Alfred & Daniel: An Age-Regression Story

Chapter 3

Danny considered. He'd had a lot of fun that morning, surprisingly. And he felt better about himself. There wasn't much in his flat apart from the mess and a lot of alcohol, the decision was easily made.

"Please can I stay, Alfred?"

" Of course you can." Alfred released Danny from the half hug.

"But on one condition, from now on you must do everything I tell you to. No more angry outbursts, no more overanalysing, no more rudeness. I'm not here to hurt you or embarrass you. I'm here to help you. Understand?"

"Yes"

" I mean it, Danny. I'm not your therapist or anything, but from what I've seen. The only viable alternative for you right now is to go to residential rehab. And I'm sure that would do a mighty fine job at dismantling your career success so far."

Danny looked at him.

"I'm not wrong am I, Danny. You're what 24? And an alcoholic. Overworked, underpaid, ridiculously stressed. Judging by the state of your place, you're probably depressed to some degree as well. You're not happy, Danny."

"I'm 22..." Danny muttered, he looked at the floor. Alfred was scarily accurate about nearly everything.

"Son, that's even worse." Alfred looked at Danny, he looked like he was about to cry. "Come here Danny" and pulled him into a proper hug.

Danny couldn't even remember the last time that he was properly hugged.

"You've been left to fend for yourself. Let me help get you sorted out."

" Okay." Danny sniffed, still in Alfred's arms. He didn't want to let go, it was the most affection he'd received in years.

" Good. I'm glad." Alfred slowly released him from the hug. " Now I know you felt like this was controversial a moment ago. But I need you to sit and watch Thomas the tank engine."

Danny looked at him confused.

"Daniel, you said you'd do what I told you. And quite frankly, there is something wrong if a kid's TV show makes you upset and angry. Come, sit, we're going to watch a few episodes together."

Danny reluctantly sat down, Alfred was right. A TV show about talking trains shouldn't have gotten him angry or weirded out at all. Alfred went over to the TV and manually turned up the volume a bit. Then sat down next to Danny and put his arm around him.
A few episodes later, Danny realised he was actually enjoying it. He started to know the names of the trains on the show and their personalities.

"It's not so bad is it?" Alfred asked once an episode had finished.

"It's surprisingly good actually. I wasn't really allowed to watch stuff like this growing up. Parents didn't think it was educational enough."

Alfred nodded gently, acknowledging this. Now Danny was starting to make sense to him. He'd never before had a boy freak out over a TV show before, they normally got nostalgic and slipped into Middle space easily. Danny would be a bit more of a challenge clearly, but Alfred liked a good challenge. Being a Daddy to someone took away the stresses from his life, and having been a Middle and Little to countless other men in his formative years he knew how to be the best Daddy to any and all boys.

For dinner, Alfred put on turkey dinosaurs and oven chips. He was happily surprised that Danny was eager to have them. At around 8, Alfred sent Danny back home.

Danny got to his apartment, content and happy for the first time in a while. Only to be greeted by his pungent, overflowing bin and mess everywhere. He looked at his dirty laundry and remembered he'd have to find something clean for work tomorrow. 'Work tomorrow', he thought, his heart sank. He didn't want to go in. He hated it.

He went to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a bottle of gin, then strategically hopped across his depression nest of a room, clambered into bed, positioning himself in a way that didn't knock the piles of clothing and rubbish that were perfectly balanced on his bed.
Then drank himself to sleep.