Regression- a DCA!Serial Killer AU Drabble
just a slice of something. May or may not become canon.
context: Moon is out shopping to restock for babysitting, Detective is about to play a card game with Sun in his apartment. Secret is also out-
cw: panic attack, breakdown, age regression
Sun hurries over with a deck in his hands, rattling it in its box. The deck was, of course, themed around cats. After scooting the coffee table aside you both sit on the living room rug. You cross your legs while Sun sits on his knees.
"So! What game do you fancy?" Sun asks, tapping the deck in his hand. "Blackjack? Poker?"
You lean back on your hands. "Not much experience with those."
"No? You have an excellent poker face for it." Sun lightly teases as he starts to open the box. You laugh.
"Adult games are boring. Besides, I can play a mean game of Go Fish."
"Go Fish it is, then!"
Sun shakes the box and the deck lands in his hands. He shuffles it briefly in a fluid motion then begins to cut. First you, then himself. As he reaches to give you your fourth card, it slips from his fingers and lands on the floor, exposing the suit. His hand twitches.
"Ah..."
You look to the flipped card, then to Sun, who had gone still, his hand still stretched out. His eyes locked on the card. You knit a brow. "Sun? What's up?"
Your voice seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was in as he blinks and looks to you. He stretches a smile across his face plate. "Ah, it's nothing. Don't wor--"
The remaining deck in his hand suddenly folds and spills onto the floor, covering both his and your stack. Sun makes another noise, this time of what you hear as frustration. You think nothing of it.
"Hey it's okay," you say and straighten. You reach to the fallen cards. "Here, I can--"
"I can do it."
Before you can, Sun's hands cover the cards and he tries pulling them all back towards his spot. You pull your hand back and watch him almost scramble to collect the cards that keep slipping through his fingers. "I can do it, it's fine, I can do it..." he keeps muttering.
The cards now lay messily on the floor in front of him, some of them slightly crinkled and bent from his eagerness to collect them. You watch a hand pick up the first card that had initially fallen, and it trembles between his fingers.
Wait...no, his whole hand is shaking.
You look to him, about to ask if he was alright, when you notice his expression had changed, ready to crumple as he glared tearfully at the card like it was at fault. His shoulders quiver, too.
"Sun?" you ask, now concerned. "Sun, what's wrong?" He doesn't answer, the only reply given is a hiss of air meant to mimic a hitch of breath. You grow more and more worried. What could've set him off? "Maybe we shouldn't play right now--"
"No!"
You jump at the brief shout.
"I-I can play! I-I can..." The card falls to the floor again. He holds his hands out in front of him, shaking and tense. The oil tears fall one by one. "I can do it...! I know I can, I..." He tries scrubbing them away, not bothering if it stained the sleeves of his sweater, but more only appear. His rays rattle and jut in and out.
"I know how to run a stupid library...I-I know how to take care of children...I know how to kill people, so I know how to cut a stupid deck..."
You blink as your worry continues to rise. Where was this coming from? Did someone say something to him?
You inch towards him, slowly reaching a hand towards him. "H-Hey, it's okay, Sun. I know you do. What's wrong, bud? Talk to me, I'm worried."
"I-I'm fine! I'm fine...I-I...c-can..."
Sun's words falter, and he wails. Pitching his head back, his eyes screw shut, sending more oily tears running down his face plate. His rays retract completely, and for a moment with the loud cry his mouth fully opens. He then hunches forward, pressing his face into the floor, arms covering his head. You're bewildered by this, but are far more concerned for your friend.
"Sun!" You put a gentle hand on his shoulder and shake him. You raise your voice in hopes of speaking over his crying. "It's alright! Hey! What's going on? Did something happen at work today?"
You somehow manage to get him to sit up, though he still hunches forward. His face is a mess from the oil, streaming down his cheek and dripping off the tip of his nose. There is a stain on the rug, but that isn't your main focus. Though his mouth had closed again he continues crying. He scrubs at his face with the heels of his palm, and his entire body jolts each time he takes simulated hitch of breath. They sound remarkably like harsh hiccups. Any words he may have spoken come out completely incomprehensible.
Almost like babbling...
The door swings open and you jump, looking up. You're relieved to see Moon standing in the doorway, a spooked and concerned look on his face plate. He drops the shopping bags and makes a b-line for you both, holding onto Sun, who almost immediately latches onto him for dear life. You begin to explain what happened. Moon sighs with a nod, almost like he understood things clearer. He cradles his brother like a mother would a frightened child.
"Give us a moment, please," he requests. "Just in the next room."
You're confused, but you nod and stand up, walking into another room of the apartment to give them space. From a distance, you can hear Moon speak soothingly to Sun until his crying finally stops.
After a while, Moon's voice quietly calls for you, telling you it's alright to come back. You return to the living room and find Moon hunched over the oil stain on the rug, scrubbing it clean. The card deck has been put away and sits on the coffee table. Curled up on the couch you find Sun, a blanket dotted with circus elephants draped over him. A stuffed bear is tucked in his arms. His face is clean, and he appears to be sleeping. One hand presses against his mouth as if he's about to suck his thumb.
Before you can ask what happened, Moon rises to a stand. The stain is gone. He sighs softly, then looks to you. Then to the grocery bags behind you. You look, too. "Help with those," he says in a hushed voice, or more hushed than usual. "I'll explain then."
You nod and the two of you get to work. Carrying the bags to the kitchen, you pull the items out and follow Moon's instructions on where things go. He comments how Sun likes things organized a certain way, how "everything has its place". You find humor in it for a brief second.
"Is he okay?" you ask while putting away juice boxes.
"He's alright," Moon answers, closing a cabinet after stocking it with wipes. He holds onto the cabinet knobs for a moment before sighing and letting them go.
"You must be confused," he says.
"I'm more concerned than anything," you reply.
"Sunny didn't tell you about the day he had, did he?"
"Obviously not." You fold your arms loosely over your chest, glancing to the couch where Sun slept. "He told you, though?"
"He tells me everything," Moon states while digging through another bag. He pulls out a carton of almond milk and stows it into the fridge. He feels your eyes on him as you wait for an explanation. "Sunny had a run-in with a rather...rude visitor at the library today."
"A Karen?"
"Cranked up to 11." You exhale with a shake of your head and wait for him to continue. "Visitor in town, staying for a few weeks. She wanted a certain book, but it was already checked out by someone else. She was adamant there was another copy, said the library's site told her so. Sunny tried to de-escalate things, like he normally does, all while she tears into him. And in front of other children, too. Said how could a robot be terrible at this kind of job."
"She said that?"
Moon nods.
A heat swells in your chest as your eyes fall back on the couch. Thinking back, you recall the things Sun had said before his fit began. Things have been rocky for all three of you lately. This lady was a visitor. She doesn't know this town's secret...
"That explains things, then."
"That isn't all."
You look to Moon, brows knit. "There's more?"
"You saw how he is now, yes? Different compared to how he was before?"
"What are you saying?"
Moon sighs, tossing the empty bags into the recycling bin. "Sometimes," he begins, "when Sunny has a really bad day, it gets to him. The stress can be too much. So, to help with the stress, he..." he pauses, as if thinking of the proper word before finally finding it, "regresses."
"...Regresses?" you parrot back.
Moon nods. He sees your confusion and sighs again, arms folded over his chest, though not in aggravation. "His mind reverts to that of a child. Not like that of a Little from someone with dissociative identity disorder. He is still Sunny. Just...smaller, mentally."
Your brows knit further as you try to follow along with his explanation. You're not sure if this is something you have ever experienced, either personally or from another person, but to see something like this in an animatronic...
"So...to deal with stress..." you slowly explain, going at the pace of your thought process, "he mentally reverts to a child-like state."
"Bingo was his name-o."
You nod, relieved to have that confirmed. You feel a pang in your heart. Sun had tried to hold out, not wanting what happened to ruin your game or for you to worry, right until that fumble with the card became the straw to break the camel's back. Even as he fell apart, he still put you first.
"How long does it last?"
"Varies," Moon says. "Usually, it passes once he's had a nap. Usually." By the brief change in tone, you guess that anything further was worth another separate discussion. "You don't need to worry. He will be fine."
You nod again, then lower your head as you think further on the subject. After a moment, you look back up at Moon.
"Do you...regress, too?" you ask.
Moon doesn't reply, but the expression on his face gives you the answer you seek. Air hisses as he sighs and walks back over to the couch. He kneels in front of Sun's head. You can't see it, but he reaches and pets his brother's head. "You are welcome to stay," he tells you, "or you can go. I understand if this frightens you."
You think for a moment, then approach the couch as well. You peer over the back and down at Sun's sleeping form. He looks so small, curled up. You hesitate to call it cute, giving what drove him to this state in the first place. Carefully, you reach down and touch his cheek. It twitches, but he doesn't stir.
"I'll...hang around a bit," you finally answer. You walk around the couch and crouch next to Moon. "He'll probably ask for me when he wakes up. May as well be here for it. And you can explain to me more about the whole...regression thing."
Moon glances your way and smiles warmly, almost in wordless thanks.
