Chapter Text
Just as suddenly as things had changed, they had gone not quite normal again. Back to corona they went. Saporia was thwarted again, Rapunzel's parents were there, Eugene had a father? Varian and his dad were on speaking terms again, and Varian was good. They were friends again. Except for Cass…who was obviously a sore spot for Rapunzel. For one fleeting moment Eugene had hoped that things could be normal. He had walked past the nursery, given it a good look. But he knew that without their memories, things couldn't go back to normal with the king and queen. Instead he'd just stood there in the hallway chewing at his lip until he had forced himself to walk away. He'd just lay there in his bed at night and hug his pillow and swallow everything down. He didn't need to be little. They always seemed to have some sort of world ending event to deal with. He had to be able to help. But then his father showed up, and just had to go and bring a bag of his childhood memories with him.
His yoyo. His marked cards. His wind up raven. His Flynn Rider novel.
At least he had found something to bond with dear old dad over. But later that night, when he and Rapunzel were looking through the bag, he'd felt himself slipping. By the time his father had entered the room with his brand new sash, Eugene’s brain was a mushy slow mess. Everything was already muted and soft the way things were when he was sliding down, down, into that soft place where nothing mattered because he was far too small to care. He thanked his dad and gave him a hug, putting the sash away in his top drawer before catching Rapunzel’s eye. She looked a bit worried. He wasn’t sure whether anyone would be able to actually help him, what with the king and queen’s memories being so spotty at the moment, but he had to get away. Rapunzel expertly corralled his father down into the dining hall, and Eugene slipped down a secret side passage and around the corner. He slipped the key from the chain around his neck- it had somehow made it all the way to the dark kingdom, through the best part of an entire year hanging around his neck safely- and unlocked the door with shaking hands. Inside, everything was as it had been. Nothing had been touched, though clearly someone had been told to visit every so often and tidy things, stock firewood, dust things, clean the floor and shake out the rugs. Immediately he made a beeline for the fireplace and began to build it up against the outside chill. Best he do everything as fast as possible before he slipped too far to be able to. With clumsier than normal hands, Eugene built up the fire and changed out of his normal everyday clothing, haphazardly piling them in the empty basket by the fire. It felt foreign, going through the motions of selecting clothing for himself. This sanctuary, this safe space, was never one where he’d had to make a decision before other than to just get himself to the room. The bell cord in the side of the mantlepiece meant he could easily summon someone to help him at a moment’s notice. Usually, well-before, when things were normal and perfect, it meant that a servant would get the king or queen when it rang and in a matter of moments he would have someone to look after him. But this time he didn’t pull it. He couldn’t be sure they really knew who he was, let alone remembered their dynamic together. So he had to do things for himself. Maybe if he just curled up and slept for a few hours, the painful ache would dull around the edges enough for him to age back up and keep going. For now though he made do with one of the king’s stolen nightshirts, a thick pair of socks, and a very much clumsily done up diaper. He flung himself headlong into the bedding and burrowed deeply beneath the thick quilt. It still smelt of perfume and cologne and safety, wildflower infused soaps clinging to the sheets faintly. He pulled the blankets over his head and sighed quietly. It wasn’t the same. It might never be the same again. He drifted for a while, his imagination filling in the gaps. If he was really good at imagining, he could pretend that Mama was in the chair knitting by the fireplace, and he wasn’t really alone. When he came back to himself, his sheets were a little bit wet, and his mouth was dry. His stomach cramped from hunger and he stretched slowly. When he turned over onto his back to look forlornly up at the abnormally still mobile above him, someone was indeed sitting beside the fire. It just wasn’t who he expected.
Eugene let out a soft whine and sat up quickly, scrubbing at his face to get rid of the tears.
Attentive brown eyes that mirrored his own watched him studiously.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I’m here to help.” Edmund’s voice was rough but soft, and his mannerisms were kind, if unpolished.
“Y-you…” Eugene’s hands shook and he fisted them into the blankets nervously. He couldn’t talk very well, his big kid brain was swimming around in the foggy soup, his body uncoordinated. He wanted Mama and Papa so badly, or even Punz. “Rapunzel,” he mumbled plaintively.
“She’s….indisposed.” Edmund’s face took on an uncomfortable expression. “Erm, womanly pains and such.”
Eugene let out a huff and continued wringing the blankets in his sweaty hands. He didn’t know what to do now. “Lance?” he mumbled hopefully, after a few moments of hard thought.
“Overindulged at mealtime, as per usual. Rather painful indigestion.”
Shit. He was truly and well out of options then, if even Lance couldn’t help. It was bad enough that he’d had to adjust in such a short time to not being an orphan, but now his birth father was his only helper when he was too small to do anything for himself?
Eugene whimpered again, his shoulders shaking. “Shouldn’t have….to see me like this…” he defended, his hands fumbling for something else to anchor himself, landing on the patchwork teddy Rapunzel had made for him. He squeezed the soft toy to his chest tightly. “Not…not a grownup. Not…not princely or…or big…or…” he shrugged and hid his face against the soft flannel of the teddy with a sniffle.
There was a rustling of fabric, and then a warmth at his elbow. A tentative yet warm hand rubbed at his back. “I’ve seen more unusual methods of coping over the years. This is…a bit unorthodox perhaps, but nothing to be ashamed of. I can…I can understand why….” Edmund lapsed into silence. It felt sharp and painful with just the fire crackling. Eugene didn’t want to think about why it would make Edmund upset. They both knew. There was no sugarcoating why he needed something like this. Why he was…clinging to such infantile behaviours as a man in his late twenties. “I…can’t apologize for what happened. I made my choice then, and I didn’t regret it. It was painful for me too, but all I can do now is…try to make amends for it. To get to know you, all of you. And to try and do my best to be supportive and helpful to you, man that you are.”
Eugene shifted and looked up from under wet lashes, retreating finally and giving in to the soft urges in his mind, running away from the uncomfortable conversations, shrinking down down down…until he was oh so very tiny. Tears spilled uncontrollably down his cheeks and he felt his body going limp, leaning into those strong hands that were tentative at first but after a moment became oh so very capable. He was going to say he was wet, but after a moment he was being cradled in a pair of strong arms and moved easily over to his changing table. Eugene felt oh so tiny and overwhelmed, and he let his injustice be known by crying at the top of his lungs whilst he was being cleaned up. He was hungry and cold and tired and-
“It isn’t as bad as that, son,” Edmund’s voice was amused, and soon Eugene was being dressed in a proper onesie, so his feet weren’t cold anymore. He stopped crying, sticking his fingers in his mouth and sucking insistently, his face red and tear streaked. “You always were a colicky baby,” Edmund sounded a little sad and far away, but he wrapped Eugene in his quilt all snug and then Eugene couldn’t move his arms but it was comfy. He’d forgotten how much he was relaxed to be swaddled. He smacked his lips impatiently and whined, leaning away from the handkerchief that came out of nowhere to wipe the tears and snot from his face. “Must be hungry. You weren’t at dinner. It’s late, and the kitchen is closed, but I suppose we could find something for you.”
When the two finally made it to the kitchens, there were only a few candles burning low, and one lone occupant sitting at the table with a mug of something warm. Eugene was surprised at how easily they had made it to the kitchens, how very little he seemed to weigh on Edmund’s arms. It was like floating along on a cloud. But when they finally entered, he caught sight of the other occupant and his face lit up happily.
“Frederic,” Edmund greeted quietly.
“Edmund,” the king responded with a sigh. “Couldn’t sleep,” he gestured at the mug. “Thought some warm milk might help.”
Eugene watched Frederic carefully, a hopeful look in his eye.
“But I see you have someone with you that might need it more than I do.”
“I found him after dinner was over. He’d got to be hungry,” Edmund replied with a sigh. “I admit, I’m not sure what to do with him, really. But I couldn’t leave him alone like this.”
Frederic looked at Eugene with a far away glance, like something was just beyond his reach. “I…think…Arianna and I looked after him, before…this feels…familiar.” And then he turned and went right to the exact cupboard that had Eugene’s bottles in it, and took one down to fill with warm milk from the pan on the stove. “Yes….” He mused, tilting his head and watching as Eugene eagerly began to drink the warm liquid. “This…this feels right. I may not have all my memories, but I know that this feels familiar.”
Eugene ignored them thoroughly, only caring for the moment that someone was filling his tummy and making the ache go away. His eyelids got even more heavy by the minute as his stomach filled, all warm and cozy wrapped in his quilt.
“It does feel right,” Edmund answered with a far away and still somewhat wistful tinge to his voice. “I missed all this, the first time around. It could be nice to get a second chance at things like this.”
“I do think…that if he’s agreeable, you ought to be part of all this, if you’d like.” Frederic answered with a little smile. “I…remember…how much this helped Arianna and myself with Rapunzel.”
“Memories returning, that has to be good.” Edmund took the empty bottle and put it on the table, then used his sleeve to idly wipe at the milk on Eugene’s chin. “I won’t go anywhere. You just get some rest.” He murmured to Eugene, watching his eyelids flutter as if he were fighting sleep.
“We’ll get our second chance. Don’t you worry.”