Tale #33: He Who Holds the Hatchet

Tale #33: He Who Holds the Hatchet (Part 7 to 'As Before, Now Again) (Content Tags: Messy diapers, ongoing story, brainwashing, hypnotism) Dr. Farren curled the phone cord around her finger, "Mmhmm, mmhmm...Wetting his pants, huh? Well, with Tucker's anxiety disorder, some toileting problems are to be expected. It may get worse before it gets better. My recommendation? Well, I would suggest protection in the meantime..." The woman nodded her head at the lady on the other line, feeling happy to hear that her newest pet project was going well. "..Yes, it isn't what the medical community would refer to them as, but colloquially, I do think diapers would be best. I can send a prescription to the pharmacy for you, I'm willing to bet that your insurance provider will cover it." It was just too easy. She'd seen such success with Matty, that she simply couldn't restrain herself to give some of her other problematic patients the same treatment. Not exactly the same, of course; Tucker was an annoying, nervous wreck, but he wasn't a terrible bully like Mathew was. "Hm? Yes, let me know if anything changes. I'll see you and Tucker next week at our next session." The doctor hung up the phone and pulled a prescription pad from her desk. She didn't plan to do something like this for *all* her patients, just the ones where she thought they could see some benefit from a little 'regression therapy'. Out of the twenty or so kids that she had as clients, it'd probably only be another two or three that would be worthy candidates. Maybe four. She tore the sheet from the pad and went to go give it to her receptionist. The doctor gazed upon her empty waiting room and then looked at the clock on the wall; she still had an hour before her next appointment. The woman grabbed her purse and let her receptionist know that she was stepping out for lunch, and to take any messages that might come. She either needed to get some fresh air and clear her head, or consider what her next step was going to be with her primary current obsession: destroying Mathew. Meanwhile, Mathew was at school. The boy was nearing the last stretch of a long day, and he just wanted to go home. He played with his pencil, eyes darting between the top of his desk and the little clock on the corner of the room; he was just counting down the minutes. In the back of the room sat Bryce. Bryce Farren. The same Bryce he'd been friends with years ago, before he'd thrown the boy under the bus in order to secure his own popularity, before he'd stopped having accidents the first time. It was also the same Bryce that happened to be the son of his current therapist. While that much was true, Matt hardly ever had Bryce pass through his mind. They had a storied history together that had turned dark, and Bryce's mother was Matty's therapist, but he rarely actually thought about Bryce himself. There wasn't much purpose in bullying him how, since that cow had been milked dry in elementary school, and now that they were in junior high, Matty basically ignored his existence altogether. One could see that as callous, but another interpretation might be that deep down, Mathew really did hold onto guilt over what he'd done to his former friend, and it was a defense mechanism to disallow any intrusive thoughts about him. On Bryce's end, the hurting left by Mathew's actions had never really left. Those scars may not be bleeding, but they hadn't completely healed over either. He had moved on in many ways, not that his mother could see that, but seeing Matt always brought up at least a dull pain in his soul. Bryce hadn't found out that his mother was acting as the bully's court-mandated therapist until recently, after he'd already had a couple of sessions with her. He'd personally questioned why she'd taken on such a client, since she had taught him about 'conflicts of interest' long ago, but he hadn't actually asked her directly. Instead, she'd ask him questions about Matt and how he was doing at school, and Bryce would just give honest answers. He'd been in the cafeteria when the bully had messed his pants, not that Mathew would readily admit that's what really happened, and while he'd felt secondhand embarrassment for him, he'd also felt a touch of recompense. There was a particular bliss of balance, to watch his former friend get a dose of karmic justice. That sensation of payback, even if not from him, had then stirred up all sorts of conflicting emotions, and Bryce still wasn't sure how he should feel about things. Resentment was still harbored from what Mathew had done, but there was also a longing for a rekindling of a friendship that had long been reduced to ashes. It was a matter of two wolves, and Bryce's heart told him that he should feed both, therefore rendering a decision truly impossible to make. Should he reach out with the gentle hand of human kindness, or should he give into his equally human spite? What did he really want, revenge or reconnection? Ever since those therapy sessions had begun, Mathew had started to act more and more different. He wasn't as loud and crude, nor was he acting confrontational and cruel. He'd withdrawn into himself; he'd become more passive and quiet, perhaps even one could say, more sensitive. With all these positive permutations, the bully deserved to be rewarded, didn't he? If Matt could really change, then maybe Bryce should bury the hatchet that had been lodged in his own back for all these years. Like his mother always said, it was always best to be the bigger man. The bell rung, and kids began to hastily retreat from the classroom; there was excited fervor all around, but Matt just casually collected his things and stood up from his desk. Bryce watched him walk out of the class too, though not grouping himself with anyone else. After a minute of self-doubt, Bryce got up and began to quietly trail him. It'd be too personal of an affair to confront him in the hallway, in this fully occupied public space. No, the best place would be on the walk home, once he could get Matt one-on-one and really hash things out. His own house wasn't really in the same direction, but his mom would get off work in an hour or so, and he could just call her for a ride. Bryce kept an appropriate space between the two of them, since he didn't want to make it obvious that he was following Matt just yet. He kept his eyes on the taller lad, going over in his head what he might say, and how Matt might respond. Bryce felt optimistic about this, not just because Matt had seemed to soften, but because his social standing had done the same. Rumors were still swirling around about him soiling himself, and some even claiming that he wore diapers now, like some kid in the slow classes might. Bryce didn't take much stock in the second one, since it sounded farfetched for a middle schooler to be wearing diapers, even when considering Matty's prior potty problems. These rumors, true or not, meant trouble for Matt's credibility and reputation, so surely he'd be happy to have someone in his corner! Once they'd escaped the immediate perimeter of the school, Bryce decided it was time to make his move. The bully had briefly stopped to respond to a text, and Bryce had taken advantage of that to catch up. "Uhh, hey Matt, how's it going? Been a while since we talked..." The boy sheepishly greeted, hands in his pockets. Mathew looked up from his phone and gave Bryce a blank stare, as if totally perplexed why the dork was trying to talk to him. In that confusion was a grimace that betrayed how uncomfortable this really was to see him, to talk to him. "...Why are you talking to me?" Mathew plainly asked, not sounding enthused about it, and in fact sounding somewhat annoyed by the unwanted intrusion. It was Bryce's turn to be taken aback, the script of how he thought this would go was already off the rails and it left him scrambling to adjust. "O-oh, well...I just thought that--" "Thought *what*? That you were in the mood for a wedgie or something?" This was already more aggressive than Bryce had bargained for and he lifted his palms up in front of him, "N-no, no..! I just...You seem like...I thought you might need a friend, y'know?" Matt just stared, still looking irritable, but at least giving the dorky boy enough time to bare his intentions. "...I know you have a lot of, like, really cool friends and stuff these days, but...I also know that they haven't been talking to you as much, because of all that stuff people are talking about, and I know we haven't been friends since third grade, but maybe you could use someone who won't care about some stupid rumors.." Bryce was really pouring his heart out; it was unrefined, raw, and blathering, but it was real. Clear, azurin pools of sincerity, reaching out. He'd pulled the ax from his back and was presenting it to the one that had stuck it there in the first place; he was offering to give it final burial rites, together. Matty looked surprised by the honest heart; that spark of remorse still flickered, and with all that had happened to him lately, he looked like he might be ready to apologize for all he'd done to Bryce in the past. "Bryce...I..." The boy started, bashfully putting his hand behind his head. Before he could get any further, the two were interrupted by a group of goons; it was the same kind of crowd that Matt had been running with these days. They weren't friends of any real value, but Matt treasured their approval. "What are you doing with this loser?" One of them asked, giving a disapproving look. Matt clenched his fist, but he didn't defend his former friend with it. No, he took the hatchet right out of Bryce's trusting hands, and decided to swing right into the boy's back once more. "Him? I was just getting a 'donation' for the needy kids fund." Matt balked, raising his balled up fist at Bryce and using the other to demand payment. "What, you think I'd talk to a wuss like him otherwise?" The other boys laughed and continued along, "Well, once you got his charity, come meet us down at the pier. We're gonna get up to some mayhem." Relief washed over Matt as the brutes left, but his hand was still raised at Bryce. "..Alright, man, just cough up some bills and make it snappy. I can't be seen in public talking to you." Hurt once again enveloped Bryce's heart. He'd thought that maybe Matt was turning over a new leaf, but he was just as selfish and pathetic as ever! He'd put himself completely out there, trying to be there in Matt's time of need, and the bully had spat in the face of his kindness. He narrowed his eyes at Matty and shook his head. "No. I'm done trying to help you. Apparently therapy hasn't done anything to change you, so I don't think I can change you either. You're just rotten." Matthew paused, genuinely hurt on some level by what was being levied against him. That guilt from long ago, it was bubbling back to the surface, and his fist trembled as much as his lip. "Y-yeah?! Well, I didn't ask for your stupid help! Now give me your money, or I'm going to take it from you!" The bully went to thrust his fist forward, but he was stopped by the immense pressure he suddenly felt in his gut. After having already dealt with this before, he knew exactly what was about to happen. There was no way of stopping it either. He doubled over in front of Bryce and clutched his stomach, "N-noo...not now.." The larger boy groaned, only serving to confuse Bryce as to what was going on. A loud burbling from the bully's pants cleared things up and made it more obvious. Bryce watched on, gob smacked, as the 'tough kid' began to crap his pants right in front of him. The noises of defecation didn't cease, only growing more exaggerated and comedic, contrasting with the strained expression that Matt had while in the act. Matthew could be glad that he was in real diapers this time too, since they'd have the durability to resist the tidal wave of sludge that he was bringing forth. Bryce's surprise turned briefly to sympathy, but that sympathy itself transformed into a disgusted ire. Mathew was falling into old habits, and he still thought of himself as too good for Bryce's friendship? "I guess old habits die hard, huh? I guess you won't be as popular as Matty the pantspooper, will you?" Bryce snarled. "I hope everyone finds out and treats you just the way you deserve, and when they do, don't try to come crawling back to me." Matt was too busy to respond, but being bent over, and with his pants now sagging lower with the heaviness of the poop in them, the top waistband of his diaper was poking out. Bryce took notice and let pit a cruel chuckle. "...Things are bad enough to get the diapers back out, huh?" He fished his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture, "Y'know, maybe its time I took your lead. You spread rumors about me, why don't I return the favor?" Bryce had come here to bury the hatchet that had been embedded in his back all these years, but now that his offering had been pushed away, perhaps it was time to instead bury the hatchet in Matty instead.