Chapter Eighty-Three: Monotony and Strain

[ D A R R I C K]

A week had passed since that basketball game on the cracked, weathered court. It felt like a lifetime ago. The initial spark of energy and camaraderie they'd shared during that fleeting moment of normalcy had long since faded, replaced by the droning monotony of their daily routine: breakfast, class, lunch, recreation, free period, dinner, and then bed. Lights out at the same time every night. Wake up at the same time every morning. The days bled into each other, a dull, gray haze of repetition that left everyone feeling restless and numb.

Darrick felt it more than most.

At breakfast, he'd often catch himself staring blankly at his food, his fork aimlessly poking at the cold scrambled eggs or the stale toast. His body ached constantly now—deep, radiating pain that seemed to live in his muscles and joints. No matter how much he stretched or rested, the tension wouldn't go away. The worst part was the shrinking. Ever since David's so-called "lesson," when he'd been forcibly grown and then shrunk back down with that needle, his body hadn't felt the same.

At first, he thought it was just soreness, something temporary that would fade with time. But it didn't. The ache had settled into his bones, and every time he shrank to visit Tess in the human sector, it felt like his muscles were tearing apart from the inside. His control over the shrinking—something he'd once taken for granted—felt tenuous now, like trying to hold onto water with bare hands.

Even worse, there were moments when he'd shrink without meaning to, like a hiccup his body collapsing into itself with no warning. Other times, he'd grow too much, briefly that his head brushed the ceiling before he could rein himself in. Luckily it was in moments where he was alone, could feel it coming on and could hide from view. It left him exhausted, his body trembling with the effort of trying to maintain some semblance of control. He couldn't let anyone see that, though—not Austin, not Cole, not Jace. Certainly not Tess.

He'd been sneaking into the human sector less and less, not because he didn't want to see her but because the act of shrinking felt like it was breaking him. His ribs would ache, his legs would tremble, and his vision would blur from the strain. Still, he pushed through the pain when he could, just to spend time with Tess in her small, sterile dorm.

But even that had become difficult. It wasn't enough to just sit with her anymore, knowing he couldn't stay long before the pain set in. So he started taking her out of the human sector, carrying her back to his dorm to spend time together. He knew it was risky—knew the handlers would lose it if they caught him—but he didn't care. It was the only way they could be together without him constantly shrinking and growing.

Cole hadn't minded. His roommate gave him the space he needed, leaving the dorm whenever Darrick brought Tess over. Tess would sit on his chest, her tiny body sprawled across him as they talked quietly about anything but the facility. She'd run her hands over his cheeks, lay in his hair, her small fingers brushing against his temples as she whispered about the future—about what they'd do once they were free.

But Darrick couldn't stop thinking about the present. About the serum. He could feel it in his system still, lingering like poison. It clung to his muscles, wrapping around them like chains, refusing to let go. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, the ache was a constant reminder that something wasn't right. And every time he shrank, the pain only grew worse, like the serum was fighting him, trying to take control.

He didn't tell Tess. She'd been through enough, and he didn't want to burden her with his problems. Instead, he gritted his teeth and carried on, pretending everything was fine. But he knew it wasn't.

He felt it most at night, lying in bed after a long day of monotony. His body would throb, the pain radiating from his chest to his limbs, and he'd stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The routine, the facility, the handlers—it was all wearing him down. But it was the serum that scared him the most. The way it seemed to have a hold on him, the way it made him feel like he wasn't entirely in control anymore.

Sometimes, he'd catch himself looking in the mirror, searching for signs that he wasn't the same person he used to be. His reflection stared back at him, tired and worn, his hazel eyes dull with exhaustion.

And then there was Tess. She was his anchor, the one thing that kept him grounded in this place. But even she couldn't take away the fear that crept into his thoughts late at night—the fear that he was changing, that the serum was doing something to him he couldn't reverse.

"Darrick?" Tess's tiny voice pulled him from his thoughts one night as she sat on his chest, her small hands resting on his shirt.

"Hmm?" he hummed, tilting his head to look at her, her small body laying across his chest, basking in his warmth

"Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes searching his face. "You've been quiet."

"I'm fine," he said quickly, forcing a smile. But even as he said it, he felt the weight of the lie settle in his chest.

Tess didn't look convinced, but she didn't press him. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Darrick closed his eyes, his hand coming up to rest gently over her back. For now, this was enough. Even if his body felt like it was falling apart, even if the serum was still lurking in his system, he had Tess.

And he'd do whatever it took to protect her. Even if it meant ignoring the growing pain inside him.

~

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual morning hum of clinking trays, muted conversations, and the occasional bark of laughter from a distant table. The air smelled faintly of scrambled eggs and burnt toast, a mix that didn't make breakfast any more appealing. Darrick sat at their usual table, his long legs stretched out under the bench as he idly poked at his food with a fork.

Darrick, however, couldn't focus on much. His body ached—deep, persistent aches that radiated through his muscles and into his bones. It wasn't unbearable, it was constant, it was enough to make everything feel heavier, slower, like he was moving through molasses. He adjusted his seat, leaning back slightly to try and stretch the tension out of his shoulders.

Darrick adjusted his seat, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension that had settled there since David's injection weeks ago. It didn't help. Nothing seemed to.

Across the table, Austin sipped his coffee, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room like he was waiting for something to happen. Jace was next to him, too busy shoveling cereal into his mouth to notice anything around him, while Cole leaned back in his chair, idly stirring his yogurt and cracking jokes to no one in particular. They were all settled into the monotony of the facility's routine—breakfast, class, lunch, recreation, free period, dinner, bed—but for Darrick, it felt like the weight of that monotony was pressing down harder every day.

"You okay?" Austin asked, breaking the silence. His gaze flicked to Darrick, sharp and curious.

Darrick nodded, his jaw tight. "Yeah...." he paused, "feel like my muscles don't know where they're supposed to be. Slept wrong I think" he lied

Cole snorted, setting his yogurt down with a lazy grin. "What you been doing in the dorm when I'm not there? Surely Tess couldn't be wearing you out that much?" Cole teased, "or is it not enough action at all, all uptight?" Cole gave his shoulders a shake

Darrick glared at him.

"I'm just saying," Cole continued, holding up his hands like he was innocent. "If it were me, I'd be punching holes in walls by now."

"You'd break your hand before you broke the wall," Austin shot back, smirking over his coffee.

Cole tossed a piece of toast at him, which Austin dodged with ease. Jace didn't even look up, too focused on his cereal to notice the banter. Darrick sighed, letting their voices fade into the background as the ache in his body pulled his focus inward.

He hadn't felt the same since David's so-called "lesson." The serum David had used to force him to grow and shrink—it was still inside him. Darrick could feel it, lingering in his muscles, gripping his bones like an invisible vice. It felt like his body didn't belong to him anymore. He was either too big, his shoulders brushing against doorframes that had never been an issue before, or too small, like the ground beneath him was pulling him down.

Shrinking to visit Tess had become too hard, Every time he reduced his size to sneak into the human sector, it felt like his body was tearing itself apart. The pain started in his chest, radiating outward until his legs trembled and his vision blurred. He hid it from Tess, of course. She had enough to worry about without knowing how much it cost him to see her. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him struggle.

A-shadow fell over the table. Lydia stood there, clipboard tucked under her arm, her sharp eyes scanning the group before landing on Darrick. She held a small white pill bottle in her other hand, extending it toward him without a word.

"Darrick," she said, her tone brisk and authoritative. No greeting. No preamble.

Darrick raised an eyebrow, reluctantly taking the bottle from her hand. It was small and unassuming, its label marked only with the words: Dosage: Twice daily. He turned it over in his hand, frowning at its simplicity.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"Growth stabilizers," Lydia replied, her voice clipped but matter-of-fact. "They'll help regulate the effects of the shrinking and growing. Your muscles and bones are still recovering from the stress of the forced transitions. This should alleviate some of the lingering pain and instability."

The word instability hung in the air, heavier than Darrick wanted to admit. He'd noticed it, of course. Some days he felt larger than normal, his shoulders brushing doorframes that had always been wide enough before. Other days, it was the opposite—he felt smaller, like the world around him had grown just enough to make him feel off balance. It was subtle, but it was there. A constant reminder of what David had done.

"This will regulate that," Lydia continued, her tone firm. "Take one in the morning and one in the evening. With food, preferably."

Darrick frowned, his fingers tightening around the bottle. "What happens if I don't take it?"

Lydia's expression hardened, her sharp gaze locking onto his. "You don't want to find out."

The warning was clear, even if unspoken. Darrick nodded reluctantly, twisting the cap off the bottle. He shook out a single pill, the small white tablet looking almost insignificant in his palm. But the weight of what it represented—control, dependence—felt crushing.

He tossed the pill into his mouth and washed it down with a gulp of water. The bitterness lingered on his tongue, sharp and unpleasant, but he forced it down.

"Anything else?" he asked, his tone flat.

Lydia shook her head. "Just take them as directed."

With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of handlers as though she'd never been there.

The table was silent for a moment before Cole leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand as he grinned at Darrick. "So," he said, dragging out the word. "How's it feel to be a science experiment?"

Darrick shot him a warning glare. "Cole, I swear—"

"Relax, man," Cole said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, maybe next time you'll grow into a skyscraper or something. Could be cool."

Austin rolled his eyes, giving Darrick a sympathetic look having experienced Darrick so large he easily towered over tree back in the forest " Just take the pills and get through the next couple of weeks."

Darrick nodded, though the weight of the pill bottle in his pocket felt heavier than it should have. With every passing day, the tension in his chest only grew. The monotony of their routine—breakfast, class, lunch, recreation, free period, dinner, bed—was starting to feel suffocating. And David's silence wasn't comforting; it was ominous.

"You think class will actually be interesting today?" Jace asked suddenly, breaking the tension. He leaned back in his chair, balancing his empty cereal bowl on his knee.

"Not a chance," Cole said, sighing dramatically. "It's always the same. Another lecture on human history or whatever. Like we haven't already heard it a million times."

"Maybe they'll surprise us," Austin said, though his tone didn't sound hopeful.

Jace shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don't know. I kind of like the human evolution stuff. Makes you think about how different we really are."

"Different doesn't mean worse," Darrick said quietly, surprising even himself. The words came out before he could stop them, but he meant them.

The table fell silent again, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. Jace nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah," he said. "It doesn't."

For a moment, it felt like they were all on the same page, even if just briefly. But Darrick couldn't shake the gnawing thought in the back of his mind—were they afraid of him ?