Blood drips down his arms. He shakily holds the razor blade, small sobs wracking out of his chest. His hands shake and he drops the blade, collapsing down on the floor.

He can feel the sharp edges of his headspace dissipate, his adult mindset deteriorating and leaving nothing by the baby headspace to take over.

The thing is... The poor baby doesn't know how to deal with the pain that the deep cuts left. He really wants his caregiver. They were so nice and sweet. He lets out a wail.