The Last Humans (Age-Regression)

Chapter Seventy: Cartoons With Grammy and Grandpa

Arabella (The Queen) POV:

Geoff and I have been staying at The First Family's house since Clara's fail of a baby shower. We're not ready to go back to Xeoph yet, and we want to spend more time with Clara.

Today she had to get several shots and I'm scared about how she's going to take it. Grace called me after Clara got her shots, telling me she was on her way home. My granddaughter was screaming bloody murder in the background, calling out for me.

The poor thing clearly had a hard time with her shots and she wants her Grammy. "We should bring her newborn swing in here. I know Grace said she dropped out of her headspace, but Clara might need the comfort." Geoff suggests.

I quickly agree and we both head off towards The First Family's quarters. Grabbing my phone, I make sure to text Grace that we're grabbing the swing out of her room. She quickly responds and tells me to go ahead.

Upon entering their bedroom, I see that it's clean but a little bit disorganized. There's a couple pairs of clothes on the floor, some of Clara's toys scattered around the bed, and several pacifiers resting on the nightstands.

Geoff walks over to the side of the room where Clara's swing is, and hefts it up. "This thing is so tiny. I can't believe how small Clara is compared to us." He comments while holding the tiny swing in one hand.

I completely agree. Even Clarissa wasn't as small as Clara is. "She's a teeny tiny thing, even for a human." I say while walking back into our room.

Geoff sets up the baby swing beside our bed and I coo happily at it. It's probably weird to coo at a baby swing, but I'm just happy that the First Family trusts us enough to let Clara stay in the room with us. Even if it's only for a few hours.

I'm broken out of my thoughts when a large baby wail sounds through the corridor. Not even a second later, the door is thrown open and in walks Grace holding a sobbing Clara.

The poor thing has three bandaids on her right thigh, and another two on her left. Clara's pink onesie is stained with drool and tears, while her hair is frazzled.

"Gwammy, owie!" Clara cries while leaning out of Grace's arms, making grabby hands at me.

I walk over to Grace and lift Clara out of her arms. She sticks her head into the side of my neck and continues to sob. "Shhh, Grammy and Grandpa are here." I coo while rubbing her back.

"She had to have five shots today. If you can just watch her for a couple hours, that would help a lot. Just watch out for any side effects and if you see any, come get us right away." Grace says while running her fingers through the tangled strands of her hair.

The poor woman looks stressed the hell out. I completely understand it though. Listening to your baby cry is hard, but it's even harder when they won't let you console them. "I got her, Grace. Go take a break, you deserve it."

"I'm going to have Atticus bring you up some milk for her. She had a few ounces this morning on her way to the office, but she'll want some more soon. He'll also bring in a few diapers, some wipes, her favorite bear, and a change of clothes.

"If you need anything else, you know where her nursery is. I'm also going to have my phone close by if anything happens." Grace tells me while anxiously tapping her foot.

I can tell she wants to comfort Clara, but the baby wants me right now and there isn't anything she can do about that. "Go and rest, Grace. The baby and I will be fine. We'll chill, watch some cartoons, and have a slow day. You deserve some time to yourself." I reply softly while bouncing Clara in my arms.