Madison’s World Redux: Season Two: Episode Twenty Seven

* somehow missed uploading the image with this one. Will correct when i get home.

“Are you finished eating, Dad?” McKenzie asked, her voice soft as she leaned down, gently stroking Greg’s back. Her fingers, large yet tender, moved with care, and Greg felt his body instinctively relax under her touch. Each pet seemed to drain the tension from his limbs, and though it was a strange sensation to be comforted in such a way by his daughter, there was a warmth in it—a reminder that, despite everything, she still cared deeply for him.

“Yeah, I’m stuffed,” Greg said, leaning into her touch, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. It had been so long since he’d had real food, something that wasn’t the bland, dry pellets he had been forced to eat. He glanced at the scrap of chicken, what remained of the feast she had shared with him, and marveled at how something so small to her could be so enormous to him. McKenzie smiled down at him as she picked up the leftover piece of meat, her fingers easily grasping what to her was a tiny morsel but to Greg had been a full meal.

It struck him again just how vast the gap between them had become,how his reality had shrunk so completely while hers remained unchanged. He felt small, fragile, but McKenzie’s gentle smile reassured him. In this moment, there was no power struggle, no condescension—just a daughter looking out for her father.

“Remember, Dad,” McKenzie continued, her tone sweet but serious, “you still have to eat your pellets. I can’t do this for you every day.” There was an undercurrent of concern in her voice, a protective instinct that had taken root since Greg and Cindy had become Littles. She wasn’t just warning him, she was setting boundaries, trying to balance her role as both caretaker and daughter. “If I find out you’re not eating your pellets, then I won’t be able to do this for you anymore.”

Greg nodded, understanding the weight of her words. McKenzie wasn’t just being kind—she was being practical, realistic about their situation. He appreciated the gesture, but he knew there were limits to what she could offer him in this new world. As much as it pained him, he was no longer capable of living on his terms. He had to rely on McKenzie’s decisions, her judgment.

“You’re my dad, and I want you around for a long time,” McKenzie added, her voice softening as she gently stroked his back again. “People food isn’t the healthiest for you, you know. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. The simple phrase, you’re my dad, echoed in his mind, reminding him of the bond they still shared despite everything. He had always been the protector, the one looking out for his girls. Now, the roles had flipped so completely, and McKenzie was the one trying to ensure his safety, to keep him healthy in a world where his body had betrayed him. It was both comforting and heartbreaking.

Greg looked up at her, his heart heavy with a mixture of gratitude and guilt. “I know, Kenz,” he said softly. “I’ll eat my pellets, I promise.” His voice, though small, carried sincerity. He didn’t want to burden her, didn’t want her to feel like she had to worry about him more than she already did.

McKenzie smiled, the tension in her features easing. “Good,” she whispered, continuing to pet him with the same gentleness that soothed his weary body. Her fingers, large and careful, traced the small of his back, and Greg felt a strange comfort in the gesture. It was a moment of calm, a brief reprieve from the harsh reality they had both been thrown into.

As she looked down at her father, McKenzie couldn’t help but marvel at how small he had become, not just physically but in the way he now relied on her. The shift was still something she was getting used to, the reversal of roles, the weight of responsibility she now carried. But she had to be strong for him, for her mom. They depended on her in ways she hadn’t anticipated, and though the burden was heavy, she shouldered it without complaint.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Greg. She glanced down at him again, her heart full of love and worry. “You and Mom… I need to know you’re okay.”

Greg didn’t say anything at first. He simply leaned into the warmth of her hand, feeling her fingers stroke his back. In that moment, he understood that McKenzie had taken on a role neither of them had ever expected her to, and she was handling it with a strength and grace he hadn’t foreseen. His heart swelled with pride.

“We’re okay,” he said softly, though he wasn’t entirely sure it was true. But in this moment, with McKenzie looking down at him with such care, it felt true enough.

“McKenzie, sweetie, do you think you could do me a favor and just try to look out for your mom too?” Greg asked gently, his voice careful. He didn’t want to overstep his bounds, but the worry gnawed at him. Cindy was alone with Madison, and while he knew Madison would never hurt either of them, her approach was… different. Madison had her own ideas of what was appropriate, ideas that didn’t always align with McKenzie’s.

McKenzie paused, her body stiffening slightly at the request. “Dad, I am looking out for her. I stepped in when she snapped at Madison about the phone, even though I didn’t have to. She should have known better.” McKenzie’s voice had an edge to it now, defensive. Greg immediately recognized that he had struck a nerve.

“I wasn’t accusing you of anything, Kenz,” Greg said quickly, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened the air. “I know you did, and I’m so thankful. I really appreciate you stepping in back there. I know you did that for me.”

McKenzie softened a little at his words but didn’t fully relax. “You’re welcome, Dad. You’re my Little. Of course I’m going to help you out.” But then, her voice hardened again. “Even if Mom doesn’t believe in me.”

Greg felt a pang of guilt settle in his chest. “McKenzie, you know she believes in you. She’s just upset that all of this has fallen onto your shoulders.”

McKenzie shook her head, her frustration spilling out. “No, Dad. She basically told me I can’t do it. That I’m going to fail. She said that right to my face. And now she’s acting like she has it so tough, like she’s the victim, when these are her own rules. Her own treatment that she fought for Littles to have. And now she’s stuck in the life she wanted for Littles, and it’s suddenly too much for her?” McKenzie’s voice carried a sharp edge of anger, but beneath it, Greg could hear the hurt, raw and exposed.

“Honey,” Greg started, his heart heavy with the realization of how deeply this was affecting his eldest daughter. He wanted to reason with her, to calm the hurt, but the words felt inadequate.

“No, Dad.” McKenzie’s voice was firm, the hurt spilling over into anger. “You can side with me, or you can side with her. But you can’t keep playing both sides. If you want to be on Team Mom, that’s fine. I can take you back, and you can spend more time with Madison and Mom.” She was already starting to stand, her movements quick, decisive, like she was ready to drop him back into the chaos he had tried to escape from.

Panic shot through Greg’s chest. “Kenzie, honey. I’m on your side,” he said, his voice urgent, pleading. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He looked up at her towering form, feeling the immense weight of the moment. He didn’t want to abandon Cindy, but McKenzie—his strong, capable daughter—needed him to be with her, to choose her.

McKenzie paused, looking down at Greg, her expression conflicted. The hurt still flickered in her eyes, but there was a softness there too, a desire for reassurance. Greg’s words seemed to reach her, but he could feel the strain in her posture, the weight of everything she had been carrying.

Greg’s heart ached for both of them. He felt like he was being pulled in two directions—Cindy, his wife, who was struggling in ways he could hardly comprehend, and McKenzie, his daughter, who had taken on the burden of caring for both him and Cindy. And while McKenzie’s words stung, he knew she wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t keep straddling the line between them. Not like this.

“I’m sorry,” Greg repeated, his voice soft, his guilt palpable. He hated that he wasn’t siding with Cindy. He hated that he felt like he had to choose. But this wasn’t just about picking sides. He told himself it was for both of them. If he could support McKenzie, it would help Cindy too, at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

McKenzie let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Okay,” she said quietly, sitting back down, her voice no longer sharp but filled with a quiet resignation. “I just need to know you’re with me, Dad. That you trust me.”

Greg nodded, his heart heavy. “I trust you, Kenz. I do.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension still lingering but no longer threatening to pull them apart. McKenzie’s hand hovered near Greg, her fingers gently brushing against his arm. The touch was comforting, but it also served as a reminder of how small he was now, how much the dynamic between them had changed.

“You’ve been doing so much, Kenzie,” Greg said softly, feeling the need to fill the quiet with something meaningful. “And I don’t think I’ve said it enough, but I’m really proud of you. I know this isn’t easy for you, but you’re doing an incredible job.”

McKenzie glanced down at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, though the weight of her earlier words still hung in the air between them. There was relief in her eyes, but the hurt wasn’t fully gone. Greg knew it would take time for that to heal. Time—and perhaps more than he could give her right now.

As McKenzie sat quietly, Greg couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed. He had always been the one to fix things, to hold the family together. But now, that role belonged to McKenzie, and she was doing it with a strength and resolve he hadn’t expected. Still, the burden was heavy, and he knew that, despite his efforts to support her, the cracks were starting to show.

He wished he could do more. He wished he could make everything right for both McKenzie and Cindy. But for now, all he could do was choose, and he had chosen McKenzie.

McKenzie sat there quietly, her gaze softened slightly, but the tension still lingered in the air. Greg could feel it too, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He had chosen McKenzie in this moment, and though he believed it was the right choice, the pang of guilt for leaving Cindy behind gnawed at him. He hated feeling like he was betraying her, but McKenzie needed him to be fully with her—to choose her.

As he looked up at his daughter, towering above him, he saw a flicker of something more, exhaustion, maybe, or the pressure she had been under. She had taken on so much, more than anyone her age should have to. Yet here she was, holding it all together, being strong for everyone.

“I do trust you,” Greg repeated, his voice softer now, but filled with sincerity. “And I know you’re doing everything you can. You’ve stepped up in ways I never imagined, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

McKenzie’s eyes softened even more at his words, but there was still a distance between them, a barrier built by the responsibilities she now carried. She gave him a small nod, accepting his praise, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I just need you to understand, Dad,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Mom made all these rules, fought for this world, and now it’s her reality. I’m trying to do what’s best for both of you, but she can’t keep fighting me. It’s hard enough keeping everything together.”

Greg nodded, understanding the struggle she was facing. Cindy’s resistance to her new reality was making things even harder for McKenzie, and that hurt him too. He knew his wife was suffering, but the burden of that suffering was falling on their daughter’s shoulders.

“I’ll talk to her,” Greg said gently. “I’ll try to help her understand that you’re not the enemy here. She’s just… having a hard time letting go.”

McKenzie’s expression softened further, though her posture remained stiff. “Thanks, Dad. I just need her to stop fighting me every step of the way. I want to help her, I do, but she needs to trust me.”

Greg nodded, feeling the weight of his promise. He would talk to Cindy, though he wasn’t sure how much good it would do. She was trapped in her own world of pain and denial, just as much as he was. But he couldn’t let that pull him away from McKenzie.

“I appreciate you choosing me, Dad,” McKenzie said quietly, her gaze softening but still filled with the weight of their conversation. “I know you believe in me. But you need to understand something—this is a world you allowed to happen. You let the moms of the world put all of this into place.”

Greg felt a pang of guilt wash over him, her words hitting deeper than he expected. There was no anger in her voice, no accusation. Just a simple, painful truth. He could see it in her eyes—McKenzie wasn’t just talking about Cindy or Madison. She was talking about him, the choices he had made, the things he had ignored.

“I’m sorry you have to live like this,” McKenzie continued, her voice softening, as if trying to ease the sting of her own words. “But you’re not a victim either. You don’t share as much blame as Mom, but you’re both Littles now. This isn’t something that just happened to you. You were part of the world that built this.”

Greg winced slightly, the weight of her words settling on his shoulders like a heavy burden. He had always known, deep down, that Cindy’s passion for the hierarchy between people and Littles had been a part of their lives for a long time. But hearing McKenzie say it so plainly—it hurt. Because she was right. He hadn’t fought it, hadn’t pushed back against the world that Cindy had championed. And now, here he was, living in the very reality he had quietly accepted.

“Madison is doing what she was taught,” McKenzie continued, her tone steady but carrying a note of resignation. “While I don’t agree with all of Madison’s and Mom’s methods, they aren’t wrong either. So, I can only say and do so much.”

Greg could see the conflict in her eyes, the tension of being caught between her sister’s more rigid approach and her mother’s ideology, which had now become their prison. McKenzie was trying to balance it all, to hold her family together while still honoring the rules of the world they lived in. But he could sense the strain it was putting on her—the frustration, the helplessness.

“I’m not going to wreck my relationship with Madison because of the choices you and Mom made,” McKenzie added, her voice firm, though it wavered slightly with emotion. “I love you, Dad, and I’ll protect you as much as I can. But I’m not going to let what you two did tear me and Mads apart.”

Greg swallowed hard, the guilt twisting in his gut. He hadn’t expected McKenzie to lay things out so plainly, but the truth of it was undeniable. He and Cindy were trapped by their own decisions, their own complicity. And now, McKenzie was left holding the pieces, trying to navigate a world they had helped create, without letting it destroy the bond between her and Madison.

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that it wasn’t their fault, that they hadn’t asked for this. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. He had stood by and let Cindy push for a world where Littles were seen as less, where people like him had no real autonomy. And now, he and Cindy were the ones who had lost everything.

“I know,” Greg said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right, Kenz. I—” He hesitated, the weight of his own guilt pressing down on him. “I should have done more. I should have spoken up. But I didn’t. And now… now we’re here.”

McKenzie’s expression softened, the anger in her eyes giving way to something more tender, more understanding. She reached down and gently stroked his back, her touch warm and comforting. “I know it’s hard, Dad. And I’m not trying to punish you. But I need you to see that I can’t fix everything. Not for you, and not for Mom.”

Greg nodded, feeling the tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Greg wanted to apologize again, to tell her how proud he was of her, how much he admired her strength. But the words felt hollow. He didn’t want to burden her with more apologies, more guilt. She had enough to carry already.

“I just…” Greg began, his voice shaky. “I just want you to know that I’m proud of you. And I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t realize…”

McKenzie smiled softly, her fingers still gently petting his back. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet sadness. “I know you are.”

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