He stood there, in the doorway of the apartment. Arms folded over his chest, an unimpressed scowl taking over his features. Making Peter shrink back, one of his converse sneakers squeaking across the floor within the movement. Causing the man in front of him more irritation, one eye twitching as to show how much the noise aggravated him.

"Hello, Peter." Madon greeted. Smiling coyly. Stepping aside to have the young lad step through.

Peter didn't say a word, with his head bowed down. Hands gripping his backpack straps, he made his way in. Flinching as the door is slammed shut, not like sudden loud noises. Or loud noises in general.

"Your Aunt went to work early. She won't be back till probably, later tonight. You should be asleep by then, little boy" Mason mocked. Chuckling as he went to the kitchen.

This is why he hated being alone with Mason. The teasing and emotionally hurtful words hitting him like a tsunami. Dragging him under, making him feel like he's drowning with no way to breathe.

Physically, he can breathe. But emotionally, it made him feel like he's suffocating.

"I'm cooking tonight. And you better eat it all, I don't cook for it to go to waste. Understand?"

It's not because Peter liked to waste food. In fact, its solemnly because Mason simply can't cook. Sure the man can make eggs and warm up foods in the microwave. But that's as far as it usually goes. Not unless the man tries to be adventurous and cook something like a lasagne or a bolognese. The only thing Mason could cook, that is to do with pasta. Is either, pasta in tomato sauce, or tuna pasta.

It's easy, it's simple and efficient.

Peter's only response is to nod. Attempting to make his way to his room, however, got stopped by a stern hand on his shoulder.

"Bag in your room, then come straight back. We're gonna watch some TV together, it will be fun,"

Although, Peter didn't believe it would be fun. It never is fun with Mason around. And he is right so to believe it wouldn't be fun. For as soon as he came back, he saw Mason sat on the sofa. A smirk playing on his lips as a kids programme played on the TV screen, it being a show easily recognised as Fireman Sam.

The hero next door.

Even if he was the hero next door, he never came to save him from Mason. Yet, Sam is a fictional character.

When he was younger he remembers watching this, even asking his next-door neighbour if he was a fireman. Only for the guy to be a boring teacher.

Now, now he really shouldn't care about fireman sam. But something inside of him wanted him to bounce and clamp as the theme song played. Signifying another episode starting up.

"Come, sit down," Mason ordered, patting the empty seat next to him. The pasta boiling in a pan for dinner.

This is bait, it's mockery and abuse.

Peter shouldn't accept the order. All it took is one stern look from Mason, and he found himself sat next to the man. Huddled in the corner, knees are drawn to his chest as the episode began to play.

Peter is soon absorbed in the show about the fireman. So much so, he didn't notice his surroundings. Not even refusing the water given to him, nor noticing the cup it is placed in.

Although, it isn't till a few episodes had passed. Mason called Peter for dinner, did the boy come to terms with what he held in his hands. A sippy cup. The frown on his face is caught by Mason, not quick enough to change his facial expression.

"You better fix your face this instant. Your Aunt bought you that, there's no use in not using it. It's bad enough that you'll need it full time soon, along with all the other ridiculous baby stuff. That, by the way. We don't have money for."

Peter immediately felt very guilty.

It isn't Mason's fault that he's a little. That one day, he'll become completely dependant on those around him. Hence when his sippy cup is refilled with juice, he doesn't hesitate to gulp it down.

It also didn't help his case, with Mason knowing his favourite drink. Pineapple and mango juice.

"Now open up," the man spoke in an attempting soft voice, which still held an ounce of gruffiness.

"Can feed me," Peter replied, hiding behind his sippy cup slightly.

"I said open!" Mason roars, quickly losing his temper. Peter hurriedly complying, trying not to cry. His sobs being quietened by Mason force-feeding him, until the bowl is scraped clean.

How would he survive when this becomes his life full time?

"Is it yummy for the little baby?" Mason snorts to himself. Holding a plastic spoonful of food out to the boy's lips. "If Petey eats all his nummies, he can have a little treat."

Peter's face is absolutely enflamed. He's never felt such embarrassment, not even when Flash goes into one of his rants. About everything he seems to be doing wrong in life. Sitting here, getting pasta sauce smeared across his face. All while being baby talked to. It's the worst feeling Peter has ever had to endure, so far in his fifteen years of existence.

Once, Mason completely missed his mouth on purpose. Winding up with him having noodles down his front and his shirt.

That's when Peter had finally had enough.

"Stop!" The boy shouts, shoving his head away from the offending spoon.

"You don't have a right to yell at me." The man had gone from cooing and patronizing, to dark and angry in a matter of nanoseconds. "Your a little. You're going to be needing to be looked after. I am NOT your caregiver, yet I help you change your disgusting wet sheets and feed you. If it wasn't for me, you'd be cold and hungry. Waiting for Aunt May to come home," Mason is now breathing heavily at this point.

The dark-haired male jumped to his feet. "She is busy!" Mason screams, practically in Peter's face. "She is too busy to have to worry about you and your pathetic needs because you're becoming invalid. A bother."

Peter knows that every word spoken rings truth. It still hurt to hear, no matter how many times he's been told and who by.

He now realises how annoying and selfish he can be - presumably - when it comes to his Aunt's love and attention.

Knowing that he's a little, is probably the worst news she's ever received since Uncle Ben's death. But there's nothing he can do about that now. The only thing he can change is his attitude. Try to be as independent as possible.

If it is only that easy.

The letter the family had gotten a week after the testing, congratulating them. Had stated there is no way to accurately determine a little's headspace. Only knowing the regressed age on the first proper and natural regression.

Littles in the past, have ranged from young children to six months. Peter's test had strongly suggested that he'll be around the one to two headspaces. But that was only a short test, and it's suggested to change at any time.

Some reports have even stated, that a few little's can have an age range as large as one to six years. Everything goes into a little age, and it's hard at first to determine it at first.

"I'm sorry," Peter apologises. Feeling defeated. All fight leaving him. "Can you feed more, please?"

"See?" Mason deflates with an eas smile. "I know you can be a good boy, but that doesn't mean I'll let you get away with such a poor attitude."

After the meal is complete, Peter found himself at his desk in his room. Several sheets of paper sprayed in front of him. Not to leave until every available space is filled with the sentence;

'I will do everything possible, as to not become a bother to Mason and Aunt May. They deserve a happy life, without the drama of a naughty little boy ruining everything'

Peter lets the words sink in, not even minding the constant checking up Mason does. Until he's left to finish with one of the man's many words of wisdom.

"I know you can continue to be good, Peter. May and I would just hate to have to send you to a little's orphanage if you turn out to be too much for us to handle"

~

A burden.
Is that really what Aunt May and Mason thought of him?
Nothing but an ache in the backside.

It hurt to realise even his Aunt would think her nephew a weight on her shoulders. Working so they could eat, wear clothes and have some of the small luxuries in life.

If only he could get a job, although May said he doesn't have to have one. To concentrate on his schooling and internship.

Which, how could he concentrate when he's around someone like Mason. Who bullies him, messing with him and mocking his little side.

It hurt his little side mentally and emotionally, his head contradicting his big boy side and little boy side.

One moment having the heavy feeling to cry, and the next to shout and accuse the man of abusing him.

But, he knew even when big. He just wanted to break down in tears.
Life is so unfair.

Peter laid on his back in his bed. Pyjamas being a vest and boxer shorts. Arms folded behind his head, as he looked up at the ceiling and dwell on what just happened to him half an hour ago.

The TV show wasn't bad, nor was the sippy cup or being fed. He liked it, in the way his little side enjoyed the attention.

However, it's the wrong way to enjoy such. Mason is pushing it on him, forcing things on him without his consent. He didn't want any of this, of the man making him feel so useless.
He didn't want any of it.

Even more so by the man who's always hurting and putting him down.