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(ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ʰᵘᵃʷᵉᶦᵖʳᵒˣ⁵⁴ ᵒⁿ ᵈᶦˢᶜᵒʳᵈ)
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(This is purely a random writing I created on a whim. I'm going with it's a 'littles are known' scenario. Dennis' main caregivers are Robby and Jack. Also making him autistic because it is a talent of mine to make all characters autistic!)
(Does contain description of a meltdown, self-injurious stimming, and restraining someone for their safety)
"No Papa! I angry!" Dennis said, not quite shouting but close.
"Alright Den. I understand," Robby replied, doing his best at keeping time, even as his little hit out.
"NO! NOT RIGHT!" Dennis was fully shouting now. Although, being little, it lacked any of the real threat it would otherwise have.
"Am mad. Am big mad! Big dumb baby. Big dumb baby." Dennis began repeating the same three words over and over, getting more and more wound up. He was unable to stop himself. All his brain was telling him was how stupid he was, how useless and pathetic, he was just a stupid little baby. Then, before he or Robby knew what was happening, Dennis was hitting himself. His fists were swinging hard into his head over and over as he wailed. He threw himself on the floor, writhing around, needing the noise in his head to stop more than anything.
Robby dropped to the floor in an instant, in a movement that would definitely have his knees protesting. He knew what he needed to do, as much as he hated, but it at least would keep Dennis safe and stop him from doing himself an injury.
"Okay bubba. I'm sorry about doing this bug, but I need to keep you safe," Robby apologised. He pulled Dennis between his legs, pulling the littles back tight against his own chest and securely wrapping Dennis' arms up in his own.
"Shh bug. I've got you. You're safe Denny, you're safe. I'm so sorry you're having these bad feelings. You're not bad, you're not a bad boy Denny. You can't help the feelings. They'll pass. Your feelings won't last forever," Robby soothed. He held Dennis tight, knowing the pressure would help. Robby also starting rocking himself and Dennis back and forth, another trick he'd seen Dennis doing before when small, and Mel had explained to him with regards to a young autistic patient.
Dennis was still letting out ragged cries, harsh sobs and screams. Robby could only compare it to anguish. Dennis' feelings were causing him physical pain, and Robby didn't know how else to help. He hated waiting for it to pass, having to see Dennis feel so bad. But beyond what he was already doing, it was now just a waiting game.
"Pa-pa," Dennis hiccupped out through his tears.
Robby kept up what he was doing. "I'm here Den, I'm here," he reassured.
Dennis whined again. "Please. Make stop"
"Oh Denny. I wish I could bubba. I wish I could take it all away more than anything," Robby murmured into the curls on the top of Dennis' head. "But it will pass Den. I promise. This feeling isn't going to last forever"
Dennis just cried harder in response. He wriggled in Robby's hold, trying to get his arms free again. But Robby held steady, trying longer motions as he rocked and started mumbling gentle reassurances to Dennis in an attempt to soothe his little.
It took close to half an hour, but Dennis' meltdown ended. He was beyond exhausted. The little had been tired already, regressing a couple of hours before his shift should have ended. There was a tough case came in, a homeless man Dennis had developed a good relationship with had been brought in having been attacked. Unfortunately, due to his health conditions, they were unable to save him after his heart stopped. Dennis was crushed. He'd done CPR for thirty five minutes until Langdon called it. He didn't remember getting out of the room, he just knew Robby was holding him and taking him up to the little care room; and then Robby leaving again with a kiss and a promise to be back as soon as his shift was over. The whole time he was there the discomfort and rumbly feelings going through him just kept getting louder and louder. But he didn't have to words to tell the caregivers at work. And he just wanted his Papa, his Papa always understood; oftentimes more than he did.
Robby, whilst he hoped it wasn't going to happen, had considered the possibility of the meltdown. He hated when Dennis got upset, but he always did what he could to be prepared for the upset itself and whatever would come after.
"Alright bubba," Robby started speaking gently. "You're okay, I've got you Den"
Dennis hummed, sighing and relaxing back into Robby.
"You tired bug?" Robby asked, hands stroking gentle patterns up and down Dennis' arms.
Dennis nodded so Robby turned him around in his hold to cradle him close to his chest. Right away the little buried his head into Robby's chest as Dennis wrapped his arms and legs around Robby like a koala.
"There you go bug, you just do what you need. I'm right here with you," Robby mumbled, now tracing the same patterns he was running over Dennis' arms up and down his back instead.
Dennis cooed and gurgled. He'd gotten even smaller, all the exertion from the meltdown leaving him at his youngest. He started dribbling, mouthing at the fabric of Robby's shirt. His brain was finally quiet. He was cuddled up to his Papa, his heartbeat beneath Dennis' ear. He was safe.
(Thank you so much for reading. I hope you all have a beautiful, gentle day! If you're somewhere currently experiencing a heatwave, please stay safe in the sun and remember to stay hydrated)
When Dennis is regressed, he doesn’t always understand that he’s in Pittsburgh, an urban metropolis, and not his boyhood home of Broken Bow, Nebraska. Even when he puts on his most polite voice and his sparkliest puppy dog eyes for his daddy, Robby can’t make stars appear in the night sky nor can he magic farm animals into their backyard. Deep down, Dennis understands that he’s not to blame, but he still cries softly into his neck sometimes, whispering, “Please. Please.”
After some enquiring with his colleagues who are parents and some wrangling of the schedule, Robby surprises Dennis with a visit to Round Hill Park, a functioning farm in Elizabeth Township. Dennis cries when he sees his first cow there, and he beckons Robby over to join him in petting the animal’s broad snout. At the rabbit hutch, their guide offers Dennis permission to hold one of the bunnies. Dennis cries again. In the car ride home, he doesn’t stop talking about the animals and the nature and the good weather—even when he falls asleep, he continues to mumble about bunnies and cows, no doubt already reliving the recent memories in his dreams.
Little!Dennis Whitaker who was a victim of emotional incest.
He was always very close with his mother, but of course he always thought it was just because he was her baby. His brothers always resented him for being coddled and getting away with anything, much like most youngest siblings do… but as he gets older things shift.
His mom and dad don’t really love each other as much as their pastor says parents are supposed to love each other. Dad is sleeping on the couch more and more. And every so often, Dennis will wake up to his mother pulling him from bed. “Come get in the big bed with mommy. You’ll sleep better.”
He’s only 11. Its normal to find comfort in your mom. And he assumes that its ok for her to find comfort in him too. They just love each other so much. She tells him about how much she loves him, and how she sometimes wishes they could leave Dad and Trent and Elijah and Connor here on the farm. They could live by themselves and he could be her sweet little Dennis forever. And that sounds okay… he doesn’t like how aggressive his dad and brothers are anyway.
And when mom says that he’s the only reason she hasn’t killed herself… thats just how much she loves him right? So he should keep being her sweet boy. He needs to take care of his mom. He’ll go to church with her. He’ll think about being a pastor, like his dad always wanted to be. He’ll listen to his mother cry and scream about how hard life is… and he’ll hold her while she cries, even though he’s only 15– and 15 year olds shouldn’t have to be the ones comforting their mothers.
But Dennis isn’t perfect. He can’t be exactly what she needs. She needs a husband. One who will take care of her. And for a while, Dennis could do that. He could listen to all her problems, and tell her that it would all be okay. But he can’t fill that hole forever. Especially because he’s not the kind of man his mommy needs. He’s not that happy pursuing religion. He wants to help people and go into medicine, but she thinks that emergency medicine is the work of the devil… And he hates to disappoint her. And he hates to take away the only thing thats keeping her here on the planet. But maybe since he’s done so much for her, she’ll finally be able to return the favor and try to understand him a little?
But she doesn’t.
—
Now, he’s in the condo of his boyfriend who’s twice his age. A man in his 50’s who is actively working on his mental health, but never asks Dennis to deal with his depressive episodes. A man who is good at keeping clear boundaries, yet makes him feel more loved than any person ever has.
A man who takes care of him as well. Who lets him cry, and act childish without telling him he’s wrong for that. A man who holds him and tells him how he’s so brave for doing anything remotely scary or overwhelming.
There are definitely a few wires crossed in his brain. Mainly the ones that connect the way he receives love and affection, and the feeling of being babied and coddled. But now he lives with Robby— who’s loves that about him.
Robby puts him to bed in his crib every night, even though he knows he’s going to wake up to that soft voice an hour later over the baby monitor. The poor boy who needs someone to cuddle up to.
But when Robby picks him up and takes him to the big bed, its different than his mom. For one, Dennis always wants to go cuddle with him. And secondly, Robby is his companion. His partner, who is going to love him no matter what happens. If he makes a mistake or responds to something wrong, Robby is still going to be there telling him that he loves him. And its not because Dennis the only thing keeping him alive.
Robby would pick his little Dennis over anybody else. His mother had nobody else.
little!den who isn't always so perfectly soft and sweet.
heightened emotions that feel too big for his body, stressing him out, making him oversensitive and constantly on the verge of tears that's he's already embarrassed of. he hates being a crybaby, hates that it's all he's ever been. growing up and trying his best to hide his wet eyes, his hiccups and sniffles, learning to cry quiet— because if he didn't, his sadness was met only with ridicule. stop overreacting. stop manipulating your mother. stop being so loud.
so to try and stop it, to try and reel it in, he snaps. petulant, pouty. robby will touch him and he'll flinch away, snarl out a don't touch me. sometimes robby will try to talk and dennis will tell him to shut up. he's mouthy and he's difficult, and that makes him so devastated all over again, because all he's ever wanted was to be easy.
he hides in robby's closet to fix it. if he's the problem, he'll just remove himself from the situation. curl up in a pile of robby's clothes, rocking and whimpering, trying desperately to make himself feel big again. to be in control again. to stop wanting his papa so badly, to stop wanting softness so badly, to stop wanting to cry.
and that's how robby finds him, curled up and shuddering quieted cries, red-faced and broken. robby's heart hurts. he's quick to gather up his boy, ignoring the protests, ignoring the fists that beat at his shoulders and chest, only focused on keeping dennis folded into him until he calms, relaxes into the comfort robby has been trying so hard to offer. murmuring shh, shh, stop, baby, stop. you're okay. you're alright, it's papa. papa's here, baby, okay? you're okay. shh, shh, shh...
dennis is breaking, babbling all the awful thoughts that he's so careful to keep inside. begging for reassurance through whines and hiccups, sounding like a wounded puppy. apologizing over and over, saying m'sorry, m'sorry, m'so sorry, papa, please, please don' leave... please, m'so sorry for being bad! I didn' mean to! I swear I didn' mean t'be bad... m'no good... I jus' wanna be easy... m'such a bad kid.. m'sorry! m'so sorry...
robby blinks back his own tears at the sound of it, cuddles dennis closer, rocking him gently. as den's babbling fades robby carefully slips a thumb in his mouth, letting dennis take to it, suckle softly, shoulders relaxing now that he has something to help him regulate. slumping into robby, all weak and lax— so, so tired.
oh, my poor boy. shhh, don't say that, sweetheart, please don't. you're not a bad kid. not ever. no matter what happens, you are my good, sweet, kind little boy, and papa loves you so very much. yeah? papa loves you. always my good boy. always my good kid. it's okay now, it's okay... shh, shh, shh...
autistic little!pup!den who liiiives in Robby's old, worn shirts. he's even more sensitive to textures when he's little, the wrong shirt or a scratchy tag sends him into a meltdown. but robby's shirts are perfect— no tags, been through the wash so many times, perfectly soft. not to mention how comforting it is to have something of papa's wrapped up all around him.
and Robby just can't get enough of him in those big tshirts, cooing at the adorable sight of it. awww, sweet little puppy, look at youuu. my soft baby, huh? shh, that's a good pup, oh, I know. you're so cute, puppy, papa's precious little one. <333
I think pacis, bottles, teethers, and most toys would pull him out of it. out of the fuzzy, safe side of littlespace. too much gear would just lead to him berating himself, for needing it, for wanting it, for being a pathetic kid. it'd only end in tantrums and breakdowns.
so jack, searching for comfort objects, for anything to soothe his little one, finds two things robby can stomach without being made too self conscious or embarrassed.
1. a worn bear stuffie. it was jack's first, which greatly helps. if jack can cuddle a stuffie at night and still be strong, reliable jack, it's okay if robby does it too, right? it's soft, it still smells like jack, it's a good size to hug. it's quiet. easy. just... something to hold onto. sometimes jack sees robby nuzzle into it's soft fur, and it makes him melt. sweet boy.
2. jack's thumb. robby refuses pacis and won't suck his own finger, but in the cradle of jack's arms, sniffly and fussy, he accepts a gentle thumb pushed into his mouth. it tastes like jack, which helps. robby just needs to be surrounded by jack, needs all his senses filled with him. jack is safety. jack is comfort. so he'll latch onto the thumb, suckle til his shoulders droop, tension draining out.
nothing helps more than jack's voice. low and steady and crooning, a soft stream of praise. attaboy, that's it, just relax, kiddo. you're alright. you're okay, misha. papa's here. papa's always here. you're my good baby, you know that? my sweet boy. shh, shh, misha, papa's here, papa's got you.
little!den who's a shaky little pup, either from overwhelm or anxiety or sometimes just getting cold easy, and he doesn't realize he does it. he's become accustomed to tremors, shaky little breaths. but robby notices, every time, is so quick to tug his puppy snug into his lap, envelope him in warmth and give him slow, gentle belly rubs til the trembling subsides. shh, pup, you're okay. papa's here, you're alright. there you go.
