Chapter Text
Sometimes, Suitcase dreaded seeing Baseball. It almost hurt. Like some deep, dark pit in her stomach was pulling her down — dragging her to where no one would find her. It was horrifying, really.
They rarely talked after season two, both going their separate ways. Baseball getting closer with Pickle and Balloon, rather than Nickel, actually.
If Suitcase was feeling particularly vengeful that day, she would’ve smiled at the thought. But Suitcase knew she wasn’t being much better with her own friends, her Balloon don’t talk much, same with her and Knife.
And everyone else… was just everyone else to her.
She didn’t know why, really, it just felt better to isolate and lock herself away. Her room was safe, her room was home. A place where she wasn’t scared to move.
Suitcase knew she needed this, though, as she fought to get out of the sheets, inching her way out of the covers and walking to the door. She took her time opening the door, quietly of course, and finding her way to Baseball’s room.
His door was plain white, however, it was decorated with stickers and a couple photos from the recent season.
And there was no Nickel. Odd.
Suitcase gulped, knocking on the door, trying to fight the tiny voice in her head begging her to leave.
But Suitcase trusts her gut.
Baseball opens the door, yawning tiredly before looking down, stammering a bit before kneeling down.
“Hey, buddy,” He whispers, “I missed you.”
The way Baseball already knew made her brain tingle, sinking deeper into the fuzzy part of her head. Of course, she was a bit frustrated that Baseball already knew, but she figured that the yellow blanket gave it away. Baseball carefully took the blanket from her and guided her inside. Suitcase would’ve flinched if she didn’t trust him so much.
It was weird how much she trusted him while little.
“Oh, so little and tired that you can barely talk, hm?” Baseball said, chuckling. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Suitcase felt a flurry of emotions in her heart a small tickle in her chest as she smiled — allowing Baseball to pick her up and place her gently on his bed.
Suitcase squealed at this, giggling at the gesture.
“Shhh, honey, Lightbulb’s sleeping,” Baseball whispered, kissing her head, “let’s focus on getting you to bed.”
The regressor whined, squirming as Baseball shushed her. She watched as her caregiver climbed into bed and snuggled against her, but as she relaxed next to him — she began to want something else.
“Pa,” She babbled.
“Hm?”
“Hol’ me,” Suitcase mumbled, “p’ease?”
Baseball’s heart softened, nuzzling Suitcase gently, “Of course, precious, but,” Baseball squirmed, “I think I need to grab something from the kitchen first, you’ll like it, I promise.”
Suitcase nodded, Baseball leaving her with one of his stuffed animals to distract herself with before heading out.
Suitcase tried to think, though it was getting hard conduct herself through the fog. She tried to formulate a a word to describe her situation, some sort of feeling, a sensation she could associate with.
Safe. A small place she can go to where no one can find her. She didn’t feel that way with a lot of people, maybe with a few others here and there, though this feeling with Baseball was different.
She always thought of him as weak, and in a way, especially with everything that happened with Nickel.
But somehow, without her noticing, he changed. Maybe it was the way he reacted to her hallucinations, or the way he profusely apologized after the finale. Either way, she did appreciate his efforts — especially with her regression.
Suitcase is snapped out of her thoughts when her caregiver walks back in, humming and place a bottle at Suitcase’s side.
“Are you able to drink it all by yourself?” He asks, climbing into the bed.
Suitcase nods, patting Baseball’s leg. The caregiver stares at her before jumping a bit.
“Oh! Right! You wanted to sit in my lap, hm?”
Suitcase nodded
Baseball hummed, letting Suitcase climb into his lap, lying down with her blanket wrapped around her. The caregiver allows Suitcase to take the bottle, watching as she drank — the soft breathing and coos from Suitcase calming him.
Suitcase felt herself disconnecting from the world, the familiar fuzz taking over her brain and soothing her. Her Papa certainly helped as well, when Baseball picked her up, she felt like she was in a whole different world. One where she could curl up and hide away, where she didn’t have to be found.
It was nice to think about it.
“Good baby, sweetheart,” Baseball said, “I’m so proud of you, you’re doing so good.”
Suitcase wants to nod, giggle and squirm about in Baseball’s embrace… but she was too focused on drinking.
“‘M done,” Suitcase murmured. Baseball let out a gentle ‘Awww,’ in response, carefully wiping a bit of dribble from her chin. Suitcase handed the bottle to Baseball as he set it on his nightstand. Then, he scooped up Suitcase and patted her back a bit, firmly, but not harshly.
If Suitcase wasn’t so tired, she would’ve giggled at this.
“Let’s get some sleep, okay?”
Suitcase hummed as Baseball nudged a pacifier on her mouth. The regressor nuzzled him, closing her eyes.
Baseball kissed her head again, “Goodnight, Suits.”
…and if Suitcase was awake, she would’ve said Goodnight, too.