tightened her grip – and then she lifted him up. His stomach dropped as he rocketed up in the air, completely unsecured.

              “Holy – fuck – no!” He screamed, his voice breaking and cracking as he flailed his limbs uselessly.

He reached up to his hand to grab on something – but his arms started to slip from his sleeves. With an involuntary gasp of panic, he lowered his arms, folding them desperately to keep himself in the air. The ground was just a blurry concept far below. If he fell like this – he wouldn’t just be dead. He’d be a smear.

              “Isn’t he cute, mommy?” Lily’s voice said behind him – below him. He felt his eyes start to water from panic.

Ella’s face was in front of him. Too big to even comprehend. Her eyes weren’t human anymore – they were alien. She belonged to a completely different world. He wanted to cry out again, beg to be saved – but his voice was trapped deep in his chest.

              “Look, at those arms. Certainly stronger than the others.” Ella said, turning him in her grip. The room spun and Ryan gagged, immediately dizzy. She reached a single finger to his abs, running a delicate nail up and down his exposed stomach. “Impressive. He’s a great little find. A little officer should make a great addition to your games.”

Before Ryan could scream at her, rage against the fingers that dangled him like a scrap of cloth, he was being lowered. Not released. Lowered. Too fast to react, too slow to ignore. His feet struck Lily’s palm, but he had no time to steady himself.

Ella still held the back of his shirt. As soon as he was standing back in her hand, she pushed down, hard.

His knees collapsed before he could even think to hold himself up. They hit the soft surface of Lily’s palm with a muted thump. His body folded forward as she just kept pushing, his spine folding forward until he sat himself back on his feet.

Then, she released his shirt and placed her finger on the crown of his head, keeping him in place with a strength that burned beneath the surface of her skin.

She didn’t move or pet him like Lily had done, she just… held him there.

              “You’ve done great, Lily, I’m so proud of you.” Her smile curved up.

Then her finger moved, ruffling his hair so gently that it made his stomach turn, like she was petting a kitten. His head wobbled weakly on his neck.

              “I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with him. I know you’ll take great care of him.”

Then the hand was gone, and he was left to pick up the pieces in Lily’s hand.

              “I will, mommy!” Lily said, beaming with pride above him.

              “Now go put him away, love, it’s time for dinner. Don’t leave your things lying around.”

Ryan collapsed into Lily’s hands, his muscles simply… giving up.

Great care of him? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Making him small? Submissive? Forcing him to kneel in her hand like a trained animal?

He could still feel her finger on the crown of his head, could still hear her silent command. Stay. He couldn’t stand yet. He’d been forced down too far. Is that what she meant? That he was better when he didn’t fight?

Lily was walking again, he was bouncing in her palms. She said something, her voice rumbling like thunder overhead. He couldn’t parse it.

He was being lowered with no control over his position in space, and placed on the floor of the toybox. He watched, totally still, as the cover slid over him.

Leaving him in the dark.

Chapter Text

Ryan could hear two men’s voices through the buzzing in his skull. His body still ached from how Lily and Ella had handled him. All it took was imagining the ground a million miles below and his heart started racing like a scared mouse again. He hated feeling this anxious all the time. Why couldn’t he calm down?

              “You made it.” Josh said, his tone tired. Ryan groaned.

              “What… the hell… was that?” He said, his voice coming back to him, slowly. It didn’t sound so weak in here, not when it was surrounded by other voices his size.

              “That… was Lily.” Josh said, putting a hand out to help Ryan up. They stood, though Ryan’s knees were still weak. “Don’t worry, you’ll get better at it. It gets easier the more you do it.”

              “Better?” Ryan snarled, furious. “No. I refuse.”

He could still feel the pressure of her finger on his head. The ache in his neck from being bent downwards.

He’d knelt. No, that wasn’t true, he’d been forced to bow in front of her like a goddamn feudal peasant! She’d said he was better like this. That he’d make a great addition to Lily’s games. She’d dangled him by the back of his shirt like a fucking toy, and had the nerve to smile at him.

His gut still churned with disgust. And looking around, he hated seeing the echoes of it in the two men standing next to him. He could see it in the defeated slump of their shoulders that they’d already accepted this fate.

              “What the hell? How can you let her treat you like that every day?” Ryan shouted. Ethan winced, turning his face away. Josh was instantly furious.

              “Watch it, asshole. You think we let her do this? Did you have any luck stopping her?” He snapped. He placed his hands on Ethan’s shoulders. Ryan watched again as Ethan just - slipped away, his eyes going nearly blank. The image of it truly disgusted him.

It looked like an animal being trained. This wasn’t one man with a supportive hand, this was someone controlling someone else. Ethan was beaten down and Lily wasn’t even here!

They were defeated. They were domesticated. It only kindled the fire in his gut further, his blood pressure rising so far it made his head hurt.

              “Listen, I… can’t just give up! If she’s distracted, I don’t know, maybe we can get away! Sneak under the bed maybe, or under the door. Hell, we just need a little leverage—”

              “You don’t get it, yet. You will.” Josh said, evenly. Ryan felt nothing but white-hot anger to the man standing so calmly right in front of him, like his world hadn’t just been torn away in front of his eyes. How could he look at him with the infuriating calm look like there weren’t horrors beyond human comprehension just outside these walls?

              “No, you don’t get it! I’m not going to sit here, rotting in a toybox, getting treated like a plaything without doing something about it! I can’t be like you two!” The words spat out of him like bile. He could taste the rage on his tongue like acid, and he didn’t want to stop it.

Just looking at them made his skin crawl. Josh’s grim resignation as he loomed over Ethan, hands on his shoulders like some kind of nightmarish pet-owner. Ethan, closing his eyes, heeling like a dog, silent with a touch.

He didn’t even flinch, it was all just routine, like they were already used to all this.

God. Was this what the end looked like? Is that what they all wanted him to be? No. He’d rather end up ground into the carpet, crushed to paste.

              “Ryan, it’s not… It’s not something we can fight.” Josh’s voice was calm, but there was something hard behind his voice.

              “Fuck. That! I won’t give up. I’ll—”

              “You think this is bad?” Ethan’s said quietly. He’d been so quiet, Ryan had almost forgotten he could speak. There was something about his tone that made him pause. It was laced with regret.

              “You have no idea how far down it goes.” Ethan said, closing his eyes. Josh pursed his lips together, looking away in shame.

              “What, you mean she’s gonna hurt me next?” Ryan snapped, folding his arms. “I’d like to see her try.”

              “No. I mean… smaller.” Ethan’s green eyes were trained on Ryan, holding his gaze uncomfortably.

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Josh shifted, his hand reaching forward for Ethan – then lowering it again.

“I’m not… I’m not talking about like, how she can break your arm and stuff. I’m talking about days you don’t talk. Weeks without walking.”

Ethan looked at Ryan with empty green eyes.

              “Quarter inch. Three months.”

For a moment, nobody spoke. Josh only looked regretfully at Ethan, who kept his face angled to Ryan.

              “That’s not – what is that, like… bug-sized?” He scoffed, but already he could feel something nauseous curling inside him.

The way Ethan said it was haunted. Ryan could look into his eyes and see the inches they’d taken from him, not from his body, his soul. He wanted to shake Ethan by his shoulders.

Ethan smiled faintly.

              “Not even. I was… smaller.”

              “And you survived?” Ryan said, his throat tight.

              “Barely. I wasn’t a person anymore. I was…” His eyes dropped to the floor, his voice breaking. Josh stepped up behind him, a hand on Ethan’s back. Ryan watched with revulsion as Ethan’s eyes closed, his breathing slowed like a toy with its batteries taken out. Josh had barely even touched him.

Was that the cost of his survival? Is that what Ethan had been turned into? That wasn’t a man. That was a pet, trying to convince him to climb in the cage with him. He seen something in Ethan, that spark – but… it was buried beneath layers of dust and training and fear. He would never become something like that, no matter what happened to him.

Josh glared at Ryan as he snatched his hand away, as if it was all his fault.

              “He fit in my hand. And I’m four inches tall. You think this is the bottom? You think they won’t go lower if you don’t fit?”

              “I mean, four inches… at least you can move.” Ethan said, focusing his eyes on Ryan’s again. “At least they see you.”

Ryan ground his teeth, the rage in his mouth souring. He could see it now. Ethan’s deference. Josh’s defeat. The darkness in his gut curdled. This wasn’t coping, this was just pathetic.

You’re better like this.

If he stayed, that would be him. Another pet with glassy eyes. Another man who’d forgotten what it meant to stand.

No.

Let them shrink him to dust. Let them rip his inches away from him, one by one. Let them grind him underfoot. They’d never take his mind, they’d never take his soul, not like Josh and Ethan’s.

He was getting out of here if he had to burn this toybox to the fucking ground.

Ethan watched Ryan storm away, curing venomously under his breath. He started doing push-ups in the corner, his face red.

Ethan could only think about the look Ryan had given him after he’d spoken. Josh had touched him, helped ground him again, and Ryan had curled his lip in disgust. Like Ethan was nothing.

He’d been trying to help. Trying to reach out, one firebrand to another – don’t make my mistakes. It’s not worth it.

Because Ethan knew what Ryan was feeling, right now. He remembered the way that Lily’s touch had set his brain on fire, the way he’d kicked and screamed and fought like anything he did mattered. He’d refused to give up, too. He’d cursed at Ella, spitting venom and throwing the finger when she lifted him in front of her face, her amused smile on her lips.

He would never forget the three-month punishment that followed.

No, he wasn’t trying to scare Ryan. He was trying to help him, keep him from doing the same thing, and learning the hard way that this world didn’t listen when he fought.

Instead, Ryan had looked at him like he was looking at something repulsive. And… maybe Ethan was. He’d never really thought about it like that.

              “I looked like a bug.” Ethan mumbled, looking down at his palms, imagining how tiny he would have looked in them. A quarter-inch would barely cross his palm. And to someone like Ryan… “…didn’t I? Pathetic.”

Josh stiffened, snapping his head in his direction. He knew that tone, the self-hatred that had followed Ethan’s restoration.

              “What?” Josh snapped, immediately stepping over. “That asshole doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

              “Was I really that worthless?” Ethan said. He remembered what it felt like to look up at Ella – like nothing more than a speck of dust stuck to her skin. How it felt to need to be cradled to keep from freezing to death. He’d felt pathetic. But from the outside… Jesus, he must have looked like such a little freak of nature, curling up under someone’s thumb, sleeping in a little nest of scraps of thread and dust. He really was no better than a pet.

              “No.” Josh said, putting his arm around Ethan. It wasn’t like when he used to use a thumb to calm Ethan down. This was something they’d only started doing after Ethan was restored. “You weren’t pathetic. You did what you had to do to survive. And you survived me.”

Josh glared at Ryan.

              “He thinks he’s better than us, huh? Well, we’ll see how well he does once Lily really starts with him. Let him scream. Let him fight. See how far that gets him.” He smirked, but Ethan didn’t smile.

              “I… I never thought about it. If someone else had seen me.” Ethan said, balling his fists. Josh sighed, his heart heavy.

              “They would’ve seen someone doing the best they could with the hand they got.” Josh said. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some water.”

Josh stood, but Ethan didn’t look up. He just sat there, eyes glassy, fists clenched in his lap.

Josh stalked away. If this young rich-boy hotshot detective thought he could come in here, looking down on them without knowing what they’d been through…

He had another thing coming.

Ryan felt Josh coming before he saw him.

He was pretty good at reading rooms, and he felt Josh’s icy cold bitterness radiating off him like a smoky aura.

              “Hey.” Josh said, his hands in his pockets, his posture deceptively relaxed.

              “Hmph.” Ryan said, folding his arms. “What is it, forget part of the sales pitch? Here to convince me to join you guys in giving up?”

Josh’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening.

              “You think you’ve got it all figured out, huh? Spent a couple hours in this place and you’re the expert on being small?” He asked, his voice was deceptively calm, but his shoulders were tense. "I know guys like you. You went to college, huh? Nice schools? I bet you think you know everything about everything.” He curled his lip and stepped forward. “You don’t know shit.”

Ryan bristled and he clenched his fists.

              “I don’t have to know anything.” He challenged, stepping forward.

Josh might have a few inches on him, but he looked wiry. He clearly hadn’t eaten right or worked out in weeks. He looked like he might know how to fight, he looked scrappy. Probably grew up poor.

“But I don’t have to know shit to know I’d never curl up in someone’s hand and pretend it’s all happy and dandy. I don’t care how big she is. I’d rather die than turn into… that.” He spat, his eyes flicking in Ethan’s direction. Josh’s face darkened dangerously.

              “What?” Josh said quietly.

              “You heard me. Just because you guys are happy playing house in this freak show doesn’t mean I’m going to. I don’t submit. You guys—” He pointed a finger. “—just surrendered. You gave up! Stop trying to get me to give up too.” Ryan took another step forward. But Josh didn’t back down.

Ryan saw the change in his posture, and the twitch by his eye. Josh’s knuckles whitened, and his arm twitched. But then he looked over at Ethan, sitting slumped on their bed, still looking down at his palms.

Josh straightened his back, and something in the air shifted. He squared his shoulders and he started to loom.

              “Surrendered? You think we surrendered?” His voice was shaking, and his face was getting red. “We didn’t… ‘lay down’, Learman. We shattered, okay? Every time she gripped us in her hands. Every time she threw us and dropped us squeezed until something fucking cracked. And we have to thank her for it! How long do you think you can fight that?” He said, his voice thick with acid, and Ryan swallowed.

Josh shed his jacket, standing before Ryan in just a black t-shirt. Ryan glanced at his arms and stared.

Josh’s arms were a patchwork of horror. Fingerprint bruises bloomed like storm clouds, purple and sick yellow. Long pale scars climbed across his skin, some torn open by newer lacerations. Even now, a bandage peeked out under one sleeve, dried blood dark at the edge.

He pulled up the edge of his shirt with his thumb. Ryan’s eyes widened with disgust. Josh was thin. He clearly hadn’t eaten well in months, but he was still incredibly muscled. And his stomach and chest were a continuation of the brutality on his arms. Thick, purple bruises covered his chest. Ryan realized they were in the shape of massive fingerprints.

Scars crossed his body, his skin a horrifying watercolor painting of purple, red and yellow.

              “This look like playing house to you?”

Ryan blinked, something dark and sick swirling in his gut. He’d seen a lot in his short time on the police force. But he’s never seen someone that messed up still moving.

              “Oh, you think this is bad? Let me tell you about Ethan. Since you dismissed him so easily earlier.” Josh snarled, curling his fists. “I watched him disappear, right here.”

He held out his palm.

“Right there in my hands. I used him. I made him vanish. He let his mind fold into itself under my thumb because I couldn’t handle what was happening to me. And he went silent for me. Not for Lily. For me.”

His voice cracked and he looked away.

“He lost himself – and that was my fault.” Josh choked and closed his hand. For a moment, he just stared at it, like Ethan might still be inside.

              “I… that’s awful.” Ryan said, quietly.

              “Don’t you fucking dare judge the way we survived. I survived Lily. Ethan survived me. The fact that he even speaks today… It means he’s strong. Stronger than me.” Josh said, his voice low. “He’s not a pet. He’s a survivor.”

Ryan grit his teeth, but he couldn’t find the words to argue. He still didn’t want to believe all this. He still couldn’t accept that a man could be broken like that by a little girl’s hand. But Josh wasn’t just making noise.

There was something in his eyes, now. He’d felt it when he clutched Josh in his fist. He saw it in his posture now. And those bruises… Jesus Christ, that wasn’t just blowing smoke.

He backed down, breaking eye contact.

Josh sighed.

              “You want to fight, scream, try to escape? Fine. Go ahead. I won’t stop you.” Josh put his hands up. “But don’t spit on what it cost us to be what we are right now. He’s not a toy. He’s a fucking soldier.”

He pointed at Ryan, his jaw set.

“And if you ever look at him like that again, like he’s not worth the space he takes up, I’ll teach you what it really means to feel small.” He grit his jaw. “Don’t think I’ve never had to beat up some stuck-up rich kid who thought he was better than me. You don’t get to do that shit. Not here.”

Josh turned, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders. He didn’t look back.

Ryan watched him go, fists still clenched at his sides. He wasn’t the kind of man who believed in submission. He still didn’t. But something in Josh’s voice wouldn’t leave him alone. That fury wasn’t born from nothing.

So this was tougher than it looked. The idea of being a little girl’s toy sounded cute, but clearly it was going to be a fight.

But he’d still never let himself become them. He couldn’t bend his head and call it survival like they did. Just because they couldn’t handle it didn’t mean that he had to give up the same way.

He was going to get them out.

Or die trying.

Chapter Text

Ryan refused to cry. He wouldn’t. It didn’t matter that the pain seared through his brain in white-hot arcs, or that he could actually feel the blood starting to pool in his socks. It didn’t matter that his eyes were burning and stinging, his throat clogged.

He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. But Jesus Christ, the tape hurt.

Ethan had tried to warn him. Lily had them both out, but Ryan refused to cooperate. When Lily threated to bring out the tape, Ryan couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes.

                “Do it, then, I’m not scared of damn craft supplies!”

Ethan had grabbed his arm and shaken his head, his eyes wide.

“Ryan. Chill. Just sit still. It’s not that—" Ryan threw him off, pushing the smaller man away from him.

                “Back off! Just because you’re a coward doesn’t mean I have to be!”  Ryan snarled.

That got Ethan to shut up, but Lily only shook her head and stepped over to her craft drawer. Ethan tried one more time, this time his voice was desperate. He put his hand on Ryan’s arm, gripping tight.

                “Dude, seriously. Trust me, you don’t want the tape, okay? It’s—”

                “Jesus, it’s tape!” Ryan said, his face getting red. “And if she thinks I’m going to go along with this princess bullshit she’d got another fucking thing coming.” Lily came back over, a tape dispenser with a roll of clear tape clutched in her hand. Ethan flinched.

                “It’s not for you, Ethan.” Lily said, wagging her finger at him. “But you remember what it feels like, huh?”

Ethan didn’t respond, his face pale and haunted, and Ryan folded his arms with a scowl.

                “That’s why you’re a good boy, now.” Lily said, and pulled out a long strip, the tape ripping loudly. Ryan winced. That sound was a lot more terrifying when the strip of tape was twice his height. His anger started to waver as he watched the strip of tape dangle from her hand.

He poised to run, escape off the play table she had them on, but Lily’s fingers were faster. He only made it a few inches before she caught him up, scooping him off the table with no chance to fight.

                “Fuck you, let me go!” He shouted, throwing his body back and forth, kicking his legs the best he could. Lily sighed, reaching over to pinch his Nike sneakers between her fingers. “No, stop!” He tried to flex his feet to keep her from removing them, but her fingers were stronger than he could even imagine. His shoes were gone in moments.

But then she was tugging at his pants, and he redoubled his thrashing.

                “No, no, fuck no!” He shouted, his voice rising higher, his eyes wide. He could see Ethan still on the table, standing still, looking away. “Ethan, get her to stop!”

But the little redhead didn’t look up, didn’t speak up. He just stood there like a useless fucking coward! There wasn’t anything he could do, but still, he should have spoken up, should have tried.

                “This is because you won’t sit still, Ryan!” Lily said, frustrated. “It’s just consequences!”

                “Ethan!” Ryan screamed like he could actually help him. Ethan was trapped on the table, just as small as he was. He just needed someone to shout at because otherwise…

Lily pulled his jeans off, leaving him in just his socks and underwear. He kept kicking his legs, prepared to keep her from coming back for more clothes, but before he could prepare, she lowered a strip of tape.

It immediately clung to his hair and skin, tugging painfully. His heart began to race, and his anger began to give way to fear. Jesus Christ, he shouldn’t have done this. It already hurt, and she’d barely even started!

She started around his ankles, preventing him from kicking his feet. Ryan kept screaming and thrashing, but at some point it stopped being about fear and started being about pain.

The plastic edges dug into his thin skin, making every contact point sting. The adhesive clung to his leg hair, tearing out and stinging every time he even shifted. His legs were completely immobilized as she wrapped strip after strip around him.

Once he’d been encased in layers of Scotch tape up to his waist, she pinched his torso between her fingers and lifted him up. He still flailed weakly, but his legs wouldn’t even bend anymore.

                “There you go. It doesn’t feel so nice, does it?” Lily said, shaking her head. Ryan tried to say something back, but all he managed was a groan of pain. He squirmed, and she giggled. “See, you can’t run away, now. Are you going to be good?”

The play didn’t even stop. She continued to move him around like a piece on a chessboard, trying over and over to set him on his feet. He kept falling, unable to keep his balance, and with every fall he felt his knees and palms bruising more. Sweat trickled down his legs, building up under the thick layers of plastic, making his entire lower body itch and tingle.

He wasn’t going to cry out. He wasn’t going to admit this hurt.

But Jesus Christ, it did.

It was hours until she Ella came to tell her to go to bed, and she finally finished playing with his taped-up body. But he’d expected her to take the tape off when she was done. Instead, she set him on his back in the toybox, leaving his legs still encased in the sticky plastic.

                “Now I want you to think about what you did, okay?” Lily said, standing up. Ryan started to panic.

                “W-wait!” He called, pushing himself to a seat, putting out his hand as if to stop her. “You… aren’t you going to cut me out?”

Lily shook her head, and didn’t answer, just pulled the lid of the box over them. Ryan let out an incredulous noise, but his heart wouldn’t stop racing. As soon as she walked away, he clawed at the tape, desperately trying to peel it off himself.

His eyes clouded with furious and impotent tears as he strained, unable to budge the adhesive.

                “Dammit!” He cursed, his throat tight. It hurt so bad, and all he wanted was to get this shit off him! Ryan set his back against the building-block Josh and Ethan used as a table and stretched his legs out.

                “Here, let me help.” Josh said, stepping over. The taller man knelt down by Ryan’s legs. He swung himself away, pushing Josh’s hands away.

                “Back off! What the fuck are you going to be able to do?” Ryan scoffed. Josh rolled his eyes and pulled out a pocketknife. Ryan’s eyes widened.

                “What the fuck? How did you get that?” Ryan asked, reaching out. Josh pulled it back possessively.

                “It’s mine. Ethan had it when he… got shrunk.” Josh said, looking down at it, smiling faintly.

                “Give it to me!” Ryan said, reaching for it. Josh’s smile vanished and moved the knife out of Ryan’s reach. “Come on, man, let me cut myself out!”

                “Woah, what the hell?” Josh said, his brow furrowing. “Did you miss the day in Kindergarten about grabbing shit?”

Ethan stepped over, putting his hand gently on Ryan’s shoulder.

                “Seriously, it hurts less if you just let him cut you out.” Ethan said. “It’s easier, I promise.”

Ryan slapped Ethan’s hand off his shoulder.

                “Back off, bitch!” He snapped, and Ethan stepped back, eyes wide. “Get your fucking hands off me! I don’t want help from a fucking coward!”

Josh’s face darkened.

                “Dude, what the fuck?” He said, glaring at Ryan. Ryan’s hands tightened into fists. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

                “This hurts, dammit!” Ryan shouted, thrashing around, making the tape just bite harder into his legs. “Just get it off me!”

                “I’m trying!” Josh said, his voice rising with exasperation. “If you don’t calm down, I’ll just leave it on if that’s really what you want.”

Ryan seethed, his face red, his heart pounding. He hated this smug, overbearing white trash asshole. He grit his teeth. Josh sighed and pushed himself up, taking his knife with him.

Damn that fucking bastard, hoarding everything like they weren’t all captives here together. He clenched his fists.

                “Get it off.” He said softly. Josh lowered back down and flicked out the blade, reaching down for Ryan’s legs.

Josh started by sliding the blade between his legs, relieving that awful pressure and letting the blood flow back into his feet. Ryan let out a sigh even as the adhesive started pulling at his hair and skin.

                “Sorry, this is gonna hurt.” Josh said quietly, carefully working the knife under the tape, cutting it away from his shin. Ryan let out a hiss as it just tugged at his skin.

                “Jesus, fuck!” He murmured through gritted teeth. Josh only pursed his lips and peeled another section away from near his ankle.

Next he slid the knife under his knee, gently separating it from the thin skin there. Ryan twitched as the cold blade grazed his skin, and Josh’s hand slipped, the knifepoint biting into the sensitive flesh behind his knee.

                “Ow, Jesus! Be careful, asshole!” Ryan snapped. Josh pursed his lips.

                “Yeah, I’m the asshole.” He said acidly. Ryan glared down.

                “When you’re the one cutting holes in my leg, I’m calling it how I fucking see it.”

Josh ignored him, peeling up another section from over his thigh. He carefully cut it away, setting the blood smeared tape in the pile beside him.

The tape in the pile was crusted with dried blood and hair that had been pulled out or cut away. Every inch of that fucking tape made Ryan’s skin crawl.

His skin was raw where the tape had been removed, red and hot to the touch. Even the cool air brushing over it made it ache.

Ryan wanted so much to kick Josh away and rip the rest off himself, but even this gentle removal with a knife was taking skin and hair with it. God, Ethan was probably laughing to himself, glad it was Ryan and not him that had to get taped up. He probably engineered this whole thing just to make Ryan suffer.

Josh accidentally brushed his blade over one of the deep lacerations from where the tape had been digging into his skin. Some of the scabbed blood flaked away, exposing the wound to air.

                “Owww, fuck you!” Ryan shouted, his vision clouding.

                “Right, yeah. Fuck me.” Josh said, his voice steady but dark. “Dude, hold still. If you keep moving, something could happen.”

Ryan couldn’t kicking out a little in agony. Josh was making this take forever on purpose, just to torture him.

                “Fuuuuuck!” He shouted, and Josh sat back, shooting Ryan an exasperated look.

                “Jesus Christ, shut up!” Josh snapped, his voice breathless and irritated. “You’re gonna wake Lily up and none of us want that.”

Ryan slammed his head back into the building block and let out a furious groan.

                “I don’t fucking care!” He shouted, but he did lower his voice. “Let her! I’d like to see her kill me! It’s better than this shitshow!”

Josh looked away, his eyes burning.

                “I should just let you finish this yourself if you’re going to bitch so much about the way I do it.” He said, angling the knife to peel the tape from his far thigh. Ryan let out another grunt. “God, Ethan didn’t whine like this.”

                “Maybe he’s just used to being someone’s bitch.” He said, his jaw clenched so hard a vein stood out on his forehead. “And don’t act so fucking high and mighty, like you don’t know how much this hurts!”

Josh let out a quiet scoff.

                “She’s never taped me up.” He said bitterly. Ryan glared, his nose twitching in a sneer.

                “Fuck off, asshole. Don’t lie to me right now!” Ryan snapped furiously. Josh shrugged, pulling off another section from near his hip.

                “I’m not lying. I don’t need tape. Because I’m not fucking insane!”

                “That’s because she – fuck! – trained you like a fucking dog!” Ryan said, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth as Josh ripped away another section from his inner thigh. Josh pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. He pulled his knife up, pointing it at Ryan’s face.

                “I don’t want to hear another word out of your goddamn mouth, Five-O, or I’ll leave you here to get the rest of this shit off yourself.” Josh said, and it took everything in Ryan’s body to keep from antagonizing him back.

                “Fine.” Ryan said, sitting back, trying to let his body go limp. “Fuckin’ trailer trash.” He muttered under his breath. Josh shot him a furious side-eye, and his knuckles tightened on the knife, but didn’t say anything else while he sliced the tape from Ryan’s underwear.

With one last flick of the knife, Ryan was free.

                “Finally!” He shouted, springing up and away from the shredded, bloody pile of tape and scabs and hair. He sprinted over to where Lily had dumped his jeans and shoes, holding them up – but his legs were too raw and slick with blood for him to want to actually put them on.

Damnit, he needed to wash this off, but Ethan was sitting over by the water tub. And he’d need to ask Josh for a rag or something, and he didn’t want to talk to either of them. Ethan was just sitting there, messing with a little piece of string, waiting for Josh to touch him or whatever, while Josh cleaned up the tape pile.

So instead, he just sat in his pile of stuffed animal fluff and seethed, his vision flickering every time a cotton fiber dragged across his weeping legs. It was worth it, if he didn’t have to admit that he’d given up.

If he could look over at the way Josh wrapped his arms around Ethan while Ethan let his eyes drift vacantly and know that he was better than that. He didn’t have to listen to the things they whispered to each other, or watch Ethan brush his fingers through Josh’s hair even though they insisted they weren’t together like fucking hypocrites.

It was worth it because Ryan was never going to give up, no matter who was against him.

Chapter Text

Ryan fought like he always did the moment Lily’s fingers closed around him. It never helped anything, but he would never admit that to himself. There was always something to be gained from fighting, even if just to himself. Lily didn’t even acknowledge his struggles anymore, she just… counted it as normal.

                “Ry—an! I have a fun game for us today!” Lily said in a singsong voice, and Ryan only kept trying to struggle out of her hand.

                “No! I don’t want to play, put me down!” He shouted, his face already getting red. Lily reached up to pet his head with her other finger, and he nearly vibrated with tension. Jesus Christ, he hated when she did that! “Stop, leave me alone! Make me big again!”

                “This is going to be a fun one, Ry. It’s fun for you. It’s every boy’s dream!” She said, carrying him over to the play table. Her words did not calm him down. If anything, it just made him want to fight harder.

She set him down on the edge of the table. He sprinted right for the edge, just like he always did, but Lily stepped back, smiling. He glared. There was no way for him to get down, not by himself.

                “Come on, don’t run! This will be exciting, it’s the best day of your life!” She said giddily. Ryan folded his arms. The best day of his life would be if she decided to make him big again. Since that didn’t seem to be happening...

                “Not even close!” He shouted furiously. “I hate this, and I hate you!”

She didn’t even acknowledge that he spoke.

                “Here’s your outfit, will you put it on, or do I have to?” She asked, shoving a pile of black clothes into his chest. He refused to grab them, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He would never – ever – put the doll clothes on himself. Lily sighed, but shrugged. “Okay, Ry!”

Her fingers wrapped around him, and he threw his all into making this the most difficult task it could possibly be. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep her from removing his jacket. He kicked his feet so she couldn’t take off his shoes.

But no matter what he did, there was no way to really stop her. Her fingers were too strong to even thing of resisting. Still, he flailed and thrashed and screamed through the whole process, while she slipped his jacket off, pulled his shoes off, removed his jeans, until Lily’s fingers clamped down on him hard.

                “Ryan, you’re being too crazy right now.” She said warningly, pressing down on his chest, squeezing the breath out of him. He only glared back.

                “Fine! Squeeze me until I die, I dare you!” He shouted. Lily sighed, and only increased the pressure on his limbs, isolating each arm and forcing them into the doll’s tuxedo jacket. He kept trying to struggle, but he was starting to get tired as she forced him into the dress pants.

                “There you go, that’s not so bad, right?” Lily said, setting him down and turning away. Ryan immediately collapsed. It was exhausting to fight so hard, and she pinched his limbs so hard she left bruises every time. 

He pulled at the thick doll tuxedo, but it was sealed with Velcro, and he couldn't undo it by himself. The clothes just looked wrong on his body. They were too thick and not detailed enough. The thickness of the thread stitching them together was thicker than his veins. Every thread that made up the weave of the fabric was thicker than his hair. The fabric was almost as heavy as a wool coat. 

The seams were too thick, and everything itched and scraped at his newly delicate skin. The clothes were sized for a doll even taller than he was, so everything hung off him like he was a little kid wearing an adult outfit.

It was unbearably humiliating.

                “Fuck you.” He murmured, quiet enough that she couldn’t hear.

Then she was back, something huge and plastic in her hand. She scooped up Ryan in her other hand and held him across from what she had. His heart froze.

It was a Barbie doll, dressed in white.

                “Oh, hell no.” He murmured, immediately forcing his exhausted muscles to keep squirming in her hand. Lily hummed the wedding march above him.

                “Aren’t you happy, Ry-ry?” She giggled. “You get to be married!” Ryan only fought harder, shaking his head.

                “No! I’m not doing this!” He shouted, but Lily only smiled and set him back down. After stumbling, he ran back to the edge of the table. Lily ignored him this time while she carefully set her other plastic dolls in rows, all facing the front.

She plucked him out without warning and set him under the arch she’d made out of tissue paper and tin foil.

                “Stay there, Ryan! Astidanica can’t stand up by herself, so I have to hold her, okay?”

Like hell! Ryan immediately went to sprint, but Lily was faster. She caught the back of his itchy doll shirt and yanked him back.

                “Come on, Ryan! I don’t want to tape you up.” Lily said, pushing her lip out. Ryan shivered. Yeah, okay, he didn’t want that either. He forced himself to stay put, but he couldn’t banish the furious tension in every single muscle.

Lily gripped the Barbie, and he looked up, his face red. Jesus, how humiliating – the doll must have been three times as tall as he was. He barely reached her knee. She just loomed over him like a plastic Amazon.

He grit his teeth. No tape. He didn’t need the tape.

                “Okay, are you ready for the wedding?” Lily said excitedly, and Ryan only folded his arms silently. His entire body burned.

It wasn’t just that she wanted to play with him, though that was big part of it. He hated any time she forced him to face how small he was and the fighting was exhausting. And it wasn’t just that he was marrying a doll that was big enough to hold him in her big plastic arms.

It was the thoughts of Mateo that kept crossing his mind. The daydream he used to have of marrying his long-term boyfriend, if they’d ever have managed to get around to it.

Everyone in his life had wanted him to marry a woman. Even his parents had taken a few years to come around after he’d come out. And he’d rather die than deny that part of himself, even if it was just some stupid fake wedding to a giant, plastic doll.

                “I’m not doing this!” He shouted, and Lily only smiled down at him, tapping him on the crown of his head. He simmered angrily.

                “Okay, so I’ll be the marrier, and all you have to do is repeat after me.” Lily said. Ryan didn’t answer, just glared down at his socked feet. Ethan and Josh had told his to stop bothering with his shoes, Lily would just take them off, but he refused to give them up. They made him feel like a person, still. Until she ripped them off his feet while holding him in her grubby fist.

                “I, Ry-ry, take the lovely Astidanica to be my beautiful bride.” Lily said, poking him in the back, waiting for his response. Ryan kept his mouth glued shut. It didn’t matter what she did. He’d never participate.

Lily sighed, but just continued like he’d said the line anyway. She wiggled the massive Barbie around, and Ryan jumped back, eyes wide.

Jesus, she could knock him around with that thing.

                “And I, Astidanica, take the adorable Ryan to be my tiny little husband.” Lily said in a high-pitched voice. Ryan burned. If looks could kill, hellfire would be raining down and consuming the house right now.

                “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” He whispered, his face red, his teeth clenched. Lily was still talking, but he refused to listen. He even started reconsidering the tape.

No. No, he didn’t need the tape. He didn’t need it.

                “Do you promise to love her in sickness and in health, in riches and poor, in fights and in vacations?” Lily said. Ryan pressed his lips together.

She lowered down, looming over him like the sky, casting her shadow over his entire body.

                “Ryan.” She prompted, but he only shook his head. Another sigh. “Whatever.” She said, and continued speaking in Astidanica’s squeaky voice. He stopped listening. He thought of Mateo.

God, Mateo. Jesus Christ, he missed him. The feeling of his lips on Mateo’s cheeks, his hand in his. He missed him so much his stomach started to hurt.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Lily wrapped her hand around his waist, hoisting him up into the air.

                “You may now kiss the bride!” Lily squealed, and he threw his arms out.

                “Wait, no – don’t—” He said, but Lily was already mashing his face into that stupid Barbie’s.

His nose crashed into the plastic surface, and he felt something pop, blood immediately starting to drop out.

                “Jesus, stop it! Ow!” He shouted, squirming in her hand, but Lily just kept crushing him against her until his vision went spotty.

                “Aw, Ryan! You got Astidanica all bloody!” She sighed. “You really are just so naughty.” She said, and set the Barbie down. “You need a bath.”

She stood up, keeping him clutched in her hand, and walked out of the room. He kept fighting.

It didn’t help.

--

Ryan paced around the inside of the toybox, his hair still damp, his jeans soaked, his socks wet. His nose wasn’t bleeding anymore but that didn’t mean he was okay.

                “Damnit! Fuck this. I can’t… I won’t do this anymore!” He shouted. Josh only looked up from where he was sitting, whittling some stupid little figure out of a popsicle stick.

                “Do what?” He asked, his voice flat. Ryan glared at him.

                “Any of this! This is all bullshit, you know that, right? This is all fucking bullshit!” He raged, his voice rising. Josh scoffed and looked back down at his carving.

                “Yeah. We know.” He said, and Ryan flipped him off. How could the guy just sit there while the bullshit happened all around him? How could he just… accept this?

                “Josh.” Ethan whispered, and stood up from where he’d been sitting on their bed. “Ryan… we know, it’s just...” Ryan turned away from him. He didn’t need Josh’s pet to try and cheer him up.

                “No. You guys don’t even fight her. I’ve seen it. You gave up.” He stepped away. “Well, that’s fine for you guys, but I can’t… I can’t let her get to me.”

                “And how’s all your fighting working out for you?” Josh said, tapping his socked foot on the floor.

                “It’s better than just… going fucking limp!” Ryan shouted, red-faced. “At least I’m trying! If someone comes in to save us, at least I’d try!”

Josh immediately stood, his face contorted into something massive and furious. Ryan froze, but Josh only took and long breath and sat back down, gripping his knife so hard his knuckles went white.

                “Fuck you, man. Seriously. Fuck you.” He muttered. Ethan glanced over to him, then back at Ryan. Jesus, why did these two always have to fight?

                “Ryan, we don’t… want to play either, but we have to. And like… we just want it to be over faster. It’s easier that way.” Ethan said, his hands up placatingly. Ryan rolled his eyes and snorted.

                “Sure, if that’s what you tell yourselves to sleep at night.” He said, and Ethan blinked, his eyes suddenly watery. Ryan felt a little guilty, but he wasn’t about to roll it back.

He thought of Mateo again and the knot in his chest only grew tighter. Jesus Christ, why him? Why did this have to happen?

It was Josh and Ethan’s fault, for disappearing in the first place. It was Lily’s fault, for being such a little tyrant with unchecked power. It was Ella’s fault, for letting her act like a little hellion in the first place.

It was his own damn fault, for breaking the rules and trying to do the right thing. If he’d just listened to Sarge, if he’d listened to Mateo…

Fuck. No. He wasn’t going there. He couldn't even start, or he'd really start to fall apart. But he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head.

So instead he paced, long after the other two went to bed, long after his body begged him for sleep.

He paced until his feet hurt, because he couldn’t handle standing still anymore.

Chapter Text

Ryan shivered, his teeth chatter like he’d never experienced before. They lived in Michigan. He wasn’t a stranger to cold winters. But he usually had a coat, at least… and he wasn’t placed in the freezer by a giant girl who thought she owned him.

Josh and Ethan were huddling together, Ethan sitting in front of Josh, who wrapped around him from the back. They sat up against a box of frozen French fries, shivering like they’d never be warm again.

At this point, he wondered if they ever would be.

Lily had put them in, grinning wide, saying she wanted to know if they’d turn into popsicles. Josh and Ethan had gone first, eyes wide and trembling, but not fighting her hand.

Ryan kicked and screamed and shouted, fighting with everything he had. But of course, there was nothing he could do, not to the giant who outsized him twenty times.

That had been half an hour ago, and there was still no sign of her returning to let them out. Instead, they could only huddle in the freezing darkness.

                “R-Ryan, come on.” Ethan said through shaking lips. “You’re g-gonna freeze over there.”

Ryan gripped his hands into his blue cotton jacket, pulling it tighter around him. He didn’t want to go over and snuggle with those two. They still creeped him out, how touchy they were all the time.

But he had to admit, the idea of more people sharing body heat was looking more and more necessary.

                “We’re too s-small to hold heat.” Josh murmured, burying his face in Ethan’s neck. “You gotta g-get over here.” He raised his arm for a moment, inviting him closer.

Ryan grimaced. He wanted to keep himself huddled where he was curled by a box of frozen waffles. He didn’t want to make Josh think that Ryan was like Ethan – someone who would just do whatever he said like some kind of human pet.

But goddamn. It was really cold. There was something to Josh’s words about not being able to hold heat. His skin was thinner now – and he felt way colder than he should have.

He groaned, his teeth shattered.

                “Ughhh, fine!” He shouted, storming over. He settled next to Josh, pressing his side to Josh’s arm.

Josh’s arm wrapped around him, pulling Ryan closer. Ryan pulled his knees up, careful to keep his hands off Ethan. He didn’t want to make him do anything weird like he did with Josh.

It felt strange to be so close to them, but he couldn’t deny that the warmth was nice. He let out a long, shaky breath.

                “J-Jesus, does she do this a l-lot?” Ryan asked furiously, his muscles shivering so violently it gave him a headache. Josh huffed out a half laugh.

                “N-not like this.” He said, his voice low. He groaned, then looked around at the boxes and bags of frozen food around them. “It s-sucks.”

Ethan pushed his back closer into Josh, tugging on his arm.

                “What?” He asked quietly. Josh motioned around them with the hand around Ryan.

                “All this f-food, and we can’t eat it.” He said, scoffing. “All we eat is p-pretzels and c-cookies. I miss French f-fries.” He said, patting the box behind him.

Ethan let out a long sigh of appreciation, looking up at Josh.

                “I miss fries from Rally’s.” He said, closing his eyes. “Hot and c-crispy. With all the seasoning b-bits on them. You know, psoriasis fries.”

Josh let out a choked laugh, clutching Ethan closer and coughing on the freezing cold air. Even Ryan let out a huff.

                “Jesus, Ethan, you c-can’t say that!” Josh laughed, taking a shuddering breath. “God, it hurts to laugh.”

                “I want soup.” Josh said, leaning back. “I miss Lacey’s chicken n-noodle soup. She always m-made it in the winter.”

Ryan felt his mouth water despite himself. The idea of hot soup crowded his mind more that the icy cold men pressed to his side. He pushed himself closer, stretching one leg alongside Ethan and groaning at the warmth that flowed between them. It felt good.

                “S-soup and homemade bread.” Josh continued, letting out a quiet sigh. “S-she used to make bread sometimes.”

                “M-my mom made chili every year for C-Christmas.” Ethan said, teeth chattering. “Always burned my mouth, she put like… so much hot sauce in it. K-kill for a bowl right now.”

Ryan pressed his lips together. He thought about what he missed. Steak and potatoes. Mateo’s chiles rellenos. His mother’s chicken stir fry.

                “I want c-chips and salsa.” Ryan murmured, closing his eyes against the unrelenting cold.

Josh nodded, leaning his head back.

                “H-haven’t had a vegetable in months. Kid me would be so stoked.” He said wryly, and Ryan snorted.

                “Right. Goldfish and mini-muffins for us.” Ryan said, leaning his head onto Josh’s shoulder. His cheek felt the warmth radiating off him, and he shuddered in relief. “Maybe a fruit snack to fight off scurvy.”

Ethan snickered, curling his legs closer.

                “G-gotta have a little vitamin C, right?” He said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Fuck, it’s cold.” He murmured.

Ryan nodded, pressing even closer.

                “Jesus Ethan, you’re warm.” He said, pressing his hand to Ethan’s shoulder. Josh swallowed hard and Ethan snorted.

                “Heard that before.” He said dryly, and Ryan wondered what he’d said wrong.

It didn’t matter, the cold was starting to take over his thoughts. He’d never been this cold, not even on long winter stakeouts in his car.

                “S-she’s not going to let us die in here, is she?” Ryan said, his throat tight. Every passing minute in the freezer felt more and more unbearable. Josh and Ethan didn’t answer for a moment.

                “N-no.” Josh said, but he didn’t sound as sure as Ryan wanted him to. “Hey, I’m… I’m still alive, right? S-she’s done worse.”

Ryan grimaced. He didn’t know what to believe. So far, he didn’t have trouble believing it, but it still stuck deep in his stomach that a little girl could treat someone so badly. They were human beings, weren’t they?

How could she ignore him screaming? How could she smile when his face went red with anger?

God, it wasn’t fair.

He laid his head on Josh’s shoulder, and Josh placed his hand on his head, cupping it around his ear. Ryan flinched, but the warmth was immediate. He couldn’t stop himself from curling closer.

                “You know what they s-say about Michigan winters.” Ryan said, curling his hands together.

                “W-what, wait ten minutes and it’ll change?” Josh said, and Ethan laughed dryly.

                “T-that’s Michigan weather, dumbass.” He said, turning his cheek to press into Josh’s chest.

                “Is that what it is?” Ryan chattered, pulling his socked feet up, tucking them under Ethan. “Whatever… We j-just have to wait ten more minutes.”

Josh tucked his head down, settling his face on Ryan’s shoulder.

                “I hope that’s true.”

Luckily, the adage about Michigan weather held true. Just a few minutes later, Ella opened the freezer, reaching in for a bag of frozen fruit. She glanced down at the three miniature men tucked against the box of frozen French fries, and smiled indulgently.

                “Oh, dear.” She murmured, reaching in to scoop her fingers around the three of them. “You poor little things.”

She chuckled, cupping her hands around them, carefully cradling them in her palms. Ryan wanted to move away from Josh and Ethan, but they were all just a tangle of limbs and clothes pressed in by Ella’s fingers.

She carried them through the house, back up the stairs to were Lily was playing. Ryan couldn’t even find it in himself to fight. He was so cold… and the warmth radiating up from Ella’s palm burned his skin, making his bones ache. Every breath ached in his lungs.

He heard a door creak open, and he tried to force his shuddering body to look out, but he couldn’t move the way he wanted.

                “Lily, darling.” Ella said, he voice amused. “I’ve got some things of yours.”

They heard something shuffle. Ella lowered her hands, and they dropped helplessly into Lily’s waiting hands, unable to stop themselves.

                “Aww, mommy!” Lily said, disappointed. “They weren’t supposed to come out, yet!” Ella chuckled softly, shaking her head.

                “Sweetie, you can’t leave them in there that long. It’s dangerous for them.” Ella said, ruffling her hand on Lily’s shoulder.

                “But mom, I—”

                “No buts, sweetheart. You need to take care of them. They need you.” Ella said, standing up. “They need to be kept warm, just like we do.”

Lily sighed.

                “Okay… if you say so.” She pouted, glancing down at the three tiny men shivering in her hands. “Are they okay?” Lily asked, looking back up at her mother. Ella smiled.

                “They’re going to be fine. Now put them away, it’s almost time for dance class.”

Lily turned to the toybox, tossing the three of them inside. The impact felt like knives on Ryan’s half-frozen skin. Lily looked at them for a moment, then sighed.

                “Are you guys really cold?” She asked, disbelievingly. Ethan put his head down, curling up where he’d been dropped. Josh looked up and nodded. Ryan growled.

                “Yeah, we’re freezing, okay? You put us in the goddamn freezer!” Lily giggled at Ryan’s outburst.

                “That’s true!” She said, brightly, then stepped away. Ryan put up his middle finger at her retreating figure, but Josh shot him a look. Lily returned a minute later with something in her hands.

She set it down inside the toybox – a sparkly purple mitten.

                “Here, you can use this to keep warm.” She said, then slid the box closed, plunging them into darkness. Ryan stormed over, kicking the childish mitten with his socked foot, his face red. His toe lit up with fiery pain from the lingering cold, and he let out a pained and angry groan.

                “Fuck this!” He cried, raking his hands through his hair. “She leaves us in the freezer until we almost die and that stupid woman doesn’t even tell her not to do it!” He raged. Josh and Ethan sighed.

                “She’s like that.” Josh said, his voice strained. “We told you… they don’t care about us. Not like that.”

                “That’s – it’s not fair!” Ryan shouted, face hot. “We’re still people!”

Ethan stepped over to the mitten, pulling the opening up.

                “It’s warm in here.” He said quietly before crawling inside. Ryan shook his head. Pathetic. She almost killed them and here they were, crawling inside her mitten like she'd done something actually nice for them. He paced the floor, furiously, watching Josh follow Ethan into the warm purple yarn.

It did look inviting, but there was no way he’d bring himself that low. Just because he’d been shrunk to four inches tall didn’t mean he had to act like a mouse.

Chapter Text

Ryan couldn’t settle his nerves. He’d been pulled out with Josh that day for a round of humiliating games.

It still disturbed him how limp and pliant Josh was. To hear his voice so clipped and cheerful with no expression on his face, just… totally blank. Sometimes he would plaster on an awful, blank smile.

Yes, Lily. Thank you, Lily. I’m sorry, Lily.

The words were sickening coming out of a grown man. And still she abused him. Pinched his tiny limbs between her fingers like toothpicks. Tossed him from too high up. Forced his body into doll clothing.

Ryan was only told to witness it today, and Lily set him up on top of the dresser, right on top of a stupid glittery jewelry box.

Josh’s nose was bleeding, and he thought his mouth was, too. She’d set him on top of a block tower, then knocked it over with a squeal. When Lily plucked his little body from the rubble, a bruise was already blooming on his cheek, blood smearing on her fingers.

“You saved me, Lily, thanks!” Josh chirped happily. His lips were cracked and his teeth were pink, blood pooling at the corner of his mouth.

Ryan turned away and paced again and again. His feet were starting to blister from walking in circles, but he couldn’t make himself sit still.

He was supposed to be a cop, a protector. He was called to serve and protect!

And here he was, placed on a dresser like a ceramic angel, unable to do anything while a grown man was brutalized by a little girl. Every time she dropped Josh, or pinched his arms too hard, or squeezed his body tight in her fist, he felt his body react. He wanted to run forward and pull Josh out of her hands, like any good person would. Now that he knew Josh was fully human, just like him, the urge was becoming desperation. But he couldn’t. He was just as small and powerless.

He was angry at Lily. The little girl that claimed his life and stole his humanity.

He was angry at Josh, that a grown man could be handled and battered like that and still say thank you.

Angry that some part of him, deep down in the depths of his soul, the part that remembered the tape and Ella’s fingers, was starting to whisper that it would be easier to give in.

“I can’t be this,” he muttered, to no one. “I won’t be like this.”

But the soft pink flower stencil on the wall didn’t answer.

And Josh, blood still wet under his nose, smiled up at Lily like nothing had happened.

Ethan could see it in Josh’s face when he and Ryan were returned. His face was distant, his limbs were trembling. He was looking at his hands like they didn’t belong to him anymore.

Josh was still damp, his hair still dripping with cold water. Ethan shivered. That meant there’d been blood, and that Josh had been held under the tap and rinsed off. It had been a bad one.

But Ethan could tell it was more than just physical. There was that distance in his eyes that Ethan recognized from looking at from below. Josh was at his limit.

Ryan was no help. As soon as he was placed on the floor, he’d gone back to the corner to begin trying to climb the stuffed animals, muttering curses under his breath.

Ethan helped Josh to his feet, led him over to their bed, and had him sit.

                “What happened out there?” Ethan said, putting his arm around Josh’s shoulders. Josh only shook his head, eyes still far away. He glanced at Ryan, still moving, still functional, and something in his jaw clenched, furious and ashamed.

Ryan never stopped fighting. Ryan never went empty. But… she didn’t hurt Ryan as much as she hurt Josh. Not yet, anyway.

Ethan frowned.

He felt so helpless It was ironic. He used to know exactly what to do, exactly how to slow his breathing and stretch out in Josh’s massive, cradling palm without hesitation. But… he didn’t know how to reach him anymore. He’d never been good with words, and worse with knowing the right thing to say.

But Ethan knew what to do.

He pushed himself off the bed and sank to the floor. His knees scraped the hard wood of the toybox bottom and he settled himself down, wrapping his arms around Josh’s legs. He set his head in Josh’s lap and waited.

Josh’s fingers found him first. Shaky and hesitant, but already moving without even thinking.

Ethan closed his eyes. Of course.

Of course he remembered how to do this.

Josh’s hand slid into his hair and began to move, brushing it, petting it, each pass steadier than the last. He fell into rhythm too easily, and it almost felt compulsive.  

It was like slipping on an old jacket, one that was already worn in and comfortable. Josh’s hand found the rhythm, and Ethan let himself relax into it.

Ethan carefully let out a steady breath, enjoying the familiar feeling. When he’d been ¼ inch tall everything had overwhelmed him, even things like this.

But now he found himself missing it.

And it clearly still helped. This was good. He could still help. He was still worth something to someone.

Josh let out a breath above him, like a man stepping out for his first smoke in weeks. His hands weren’t trembling anymore. God help him, it still worked. But still… Josh didn’t say anything to him. Didn’t pull him off the floor.

Ethan stayed where he was, head bowed under Josh’s hand, knees on the wooden floor beneath, until it became clear Josh wasn’t going to stop.

The old rhythm continued – no adjustments for their new reality.

A strange chill passed through him, quiet and bitter. But he couldn’t move without disrupting everything he’d just built.

This was still good. He was still needed. He knew if he looked up he would see Josh smiling, and that made it all worth it.

Josh kept petting him like a lifeline.

Neither of them said a word.

Ryan slipped, his fingers unable to use the silky fur of the stuffed animals to climb properly. His fingers ached, but his limbs were still buzzing.

He glanced over to where Josh and Ethan were sitting on the bed.

No.

They weren’t both sitting.

Josh sat on the edge of the bed, spine slumped, his hands moving like he wasn’t in control of his own limbs.

But Ethan… Jesus.

He was on the floor. Kneeling like a dog. Arms wrapped around Josh’s leg like a lifeline. His head was heavy in Josh’s lap. And he just stayed there. Still. Eyes open.

His stomach twisted, and he made a face.

Josh’s hand kept moving through Ethan’s hair again and again. And again. Like he was picking at a scab that he wouldn’t let heal.

It wasn’t the intimacy of their touch. God no – Ryan had been out for years. He’d seen all kinds of love. He didn’t judge. If they wanted to be affectionate, whatever. It bothered him that they wouldn’t just be honest about it, but that wasn’t what was making him feel so nauseous.

It was the ritual. The compulsion.

It was the echoes of Lily in Josh’s eyes. The flash of possession. The practiced way Josh’s fingers curled through his hair – mechanically, like flicking a lighter until the flame burned steady.

And Ethan’s face, God. He looked defeated and blank and limp, like he knew his place was there, kneeling! And not just for Lily, because she forced him to, for Josh. A peer! That made it even worse, somehow?

How could Josh not recognize the expression? Ryan had just seen it on his face, clutched in Lily’s careless fist, blood dripping from his nose. He’d seen it on Josh’s face as he thanked her for abusing him.

And now here was Josh, his supposed ally in this nightmare. The one who’d told him that Ethan wasn’t a toy. That if Ryan treated him like a pet they would have a problem.

This was what that moral high ground looked like?

Josh’s hand hadn’t let up in its relentless movement. His jaw was slack, his expression dazed, almost euphoric, like a man with his lips around a bottle of vodka.

Ryan knew that look. He’d seen it on the faces of the men he took in for possession. Josh was high.

Ryan clenched his fists. What the fuck was happening here?

He wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Something hot curled in the back of his throat. Disgust.

No – not disgust. Betrayal.

Josh had lied to him. But he hadn’t just lied to Ryan. He was lying to himself. He lied about his actions, even as he spat at Ryan just for looking wrong at the guy.

And Ethan—

God. He wanted to feel bad for him. The kid looked hollowed out. He was so far gone he didn’t even seem to know this was messed up.

But Ryan could see what Ethan couldn’t – the look on Josh’s face. Josh knew. On some level, he knew this was wrong. He knew he was taking advantage of the one person who trusted him.

And he still didn’t stop.

Didn’t pull Ethan off the floor. Didn’t talk to him, or even acknowledge him. He just kept treating him like some kind of comfort object. A heated blanket with a pulse.

He didn’t say anything. But his jaw tightened.

Josh looked up briefly. Their eyes met.

For the first time since he’d first found the two of them in the bottom of the toybox, Ryan didn’t look at Josh and see a protector.

He saw an addict.

And the man he turned into a drug.

The next morning began with Ethan’s retrieval. Ryan watched him go limp and empty before Lily had even wrapped her fingers around him.

The expression was too familiar.

Josh was sitting on the edge of their bed, using his pocketknife to scrape off the stubble on his face.

                “Rough night?” Ryan said, stepping over. His posture was calm. In control. Josh looked up at him, rubbing his cheek.

                “Uh, yeah, I guess. Little achy.”

                “He always sleep like that after?” Ryan sharpened his tone, just slightly.

Bingo.

Josh stiffened, his face tightening, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

                “What are you talking about?”

Time to curve away. Soften the blow.

                “You’re good with him. Calm him right down.” He said, keeping his tone light – almost casual. Josh relaxed his shoulders.

                “Oh. I mean, yeah. He needs it sometimes. He gets overwhelmed a lot since… Since he came back.”

                “Did he tell you that? Or do you just know?”

Josh flinched this time. He flicked his pocketknife closed and set it gently in his pocket. His fingers lingered just a moment.

                “I… I mean he doesn’t have to tell me. You don’t know what we’ve been through. Together.” Josh said, his voice tight.

Ryan put his hands up.

                “Okay, okay. You’re right. I don’t know what you’ve been through.” He paused. “But… it’s just interesting how you didn’t say anything to him.”

                “What are you saying?” Josh said, his tone guarded. Ryan shrugged, hands in his pockets.

                “I’m not saying anything. But, you know… neither is Ethan.” Josh stiffened, and Ryan pressed a little harder. “He just… does things for you. Right?”

That got a response. Josh clenched his fists, his face darkening.

                “I’m helping him. He needs me.” Josh said, his voice strangled.

Ryan scoffed.

                “Didn’t look like that to me. You’re really going to sit here and tell me that Ethan was the one getting anything out of that… ritual last night? He’s not your therapy dog.”

Josh glared at him.

                “I told you – he’s not a pet. Don’t you dare talk about him like that.” His voice was angry. But Ryan wasn’t cowed this time.

                “You told me Ethan wasn’t a pet, and I believed you. So you tell me – what do you call a man you keep on the floor, kneeling by your feet?”

Josh froze.

His face flushed immediately, his mouth opened – but nothing came out. He clenched his jaw, curling his fists into the blanket by his sides.

Ryan didn’t say anything. He let the silence work for him.

                “It… it’s not like that.” Josh said, lamely.

                “No?” Ryan tilted his head, raised an eyebrow. “Then what is it like? What am I missing?”

Josh’s face twisted.

                “It’s… we’re just close. What, is that a problem for you?” He said. Ryan rolled his eyes and scoffed. He heard Josh’s implication loud a clear.

                “I’m gay. It’s not a problem for me if you want to be close.” He ignored Josh’s startled look. “I care about whether Ethan feels like he can say no.”

                “What – he can say no!” Josh said, his voice rising. Ryan felt a surge of satisfaction. Josh was getting rattled. “He- he came to me! He chose me.”

                “Did he, really? Didn’t look like a choice when he went to you. It looked like he’d already decided he doesn’t get to choose anything.” Ryan sniffed. “And I didn’t hear you stop him when he put his head in your lap. You know… I don’t think I heard you say anything at all.”

Josh narrowed his eyes.

                “I – I don’t need to. And neither does he.” He said, though his voice was beginning to lack conviction.

                “That’s interesting.” Ryan said, folding his arms, stepping closer. “How you speak for him.”

                “I… I didn’t ask him to get on his knees for me.”

                “But you didn’t pull him up, did you? You didn’t ask him to move.” Ryan said, his voice piercing through the room. Josh dropped his eyes, his voice faltering.

                “No. I didn’t. But… if he’d have asked me to stop, I would’ve. I swear.” Ryan’s face tightened.

                “But you knew he wouldn’t, didn’t you?” Ryan said, the accusation sitting heavy between them. “You know he won’t stop you. And you take advantage of that.”

Josh acted like he’d been slapped. His face went red and his mouth fell open.

                “That’s not fair.” He countered, but his voice cracked halfway through.

                “You’re right.” Ryan said, keeping his voice steady. “It’s not fair. To Ethan.”

The tension went out of Josh’s shoulders. His gaze dropped. Ryan took a small step backwards. Time to ease up.

                “You think you’re all that he has left. You’ve placed yourself in front of him as a protector. I get that. That’s not evil, Josh.” Ryan said, letting a little softness into his tone. “But is that what he needs?”

Another moment of silence passed between them. One more nudge.

                “Does he need you? Or does he want you to need him?”

Josh closed his eyes and let his head drop. His fists clenched.

                “He… I’ve always looked out for him, okay? Even before we were like this. Even before he was even smaller.”

                “I believe that. I truly believe that Ethan trusts you.”

Ryan took a step forward again. Josh was off his guard now. It was time to move in.

                “But that’s the problem. He trusted you then. And you used him.” He paused. “He trusts you now. And you’re still using him.”

                “I’m not using him!” Josh said, his voice ragged. “I’m… I’m not.”

He wasn’t going to let that one slide.

                “Don’t lie to me, Josh. Not right now.” He said, his voice soft, now. “I saw that expression on your face last night. I’ve seen it a million times. Even made it myself, when I tried to quit smoking.”

Josh squeezed his eyes closed and dug his palms into his eyes.

                “You turned yourself into a cage. Maybe when he was smaller it made sense. I wasn’t there. But you’re still keeping him in it, Josh. One he doesn’t know he can leave.”

                “I’m… just trying to help him.” Josh said brokenly. “I’m trying to keep him safe.”

                “Are you trying to keep him safe?” Ryan said. “Or are you just trying to keep him?”

Josh broke down. Tears began to leak from behind his hands as he took in shuddering breaths.

There it was.

                “Okay.” Ryan murmured. “That’s the first honest thing you’ve done for him yet.”

He didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t need to.

Chapter Text

Josh grit his teeth, fighting to let his mind go blank and dissociate through the day like he always did – but it was hard, today.

She was rougher than normal, her fingers tighter around his limbs, her games even more intense.

Ryan always fought her. Always screamed when she grabbed him, refused to say his lines.

And she took it out on Josh. She made him overcompensate for Ryan’s lack of cooperation. And of course, the asshole then came back to take it all out on Josh and Ethan, screaming at them and calling them bitches and cowards and meth-smoking trailer trash.

He tried to be even more cooperative, say the lines just like she wanted, but every time Ryan resisted, she took it out on the one who complied. It was like she was trying to teach Ryan a lesson using Josh’s body.

 And then he’d stuck his nose into his relationship with Ethan. His face still burned when he remembered their confrontation. He didn’t want to think about that, but he hadn’t been able to talk to Ethan the same since. Not only did that blue jacket-wearing jerk make his days with Lily worse, he’d ruined the only good thing he had in his life.

Josh hated him.

He wasn’t proud of the fact, but he took a little satisfaction when Lily punished him, bruising his chest, making him hurt. Served him right.

But right now, of course, Ryan was ruining everything again, and Lily was taking it out on Josh. She’d gotten so tired of his fighting that she’d picked Josh up, holding him in front of Ryan.

              “This is what I want you to be like!” She said harshly, squeezing Josh in her hand. Ryan shook his head.

              “I’d rather die! You can’t break me, bitch!” Ryan screamed back, and Lily sighed, looking down at Josh with her mouth twisted.

              “Come on, Ryan! Josh can show you what to do.” Lily said, opening her hand. Josh trembled. He hated when Lily used him as an object lesson, but what could he do? He’d already learned long ago that there was no use in fighting, something Ryan had yet to understand.

He lay in her hand, panting, his chest already screaming in pain, as she pinched her finger around his shin. He braced himself. She was going to lift him by that leg and hold him upside down. He didn’t know how long it would be, it might not stop until he passed out.

His heart hammered in anticipation of the pain and pressure, building to a nauseating crescendo.

I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. Please… don’t do this!

He whimpered, a tear escaping his eye at the futility of it all. Nothing mattered. He didn’t matter.

Oh god, it hurts, he thought, though he knew better than to say the words out loud anymore. She’d giggle, maybe shush him, tell him he wasn’t grateful enough.

Her palm disappeared underneath him, and he dangled from her vice-like grip on his leg. He waited for his prompt.

Sometimes she wanted him to struggle. Sometimes she wanted him to wait until she began to play with his other limbs, or grind her finger into his stomach.

Jesus, her fingers are so tight – I can’t even—

Her other fingers closed around his torso, digging into his chest. He began to squirm in her grip, just like she knew he wanted, but the pain was growing. The pressure built in his head, making his thoughts go fuzzy at the edges.

Think of Ethan. This will end, just like every other day before. It will pass. You’ll get a fruit snack. Maybe a cookie this time. You’ll split it – just like always. Fight about the best bite.

It will pass. It will end.

But of course, even his only good daydream was ruined because of Ryan. Now he just felt guilty about wanting to go back to Ethan. Now it felt tainted, somehow.

He kept fighting. Her fingers were slick with sweat, and he slipped, just a little. His heart raced as he thrashed one more time, this time with involuntary fear of being dropped.

Her fingers tightened, just for an instant—

Snap.

White-hot searing pain. There wasn’t room for anything else. His mouth forced itself open in an involuntary scream, inhuman in its agony. He’d never felt anything so painful.

His leg—

His leg felt like it was on fire. No, it was worse than fire, it was like lightning, searing and hot and aching all at the same time.

He was falling. Lily’s palm materialized into him and the warmth was searing. Nausea bloomed in his stomach.

His arms didn’t work, his muscles were completely useless in the face of the mind-altering pain. He collapsed, only pausing his scream long enough to heave in a breath to scream again.

              “Josh, what happened?” Lily said, her voice trembling above him. He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t.

              “Jesus – he needs help! You need to get him help, Lily!” Ryan shouted from far away, but Josh could barely hear him.

There was no space in his mind for anything but flaming agony in every synapse of his brain. He curled around the leg the best he could, but every movement just awakened new nerves that burned with raging fire.

              “Oh no… I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to!” She wailed, her voice cracking.

She was sorry? That didn’t make sense. When was Lily ever sorry?

Her fingers closed around the break, as if she could fix his leg by straightening it. Josh’s eyes widened with terror, but he couldn’t stop her, just watch.

              “L-let me fix it, I’ll just—”

              “Stop! Don’t touch him, you could—” Ryan’s voice, hoarse and furious. Too late.

Her fingers twitched. Josh screamed again, his back arching, his limbs curling in pain that somehow supplanted the moments before.

Her fingers sprang open, but her hand still hovered over him, trembling. He could hear her say something else, but all he could hear was his own blood-curdling screaming.

Adrenaline coursed through him as he pried his eyes open, willing himself to look at the damage.

It made him nauseous to even look at it. His knee was bent the wrong way.

No.

That wasn’t his knee.

His screams fractured to sobs, his chest ached from the ragged noises, but his body wouldn’t let him stop. His limbs trembled uncontrollably as he threw his body back, his back thrashing as he curled his hands to fists.

He heard Ryan scream something foul, ragged and furious, but the words couldn’t penetrate the ringing in his ears.

His vision darkened at the edges and he felt his stomach churn, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

              “I didn’t – I didn’t mean – Mommy!” Lily shouted, beginning to cry, tears running down her red face. Josh only barely saw her panicked face before vomited all down the front of his shirt.

The smell hit him – acrid and sour - and his stomach lurched again. He turned to the side, heaving into her hand.

He couldn’t even move. He could only sit there, shaking in shame and pain. His vision swam, white pinpricks of light dancing in front of his eyes.

He was still sobbing, his voice completely raw.

Lily was going somewhere, cradling him in her palms. Each step sent another lightning bolt of furious pain through his leg, keeping him from being able to focus on where he was being taken.

Ethan.

Oh god, Ethan!

No, no! Ethan wouldn’t know what happened to him! He had to go back, he needed him, he couldn’t do this without him!

He didn’t care what Ryan said, all he wanted was Ethan – he wanted to hold him close, he wanted to hear him talk, he needed him.

Lily’s hands curled around him, her palm softening underneath him. For the first time in months, Josh felt like he was being handled with care, like an injured bird. It didn’t matter.

There was nothing but pain.

His sobs broke into whimpers as his brain slowly replaced the pain with static. He gasped in air as his face burned, the drying sweat and tears stinging his cheeks.

I can’t move. I can’t fight. I can’t—

Her arms bounced slightly with each step, jostling him despite her attempts to cradle. The rhythm of her movement became its own torture — unpredictable, relentless. Each step tore an agonized sob from his throat.

A door opened in front of Lily, and another figure towered over him.

Ella.

His stomach turned again and he tried to hold himself still – but the pain roared through him again, and his entire body began to shake. He was so hot and so cold at the same time. Drops of panicked sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

His breath came in ragged gasps and sobs, his chest rising and falling erratically as he stared up at the woman who regarded him with something like… worry?

              “M-mommy, I broke him!” Lily sobbed.

Ella let out a soft, chiding ‘tsk’ as she reached down, her fingertip grazing his damp forehead. The touch was deceptively gentle and her skin was cool on his forehead. Her finger lingered just a second too long.

When she smoothed back his sweat-matted hair, he felt the tiniest tremble in her touch.

              “Oh, honey. What happened to the little darling?” Her expression was arranged into concern, like a perfectly curated mask, but Josh could see the barest twitches of a smile on her giant face. She looked almost pleased.

              “I- I didn’t mean to, I promise! I – he… We were just playing, and I pinched him too hard and I felt something snap and then he started screaming—”

              “Shh, shh…” Ella soothed as she knelt down, running her hand down Lily’s face and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay, sweetie, don’t worry.”

Ella looked down at him and smiled.

Though her eyes were soft, there was no confusion in them. She didn’t look worried or panicked or even stressed. She looked satisfied and in control.

He opened his mouth to speak, his throat raw and ragged.

              “Please…” It came out in a grating breath. Ella’s eyes widened, and he saw something hungry in her face.

              “I’ll take care of him now.” She reached into Lily’s hands, scooping Josh into her own hands.

He was transferred like a broken animal from one handler to another. He cried out as his leg was moved, but he only received looks of pity in return.

He felt his heart rate rise as he felt his stomach grow cold. He was in her hands again. They were cool and careful, almost a relief. It gutted him that it felt so good. How his body melted, grateful for her gentleness even as his mind screamed.

              “I didn’t mean to… to hurt him.” Lily murmured sadly, tears streaking down her pink cheeks.

              “I know, honey.” Ella’s tone was soft, her smile patient. She used the gentle tone of a mother trying to raise a thoughtful child. “Mistakes happen. That’s how we learn. But when you’re not careful…” She let her gaze fall to her hand, where Josh lay curled and trembling, twitching with every pulse of pain. Her finger traced next to his broken leg. “They break.”

She lowered her hand down between them, angling her palm so that Josh was on full display. He whimpered as their eyes both turned down to him.

“See how small he is?” she murmured. “How easy it is to forget how fragile they are?”

Lily nodded, eyes glassy. She stared at Josh like he was a little animal, broken and afraid, and not a person that was hurting and screaming silently. Ella smiled gently and drew Lily into a one-armed hug, holding Josh between them, the object lesson of the day.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. This is how we learn. We take care of the things we hurt.” She gave Lily’s back a soft rub, like they’d just talked through a scraped knee or a fight at school. “That’s what makes us good.”

Josh tried to move, to lift a hand, to make a sound, but only another hoarse whimper came out. No one looked at him.

Lily stared down at her hand, the one that Josh had just been in. Stained with vomit and slick with sweat, droplets of blood near the heel of her hand. Ella glanced over.

“Now why don’t you go wash your hands and put your things away, we have to head out for soccer soon, okay?”

Lily rubbed her eyes, swallowing heavily.

              “Okay, mommy.” Her voice was small. She peered into Ella’s hand, where Josh was still cradled, curled and shivering. “I…I’m sorry, Joshie.” She said mournfully, running her little finger over his head, gently petting his hair. “I didn’t mean to.”

He didn’t doubt that she meant it. Her bottom lip trembled, the guilt written all over her face.

She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. That hurt more than anything else.

And then she turned and walked away. She’d handed him off like a dog at the vet. He wasn’t comforted. He wasn’t safe. Ella smiled down at him.

              “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Her voice was soft as silk. “I’ve got you, now.”

He knew. It scared the shit out of him.

Chapter Text

Whooo, I got some art for this one!! :D Again, I'm no professional, but I'm SO HAPPY with how these turned out!!

Ella Young                        Josh in Ella's hand <3

Ahhh, Josh turned out so cute, it breaks my heart!! This is pretty much exactly how big he would be in a small woman's hand. This is exactly how I picture him at the opening of this chapter, tears in his eyes and all. I love Ella's expression too, it turned out basically exactly how I wanted her to look. The face she's making is what poor tiny Josh is looking at from her hand!! :D

Plus, Ella's hand uses my hand as a reference, so it's almost like I'm holding tiny Josh. >_< Hehe I love it!

I listened to this song La petite fille de la mer (Remastered) while I wrote this chapter, so turn it on if you want to feel the vibes I had when I wrote it. 

Josh’s eyes fluttered open.

The room was dimly lit and warm, with spirals of steam swirling through the air.

Something was tugging at his leg that hadn’t been there when he’d passed out. He gasped, sitting up, the events of the day finally flooding back. Lily’s fingers around his shin, the agony of the broken leg. Ella. He looked down.

His leg was splinted with two halves of a broken toothpick, meticulously filed down to keep the splinters from stabbing him. Delicate frayed cotton from a cotton ball was packed around his shin. The whole thing was tied together with blue sewing thread. He wondered how she’d managed to do something so delicate with fingers that outsized his entire body.

He remembered being passed from Lily to Ella. He remembered Ella’s massive looming over him, a calm smile on her face. He’d passed out as soon as Ella had begun to straighten his leg, the agony cutting arcs through his brain until it all went dark.

His jeans were gone. He was sitting there in just his boxers and T-shirt. He felt incredibly exposed.

There was a heartbeat underneath him. Soft skin cupped under his body.

He flinched, looking around wildly. He was still in her hand. He instantly fell back as pain flared from his leg like a live wire.

                “Shh… it’s okay, sweetheart.” A gentle, soft voice from above him. “I’ve got you.” He stared up. Ella’s face hung over him, a deceptively kind look on her face. Her skin radiated warmth, pulsing with her echoing heartbeat. Each groove in her skin was deeper than the scars on his back.

He was completely helpless.

Her fingers approached, pinching around the hem of his shirt, her nails each catching on the delicate fabric.

                “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel so much better after, I promise.” Her voice was soothing. Something in his chest ached, like a desire from childhood he’d buried so deeply he’d almost forgotten it existed.

Still, he didn’t want her to take his shirt from him. It was his and he had nothing left.

His hands pressed weakly against her fingertips, but his muscles were already destroyed and trembling. Ella let out a quiet ‘tsk’ above him. 

                “Shh, shh. You poor little thing. Look at you – soaked in sweat. Poor baby.” Her fingers slid under his shirt, expertly lifting it over his head, overriding his resistance as if it didn’t exist. He couldn’t fight her.

He almost didn’t want to. God, resisting hurt so much.

Shame blossomed deep inside his gut, curled right next to the comfortable relief that had formed there.

No… think about Ethan. He ordered himself, clenching his jaw.

She smiled down at him, her head tilted, and he shivered. He was almost completely naked, stripped to nothing but his boxers and his splint. Her gaze was calm, neutral. Maternal.

Her hand disappeared, and he heard liquid lapping from below. Something dripping, like a cloth being wrung out, water like a waterfall.

He closed his eyes, conjuring Ethan’s face. His green eyes, his red hair, his quiet, gentle laugh.

He’s real. She’s not real.

Then she pressed the corner of a washcloth to his chest.

He gasped – a strangled sound that died in his throat. It felt like a wet quilt against his skin, soaked in water that was just on the edge of too hot. It was covered in lather that smelled of oranges and roses, and he felt his body tense, expecting pain. But… she didn’t hurt him. She just moved it softly over his bare chest, smiling like nothing was wrong.

She moved the cloth slowly, as though he were made of paper, as though he might disintegrate if she pressed too hard. Every stroke was gentle and deliberate. It confused his body. It confused him too.

Lily sometimes washed him. If he got too bloody, too dusty, she’d clamp him tight in her hand and hold him struggling and gasping under the tap. No soap, no warmth. She never undressed him, just let the cold water pour over his clothes, his boots, his body, scrubbing him with her thumb until he bruised.

She’d set him on a rag to drip-dry, like a plate in a dishrack, water pooling in his boots. He’d shiver like a rat flushed from a sewer drain while she walked away, leaving him there until he was finally dry.

That was washing. That was normal.

This… this was something else entirely.

                “There we go… see? Not so bad. Just needed a little love, didn’t you, baby?”

Her words slid under his ribs like a gentle hand, curling around his heart where nobody had even touched.

He wanted to scream, to shove her hand away. To reject the reverent care with which she handled him. She was treating him like he wasn’t dangerous. Like he’d never fought her. Like he’d never mattered enough to hurt. Just something small, soft, and hers to keep clean.

He couldn’t move.

It wasn’t just the pain in his leg. It was the warmth of the cloth. The gentleness of her touch. The softness of her words.

Even if he wanted to move, he couldn’t; the pressure of her thumb alone was enough to hold him in place.

Even as tears spilled down his face, his body melted into her palm, seeking out the rhythmic brush of the heavy cloth on his bare skin. She avoided his broken leg, cradling it while she cleaned around it.

He let her.

He let her wash him tenderly. He let her whisper comfort into his ear. He let himself be cared for.

He’d been loved before. Lacey had adored him, shielded him, stood between him and pain. But she couldn’t touch him like this. She hadn’t ever held him like something breakable, or precious, or soft. Her love was human scale; she loved him like an equal.

This… this was something else entirely.

This felt like home, or childhood, or safety… The kind he’d never had.

                “There you are,” Ella whispered, carefully running the cloth over his head, scrubbing him gently behind the ears. “Isn’t that nice?”

He flinched instinctively. His mother used to grab him by the hair when he got in the way. Used to cuff his ears, dig her nails in behind his jaw to drag him where she wanted him to be.

Ella touched those same places as she gently washed his head. She didn’t yank his hair, she didn’t hit the side of his head. Instead, she dragged the soft cloth in circles to wash every inch of him.

She only hummed softly, like a lullaby, as she gently used her thumb to angle him, moving the cloth to the other side. His breath caught in a quiet sob before he could stop it.

The washcloth passed over his chest again, warm, citrusy water pouring over him. It soaked through the thin cotton of his boxers, and goosebumps broke out over his entire body. He trembled in her palm, tears still running freely down his face.

                “Good boy,” she murmured softly, carefully stoking his face with the damp cloth. “You’re so brave.”

He hated how much those words hit like a punch to the gut. Hated how much he wanted to hear them.

He broke.

He curled his body against her fingers, whimpering softly in shame and surrender.

She ran the cloth down his back once more before setting it back in the sink, staring down at him, huddled in the curve of her hand.

                “There you are… there’s my sweet boy.”

Her smile wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t gloating.

It was satisfied.

Josh sat, completely still.

Once she’d gently dried him between fluffy layers of warm towel, she’d set him on a clean towel on one of her pillows, gently stretching his broken leg straight out.

The pillow dipped under his weight, cradling him in a nest of down and terrycloth. Every time he shifted, the towel bunched underneath him, the pillow dipping further like it wanted to hold him in place.

There was no traction or firmness, just give.

He tried once to brace his hands on the pillow and push himself up, but only managed to sink even further into this nest of cloth and feathers. His injured leg burned at the motion, and he dropped back with a quiet groan.

The fabric around him smelled overwhelmingly floral, like expensive shampoo. He was sitting where she had laid her head.

He imagined it. Her head would crush the pillow, enough blonde hair to drown him would spread over the pillowcase, flattening it. His entire body barely made a dent in the loft.

She’d given him back his shirt. It was clean and dry, for the first time in months. She’d washed it for him. But she’d kept everything else. His boots. Socks. Jeans. Even his jacket. The pieces that made him feel covered and real.

He was just sitting there, half dressed, just a shirt and underwear. His legs exposed. He felt unfinished.

For a moment, he’d wanted to try to cover himself – maintain some kind of modesty, even though he’d just been stripped nearly bare, washed as gently as a child, trembling weakly between her fingers.

The long fibers of the towel slipped uselessly through his fingers – he couldn’t even pull them into a shield. It didn’t matter anyway.

She wasn’t looking at him. He was sitting on her pillow, near the head of the bed, while she moved around the dresser, folding laundry and humming tunelessly. She was letting him sit in it. Letting him soak in the memory of her touch, while she gave him nothing now. No words, no looks, no more comfort.

He hadn’t realized until then how badly he wanted her to look at him again. To hold him. To say something kind.

To prove she still cared.

He wanted so much to be angry, but the fury just wouldn’t come. He laid back into the warm softness, listening to her voice, and let his limbs relax.

For so long, his life had been nothing but pain and fear and desperation. Survive the days with Lily. Keep Ethan safe. Push it all to the side until there’s nothing left.

He didn’t know how to exist in this quiet softness anymore.

His leg still throbbed, still stabbed him with pain every time he moved, but if he lay still, he could almost forget about it.

All he could feel was the phantom pressure of the washcloth, carefully brushing over him, pressed into his skin by a finger that could crush him from existence.

And she hadn’t. She hadn’t even tried. She’d handled him like he was made of silk, or delicate layers of blown glass.

It felt good.

How many days had he been tossed around by Lily like he was made of plastic? How many times had he been thrown to the floor, bruising like a pear? How many nights had he gone to bed trembling because the aches never left his joints?

And now – to be held like something important, like he was something worth preserving?

He wasn’t sure what to feel.

You should have tried to fight her! He screamed in his own head.

You didn’t want to, he whispered back.

Because what else did he have to look forward to? Lily’s sticky hands, poking him, gripping him, squeezing the breath from his lungs?

Was this better?

Or worse?

Josh had finally curled to his side in the pillow, succumbing to the naps that his tiny body forced him to take so frequently. He blinked awake as she folded the last towel, his mind foggy and aching.

His limbs were limp as she turned to him, a delicate smile just barely touching the corners of her mouth.

                “You were always so quiet in my hands.” She said, her voice as soothing – clear as a crystal glass.

Josh’s breath hitched. He saw flashes those first few moments of being small. Held in Ella’s hands and appraised by her fingers. Crushed between her palms. Pet by her finger.

He heard a gentle footstep. A shadow fell over him.

                “Still awake, little one?” He looked up, silently, into her face. Into her giant blue eyes, crinkled at the corners. His voice wouldn’t work. Nothing did. “Good. I was hoping you’d still be here with me.”

Still be here?

Where else would I be? Where could I go?

She lowered herself down, kneeling by the bed, her face even closer to him. He wanted to flinch away to do something, but his body was spent. He couldn’t even muster a whimper.

                “I gave you away, once, didn’t I?” She asked, reaching over to him. She placed a single finger on his chest. “Do you remember when I let you go?”

Josh felt a pang in his heart.

He swallowed. Hard. His mouth was dry.

He remembered.

Remembered the bruises, the strained ribs… and her hand, moments later, stroking his back like she hadn’t just punished him.

She’s going to love you. You’ll be just perfect.

He’d been gutted.

Why did you do this to me, then? Why did you touch me? Why did you bother with me at all?

The pressure on his chest was steady. He could feel the ridges of her fingerprint through the thin cotton of his shirt – could feel the pressure of his heart beating into her skin.

He took a ragged breath. Her smile widened, her teeth showing.

                “You wanted me to keep you, didn’t you?”

Josh felt his throat close, something hot and dark stinging in his eyes. He turned his face into the washcloth and trembled.

He nodded.

Her finger left his chest, and she gently ran it up and down his back – like checking the seams of a favorite toy.

                “You would have been such a sweet little thing. I should’ve kept you.” Her words were like spun sugar, sweet and airy. “You were trying so hard to learn.”

Then why didn’t you?

Why did you give me to her?

The words seared in his chest. He wanted to spit them out, but his jaw was frozen shut – crystalized with pain and bitterness.

But she saw them in his eyes anyway.

                “I didn’t want to give you away. But Lily needed you more. And you needed to be hers. You weren’t like this, yet.”

Josh’s breath hitched again, and he clenched his fists. Ella kept the pressure on his back, gently rubbing up and down his spine, pressing each vertebra with elegant precision, as if she was making sure they were all still there.

                “She doesn’t appreciate you, does she? I’ve seen the way she treats you. The bruises on your arms. The scars on your chest. That’s not how you care for something special like you.”

Her thumb pressed into his chest, and he was clamped between her fingers, trembling like a mouse. She held him completely and utterly, with a touch so gentle he couldn’t fight it. Her thumb effortlessly dwarfed his ribs, and he couldn’t even see around her fingers.

He should hate this. He should hate her. But God… her hand was warm and so incredibly gentle. His cheek pressed to her skin, and he felt the deep thrum of her pulse. It sounded like safety.

Like home.

                “And now I look at you and see what I could have. If I’d been a little more patient, waited just a little longer, I could have had you like this. You’re just so easy like this, aren’t you?”

Her fingers slipped underneath him, carefully cradling him between her palms, mindful, as she always was, of his broken leg.

He let himself be held – carried like an infant, his legs and bare feet pressed against the lines of her hand.

She was so soft.

And he was hers.

Again.

Chapter Text

Ethan sprang to his feet the moment the toybox was opened, light pouring in. Lily’s hand stretched above him.

He’d been pacing, his limbs buzzing his energy since he heard Josh scream. He’d never heard anything like it, not since his little brother Sammy had broken his arm jumping off swing. Josh hadn’t even sounded human anymore.

Was he hurt? Was he dying? He couldn’t hear him anymore, he couldn’t see anything! He’d spent an hour pounding on the side of the toybox, tears streaming down his face while he begged the dark silence to let him out so he could know what happened. His voice was raw, his cheeks stinging with salt.

His mind was spinning and panicking in a way he hadn’t felt in months, not since he first woke up the size of a goddamn mouse.

Ryan fell to the floor. Ethan ignored him, waiting for the second figure, but…

Her hand retreated and the box closed.

No. No!

He rounded on Ryan, eyes wide.

              “What happened?! Ryan – what happened? Where’s Josh? I heard him scream – he was screaming! Where the hell is he? Why isn’t he here?”

Ryan pushed himself to his feet, rubbing gingerly at his ribs.

              “He’d not dead.” He croaked. Ethan’s mouth fell open and he stopped in his tracks.

              “He’s not – what are you talking about? What the hell do you mean, he’s not dead?! What happened? Is he okay?” His eyes were tearing up, panic in his throat. “Why’d she put you back and not him?” Ryan grimaced.

              “She, uh… she hurt him, okay?” He said, and Ethan felt his fingers go numb.

              “She… she what?” His voice abandoned him. Ryan was lying, he had to be!

              “She broke his leg. God… B - between her fingers.” Ryan looked down, remembering the way he’d been twitching, upside down, dangled by his shin like a spider, before…  “She pinched his leg too hard. It just – it snapped.” His face was green.

              “No, no – he wouldn’t break. She’s… stepped on him before and he was fine! Why the hell –” Ethan stepped up, getting in Ryan’s face. He was shorter than him, but his anger inflated his presence. “You just stood there and watched? He never broke when I was there! What the hell is wrong with you!”

Ryan took a step back. This was far cry from the shy little thing that had stared quietly up at him, ready to be held. This wasn’t the same person that slipped away when Josh touched his back.

This Ethan was burning, and Ryan could respect that, even if he was actually a little intimidated right now.

              “What the hell was I supposed to do? I’m four goddamn inches tall!” Ryan said, folding his arms. Ethan’s face grew as red as his hair.

              “Anything!” He shouted, his voice cracking. “You- you were there! How could you just watch? Jesus, I bet you didn’t even try! Y-you probably fucking laughed!”

              “I was stuck on the table! I’m tiny, just like you! Ethan, I couldn’t reach him. I couldn’t even get down!” His bitterness was beginning to leak through. Ethan could see in his face that he felt guilty about not being able to do anything, but he didn’t care. Ryan was always so cruel to him, and hated Josh. Fuck Ryan, Ethan was sick of him!

              “Fucking excuses.” Ethan spat, and Ryan blinked at him, shocked and confused. Where was this coming from? He didn’t even know Ethan was capable of anger like this. “You call me a coward.” Ethan said in a low, dangerous voice. “So, where the fuck were you when Josh got hurt? What were you doing, huh? What should I call you?”

Ryan swallowed, his chest feeling clogged. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and his head felt foggy and tired.

              “I… Ethan, what did you want me to do?” He said, his voice tense. Ethan’s lip curled.

              “Whatever you want me to do when you blame me for all your fucking problems! Whatever you want Josh to do when you start freaking out at us! Jesus, you’re useless!” He shouted, his face red, making his freckles stand out like stars. Ryan flushed. “Where did she take him?” Ethan asked, clenching his jaw. Ryan ran a hand through his hair.

              “I don’t know. Lily was crying – calling for mommy. Probably Ella.” His voice was flat.

Ethan’s eyes widened, and he swallowed, his anger deserting him. Dread rushed in to take its place.

              “No. Not – not Ella. Tell me she didn’t take him to her.” He said shakily.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. What was happening to this kid?

              “I don’t know, man, she didn’t tell me. I tried to ask – I swear. She didn’t listen to me!” He folded his arms. He was still getting used to the fact that he could be picked up and moved around like a plaything. It felt like nobody heard his damn voice out there.

              “So he’s gone.” Ethan said, his voice falling numb. The fire drained out of his eyes. “He’s… not coming back.”

Ryan sighed.

              “Probably not. Not for a while.” He turned away, pacing the floor, circling the building block they used as a table. She hadn’t given them anything to eat tonight. Maybe she forgot.

Ethan tore at the skin by this thumb, gnawing on the hangnails until they bled.

Ryan didn’t understand. He never did.

Ella had Josh. The woman who had made him small in the first place, the one who broke him in… she had him, all alone, and none of them could stop her.

Josh had told him what it was like, way back when he’d woken up to a different world than the one he remembered, and the way Ella had broken him in minutes. She was powerful and manipulative, and completely impossible to resist. When she’d shrunk Ethan the second time, he could see something terrifying on her face.

That woman was terrifying, and Josh was alone with her.

He needed to do something, he needed to reach out, help him, calm him down!

But there was nothing – nothing – he could do. He was trapped in the bottom of this toybox, just like he always was. Panic bubbled deep inside him.

His breathing quickened. He hadn’t panicked like this in forever. When he’d been micro-sized, there was nothing to worry about. Nothing to decide. Josh had basically taken over everything, feeding him, letting him sleep in his hands or on his chest.

Recently, all he had to do was survive Lily, come back and sleep. Sometimes he had to help Josh get through a night after a hard night.

He was a boat without a dock, a ship without an anchor.

              “Fuck – no! This can’t be happening!” Ethan cried, the heat deep inside him rising to his face, stinging his eyes. Ryan looked at him, his eyes widening.

              “Jesus, Ethan! W-what’s wrong?” He said, stepping back over, hands up as if to calm him. Ethan was hyperventilating now, his knees weakening.

He couldn’t form words, and he couldn’t get his brain to stop spiraling. Every breath came in gasps, and his vision started to swim at the edges.

He doubled over, hands on his knees, his mouth locked op in a silent scream he managed through his gasps.

What if he – oh god, what am I supposed to –

Where do I sleep – what if she breaks him –

What do I do when Lily comes back—

What am I supposed to do now?

Jesus, what if—

What if he doesn’t come back? What if she –

              “Woah, Ethan.” Ryan said, reaching his hand forward. Ethan saw the hand and processed for a moment, then stepped into it, settling Ryan’s hand on his back. It nestled between his shoulder blades, warm and firm.

It wasn’t the same. But it was close enough.

Close enough to the steady pressure of Josh’s thumb. Close enough to the pressure that pushed him to the brink and pulled him back. His thoughts began to bleed away, his mind going comfortably numb.

              “Oh, no, I’m not—” Ryan said, pulling his hand back as if Ethan had burned him. “I can’t do that for you.” Ryan’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to hurt the guy, but he wasn’t Josh. He couldn’t forget Ethan’s expression from before. He didn’t want to get tangled up in that horrifying weirdness.

Ethan felt like he’d been slapped. His face burned, his thoughts rolling back into his head, this time all tinged with sickening shame.

Fuck. He thinks I’m disgusting.

No, he thinks you’re pathetic.

Weak and disgusting and pathetic.

You are – you just tried to get him to calm you down, just like Josh—

Josh—

Oh god, what happened to him—

Is he dead? Is he screaming?

Fuck, what if—

              “Ethan!” Ryan shouted, grabbing his shoulders. Ethan looked up, trying to focus on Ryan’s blue eyes. Everything was blurry at the edges, panicked tears hung like a sheet over everything. “Dude, stay with me.”

              “I - I can’t…” Ethan choked, his breath coming in gasps. His fingers twitched, aching to reach for something to help him. Ryan sighed, then pulled Ethan into a hug, careful to keep his arms off his back. Instead, he pulled them up, under his arms, resting on Ethan’s shoulders.

Ethan collapsed into him, clinging like a needy child, heaving and sobbing into his jacket.

              “Easy, now.” Ryan said, his voice steady. “You’re good. We’re gonna be… fine. Come on, buddy, we’re gonna be fine.” Though Ryan wasn’t sure what was going to happen to them.

He didn’t know Josh like Ethan did. But Josh was stable. He kept everything on the ground. Without him… what were they going to do?

Ethan clung, his shoulder shaking and trembling while Ryan held him.

Ryan’s arms weren’t the same, but they were still real and warm. It made the spiraling thoughts in Ethan’s head slow down, just a little.

Ethan sat on the floor, back against the bed, his arms curled around his knees.

It must have been days since she came for them.

They could still hear her, moving around, getting up in the morning, leaving for school. But she never opened the lid, other than to set down some food, a stale potato chip or a sandwich crust, and lock them away again.

Ethan couldn’t take it. It felt like an insult.

She broke Josh, took him away, and now she was abandoning them to languish, alone and on edge.

When would she come for him? When would Ethan have to step up and fill Josh’s role?

He would never say it out loud, and he had trouble even admitting it to himself. But he didn’t think he could do it.

Ethan had seen the way Josh suffered. The ways that Lily broke him, day in and day out. The way his mind slipped away, spouting lines so deeply ingrained he’d never forget them. The brutality he endured so that Ethan didn’t have to.

She treated all of them badly, now, but Josh always had it the worst. He always volunteered for the really bad games, to play the hardest roles. Ryan never appreciated it, but Ethan did, every time. Everything he did for Josh was nothing in comparison, and if Ryan wasn’t even going to try, Ethan would give everything he could to keep Josh alive.

And now Josh was gone.

And all Ethan could feel was terror. That he was next. That he would become her Josh.

Oh god.

That next time her hands came down, they would break him, too.

Still, days passed, and she didn’t pick them up, or even touch them. Ethan’s skin crawled with the lack of it. He dreamed about hands every night. Josh’s. Lily’s. Sometimes his mother’s.

Sometimes he dreamed about Lily's hands around him, but when he looked up, he saw one of his sisters or brothers. Baby Ava, just barely a newborn when Ethan was taken. Or Reece, his next youngest sister. Sometimes Mimi or Milo, the twins. Those were the most terrifying.

And every day he woke up to nothing.

Ever since Ryan had actually softened the day Josh had been taken away, Ethan hadn’t been able to ask him for help.

With Josh, it had felt natural. Expected, even. They could curl into each other’s arms at night. Ethan could count on his hand on his back when he needed it. He never had to ask and neither had Josh.

But now, with Ryan, Ethan felt like a whipped dog, afraid to approach a new master. Desperate for touch but unable to ask without debasing himself.

Even now, Ryan paced the floor, committed himself to workouts, tried to climb out of the box on his own. He didn’t talk to Ethan much. Probably thought he had nothing worthwhile to say.

He wrapped his fingers around himself, pressing them hard into his arms, but it wasn’t the same. Not even close.

Where’s Josh?

What happened to him?

Ethan remembered one time his little sister Mimi had accidentally killed their goldfish after feeding it too much. He’d had to scoop the bloated little body out and bury it in the backyard before their mother got home and saw it.

He’d bought a new one from the pet store with his lunch money. Nobody had ever noticed.

But now all he could think of was how that little goldfish had felt in his hand as he carried it outside. What must he have looked like to it as it flopped lifelessly in his palm? What was it feeling as he buried it? It was just a helpless, broken little thing in the hands of an uncaring child.

Just like… just like Josh.

Was that how Josh had felt, broken and tiny in Lily’s hands? Did she bury him alive in the backyard? Flush him down the toilet? Throw him in the trash? Jesus, how many times had Ethan just… tossed a broken toy without thinking? The image burned into his mind of Josh, limp, leg broken off to the side, laying silently in a pile of garbage. His stomach churned.

He dug his nails into his fingers again, desperate for the stinging pain to help ground him. He wished Lily would come back. He wished he was back in Josh’s palm. He wished Ryan would hold him again.

Anything but left alone.

Ethan couldn’t sleep.

He thought it might be raining outside. He could hear the rhythmic pounding of rain on glass, muffled through the wood of the walls.

His brain buzzed with thoughts he couldn’t put in order. His limbs kept moving, twitching the way the used to. Before… everything. Before his world had been shrunk to the size of a toybox and the hands inside it. It felt like phantom fingers were on his arms, pressing him inwards like they wanted him to be smaller. Lily still hadn’t come for them. His skin still ached.

Ryan stirred. He didn’t sleep in the bed Josh and Ethan had created. He’d pulled stuffing out from one of the stuffed animals, and threw a little blanket scrap over it like a nest. He called it his beanbag chair.

              “You breathe different when you can’t sleep.” He said, quietly. Ethan startled, his heart racing.

              “S-sorry.” He said, begging his limbs to stay still. They never did anymore. “I’ll settle down. Can’t help it.”

He closed his hands into fists, trying to keep them from fidgeting again, tearing new strips of skin from his thumbs. He buried his face in their fabric scrap pillow, his jaw trembling. God, it even smelled like him, like sweat and cedar and dust.

              “This is hard.” Ryan said, turning over, facing Ethan’s back. The words hung in the air between them for a moment, the sound of the rain filling the silence. “I miss Mateo.”

              “Mateo?” Ethan said, pushing himself up. “Friend of yours?”

              “Boyfriend.” Ryan sighed, gauging Ethan’s reaction. The redhead didn’t say anything, just nodded quietly. “Sorry. Never know how some people are going to react.”

Ethan smiled faintly.

              “I don’t think I’m in a position to judge anyone.” He said, running his hands up and down his arms. “I mean, look at me.” Ryan scoffed.

              “You’d be surprised what people think they’re entitled to judge.” He sighed, then raked his hand through his dark hair. “But… no, I miss him. Mateo. Fuck – I know I already said it. But I do.”

He closed his eyes, picturing Mateo’s face. Tanned, dotted with freckles, warm golden eyes that were always smiling. His long dark hair, the way he shaved his face every morning. The few gray hairs peppered in that he refused to acknowledge. The way he always worked himself up with anxiety, the way he let his imagination run away from him. Ryan swallowed.

              “I keep thinking about his hands. Not just… you know. I mean, obviously I miss the sex, but… I miss holding hands while watching a movie. Sometimes he’d rub my back before we went to bed.” His voice was quiet, and he wasn’t looking at Ethan anymore. “It just… it felt normal, being with him. I didn’t even think about it, you know? It didn’t feel wrong.”

Ethan swallowed. He knew the feeling. He’d never managed to hold down a steady relationship – never managed to secure something like Josh had with Lacey. His own romantic history was a long string of one-night-stands and failed Tinder dates.

But touch was second nature to him now. Whether it was a hand around his body, Josh’s arms around him, or a thumb pressed into his back. He almost didn’t feel right when someone wasn’t touching him.

“It just… it used to be easy, you know? Being with him. Touching him. I didn’t have to think about it, or feel like it was dangerous or… like, weird.”

He sighed.

              “Now, it’s… everything is too much.” Ryan continued, gripping his hands together. “Lily – and Ella. Even you. I feel like I can’t even reach out without making it all… weird, somehow. I just – I miss when it all came easily. He used to—”

Ryan choked, blinking fast and swiping at his eyes. He cleared his throat.

“He used to rest his hand on my shoulder while we brushed our teeth. Silly, I know. Just this little thing we did every night.” His voice cracked. “I, uh, didn’t realize how safe it made me feel until it was gone.”

The rain pattered far away as Ethan carefully folded himself back up on the bed.

Ethan shifted, his skin prickling under the weight of Ryan’s words. He didn’t mean to speak. He didn’t even know he was going to, until the words were already leaving him.

              “You remember how I said that I was really small for a while?” He said, his voice surprising himself. Ryan nodded.

              “Yeah. Like… God, like a quarter inch or something, right?” Ryan said, his face contorting again. He really didn’t like thinking about that as a possibility for anyone. Four inches was bad enough. A quarter inch was almost nauseatingly small. It gave him vertigo just thinking about it.

Ethan grimaced.

              “Right. I uh… I don’t know how to describe how it felt all the time. I mean, Josh was everything, you know? His hand was everything. It wasn’t like I always wanted all that contact, because it was like… all the time. But… I didn’t have a choice. You can’t survive like that unless someone’s always… touching you. Holding you.”

He looked down at his own palms, cupping them together. He smiled wistfully.

“He used to have to feed me crumbs.” He said, pinching his fingers together as if feeding a tiny being in his palm. “He’d break them down for me, set them in his palm with me. I slept on his chest.” He patted his own sternum, that same smile still on his face.

              “Wait – he couldn’t just… set you down?” Ryan asked, his eyes glued to Ethan’s hands. Ethan shook his head.

              “It’s… your skin is too thin, when you’re that small.” Ethan said, carefully running his finger over his wrist. “Can’t stay warm.”

Ryan shifted, his skin crawling. He tried to picture it, being so small he couldn’t even stay warm on his own. So small he needed someone else’s body just to exist. Would he trust someone that much? Could he?

Ethan hadn’t even had a choice.

              “I think… it’s easy to think that it’s because I was weak. And like, I was. Because anything could have killed me, right? Even just… falling off the bed. Or being too cold.” Ethan gently rubbed his arms, warming them with his hands. “But I needed to survive. I… I needed him. But, you know, it wasn’t just survival. It’s… there’s more to it.”

He closed his eyes.

“When you’re small, every touch is so… big. Josh used to use his thumb to rub my entire back, and I couldn’t even touch him back. He said he could feel me, sometimes. But I think he was lying. I think he just didn’t want me to feel like I didn’t matter anymore.”

Another moment of silence while Ethan carefully traced around his palm with his thumb.

              “Everything was overwhelming. But… you get used to everything eventually.” He took a deep breath and swallowed. “You know, I used to feel every single one of his breaths. Whenever he moved, I could feel his muscles move. I could feel his skin stretch. I measured time with his heartbeat. His body was time. When he… when he had to put me down, it felt getting dropped into space.”

He scrubbed at his eyes.

“And now it’s – now that we’re the same size, it feels like I’m speaking a different language. I mean, Jesus! Touch used to be everything! My whole body – all the time. I know him so well. Better than he could ever know me.”

He sniffed. Ryan held his breath.

“Now when I – when I reach out, you guys flinch away. Everything feels wrong. How do you go from living in someone’s heartbeat to sleeping by yourself? How do you stop craving a touch that doesn’t  even… exist anymore?”

Ethan opened his hands, then looked over to Ryan.

              “When I woke up, you know, this size, I reached for Josh. He… he pushed me away and said it was too much.”

He let the silence grow between them. When he spoke again, his voice was small.

“But… It felt the same to me.”

For a moment, they only heard the faint falling of rain on glass panes in the background. The air felt thinner somehow.

Ryan stood carefully, walking over to the bed. Ethan looked up, green eyes shining with emotion.

              “Jesus… that’s…” Ryan didn’t know what to say. It was already so messed up that he was small enough to be picked up and held on a regular basis. But to be so small that he needed to live in someone’s hand to survive? That was a terrifying feeling. No wonder Ethan struggled with being alone. No wonder he was so weird about touch. And… and Josh, too.

Ryan sighed, pressing his lips together regretfully.

“Fuck. Listen. I… I can’t say I understand what you’ve been through. This whole business is still… I mean, it’s all insane. But I think I get it. I mean, I get some of it, I guess.” He said, placing his hand on the bed between them. “None of this was fair to you.”

Ethan stared at his hand like it was a snake about to bite.            

“I can’t be Josh for you. I can’t… I won’t do what he did.” Ryan said, raising his eyes to Ethan’s. “But I’ll… try harder. I... uh... Jesus. I won’t get mad at you for the way you are, got it?”

Ryan kept his hand there while Ethan bit his lip, every line in his face tense.

But then he reached forward and rested his hand on top.

Ryan was surprised by how delicate his touch was, like a leaf on water. His skin was disturbingly smooth. Ethan’s skin barely felt real.

It was the smallest contact, but it was the first thing in days that didn’t feel wrong.

Chapter Text

Josh sat, alone in a jewelry box, lying still against the velvet padding, watching through the mirrored glass. He could see out, but no one could see him.  He could only watch as Ella and her husband moved around their room, going about their lives. They slept, they got dressed in the morning, they showered, they went to work.

How many days had he been in here? Safe and quiet, surrounded by velvet and glass.

Completely and utterly alone.

His skin burned. How many days since someone – anyone – had touched him? Ella glanced over to where he sat, sometimes, her face curved in a knowing smile, but she never opened the box. She never reached for him. Most of the time she acted like he wasn’t even there.

His broken leg ached, and he reached down to adjust the toothpick splint, wishing Ella would come and rewrap it for him. Somehow, her giant fingers could wrap it better than he could. He just… wanted to be in her hands again. He wanted anybody’s hands.

He missed Ethan desperately. Whenever Josh began to spiral, Ethan wasn’t there to help him calm down. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, or hold him in his palm, or anything else.

He even missed Ryan, in his own way. They were always on the edge of violence with each other. Ryan’s touch was harsh and aggressive, but even that would be something.

And Lily… he wanted to feel her hands around him, picking him out of the toybox to play with that day, telling him in her own way that he mattered to her.

His mind began to slip. His back tingled, like someone was running their fingers down it. He felt the weight of a human being in the center of his palm. The world felt so quiet without a heartbeat underneath him.

              “Please… someone just hold me…” He whispered. He closed his eyes, and he set his back against the glass wall. He was so tired, his mind began to drift.

He felt hands around him, long fingers, smooth and familiar and smelling of flowers. Lacey’s face, huge and smiling, looking down at him affectionately.

              “I’ve got you now, Josh, you’re my whole world.” She said, smiling in that familiar lopsided grin. “I need you, babe!” She was huge, but it was still her. She was still the same woman he’d loved since high school.

The smell of fruit and flowers surrounded him, almost crushing in its nostalgia. It smelled like their apartment and home.

Lacey brought her face closer, her tanned nose dragging through Josh’s hair, inhaling deeply. She let out a long, satisfied sigh.

“God, I missed this, I missed you…” she whispered, voice trembling. “You still smell like the same.”

Josh twisted in her hands, heart thudding. Lacey didn’t even notice, she just pressed in again, nose parting Josh’s hair, lips grazing his scalp. He tried to duck his head, but she just pressed his even closer.

              “Oh, Joshua… I need you.” She said again, his voice loud and booming, echoing through his chest, vibrating through his bones and into Josh’s body. “You’re mine. Don’t go anywhere, Joshua, I need you!”

Lacey’s fingers curled around his limbs, pinning them to his sides. Josh tried to gasp in a breath, but Lacey’s fingers only tightened.

              “I – Lacey!” He shouted, but his voice was so quiet, muffled by his skin. Lacey lifted him again, this time dragging her tongue over Josh, smearing spit over his entire body. He gagged at the sensation of tastebuds sliding over him – like a slab of raw meat.

Saliva soaked through his clothes, pooling in his ears, his mouth, his eyes. He squirmed against her grip desperately, panic starting to rise in his chest. What was happening?

“Lacey, stop!” he tried to scream, but his voice was swallowed and drowned by her tongue. Lacey groaned, a sound that vibrated straight through Josh’s ribs.

“Mmm, you taste just like I remember, baby!” She murmured, teasing her tongue underneath his chin. “God, what would I do without you?”

Josh threw his hands out, pressing against Lacey’s lips. Her mouth opened – ringed with rows and rows of sharp teeth – a swirling void at the back of her throat. She moved him closer and he was pushed helplessly toward her twitching tongue, the gaping throat.

              “Don’t! Lacey, Lacey – p-please don’t eat me! It’s… me!” Josh cried, kicking and squirming uselessly in Lacey’s hand, his heart pounding in his throat. He could feel the heat rolling off the pulsing and twitching maw, and he felt panicked tears prick his yes. “D-don’t… eat me…”

              “Of course it’s you. I know!” She said, and her mouth was closed again, smiling softly like normal. “This is just what I need from you, babe. And… you love me, too, right?”

Then Josh was falling, and Ethan appeared in front of his eyes, twisting and warping in the air. They were the same size… no, wait! Ethan was smaller, shrinking right in front of his eyes.

Josh hit the floor, scrambling back to his feet, putting his hand out to catch the little figure. Ethan hit his palms with a tiny huff of air, curling right into his palms.

He cradled the newly tiny Ethan in his hands, gently curling his fingers around him protectively.

              “I’ve got you, Ethan.” Josh said, smiling down. Ethan turned to him, a smile stretched across his miniature face. Josh felt a familiar crushing warmth in his chest. A craving that he thought he’d moved past.

His breath caught.

              “You always know what I want.” Ethan said, turning over, pressing his stomach into Josh’s palm. He stretched out his tiny fingers, brushing them against the ridges of Josh’s palm. “I know what you want. It’s okay, I’m good at it now.”

He nuzzled his face into the wrinkles of Josh’s hand, wrapping his arms around his pointer finger.

              “I trust you.”

Josh’s thumb went down instinctively, pressing into his back, the little spine bending and flexing under his touch.

Ethan cried out from pain, or maybe pleasure, but Josh couldn’t stop. It was like his hands didn’t belong to him anymore.

              “God - I want it! Please don’t stop – I need it!” Ethan cried, his voice breaking.

His thumb stroked again, and again, and Ethan’s breath hitched. Something gave beneath his nail. A rib? His back? He couldn’t tell.

He’s fine, Josh told himself. He always was. He likes this. He told me—

“I want it,” Ethan gasped, his voice warping with pain. “I want it! please—”

But his limbs began to twitch. His eyes rolled back. His voice broke off into a wet gurgle.
Still, Josh’s hand moved. Still, he stroked him, the pressure only increasing.

His fingers crawled over Ethan, his hair, his back, his chest, his legs.

His heartbeat roared in his ears and he could hear Ethan screaming from underneath his fingertips, but he couldn’t stop. Every pass over Ethan’s back sent a wave of pleasure through his body.

Josh let out a long moan, pressing again.

And then Ethan was gone, vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but an itch in Josh’s palms. His hands were smeared with blood, which burned in its wake no matter how hard he scratched.

The blood filed every crack, flowing between his fingers, dripping from his nails. It smelled like sawdust and motor oil.

              “No – no, come back! Ethan, I… I need you!” Josh shouted, his throat full of marbles.

He looked down at his hands again, and he saw himself, cradled in his bloody palms. His own brown eyes blinked up at him, terrified.

              “Oh – god, no, it’s okay!” He said, reaching his finger out to the tiny Josh. The little man scrambled away, screaming quietly, tears running down his face, his hands slipping on the blood that coated Josh’s palms.

              “No, please! I’m not going to hurt you!” Josh said, curling his fingers closer. The tiny Josh only sobbed openly, curling up into a ball in the center of his palm.

              “You already did!” The tiny Josh cried, the blood smearing onto his face, mixing with tears.

His palms were too hot and wet, his own body too heavy, like holding a baby bird that was still slick with blood and amniotic fluid. The blood made everything slippery, but Josh didn’t dare tighten his grip.

Not again. Not after what he did.

              “I’ve got you!” He whispered, his voice shaking. “I- I’ve got you.”

But the tiny Josh only scrambled to the side of his hand, trying to run. Josh’s fingers twitched, trying to catch him, but… That was all it took.

He slipped, and he fell.

Josh reached, gasping… but it was too late. The little Josh was gone, and he was reaching for air.

Fingers curled around him, sticky with jam, warm, stronger than anything he could fight. Lily. He was yanked up into the air, held completely still in her hand, gripped like the toy he was to her.

The air ruffled through his hair, the world spinning dizzily around him.

He looked up into the gentle slope of her smiling face, sugar-sweet and lit by the afternoon sun, framed by her hair. Her eyes sparkled as her fingers curled tighter, pressing his arms into his ribs. He felt his ribs creak, and he winced through his smile, hoping they wouldn’t crack.

              “You’re my favorite, Josh!” She said, her voice echoing like thunder in the sky. “You’re so good. I love playing with you!”

It hurt to be held by her, it always did. But at least the pain was familiar. Her choosing him to play with that day meant that he mattered to her, that he mattered to anyone. She loved him, in her own twisted way.

He was hers.

His ribs ached under the unbearable pressure. Still, he leaned in, desperate for more. Her fingers were slick with blood and sugar and crayon. Her thumb brushed his cheek, so soft he almost cried.

              “We’re gonna play for so long today, okay Joshie!” Lily said, grinning wildly.

Josh let out a sob, both grateful and terrified of what was going to happen.

“But… mommy said I can’t play with broken toys.”  she said, sadly, holding him up in front of her face. He looked into her billboard-sized face, his eyes wide.

Her grip tightened in a heartbeat, and he felt his arms and legs snap like toothpicks. His ribs cracked, pushing into his organs with searing pain.

And then she let go of him, letting him slip through her sticky, slippery fingers and fall down, broken and discarded, toward the rug on her floor. He couldn’t even throw his broken limbs out to break his fall.

He fell screaming through heat and darkness, then landed in orange-scented water, thick with luxurious bubbles.

A hand scooped him out, careful fingers closing around his limbs.

It cradled him, warm and sweet. A thumb brushed down his chest, massaging lather into his skin, leaving dark swirls in its wake. Ella’s fingers, so gentle and firm, just like he remembered them.

“There you are, little one,” she murmured, and her voice was soft with joy. “My perfect, precious little thing.”

He reached for her, trembling, clinging to her finger like it was a life raft.

She lifted him to her cheek, pressing him against warm skin that smelled like powder and salt. He sobbed, crushed into the curve of her smile.

Then he was under again.

The water was colder now. Harder. The bubbles were gone.

He surfaced and started coughing up grime and grease and dirty dishwater. Chunks of food debris clung to his arms. A thick, yellow sponge dragged across his ribs, scraping through leftover soap like he was another plate to be scrubbed.

“Shhh,” Ella said, her voice still cooing. Still adoring. She held him easily in one hand, the other working the sponge in small, efficient circles. “So good. You always come so clean for me.”

The sink was full of dirty dishes. He saw them all, ceramic stained with sauce, a fork longer than he was with flecks of chewed meat stabbed through the tines. He choked on the smell, gagging as she dunked him again, dragging the sponge along his legs. It felt like sandpaper on his skin.

It burned.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her. He pressed his face to the heel of her palm. He needed her. Needed to be held, even if this is what he had to be to her.

Her fingers finally closed around him. She wasn’t crushing him, just holding him completely still in her hand.

“My perfect little thing,” she whispered, massaging his soaked hair flat with her thumb. “You’re always so good for me.”

Josh sobbed in her hand, reeking dishwater streaming down his chest. His breath hitched on a broken whisper.

“Please… please don’t let go again.” He rasped.

              “I won’t.”

It wasn’t just Ella. It was Ethan and Lacey. Lily. Ryan. It was all of them, all at once.

Lily’s bored lilt, Ethan’s frantic love, Ella’s reverent hush, they all spoke through the same mouth, in the exact same breath.

“We’ve got you, Josh. We’ve always had you.” They all said in unison.

Hands… so many hands, closed around him.

A giant thumb stroked down his spine, tracing his vertebrae. Tiny fingers pressed into his palms, some his own scale kneading his face like clay. He felt Ryan’s calloused grip tighten around his ankle, felt Lily’s fingers dig into his ribs, Ethan’s lips brushing his hair, Ella’s voice purring in his skull.

“I’ve got you.” She said with a hundred voices.

They stroked his arms like he was delicate. They clutched his chest like he was indestructible. They touched him like they were starving for him.

Ryan’s firm grip around his body, Ethan’s tongue on his neck, Lily’s fingers around his shattered shin.

He felt warm bathwater running over him. He reached for the edge of Ryan’s blue jacket, weaving his fingers through it.

A thousand fingertips traced circles down his body, caressing, restraining, smearing saliva, soap, and blood into his skin until he couldn’t tell what was pain and what was love.

Josh screamed.

He screamed until his voice burned out, until his bones burned with static, until he wasn’t sure if the hands were breaking him or holding him together.

Pleasure roared through his nerves. The overwhelming pain carved out a hollow in his chest and he welcomed it. He arched in their grasp, sobbing into fingers and skin, into lips and nails and voices and breath. He was cupped in a palm while fingers pinned him down.

Someone’s hands forced his mouth open, fingers pushing their way inside. He tasted the sweat and salt and skin as they traced his teeth and tongue.

Limbs nestled within limbs, writhing underneath his skin. Fingers caressed his ribs from the inside, nails pressing into his organs. He could feel something squirming and writhing in his stomach, climbing up his throat.

It was bliss, and terror, and the only thing that had ever made sense.

And at the center of it all, cradled like a doll and a lover and a man and an object in a hundred relentless hands—

Josh smiled.

The door creaked.

His dream dissolved.

He was in the jewelry box. Alone.

Josh sat up too fast, heart hammering, breath ragged like he’d just outrun something huge, but there were no hands now. No pressure. No warmth. No breath against his skin. Just the faint must of velvet and old perfume.

He pressed his fingers into his palms and dug his nails in as hard as he could. He tried rubbing his arms, tracing the lines he remembered. Ethan’s thumbprint on his back, Lily’s nail on his ribs, Ella’s fingertip on his cheek. Nothing came close. His skin felt cold. Empty.

He slapped his hands over his shoulders, then clawed at his chest. Nothing sank in. It was like his nerves had been hollowed out. His own touch skated too lightly. There was no presence.

Josh curled up, shivering,. He was cold, sure, but he was also completely empty.

He needed. God, he needed.

The blood-smear sensation still itched under his nails. His back still buzzed with phantom strokes. He wanted to scream, or throw up, or beg, but even his own voice felt too small and fragile and pointless.

His body ached for weight. For control. For fingers pressing him down and making him feel real again. For a body in the center of his palms to ground him.

He lay back on the velvet, grinding his shoulders into the fabric like it could anchor him. It didn’t. Nothing did. He brought his hands to his face and breathed into them, and tried to imagine they were someone else’s. That didn’t work either.

He pressed harder into himself, friction, heat, anything… but his body refused to respond. He was a handprint without the hand.

Josh sobbed once, quietly, then he lay still. Staring into the dark.

Footsteps.

He sat up and pressed his hands against the glass, watching as she came closer. She was looking at him.

His heart raced.

Her hand reached up, but she didn’t open the box. Just tapped a long nail on the lid, smiling gently at him, like a was a fish in a tank.

              “Have you been waiting for me, little one?” She murmured.

Josh couldn’t answer. The words piled up behind his lips, but his throat was closed, tight with barely concealed restraint. His limbs trembled uncontrollably. He didn’t want to need it. But he did, more than anything.

He swallowed and blinked the tears away.

              “P-please… just for a second.” He whispered, his voice cracked into pieces. Ella tilted her head, a pleased smile on his face.

              “What was that, precious? Do what for a second?” She said, her voice vibrating the walls of his prison.

Josh’s walls broke.

              “I’ll behave. I swear. Just don’t leave me like this! Just… please hold me. I need it. I can’t – I can’t take this anymore!” His voice shook, the tears fell from his eyes, his tiny hands splayed desperately against the glass.

He hated the words even as he said them. It made him nauseous how true they felt and how easily they came.

Ella let out a gentle coo and reached for the lid. Josh’s heart raced as she fumbled with the clasp, the indulgent smile on her face never wavering.

It felt like hours as she reverently opened the box, letting the cool air from the bedroom pour in, her hand appearing above him. Josh couldn’t help the way he trembled, the way he was reaching for her before she even made contact, the way his face flushed.

Her fingertip touched his shoulder, and he gasped.

It felt like every nerve was set alight. His eyes rolled back involuntarily, and his jaw went slack. Her fingers wrapped around him, gently propping his splinted leg with her little finger.

Her palm formed a cradle underneath him and he sank into it, the heartbeat underneath him pounding out stability, the warmth surrounding him like a blanket. He curled into her fingers, pressing his face against her skin. After days alone with nothing but velvet and dust, the warm, living softness of her hand was blissful.

              “Oh, such a needy little thing.” She hummed, gently stroking his hair with her fingertip. “Just adorable.”

He let out an undignified moan, unable to resist. It felt so good. She chuckled high above him.

              “This is really where you belong, don’t you see? You’re so precious, little one.” She cooed.

Josh could only let the tears fall down his cheek. What was he doing? How had he fallen this far?

Her finger rested on his shoulder, and he let his head fall onto her fingertip. He felt the ridges of her fingerprint pressing into his cheek. Her palm pulsed with her heartbeat underneath him.

              “Shh… that’s it.” She whispered. “See how easy it is? No need to fight. You’re happy right here.”

Josh pulled his good knee up to his chest, spreading his fingers out into her palm.

              “Please don’t put me back there…” He murmured desperately. “Please.”

He’d meant the box. But… deep down, he knew that he wasn’t just begging for a more comfortable cage, he was begging for her. He wanted it, even thought he didn’t want to. He wanted her comfort and attention and touch.

              “Oh darling, why would I ever put you away, when you’re finally who you’re supposed to be?” She ran her fingertip through his hair again.

Josh closed his eyes, lips trembling.

He let her cradle him against her chest. He felt her heartbeat and her touch.

And that was enough.

Chapter Text

The box opened, bathing Ethan and Ryan in the warm light of the early winter afternoon.. Ethan froze, his instincts going haywire, his heart racing. Was it just food, or was she finally here for him?

Go still. Go limp.

Oh god, here it is. She’s going to hurt me.

She’s going to break me.

He relaxed his limbs, carefully letting out his breath, arranging his limbs to be easily picked up. It was just easier that way. Ryan fell into a defensive stance, putting his hands up. Even now, after Josh, he never learned to make things easier. He still fought, shouted, and swore. Ethan felt for him, but he’d already learned the hard way.

Her hand descended, right for Ethan, without hesitation. His heart pounded as her fingers wrapped around him. She broke Josh. These fingers broke him. Ethan let out a low, terrified whine.

                “Ethan…!” Ryan started, but Ethan didn’t pay attention.

He let himself be lifted out. It had been days already, but the sensation of being picked up at held in giant hands was still so familiar. She cradled her hands, and he fell into the cup of her palms. He scrambled to sit up, bracing his hands behind him, eyes wide so he wouldn’t miss whatever torture was coming next.

His breath came in short, panicked gasps. All he could think about was Josh’s scream, Ryan’s haunted eyes, the panic he’d experienced a million times in her hands.

He never knew what she was thinking about doing to him when she held him. No matter how much he learned about her, and how many times he looked into her massive expression, he could never predict what was coming next.

His lips trembled.

                “It’s okay, little guy. I’m going to be careful with you. I… I promise.” Lile said, softly. He looked up at her, shocked. Her eyes were wide and sincere, like soft blue moons.

He blinked, unable to hide the shaking in his arms. She reached a finger up, running it through his hair. He winced.

                “I… I’m gonna take care of you. You’re gonna be okay.” She lifted him up to her face, kissing him gently on the top of his head.

He froze, confused.

What was this? This was a new script. One he wasn’t given before the scene. His heart pounded. What if he smiled now and was punished for it later?

                “T-thank you, Lily.” He said, automatically.

Apparently, that was the right thing to say. Her eyes lit up and her face split into a wide smile. He felt something warm in his chest, his terror giving way to relief.

Oh.

She’s happy with me.

The tension in his chest cracked and leaked away, and he felt himself sink down into her palm. It was like the sun coming out after a storm. It was just like when Josh smiled, right? The smile meant he was doing something right.

He’d done it. Somehow, he’d figure out how to make Lily happy, just like he’d made Josh happy. This was good, this was what he was supposed to do.

Wait, no. This is wrong! Lily doesn’t smile for no reason. She’s not Josh. You’re… you’re still in danger.

He curled his hands into fists, pressing gently on the scars on his thumbs. The pain lanced through him, and he blinked. He wasn’t safe. He was in her hands, the same hands that wrapped him up in tape and held him upside-down and broke Josh.

She carried him gently through the house. Her hands stayed soft under him, she didn’t grip his limbs, or hold him in a fist.

She took him into the kitchen. His heart started to race again. The kitchen was the realm of nightmares. She might put him in the freezer again. And this time, he didn’t have Josh and Ryan with her to help keep him alive until she remembered him.

She stepped past the fridge, and the counter came into view. He eyed the utensil holder next to the microwave.

She loved to use the kitchen utensils to come up with different ways to pick them up. He’d had tongs pinched around his ribs, he’d been scooped into serving spoons and ladles – she’d even balanced him in the spaghetti strainer.

She liked to see how she could handle him, and she ignored all his pleas to be put back on solid ground.

But today…

Today felt different. She placed him on the table instead of the counter, next to the morning newspaper. He stumbled back as she turned around, and he steeled himself for whatever was going to happen to him next.

She bustled around the kitchen, retrieving food from the fridge, pulling out a cutting board and a little kitchen knife.

He whimpered. He knew this game.

She’d place him in the center of the plate, surrounded by her snacks like crackers, cookies, maybe fruit. She would carry the plate with him on it into the living room, and make him sit still while she ate the food from around him. He couldn’t act afraid when she pretended to mistake him for another snack or she’d hurt him.

He hated it. He hated the reminder of how small he was, and at her mercy he was. He hated being around giants when they ate. Even Josh had stressed him out, especially after his nightmare.

But she didn’t pick him up and set him on the plate this time. Instead, she placed it in front of him, an expectant smile on her face as she knelt down by the table. Her eyes were fixed on him.

                “This is for you, buddy.” She said, pushing it towards him.

His mouth watered as he took in the spread

Fruit… fresh raspberries. A few shreds of cheddar cheese. A torn corner of a slice of turkey.

It was nothing more than scraps, barely the leftovers after a kid had already eaten lunch, but to him, it looked like a feast. He hadn’t eaten real food in months. Mostly just stale chips and cookies, every once in a while a fingerful of peanut butter if she gave them a sandwich crust.

But still, there had to be a trap. Lily didn’t give him things like this, not for free. What was he going to have to do for it? What was she going to do to make this miserable, just like everything else?

He waited for his next instruction, looking up at her. She frowned, but it wasn’t the same angry frown that he saw before she punished him.

She almost looked… disappointed. She almost looked like he’d offended her somehow. He ducked his head, hating how much he felt like he was navigating a minefield. He didn’t know this game, how did she expect him to know how to play it?

                “Come on, Ethan, I made this for you. Here.” She said, and her fingers closed around the cheese shreds, thrusting one of them to his chest. He flinched away, and her bottom lip poked out in a pout. “Are… are you mad at me, too?”

Her lip trembled, her brow tightening.

                “I-is it because I hurt Josh?” She asked, and he watched tears form in her eyes. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt him. I said I was sorry.”

Ethan had never heard her apologize before, which freaked him out even more. Was that the game? Was he supposed to pretend that she’d apologized? His heart raced, and his breathing quickened. His mouth felt like it was full of marbles.

She scooped Ethan gently off the table and cradled him in her hand with exaggerated softness, like she was trying to prove her point. He let out a whimper, his green eyes glued to her. He had to stay on edge for when she shifted, for when the game went sour, for when he would inevitably break a rule and get punished.

                “You still like me, don’t you?” Lily pleaded. “You’re not mad at me?”

She held the cheese up to his mouth, her thumb pressed against his chest. His stomach twisted nervously, but he opened his mouth anyway.

He chewed, the flavor exploding on his tongue. It was salty and creamy, and tasted better than the stale bread crusts he’d gotten used to. He couldn’t even help how his body relaxed in her hand, the richness of the cheese hitting his brain like velvet.

                “See? I can be nice. I’m going to be better with you. You believe me, right?” Lily begged. She took the cheese away and pinched the turkey, holding it up to Ethan’s mouth.

“Y-yes, Lily.” He said, automatically, nodding his little head. He took a bite of the offered food and sighed. It was cold and fresh and savory, unlike the dry sweet crumbs he was used to.

                “Does it taste good, Ethan?” Lily asked, smiling desperately. Ethan chewed and swallowed, enjoying the first mouthful of meat he’d had in months. He nodded.

                “I... It’s good, Lily.” He said.

What else could he say?

Ethan’s body was relaxed, but his mind was spiraling. Again.

He was perched on Lily’s shoulder, nestled into the soft yarn of her sweater, his head resting next to her neck. He could feel her pulse underneath him, steady and slow, like she had nothing to fear.

Everything felt so familiar.

His stomach was heavy with unfamiliar fullness. He’d tried to eat everything she fed him, but his little body had limits, and he’d hit them fast. Weeks of nothing but crumbs and scraps had shrunk his stomach just like the rest of him.

He wondered how much weight he’d lost since being miniaturized. It wasn’t like he had a scale to measure, but he’d never had abs before. Now his stomach was lined with muscle, his limbs defined. It wasn’t like he got any protein. He’d never been a gym bro, but he was pretty sure he shouldn’t have looked like he did with the diet he had. But he wasn’t going to question it.

And she was giving him protein now, as much as he could stuff down. 

Lily had smiled like the sun whenever he took a bite. It felt good to make her happy for one, but he couldn’t shake the sense that danger was lurking around the corner. Any second, she would start laughing and rip the curtain away, revealing all her kindness as nothing more than a trick to lure him into a sense of security before the real game started.

The light was off as Lily curled in the armchair with a blanket. The TV painted the room in bright, shifting colors.

The Little Mermaid.

He knew this movie by heart. He could almost quote it line by line. It was a favorite of his little sibling, and it was the perfect movie to put on in the living room to keep them occupied for 90 minutes. 

A girl who got her body changed and got love in return. He shivered. 

You didn’t walk away from that kind of transformation into the sunset, unchanged. Not the way Ariel did at the end of the movie. 

He hadn’t seen a screen in weeks. He hadn’t heard music that wasn’t fading into the background of the house. He hadn't watched anyone feel anything without fearing the consequences.

He closed his eyes. Maybe if he just focused on the warmth, the fabric underneath him, the soft pressure of food in his stomach... but the sick feeling didn’t fade.

Lily sighed underneath him, and he looked up at her.

                “Josh always sang along with me. He knew all the songs. I miss him.” She said, sadly. Ethan’s breath caught.

She missed Josh.

Did that mean… she didn’t want Ethan?

Was he just the replacement? Something to hold until the real one came back? No. He didn’t want to be wanted by her. He didn’t want to be here at all.

                “I want to see him again. But… Mommy’s fixing him right now.” Her little voice was mournful, and she reached her hand up to her shoulder. Ethan climbed into her palm. It was muscle-memory for him, now. He curled in, too small to refuse.

Fixing him. His mind caught on her words.

Josh was alive. Still with Ella. Still in this house. Ethan’s lungs felt frozen.

Why hadn’t she said that sooner? What was she doing to him? What was happening to him?

Jesus, Josh was alive!

It was the first thing he’d heard about Josh in two weeks, and he immediately felt something crack deep inside him.

He wasn’t dead. She hadn’t thrown him away. He was somewhere, alive, being fixed!

He needed to see him, he needed to know what was happening!

But he couldn’t do anything. Not here. Not in Lily’s hand, not in the bottom of the toybox.

He was a toy. And nobody cared about what he wanted.

Lily had broken Josh. But here he was, curling into her hand like a favorite pet, soaking up her guilt-laden affection.

What if they never gave Josh back? What if he was broken beyond repair?

What if—

What if they threw him away because he couldn’t be repaired? What if… what if Ella decided not to give him back? What if this was it?

Were Josh and Ethan destined to be pets to different people, in the same house but never seeing each other again?

His breathing began to quicken. Her hand was too warm, too sweaty. He needed to get out – needed to get away from the relentless onslaught of color and music on the TV—

His chest began to hurt, tears building in his eyes, the panic rising to a crescendo.

Her finger came down on his back.

Firm pressure. Back and forth with pressure he missed.

Ethan’s mind slipped. It was like he’d never left Josh’s hand. It was touch like he hadn’t received in weeks, pressure that eclipsed every thought, pressing the breath out of him.

He didn’t even think she noticed. She just… wanted to pet him. Like a favorite stuffed animal or a silky blanket. Because she missed Josh. Because he was warm. Because he was quiet and still in her hand.

It was like a ton of bricks on his back, dragging his body in slow arcs over the soft creases of her palm. He pressed his tiny hands into her skin, deepening the sensation. He didn’t mean to. His body just remembered from Josh.

Lily pressed a little harder and his breath caught, his mind going quiet.

The panic dulled to static, the movie faded into muted colors and background noise. Her touch in the same rhythm he’d surrendered to a hundred times before, wiped him clean. He forgot about how she tormented him and how she’d taken Josh away and how she turned him into a toy.

His eyes closed and he let it happen.

Just like he always did.

The movie had ended, and the room was quiet. Lily had stopped with her finger in his back a while ago, but still he lay, still and quiet in her hand, as she colored something in on the table below.

Her fingers curled up, and he repositioned, settling himself further into her palm.

He was so comfortable. So warm. He dozed, in and out of sleep, keeping himself curled gently in her hand.

Every once in a while, her finger would come up to his head, gently stroking his hair. He moved into her touch, seeking out the comforting feeling. Thoughts of Josh and Ryan had faded long ago.

This was his world now, scented with chocolate milk and crayon wax.

She looked down at him, running her thumb gently over his chest. He smiled up at her, shifting gently, and she smiled widely in return.

It was like sitting in a sunbeam.

Nothing else mattered, because Ethan finally had purpose again.

He felt the shift. Something changed in her. She was walking, and moving. He knew this feeling, she was about to put him down.

He whimpered, a quiet rusty noise in his throat and twitched weakly. He tried to stay small, tried to mold himself into her palm so she’d keep holding on. So she would remember he was there, and wouldn’t want to put him down.

She brushed her lips to his head, kissing him gently in his hair, before settling him down in his bed.

                “Goodnight, Ethan. You’re my sweet little guy.” He reached up, praying that she’d change her mind. Please don’t put me away. Please don’t stop letting me exist.

But then the top was sliding over him, and he was left adrift in the cold, empty space without a heartbeat to measure time with.

He let his mind slip into limbo, that deep void where he waited in the static until he was picked up again, given purpose by someone else’s hand.

He curled into his nest by muscle memory. Hands would come again. They always came back, eventually. He just had to stay still and wait, and someone would pick him back up and define him again, and his life would matter again.

                “Ethan!” Someone was speaking. That was strange. The voice was so small – like a mosquito buzzing in his ear. Voices sounded like thunder.

He curled himself deeper into the blanket nest. He’d experienced hallucinations like this. Phantom voices that just meant to torment him, and remind him of a world that he didn’t get to have anymore. He turned away. They always left when he ignored them.

                “Ethan, what the hell happened to you?” Harsh fingers dug into his arms.

He cried out, his throat aching, at the disruption. This wasn’t fair, the hallucinations weren’t supposed to hurt! His body tried to fold tighter and vanish. He knew the rules. Don’t talk to ghosts. Don’t reach for phantoms. Only Josh was real. Only Josh ever came back.

These weren’t Josh’s hands, so they weren’t real.

Ryan shivered, releasing Ethan’s arm like it was coated with poison. His stomach was churning as he looked at Ethan’s blank, slack face.

He’d seen flashes of it when Josh had touched his back and he slipped away. He’d seen something like it when Ethan knelt so easily at Josh’s feet. But there had still been something behind his eyes. Something human

But this…?

This was annihilation. Ethan was gone, a living doll left in his place.

The boy who had screamed at him in the toybox about being a coward was gone. So was the man who had tried to explain what this size did to him, and spoken with shame and clarity about how easily he fell back into old patterns.

He tried calling his name again, but Ethan’s eyes stayed blank, his limbs completely pliant and limp, like someone had made a doll and forgotten to add a soul.

Was this what Josh had meant?

Ethan survived me. The fact that he even speaks today… It means he’s strong. Stronger than me.

Ryan had brushed past that comment. He’d taken it as a nod to hardship, not a warning label! He’d honestly kind of thought Josh was exaggerating anyway, even though he never really did. But now… now he wondered what Ethan had looked like back then, when Josh could carry him in one hand.

He imagined it against his will. Ethan, as small as a mouse in his hand, curled blank and limp, smiling vapidly, looking like an actual little doll. He kind of looked like a doll right now, blank and quiet.

It hit him like a punch to the gut. The room spun slightly. He pressed a fist to his stomach, trying not to gag.

Jesus Christ – what had happened to Ethan?

He remembered Ethan saying it felt good, being held. That it quieted everything down. But looking at him now, limp and smiling at nothing, Ryan wondered if this shit was what he was talking about. His stomach churned with nausea.

He wanted Josh.

He hated that, but it was true. Josh would know what to do. He’d understand this, wouldn’t he? But Josh wasn’t here. And Ethan only had Ryan. Ryan wasn’t ready for this! He didn’t know anything about Ethan, he didn’t know how to help him, or fix him, or how to not make this all even worse.

He wanted to reach out, but his arm was stiff.

Ryan’s stomach turned. He’d already seen Ethan try and lean into him, using him like a steady hand, and it had made his skin crawl. What if he did that again? What if he smiled when Ryan touched him too, like he couldn’t tell Ryan from Lily or Josh. The thought made his skin crawl.

Reaching out might teach him that Ryan, too, was someone he should obey, or worse, should belong to.

He didn’t want submission! He wanted Ethan back, the normal one, who talked to him and yelled at him and cared about things! He thought they’d been making progress after everything. He actually kind of thought he was having a good influence on Ethan, maybe convincing him to start rebelling with him and stop submitting to Lily.

Fuck, and now it was all slipping away, just because of something Lily did. What the hell had she done with him today that made him like this?

He clenched his fist and set his jaw.

                “Ethan! Wake up!” He shouted, slamming his hand on the bed. Ethan winced, turning his face towards Ryan, tears slipping down his freckled cheeks.

                “Josh… I know you’re not here.” He whispered, his voice raw. “Can’t you… can’t you come back?”

Ryan grimaced. He wasn’t prepared for this. He didn’t know how deep this ran – how much Ethan had been changed.

Was this what was waiting for him too, if he gave up on his humanity, and became what Lily and Josh wanted him to be? Was he going to end up like this too?

He gripped his hand into the arm of his jacket and sat down next to Ethan, not daring to reach out and touch him, but too afraid to leave him alone.

Chapter Text

Ryan couldn’t handle when Lily came for him.

Her tune had changed after she broke Josh’s leg. She didn’t torture them anymore. Instead, it was desperate affection laced with control.

She tried to feed him, cuddle him, and pet him. She was desperate to show him the love that she would have shown a hamster or something. The idea of accepting it made him burn with rage.

He fought just like he always did. He refused to eat. He squirmed in her grip. He even bit her fingers when she tried to hold him still.

All he’d received so far was an offended frown, as if he’d actually managed to hurt her feelings. She hadn’t even threatened him with the tape!

              “I don’t understand… why are you being so mean to me?” She’d asked, her eyes sparkling with tears as she clutched Ryan in her fist. She wasn’t rough enough to leave bruises this time, but his limbs were still fully restrained.

              “I’m a man! You can’t treat me like this, I don’t want it!” He spat, his face red with exertion.

              “Ryan, you’re special to me, why don’t you understand?” Lily begged plaintively. Ryan scoffed, shaking his head.

              “Special? Sure! You’re treating me like a… like a pet!” He growled, and Lily frowned, reaching up to pet his head. He thrashed wildly in her hand.

              “I… You’re my first one.” Lily pouted, carefully bringing up her other hand to shield the hand gripping him, gently stilling his limbs.

              “F-first?” He rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure Josh was the first.”

              “W-well…” Lily said, biting her lip. “Yeah. But mommy didn’t make you for me. I did it all by myself!”

Ryan’s mouth locked up.

Jesus. The way she talked about his damn miniaturization like he was some bespoke custom doll pissed him off like nothing else.

              “You didn’t make me! You just made me smaller!” He shouted, his face getting red. He tried to struggle again, but her hands were still tight around him. “I – I’m a person, you can’t do this!”

              “I just want you to like me like Josh and Ethan do.” Lily pouted, tilting her head. Ryan sneered.

              “If you want me to like you – let me go! Make me big again!”

Lily only frowned, then set him on top of her play table, turning back to the toybox. She returned with Ethan cradled gently in her hands.

He looked dazed when she set him down, looking at Ryan with gentle confusion. He didn’t say anything, though his lips parted.

              “Ethan…” Lily said, gently patting his head with her finger. “Can you tell him to be nice to me? I don’t like it when he’s mean to me.”

Ethan blinked up at Lily, his eyes still cloudy with that awful haze he got whenever she touched him. He looked like he’d forgotten how to speak, but when she stopped touching him, his eyes started focusing again. He looked at Ryan with a ruffled exasperation.

              “I’m not being mean!” Ryan said incredulously, glaring at Ethan. “I just… don’t want her to treat me like I’m some kind of pet!”

Ethan sighed softly, his eyes flicking between the giant girl who owned him and the energetic blue-eyed young man that glared at him.

              “Ryan… Come on. What do you want me to say? Please, don’t put me in the middle of this.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. Ryan scoffed, folding his arms.

              “Listen, you do what you need to do to survive, but I’m not giving in. I’m sick of this shit.” He growled at Ethan.

              “I’m… I mean you have to stop thinking of it as giving in, man… It’s just… easier that way, okay? Less painful.” Ethan murmured, glancing up at Lily. Ryan let out a furious ‘tch’ and looked away, still seething.

Lily pursed her lips, glaring down at Ryan, who only turned to face her.

              “M-mommy said there was only one way to deal with this.” She said, wiping her eyes. Her fingers closed around Ethan’s ankle. She didn’t squeeze him or lift him, she just held him there, unable to take another step.

Ethan looked up at her, eyes worried. He didn’t know this game yet.

              “Now, Ryan…” Lily said, biting her lip. “Can you tell me you’re sorry?”

A moment passed. Ryan was almost too offended to answer her.

              “What?” He shouted, voice full of indignation. “Sorry for what?”

Her finger flicked, faster than either of them could see. It hit Ethan’s stomach, and he doubled over, coughing, clutching where she’d hit him.

He groaned in pain, and Ryan stepped forward. Lily’s hand closed around his jacket, keeping him gently in place. Her eyes shone with tears again.

              “I… I’m sorry Ethan. I don’t want to hurt you. But… Mommy said this is what I had to do.” Her voice trembled as she released Ryan, who collapsed to his knees. “Ryan… you have to apologize.”

He glared up at her.

              “Fuck you! I’m not saying shit! You should apologize to Ethan!”

Another flick. Ethan swayed where he stood, still pinned by his ankle to the table as he doubled over, his free knee collapsing.

              “God… Ryan, p-please!” He shouted, his breath coming in coughs and gasps. Ryan felt cold fear crawl up and down his spine.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

She was supposed to punish him when he fought – not Ethan! Ethan never did anything wrong, that’s what pissed him off so much. He didn’t deserve any of this.

              “Stop! You’re hurting him! This isn’t –”

Another flick. Ethan gagged, saliva dripping out of his mouth as he tried to scream, but no air would come. His limbs were shaking, and he still couldn’t get his foot out of her grip.

              “P-please… Just say it…” Ethan wheezed, his voice thick and pained.

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut.

              “I- I’m sorry!” He shouted, his voice catching in his throat. Lily’s finger released Ethan, and he fully collapsed on the floor and rolled to his side, holding his stomach and curling around it.

Ryan rushed forward, reaching for Ethan, trying to help him up.

              “I-it’s okay.” Ethan whispered. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Ryan clenched his hands into fists.

This wasn’t fair.

This wasn’t right.

He hauled Ethan to his feet, keeping his eyes on Lily, who smiled at him.

              “I forgive you, Ryan. Thank you.” She said, patting him on the head with her finger. He swatted it away, and her smile faltered. “You’re still not being very nice.”

              “I- I’m not very happy right now!” He shouted up, keeping Ethan propped against him, letting him catch his breath.

Lily tilted her head, her face arranging itself into confusion.

              “I have an idea to make you feel better.” She said, her grin returning. He really didn’t like the look of it. “How about we play that you get to be big again?”

Ryan’s heart raced.

Big again.

For one impossible second, the words filled him with warmth. His breath caught. Did she mean – would she actually—

Was she going to unshrink him?

The thought slammed into his chest so hard it felt like his heart beat sideways. He straightened his back, too fast. His hands tightened around Ethan’s arm. He could almost see it - his real body back. His height. A voice loud enough to be heard. A life that was back in his own control.

If he was made big again, he wouldn’t waste a single second. He’d jump out the window if he had to, he’d get away from this awful place. He’d go find Mateo and apologize for all the times he’d yelled at him. He’d call a SWAT team to come and get the other two, but he’d never set foot in this house again.

But…  Ethan didn’t stir. No flicker of hope, no glance upward. Just silence and the same defeated slump in his shoulders.

Ryan’s stomach went cold, and the moment cracked.

No. Of course not. Lily would never let go of him, not while she could still play with him.

              “Okay – you get to pretend that you’re big, and Ethan is small! You know how to play, right?” She asked gleefully, clapping her hands.

Ethan’s shoulder sagged. He only looked resigned. Ryan shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He didn’t know how to play this game. But the look in her eyes made him nervous.

He shook his head. Lily rolled her eyes playfully, poking him in the shoulder.

              “You should be really good at this one! I want you to tell him what to do.” Ryan felt a shiver go down his spine. “It should be really easy, Ethan already knows.”

Ryan shook his head.

              “No, I’m not doing that!” He said, glancing at Ethan, who was already standing, shoulders bowed, head down. The idea of giving him orders made his stomach turn.

Lily frowned. This time she flicked Ethan in the arm. He cried out, the bruise already blooming on his pale skin. Ryan’s breathing quickened.

              “C-come on, Ryan. It’s okay.” He whispered, wincing. “I’m going to be fine. This one’s easy.”

That didn’t make Ryan feel any better.

              “F-fine.” He said, looking up at Lily, then back at Ethan. “Ethan… could you… could you take a step forward?” He said, and Lily let out a loud ‘tsk’ overhead.

              “That’s not bossy enough!” She whined, closing her fingers around Ethan’s chest. He whimpered. “You’re big Ryan, you get to be bossy when you’re big!”

He swallowed, the words just kept getting stuck in his throat.

              “Alright, soldier! Drop and give me twenty!” He said, channeling a drill-instructor. He’d been on the receiving end of that before. Lily didn’t let go of Ethan, she only pinched her fingers tighter. He let out a wheeze as she crushed the breath out of him.

              “You’re not being serious! I want you to really mean it, or Ethan gets in trouble.” She said. Ethan’s eyes were wide, completely terrified. “I don’t want to hurt him. Don’t make me do it. Tell him to sit.”  

Ryan’s hands shook.

              “Okay, okay! Jesus.” He said, steeling his jaw. “Ethan, you should s-sit down.”

Lily pursed her lips. She let go of Ethan, but kept one finger behind his back, placing her fingernail up against his delicate spine.

              “That’s not good enough.” Her voice was low and creeping towards dangerous. Ethan bit his lip and let out a low whine as her fingernail trailed his back.

Ryan closed his eyes.

              “…Ethan. Sit.”

Ethan’s legs folded underneath him, immediately. Lily’s finger receded, and she smiled down at the two of them. She clapped her hands together.

              “You do know how to play!” She said happily, reaching down a finger to pat Ryan’s head. He couldn’t fight her this time. His body was stiff with rage and disgust. “Okay, now do another one!”

Ryan grit his teeth, keeping his eyes on the floor. He couldn’t look at Ethan.

              “Come here.” He kept his voice low and strong. Ethan crawled over to him, sitting back on his knees at Ryan’s feet.

              “It’s okay.” Ethan whispered, his expression a mask of faded resignation. “It’s not that hard of a game.”

Ryan wanted to vomit.

              “Now… tell him to say that he belongs to you!” Lily said, resting her hand on the table behind Ethan. He flinched, just enough for Ryan to see.

Ryan looked up, his eyes burning. He prayed for something – anything to save him from this. But there was nothing that he could do. Nobody was coming. Nobody even knew he was here, tiny and helpless and under the control of a despot in the body of a little girl.

He looked down at Ethan, who had his green eyes turned up toward him.

              “T-tell me that you belong to me.” Ryan said, his throat felt thick, like it was coated in mold all the way down.

              “I belong to you.” Ethan said automatically. So quickly. It made Ryan stomach roll, but Ethan didn’t even look phased. He even glanced at Lily like he was making sure he was saying it right.

              “Ethan, say it like you’re happy, like when we play with Josh!” Lily said, that horrible grin on her face. Ryan’s lip curled in shock, but Ethan didn’t seem surprised.

Instead, he turned his face to Ryan, and his face melted into a soft, blissful smile, his cheeks flushing.

              “I belong to you!” Ethan said in a breathy, joyful voice. Ryan’s face went red immediately.

This was wrong. So fucking WRONG! He looked away, unable to reconcile the heavy thickness that grew in his chest to see Ethan like that.

Lily grinned down at them.

              “Ryan, say… You’re mine now. I tell you what to do.” Lily said, drumming her fingers, her voice giddy.

Ryan didn’t want to. Everything in his body fought him, his lungs clenching, his muscles stiffening.

              “You’re doing good.” Ethan whispered to him. “Come on, please. We’ll get it over with.”

Ryan looked down at him helplessly.

              “You’re mine, now. I tell you want to do.” He said quietly, his voice cracking. Lily shook her head.

              “No… Josh says it funnier. Say it louder! Like you hate Ethan!” Lily crowed, and Ryan closed his eyes, hating how much they stung.

              “Y-you’re mine now!” He shouted, unable to look Ethan in the eye. He channeled all his hatred of Lily into his voice, guilty for directing it at Ethan. “I tell you what to do!”

              “Maybe him say it back.” Lily said, her voice quiet, her smile wide. Ryan paused, his throat aching. He didn’t want to.

              “S-say it back to me.” Ryan said, something dark and cold curling deep inside him.

              “I’m yours. You tell me what to do.” Ethan said with a smile, and put his head down, bowing all the way to the floor.

Lily laughed above them, and Ryan felt something hot sting in his eyes.

              “Ethan, stand up!” Lily said, and he sprang to his feet, stepping back. Ryan let out a quiet sigh. Maybe this was over.

But of course, it wasn’t.

              “Okay, ready for the next game?” Lily said, patting Ethan gently on the head. His eyes closed under her touch. “When you’re big, you have to keep the little guys from getting away.”

Ethan’s breath hitched, and Ryan felt his fingers curl in alarm. Ethan glanced at him. He looked like he was trying to communicate something, but Ryan had no idea what. What the hell was going on?

              “You have to catch him! And you have to keep him from getting away!” She said, pushing Ethan’s stomach so that he took an awkward step back. “Go on, get him!”

Ryan’s body felt completely frozen. What did that mean? Catch him?

              “W-what do you mean? He’s not running!” Ryan shouted, his arms beginning to tremble.

Lily giggled.

              “Of course he is!” She said, pushing Ethan in the chest again. He stumbled.

God, this wasn’t fair. Ethan was shorter than he was – his muscles weak from months of disuse. He was underfed and scrawny.

              “Ryan.” Ethan hissed under his breath. “Just get it over with. She likes it more when it looks hard.”

              “I- I don’t know what she wants me to do!” He whispered back, hating how much he could hear the tension in his own voice.

              “You’re a cop, right?” Ethan murmured. “It’s a takedown. Just… pretend I’m a suspect, right? Come on!” Ryan bit the inside of his cheek and took a firm step forward, trying to rely on that training.

He reached for Ethan, placing his arms around him. Ethan was already folding in on himself, twisting his body to make it easier. Ryan grimaced.

              “That’s not hard enough!” Lily cried above him. “He’s still gonna escape, you gotta make sure he doesn’t get away!”

As if on cue, Ethan struggled weakly, not trying to get away, but trying to convince her that he was. Ryan tightened his grip, placing one leg back, the other forward, between Ethan’s feet.

              “You have to take me down.” Ethan coached, and Ryan choked.

              “W-what? No, I can’t do that.”

              “She won’t let it go until you do. That faster you do this, the faster it’ll be over.”

Ryan closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape the feeling of Ethan’s skin under his hands, the feeling of his bones shifting in his arms.

With one solid kick and twist, he took them both to the floor, taking the brunt of the collapse, Ethan on top of him. Ethan just let out a quiet grunt. He wasn’t fighting.

Ryan had done this so many times before. Never with someone trying to let him win.

Lily squealed with glee.

              “Ooh, yay! He’s gonna escape! You have to really catch him!” She ordered, and Ryan groaned softly.

              “Come on, he’s not even fighting!” He murmured softly. Ethan kicked his legs ineffectually. Ethan’s foot nudged his calf, more like a signal than a struggle. Ryan’s stomach turned. Ethan was trying to choreograph this entire stupid fight! He curled his lip. He didn’t want to perform this stupid show for Lily!

              “You’re making me want to help you, Ryan.” She said, her voice low and singsong. Ryan’s heart pounded, and Ethan flailed a little harder.

With an efficient movement, he flipped them over, pinning Ethan to the floor, one arm behind his back. He planted one knee beside him, the other foot on the floor for stability.

He could feel Ethan’s heart racing, could feel the way he trembled. He could tell Ethan had been here before. Maybe not with Ryan, but with everyone else.

              “You’re so strong! See, he can’t escape!” Lily said, placing her hand next to them. Ryan couldn’t move.

This all felt so wrong. Ethan, limp and still beneath him. Ryan, complicit in abusing him.

              “You’re doing so good, Ryan! You’re good at being big. But…” She said, reaching down. Her hands wrapped around them both. Ryan tensed, like he always did when her fingers touched him. They wormed between him and Ethan, prying the smaller man from his grip.

He tried to hold tight, but her fingers wedged themselves between them and pulled them apart like his grip wasn’t even there.

This wasn’t fucking fair!

She released Ryan back to the table, but she kept holding onto Ethan, going over to her dresser.

Her hands wrapped around a jar. Ryan’s stomach dropped. She dropped Ethan inside, and he curled himself into the bottom, putting his hands on the glass. She set the jar down next to Ryan, and he ran over, pressing himself near where Ethan was collapsed.

              “Ethan!” He breathed, but the glass was thicker than his hand was wide. Ethan looked at him, defeated.

Ryan turned around, his mouth open, but Lily had bent down, her face close to him. His heart pounded. God, he was barely taller than her nose.

              “You did a good job.” She said, smiling gently. “But you were just pretending to be big.” Her hand wrapped around him, and his feet left the floor, held aloft in her grip. She opened her hand and he scrambled to a seat in her palm, just as she held something next to him

A ruler.

              “Hmm, 4 inches…” She said, grinning sweetly down at him. “That doesn’t count as big anymore.” Her eyes crinkled, and Ryan swallowed.

She lowered him back to the table, and stood tall over him, her massive form casting a shadow that eclipsed his entire body.

              “So, let’s see what you learned.”

Ryan felt his fingers start to shake, but he curled them into fists.

              “Ryan, sit.” She said, her voice heavy, pressing into him like a ton of bricks. He looked down, but he didn’t fold. He wouldn’t.

Lily lowered herself down again, and he grit his teeth.

              “You made Ethan do it.” She said, her voice low.

              “It’s… it’s not the same!” He said, his voice coming out a choked gasp. Lily huffed.

              “He didn’t want to, but he did it ‘cause you said.” She said, a smug look on her giant face. “That’s the game of big and small. Sit.”

His brain screamed no. But his body was already folding like a traitor.

Lily smiled, and placed her hand down on the table, palm up.

              “Come here.”

He grit his teeth. Tears burned at his eyes. He glanced back at Ethan, who only slouched against the glass of the jar, facing away.

He had made Ethan do this, not ten minutes ago.

He thought he was a hero. He thought that he could always do the right thing. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Her fingers twitched.

He pushed himself to a stand, and stepped over, taking steps that felt like they were weighted with lead. He climbed into her palm, unable to look up at her.

              “Okay, now it’s time to fight!” She said, reaching for him with her other hand.

The second her finger grazed him, he was already fighting. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t make his limbs go still as she wrapped around him, squealing with glee as she teased him, poking him.

Eventually, she grew tired of playing, and wrapped her fingers around him, crushing his limbs to his body. Her grip never wavered. She only held him still, completely and utterly pinned, until his limbs were weak and sweat beaded on his forehead.

              “See, I told you! You have to keep little guys like you from running away!” She cooed, smiling down at his reddened face.

He couldn’t win. He’d never win. The game was fucking rigged!

She released him back on the table, and his limbs collapsed, like his muscles were made of Jell-O.

              “Do you remember what else you have to do?” Lily said, folding her arms, lowering herself into one of the chairs. Ryan grit his teeth.

He remembered.

              “Tell me you belong to me.” She said, and Ryan felt something knot, deep inside. No. He couldn’t say it. His throat wouldn’t open.

Her fingers wrapped around the jar with Ethan at the bottom and tapped ominously on the glass. Ethan flinched.

              “Say, it, Ryan.” Lily said.

              “I – I belong to you.” He said, staring at Ethan. Lily giggled.

              “You’re mine, now.” Lily said, and Ryan tensed at the words. “I tell you what to do. Now say it back.”

Ryan wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to rage. He couldn’t fight her. He couldn’t help Ethan. And he couldn’t say the damn words!

He glanced over at Ethan, who had him fixed with those emerald eyes, blinking slowly. His pale finger tapped against the glass. His expression was disturbingly resigned.

Ryan felt a stab in his gut. Ethan had said the words so easily, like he’d said them a million times before.

              “Just say it.” Ethan mouthed, and Ryan finally collapsed.

              “I’m… y-yours now.” His teeth were gritted and his chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. “You tell me what to do.”

The words echoed in his head, raged through his chest, and burned behind his eyes.

He’d failed.

He was the one who would never break. He was the one who’d fight until he was crushed, and would never let her win. He was the strong one!

And here he was, giving in like Ethan had. He wasn’t strong. He was weak.

Ryan couldn’t burn it off. He paced until his legs cramped, dropped for push-ups until his shoulders screamed, even slammed his fist into the wall twice. Nothing helped.

Still, the rage and shame burned in his stomach like acid – sharp and corrosive. He couldn’t settle down.

Eventually he folded, head in his hands, legs jackhammering with unchecked anxiety.

What the hell did I just do?

What the fuck was that?

‘I belong to you.’ Jesus! It came out of my mouth first. And Ethan… God, he said it back. Like it was natural. And then she… made me…

He’d told off Josh for doing exactly what he just did to Ethan. And then to turn around and say the words himself…

His stomach rolled. He couldn’t swallow around the guilt, the shame, the hideous truth of what he’d done.

Ethan was somewhere in here. Ryan couldn’t even bring himself to look at him, not after seeing the look in his eyes as he repeated Ryan’s words.

I belong to you.

              “God dammit!” Ryan shouted, squeezing his eyes closed. All he could see was Ethan’s expression, hear the way he parroted the words without shame. Something horrible curled in his gut. It wasn’t just shame, it was… he’d liked the look on Ethan’s face in that moment. Something twisted in him had enjoyed it.

God, what the fuck was wrong with him? How twisted was he?

He pressed his nails deep into his skin, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t claw out the wrongness that had wormed itself into every pore of his body.

No, it wasn’t him that was twisted, it was Lily. This was all her fault! If it wasn’t for her, all this wouldn’t be happening! He wouldn’t even have to think about betraying himself just to keep another person from being hurt.

The image of Lily’s fingernail pressed into Ethan’s spine still made him want to shiver. They were so small and weak and fragile… He hated it. Everything about it made him want to scream and curse and punch a hole in the damn wall!

Ethan stepped over, lowering himself down by Ryan’s feet, the way he did for Josh.

He shouldn’t. He knew Ryan didn’t want it, but his body moved automatically. This was what he was for, wasn’t it?

              “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. I know what it’s like… I don’t… you know, blame you.” He said softly, placing his hand on Ryan’s knee.

Ryan stiffened, every muscle in his body on edge.

              “You don’t blame me?” He said, his voice dark and dangerous. “How can you say that? How can you just… go along with that?”

              “I… You did what you had to do. That’s what we have to do. I’d rather it was you than her.” Ethan said. Ryan bristled, every nerve on his body alight with fury.

Ethan set his head on Ryan’s lap, something he used to do for Josh. This always worked when Josh was freaking out after a difficult day with Lily. This would calm him down, this would make things better.

Ryan stiffened, and Ethan paused, swallowing nervously. Ethan leaned in and tried again, but Ryan wasn’t Josh.

Ryan saw Ethan kneeling, and all he could see was that night again. Ethan curled up at Josh’s feet, eyes down, the guy petting him like a fucking therapy animal. Ryan’s stomach had turned then. He’d torn into Josh over it.

But dammit, he’d never actually said anything to Ethan about it.

The darkness in Ryan snapped. His hand flew before he could stop it, out of reflex, revulsion, and rage.

The back of his hand hit Ethan’s face with a dull thud, and Ethan sprawled backwards.

              “STOP!” Ryan shouted, his face red, adrenaline pounding through him.

              “I – I’m sorry! I—”

              “Don’t say anything! Stop it! Just… Just fucking STOP!” Regret was already curdling in him, like a bucket of cold water on his face. But the look on Ethan’s face rekindled the rage in his stomach.

Ethan was on the floor, eyes wide and confused, like he’d given Ryan a gift and watched him crush it underfoot.

              “I’m sorry! I just… I thought you needed—”

              “Stop apologizing to me!” Ryan roared, his throat raw. “I – Stop forgiving me! I hit you – I just hurt you! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ethan flinched and went still. The hurt gave way to something worse… resignation.

              “It’s… it’s okay. You were upset, you—”

              “It’s not okay!” Ryan shouted, his voice breaking like glass. “Jesus, it’s not – It’s not okay! You don’t have to be okay! Just… just leave me alone!” He stood, stalking away. He didn’t look at Ethan, still curled on the floor, a black eye blooming with the mark that Ryan had put there.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to block out the heat still simmering in his chest, the black rage curdling in his gut.

But underneath it, guilt was settling in like frostbite.

I said I’d never be like them. I was going to be better than them

I’m not a fucking hero. I’m just as bad as the others.

He’d given orders to Ethan. He’d watched him obey like he didn’t have a single problem with it. Like it was normal to be obeying the whims of a little girl!  

And Lily… She’d turned it all around on him. Forced him the say the exact same words he’d said to Ethan. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want to say them. He’d just been saying them because he’d been forced to. But that didn’t matter, did it? He’d still said them. He’d still played her awful, stupid, terrible game!

Without his principles, there was nothing left. He wasn’t standing on the moral high ground anymore. He wasn’t upholding the rules. He didn’t even know the rules of this nightmare world he’d been pulled into.

He let the tears fall, hot and angry, down his face as he collapsed in the corner. He rubbed the back of his hand, still stinging with the feeling of slamming into Ethan’s face.

Ryan and Ethan didn’t speak again for days.

Big again.

The words tormented Ryan every time he sat quietly in the toybox. When Lily was asleep or at school, or when she pulled Ethan out, he couldn’t stop spiraling about when she’d said the words ‘big again’.

His body now was small and light. He could tell when he moved it, that gravity didn’t pull on him the same. He could lift things that looked too big for him. He could jump higher, fall further without being hurt.

But he missed the pull of gravity more than anything. If he really thought about it, there were so many things that he missed about being his old size.

When he used to move, he’d displace the air. He could disturb the dust when he stepped, he left footprints. When he punched walls or a punching bag, they moved under his fist.

Now, he barely could move the fabric of the teddy bear he liked to use to get his anger out. The only thing that responded when he’d hit it had been… Ethan.

Which… God. Even thinking about it made him feel sick to his stomach. Every time he looked at the kid, he could see the bruise around his eye, standing out on his pale, freckled skin like blood on the snow.

The guilt was eating him alive, but he couldn’t gather up the courage to actually go and talk to him or apologize.

For once, he knew he was in the wrong. Ethan hadn’t been trying to make him upset, but… the way he knelt, the way he forgave… He didn’t want Ethan’s forgiveness, he wanted his fire! He wanted someone else to see how wrong all this was. He wanted to not be the only one who seemed to care that this was all fucked up.

They were men, not pets! Not fucking toys.

He missed driving. Sometimes he would close his eyes and just picture the idea of driving to the store, step by step. Getting off the couch. Picking up the keys, walking out the door. He would try and get as many details as he could.

The feeling of the metal door handle. The smell of the leather interior of his squad car. The heat that pressed in on a hot summer day.

In his mind, he’d slide the key into the ignition and turn it. The car would rumble to life, and he tried to remember all the lights that would flash across the dashboard. The radio would come on.

What songs would play? He had a CD in his car – an old Metallica album he’d bought when he went to college.

The toybox was quiet, and he could just barely hear the sound of Ethan’s soft breathing as he slept his life away.

He hummed as much as he could remember of Enter Sandman, imagining himself adjusting the volume in his car. Adjust the AC. Move the mirrors. Slide the seat.

He used to be able to change so much about his life. Now his choices were pared down to just a handful.

Did he bother with shoes today or not? Would he scream obscenities, or would he get creative with threats? Would he talk to Ethan or let the silence rot between them?

No, stop thinking about it! Focus on the car. He ran his hand over the worn steering wheel, opened the glove box to peer inside.

There were things in there. A book on maintenance he’d never read. A bunch of napkins, a plastic wrapped fork. He wished he’d bothered to appreciate any of that stuff.

They didn’t have trash or useless garbage here. Every scrap, every crumb was put to use. Josh had turned wooden scraps into carved birds and bears. Ethan saved salt and sugar he pulled off of Cheeze-its and cookies in little tubs made of tinfoil and bottlecaps. If Lily gave them a scrap of fabric or string or the corner of a napkin, Josh and Ethan figured out some way to use it for something.

Even now, Ethan wiled his days away either sleeping or pulling random bits of trash and scraps into smaller parts, sorting them into little piles. He had tinfoil, plastic, bits of thread and wood and metal that he carefully stored. Ryan didn’t know what it was for, but it wasn’t random garbage.

He missed random garbage. How did he miss random garbage?

Focus! He ran his finger around the sticky interior of the cupholder. There were some dusty coins in here. Why hadn’t he ever cleaned this? Did he think he didn’t have the time?

God, if he had his car right now, he’d polish it until it sparkled. He’d detail it until there wasn’t a single speck of dust because he didn’t realize how much it mattered.

He ran the car through all the gears. Park, Neutral, Reverse… Was it Drive then Low? Did his car have a High? Fuck… he couldn’t remember. His face got hot.

              “Don’t panic, Ryan, it’s okay. Stay calm.” Mateo was sitting in the passenger’s seat, looking up at Ryan with his soft, golden eyes. His freckles sprayed across his tan skin, his dark hair curling softly over his delicate cheekbones.

Fuck.

His dream was gone with the sudden, unbearable ache deep in his stomach. God, he missed Mateo. He missed him more than he thought was possible.

He missed him more than when Teo had gone home to Ecuador for three weeks, and Ryan hadn’t been able to get the time off. That was a million times easier, because at least he’d known that he’d see him again.

Now… who knew?

Chapter Text

Josh woke up in warm bliss, the way he always did. He could feel Ella’s heartbeat underneath him. He couldn’t believe he used to be afraid of it.

Her skin was so soft. She smelled like roses. He lounged on her chest like a cat in the sun.

He stretched out a little, testing his leg. He’d been able to remove his splint a week ago. It still ached where it had broken, and he could feel a little roughness where the bone had broken, but he could stand now. Even walk, if he needed to.

If she ever asked him to. She didn’t, though. If she wanted him somewhere, she’d just… put him there. He didn’t need to worry about things like that anymore – things like where he was and what he was doing.

Her finger came down in the rhythm he loved, trailing gently down his back. He arched slightly under the touch, a quiet moan escaping him before he could stop it. She always held on just a little bit longer when he was responsive.

              “There you are, little one.” Ella said, her voice resonating through her chest, vibrating through Josh like thunder. He relished the warmth of it. She was perfect.

The name sank into him like warm water. It had terrified him, once. Now it was his. No one else got a name like that.

When her fingertip slipped under his chin, he tilted his head up without being asked. She scratched gently, and a soft cry caught in his throat. His fingers wrapped around the edge of her nail. He curled his fingers into her skin, pressing gently.

He knew she couldn’t feel him. He was too small to reciprocate anything, but he needed to do it anyway. He needed to feel like he could do something for her, too. She needed him as much as he needed her.

She shifted underneath him, and he looked up, his heart quickening.

              “Please – don’t leave yet… I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.” He said, the words coming easily to him now.

She smiled down at him, running her finger over his head. He closed his eyes, breathing her in.

              “I know you will, my little darling. You always are for me.” Ella murmured.

They stayed there for a moment longer, Josh reveling in the feeling of her fingers on him. He still wore nothing but his shirt and underwear. He didn’t need anything else, and he didn’t want layers between them.

Now he could press his tiny body to hers, and feel her warmth bleed into him, feel her softness on his legs, his feet, his arms.

Her touch was everything.

But eventually, she placed her hand next to him, and he crawled obediently into it, nestling himself into the comfortable, familiar curve of her palm.

She took him into the master bathroom, the one that he’d started renovating a lifetime ago. He might as well have been a different person.

He could hardly even remember the morning he’d spent up here, a drywall mask on, a hammer in his hands, Ethan joking with him about water bottles of all things. They’d never finished the job. She must have called someone else in.

He smiled. That was good. It meant that instead of worrying about work and jobs and renovation, Josh could just… relax in her hand, and let her take care of him. She could own him.

She washed him gently, carefully pressing on his healed leg, watching his face for pain. When he tolerated it well, she smiled, as if she were pleased.

Josh felt something stir in his gut, piercing through the bliss. He wanted to relax into it, the way he always did, but something felt different about this one. It almost felt like she was preparing his for something. That wasn’t unusual, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

His fears were confirmed when she finished drying him, pressing him gently between layers of fluffy terrycloth, and presented him with his clothing.

His blue jeans, his Carhartt jacket, and his work boots sitting neatly on top, the socks tucked inside.

He stepped back, trembling. She pressed him gently forward.

              “Go on, darling. Get dressed.” Her voice left no room for argument.

With tears burning in his eyes, Josh pulled on the layers of clothing. They didn’t feel natural anymore, it felt like putting on a winter coat in the heat of summer.

The boots pinched and the seams in the jeans scraped against his soft skin. The jacket swallowed his shoulders like it belonged to someone larger and more alive. He pulled at the collar like it was choking him. They were thick with the scent of dust and cedar – the remnants of another man.

              “I – I don’t need all this.” He said, his eyes shimmering as he looked up at her. She reached down, slowly petting his hair. He whimpered softly, shaking his head. “W – where are we going? I don’t… I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay.”

              “It’s time, precious. You’ve healed so well for me. Lily’s going to be so excited to have her favorite treasure again.”

Josh felt his limbs go cold, ice spreading through his veins.

              “But… I’m still healing! What if she breaks me again? I… I don’t want to!”

              “She won’t, sweetness.” Ella said, tilting her head softly. “She’s learned a lesson in responsibility.”

              “No, but—”

              “No buts, little one.” She held up and finger. Josh felt something clamp down in his chest, but his desperation clawed out, and the words were out before he could stop them.

              “She can’t take care of me like you can! I… I can’t! I don’t want to!” Josh pleaded.

              “Shh, darling. Your leg is mended, now. You’re ready.” She said, brushing her finger against his shoulder. He felt himself melt into it, leaning into her.

              “No, please… I’ll be better for you, I swear. I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there!” He begged, hearing the desperate quaver in his voice.

              “You couldn’t be better for me, little thing.” Ella said with a smile. “You’ve pleased me so much.”

              “T-then keep me!” Josh begged. “What did I do wrong? I… I don’t know what I did! Just tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it! Please, give me another chance! I’ll t-try harder, I’ll be better!”

              “Oh, poor thing.” Ella ran her finger over his face, trailing her nail down his cheek. He tried to lean into it like she liked, but he was too panicked. Oh god, he couldn’t mess this up! “You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetheart. This isn’t a punishment. But… Lily’s been asking for you, and you’re ready to go home.” She murmured, her tone gentle and tolerant, like she was explaining it to a child.

              “No – I… I don’t belong to her. I’m yours!” He cried plaintively, tears falling down his cheeks. “Don’t give me away! I-I want you to keep me! I belong to you!”

Ella leaned down, brushing her lips into his hair.

              “That’s right, little one. You’ll always be mine. No matter where you are.”

She placed her hand on the counter, and Josh shook his head. He didn’t want to disobey, and he didn’t want to upset her, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t step into her hand, severing the thread between them.

Ella let out an endeared sigh, and lifted her hand, gently wrapping her fingers around Josh, lifting him off the counter.

Josh cried.

He wasn’t afraid.

He was heartbroken.

Ethan’s heart started racing when the box opened. Lily’s games had been more tolerable recently, but he lost himself so easily in them these days – found himself disappearing into her affection.

He braced himself, letting his arms go limp as he looked up –

It was Ella.

And she had something in her hands.

              “Josh!” Ethan shouted, unable to take his eyes off of Josh’s struggling form. His leg didn’t look broken, but—

              “No, please! I promise – I promise I’ll be good! Just don’t leave me here!” Josh screamed brokenly as Ella placed him on the floor. Tears streaked down his face, his features distorted with grief. He clung to her fingers as she tried to pull away.

              “Shh, you’re okay, darling. You’ll be good for Lily, now, won’t you?” Ella said gently, prying Josh off her hands, retreating quickly so he couldn’t reach for her again.

              “Please don’t!” Josh shouted, falling to his knees. Ella gave him one last smile, then shut the lid, leaving the three of them in darkness.

The only sound was Josh’s ragged sobs as he collapsed on the floor, his limbs curling around themselves in grief. Ethan approached slowly, unsure of what to do.

What happened to Josh?

He’d always been so afraid of Ella, and he refused to speak in detail about what she’d done to him when he’d first been shrunk down. And now… He’d just clung to her fingers, and begged for her not to leave him.

Ethan shivered, but he knew what to do what Josh was upset. His fingers trembling, he reached out, running his hand over Josh’s back.

              “Josh… you’re back.” He said. Despite Josh’s clear distress, Ethan couldn’t hide his relief. “I- I missed you.” Ethan knelt down next to Josh, putting Josh’s hands into his hair.

Josh pulled his hands back, crossing them over his heart. Ethan’s heart hurt.

“She – what did… what did I do wrong?” he choked out. His eyes were unfocused. “Why did she leave me?”

              “What’s… what are you talking about?” Ethan asked, and Josh gripping his own hands into his shirt so hard his knuckles went white.

              “I did everything she wanted!” He cried, his voice raw. “I… I thought she needed me!”

Ethan tried his hand on Josh’s back again, but this time Josh arched away, shaking his head.

              “Josh!” Ethan cried, his own eyes stinging with rejection.

              “D-don’t touch me!” Josh shouted, curling himself into a ball on the floor. “Bring her back! Give me back to her!” His voice was harsh and ragged, his face splotchy and red.

Ethan’s stomach turned, and he pulled back, still sitting close and watching Josh as he sobbed silently.

Ryan watched from his corner, arms clutched around his knees. Watching Josh beg for Ella sat in his stomach like stone. He wanted so much to be angry, but he couldn’t conjure any, not when Josh looked like that.

Ryan had seen Josh at a lot of emotional stages. He’d seen him compliant. He’d seen him kind and gentle. He’d seen him angry, so much that he’d pointed a knife at his face. He’d even seen Josh scream in agony when his leg had been broken. But he’d never seen Josh break down like this.

It felt wrong. He almost missed back when Josh would get pissed off and fight with him. He’d rather see his shouting and waving his knife than this… crying and begging.

But what was really bothering him wasn’t even the way Josh was crying and broken open on the floor, it was Ethan.

Ethan, who knelt there on the floor like it was the most natural thing in the world. Ethan, who reached for a man who didn’t even look at him. Who let himself be pushed away. Who kept trying to help him even when nobody asked for his help.

He’d been furious with Ethan for being a coward, and not stepping in to help when Ryan wanted him to. He’d just stand there and watch, submitting to whatever torments Lily had for them, and only try to reach out once they were alone in the toybox. That had pissed Ryan off enough to put that bruise around his eyes.

Which – Jesus. It looked awful, purple and deep around Ethan’s eye. He winced as he saw Ethan brush his hand against it, the back of Ryan’s hand burning at the thought of the moment he’d put it there.

Josh pushed Ethan away again, and Ethan only sighed, sitting on the floor, waiting for the next moment to reach out.

Ryan clenched his fist. He didn’t want to understand Ethan. He wanted to light the fire in the kid, make him understand that none of this was okay! He wanted to shake his shoulders and tell him to leave Josh alone to pout and take care of himself.

God, Ethan was pathetic.

But… no, he didn’t look pathetic this time. He looked steady. Ryan grimaced. That realization hurt more than he thought it would.

“Ethan.” It was the first time they’d spoken since the night Ryan had punched him.

Ethan looked over his shoulder, still kneeling next to Josh, broken in the eyes.

Ryan swallowed, the words sticking in his throat. He clenched his fists.

“I… I’m sorry, okay? About… umm, about your eye.” He looked away, unable to look Ethan in the eye. “I didn’t get it. And I… fuck, I still don’t.”

He hugged his arms around himself, rocking slightly.

“I can’t be you, alright? I can’t… I can’t just roll over and do whatever she wants me to do. It pisses me off to even think about it.”

He pressed his fists to his forehead, closing his eyes tight. Ethan pushed himself to his feet and stepped closer.

              “Ryan, it’s okay, I—”

“Ethan, just listen, okay?” His eyes burned. “This is fucking hard enough. I just… I can’t. I can’t take it. I can’t handle any of this! But…”

He trailed off, swallowing hard. Jesus, he was bad at this. Ethan kept his mouth shut, and waited for Ryan to start again.

“But somehow you guys handle it. I always – I want to be strong, and I hate it that you guys survive this better than me. It’s not… it’s not fucking fair. I want—” His face warmed, and Ryan clenched his teeth. “You just… let her do whatever and then you come back and… help each other. I just… I don’t get how you don’t hold that against each other.”

Ethan blinked, surprised. His eye throbbed – he hadn’t been expecting this. Any of this. Especially not from Ryan.

              “Ryan… it’s not like we don’t want to help each other.” Ethan said, his voice placating and soft. “It’s just… I mean, come on. There’s no point in fighting her, and you know that. We just – we wait until it actually matters.”

Ryan scoffed, but he wasn’t able to conjure up any real scorn.

“That’s... I hate it, but…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Whatever. I’m… I’m trying to apologize for hurting you. That wasn’t fair, okay? You were just trying to help, even if it was too late.”

A long silence stretched.

“I…” Ethan started, but Ryan put up his hand to stop him, his chest aching.

“I know, it’s not… it wasn’t too late. What were you supposed to do, right?” He smiled wryly. “She would have just taped you up.”

Ethan nodded, his lips twisted.

              “Right. I’m sorry.” Ryan said one more time. “It’s just… if I don’t fight, then I don’t know who the hell I am, anymore. And when I do fight…” He cleared his throat, his eyes closed. “She just… she just takes it away anyway. Maybe there’s something to you. Something… you know… strong. Or fucking whatever.”

Ryan turned away, his face flushed, to go flop down in his handmade cotton nest.

Ethan looked at him. Then at Josh, curled tight around himself like he could shrink himself out of existence.

He knew that posture more than he should have. It was bone-deep emptiness, the kind that made the entire world unbearable. It was the one he’d lived in when he’d been in Josh’s palm, his heartbeat defining his entire life. He might as well have not even existed, except Josh needed him, because Josh was the one who mattered.

And now Josh was just… giving up.

You were supposed to be strong. You can’t disappear like this!

The ache split him in two. One half wanted to crawl back into Josh’s palm, under his thumb, and feel safe and empty again. The other half wanted to scream at Josh, shake him by the shoulders and shout what are you doing? You can’t abandon me! Don’t leave me here alone!

But hadn’t he disappeared, too? When Ethan was small, he’d given up and let Josh be the strong one alone. He’d just been trying to survive, but… so had Josh.

He clenched his jaw, guilt suddenly tearing through his chest. Ryan had just said that there was something strong about him, but it didn’t feel that way.

Bowing down at Josh’s feet, laying his head in Ryan’s lap, that wasn’t strong, was it? It was just survival.

But maybe he was tired of just… surviving.

He picked at the scabs on his thumbs, closing his eyes as the skin stung underneath his nails. Memories flooded into his mind unbidden. Microwaving a plate of chicken nuggets for his little brother after school because there was nobody else. Googling what a fever was after his baby sister wouldn’t stop crying. Standing between his siblings and their mother’s anger.

Nobody had ever called that strong. Most people just called him stupid, or pathetic, or a glutton for punishment. He’d never even tried to stand up to his mother’s boyfriends. He’d just let them prove whatever they were trying to prove, and then Ethan would grab an ice pack and pick up the pieces before his siblings could see.

Ryan fought like everything mattered. He struggled and screamed and scratched like he could change anything.

That was real strength.

Or like when Josh was able to go still and still speak his lines, even when his mouth was full of blood and when his mind was elsewhere. Every time Josh willingly volunteered to be the one for the hardest games, that was strong.

Ethan felt like his chest was cracking into pieces.

He thought of when he’d gone to his little sister Reece’s soccer game because his mom was over at her boyfriend’s house. He’d cheered and shouted until his throat went sore. Reece had flushed when she heard him, but he didn’t miss the little smile on her face.

He’d showed up.

That was strength too, wasn’t it?

He curled his hands into fists to keep them steady. Josh wasn’t going to curl his fingers around Ethan and make everything go away. He couldn’t count on Ryan to pull his shit together.

It was all up to Ethan, to step up and do what he always did. He needed to be strong, in his own way now.

              “Ryan, come help me get him to the bed.” Ethan said, his voice steady. His voice was strained, like he wasn’t used to using his vocal chords.  

Ryan looked up at him, surprised. His face was still red, and his mouth was open as if he was going to argue –

And then he stood, walking over.

              “Sure.” He mumbled, grabbing Josh by the bicep. He hauled him up, propping him under his shoulder. Ethan maneuvered himself under Josh’s other arm, patting him on the chest.

              “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.” Ethan said, guiding his friend to the bed. Josh whimpered, his cheeks covered with tears, but didn’t resist as the two of them laid him in the blanket nest. Ryan stepped back, but Ethan sat down, grabbing Josh’s hand.

He wasn’t going to kneel and let himself disappear while Josh took whatever he wanted from him. He wasn’t going to submit. He was just… going to be here.

              “I’ve got you.” Ethan said, his voice strong. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Josh’s hand curled around Ethan’s, and he lay his head on Ethan’s shoulder.

              “I don’t… I can’t.” Josh whispered. “I can’t do this anymore.”

              “I know.” Ethan said, running his hand over Josh’s head, feeling his soft hair under his fingers. He smelled like oranges. “You don’t have to. I got you.”

Ethan watched Ryan go and flop himself down in his handmade little nest, his back to the both of them. He felt bad, but… he couldn’t spare any thought for Ryan right now. Ryan never wanted to step up and help when it came down to it, but… that was okay.

Ethan could do it. Ethan could step up.

              “I’m here.” He whispered.

And he was.

Chapter Text

Ryan put up with Lily’s affection the next day as much as he could. It still grated on him. It felt like sandpaper on his nerves when she kissed him or tried to pet him like he was some kind of mouse or something.

He lay still in her hand. What the hell was he gaining by fighting? No. He’d finally managed to learn that lesson. At least when Lily was actively playing with him, there was no point in fighting and shouting. She was clearly never going to fucking listen to him.

So inside… he schemed.

He measured the distance from the table to the floor in his head. He eyed the room for footholds and things he might be able to use. A paperclip or a nail file, maybe a wooden sliver if it was big enough. Anything could work, he just had to by creative. He couldn’t count on Josh or Ethan for help, especially not right now. Josh was still recovering, and Ethan was stupidly dedicated to helping him get through it.

                “You’re being so good, Ry-ry.” Lily said, giggling as she playfully pinched his arms between her fingers.

Ryan grimaced, but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t parrot lines like Josh did. He couldn’t go still and smile like Ethan. But at least he could keep his damn mouth shut, and least for now.

Think of Mateo, he ordered himself as Lily dug her finger into his ribs.

                “You’re so quiet today! It’s okay, I guess. But you should say thank you once in a while. I’ve been being so nice to you!” Ryan grit his teeth.

                “T-thanks.” He grumbled. Lily squealed with joy, stroking his head with her fingertip, wrenching his neck painfuly.

God, he hated this!

Her hand wrapped around him, thumb to his chest, the rest of her fingers behind, his limbs pinned firmly to his side. She picked him up and set him on her pillow.

He stumbled where she placed him, unable to get his feet under him. He fell, his knees buckling in the soft downy plush of it.

                “It’s comfy, right?” Lily asked, grinning.

Ryan cringed. It wasn’t comfortable so much as oppressive. He tried to stand again, but his body couldn’t orient itself, and he tumbled onto his back.

                “I figured I’d give you a comfy bed for a nap, okay? I have to go to soccer practice, so you stay here.” Lily said, pointing at him. Ryan pushed himself to his hands and knees, looking up at her.

                “Wait, what? You’re leaving me here?” He asked, his vow of silence forgotten. Lily nodded, smiling.

                “Yup! You’ve been a good boy. I figured you can have a treat.”

She turned and left the room, leaving Ryan with his heart pounding. He was getting left, outside the box. For at least an hour! Holy shit, he couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass!

As soon as the door closed, he was up, fighting the soft pile of the pillow to get himself down. At first, he tried to take a few steps, but the pillow refused to support his weight and sent him falling.

He took one step too far, and he collapsed, rolling down the side and hitting the sheets so hard it knocked the wind out of him. Walking on the bed was like trying to walk through syrup. It was so soft, his ankles refused to stay straight. The blankets felt like they were pulling at his feet, but he made it to the side.

And felt his heart sink. He had no way to get down! The blankets were tucked in to the mattress, nice and tight. Even if he could climb down the blanket, he wouldn’t survive that drop to the floor, it would be something like jumping off a three-story building.

He fell to his knees, bouncing in the softness of the bed. Dammit, he was so close! Halfway there.

He spent the next half hour fighting the bed, checking everywhere he could walk for an escape route… and found nothing.

She’d taken care of everything. The blankets were tucked, the sheets were slippery.

He wanted to cry as he finally settled himself down in the center of the bed, laying on his back, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

He lay there, dozing, until she came back for him. His stupid tiny body kept making him want to nap all the time. He tried to fight the sleep, but his eyes closed anyway.

She scooped him up, oohing and aahing over the way he’d curled up into the blanket like he was a pet hamster. He pretended to still be asleep as she carried him to the toybox, setting him gently in Josh and Ethan’s bed before closing the top of the box.

                “Dammit…” He whispered, his throat thick with frustration. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

He leapt out of the bed, flopping down into his own handmade nest. Ethan looked over at him.

                “You okay?” He asked, but he didn’t step over. Ryan dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

                “Fucking dammit!” He shouted, startling all three of them. “She… she put me on the bed, alone! I was this close. This close to the goddamn floor!” He said, pinching his fingers together. He shook with frustration. “She left me free and I’m stilll stuck!”

Josh and Ethan shared a glance.

                “Josh… I think we should tell him” Ethan said quietly. Josh sighed. “Come on, he deserves to know.”

                “Deserve to know what?” Ryan snapped, sitting up, his face tense. Josh shook his head.

                “He’s just gonna be even more insufferable.” Josh said, shrugging his shoulders. “And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

                “What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan demanded. Josh looked over at him, narrowing his eyes. Ethan put his hand on Josh’s shoulder.

                “Come on, look at him!” Ethan murmured.

                “Guys! What the hell is going on?” Ryan shouted. “Tell me!” Josh shook his head.

                “No. He… come on, Ethan, it’s our thing.” Josh said quietly. Ethan pressed his lips together, but fixed Josh with a stare.

                “It’s… you wanna be out on the floor so bad… well, Josh and I might have a way to get there.” Ethan said, trying to keep his voice steady. He should have expected the response he got from Ryan. He flew out of his nest and stalked over to them, his face red.

                “What?!” He shouted. “You have a way out of this fucking hellhole and you didn’t tell me?” Ryan said, blue eyes wide.

                “Fuck off, Learman.” Josh said, rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

                “It does fucking matter!” Ryan tried to relax, but every nerve in his body was buzzing. A way out. A way onto the floor. An escape route! “Just because you don’t think so doesn’t me that I can’t! Come on, Josh! This is hope, don’t you get it? Come on, after everything you went through with Ella—”

                “Don’t you fucking dare.” Josh said dangerously. He shot Ryan a glare, and Ryan pressed his lips together. “You have no idea what I went through.”

                “Josh…” Ethan said gently, putting his hand gently on Josh’s arm. Josh turned away from Ryan, taking a deep breath.

                “F-fine. But guys… come on! What’s the play, here? You guys… don’t tell me you want to stay here?”

                “Ryan… of course we don’t want to stay, but—” Ethan started. Ryan rolled his eyes and scoffed furiously.

                “God! It’s always a ‘but’ with you guys!” Ryan snapped. “Why are you guys so afraid of even trying to escape? Do you just love it here so much? I’d fucking believe it at this point! I heard you when Ella put you back in—”

                “Dude, I will fucking lay you out.” Josh said, his fists clenching tight. Ryan bit his tongue. It took everything in him not to rise to the challenge.

                “Why won’t you guys listen?” Ryan begged. “Why won’t you at least try? I’m not asking for you guys to fucking… scream at her or fight her or anything, I’m just asking for you guys to try!”

                “Jesus Christ. They must have loved you in community theater.” Josh said acidly. Ryan’s face went red.

                “Fuck you, is that a gay joke?” Ryan spat. Josh rolled his eyes.

                “Oh my god, you’re fucking unbelievable!” Josh snapped. “You’re such a fucking cop! Do you ever get off your high-horse? I don’t give a shit what you are, but I’m sick of your goddamn delusions!” Josh said, his voice rising. “Do you think we haven’t already tried? What do you fucking think happened before you got here? Just… sitting around and giving up?”

                “I… I mean… what if you—”

                “Ethan was a quarter-inch tall.” Josh said through clenched teeth. “What should I have done? Even if I escaped with him, I’m four fucking inches tall! Can you even think about how vulnerable he was? I know you struggle with thinking about anyone but yourself, but can you even think about living like that?”

Ethan looked away, his face red. Josh glanced at him and closed his eyes. He took a steadying breath.

                “How was I supposed to keep him safe out there? I can’t even keep myself safe.” Josh said brokenly. “What was I supposed to do? Lily fucked me up every day.”

Ryan gritted his teeth, then squared his shoulders, facing down Josh.

                “Josh. Let’s arm wrestle for it.” Ryan said, folding his arms.

                “What?” Josh scoffed.

                “Let’s arm wrestle! We’ll settle this like men, okay? If I win, you show me the way out. If I lose, I’ll shut up and stay the fuck out of your way.” Ryan said, cocking his chin. Josh tilted his head, letting out a sigh.

                “Arm wrestling. Huh.” He said, shaking his head. Ryan huffed.

                “What, are you scared I’m gonna beat you?” Ryan challenged. Josh scoffed.

                “No, I’m not fucking scared I’m gonna lose.” Josh said, standing up at his full height. He looked down at Ryan, crossing his arms over his chest. He was taller and broader than Ryan, and he was pretty sure his job had given him more muscle than Ryan’s had. They’d been in the house now for months, so Ryan had probably finaly lost the edge he’d had from living a normal human life. “You know what, fine.” Josh said, shaking his head.

Ryan grinned and stepped over to the building block they used as a table. He pulled over one of the dice that he could use as a chair and plopped his left elbow on the table.

                “Hold on, what?” Josh said, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t say anything about using our off hand.”

                “Never said anything about hands at all. And who’s saying this is my off hand?” Ryan said cockily. Josh huffed.

                “That’s low, Ryan.” Josh said, but sat down at put his left elbow down.

                “You’re left-handed, Ryan?” Ethan asked. Ryan nodded, shrugging.

                “Yeah. Why?”

                “I don’t know, you just… don’t give off left-handed energy.” Ethan said, stroking his chin. Ryan scoffed.

                “What the hell is left-handed energy?” Ryan sneered. Ethan shrugged.

                “I don’t know! It’s just like… some people seem like lefties. And some people don’t. Like… I don’t think anyone is surprised to learn that Josh is right-handed, right?” Ethan said. Josh nodded.

                “I actually thought you were left-handed, Ethan.” Josh said, his mouth quirking up at the corner. “When I first met you. You just kind of gave me that vibe. It was kinda weird when I learned that you weren’t.”

                “So that’s… left-handed energy?” Ryan asked, one eyebrow up. “You’re like Ethan?”

                “Oh my god, I should’ve known you weren’t going to get it.” Ethan said with an eye roll.

                “I think you’re just stalling.” Ryan said, his left hand up in challenge. “Cuz you think Josh is going to lose.”

                “I’m not going to lose!” Josh snapped, grabbing his hand with his own. “Jesus, you’re such a dick.”

Josh gripped Ryan’s hand, hard. Ryan pressed back, fixing him with his blue-eyed glare.

                “Ready?” Ryan said. Josh nodded. “Go!”

Josh flexed his arm, pressing into Ryan’s hand as hard as he could. Josh had gotten used to winning most arm-wrestling contests since he hit his growth spurt in eighth grade, shooting up to 6 feet tall, his muscles developing faster than his peers. Working in construction had only made him stronger.

He’d been able to pick up Lacey in a bridal carry with no problem. He probably could have carried Ethan the same way.

But Ryan was putting up a surprising challenge. Josh’s face went red as he kept pushing. Ryan let out a grunt. Their arms were still locked in the middle. Sweat built up between their palms. Josh held his breath, trying to press even harder, but Ryan met him.

                “H-holy shit…” Josh said through a strained breath.

                “Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you even try in one of these.” Ethan said. Josh gritted his teeth.

Fuck, he really didn’t want to lose in front of Ethan, but… his left arm truly wasn’t as strong as his right. He hadn’t gotten a lot of protein in recent months, and it wasn’t like he had access to a gym here!

                “Fffuck…” Ryan groaned. “You’re strong.”

Josh didn’t reply. He could feel sweat break out on his forehead. He gasped in a short breath. In that momentary lapse, Ryan pressed even harder. Josh’s hand slammed into the table, and Ryan let out an exhausted whoop.

                “Hell yeah!” He shouted, pumping his fist. He stood up, pacing in a circle. “Fuck yes, you have to tell me now!”

Ethan patted Josh on the back. He put his head in his hands.

                “Jesus Christ.” He mumbled.

                “Hey, hey! Don’t be a sore loser.” Ryan said, pointing his finger. “I won, okay?”

                “Yeah, we know.” Josh snapped. Ethan rubbed his shoulder.

                “Easy, big guy.” Ethan smirked. “I still think you’re strong.”

                “Fuck…” Josh groaned.

He pushed himself to a stand and shook his hand out with a heavy sigh. He walked over the side of the toybox, the side facing the way. He pulled his pocketknife out of his pocket and flipped it open.

                “Come on, Learman.” Josh said, rolling his eyes. He pounded in a few different places, dust falling off. Ryan stepped closer, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Josh nodded, then pressed his knife into a slit that only he could see. He pressed into the knife and something cracked. “I needed something to do back when Ethan was tiny. I… listen, okay? I know how you feel. I wanted to think that I was doing something. Escaping or whatever.”

                “Holy shit…” Ryan murmured, as Josh threw his shoulder into the side. Before his eyes, a panel split, falling outward with a crash.

Josh stepped back, brushing the dust and splinters off his jacket, and motioned to the portal to the outside.

                “Well… There you go. Go fucking nuts, I guess.” He stepped back.

Ryan had stopped listening. He could feel the cool air from the outside of the toybox, he was so close he could almost taste it! The world was unfolding around him, and hope blossomed warm and heavy in his chest.

He tasted the fresh air, closing his eyes. There were only a few inches between the box and the wall, and he stepped through the narrow passage until…

He was out. On the floor.

In Lily’s room.

He laughed, his voice echoing strangely in the huge, cavernous room. He was out, holy shit, he was free! He could go anywhere, he could run… and he could win.

His breath left him in a relieved gasp, and he put his hand on his chest. He’d never thought he’d think of a little girl’s room as beautiful. But the sight put tears in his eyes.

He took a few steps into the center of the room.

Everything towered over him. The bedposts shot up like skyscrapers, the walls stretching so high the ceiling was a blur. He stepped under the bed, marveling at the way he didn’t even have to duck his head to be under the furniture. His eyes lit up when he found an abandoned blue paperclip. He wasn’t sure what he was gonna do with it, but… it was better than not having anything. It was just potential, right?

He picked it up, briefly surprised at the weight to it, and tried to bend the wire. He strained, his hands slipping, but it was like trying to wrestle a crowbar. He just… didn’t have the strength anymore.

He dropped it back on the floor with a thud. It was probably because of his arm wrestling match with Josh.

A dust bunny the size of a soccer ball clung to his leg, and he paused, trying to shake it off. It stuck to him, and when he put his hand down to brush it away, it was sticky and gritty. He gagged, but shook the thing off and stepped away.

Further in, he found an old blue M&M that was stuck to the floor. The thing was the size of a boulder, and he’d have no way to crack the candy shell and eat it. He shivered, and thought of the crackers and cookies and pretzels he was forced to live on now. Everything was so damn big now.

He moved back out into the open, walking through the flowery rug on the floor. The fibers stuck up past his ankles. It was like trying to wade through tall grass. Then he smelled the sour, filthy smell of carpet and he grimaced. Fucking gross. Didn’t Ella ever vacuum this thing?

The play table stood in front of him, and he walked up to one of the legs, wanting to see if his could climb it. His heart sank. The wood grooves weren’t big enough for him. His fingers were just too big to fit inside.

He turned away, heading to the far wall. The unevenness in the wooden planks of the floor kept tripping him, and he was glad to reach the wall. The air vent in the wall blew air over him, just enough to push him slightly off-balance. He shivered. If this thing kicked on, it would blow him over.

The air itself started to settle around his shoulders like a heavy blanket. It felt thick and wrong somehow. Every time he breathed he got too-big motes of dust in his mouth. The wide open space in front of him started to feel hostile, like it was taunting him.

Still, he grit his teeth and set off for the door.

He had to walk through those damn rug fibers again, toddling and wavering like a child before he reached the door.

Light shone from under the crack – the hallway light. He could hear the sounds of the family having dinner downstairs, laughter and the clink of forks on plates. He lowered himself down, ready to squeeze himself under—

No. No, no no! He was just a little bit too big!

The space was just barely enough for his arm – even if he lay on the floor and flattened himself as much as he could, he’d never be able to wriggle himself through.

He let out a choked sound of frustration. How was it freakin’ possible that he’d need to be smaller to get free? Even Ethan couldn’t squirm through this stupid crack under the door. Not unless he was as small as he said he’d been. Ryan shivered. Nope, he didn’t want to think about that or even think it into existence.

He still had to try! He’d gotten this far, right? He just had to keep trying, try and little harder, figure something out. He wedged his arm under the door, and stretched so hard his head began to ache, and touched the air on the other side with his finger before his circulation demanded he pull his arm back.

It was cool, fresh, basically taunting him!

                “Dammit… why?” He cried, closing his eyes.

He was so close! Every time, he was so close.

Jesus, it wasn’t fair!

He turned from the door, looking at the room again. It wasn’t a wide open space. He hadn’t escaped. He was just in a bigger cage with more room to run. His throat felt tight, and the frustration gripped him so hard he wanted to scream and cry. His eyes stung with tears, and he scrubbed them away as hard as he could.

Fuck no. Just because he hadn’t gotten out on the first try didn’t mean it was also pointless. All he had to do was keep figuring it out. This was still a victory.

Josh and Ethan were there when he finally returned to the toybox.

The air felt different in there. It was his size. It belonged to him. It sat bitterly in his lungs. Ethan tried first.

                “Any luck?”

Ryan didn’t answer right away. He shook his head, his eyes on the floor.

                “No. But I know what’s out there. And I’m not done yet.”

He looked up at the two of them, Ethan looking at him with pity in his eyes, and Josh looking down imperiously with folded arms.

                “I’m not staying in this cage forever.” Ryan said, with as much intensity as he could muster. “I… okay, so it won’t be as easy as I thought, but I’m not giving up.”