Innocence

Things since that night have been anything but normal for Zim. He was in the middle of unlacing his boots when he blinked, catching himself falling away from reality, and back to his past experiences. The first time regressing freely is always awkward, whether someone's alone or not, and when they are, they always have to look over their shoulder. If only Zim could just be open about this. Zim sighed and ran his fingers through his smooth black hair, pulling the lace of his boot undone. No...the band would never stop mocking him about it. They could never find out.

After a bit of careful undressing, Zim was now nude and completely calm. He picked up the diaper setting on the soft hotel bed. At that moment, it was like all of his emotions rose up, and breached the surface of his heart. He felt nervous, scared, and guilty, but at the same time, happy, and excited. He carefully unfolded the soft material, and with every crinkle that was heard, he seemed to grow more and more eager. Zim bit his lip when it was open, and laid it out before him.

The moment the softness came in contact with his skin, it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His stress was rapidly diminishing as he sprinkled his groin with a few silky smooth puffs of baby powder, and pulled the thick material up snug between his legs. Two tapes secured on both sides, leaving Zimmy clean and very babyish.

"I'm a real baby," he thought with a smile. He rose to his knees and quietly examined the padding encasing his pale bottom. It felt lovely and made his tummy flutter with butterflies. With a happy sigh, he gave his own butt a pat for comfort and went back to his suitcase. He retrieved his teddy bear, plastic keys, and pacifier. Now was the time to just unwind and play like the little baby he was. "I wuv you, Teddy," he cooed sweetly, hugging the golden brown bear to his chest.

Zim lay back in bed and babbled senselessly behind his pacifier, shaking the colorful plastic keys with amusement. "Wed," he softly said to no one in particular. He then giggled and pointed to the yellow key. In the midst of his mind right now, he was still learning colors and shapes. He wiggled and grabbed at his feet, thinking of wonderful, babyish things. The green eyes that were once dulled and plagued with sadness, were now big and filled with joy and innocent wonder.

He sweetly crawled with a gentle waddle, and roamed around the large bed, still cooing and babbling with intrigue. What was a guitar, again? Who was Marilyn Manson? It all didn't matter right now. Zim squeaked as he carefully made his way to his teddy resting against the pillows. "Ted...deh," he began to struggle with his words as he became more and more regressed. He snatched the soft toy up and cuddled it with a giggle. Mr. Teddy had a loving smile sewn onto his face. It was like he knew all about Zim's little secret, and it was okay with him. He promised to protect him and be his friend no matter what.

The diapered guitarist rose up to his knees and turned his head, noticing the mirror mounted on the dresser across the room. He saw his reflection and blushed a little. He looked so small and helpless. He really did feel like he was meant to be this way. "I want to be a baby forever," his adult self thought. No more stress, no more responsibilities, it would be perfect. Suddenly, an urgent, familiar feeling made him lose track of thought. The feeling made a soft shade of pink creep up his cheeks. Zim wiggled uncomfortably and slightly whined. He pouted and looked at his teddy, puzzled.

Zim needed to relieve himself.

It had been quite a while since he last did, sometime before the concert. He was finding it hard to hold it any longer. Before he allowed himself to slip back into panic, he laid back down to the bed, closed his eyes, and spread his legs. Gentle sucking sounds were heard in sync with the pacifier's soft bobbing up and down to the suction of his lips. That was a pacifier's intended usage, to soothe a baby's fussing. Zim looked quite precious as this went on to help relax himself. After a few seconds, a soft hissing sounded, as he allowed himself to flood his thick diaper.

"This is what diaper's are for," he told his subconscious, "Don't be ashamed." He opened his eyes for a moment, beginning to squirm and wiggle quite helplessly as he finished urinating. Poor Zimmy pouted and examined the swollen crotch of his diaper. He was now absolutely soaked. He huffed a little, "I kind of wish I had someone to change me," he whispered to himself.

Just then, things took a turn for the worst, and Zim found his heart thumping in his throat like a jackhammer, as an unexpected knock sounded at the door. "Zim? you in there?" A voice came from just outside, "It's Manson, I was kinda hoping to talk." There were no words that came out of Zim's mouth, as he was frozen, petrified with embarrassment. He wanted to close his eyes and disappear forever. "Oh, no no no no no! This can't be happening!" his brain scattered curse words to and fro around his mind. Manson knocked again, "Zim, I know you're in there, I can hear your breathing," he sighed.

"Dude, come on, you sound like you're having another anxiety attack in there, I'm worried." The front man wasn't always open about his worry for others, but he couldn't let anything bad happen to his guitarist.

"What? Was I really breathing that heavy?" Zim thought to himself with a blush. Well, of course he was, he was beyond scared right now. Manson could not find out about this, not now.

"I'm fine. Go away." Zim's voice shook, as he was on the verge of tears. Manson took note of that. "Just open the door, I have something for you," he said.

Zim drew a shaky breath and tightly shut his eyes. If he doesn't answer, Manson will only grow more suspicious of him. He pulled the pacifier from his mouth completely, and sat up, cringing at the soft crinkle that followed every move. "Hang on..." Zim slowly stood up and carefully made his way over to the suitcase again. He found a fuzzy black bath robe to hide both his very wet diaper, and otherwise naked body.

Manson was patient, and after hearing a bit of shuffling, Zim slowly opened the door to a crack. "What do you want?" he asked in a frantic, yet soft tone. The singer was puzzled as to what was going on with the younger man. "You....you okay, Zim?" he asked. Zim nodded and rubbed his eyes, as he faked being half-asleep, "I was...sleeping," he mumbled. Manson blinked, "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize." he said. "Uh," He felt a bit awkward, "here." The raven-haired singer offered Zim a white box, "There's a cafe here that's open twenty-four hours, I thought you might want something to eat," he said, "No meat, " he chuckled a little.

Zim took the box, and looked at it, then at Manson, who was looking a little flustered, himself. The guitarist allowed himself to smile a bit, "Thanks," he said. Manson smiled back and nodded, watching as Zim opened the door a tad bit more, and opened the box to examine it's contents. He noticed the robe Zim was wearing, and found it a little strange. "Dude, it's summer," he laughed a little, teasingly. Zim looked up, "Hm?" Then he realized what he meant, "Oh..." he blushed, "I was cold."

To this response, Manson gave a skeptical look. He reached out and touched Zim on the forehead gently. This made the guitarist flinch and squeak a little with surprise. He felt a bit warm, and kind of sweaty. The singer blinked and took his hand away when he noticed Zim grow more nervous. "You feel a little warm," he said. The flustered guitarist looked away, "I....I think I better rest, then," he said. Manson simply nodded, and turned to leave, questions and curiosity flooding his brain, "Feel better, Z, enjoy the food."

Manson had walked away before Zim could even thank him again. It only made him more nervous. Did he notice? Could he hear the gentle crinkle coming from his groin when he moved? He bit his lip and receded back into his room, shedding the out of season garment of clothing.

With his head down, he went back to the bed. "I don't feel like playing anymore, Teddy..." he whispered meekly to the bear as he sat down. His diaper was now cold and uncomfortable, and Zim couldn't help but feel fussy inside because of it. He let out a whine as he laid back and cuddled his soft bear to his chest. "Why am I like this?" His voice was shaken as his eyes filled with helpless tears.

He looked into the eyes of the plush bear, as if those little brown glass orbs held some sort of answer. But Zim's subconscious simply answered for him, 'It's just the way you are.' He let out a little sob as the tears began to fall, "But why..." His mind then began whirring uncontrollably from stress. All he could coherently think to do was to hold his teddy and cry. He squeezed the warm little animal to his bare chest with all his might, curled up, and did just that.

His final thoughts before accidentally slipping into a catatonic sleep were, 'Why, oh why, must I be so fragile?'