The most intelligent person in the room

Chapter 3
I'm here for you, no matter what.

Chapter Description: William continues to discover the consequences of his actions while learning that Sara is there for him.

William sat on the couch, his legs dangling, unable to touch the floor. His fingers, now tiny and clumsy, fiddled with his phone, scrolling aimlessly through an endless cascade of TikTok videos on scientific topics. The screen remained silent, with no notifications, no replies. Daniel hadn't answered. A feeling of anxiety began to grow in William's chest, like a snowball rolling downhill, accumulating more and more weight with each passing minute.

"Why isn't he answering?" he muttered to himself, though he knew there was no easy answer. The police could be investigating, reviewing records, or perhaps they were about to knock on his door at any moment. William ran a hand over his face, feeling the softness of his skin, so different from what he remembered.

His mind wandered to another consuming problem: his possible incontinence. He'd already had to run to the bathroom twice since waking up, and both times it had been a race against time. He didn't understand why his body wasn't giving him clear signals like before. "Is it the serum?" he wondered. "Or is it my brain that hasn't adapted yet?" The idea that his adult mind couldn't handle a child's needs made him feel like an idiot, something William Kruek wasn't used to.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs brought him out of his thoughts. Sara appeared in the living room, holding Tina's soccer ball. She had a warm smile on her face.

"William," Sara said, approaching him. "I was thinking... maybe you should go outside and play for a while. The sun is shining, and the backyard is perfect for a little exercise."

William looked at her incredulously, as if she'd suggested he join a circus. "Play? Sara, I'm not a child. I don't need to go outside and kick a ball around to distract myself."

Sara sat down next to him, placing the ball on the couch between them. "I know, honey. But you can't stay here all day, worrying about things you can't control. Some fresh air will do you good."

William frowned, feeling anger rising inside him, like a pressure cooker about to explode. "It's not that simple, Sara. I can't just go out and play like nothing happened. I have to think ahead, I have to plan what I'm going to do. There are variables to consider, what and how I'm going to handle this situation."

Sara looked at him as if she could see the sparks flying through his head, as if his mind was full of crossed wires and tangled thoughts. "William, I know we're in a complicated situation. But you can't let your anxiety consume you like this. We both know that until you have more information, you're just going around in circles, thinking about things that might not happen. Go outside for a while, move around, and distract yourself... You know exercise helps clear your mind and help you think of a plan better." Sara said, knowing that the best way to confront her husband in situations like this was with logic, even if it was basic.

William looked down, feeling Sara's words echoing in his mind, like an echo he couldn't ignore. He knew she was right, but admitting it was another matter entirely. "I don't feel like going out, nor do I have much interest in the neighbors seeing me," he finally said, his tone softer, as if he were giving ground in a battle he didn't want to fight.

Sara smiled at him, stroking his hair tenderly, as if he were a small child in need of comfort. "No one's going to see you; the fence is too high. And we both know that if this goes on too long, you'll have to get used to going outside like a kid. You're not expecting to stay locked up in the house like a prisoner until you're 35 again, are you?" she asked playfully, as if trying to lighten the mood.

William sighed, feeling the resistance inside him begin to give way, like a house of cards collapsing under its own weight. Maybe Sara was right. Maybe a little exercise was what he needed to take his mind off all his troubles. "All right," he said finally, taking the ball in his small hands, as if it were a strange and unfamiliar object. "But don't expect me to be outside all morning. You know I've never been good at sports."

Sara laughed softly, as if the idea of William being a good soccer player was as absurd as a dragon dancing ballet. "Don't worry, darling. I don't expect you to become the next Messi either."

William rolled his eyes. He got up from the couch, picked up the ball, and walked toward the back door, feeling the sun greet him with its warmth, as if the outside world were a completely new place. The backyard was a large, welcoming space, with a well-kept lawn and a couple of shady trees. William paused for a moment, staring at the space with a mixture of nostalgia and strangeness. He'd spent so much time locked away in his lab, in his office, that he barely remembered what his backyard looked like. He hadn't visited it much since Tina was six years old and they played soccer together to help her catch up on her sports lessons.

With a clumsy motion, William placed the ball on the ground and kicked it with a force that, in his adult mind, should have sent it flying to the other end of the yard. However, the ball barely traveled a few meters before bouncing off the back fence and rolling back toward him. William stared at it with a blank expression, wondering if this was all he was going to do for the foreseeable future: kick a ball around the backyard like a ten-year-old.

Sara watched him from the kitchen window, holding a cup of tea. The last time she'd seen him try to kick a ball, she couldn't tell who was more uncoordinated: her six-year-old daughter or her husband, who, despite his 1.80 meter height, seemed to have two left feet. Now, with her new, childlike body, the situation didn't seem to have improved much. Sara sighed, feeling like her life had become one of those absurd comedies she used to read for fun, although she had never imagined something like that could happen to her.

William continued kicking the ball, but quickly realized his control over it was almost nonexistent. The ball bounced in unpredictable directions, sometimes rolling away from him, other times bouncing hard off the fence and hurtling in his direction. His movements were clumsy, as if his body didn't know how to coordinate his feet with the round object he was trying to master. Although he knew deep down it wasn't entirely due to his increased age, in his adult life he wasn't a pro either, he liked to think that at least he could kick a ball without looking completely inept.

The truth was that William had never been an athlete. Ever since he was a child and his family had discovered his intellect, they had made his life revolve around studying and developing his mind. "You're too smart to waste your time playing games," they told him. And he had believed it. At school, while other children played soccer or ran around the playground, he preferred to stay in the library, reading science books or solving math problems. Any kind of sport was relegated to a lower priority.

A memory surfaced in his mind, like a blur that suddenly came into sharp focus. It was a memory he hadn't revisited in years: his brief and disastrous attempt at playing basketball during his first semester of college. It had been an impulsive decision, an attempt to try something new, to step out of his comfort zone and prove to himself that he could be more than just a brain locked in a lab. But reality had been cruel. He quickly realized he didn't have the talent or the coordination. His agile, confident teammates outperformed him in skill and speed, while he felt like a fish out of water, clumsy and out of place. After just a few weeks, he quit. It was the first time in his life he'd given up on something, and that failure had haunted him for years, like a shadow he couldn't shake. "I'm no good at this," he'd thought back then, reinforcing all the ideas he'd formed about the sport in his childhood. And now, that same phrase echoed in his mind, as the soccer ball slipped away from him once again, as if the universe were mocking him.

But then, an idea began to germinate in his mind, like a seed finding fertile soil. Until yesterday, he had been an adult. An adult who, while not an athlete, could at least walk, run, and kick a ball without looking like a total wreck. Now, with the body of a ten-year-old, could he improve his physical abilities? What if he improved as a child? What would happen to his adult body when he used the antidote? Could he compare his current physical abilities to those he had as an adult and use them as comparison data? The idea intrigued him, as if it were a scientific experiment that only he could carry out, a challenge that only his curious and analytical mind could tackle.

With a sigh, William walked over to the ball and picked it up in his small hands. He looked at it for a moment, feeling its rough texture beneath his fingers. "That's an interesting question," he thought. "I have nothing to lose, do I?"

With determination, he placed the ball on the ground and kicked it again, this time more carefully. The ball rolled straight, gently hitting the fence. William smiled, feeling a small spark of satisfaction. It was time to collect data, to turn this absurd game into something useful, something only he could understand. After all, even in the midst of chaos, there was always a way to find order.

William continued practicing with the ball, but something had changed. He was no longer frustrated by his clumsiness. Instead, a feeling of lightness began to wash over him, as if the weight of the world that had been resting on his small shoulders had evaporated. With each kick, each run after the ball, the problems that had plagued him all morning were forgotten. The anxiety about Daniel, the worry about the police, even the fear of incontinence faded to the back of his mind. For the first time in a long time, William was having fun.

As he played, his ever-active mind began to do what it did best: analyze. But this time, he began comparing his skills as if they were game statistics. "Assuming that as an adult, I could at best kick a ball 15 meters with all my strength," he thought, recalling how he had once watched his lab colleagues play informal lunchtime games and using that as a reference. "Now, he's barely made it 5 meters, and the ball is going in every direction."

These comparisons amused him. His mind began creating mental charts, filled with imaginary data. "Running speed: As an adult, about 8 km/h in a short sprint. Now, probably no more than 5 km/h, but with surprising endurance." He smiled to himself, imagining what it would be like to graph these statistics. "Shooting accuracy: As an adult, 60% on target. Well... there is no target."

It was then that he saw the dead branches lying beneath the tree where Tina's old swing had hung. An idea struck him. "If I'm going to keep playing, I at least need a goal," he thought. Determined, he walked over to the tree and picked up a couple of thick branches. He stuck them into the ground, one on each side, creating a makeshift goal. It wasn't perfect—the branches were crooked, and the distance between them was uneven… but it'll do.

"Good, now for shooting practice," he murmured, placing the ball a few feet from the goal. With a sharp motion, he kicked the ball toward the goal. The ball flew in a curved trajectory, passing just over one of the branches. William laughed, feeling a wave of satisfaction. "It wasn't a goal, but it was close."

Time passed as he tried to fine-tune his technique with each shot. Sometimes the ball went straight into the goal, other times it went completely wide. But with each attempt, William felt he was gathering more information, not only about his ability with the ball, but also better understanding his new limits.

After an hour of play, William was exhausted. His little legs were trembling slightly, and his breathing was labored. He had managed to get the ball into the makeshift goal a few times, though it hadn't always been on purpose. "The law of large numbers," he thought with a tired smile. "If you kick the ball enough times, it will eventually go in by pure probability."

It was a bit insulting, given that they were pity goals if he put them that way. He'd noticed something interesting: his child's body adapts more easily. Unlike an adult body, which might often need weeks of training to show significant improvements, this new body seemed to learn more easily. Every time he kicked the ball, his technique improved slightly. His movements became more fluid, more precise. It was as if his adult mind, full of experience and knowledge, was empowering the natural abilities of his younger body.

"Youth is wasted on the young," he muttered to himself, recalling the famous phrase. He had never understood it more clearly than at that moment. Children have an amazing capacity for learning and adaptation, but they often don't take full advantage of it. He, on the other hand, with his adult mind and analytical approach, was making the most of this opportunity.

Sitting on the ground, catching his breath, William looked toward the house. He knew he should go inside. But his gaze drifted to the ball, resting near him, and then to the makeshift goal he'd created from the branches. "One last shot," he thought, feeling determination rekindle in his chest. "For science!"

With an effort, he stood up and placed the ball a few meters from the goal. He took a deep breath, concentrating on the objective. He prepared himself, adjusting his stance, calculating the angle and force needed. With a swift, precise movement, he kicked the ball. This time, the trajectory was perfect. The ball flew straight, passing right between the two branches that served as the goalposts.

Goal!

William froze for a moment, watching the ball bounce against the fence. Then, a huge smile spread across his face. "I did it!" he exclaimed, feeling a surge of emotion he hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't the kind of accomplishment he usually celebrated—he hadn't solved a complex equation or discovered a new substance—but at that moment, that backyard goal felt like one of the greatest victories of his life.

For the first time in a long time, William was enjoying the feeling of accomplishment. Being a genius, he was someone for whom intellectual challenges were almost routine. Any problem presented to him, no matter how complex, eventually fell before his brilliant mind and tireless determination. But this was different. This wasn't something he could solve with books or formulas. This required practice, patience, and perseverance. And, for the first time, he hadn't given up.

He sat back down on the ground, this time with a satisfied smile on his face. He looked at the makeshift goal, then at the ball, and finally at his own small hands, feeling comfortable with this body for the first time.

A few ragged breaths later, William decided it was time to go inside. He stood up and walked toward the house, still smiling, the ball tucked under his arm. The afternoon sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with warm hues of orange and red. He felt light, as if the weight of his worries had been lifted, at least for a moment. He had accomplished something, however small, and it filled him with a satisfaction he hadn't felt in a long time.

Just as he was about to enter, the door opened and Sara appeared, holding a glass of cold lemonade. She had a warm smile on her face, and her eyes shone with a mixture of tenderness and amusement. She had seen William celebrate his latest goal, and although she knew that, deep down, he was still an adult, she couldn't help but think how adorable it was to see him act like a child, running around and laughing with genuine excitement.

"Looks like you had fun," Sara said, extending the glass toward William. "Here, you earned it."

William gratefully took the glass, feeling the coldness of the crystal transmit to his hands. "Thank you, Sara," he said, bringing the glass to his lips and drinking the lemonade in one gulp. The cold, refreshing liquid felt like balm, soothing the dryness in his throat after so much effort. "Yes, it was... fun," he admitted, in a tone that tried to sound casual, but couldn't completely hide his satisfaction.

She knew William didn't want to be treated like a child, but right now, seeing him there, his face flushed from exertion and a smile he couldn't hide, it was hard not to see him for what he looked like: a happy child after a day of play.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Sara said, her tone gentle. "Sometimes a little fun is just what we need to clear our heads."

William nodded, feeling the conversation flow naturally. For a moment, everything seemed perfect. He'd accomplished something, his anxiety was gone, and now he'd earned a good night's rest. But then, something changed.

At first, it was just a mild, almost imperceptible sensation. A small tickle in his lower belly. William ignored it as he continued talking to his wife. But then, the sensation grew more intense, more urgent. And before he could react, it happened.

William felt something warm and wet begin to spread through his pants. At first, he couldn't believe it. He felt panic beginning to take hold of him. But it was undeniable. He was wetting his pants, right there in front of Sara, like a little boy who hadn't made it to the bathroom in time.

Time seemed to stand still. William stood frozen, the empty glass still in his hand, staring at Sara with an expression of horror and shame. His cheeks flushed bright red, and he felt heat spread across his face. "No, no, no," he thought, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. "This can't be happening. Not in front of her."

But it was too late. Sara looked at him, and although she tried to hide it, William could see the surprise and concern in her eyes. "William..." she began, but couldn't finish the sentence. There were no words for this situation, for this moment that seemed to stretch on forever.

William felt the thrill of his victory fade, replaced by a sense of defeat and humiliation. He'd gone from feeling proud and happy to feeling completely vulnerable, exposed. "How could I have let this happen?" he thought, feeling tears beginning to burn his eyes.

But the worst part wasn't the accident itself, but the way Sara looked at him. Not with anger or disgust, but with a mixture of concern and pity that made him feel even smaller and more pathetic. "Stop looking at me!" he wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, he just stood there, his pants wet, his heart pounding, feeling the world crumble around him.

Finally, Sara broke the silence. "It's okay, nothing happened," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

William nodded weakly, feeling shame consume him completely.

Sara gently took William's hand. Her fingers, warm and secure, wrapped around his slightly trembling ones. William tried to resist, tried to say he could walk on his own, but the words wouldn't come. So he could only follow her, head bowed, cheeks burning with shame. Every step toward the bathroom was a reminder of his mistake as he felt the damp fabric interact with his body.

Sara had never seen William like this. Ever since she'd met him, he'd been an imposing figure: confident, independent, always prepared for any situation. He was the man who solved problems before she even realized they existed. The man who had been the pillar of the family for years, the one who always had the answers. But now, that man was reduced to a little boy, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes and a trembling lip that further betrayed his struggle to keep from bursting into tears.

"You don't have to feel bad. It could have happened to anyone," Sara said in a motherly voice, as if she were talking to Tina after a nightmare. "It's the serum's fault, not yours."

William didn't respond. He couldn't. Every word he tried to form in his mind vanished before reaching his lips. "I'm not a child. You don't have to talk to me like I'm in kindergarten," he thought, clenching his free hand into a fist. Yet Sara didn't seem to notice his inner resistance. Or, if she did, she chose to ignore it. With careful movements, she guided him to the bathroom and closed the door behind them. The sound of the latch clicking shut echoed in William's ears like a final blow to his dignity.

"Sara, I can handle it," William murmured, his voice sounding more like a plea than a statement. "You don't have to be here while I fix it."

There was concern in her eyes, but also a calm determination. "Look at you, your hands still won't stop shaking," she said, making William look at his own hands, confirming what his wife was saying. Even so, he wasn't going to agree with her; he didn't plan on giving up on this either. So he slowly lowered his hands and tried to unbutton his pants, but his hands became increasingly clumsy the more frustrated he was that he couldn't do it. 

The logical part of William knew that if he took a moment to breathe and calm down, his hands would stop shaking and he would be able to unbutton them. However, logic had stopped controlling William, who was now tugging hard at the waist of his pants, which were held firmly around his hips, as they enjoyed the resistance that any newly purchased garment would have. This only annoyed William even more, who now only tugged at his clothes as a way to release his frustration. 

“Wait, I’ll help you,” Sara said, placing a hand on his shoulder, getting the attention of the boy who was struggling to keep his feelings in order. “Just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?” The boy looked at her with a frown, his labored breathing didn’t seem to want to let up, instead it seemed that William would start destroying the entire bathroom in a fit of rage, even so, seeing Sara’s calm gaze, William nodded, letting go of his pants. 

“Now, look at me, breathe with me.” Without losing her calm attitude, Sara began to breathe deeply through her mouth, holding it for a moment and then releasing it slowly. William tried to follow her, but his accelerated pace couldn’t match his wife’s breathing. Sara patiently repeated the exercise, giving her husband a few words of encouragement until she saw how William’s breathing finally regulated.

"Are you feeling better?" Sara asked, seeing that the boy was finally able to control his breathing. William, for his part, simply nodded, breathing through his nose. For a person like William, the idea of having a tantrum of this magnitude was absurd.

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll help you, okay?” his wife asked, and William took a moment to look at his hands, which felt heavy and tired, not only from playing but also from the overexertion of trying to tear off his own pants. The young scientist still couldn’t keep his hands under control, so he nodded again in confirmation as she knelt in front of him to unbutton his pants.

William tried to move away at first, but his body didn't respond. He stood there, motionless, as Sara undressed him with the same patience and care she'd been showing him. Each movement was gentle, but relentless. The wet pants fell to his ankles, and William felt the cool air of the bathroom hit his skin, making him aware of how exposed he had become.

"I can do it myself…" he finally said, his voice cracking, but it did nothing to hide his childish emotional state. "I'm an adult, Sara. I don't need you to change me like a baby."

Sara paused for a moment, looking into his eyes. "William, I'm not treating you like a baby," she said, her tone intended to be reassuring. "I'm treating you like my husband, an adult who needs my help and has nothing to be ashamed of."

But William couldn't see it that way. To him, Sara's every movement made him feel useless, like some kind of old man incapable of caring for himself, which mortified him. Although his current condition made the closest comparison to a child with an inability to control even the most basic bodily functions. "You don't understand," he said, his tone higher than he'd intended. "I'm not supposed to need help... I'm supposed to be able to care for myself! Not depend on you or anyone else!" And even if he didn't want to, the scientist's current voice made it easier for him to remember every time he repeated those same words to himself during his early childhood, after every reproach or complaint made by his family when he wasn't able to behave at the level of someone of his mental capacity.

Sara sighed, rubbing her temples as if trying to relieve a headache that was just starting. "William, I know this is difficult for you. But you can't keep denying what's happening. You're going through something no one could possibly understand. I can't even tell you if I understand everything that's happened." She sighed, allowing herself to be honest with her husband. "But even if I don't understand, I want to support you. But that won't happen if you don't stop resisting and allow me to help you. Do you understand?"

William felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground giving way beneath his feet. "I understand…" he murmured, feeling the tears he'd been holding back begin to escape. "But it's not fair that I have to go through this. It's not fair that you have to see me like this."

Sara looked at him with an expression that was a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Life isn't always fair, William," she said, reaching over to wipe his tears with the edge of her sleeve. "But we're in this together. You don't have to face it alone."

William wanted to believe her. He wanted to accept her words, her help, her love. But the shame and frustration were too great. "I don't want you to see me as different," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to treat me like someone helpless, like I'm a child... like I'm a burden..."

Sara hugged him then, enveloping him in a hug that was both comforting and overwhelming. William resisted at first, but eventually collapsed in her arms, feeling the weight of his emotions crush him. "You're not a burden, Love," Sara murmured, stroking his hair. "You're my husband, and I love you. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

William didn't respond. He couldn't. He could only cry, feeling his self-image crumble completely. He'd gone from being a strong, independent man to a vulnerable person who really wanted that hug, and he didn't know how to deal with it. But deep down, he was grateful for how lucky he was to have Sara by his side at that moment.

Sara allowed William to release all those feelings by allowing him to remain within her embrace until she felt he was ready to leave. After a few minutes, William's cries turned into small hiccups and then just small sobs.

With a final breath that let Sara know William was ready to leave the safety of her embrace, allowing his body to relax, though his mind was still at war with itself. It was as if she had crossed an invisible line, a boundary he had never before allowed anyone to cross. He, William Kruerk, the man who had always been in control, who had always been the pillar of the family, was now allowing Sara to guide him and take the helm of the situation. It was a strange feeling, as if he were floating in a space between resistance and surrender.

Sara moved with a calmness that William couldn't understand. Her hands began to undress him carefully, as if afraid of hurting him. William closed his eyes, unable to look directly at what was happening. He felt his shirt being lifted over his head, the cold air from the bathroom hitting his bare skin. Sara's every movement was meticulous, almost clinical, but still, William felt a deep discomfort. He wasn't used to this, to allowing himself to be so… vulnerable.

Although that wasn't the only feeling flooding his mind, he couldn't help but feel the shame consuming him from within. Every time Sara's hands touched him, every time she helped him remove another piece of clothing, William felt his pride crumble a little more. It was as if each layer of clothing that fell to the floor was also a layer of his identity, his independence, his dignity.

When he was finally completely naked, Sara took a wet washcloth and began gently cleaning him. The washcloth was cold, and the contrast with his skin made him shudder. William opened his eyes for a moment, watching Sara work with calm concentration, as if this were a normal, everyday occurrence. But for him, it wasn't, and he would make sure it never was.

"How can she do this without flinching?" William thought, feeling frustration and gratitude mixing in his chest. "How can she see me like this and not... not feel disgusted?"

To William, Sara seemed to feel nothing but concern and affection. Her movements were careful, almost reverential, as if she were cleaning something precious. William wanted to say something, wanted to protest, wanted to tell her he could do it himself, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he stood there, motionless, allowing Sara to care for him.

When she finished cleaning him, Sara looked into his eyes for a moment, as if searching for some sign that he was okay. William couldn't hold her gaze for long. He looked down, feeling the tears threatening to escape again.

"Hey, everything's going to be okay," Sara said, placing her hand on William's face and gently moving his head so the boy could look into her eyes. "I have to go get you some clothes. Do you think you'll be okay until I get back?"

William nodded weakly, feeling little relief at meeting his wife's gaze and noticing that there was no resentment in her eyes, only the same kind gaze of the woman he married. When Sara left the bathroom, she closed the door behind her, leaving William alone with his thoughts. The silence was deafening, and the sound of his own breathing seemed to echo in his ears.

He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of a small boy, his eyes red and his face stained with tears. "How could I have let things get so out of hand?" he murmured, feeling the question twist in his mind. "Because I thought stealing that serum would be a good idea in the first place?"

There were no easy answers. Only silence and the feeling that something fundamental inside him had changed. William had always been someone who could fend for himself, someone who didn't ask for help, who didn't need it. But now, here he was, standing in the middle of the bathroom, after having an accident, after having cried like he couldn't remember ever crying, and waiting for his wife to return with clean clothes so she could dress him.

When Sara returned, she had a matching T-shirt and shorts with Pokémon designs that were sure to fit his new body perfectly. William didn't say anything as she helped him get dressed, simply following Sara's instructions, guiding him step by step, just like she used to do when Tina still needed help getting dressed.

When Sara finished dressing him, she looked into his eyes for a moment before placing her hand back on his face so he could see her. The boy who looked back at her had a tired, weak look; his face was round, his skin soft and warm, his hair thick and straight. And yet, Sara couldn't help but recognize her husband in him. Her heart moved to see her husband in this moment of vulnerability, she approached and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

She could still recognize her husband, but the man was still just a child. Still, that didn't stop Sara from making him feel loved.

"Thank you," he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sara smiled tenderly at him, gently stroking his cheek. "You don't have to thank me, William," she said, her tone both comforting and overwhelming. "I'm here for you. I always will be."

William didn't respond. He couldn't. He understood what that kiss on his forehead meant, so he simply kissed his wife on the cheek in a swift motion, before returning to his position and looking at the floor, not giving himself time to see his wife's reaction, afraid of what she might see. But deep down, he knew Sara was right. He couldn't do this alone.

Sara was only happy for William's strange and almost innocent display of affection. She would make sure to treasure that moment. Although she couldn't help but feel a small sense of melancholy thinking about her husband as an adult. When all this would be behind him and William was an adult again, she would make sure to give him a proper kiss to the love of her life, but not before helping him understand that even as an adult, it would be okay to accept her help and be more open with her. Until that moment came, she would continue to protect this little one no matter what.

Sara closed the bathroom door behind her, leaving William alone for a moment while she went to find some clean clothes. Her hands were also shaking slightly. It had been difficult seeing William like this, so vulnerable, so... small. Not just in size, but in spirit. The man who had always been her support, her confidant, her partner, was now standing in front of her like a scared child, fighting back tears after an accident that had left him completely exposed.

As she walked down the hall toward the closet, Sara couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions fighting for dominance in her mind. On one hand, there was worry, the desire to protect William, to help him get through this difficult time. But deep down, there was something else, something she didn't dare admit out loud: a small spark of satisfaction at seeing someone depend on her in that way.

It wasn't that she didn't love Tina. Her daughter was her world, her pride and joy. But Tina had always been different. From a very young age, she'd displayed an independence that often left Sara feeling a little... unnecessary. Tina was like William in that way: intelligent, determined, and with a resolve that sometimes made her seem older than she was. Although Sara knew her daughter loved and needed her, it wasn't the kind of need that required constant hugs or maternal reassurances. Tina was more like a companion, an ally, than a child who needed to be taken care of.

But William... William was different now. Seeing him there, with those eyes filled with unshed tears, with that expression of defeat and shame, awakened in Sara a maternal instinct she hadn't felt in a long time. She couldn't deny that, deep down, the idea of having someone dependent on her like that pleased her. It wasn't that she wanted William to remain a child forever, of course not. But seeing him like that, so vulnerable, so needy, reminded her of the days when Tina was a baby, when every hug, every word of comfort, made a difference.

Sara sighed, shaking her head slightly to clear those thoughts. "This isn't the time," she told herself, as she opened the closet and searched for a T-shirt and shorts that would fit William. "He's your husband, not a child. Don't treat him like one."

But it was hard not to. As she grabbed her clothes and headed back to the bathroom, Sara couldn't help but notice how her heart warmed a little at the thought of caring for someone like that again. She'd discussed another child with William many times, but he'd always hesitated. "It's not the right time," he'd say, or "Tina's enough." Sara had never pushed him too hard, but the thought of another child in the house had always been there, in the back of her mind. And now, even though the situation was complicated and surreal, she couldn't help but feel that, somehow, that wish was being granted.

When she returned to the bathroom, she found William standing in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection with an expression that was difficult to decipher. Sara approached him gently, placing the clothes on the sink.

"Come on, William," he said, his tone intended to be reassuring. "Let's get you dressed."

William said nothing, but allowed Sara to help him. His movements were clumsy, as if he were struggling to maintain some dignity amidst humiliation. Sara looked at him with concern, but also with affection. "It's okay," she murmured, adjusting his shirt. "We're done, see? You had nothing to worry about."

"Thank you," he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sara smiled tenderly at him, gently stroking his cheek. "You don't have to thank me, William," she said, her tone both comforting and overwhelming. "I'm here for you. I always will be."

After William was dressed, Sara gently guided him to the edge of the tub, where they both sat shoulder to shoulder. The air still smelled of cleanliness and the wet wipes Sara had used, but the emotional tension between them was palpable. William stared straight ahead, his small hands resting on the edge of the tub, while Sara watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to break the silence.

Finally, William spoke, his voice barely a whisper, but filled with an emotional charge he hadn't been able to release.

"This is... stranger than I thought it would be," he began, without looking at her. "I thought being a boy would be easy, but now I'm not so sure, not just because of the... the incontinence. It's everything. It's feeling this way, so... weak. I don't know how to be... this." He said, gesturing to practically his entire being.

Sara didn't say anything. She knew William needed to talk, needed to release everything he'd been bottling up inside. So she just listened, sat there, present, as he continued.

"My whole life, I've been a control freak," William continued, his tone a mixture of frustration and sadness. "I've always had the answers, I've always known what to do. But now... now I don't know anything. I don't know how to handle this. I don't know how to be a kid again. I don't know how to let someone else take charge."

"And the worst part," William added, his voice a little shaky, "is that I don't know if I'll ever be who I was again. What if this is permanent? What am I going to do if the police never stop looking? What if I'm never the man I was? What if because of this I can't sell the serum? We're still right where we were before I stole the serum, only with me going to school."

William looked at her for the first time since he started talking, and there was a clear expression of discomfort in his eyes. "To be honest, I don't know if I could ever get used to this life," he murmured, his tone betraying his discomfort. "I'm not used to feeling like this, to needing others, and it hasn't even been 24 hours since I took the serum... I don't even want to imagine what it would be like to live like this for months or even years. High school was bad enough the first time without having to attend a second one while in diapers." William said with annoyance, considering that with recent events, that could be a real possibility. He hated with all his might how different his serum plan was turning out so far.

Sara couldn't help but laugh a little at the intrusive image that popped into her head of her 35-year-old husband in high school wearing a diaper. "Saraaaaa," William complained at what he considered childish behavior on the part of his wife. Deep down, Sara knew it was wrong to laugh at William at this very moment, but that mental image definitely wasn't helping, although Sara's laughter lightened the mood.

"Come on! You have to admit that sounds funny," Sara said, trying not to laugh, but William's annoyed face wasn't helping. "You'd be the most valuable member of the debate club because you never need a bathroom break," Sara said, playfully glancing at her husband. "Ugh, I'd be the most valuable member of a pubescent debate club, diaper or no diaper," William said, allowing a smile to spread across his face, allowing himself to catch a bit of his wife's silly humor.

“Who knows, generations change, maybe the second time around you can be the popular kid in school, ohhh you could even make diapers a trend, can you imagine? A high school in diapers because the great and popular William Kruerk wears them! You’d have hundreds of cheerleaders wanting to change your diaper! But make sure you don’t cheat on me with them, you’re only mine!” Between jokes and silly ideas, Sara approached her husband, putting her arm around him to tickle him like she did with Tina, but Williams squirmed like a fish and pushed her away irritably at his wife’s attempt to hug him while making fun of her hypothetical second puberty.

“I’m serious, Sara! Hahaha, don’t say illogical things, hahahaha.” Despite his reproaches, Sara had completely infected him; the tension in the atmosphere had disappeared as they both laughed carefree after a whole morning of emotional stress.

After a few laughs and more bad jokes from Sara, they both stopped laughing, feeling better. “Look, I don’t know what will happen next, but we’ll have to adapt, okay?” Sara said, pushing the boy a little. “I think it’s still too soon to lose your mind. You said so yourself. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since this all started. So for now, let me help you until you’re back to your age and can be a grumpy old man again. Deal?” Sara asked, extending her pinky towards William. 

“You do realize you’re four months older than me, right?” William replied with complete insensitivity, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me help you or not?” Sara asked, and she was the one rolling her eyes this time. “Okay, it’s a deal.” William joined his pinky with Sara’s, sealing a promise in the most childish way possible.

After their pinkies parted, Sara slowly walked away from William, looking at him with a much calmer expression than before. She knew there wasn't much she could do in this situation, but there was one thing she could help him with, and she was determined to do it.

"You know," she began, her tone gentle, "I know I can't help you with everything you're going through. I can't make Daniel respond, nor can I know how long it will be before it's safe to use the antidote. But there is one thing I can help you with."

William looked up slightly, his eyes still filled with disbelief and a small spark of curiosity. "What about?" he asked, his voice sounding more like that of a tired child.

"With your bathroom problem," Sara said, her tone trying to sound practical. "If you can't sense when you need to go, we can try to get ahead of the problem. I can set an alarm on my smartwatch for every hour. When it goes off, I'll remind you to go to the bathroom and sit for a few minutes. That way, even if you don't feel the need, at least you'll be emptying your bladder before it's too late."

William looked at her with an expression of disbelief. On the one hand, the idea seemed unacceptable to him, as if he were accepting being treated like a child being potty-trained. But on the other hand, he couldn't deny that it was a possible solution, a way to prevent more accidents like the one he'd just suffered.

"That's... the worst idea I've ever heard," he finally said. "I'm not a baby, Sara. I don't need you to remind me to go to the bathroom."

Sara looked at him with an expression that was both sympathetic and a little exasperated. "William, this isn't about you being a baby, it's about helping you avoid more situations like today's. Wouldn't it be much more humiliating if what happened today happened to you when we go out on the town or if we have guests over?"

William looked down. He knew Sara was right, but admitting it was another matter. "I guess… I'd hate for Tina to find out, too," he murmured, his tone betraying concern. "I don't want her to know that... that I have trouble using the bathroom."

Sara looked at him sympathetically. To her, Tina was a child who, although she sometimes argued with her father, had always admired him. She couldn't imagine her daughter enjoying the idea of William being inferior. Although she understood William's discomfort at the idea of his daughter knowing about his incontinence. "I don't think Tina would make fun of you, William," she said finally. "She loves you. She'll just have to... adjust to the situation, like all of us."

William didn't respond immediately. He knew Sara didn't fully understand Tina's intentions. To her, her daughter was a child who, though stubborn, had always viewed her father as a figure of authority and respect. But William had seen firsthand that morning how his daughter reveled in the idea of being "older" than her father. If a few inches had given his daughter that feeling of superiority, William wasn't sure he wanted to know how his daughter would feel about his toilet issues.

"Tina can't know," William said in a tone that made it clear the topic was off the table. "I won't let my daughter have such a… pathetic image of me."

"Okay," Sara replied, respecting William's wishes. "We'll do it secretly, just you and me. No one else has to know."

William didn't reply, but nodded, allowing Sara to help him up and leaving the bathroom together.

William entered his office with a quick stride, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He wanted to get away from the sound of the washing machine rumbling in the background, washing the clothes he'd played soccer in that morning. Every sound of the machine was a reminder of what had happened, of the humiliation that still burned inside him. He grabbed a random book from his shelf, one of those scientific texts he used to devour in his previous life, and sat down in his chair, trying to immerse himself in the pages. But the words failed to capture his attention. His mind kept racing around what had happened, the conversation with Sara, the alarm that would go off any moment to remind him to go to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Sara busily cleaned the house once more. She knew William needed his space, and she also knew there was a mess that needed cleaning. The small pee stains left on the floor when she led her husband to the bathroom. With a damp cloth and some disinfectant, Sara got to work, carefully wiping away each stain, making sure not a trace remained.

The hours passed slowly. At noon, the couple ate lunch together in silence, exchanging few words but sharing a peaceful meal. Sara returned to her chores, and William returned to his office, trying to distract himself with his books and his thoughts.

At 1 p.m., as scheduled, Sara's smartwatch alarm went off and began to vibrate. William was in his office; he'd been stuck on the same line of the latest research report on Familial Spastic Paraparesis for the past 15 minutes, rereading it, trying to keep his boredom from interfering with his understanding of what was being said, but without much success. There was a knock, and Sara appeared in his office door. "It's time, William," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

William didn't protest this time. He knew it was useless. With a resigned sigh, he got up from his chair and followed Sara to the bathroom. This time, the process was faster, more efficient. William managed to use the bathroom correctly, thanks to Sara's reminder. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Sara smiled with relief, knowing her idea would work.

The afternoon continued normally, or at least as normally as they could manage in that situation. William spent most of the time in his office, while Sara, who had finished the housework, enjoyed one of her guilty pleasures: a romantic comedy in which the protagonists were turned into goblins and had to search for a cure, unaware that they had found love along the way.

But time went on and 3 pm arrived.

"Mom, I'm home!" Tina yelled from the front door, announcing her arrival with the energy of a 10-year-old excited that another week of school was over.

At that moment, Sara was in the bathroom with William, accompanying the boy who was sitting on the toilet after the alarm went off again. Tina's scream caught them by surprise. William jumped, feeling panic rising in him. "She can't see me like this."

Sara, without losing her calm, took control of the situation. With a serene but authoritative tone, she approached the door and said, "Don't move. Wait here until I get back."

William looked at her, confused by the tone of his wife's voice. It wasn't the soft, understanding tone he was used to. It was firm, almost like an order. And, for some reason he couldn't explain, William felt he had no choice but to obey.

Sara stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. "Tina, honey! Welcome home!" Sara said, her tone cheerful but none of the tension in her voice betrayed.

Meanwhile, William sat there, feeling time drag on forever. His mind was in turmoil. On one hand, he knew he didn't have to stay there, that he could get up and leave the bathroom at any time. But on the other hand, Sara's words echoed in his mind: "Don't move. Wait here."

It was as if, after everything that had happened that day, after the accidents, after Sara's constant help, the feeling of dependency was consuming him. Something deep in the back of his mind had begun to view Sara as some kind of authority figure.

The minutes passed slowly. William sat, staring at the bathroom door, waiting for Sara to return. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching. The door opened softly, and Sara appeared, her expression confused as she saw her husband still sitting on the toilet.

"William, why are you still sitting?" Sara asked, sounding curious.

William looked at her, feeling frustration and embarrassment mixing in his chest. "You told me not to move," he said, his tone both annoyed and confused. "You said to wait here. And you took so long to come back."

"Come on, I'll help you get dressed." She walked over to William and, with careful movements, helped him get up from the toilet. William held onto her shoulders. It was a strange, almost surreal feeling, but he wasn't fighting it as much anymore.

Sara knelt in front of him, taking hold of the pants that had been left around his ankles. With smooth but efficient movements, she pulled them up, making sure they fit snugly around his hips. As she did so, she noticed that the toilet showed no signs of having been used.

"Well," she said, her tone both gentle and concerned, "no accomplishments to report, are there?" Sara winked at the same time that William's face colored, forcing him to look away with a frown.

"No," he responded quickly and sharply, intending not to continue this conversation.

“You’ll make it next time,” Sara said, kissing the cheek of the unsuspecting boy who, in one of his less adult moments of the day, proceeded to wipe his cheek with his shirtsleeve and walked away from his wife, annoyed.

Sara couldn't help but smile at how easy it was to make her husband blush these days, before following him out the door and out of the bathroom together.

Sara followed him back to his office, making sure Tina didn't see. "Just relax, I'll take care of Tina, and join us whenever you want."

With a last sigh, he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of peace before the next alarm sounded.