Regressuary #3 with Buck & Bobby please ❤️ I need a good heartwarming story to get me out of a slump!
You got it! 💙 This did veer into some very light angst for about two seconds, but I promise everything is fixed by the end and it doesn't last long at all.
3—Character A is busy with work, but Character B keeps coming into their workspace with toys trying to get them to play.
———
Someone's giggling.
Bobby looks up from the mountain of paperwork he's buried under just in time to see a hand set another plastic farm animal on his desk, biting back a smile.
It's the time of year where everyone’s yearly evaluations are due, and he's willing to admit he should have planned this a bit better—everyone else who could've watched Buck today is either working, or resting at home after yesterday's forty-eight hour shift.
Bobby had to go into the station and get the evals finished on time, and Buck is dropped, so here they are: Buck trying to get him to play by piling toys on the edge of his desk, and Bobby doing what he can to entertain him by pretending he doesn't know where they're all coming from.
“How’d this get here?” He tilts his head a little, eyes wide as he gestures to the row of animals. “I swear every time I look there are more of them. Are they multiplying somehow?”
The giggling gets louder. Bobby shakes his head fondly, snapping a quick picture to send to Maddie so she can see the progress on her break.
He's up to almost everything but the barn itself at this point. Still convinced I don't know he's doing it, too.
He makes it through another evaluation before she hearts the text and replies. Watch out—if he's almost done putting the animals up there, he's probably gonna try to get the barn on your desk too.
Despite the warning, he gets through two more with only a handful of the chickens and goats being added to the lineup. (The animals are slowly taking up more of his desk, but it's keeping Buck happy and nothing is actively on top of the paperwork, so Bobby can't bring himself to mind.)
He makes sure to wait until Buck’s back on the couch with Ember—and Steve, who's out because Buck had been nearly in tears at the thought of the dalmatian being in a desk drawer by himself—again before he looks up and widens his eyes.
“Do you see all these?” he asks in exaggerated shock, forcing down a grin as Buck nods and bursts into giggles again. You do? Well, d’you know who put them here? It must've been one of the guys from this shift, right? It couldn't have been you, you've been on the couch this whole time.”
Buck laughs harder. “I dunno, Daddy,” he gasps out as the laughing fit dies down, “may-maybe the am’nals wan’ you to play.”
Ah. Bobby should've expected he’d drop a little younger, given the long shift. It's rare, but it happens. He smothers a wince—if Buck’s slipped to under four right now, he's not likely to take Bobby splitting his attention very well, not with what that’d meant for him growing up. “I’d like to play too, Bug. You think you and the animals can wait until I get this grown-up stuff done, though? I need to finish these.”
He gets a ‘kay in response, but Buck’s eyes glitter with mischief. Bobby braces himself for something.
Sure enough, he doesn't get through more than a quarter of the next evaluation before things go suspiciously quiet. When he looks up, Buck has the barn from the station’s farm playset in his arms.
Bobby feels awful for putting an end to this game, but it won't fit on the desk without covering up the stack of paperwork he's got in front of him; so he has no choice. “Uh-uh,” he says as gently as he can while still sounding like he means it. “That can't come up on the desk right now, buddy. There's no room with all the papers here.”
Buck’s face falls. “Daddy play,” he says, taking another step toward the desk like he thinks Bobby might not notice; tears welling in his eyes as Bobby stands up.
“Daddy can't play right now, Bug,” he says patiently as he walks over to Buck. He manages to ease the toy from his kid’s grip and set it back down on the carpet before Buck starts crying in earnest; and he immediately scoops him into a hug and carries him over to the couch.
Bobby’s knees can take carrying Buck for short distances, and the rest of the paperwork can wait until he's not on the brink of a crying fit—so a calm-down cuddle it is. “Baby,” Bobby says softly as he gets them both settled, Buck curling into him and clutching a fistful of his shirt as he whimpers, “Daddy isn't trying to be mean. I’d love to play with you. I just have to get this done first.”
“Why?” Buck pouts up at him, lifting one hand to rub at his eyes, still sniffling. Bobby snags a tissue from the box on the side table and dabs at his eyes a little more gently as he insists “Daddy c’n play now.”
“If I stop to play right now we'll have to be here even longer, Bug.” Bobby grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and tucks it around Buck in a partial cocoon. “And I don't know about you, but I think we could probably have a lot more fun at home, or at the playground, or any other place we can think of; so I wanna get this done as soon as I can.”
Buck’s tears slow. He's still pouting, but he twists to look curiously over at the desk. “Why you hafta?” he asks, shooting the pile of paperwork a look of such clear annoyance that Bobby has to laugh.
“Because I’d like to keep being captain, and it's part of the job. You wanna know a secret?” he whispers conspiratorially. Buck giggles a little and nods, and Bobby grins. “I don't like this either. I really don't. It's part of why I wanna get this finished up and go home. I am very, very bored right now, kiddo.”
He pulls a face, relieved when it works and Buck cracks up into another laughing fit. “Shhh now,” he says, mock-stern but not bothering to hide a smile. “You don't want anybody to figure out my secret, do you?”
His boy shushes him back around his giggles, still laughing a little as he tucks his head down onto his chest. “You hafta?” he asks after a minute, and Bobby presses a kiss to the top of his head.
“If we don't wanna spend the rest of the day here, then yes. I do have to.”
Buck kisses his cheek before he wriggles out of Bobby’s lap and goes over to the backpack they brought, digging around inside and pulling out his crayons. “I help,” he says decisively, and Bobby resists the urge to coo at him.
“I think it would be a lot of help if you sat with me while I worked on these,” he agrees as he walks over to the backpack and pulls out the little drawing board with the water pen on a chord, “but you’d help me more if you used this.”
Buck’s expression twists, and Bobby can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out if this is worth getting upset over. “Crayons,” he tries, holding the box tighter as he tugs on the water pen.
Bobby opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out one of the little reusable coloring books he's started keeping in there, holding it out. It's essentially the same thing without the pen physically attached, so he's hoping it'll fix the problem. “How about this? We can't have crayon around grown-up papers, Bug. I promise you, you'll help with this just as much.”
Buck takes it, flipping it over twice before he pulls out the water pen. He seems satisfied enough when he sees it's not attached to the coloring book, nodding even as he sighs. “‘Kay. You're sure no crayons?”
Bobby schools his expression into something serious even as he forces down a laugh. “Would I lie to you about the job you're helping me with?” he asks, and Buck shakes his head. “That's right. Now, are Ember and Steve coming to help us too?”
It takes a few minutes to get situated—and there's another near-meltdown when Buck can't quite manage to keep hold of both stuffed animals and hold the blanket around himself as he climbs into Bobby’s lap—but they get there in the end, and soon Bobby’s made it through the next stack of evals without any interruptions.
“How you doing, kiddo?”
“Good. Helpin’,” Buck mumbles, tongue sticking out in concentration as he swipes his pen over a drawing of Lilo and Stitch. Bobby presses a kiss to his temple.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hamilton - Miranda
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan
Characters: Thomas Jefferson
Additional Tags: Polyhamilsquad, Polyamory, Non-Sexual Age Play, CGLRE, Age Regression, therapeutic age regression, little alex!, little! thomas, Modern AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, oh jeeze i tried, no editing we die like men, its small and probably bad, i had to go back and read so much cus i could hardly remember what i've estabblished in this au, idek, also john is mentioned but he doesn't feature in this
Series: Part 10 of CGLRE-Hamilton
Summary:
The Library was the last straw. ALexnader swore to himself he wouldn't let himself be little.
(Did I see this tag late? Yes. Am I doing this anyway? Also yes.)
I was tagged by the very kind @madasateacup. Thank you so much, Argos! <3
This is a snippet from the opening of the “Maddie comes to LA” installment, where everyone gets a little bit of a shock. >:) (My muse strikes when and where it wants, so this might not be the next one posted. We’ll find out together.)
———
Maddie hadn't planned for this.
Sure, her brother wasn't at the last address she had for him, but she’d figured something like this might happen—Evan moves around a lot. Something was bound to get lost in the mail one of these days. She'd just gotten his new address from his last roommates, told the building super she was his sister planning to surprise him, and let herself into his apartment.
None of them mentioned anything about him having a roommate, though. Which means she's a little caught off guard when someone else walks through the door.
Maddie blinks in shock. So does the poor guy who's just come home to find a total fucking stranger on his couch—and fuck, Maddie really, really hopes he can't tell she's dropped. Before she can start to panic about being let into the wrong apartment by mistake, she hears Evan’s voice out in the hallway.
“No, I think it was—”
He catches sight of her over the guy's shoulder, and whatever he's about to say cuts off. He freezes right along with her and the stranger.
It's enough to snap her out of her shock—Evan can be kind of shy depending on how little he's feeling, so if he's dropped from the surprise it's on her to introduce herself. She holds out a hand to the guy who's still standing in the doorway.
“Hi. I’m Maddie; I’m his sister”—she nods to Evan, who's still frozen behind him—”and I hope I’m in the right apartment right now. I came to surprise him and he wasn't at his last address, I didn't mean to—I didn't know anyone else would be here. I'm sorry if I scared you.”
———
No pressure tagging @actualalligator @laneybishop89 and @anewkindofme (Hi, I’ve never interacted much with two of you before now so I’m not sure if this is weird—but I love your work! 😅)
Oooh can you do prompt #4 with our little family and Buck as character A please? 🥹
“Our little family” has me—🥹 It means so much to me that other people love these guys too, thank you so much for the ask.
Since you didn't specify a Person C, I went with Maddie. I hope you like a bit of angstfluff. 💙
4—Character A is refusing to go to bed without a call from Character C. After spending far too much time trying to get A to sleep and failing, Character B finally caves and gets C on the phone.
(Warning for brief mentions of the events of Fight Or Flight, but this all takes place afterwards when Maddie’s recovering in the hospital.)
———
“I wanna talk to my Maddie.”
Buck doesn't understand why Daddy isn't calling her already. Today was the scariest day ever—Maddie was gone when Daddy and Buck went to see her yesterday, and then Chim was really, really hurt; and once he was safe in the hospital Buck and Mama had to look for forever before they found Maddie—and she was really, really hurt too when they finally found her. So hurt Buck thought maybe she was gonna die.
She didn't, but lotsa scary stuff happened after that. Mama had to say a lot of things to the hospital people before they’d even let ‘em back so Maddie wouldn't be alone when she woke up.
Buck didn't wanna leave her when it got dark, he wanted to stay. The hospital people coulda brought beds and everything. But Maddie wasn't all sleepy anymore by then, and her and Mama and Daddy had one of those talks grown-ups have with just their eyes, and then she said she wanted him and Daddy to get some sleep in the hotel room they got while Mama stayed there with her.
Buck almost cried, but then Maddie said it’d help her sleep better if she knew he was in a real bed. He wanted her to sleep good, so he’d tried to be brave and do what she asked.
He doesn't feel brave anymore. Not at all. He's lots smaller than he was when he left the hospital, and he just wants his Maddie.
“Bug,” Daddy starts, and Buck feels like he's gonna start crying 'cause when Daddy says anything in that voice it always means no. Buck keeps asking, and Daddy keeps saying he and Maddie need to get some sleep, but Buck can't sleep 'cause he needs Maddie—
“Daddy,” he whimpers, “I need my Maddie. Please.”
“Alright. Alright, baby, we’ll call her. I need you both to try your best to sleep after though, okay?”
Buck nods real fast before Daddy can take it back, and Daddy pulls out his phone and calls Mama. He tells her Buck's gotta talk to Maddie, and then he puts the phone down on the bed and Maddie's saying “Hey, Bug,” and Buck can't help it.
He cries for real, like he did when they couldn't find her, and Daddy rubs his back and rocks him and both him and Maddie make “shhh” noises and say it's okay ‘til he's all cried out.
“Bobby,” Maddie says in a voice that makes him think Daddy's maybe about to get in trouble, “I told you to let him call if he needed to call.”
Daddy sighs, but Buck can tell he isn't really mad or anything. “I know.”
“I mean, I said it like three times.”
“I know, Mads; I told you I was gonna try to let you get some sleep.”
Maddie makes a grumpy little noise at that, and Buck giggles a little. “Please. You really think I would've been able to sleep without you guys calling me? C’mon.”
Daddy laughs a little. “I can practically hear that eyeroll, you little punk.”
“Sure you can, old man. Bug, you know he goes to bed at, like, sunset. What are you guys doing up?” Maddie laughs a little when she says it, and Daddy makes an annoyed sound and says something about mid-forties not being that old, but it just makes Buck sad ‘cause she's not with ‘em.
“Missed you,” he whispers, holding Ember tighter when that makes Maddie’s voice go all sad.
“Oh, bud. I know. I miss you too. But you remember what we talked about before you left, right? I have to stay here and get better for a little bit, and then it's gonna be a few more days in the hospital in LA, and then I’ll be home.”
“I come stay with you,” Buck tries. He thinks he might start crying when that just makes everybody say no at the same time.
“We talked about that too, remember? I'll sleep better if I know you're sleeping in a real bed. And listen—” Maddie says real fast when Buck does start crying a little again “—shhh, you're okay. It's okay. Listen, somebody's gotta go make sure everything's set up before I get home, right? Somebody has to go make sure Flynn’s doing good. You think you can help Bobby with all that for me? It's gonna be a big job.”
Buck sniffles. “I c’n help.”
“I know you can.” Maddie's voice sounds like she's smiling. “It’d help a lot if I knew you were getting some sleep, too. You guys in bed yet?”
Buck shakes his head, and Daddy says “We haven't quite made it to that point yet,” and Maddie makes a fake-mad noise.
“I'm gone one day, and you start giving him a later bedtime? Not cool, we’re totally renegotiating mine when I'm small.” Daddy rolls his eyes at that, and Buck giggles a little. “Let him tuck you in, Bug. This is so unfair.”
Buck climbs under the covers when Daddy holds them open; he tucks him in with the special fox blanket Maddie got him first before he pulls up the big blanket on the bed. It makes Buck miss her even more. “Don’ go!”
“Who said I was going anywhere, huh? I bet you can think of tons of fun things for us to do when I get out of here. What's the first thing you wanna do?”
Buck starts thinking of stuff, but he's asleep before he can tell her how much fun they could have at the pier.
Can I get uhhhhhhhh, a number 1 for the Regressuary prompts with Bobby and Buck please?
*terrible drive-thru intercom noises* That's a number one with a little bonus angst? Gotcha. Pull up to the next window.
1—When Character A doesn't show up for a hangout/appointment/school/work and won't answer anyone's calls or texts, Character B gets worried and goes to their home to check up on them.
I was inspired by Chapter 18 of @laneybishop89’s wonderful A Little Comfort when it came to the reason for Buck being MIA—I hope that’s alright, Laney! If any of you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend it.
(I decided to go with a non-Littles-Are-Known ‘verse for this one. I hope you like it, Nightmare! <3 )
———
Buck's twenty minutes late to their standing family dinner.
Any other day, that wouldn't be a major cause for concern: Buck can get wrapped up in what he's doing sometimes—usually finishing up a side-dish to bring over—and lose track of the time.
It's just that he usually texts or calls to say he's running late. Going radio-silent like this isn't normal, and by the time twenty minutes turns into forty-five and even Maddie can't get a reply from him, everyone is worried. Which is why Bobby's standing in the hallway outside his apartment, key in hand.
(It doesn't help that their parents showed up unannounced this week, he knows. From what he's heard about them, he knows that's bound to knock both his kids for a loop.)
“Buck, it's Bobby. We all got a little worried when you didn't show up for dinner. I'm coming in to check on you, alright?”
No response. Bobby tries his best to ignore the pit in his stomach as he turns the key in the lock and steps inside. He has the feeling Buck's either sick or little right now or both—and any of those things would mean he’s in no state to be left alone. Even if he isn't dropped, Buck tends to run pretty high fevers when he's sick.
Bobby shuts the door behind him, glancing around the living room and kitchen. No sign of Buck. The pit in his stomach grows as he makes his way towards the bedroom; Bobby shoves it aside again as he calls out. “Buck? You in here?” No-one's in the bed, but maybe—
There's a small noise like someone doing their best to muffle a sob. Bobby turns to look at the closet and sees that the door's cracked.
There you are, bud. Had us scared for a minute there.
He's willing to bet this is a drop, so he sits down facing the closet, leaning against the bed. He’ll open the door himself if he has to, but if his kid's upset enough to hide, it's best to let Buck come to him. “Hey,” Bobby says softly. “Anybody in there?”
“No.” There's another sniffle. Bobby's hand twitches with the urge to just pull him from the closet and wrap him in a hug.
“No? Well, would the person who's not here like to come to dinner? I'm looking for one of my kids, but I can't seem to find him anywhere. You seem like you might be a nice friend for him once he gets back.”
That earns him a watery little giggle. The closet door opens a little more, and Buck's red-rimmed eyes peek out at him. “S’me,” he says quietly, and Bobby breaks into a smile.
“There you are. You wanna come over here? You're not in trouble, bud. We just got a little worried when you didn't show up for dinner earlier.”
Buck winces, but he slowly uncurls himself and makes his way out of the closet as Bobby pats the floor beside him, moving over to settle against his side. “M'sorry.” His voice is shaking, clearly on the brink of more tears, and Bobby's heart breaks as he shushes him.
“It's okay, Little Lion. I just need to know what happened, okay? It's not like you to not let anyone know when you feel this way. Are you sick?” He can't feel any heat radiating off him, but he moves his hand to Buck's forehead to check anyway.
“No,” Buck mumbles. He shifts to press his face into Bobby's side with a whine. “They wouldn' like this.”
Ah. Bobby's first instinct was right, then. He thinks back to Maddie's tentative explanation a year ago—It's something he used to do a lot when they weren't around, something we both did; we just…slip sometimes—and feels a renewed surge of hatred for the Buckley parents. Forcing Maddie to carry her grief for Daniel by herself for most of her life was horrible enough, making Buck feel insecure about doing what he needs to do to cope is just one more thing Bobby will never forgive them for.
“Can you look at Daddy, bud?” Bobby coos a little as Buck slowly peeks up at him. “Oh, good job. You know I’m happy to do this for you, right? You and your sister. Mama and I both are. I know this week's visit probably made you feel bad, but we really like doing this for you guys.” He waits until Buck nods and clings a bit tighter before he asks softly if he can call Maddie.
She's relieved to hear Bobby has him; angry but not surprised to hear that their parents upset him (and swearing so much Bobby knows he's dealing with a teenager)—and then she breathes deeply and asks him to hand the phone to Buck.
Bobby can't quite make out what she's saying, but her voice is gentle and patient and Buck is giggling a little by the time he hands the phone back, even if the conversation started with a few watery “I know”s.
He's quick to pull his boy to his feet once Buck quietly says he's ready to go. They have a family dinner to get to.
if you took #6 from regressuary and made it Maddie on the run from Doug/the BP with Bug and then when they met Bobby she was free to be Bun :)
Okay, I see the vision! The first half is set a few months before Maddie leaves/moves in with Doug, and the second half is set a few weeks or so after she's started dropping little around Bobby. (I took some liberties with the first half, so it’s less “on the run” and more “they’ve spent the day avoiding their parents and now they have to go home.”)
Warning for mentions of past domestic abuse. (Nothing is described in detail, but Bun is thinking about past experiences and has a brief panic attack at the thought of Bobby being angry with them.)
6—On a long drive, Character A has to find a way to soothe a very fussy Character B.
———
Evan’s been upset since they got back in the car.
Not that Maddie blames him. As dismissive as their parents can be, they're always worse when he's dropped—and now they have to head back to the house. It's getting late enough that if they stay out much longer, Mom and Dad are bound to yell even more than usual.
Maddie had bundled Evan into the car the second he’d dropped and picked a town about an hour away, and they've spent the day having as much fun as they can at the arcade there. She'd been hoping the long car ride back would lull him to sleep, that maybe if they came back looking tired enough, they could skip the lecture about Maddie “babying her brother.”
(The same one they give her anytime she does anything for him when he's dropped…while Evan stands right next to her and looks like he wants to disappear. She hates them sometimes, for making him look like that. She hates them sometimes for a lot of things.)
It doesn't seem like her plan is gonna work, though. With the way he’s crying, she thinks this might last until well after they pull into their driveway. Maddie can't take him back home like this. Their parents will take one look at his face and start snapping at him, and that'll only upset him more.
Somewhere deep down, she's angry about that—because they should care, shouldn't they? They should care if their kids are small and upset, and they should care about whether or not they're making it worse—but she pushes it down further, unbuckling her seatbelt and shifting in her seat to face Evan. He needs her more than she needs to be mad at their parents, right now.
“Ev,” she says gently, reaching out to set a hand on his knee and trying not to wince as he twitches it off and glares at her. “C’mon, bud. We gotta go home. They're closing now; we can't stay out much longer.”
“Don' wanna!” Maddie thinks he probably means to scream it, but he's crying so hard it just comes out as a choked half-sob. She has to fight not to grimace at the thought of how sore his throat's gonna be tomorrow, between this and all the shouting they had to do to hear each other over the noise of the arcade earlier.
“I know you don't,” she says as calmly as she can. “I know you don't. I don't either, Ev. I’d rather stay out and keep having fun, too. But I don't want us getting in trouble, and Mom and Dad would get really mad if we were out after dark.”
“But th-they d-don' even like us!” Evan cries, and Maddie feels like she's been punched in the stomach. She's always known he's picked up on how their parents see them; it's not like they make a ton of effort to really be there for either of them unless someone's gotten hurt or sick—and even then, they usually get them set up on the couch or in bed and disappear ‘til they need food or something.
She knows he's known for a while, she just…this is the first time she's ever heard him say it.
“C’mere.” Maddie pulls him in for a hug. He doesn't shake her off this time; clings as tight as he can instead, pressing his face into her neck as his crying ramps up.
“Th-they d-don’ even l-like us!” he repeats, and Maddie shushes him and rubs his back and says I've got you, I've got you, I've got you over and over because what else can she say?
Evan’s right. Their parents don't like them, and he can see that even when he's dropped. They're not bad people, she doesn't think (hopes, really) but they're bad parents.
“Wh-why c-can't we j-just—” The sobbing cuts Evan off again and Maddie has to remind him to take a few deep breaths before he can manage to get a full sentence out. “I don' wanna go back,” he whimpers.
“I know,” Maddie whispers around the lump in her throat. “I know. But we can't just not go home. I could get in a lot of trouble for not bringing you back, Ev.”
It's something she's thought about more than once, but it's not worth the risk. Their parents don't want them around much, but Maddie’s sure they’d also be royally pissed off if she and Evan just ran—and Maddie’s not his legal guardian. Their parents have never physically hurt either of them. It's not like she has any concrete reason to take him and bolt.
“But you're a grown-up now.” Evan sniffles. Maddie reaches into the glove box for a couple napkins and does her best to wipe away some of his tears. He doesn't say so why don't you just leave and take me with you, but Maddie hears it anyway.
“Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can just take you somewhere and never come back, bud.” For a second, Maddie almost tells him about the plan Doug has. The one he's been talking about for a month or so now: the two of them finding a place, moving in together, and steadily offering to watch Evan more and more. Even if it doesn't convince their parents to just give them guardianship of him, it would at least mean he’d have somewhere to go to get away from them for a little while.
But she can't bring herself to say anything to him. Not yet. She and Doug haven't even found an apartment, and she doesn't want to get Evan’s hopes up for something that might take awhile.
Instead she says “Look, we have the whole weekend, right? We go home, we get up early tomorrow, we spend another day out having fun—and we'll have the whole day and not just after you get home from school because tomorrow's Saturday. You can pick where we're gonna go. How's that sound?”
Evan takes a minute to think about it, and Maddie leans back in her seat and waits, trying to seem as calm as she can. There really aren't any other options here; if the idea of a full day out away from their parents doesn't soothe him, she'll eventually have to buckle him in and go home no matter how upset he is—but she doesn't want to rush him.
Her baby brother always does better when he feels like he has a say in what they'll be doing, so Maddie tries to give him as many choices as she can whenever she can.
“Promise?” His cries have died down to sniffles as he holds out his pinky, and Maddie locks their fingers together and internally sighs in relief.
"Yeah, I promise. You okay with that? Can we head home?”
Evan nods. Maddie gets him buckled in and kisses his forehead before she turns back to the steering wheel, buckling her own seatbelt and biting her lip as she tries to figure out the best way to get him inside without their parents noticing he's still dropped.
Maybe her plan will work and he'll be half-asleep by the time they get there.
——
Buck’s kicking the back of Daddy’s seat a little. It makes Maddie’s stomach all twisty just looking at him, because that kinda thing would've gotten them in so much trouble before.
They had a really fun time at the pier, but Buck didn’t get to win all the prizes he wanted before they had to go home, and he's still mad about it. Maddie has to make herself be still and not jump when he whines again. “S'not fair! I wanted—” he makes another upset little noise and kicks the back of Daddy's seat even harder, and this time Maddie does jump a little 'cause Daddy sighs.
"I know you wanted to win more animals, Bug; we just didn't have great luck today. It might be better next time we go, and we'll come earlier so we can play longer—but kicking my seat like that won't get you anything other than a time-out, bud. I’m not going to go back because you throw a fit. It's late, and we need to get some real food in our stomachs, okay? We'll come back another time.” He sounds calm and nice and not mad enough to yell yet, but Maddie’s still kinda scared.
She didn’t even mean to be this small, really; she was older the whole time they were at the pier ‘cause she mostly still doesn’t feel safe like this when there’s more than a few people around—but she was kinda tired after they got back to the truck, and it’s starting to feel safer and safer to be this little when it’s just with Buck and Daddy.
Mostly, anyway. Not so much right now.
Right now she’s worried about what might happen if Buck doesn’t calm down and Daddy starts getting mad at them. Their other parents used to yell forever whenever Buck was small and upset like this, and after, when she wasn't living at home with Buck anymore…
Maddie knows grown-ups can do a lot worse than yell, if they're angry enough.
She doesn't think Daddy would ever hurt them, but sometimes it's hard to be sure when she's scared. She hasn't really been around long enough to know for sure what happens when they get in trouble, and that just makes this even scarier.
"It's okay.” Maddie reaches over to take Buck's hand. Maybe if she can help him calm down a little bit, Daddy won't get mad. “It's okay, he said we can go early and maybe get more next time. You still did really good,” she says, 'cause he did. There are three whole new stuffed animals with them in the backseat, and Buck won two of them. They're not the really giant ones, but still.
It doesn't work. Buck just yanks his hand back and keeps crying and kicking Daddy's seat, and Maddie has to fight to hold in a whimper 'cause she can't calm him down when she's like this and 'cause Daddy's probably gonna get really mad when he doesn't stop.
“Bug,” Daddy says, and Maddie feels kinda sick 'cause she can hear the warning in his voice, “you kick my seat again and you're going straight into time-out when we get home.”
Maddie bites her lip to hold in another whimper, looking over at Buck. He can hear how mad Daddy’s getting, can't he? Even if he doesn't hurt them, he's gonna yell so much—that's what every grown-up does when they're bad. But maybe Buck will listen, now. Maybe it'll be okay.
Maddie waits, and watches, and hopes Buck calms down.
And then her brother kicks Daddy's seat again, and Maddie feels like she can't breathe right 'cause she's sure Daddy's gonna be mad enough to do something, even if it's just yelling. She's so scared, she doesn't even realize the truck has stopped ‘til Daddy's coming around to the backseat. She thinks maybe Buck is saying something, but she can't really hear the words.
She's older on instinct before she can even really think about it—and as Bobby opens the door and looks at her like she's a kicked puppy, hands held up cautiously, she realizes she must have held her arm out on reflex to protect Buck. He’s clinging to her with everything he's got, looking upset for a completely different reason now. “Shit,” Maddie breathes, wincing at the swear as she cuts an apologetic glance at Bobby. “I’m-I’m sorry. I swear I don't think you’d—” She swallows hard.
"No, I know,” Bobby says quickly. He lowers his hands slowly, still looking at her like he's worried he's accidentally hurt her somehow. “I know it was a reflex. That's on me, I should've—”
“No, it's—you're fine. You caught that I was panicking and…it's alright, really.” She sighs shakily and slumps back against the seat as the adrenaline drains out of her, jerking her head towards Buck, who's still watching her with wide, scared eyes. Bobby nods and heads around to the other side as Maddie shuts her door.
"I’m okay,” she says softly, and Bobby nods in confirmation as he climbs into the backseat and crouches down in front of Buck.
“Everyone’s alright, Bug.” He reaches out to run a thumb across Buck's cheek and swipe at the tears there, and the bug lets out a shaky little breath as he does. “Maddie got a little scared for a second, but everyone's alright.”
Buck doesn't look convinced at all. He's still got her arm wrapped in a death-grip, clutched close to his chest. "That was scary. You couldn'—your breathin’ was all wrong. You were—” He's crying again, words catching on a sob. Maddie kicks herself internally as she pulls him closer and runs her fingers through his hair.
“It's alright,” she and Bobby both say at the same time. Normally that's the sort of thing that would make Buck giggle, but right now he just whines, shaking his head and clinging tighter.
“Yeah, it is. I promise.” Maddie holds her pinky out, trying to figure out how to explain what just happened. They've talked about this before—tried to explain that she might be more easily scared in her younger headspace—but hearing about it and seeing it are two different things, especially when the bug is this young. “You know how we both went through a lot of bad stuff with other people?” she asks softly as he locks his finger around hers.
Buck sniffles and nods, leaning back a little to peer warily up at her like he's still not convinced she isn’t dying or something. “Uh-huh.”
“I remember a lot of that stuff when I’m small, because a lot of it happened then. And even though I know Bobby’s safe, it's…” Maddie tries to figure out how to say this in a way that won't scar him. “You haven't gotten in trouble since I’ve started dropping little ‘til right now, and getting in trouble meant something a little scarier the last time I felt this small, so when I saw him coming to check on us…”
She doesn't say anything else, but Buck figures it out anyway. She can see him aging up a little, face serious as he lets go of her arm to hold her hand. “Daddy won't hurt us. Not ever. I’d never let anyone hurt you ever again,” he says with as much protectiveness as a seven-year-old can manage. Maddie blinks back tears and swallows around the sudden lump in her throat.
“I know. It's just—it can be a little hard to feel safe sometimes when I’m smaller. I’m still getting used to it.”
Buck nods. “So if you start breathing wrong like that when you're small, it's 'cause you're scared.” He sounds a lot calmer now. She wouldn't be surprised if he had honestly thought she was dying—watching someone have a panic attack at four-years-old has gotta be terrifying. “Okay. If it happens again I'll get Daddy."
Maddie kisses his temple as the lump in her throat gets bigger. “Sounds like a plan, Bug.”
“A very good plan,” Bobby agrees. “I want to be able to help you both whenever you get scared. Now, d'you wanna tell us why you got so upset earlier?” He shifts from where he's been crouched in front of the bug to sit on his other side. “You know we can't stay out forever. Why'd it bother you so much this time, huh? We always come back eventually.”
Buck looks back at Maddie like he's checking her over, and then—apparently satisfied she isn't on the brink of panicking or possibly dying anymore—practically melts into Bobby's side, face half buried in his chest as he ages back down again. “Wanted the unicorn,” he mumbles, clutching a handful of Bobby’s shirt.
"You were having a lot of big feelings about that, huh? Can you tell Daddy why you want the unicorn so much? It's not like you to pitch fits like this, Bug.”
“Wanted it for Maddie,” he says quietly, and oh, she's gonna feel terrible about that next time she's younger.
"You can win me something cool next time,” she reminds him, reaching over and ruffling his hair. “It doesn't have to be that unicorn, Bug. They might have something even better next time we come.”
“No, wanted that one.” He seems too exhausted for another full-on tantrum, but he’s obviously still upset, squirming around in Bobby’s lap. Maddie takes his free hand.
"Hey. That's really sweet, but I'll like whatever you get me next time. It doesn't have to be that unicorn, okay? I promise.” Buck locks his pinky around hers, and Maddie smiles softly at him. “Good. This isn't worth fighting over, Bug. There are gonna be cooler things to win at some point, I swear.” She leans forward to kiss his forehead, about to tell him he should apologize to Bobby when he beats her to the punch.
"M'sorry I kicked, Daddy,” he says softly, toying with Bobby’s shirt. “No time-out?” he tries, and Bobby kisses the top of his head and rubs his back.
"Yes, time-out.” Buck whines, and he tsks a little. “You knew what would happen if you kicked my seat again, Bug. Five minutes in time-out when we get home. It's gonna be okay, and we both still love you.”
Maddie nods, watching as the residual fight drains out of him. “‘Kay,” he mumbles. “Love you.”
Bobby gets him situated on his side of the backseat before he crouches down in front of her. “I know I startled you earlier, and I don't want to push you into anything, but if you need to—”
"If I need to drop younger again, you've got me,” Maddie finishes. “I know.” She shoots him a half-smile. “The guilt won't be pretty,” she warns, and he gives her a sad little half-smile of his own.
“I know. It's a process. I've still got you either way.”
She nods, sighing and letting herself sink back down by degrees as she closes her eyes.
When she opens them again Daddy's looking at her all worried, and Maddie feels really, really bad. “M'sorry,” she whimpers, 'cause she's the reason Buck got all upset in the first place. Daddy looks even more worried as he reaches out real slow, waiting to see if she wants a hug or not.
Maddie likes that he waits. It makes her feel safer. She leans forward for a hug and Daddy kisses her forehead and holds her. “You don't have to be sorry, honey. This is nobody's fault; I think we're all just hungry and a little tired and your brother got overwhelmed. It happens.”
"But he was trying to be nice,” Maddie whispers. The kicking wasn't so nice, but trying to get her a unicorn was. Talking back is bad, she knows that from before—but it's better to remind Daddy that Buck was trying to do something good. Time-out seems way less safe than it did a minute ago, and what if—
“Hey,” Daddy says softly, pulling back to cup her face and making shushing noises. “Baby, he’s okay. Everyone's okay, and I’m not mad at anybody. I promise.” Daddy holds out his pinky and Maddie hooks her own around it, but her stomach still feels bad. She thinks Daddy can tell, by the way he's looking at her.
“Does time-out still sound scary?” he asks softly, and Maddie nods 'cause he already knows and she doesn't wanna get in trouble for lying. “Yeah, I thought it might. I’m never, ever gonna punish either of you in any way that hurts, but that’s not easy to remember when you’re scared, is it?”
Maddie shakes her head. Daddy kisses her forehead again. “That’s alright, honey. I’m gonna keep reminding you as much as you need, okay? Would it help to sit with me while Buck’s in time-out so you can see where we both are?“
“Yeah,” Maddie whispers. She’s still really nervous about it, but it’ll probably be less scary if everybody’s at least in the same room.
“Yeah? Then that’s what we’ll do. You want some cuddles before we head back home?” He picks her up when she nods and sits down next to Buck. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
He holds them ‘til Maddie’s stomach feels a little better, and he doesn't look as worried anymore when he moves to drive home. Buck takes her hand once Daddy's back in the front seat again.
“Time out's no fun, but it's not gonna hurt. Don't worry.”
Maddie thinks about how nice Daddy was earlier; how worried he was he might have scared her.
As nervous as she still is, it makes it a little easier to believe that.
I totally commented this on a post of yours, but I thought I’d sent it to you as an ask cause I love in love with the idea the more I wrote it out!
I’d love to see #19 with Bug & Bobby, especially after a long shift & Bobby falls asleep so Bug takes it upon himself to make them lunch except he gets a little side tracked along the way, which leads to Bobby waking up to a huge mess!! 🥺
Thanks! ❤️❤️❤️
Can do! Poor Bobby is in for a mess here. 😂
(#19 is what's mentioned in the ask, but birthmarkedbabyblues and I have spitballed for this one in DMs, and I'm going with #21 here—with their permission—because it lines up a little better with the prompt they were going for. I’m mixing in a “waking up to chaos” scene for the best of both worlds on this one. 😉)
21—Character A wants to make breakfast for Character B. One very messy kitchen later, A is somewhat successful in their attempt.
———
There's light coming through the window when Buck wakes up.
He was grown-up when he went to bed yesterday, but he woke up little in the middle of the night and went to Daddy's bed to sleep while it was still dark out, 'cause it was all stormy and Buck doesn't like being alone when there's thunder outside.
It's all sunny now, but Daddy's still not awake like he normally is. Buck thinks that's probably 'cause they had a 48-hour shift—they're both always really tired after those. Buck thinks he fell asleep first, though, so he's not as tired now. He only sort of remembers coming home; Daddy telling him to go get some sleep. He must have changed into pajamas and slept a lot after that ‘til the storm woke him up.
Usually, Daddy can tell when he wakes up: if it's still dark out, he says it's not time to get up yet and cuddles Buck back to sleep if he's had a bad dream—and if it's light out, they get up and he lets Buck and Maddie help make breakfast. He must be really tired still, 'cause Buck’s been awake for a couple minutes now and he's still sleeping.
Buck guesses he could go watch TV ‘til Daddy gets up. He can wait a little bit for breakfast, and if he gets really hungry before then he can have some yogurt or something—one of the cotton candy flavored ones him and Maddie like when they're little.
He’s about to go out to the living room and find something to watch when he looks over at Daddy again and gets an idea. He could go watch something ‘til Daddy's awake…
Or he could surprise him and already have breakfast made once he gets up.
Buck nods to himself, moving really slow and careful as he grabs Ember and gets out of bed so he won't wake Daddy—'cause obviously he needs more sleep. He does his best to tuck the covers around Daddy a little more so he'll stay nice and comfy, and then he walks quietly out to the living room.
It should be easy enough, he thinks. He cooks all the time when he's grown-up, and Daddy deserves not to have to do so much after yesterday. Buck sets Ember on one of the chairs at the table and gets the cups out of the cabinet (the plastic ones, 'cause he still remembers the time he broke the glass on accident and Maddie got real scared; so plastic is probably better right now), trying to be really, really super careful while he pours orange juice into them both.
He puts both cups far away from the end of the counter so he won't knock them over, and he turns to the fridge.
And that's when Buck realizes there's kinda a problem, 'cause he's not allowed to touch the stove when he's little. Not unless somebody left it on by accident or he felt little real fast in the middle of cooking or something and he's turning it off. That's one of the first rules Daddy ever gave him when he started living here—and it's one of the big serious ones. Daddy would probably be really upset if he broke it even for a surprise like this, 'cause he always says that one is about keeping Buck safe.
Buck almost goes to ask Maddie for help—'cause even if he's not grown-up enough to touch the stove, she could get grown-up enough for it to be safe even if she felt small at first, probably—but then he remembers Maddie’s not here. She's at work, 'cause sometimes they don't always have the same days off.
Buck could call her or text her to see if she has any ideas (he's always allowed to do that if he needs her when she's at work, she says)—but if he does that, he's pretty sure Maddie will just get all worried about him trying to make breakfast while he's not grown-up. Then she'll call Daddy and tell him, and the surprise will be wrecked 'cause he'll know before he sees everything.
No, Buck can't call his Maddie for help on this one. He knows it's only 'cause they love him, but they both worry a lot about him trying to do grown-up stuff when he's little—even though six is probably big enough that he’d be fine to make breakfast.
He bites his lip as he thinks. If he can't use the stove, he probably shouldn't try to make bacon, 'cause he knows from some of Maddie’s nurse stories that that can make people sick if it's not cooked enough. He could just make cereal, but Daddy deserves a really special breakfast the way he always makes for them, and Daddy doesn't usually just make cereal unless that's what they ask for.
Buck turns to the kitchen table and looks at Ember. “What do I do?”
Ember wonders if he can maybe get away with breaking the rule just this once, since it's for something nice, but Buck shakes his head. “I don't think so. I think I’d get in so much trouble, I’d be in time-out forever.”
They both think for a minute, and then his fox remembers there are waffles in the freezer. Daddy likes making his own when he has time, but he still buys the ones from the store for when he's too tired from work to make everything from scratch.
Buck could make those. He wouldn't need the stove for it, and the toaster’s probably safe enough for him to use that Daddy won't even be worried when he finds out Buck cooked breakfast without him. Buck nods, going over to the freezer and pulling out a couple blueberry waffles 'cause he and Daddy both like them. “Good idea.”
He looks at the back of the box to see how long the waffles have to cook for, and then he puts them in the toaster and tries to figure out what else he can make.
They need protein, Buck knows, 'cause that's what Daddy always says when one of them is grown-up and late for something and running out the door without having breakfast—they always say they'll pick something up, and Daddy always gives them a look like he wishes he could say they can be late and to just stay and eat, so Buck knows it's probably important. He just doesn't know what else he can make without the stove.
Eggs, maybe? He thinks he's seen videos of people doing that kinda thing online. He doesn't wanna just make them in coffee mugs the way he's seen, though—that doesn't seem like it'll be enough. He can just mix them up in a bowl the way Daddy does and then put the bowl in the microwave, probably, and that should work.
Buck nods to himself, getting four eggs out of the carton in the fridge and trying to be real careful not to get any shell in when he cracks them into a bowl. He puts salt and pepper in and mixes them together with a fork the way Daddy always does, and then he stares at the microwave for a minute while he tries to figure out how long they need to cook. Probably longer than making them on the stove, he thinks, since the microwave cooks stuff slower.
He sets the time and goes back to the living room to wait for everything to cook.
It's gonna be a while, and that means Buck has time find something fun for them to watch once Daddy’s awake.
——
Buck isn't beside him. That's the first thing Bobby registers, still mostly half-asleep, but he's not sure why it feels off.
Because that's not necessarily odd in and of itself—Buck hadn't been little when they went to bed yesterday, had he? He’d been fully adult, gone to crash in his own bed, and then…then there had been a storm. Bobby remembers that now, there had been a storm and he'd woken up to a particularly loud rumble of thunder and his boy bolting into the room not a minute later; immediately pressing himself as close to Bobby’s side as he could get.
Bobby frowns as he gets out of bed, throwing his robe on over his pajamas and making his way towards the door. Buck is usually such a cuddler when he's dropped; something about this just seems wrong in a way he's not awake enough to place.
The smell hits him before he can process anything else.
Bobby bolts for the kitchen on instinct, heart racing as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Buck’s standing in the middle of the room, clearly panicking and about to reach for the door of the still-running microwave. Bobby gently pushes him aside on autopilot—and hears an upset little whimper he's sure he'll be kicking himself for causing, when his panic isn't through the roof—and presses the stop button, spinning on his heel to face the other counter as he realizes whatever's in there is only part of the problem.
He unplugs the toaster and sighs, running his hands over his face, not looking at Buck just yet. It's not hard to put together what happened: his boy wanted to surprise him and figured this was a safe enough workaround for using the stove while he was little. Bobby realizes that, now that the initial rush of adrenaline is dying down.
That doesn't mean it was any less terrifying to wake up to, but Buck wasn't trying to break a rule. Bobby holds onto that thought as he takes a few more deep breaths, willing the last of his nerves to fade before Buck works himself up too much. The Buckleys were the type to yell first and ask questions later, and neither of the kids do well with raised voices if they think someone's angry. Bobby can't deal with this until he's sure he's calm enough.
“Daddy?” Buck’s voice is shaking, barely louder than a whisper, and Bobby knows he can't just say silent. Any longer and his kid will just start imagining worst-case-scenarios—that he's in trouble; that Bobby’s angry enough about this to want him to leave after his year’s officially up; that he's finally crossed over the line into “too much to handle” and this is some sort of last straw.
They're still finding their footing, his kids; still working so hard to be able to believe they could never be too much for him to want to look after them. They've come a long way on that front, but the possibility of getting in trouble still tends to shake them; Bobby never wants to give them another reason to worry about whether or not they have a place here—their childhood already gave them enough of those.
He exhales slowly and turns to face Buck. “You're not in trouble, Bug,” he says as steadily as he can. “That was just a scary thing to wake up to.”
“M'sorry!” Buck whimpers. Bobby lifts an arm in invitation—still willing his nerves to settle before they talk about this—and Buck is quick to burrow close to his side, sniffling. “I didn't mean to, I just wanted you to have a good surprise.”
“I know you did, and that was really nice of you. I promise I’m not mad. That just scared me for a minute and I need to calm down before we talk about it, okay? I meant what I said, Bug, you're not in trouble.”
Buck nods, clinging tightly to Bobby’s arm and sniffling. Another minute or so passes in silence, but with one of his kids cuddled into his side and the other one safe at dispatch, the panic from earlier is fading.
Buck doesn't have a scratch on him, nothing other than his attempt at a meal was burned; this is nothing like what Bobby had been terrified of when he bolted into the kitchen a few minutes ago. “Okay,” he says calmly. “Daddy's gotta ask you a few questions. Did you use the stove at all?”
Buck shakes his head. “No. Wouldn' do that when m’not grown-up, promise.”
“Good. Good job remembering that rule, bud. Thank you for trying to be safe.” Bobby hooks his pinky around Buck’s, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Is there anything else you tried to make other than what's in the microwave and the toaster?”
“Orange juice,” Buck whispers, pointing to the counter. Now that Bobby’s not preoccupied with making sure nothing's on fire, he sees the glasses—plastic, set carefully out of the way. He looks over his shoulder at the kitchen table and spots the place settings there.
It's so clear his boy had been trying to help that Bobby can't bring himself to tell him this can't happen again. Not yet, at least. There will need to be a talk about it, he knows that—but Buck already looks like he's on the brink of tears. As long as anything else hasn't been left running and forgotten by accident, Bobby figures it can wait until they've both eaten (and he's had a few more minutes to think about how to say “you can't try to cook food when you're dropped anymore” without it just rubbing salt in the wound).
“You did a great job with that, bud,” he says instead. “And with setting the table, thank you so much. I need to check on the food to make sure it's safe though, okay?”
He waits for Buck’s miserable little nod before he moves, deciding to take a look at whatever’s in the microwave first. The waffles will be safe to eat even if they're burnt (and Bobby plans on choking down every last bite of his, because he'll be damned if his kid feels like everything he tried to do to get this meal together was all for nothing) but he gets the feeling whatever's in that bowl might be inedible at this point, and he can't risk either of them getting sick.
The eggs haven't cooked evenly at all, he can see that much before he even grabs a potholder to get the bowl out of the microwave. Buck must be able to see something in his expression, because the second Bobby turns back to him he starts crying in earnest. “Oh, bud,” Bobby says softly, setting the bowl down on the counter and moving to hold him. “C’mere. It’s alright.”
Buck presses his face into Bobby’s chest, sobbing something he can’t make out as he shushes and rubs his back. “What was that, Bug?” he asks gently.
“Bad,” Buck hiccups, the word half cut off by another sob. “Wasted stuff an’ coulda—” he clings tighter with a high, panicky little noise, and Bobby presses a kiss to his hair. “Coulda burned stuff an’ now you won’t want me anymore!”
“That’s not true,” Bobby says immediately. “There is nothing you could do that would make me stop wanting to be your daddy, Buck.”
“Bad,” Buck insists, still sniffling. Bobby shakes his head and pulls back just enough to look in Buck’s eyes.
“No, you weren't. You made a mistake; you weren't wasting food on purpose or breaking a rule. People mess up in the kitchen all the time, Bug. I still mess up in the kitchen sometimes,” he adds, and Buck shoots him a disbelieving little look. “It's true! Now, we might not be able to eat the eggs—” Buck whimpers at the reminder, and Bobby’s quick to pull him close and press another kiss to his temple “—it's alright, you're alright, Daddy's not mad. We might not be able to eat the eggs, but we can still eat the waffles you made, right? I think that sounds like a pretty good breakfast, don't you?”
“Got burned,” Buck whispers. “Won’ be good now.”
Bobby eyes the toaster. By some miracle, the waffles only seem to be partially burnt. “Oh, I think they came out perfect, kiddo…because now we have an excuse to use as much syrup and whipped cream as we want on them.” He grins, relieved as he sees Buck crack a hesitant little smile for the first time since all this started.
They’ll still need to talk about it after this, but for now they can focus on doctoring up their breakfast.
Ooh, you're throwing me a curveball! This'll be my first time writing for these two. 💙 This one is set in a Littles-Are-Known ‘verse and takes place a few weeks or so after Silver Lake, so warnings for: mentions of Ellie getting in trouble for taking food before (I didn’t pick a setting between the game or show, so it’s reader’s choice on backstory there); brief, non-graphic mentions of what happened in Silver Lake/mentions of Ellie having anxiety around new foods because of it—as well as Ellie getting sick. (I also took some liberties with the second part of the prompt, and I hope you don't mind. You’ll see what I mean.)
10—Character A eats too much candy and makes themself sick: in comes Character B to offer them care and a well earned lecture.
———
Joel can't place what he's hearing at first.
He sets the bundle of firewood he’s collected down in the corner as he steps inside and kicks some of the snow off of his boots, tilting his head as he listens for it again. It's faint, but it sounds absolutely miserable. Maybe something caught in one of the traps outside.
“How long has that been goin’ o—”
Joel’s words die in his throat. Ellie’s not where he left her.
It takes everything he's got not to assume the worst as he moves towards the back of the back of the little house they've holed up in. Ellie’s been glued to his hip these past few weeks as he tries to recover, and if he has to take care of anything outside, she's practically pressed up against the door when he comes back in. What if she's hurt? What if someone somehow got in without him knowing? What if—
He almost wants to breathe a sigh of relief when he opens the second door on the right and sees her. Almost.
Because she's not hurt. She is clearly dropped, sitting in the middle of a pile of wrappers, and looking like death warmed over though. Curled around the small trash can that used to be under the desk in here as she gets sick—with a half-full Ziploc bag of candy next to her.
“Hey,” Joel croons softly as he moves to sit beside her, shushing a little as she flinches on instinct. “Just me, baby girl. It's me, we're okay, we're safe. You're not feelin’ too good right now, huh?”
Ellie whines softly, leaning into his side after the heaving stops and looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “Wanted t’try it,” she whimpers as she reaches out to grab a handful of Joel’s flannel. “Thought it was safe ’cause s’not—”
Joel rubs her back as she leans forward and retches again. It's not hard to figure out where that train of thought had gone: She'd felt safe enough to take a chance on the candy because she'd been dropped and curious, and it'd been sealed and didn't look anything like meat…and now she's gotten sick from it.
Fuck, Joel hopes this won't be another setback. Ellie’s got enough anxiety around eating new foods right now as it is. “Is it 'cause—” she whimpers once the wave passes, and Joel feels his heart just about crack in half.
“No. No, darlin’,” he says quickly, rubbing her back in slow circles as she heaves again. “You just ate yourself sick. It's not because there was any bad stuff in there.” Not the kind of stuff Ellie’s thinking about, anyway—Joel’s privately worried she might be sick for days given how expired that candy is, but like hell is he gonna say that right now. “Kids have been doin’ this since before the outbreak—too much candy at once can make you sick, baby. That's all this is, I promise.”
“Was I bad?” Ellie asks quietly, shaking a little as she clutches his shirt even tighter. “Taking too much food used t’be bad, before.”
She looks so upset at the thought that Joel knows he won't be able to bring himself to scold her for this, his chest aching a little as he remembers Sarah doing the same thing at about nine years old. (She had gotten a lecture for that one because she'd known better, and Joel’s sure she's rolling her eyes at him right now—but he's also sure she wouldn't want him sending her little sister into a spiral. Not over this.)
“Nah, you weren't bad,” he soothes. Ellie untenses a little, and he ducks his head to press a kiss to her hair. “You tried somethin’ new; that's pretty brave in my book. You just…overdid it a bit.” She whines again and curls tighter around the trash can, and Joel makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. “I know, darlin’. I know. I gotcha.”
It's another few minutes before Ellie stops getting sick, leaning heavily on him as she gets slowly to her feet and yelping a little as he slowly scoops her into his arms. “It's alright,” he coos lowly. “We're gonna go slow so we don't upset your belly again, I just think you might be comfier propped up in bed instead of on the floor like this, yeah?”
Ellie nods, but her death grip on his shirt gets even tighter. “Big bed?” she whispers, like she's afraid saying it any louder will make him change his mind and decide she actually has done something bad after all. Like she hasn't spent every night for the past few weeks curled as close to him as she can get; hasn't woken from nightmares and immediately scrambled to check that he was still breathing.
Even if Joel was angry with her about this, he wouldn't have the heart to risk making those nightmares worse. If Ellie needs him nearby to feel safe right now, then nearby he'll be. Sarah had gone through a similar phase right after they'd lost her mother; this isn't the first time he's had to co-sleep with an anxious kid.
“Yeah, baby girl,” he confirms, “in the big bed. I'll have to get up and make sure the fire's goin’ in a little bit, but we can make sure you're nice and cozy and not feelin’ as awful first, alright?”
Ellie frowns a little at this, but she nods and lets him slowly carry her out of the bedroom she where she found the candy and into the one they've been sleeping in, pulling back the covers and making sure she's tucked in and propped up at an angle that won't set her stomach off again.
“Now, I’m not mad,” he reassures softly, “but I need to know you remember—what's the rule for things you find when we stop?”
If she had the energy for it, Joel’s sure she'd be rolling her eyes. “Nothing with the yucky face on it is food,” Ellie recites. “I’m not a baby,” she adds with such clear offense he has to force himself not to laugh. (Or cry, honestly. This is the most she's dared to sass him since Silver Lake, and he hopes it's a sign she might be coming back to herself a little.)
No, but you are six right now, so I figure it pays to remind you just to be safe.
“I’m sorry, that was silly of me,” he soothes as he pushes her hair back from her forehead. “It just helps me feel better sometimes, hearin’ that you remember things like that.”
Ellie’s scowl softens a bit. “I guess you can keep asking,” she says softly, tugging on his free hand. “If it helps you feel better.”
Joel chuckles as he follows her obvious demand for cuddles, pulling off his boots and settling onto the bed beside her. “Thank you, sweetheart. That's kind of you.”
"You're welcome,” she says tiredly, clearly exhausted from getting sick earlier. It takes another beat before she asks “You sure there was no bad stuff?” in a very small voice.
“I’m sure,” Joel tells her, because he figures the please don't eat massive amounts of expired food like that without me around ever again, it's a gamble and you about gave me a damn heart attack conversation can wait until his fourteen-year-old has aged up—and is back to herself a little more and not still half in Silver Lake. Ellie nods and curls a little tighter against his chest.
He’ll need to move her soon. Get up and get the fire going, get Ellie some water to rinse her mouth out; grab a cool washcloth for her forehead and maybe something to help settle her stomach, if he can find anything bland in their packs.
