John had been dreaming about this for months, he had ten days off in a row. It was the first time he'd taken a vacation in years; and he was spending it all with Andrew. To say their first day together was going smoothly would not have been completely accurate. Andrew had therapy that morning and he'd been triggered badly, to such an extent that John had to be called from the waiting room to take him home early. As soon as the two men got home Andrew went straight for the bedroom and cocooned himself away. John walked past periodically, in between washing his scrubs and catching up on reading. Most of his passes, he heard nothing. But, as he was going to ask Andrew about lunch, he heard muffled crying through the door.
He knocked gently, not wanting the harsh sound to startle Andrew.
"Andrew? Are you okay?" John inquired, just loud enough to be heard. When he didn't get an answer, also hearing the crying get worse, he let himself into the bedroom. He almost cried too at what he saw. Pope was tangled in the covers and his jacket, face red, eyes irritated and biting at his hand hard enough that John could see blood. John hurried to the bed; he had to get Andrew redirected to stop him injuring himself further.
"Andrew baby, please don't hurt yourself," John murmured, lowering himself carefully so Andrew could see him.
Andrew whined, a painfully wounded sound, and sunk his teeth into his hand again.
"Oh, I'm so sorry bubba. I should have checked on you sooner. You feeling little, huh?" John cooed
Andrew cried harder, but looks up to meet John's eyes for a brief second.
John understood. He thought when he had to take Andrew home that he was dissociating. Clearly that had turned into him regressing at some point in the almost forty minutes since they'd got home. He reached to his nightstand, and the large drawer at the bottom, where the supplies Andrew used when he was regressed most often.
"Here Andy, you want your pacifier?" John offered, holding it towards Andrew so that he'd have to use the hand he was biting to take it. Andrew took it forcefully, practically snatching it from Carter's hand, and putting it straight into his mouth. John was glad he thought to buy several replacement teats for the pacifiers, Andrew had the tendency to bite through them - often. Even with the pacifier, Andrew's wailing didn't stop. He was stuck in the middle of a meltdown and it was only John who could help him weather the storm.
John was fairly confident in knowing what the cause of this meltdown was. He'd guess it was a combination of therapy and hunger. Andrew didn't eat much the night before and skipped breakfast, stomach too nervous to accept anything. He had an idea, but he couldn't be sure Andrew would be safe on his own.
"Andy?" John asked softly, at eye level with the other man but not pressing eye contact. Andrew had sat up and was rocking back and forth harshly, tugging at his jacket.
"You want this off?" John checked, pointing at the offending garment.
With a whine and a rapid nod of confirmation, John extracted Andrew's arms and threw the jacket onto a nearby chair. Once he was free from his jacket, Andrew wrapped his arms tight around himself, the rocking continuing. Carter shuffled back to get back to the box of supplies, pulling out a plush whale shark and Andrew's dark green weighted blanket.
"You want your shark bubba?" John questioned, offering out the stuffed animal. Andrew made grabby hands, keening unhappily at John.
"There you go," John soothed, handing it over. "What about your big blanket?"
Andrew nodded, still rocking and tears still falling.
"Okay big guy, here it comes," Carter warned, before standing and draping it round Andrew's shoulders. "There you go bubba, that's better isn't it?"
Andrew's tears were slowing slightly, but he was still rocking and clawing his fingers at the fur of the whale shark. John could see the anxiety still coursing through his partners frame.
"You need headphones Andy?"
Andrew scrunched his nose up and shook his head
John nodded, "okay, no headphones. Good saying no big guy. One more question," he started, getting interrupted by an angry sounding hum sort of noise.
"I know bubba, I'm sorry. Do you want some food?" John asked, really aware that asking Andrew too many questions was a sure fire way to overwhelm him further.
Andrew made the same angry hum, this time with more confusion.
John furrowed his brow, "you're hungry?" he guessed, getting a nod in reply. And the penny dropped.
"You want a bottle bubba?" Carter guessed again, and, from Andrew's fast nod, he was glad at how well he understood the other man.
He smiled at Andrew, "alright Andy. I'll go get you a bottle, you want TV?"
Andrew scrunched his nose up and pulled his blanket over his head
"Okay, okay," John placated, hands held out. "No TV, we'll keep the quiet. Wait right here bubba, I'll be back as soon as I can"
John began moving slowly to the bedroom door, checking for any signs of real discomfort from Andrew. When he didn't get any, he quickly made his way to the kitchen to get a bottle made up.
Andrew didn't normally regress young enough to want a bottle. A sippy cup, sure, but it was uncommon that he was as young as a baby. John wasn't particularly surprised, the last time he needed to leave therapy early he dropped to his youngest headspace and remained that way for a few days. As well as thinking about that, Carter was also working out what he'd need to do for the rest of the day to help Andrew. He filled one bottle with apple juice, and one with one of Andrew's protein shakes. The other man didn't enjoy milk at all, whether he was regressed or not, and he hadn't been eating enough recently too; so a protein shake was a good call in John's opinion.
Less than five minutes later, John was back in the bedroom with the two prepared bottles.
"Alright Andy, got your bottle right here"
Andrew, no longer crying but still sniffing sadly, shuffled clumsily so John could sit down on the bed.
"Would you like to do it or me?" John asked
Andrew thought for a moment, his brain feeling very slow after how unhappy he was - in combination with the very young headspace. He didn't trust his own hands not to be bad, so shakily pointed at John.
John smiled warmly, "Okay bubba, you tell me when you're ready"
Andrew shuffled again, this time to sit himself between John's long legs and relaxed back into his chest with a sigh. John's smile only grew, so pleased that Andrew found comfort in being close when he was regressed.
"Alright Andy," John started, positioning the bottle for Andrew to take in his mouth. "There we go"
Andrew latched on to the bottle, letting out a happy hum as he did. He held his pacifier in one hand and his whale shark in the other. John made sure he didn't drink too quickly, something Andrew had a habit of doing. He liked the time close to Andrew, although there was a tinge of discomfort; stemming from the knowledge that, in most cases, Andrew's regression was involuntary and came from having been painfully triggered. But John also understood the comfort regression brought his partner. And he loved nothing more than taking care of his bubba.
As Andrew kept drinking his bottle, he settled more and more into John's chest, relaxing into him completely. Regressed or not, John was Andrew's safe place. Everything else was uncertain and scary to Andrew so much of the time, regardless of headspace, but never John Carter.
With his bottle finished, Andrew hummed happily. John set the empty bottle down on his nightstand with one hand, the other was gently stroking Andrew's side.
"That better bubba?" John checked, tilting his head to try and make eye contact with Andrew.
Andrew wiggled away from John's gaze but nodded. He shuffled around again, almost flopping over, but managing to settle the other way around on John's lap and instantly nuzzling in to rest his head on John's shoulder. John felt Andrew melt against him. His bottle had clearly made him sleepy.
"Shh," John cooed. "I've got you Andy, you do whatever you need"
He reached around to take Andrew's pacifier and easily slipped it into the other man's mouth. Andrew let out another happy hum, eyes closing and rapidly being lulled to sleep. John was using all the techniques he could, gentle shushes and murmurs, stroking Andrew's sides slowly and rocking them both side to side.
"Just rest Andy, I'll be right here when you wake up," he reassured, pressing a sweet kiss into Andrew's curls.
(I love reading Little!Pope and PopeCarter, so, because these are my dolls to play with, I put them together. Thank you again for getting to the end, I hope you enjoyed! Stay safe folks!)
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