Her Little Helper

Chapter 12

*Savannah's POV*

Well that was a shit show.

I can't say I'm surprised. What else did Samuel expect? For me to just have forgotten all of my history with Molly? Whatever. We gave it a shot, it's clearly not going to amount to anything. So now we'll just get on with the rest of our lives like normal. He has his company, I have mine. He has his ungrateful, mouthy brat of a little and I have my little angel.

Speaking of my little angel, Abigail has yet to say a word since our little incident with Molly over lunch. She's been clinging to me from the moment we got back into the car. I even had to unbuckle us both so that she could curl up onto my lap. Normally, I would never condone not wearing a seatbelt, but Abigail nearly started bawling when I initially told her that we couldn't.

Even now that we're back home, she still gets upset if I put her down or leave her side. I left her on the couch with some cartoons on so that I could run to the bathroom. When I came back she was a complete wreck, sobbing, screaming, and drool coming out of her mouth uncontrollably. I finally got her to settle down after she bundled herself into my chest again. It seemed like that was the only place she could stay without having a meltdown.  

"Abigail, honey." I asked. "Can you talk to me? What are you feeling right now?"

No answer. Just occasional little babbles and whimpers.

Even though our dynamic is only about a week old, I've never really seen her drift younger than a five or six-year-old headspace. But since lunch at Samuel's, it's been like having to take care of a baby. Maybe she's younger now than she's ever been in little space. See my anger toward Molly might have just been too much for her regular headspace to handle. It probably pushed her deeper into her headspace than she's ever gone. God, it's no wonder she's been freaking out when I'm not there. Abigail is, quite literally, my baby girl right now.

Figuring Abigail had no interest in watching the cartoons I had put on for her, I flipped to my own show. I would've liked to have been able to change out of my jeans and into more comfortable clothes, but seeing as I can't really put Abigail down without a crying fit ensuing, I'll suck it up for now. 

Before long, I felt Abigail's breathing steady and realized she was fast asleep with her head snug against my chest and her thumb firmly in her mouth. I'm going to have to get her a pacifier if her baby headspace starts coming out more often. Molly never got younger than about six-years-old, so baby-related items are something I hadn't really stocked up on. 

My eyes eventually started getting heavy as I watched my show. But just as sleep was starting to set in, I felt a warmth spread across my right thigh were Abigail was sat. 

"Fuck." I whispered to myself. 

I stood up, very careful not to wake the sleeping Abigail. Sure enough, she had an accident. Making my way upstairs to the bathroom, I started the bath. I couldn't leave Abigail in soiled clothes. 

"Abigail, baby. Can you wake up for me?" I hummed in her ear as I bounced her a little bit. 

She stirred, eventually opening her eyes ever so slightly. 

"Mama?" she asked, looking around with confusion.

I had to say I was relieved to hear her voice. She was certainly adorable in her baby headspace, but I was not prepared at all. Especially unprepared for not being able to verbally communicate with her. 

"Hi babygirl!" I replied excitedly, glad to hear her speak again. "You had a good sleep, huh?"

She nodded, but soon looked down at herself.