Chapter Text
Fuck was it cold. Louis was shivering, trying his best to gather some warmth from the flimsy jacket he’d nicked off a drunk bloke a few hours back. It was the middle of winter in Doncaster, and although it wasn’t freezing, the rain was pelting down hard and unforgiving.
Huddled up in a corner in a back alley somewhere, Louis tried to keep his teeth from chattering. It had only been a couple of days since he’d come back from Uni, home-sick and stressed, a massive debt on his name to top it off. What he needed was his mum, but she had passed away years ago. Mark ran the family now, and he didn’t want Louis there. It was said without remorse, one-on-one, his sisters nowhere to be seen. Mark didn’t want him back, wouldn’t try to help him figure out a way to pay off his debt, wouldn’t take him in. Louis quickly understood the only reason Mark had ever tolerated him back then was because his mum had ordered him to. She was gone now though, no longer able to fight his battles for him.
Louis had always been a mummy’s boy; he missed her terribly. The thought of staying at his childhood home in Doncaster was something he couldn’t bear, which was why he went off to Uni. That’s where he went off the rails; getting in to pub fights and drinking too much beer, lending money from so called friends and even trying his hand at harder addictive substances. It had taken all he had to pull away and sneak onto buses and trains without paying, making it to Doncaster in under a few days.
Now here he was; cold, tired, underfed and dehydrated, rain coming down on him, making his head sting. The thought of getting beaten up sounded more appealing and if he had the strength, he would’ve laughed at that thought.
Keeping himself as small as possible, he didn’t notice the man looking at him from just a few feet away. The man stood there, staring, hands deep in the pockets of his raincoat, head tilted as he considered Louis. After a few moments, the man took out a phone and tapped on the screen, before typing something. The phone was soon put back in the pocket and the man looked at Louis once again, the young lad still a shivering mess. Turning on his heel, the man walked away silently, Louis none the wiser.
~*~
A week. A week he’d been here, and things hadn’t gotten better. He’d managed to nick some food and water from the garbage bins at the local McDonalds, but it was cold and disgusting, the half-filled bottles of water nearly frozen from the cold weather. One of the employees, a kind boy with an Irish accent, had seen him yesterday and offered something warm. Louis hated the look of pity he’d gotten, but couldn’t say no to a warm Big Mac. The burger was eaten, or shall we say devoured, within minutes.
Louis hadn’t noticed a figure following him, tracking his every move. Hadn’t even noticed that the figure had kept him safe one night when a man with bad intentions walked into ‘Louis’” alley. The young boy had been huddled up as usual and when the figure had noticed an older man trying to sneak up to the young boy, he was quickly stabbed in the neck with a tranquilizer and carried off to another alley, only to wake up cold and disorientated the next morning, with no memory of the night before.
This particular night was the coldest one yet. The boy who worked at McDonalds, ‘Name’s Niall, I’ll have somethin’ warm for ya every day if ya come by!’ had given him a warm winter jacket. Louis hadn’t been too stupid as to say no, so he tried to bury himself in the faux-fur lining before getting in a semi-comfortable position to fall asleep. Who said bricks weren’t comfortable?
Looking at his fingers, only illuminated by the lamp-post at the beginning of the alley, he noticed they were quite dark. That couldn’t be good. He hadn’t felt his feet in days; didn’t dare to take off his Toms and look, afraid he wouldn’t be able to get back into them if he took them off.
Huddled up next to a garbage bin, he closed his eyes, trying to stop tears from falling. This was the lowest he’d ever felt, depressed, hopeless, scared and angry. Fear was the most prominent feeling, filling him up from head to toe. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get a job, not with the way he was looking and feeling, too weak to even walk or stand. He should’ve immediately done something after Mark had cut him off, but he’d been too distressed and frazzled to think about that at that moment.
“Louis?”
God he was so pathetic. Maybe, if he could sleep, he could dream about his mum. Her cuddles, her laughter, the way she made his crumpets. How every Sunday she’d make a Full English with extra scrambled eggs and sausage just for Louis.
“Louis can you wake up for me?”
Feeling his eyes get heavy, he thought about what it would feel like to have a warm bath with bubbles. Maybe even some toys, though he was too old to be playing with them.
“He’s out.”
“Do you still want to tranquilize him, Sir?”
“Yes, might be best.”
He couldn’t feel his body anymore, numb from the cold. He was too tired to open his eyes, even as something touched his neck. It was just a little sting, but the warmth that flooded from his neck to the rest of his body felt good. His limbs had already been heavy, his body succumbing to the hypothermia, but now they wouldn’t even move if he tried. Giving in to the darkness and the promise of having breakfast with his mum, Louis floated away.
~*~
“In the car, Zayn?”
Zayn nodded as he watched his husband, Liam, pick the boy up. Louis was as limp as a ragdoll, his blue hands dangling down as Liam hoisted him up. Both men quickly walked to the parked car, Liam getting in the back with Louis on his lap. The drive to the nearest facility was only half an hour, so they expected to be on time. They knew they were coming, appointment set about a week ago. One of Liam’s friends, Niall, had been keeping tabs on Louis as well, so the boy had been fully monitored for a week. Louis fit all the descriptions and would make a perfect born-again baby for any one of their clients, although Zayn and Liam already knew who they were going to gift Louis to.
They’d been doing this for several years; keeping tabs on homeless youth or teens with a troubled background (though mostly it was a combination of the two), making sure they’d fit the bill to be re-born and then take them in. The facility took care of the physical aspect, de-aging them. They didn’t know the exact way it was done or even if it hurt; though the babies and/or toddlers never complained about pain during transitioning. Usually it took around two to three days for the body to get to its tiny size, but the Littles were kept asleep during most of it.
The process in itself was fascinating; body hair fell out, usually only leaving a light fuzz or a few locks of hair left on the head, baby-fat returned to cheeks and arms and legs, tummies and bottoms. There was no way to tell a ‘normal’ baby from one that was a Little, which was the whole point. The only thing that was different was the memories; Littles would know of their life before turning, which sometimes resulted in sad Littles, already knowing things such as grief or how unfair the world could be. There was no innocence of youth, but there was a chance to grow up again, make different choices, getting on the right path. Parents of Littles were nothing like the parents the Little’s had in their old life, which also made all the difference. They were loved, cuddled, hugged, encouraged and safe.
Driving through the open gates of the facility, Zayn looked in his rear-view mirror.
“How’s he doing?”
Liam sighed, pulling Louis closer. “Warming up. But he need to get inside quick.”
Zayn nodded and parked the car, opening the door for Liam moments after. Louis was carried inside, where a member of the facility had a gurney ready. Liam and Zayn were allowed to go in for the first examination, needing to provide a bit of background about the client they’d brought in.
Once in the examination room, one of their main doctors walked in. Zayn and Liam knew him well.
“Who do we have here?”
Liam grabbed the manila folder from Zayn’s hands and told Dr. Grimshaw about their client.
“His name is Louis Tomlinson, age 19. Mother passed away a few years ago, stepfather denied him access back home after traveling back to Doncaster from London. Has been on the street for about a week. Many younger siblings, all of which still too young to be in a position to help, though we’ve established they didn’t know he was back home. Acquaintances from college confirmed he has a major debt due to substance abuse, although he is clean at the moment. Is single and unbound, a perfect candidate for being a born-again Little.”
Dr. Grimshaw raised his eyebrows as he felt how cold Louis’ hands still were. “Why didn’t you bring him in sooner? Hypothermia can cause serious damage, and I don’t even want to imagine what his feet look like.” He said, as he looked at the feet, bare in some raggedy old Toms.
“He’ll be fine,” Zayn said calmly. “This was the right moment, any time before and we would’ve had a little fighter on our hands. We needed him to succumb, and he did.”
Grimshaw sighed and, with the help of an assistant, began undressing the boy. Liam’s mouth went wide when he saw how skinny Louis actually was, ribs countable and belly shallow. His arms were as thin as sticks, wrists so thin he could have both in one of his hands and still have room left.
The boy’s sharp features were even more pronounced because of the weight loss, cheekbones prominent.
After pulling off the boy’s shoes, pants and boxers, they were glad to see no scars littering Louis’ body. The boy was rolled over to check his back and it was clean too, which relieved all of them. The only thing that concerned them were his feet; Dr. Grimshaw made a note and told the two men Louis would probably lose a toe. As one of the assistants rolled in a bed, Liam scooped the naked boy up and laid him down under the covers, making sure he was tucked in nice and snug before being wheeled off to God knows where.
A hand on his shoulder jerked him out of his thoughts as Dr. Grimshaw ordered Louis to be taken away, getting prepped for his change.
“He’ll be fine. We’ll pick him up in three days.” Zayn said, pulling Liam into a hug. Though they’d done this many times before, it sometimes still shocked them (though, mostly Liam) when they saw the state their clients were in.
~*~
Louis was feeling… a bit out of place. He was warm, which was a plus, and quite cozy, although he couldn’t really define why. He had space though; plenty of space. His clothes felt a bit too loose but they were very comfortable. He opened his eyes, rubbing them with his fists when he couldn’t get a clear image. Still, the image remained fuzzy. Sitting up, he startled when he heard someone speak.
“It’ll be like that for a while, just until you’re completely little. Everything is still shrinking at this point,” a low voice said to him. Jerking around, Louis managed to focus on a hazy figure in a white lab-coat, sitting on what seemed to be a table, flicking his legs back and forth.
“Wha’?” he managed to croak out, not understanding what the man was telling him.
“Your vision. It’s fuzzy. Don’t worry; you won’t need glasses. As soon as your body is aged down, you’ll see again.”
Louis looked at his own body, holding out his hands in front of him. There was something very wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Plus, he had the feeling he didn’t really want to know. His hands looked… rounder. Softer, almost, more pink, definitely smaller, though in combination with the rest of his body, totally in proportion. His nails had been cut short it seemed, and when he went to look at his toes, he saw they were covered in Spiderman socks. His feet were small… as in, tiny. As in, those were children’s socks, as they had the size written on the bottom.
He also felt more ‘softer’ in general, noticing his legs had chubbed up just a little bit, and he prodded a finger at them, chuckling when the pudge bounced back. He immediately looked at the man in the white lab coat, hoping he didn’t hear Louis’ small laugh, because he knew he wasn’t supposed to be happy about any of this.
Something had obviously been done to his body, without his consent. They’d taken him somewhere and changed his clothes, all without his permission, and by the looks of it bathed him, waxed him (?), although his skin wasn’t sore. They’d also done something right though; he wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t cold or in any kind of pain. The most surprising thing was that he wasn’t craving any kind of drugs or alcohol. He felt surprisingly good, a bit fuzzy in the upstairs department but nothing too alarming. As he turned he felt something tug in his crotch area, but he didn’t pay it much mind for now.
He plunked back down on the bed, turning his head so he could look at the man who was still sitting there, writing something down. “Hmm?” he managed to say, or mumble.
The man looked up. “You can call me Nick, but I doubt you’re able to speak anymore. Vocal abilities are usually the first to go, but you’ll learn to talk again with your new Daddy.”
At this, Louis’ eyes widened. He was definitely not going to go back to Mark, he would fight tooth and nail for that not to happen. Letting out a small whine, he huffed as he realized he couldn’t even say the word ‘no’.
Nick chuckled. “You won’t be going back to your stepfather. You’ll get a new Daddy, who you’ll get to see in a couple of days, yeah?”
Louis didn’t really know what to do with this information, the physical feeling of being okay not weighing up to his mental discomfort anymore. Yes, they probably saved his life, and he knew there was such a thing as born-again babies, but he certainly never expected to become one. Tears started to gather in his eyes and once the first one fell, a huge head ache presented itself.
“I’m sorry Louis, but you need to stay calm in order to have a painless transition.”
Nick hovered over his bed and tried to put a hand on Louis’ small shoulder, but the boy wouldn’t have it. He tried to smack Nick’s hand away but felt even more frustrated when he realized he’d lost a lot of muscle strength.
The older man put a small mask over his mouth, something strawberry scented. Louis tried to struggle, but his tiny body was no match for the adult man and his flailing didn’t help. If anything, the ragged breaths he was taking only made the sedative work quicker, and it wasn’t long until the tiny limbs stopped fighting and laid still on the bed, Louis’ breathing evening out, eyes finally fluttering closed.
“I’m sorry little one, I really am.” Nick said, as he turned the knob down, now only giving Louis as much sedative as was needed to keep him asleep. Rearranging the tiny boy’s body, he took off the Spiderman socks to examine the boy’s small feet. The de-aging cured a lot of things, but didn’t save Louis’ left little toe. Blood circulation to the boy’s feet had been severely compromised due to the cold and the skin had started to rot due to being in wet shoes all the time. The boy had probably had a small wound, which had started to fester and grow. The little toe had been the worst off, and they’d had to amputate. His feet were healing properly though, and Nick was glad because he quite liked the feisty little lad. Carefully putting the socks back onto the limp feet one by one, he also put another pair of fuzzy socks on top, stimulating more blood flow.
Seeing as the boy would soon reach the baby-stages, Nick pulled down the simple white briefs, before getting a diaper. They’d put a catheter in every client as soon as they arrived, lest they wet themselves. Louis was small enough to fit in diapers now and could easily be changed seeing as he'd become so small. Of course, the urethra channel had also been shrinking, and it wouldn’t be long until the catheter tube would’ve been too big for the boy’s small genitals.
After taking the necessary hygienic precautions, he deflated the small balloon inside of Louis and was able to pull the catheter out in one fluid motion. He cleaned the area and after powdering, the diaper was secured and the white briefs were put on top. He knew that diaper changes were the part the born-again Littles hated most, but it was something that came with any re-aging. The Littles would need to be potty trained all over again. Nick found it best to put their Littles in diapers when they were still out for the count, because they’d either cry from humiliation or get very angry. Nick didn’t like fusses, so he’d happily let the first conscious diaper change be done by the new parents.
Nick knew it would only take about another day or so until Louis was a full-on baby. He’d leave Louis now, only to come back in the morning, knowing he would find the boy in the same clothes but way too big for him.
He’d talked to Zayn and Liam about Louis, and they told him this was the Little they wanted to give to Harry. They’ve all known Harry for ages, knew how lonely he was, how ready he was for a child. Harry never objected to having a born-again Little, stating he would love to give someone a 'new chance in life’. After taking care of Louis one-on-one these last few days (every doctor had one assigned Little they went through the entire process with) he knew Zayn and Liam had made the right choice in choosing Louis. The boy hadn’t seemed to mind his regression all that much, or had at least seemed to appreciate them taking away his physical pains.
He hoped the little boy would be the perfect Little for Harry, and at this point it did seem so.