Come on, Amy. You can do this. It's just one leg over the bar. Fuck if you get hurt. If you do, you can walk it off. It's not far down enough to the point where I'd end up breaking something. At most, it'd be a sprain or something of the like. And I could walk that off. I've done it a time or two before. I could do it again. I just need to get out of bed. I say bed…This isn't a bed. It's a fucking overgrown crib. But still, I needed to get out of here and I needed to do it as soon as humanly possible.
I'm not Oliver's baby. Then again, I don't know who my biological father is. It might actually be Oliver. But I doubt it. I just needed to know. I'm sure he knows who my biological parents are. But where would that information be kept? We weren't in Oliver's house anymore. This was his cottage. It'd be nice to have a general layout of the house in my head, but unfortunately, Amy isn't allowed nice things. But she can give herself one nice thing. And that's getting the fuck out of this crib.
"Amelia…" I heard Oliver yell from down the hall, "Whatever you're trying to do, you stay right where you are!"
How in the fuck did he know…? Witchcraft. It had to be. Or something else. I just wanted to get out of this room. Was that too much to ask? According to Oliver, yes. That is, in fact, too much to ask. But I didn't need to upset him. He's already drugged me with no problems. Granted, it was chloroform, but the fact that he knew how to make it scared the shit out of me. But then, it dawned on me. Oliver told me exactly how he did it.
If he can chloroform me, then what's stopping me from returning the favor? I just needed to know where he kept the bleach and the rubbing alcohol in this place. Likely the laundry room. If this cottage even had a laundry room. I'm sure it didn't have a specific ratio. Just a little of each should do it. Soak some kind of cloth with it and hold it over his mouth and nose. I should be fine.
"Amelia," Oliver came into the room and walked right up to the edge of the crib, "I'm going to take you out of the bed again. The same rules as before apply, but this time, we're also going to be leaving this room. You'd be wise not to run off on me. We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt, would we?"
"What do you mean?" I started to sweat. A little more than I have been.
"Oh, my dear," he scooped me into his arms and held me tight, "I love you. And you know I'd do anything for you in the name of keeping you safe. And I can't trust you to keep yourself safe on your own anymore. But that's why we're here, isn't it? Because you're my baby and I want to keep you out of harm's way as much as I can."
"No," I shot him down, "Oliver…This isn't right."
"What do you mean?" Oliver chuckled to himself, "Of course it is. I think your head is still fuzzy from the chloroform. I'm sure it'll go away."
"No," I stood my ground, still trying to be gentle with him, "Oliver, don't get me wrong. I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me, but I'm not supposed to be kept like this. I should be able to do things for myself. I should be able to walk wherever you're taking me. Feeding myself. Being able to use the bathroom. Just little basic things. I'm not…"
"Enough!" he snapped, scaring the shit out of me, "You sound just like he did. Well…I'm not making the same mistake twice. I'm not going to let you slip through my fingers like he did. You're going to behave yourself or we are going to have problems. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I wasn't going to fight him. In all honesty, I was genuinely scared. This wasn't the same Oliver I met the night of my big fight with Reid. This was scary. This was the same Oliver that Allen and Matt and even Francois warned me about. And I should've listened.
"Good," Oliver relaxed a little, getting a better hold on me, "All you need is a little guidance, Amelia. And who better to protect you from the cruelty of this world than me? Is it so bad to love you?"
There's such a thing as being overbearing, but I had a feeling if I were to say that out loud, I'd find out how much worse things could get for me. Oliver did say to behave myself. For now, that's exactly what I'd do. I don't know what's going to come next, but I'd rather this went smoothly. I'll find out what he's trying to accomplish by keeping me and plan accordingly from there.
As he walked me down the hall, I made note of where the doors were. However, I wasn't going to see much. Oliver brought me from the bedroom to the bathroom down the hall. He said this was his cottage, so there's only one story. It was just Oliver's house in a smaller version. The same look of someone had shit a doily in here, too. I need to find a way out of here. I'm sure this won't be the only place Oliver takes me.
Although, the bathtub looked awfully inviting. It's not like I was going to get a say in it anyway. I'd soon find out what that bathtub felt like. Slowly and gently, Oliver helped me get undressed and put me down in the water. Ok. This was nice. It wasn't much different from baths in Oliver's bathtub, but something was a little off. But this was comfortable. The warmth from the water put me at ease and relaxed all my muscles on contact.
"There," Oliver gave himself a pat on the back, "How's that?"
"It's not the same as yours," I admitted.
"I know," he cradled my cheek in the palm of his hand, "We needed to get away from the house anyway. I've been thinking about this trip for a while now and I wanted to plan it with you. However, certain things fell into place and…Well, it turned into a happy surprise instead. Surprises are much more fun anyway. Speaking of surprises, wait until you see what I packed for you. If we're being honest, I loved packing your suitcase. You'll be so cute. I promise."
"I can only imagine." Visions of pastel nightmares danced in my head. More of Oliver making me look like a complete fucking cupcake with all the sprinkles on it.
"Amelia…" Oliver's voice took an odd turn. Like he fought yelling at me tooth and nail. He's barely holding it together, "You don't need to sass me. I don't want to punish you, darling. An open palm on wet skin is likely unpleasant."
"It is, if you do it right." Dammit. Why does my mouth have to operate faster than my brain sometimes? And always at the WORST times. Immediately, I shut my mouth, pretending that didn't happen.
"What was that?" I think he might have heard it. Shit.
"Nothing."
"That's right," Oliver brushed it off. Although, I did have some flashbacks to the earlier days of my relationship with Reid. Those were good days. Those were days when his crazy and my crazy were the same batshit level. Before I settled down. Damn, those days were fun. Especially when we'd have date nights with a very happy ending. Or as I like to call it, how I know what a smack to the wet ass feels like when it's done right. Mmm…
When I got out of the bathtub, Oliver picked me up and laid me on a towel, drying me off to the best of his ability. This was beyond humiliating, but I was already on a short leash. And back in a diaper. Where the fuck did my dignity go? Because I'm pretty sure it's MIA at this point. And to make matters even worse, show of hands, who got footie pajamas? No one? Just me? Ok, great. In case people were curious, they had bunnies on them, too. I might have to go back through a slutty phase just to restore balance to the universe.
"I'll get you dressed later," Oliver assured, his hand on my belly, "But these are so cute. They'll do for now."
"What's later?" I wondered, mourning the loss of my pride.
"My friends I told you about from the last party I threw," he explained, sitting me up in his lap, "They're going to come over here. And they'll all be here. No proxies allowed."
"Oh." That's too bad. It would've been nice if I got to see Ivan again. He'd be able to get out my distress signal to at least Alfred, if not Alfred and Allen. I sat quiet and still as Oliver ran a brush through my wet hair. I didn't like this. I didn't like this at all. Normally, I didn't have a problem with someone else brushing my hair. In fact, it was kind of relaxing. But this? This wasn't the ok context.
"It's alright, Amelia," Oliver promised, "They do have a soft spot for you."
Particularly Flavio. I didn't have a problem when he made me his doll the other night. That was kind of fun. Unlike Oliver, Flavio would treat me like an adult. And I loved him for it. It made me curious, though. If all of Oliver's friends are coming here, does that mean Francois, too? A girl can hope, right? If Francois comes, then I'm sure he'll get me out of here. Silver linings. But I doubt Francois got the invitation. Although…There is one that Oliver isn't banking on. He has no idea that Flavio and I were in contact the other night. He made me all cute when I got drunk with Allen. And he is cousins with Francois. I'm sure they talk. I may be saved yet!
Oliver picked me up from the floor and brought me back into the bedroom, gently putting me down in the chair instead of the crib. Yes! A chance to explore! Maybe I can find a way out now, "Alright, Amelia. You're going to stay in here until I come back to get you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Oliver…"
"Do you think you could indulge me for a moment, love?" Oliver requested, "I promise it's nothing too strenuous."
"Depends…" I wasn't sure where he was taking this. Given where everything else has gone in the last twenty-four hours, I'm pretty sure that I had every right to be skeptical.
"Just once," he asked, "Could you call me Papa?"
"No." Entertaining the idea wasn't even going to happen.
"Alright," Oliver backed off, "I see this is going to be a process. Now, I want you to stay right here until I come back to get you. Not that you can really go anywhere else. I shouldn't be long, but our first guest should be here shortly and I need to have a word with him alone."
"Fine." He didn't need to know that I was going to figure out a way to escape. Dammit, why did Allen have to be right? Why did Francois have to be right? Why did I have to be so very wrong? Regardless, Oliver left me in my new bedroom and shut the door behind him.
It'd be stupid of me to try, but it'd be even stupider of me not to. I got up from the chair and checked the doorknob. Sure enough, locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Shit. There goes the obvious choice. But maybe…Maybe the windows? I pushed the sheer curtains aside and pulled up the blinds. Nope. They're definitely sealed from the outside. Well, fuck. How the hell was I going to get out of here? I could always ram the door, I guess, but I didn't have that kind of physical strength.
A bright red light flashed under the crib. Well…Isn't that a peculiar thing? I got on my belly and looked under the bed. So, that's how Oliver knew when I was moving around in here. I didn't think he'd go as far as to put a fucking baby monitor under the bed. It got me thinking, though. How long has he had a baby monitor under my bed? Because I always thought it was strange how he had such perfect timing when I'd wake up in the morning. How long has he had a baby monitor on me? And if he has a baby monitor on me now, I had no doubt in my mind that he had some nanny cams somewhere, too.
Let's see. There were stuffed animals all over the place in here. How many pairs of eyes did Oliver have in here? Just to be safe, I covered all of them with any blankets I could find. I'm terrified to think that what was intended to be something soft and squishy and lovable is actually watching me. They were all kind of creepy anyway. Is this where my life is? Keeping stuffed animals from watching me and my psychotic roommate treating me like an actual baby? What the fuck has happened to me? And what was going to happen to me now?
