Baby of the Band

Three

Getting Rob to sleep for his nap took a bit longer than he'd been anticipating, if only 'cuz the pint-sized bassist was a bit stubborn, but the drummer finally managed to do it. Putting that new bedtime baby lotion to use by giving him a bit of a rub-down helped with that endeavor, and he finally drifted off with a soft sigh.

        Rikki gently slipped his paci between his lips before moving to tuck his favorite throw blanket around him so he'd stay warm. He didn't wanna disturb him by trying to put his lil T-shirt back on him just yet, but he knew the rest of them liked the AC to be turned down pretty low. If he left him in nothing but a diaper, he'd no doubt get cold and wake up with a squeal like he'd imagine a cold bath'd make him let out. Beyond that, he'd no doubt be cranky from not getting the nap he needed, which'd just lead to pissing the rest of them off when they got sick of his shit.

        "He asleep yet?"

        Looking up as he entered the front lounge, that visual of Rob sprawled out on his back and sucking on his paci still dancing over his mind's eye, he nodded. "Took me a bit longer than I planned, 'cuz he wanted to be a lil stubborn, but that's Bobby for ya."

        "At least he's asleep now," Bret sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

        "Yeah, 'cuz we've a chat we need to have."

        Rikki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat down, even CC rubbing his temples since they knew what was coming. No matter how much they wanted to, there was no way they could continue the tour when their bassist was stuck wearing diapers and squealing. It wasn't fair to ask his tech to fill in for him constantly for what could be weeks, if not months before he Returned to normal. Besides, what kinda statement could they release on his sudden disappearance since he couldn't show his face to the public?

        Considering they didn't have the first idea as to how and why he'd gone to bed a grown man somewhat whacked out on painkillers, then woken up as an infant, they were at a loss. They couldn't even Begin to figure out how to get him back to normal without knowing what–besides the obvious–had happened in the first place. Lacking that particular Knowledge was what was driving them crazier than just about anything, even taking care of him, right now.

        "Ya know what?"

        The taller blondes looked surprised to hear their Brooklyn-born guitarist speak up.

        "Maybe ya guys're right about me needing help," CC started, making their jaws drop. "Don't look at me like that–I've enough demons in my head giving me weird looks, so I don't need them from my friends, too."

        "Well, damn–I never thought the Day'd come that we'd hear him say that, Rik," Bret breathed, still shocked.

        "Me, either," he agreed. "But what madeja finally admit it, C?"

        "'Cuz I can tell you're sick of my behavior, and I'm willing to take one for the team," the guitarist answered.

        "Whaddaya mean, CC?" their manager, Howie, asked curiously.

        "We obviously can't tell the World that Bobby's a diaper-shitting rugrat," he told them pointedly. "So, what other excuses can we use for cancelling a tour right in the middle of it?"

        All their jaws dropped as what he was getting at Dawned on them.

        "Yeah, exactly," CC said. "Better to say tensions grew to a head and we were better off cancelling the tour before somebody seriously got hurt than to tell the public the Truth."

        "And with pretty much everyone on the Planet knowing about our recent tensions..." The front man couldn't help a thoughtful look as he trailed off.