Chapter Text
Neal turned on the shower, letting the bathroom fill with steam as he quickly undressed. He paused for a moment as he fought back a wave of nausea, bracing his hands against the counter and taking a deep breath.
He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. For years, he’d gotten a decent handle on things and he had been able to function without his headspace getting in the way. Even in prison, no one had discovered his secret. (Mozzie had, of course, but Mozzie was a special case, Neal had learned. There was virtually nothing anyone could hide from Mozzie.)
But as soon as he got out and began working as a CI, it had gotten inexplicably harder. There were days when Peter had reprimanded him and Neal had alarmingly felt tears attempt to spring to his eyes before he forced them back down and made a quip along the lines of ‘getting the job done with the help of some shortcuts’. It scared him to feel himself losing control — he’d thought he’d learned to suppress that part of himself, but there it was, coming back with a vengeance.
He’d felt his control slipping bit by bit for months, but the other day was the first time he’d actually lost control. Neal might have gotten it back if Peter hadn’t jumped into action with his gentle words and reassuring back rubs...
But it wasn’t Peter’s fault Neal was unstable. All he — and Elizabeth — had done was take care of Neal in his vulnerable, useless state. Neal didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve their kindness, but they’d given it freely nonetheless. All Peter had ever done for him was help him out, even though Neal had never deserved help.
The bathroom was now filled with steam such that the mirror was fogged up, which Neal was thankful for. He stepped into the shower and let the too-hot water wash over him, ignoring the slight sting of it on his back. He welcomed it, even. The feeling of the heat radiating off his back was somewhat of a distraction from his racing thoughts — but it would have needed to be boiling to fully pull Neal’s mind out of the dark hole it had sunken into.
For a few minutes, he simply stood under the water, trying his best to empty his mind, but it proved an impossible task.
What was wrong with him? He’d managed perfectly fine for years. However, the past couple of weeks, maybe even months, he’d felt as if the world was spinning faster than his body could keep up. That feeling had been bad enough, but right now, it felt like the world had finally come to a complete halt, but he kept going this time. His stomach churned constantly, just waiting for the crash landing. Even if it hurt, at least the feeling in his tummy — stomach — would go away.
What was most concerning was that Neal realized that he’d felt neither feeling when he’d actually been little with Peter (and Elizabeth) watching over him. It wasn’t until he’d aged up that the horrible feeling of dread settled in his stomach. Neal wasn’t an idiot; he could put two and two together. Clearly, his mind was protesting the suppression of his headspace. Why was he able to function without indulging his headspace for so long only to feel the effects now, right when he’d gotten his freedom?
It wasn’t fair.
Neal felt tears form in his eyes and shook his head frustratedly, swiping them away. No. No more crying — he’d done enough of that. Despite what Peter and the world thought, Neal wasn’t actually some stupid kid. He needed to show that to Peter so he didn’t start treating him like one, or God forbid, stop letting him work.
What would happen to Neal then? Would he go back to prison? Or… some rehabilitation program for Littles? Did those even exist? Surely Littles weren’t running rampant in the crime world. Neal didn’t know anyone else who was, but of course they could have been hiding it just like him.
Maybe… Maybe, as much as he hated it, his only chance at pushing all of this away would be to go along with Peter’s plan. He could at least indulge him by coming over, but just refuse to slip. Perhaps if Peter thought that he was trying but it just naturally wasn’t happening, he would relax and Neal could hold on to some semblance of freedom.
With thousands of what ifs rolling around in his head, Neal finished his shower and then moved to the guest room to get dressed, a towel wrapped around his waist. He did not think about Peter wrapping him up in a huge, fluffy towel and practically hugging him dry after letting him play with bubbles in the bath for over an hour.
Once he’d dressed and styled his hair, Neal came back downstairs in the clothes he’d worn to the museum the night prior — a pair of black slacks and a green sweater. Not one trace of his little self was left in his appearance. He once again looked every bit of a suave con man.
Peter did his best to keep his face neutral, not wanting to worry Neal but very worried himself. Not for the first time, he wondered if there were any files on his CI’s Classification out there that Mozzie hadn’t managed to destroy that would give him insight into what should be normal for Neal. Some Littles popped in and out of headspace, but it was very rare and mostly typical of older Littles when it did happen. Most Littles stayed that way for longer periods of time, especially if they lacked a schedule and dropped sporadically, or not at all in Neal's case. Unfortunately, Peter seriously doubted that Mozzie had missed anything that would be helpful if his goal was to erase any record of Neal being Little. Mozzie didn’t seem like the type to overlook things.
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Peter asked, “Ready to go?”
Neal nodded his assent and El clapped her hands together, a grin on her face. “Alright then, boys. Let’s go shopping!”
Neal’s eyes were glazed, as if he wasn’t entirely present. Peter put a hand on his shoulder as they walked out the door to both ground and comfort him, and tried not to let his feelings get hurt when Neal tensed further under his hand instead of relaxing. He had to remind himself that it was nothing personal — Neal couldn’t help it.
The ride to the store was relatively quiet, El trying to make conversation while Neal gave only short but polite responses. Peter could tell he was hardly listening, his mind somewhere else entirely. So focused on Neal, he was hardly any better at contributing to the conversation, and eventually El gave up, letting the car fall into silence until they arrived at their destination.
Twenty minutes later they arrived, and Peter and El got out of the car. Momentarily, Peter was distracted by his wife’s pure excitement, her smile so wide that her dimples were prominent on her cheeks. He didn’t immediately notice that Neal hadn’t moved. But when Peter turned around to search for him there he was, still sat in the car, eyes wide and back ramrod straight.
“Neal? Everything okay?” Peter asked after opening the door.
“You didn’t say we were going to a store for…” Neal began, trailing off.
Peter looked behind him at the store, the name Cecelia’s Corner hanging overhead in a curly cursive font, a teddy bear next to the words. Clearly, it was a store for Littles. His stomach sank.
“Oh, Neal, I’m so sorry. I guess I forgot to mention it. It really just slipped my mind,” Peter said, running a hand through his hair. “We can leave if you aren’t comfortable, no questions asked.”
El’s face fell in disappointment, but she quickly recovered, nodding her agreement. “It’s totally fine, Neal. We can go do something else if you’d like? Maybe see a movie and then grab lunch?”
Neal looked at both of their kind, nonjudgmental faces for a second before sighing. They really wanted to do this, and… well, he owed them much more than a shopping trip, but it was a start. “No, it’s okay. We can go in.”
“Are you sure?” El asked skeptically. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. Really, we can go do something else, even go to another store.”
“I’ll be fine,” Neal said in a mostly calm tone, but looking like he actually might puke all over his shoes. He swung one of said shoes out of the car before the other followed, closing the door behind him. “Let’s go before I change my mind, though.”
Peter and El exchanged worried looks before beginning the short walk to the store entrance with Neal following closely behind, his eyes locked on their moving feet. As soon as they stepped into the store, a sales associate approached them with a professional smile on her face. “Hello! Is there anything in particular that I can help you with today?”
Neal tensed behind Peter. Worried that he would bolt back out the door any second, Peter was quick to respond. “No, thanks. I think we’ve got it.”
“Well, if you have any questions or need any help, you can find an associate up front who’s more than willing to help,” the woman kindly replied before leaving them alone. Neal noticeably relaxed following her departure.
El grabbed a cart and began to push it towards the racks of clothing at the left of the store. Peter and Neal followed, Neal shuffling behind.
“Oh! Isn’t this adorable?” El cooed at a set of footie pajamas with a hood that was meant to look like a bear. Peter had to agree that it was adorable. However, he suspected that Neal in his current headspace was not much of a fan, and one look at his face confirmed the suspicion.
El checked for the correct size and tossed the pajamas into the cart before turning to Neal. “Do you want to pick some stuff out, Neal?”
“No thank you, Elizabeth,” Neal said politely, though he looked more like a caged animal than a well-mannered individual at present.
“That’s fine! Is it okay if Peter and I pick some things we think you’ll like?” El said, eyes shining with hope. Peter thought back on all the times they’d gone gift shopping for friends and family members with new Littles. It hurt him to go shopping for such things knowing that they had no Little of their own, but he knew that it hurt El ten times more. Now, Peter had never seen her look happier.
“That’s alright,” Neal replied. Peter could see the tension in the line of his shoulders, in the creases around his eyes. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, but Peter could tell from their outline that they were clenched into fists. If El was the happiest person on Earth, Neal was the most miserable.
Taking pity, he said, “If you promise not to bolt out of the store without telling me, you can go look around while we pick out some things. But remember, if you do bolt, I’ll know.”
Peter looked pointedly at Neal’s ankle. Neal didn’t seem to mind the reminder at all, sagging slightly with relief at the idea of getting to go anywhere but where he currently was. It worried Peter a bit to let Neal out of his sight even when he was feeling fully adult, but he had to trust that Neal would follow directions. After all, if he didn’t trust Neal, how could he ever expect Neal to trust him?
“Hey, Neal?” Peter said, stopping Neal from walking away after he’d turned to do so.
“Peter?” Neal returned, trying to add some cheekiness to his tone but missing the mark. Peter gave him a small smile anyways.
“If you really need to leave, just come get me, okay? You’re not trapped in here if you don’t want to be here anymore. I just need you to tell me instead of running off,” Peter said. “I’m trusting you to do that, alright?”
Neal nodded, biting his lip as he turned away once again. As Neal walked away, heading towards the back of the store, Peter turned to El. “Do you think we shouldn’t have taken him with us? He looks miserable.”
“I think he’s just a little overwhelmed, but this is good for him. Seeing a whole store full of things just for Littles might help him deal with some of the shame he feels,” El said.
Peter still didn’t feel convinced that they’d done the right thing, even if her words made sense. He hated to put Neal in a position that clearly made him uncomfortable, especially considering he hadn’t even known that they were going to this particular type of store in the first place. Even though Neal had said he was okay with it, he was obviously anything but.
El noticed Peter’s anxiety, putting a comforting hand on his arm. “But if it gets to be too much, we can always take him home the second he asks. He knows he’s not trapped here.”
Peter nodded, sighing. “How do you make this seem so easy? I feel like I’m in way over my head.”
“Aw, hon,” El hugged him with the arm not currently holding clothes. “You’re doing great. I know seeing him like this is scary, but you’ll get the hang of it.”
“I hope so,” Peter muttered.
“Though,” El said, lowering her voice to something only right above a whisper, “I think we should talk about looking into therapy with him, after things have calmed down a bit, don’t you think?”
Peter nodded. “I’ve been thinking that. I just don’t want to push him to do too many things out of his comfort zone at once.”
“That makes perfect sense,” El replied. “I just wanted to make sure that we added that conversation to the list.”
They picked out at least a dozen more outfits besides the bear pajamas, most of them El’s choice, but Peter spotted a few himself. His favorite, of course, were the cowboy pajamas he’d snatched up as soon as he’d laid eyes on them. He couldn’t wait to see Little Neal in them.
After they’d decided that they had enough clothes for the time being, they moved on and grabbed some more necessities. A few more pacifiers, sippy cups, plastic silverware with wide grips for clumsy hands, and a couple packs of pull-ups were all tossed into the cart.
“What next?” Peter asked.
“Probably bedding,” El said. “I doubt Little Neal will be a fan of our plain guest sheets once he gets settled.”
Peter nodded. He could easily envision Neal coming up with his own solution to boring sheets that would result in Peter scrubbing paint from the walls and buying a new mattress. Peter shuddered. It would be best to stop that disaster before it started.
“Lead the way.”
Neal made his way through the store looking up as little as possible with the goal of finding the least offensive place to linger while Peter and Elizabeth shopped. He’d only agreed to go in because of the crestfallen expressions on their faces — especially Elizabeth’s — when they’d brought up leaving. He felt like he owed them after what he’d put them through over the weekend. Currently, he was regretting his choice. His first thought was to run, but when he thought about what Peter had said, he knew that he couldn't do that. Nor could he muster the courage to ask if they could leave. He was stuck in limbo instead, a swarm of angry, buzzing bees filling his stomach.
He decided that the bedding section would be his safest bet at blocking everything out and the least likely place to dredge up any unwanted memories. Further, looking at bedding was hardly likely to bring back the telltale fuzzy feeling of a little headspace.
Or, that’s what Neal had thought.
As he walked through the aisles, faced with soft blankets and plush pillows and fluffy comforters with vibrant designs, Neal felt that feeling creeping up on him and he was struggling to fight it off. Every bright color and interesting texture called to him, and he couldn’t help reaching out to run his hands over some of the softer items, just to see if they really felt as soft as they looked. The worst part was how much Neal wanted to have these things. He didn’t want to want these things, but he couldn’t deny that he did — some part of him, at least.
Neal stopped in front of a navy blue baby blanket with a soft, light blue satin lining, reaching out to rub his hands over the textured fabric. He bit down hard on his lip — he shouldn’t, he told himself, pulling his hand back in hesitation. He was already having a hard time remaining big as it was, and if he kept indulging that part of himself, soon it would win the battle.
But it was already winning, Neal realized. He couldn’t fight the urge to touch that blanket any more than he could banish the horrible radio-static feeling trying to overtake his mind. He let his fingers sink into the plush minky texture before moving onto the satin lining, rubbing it between his thumb and finger. He imagined how it would feel to rub the soft fabric on his cheek —
“Put it in the cart, sweetie,” El said warmly, coming up behind him.
Neal jumped, pulling his hand away like he’d been burned. He hadn’t even heard anyone approach, he’d been so transfixed by the soft fabric. The icky-static feeling was much more prominent now than it had been a few moments ago and Neal did his best to shove it down. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I… I don’t want it,” he said, a blush rising to his cheeks as he tried to keep his voice normal.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him that he didn’t sound at all convincing. He expected Peter to scoff at the obvious lie, to poke fun at how uncharacteristic it was of him. Neal braced himself for it, worried that he might have an embarrassing reaction to Peter’s gentle barbs due to the state of his overwhelmed mind, but instead Peter wordlessly stepped forward and grabbed the blanket, setting it in the cart.
Neal couldn’t meet his eyes, shame burning a hole in his chest. He couldn’t decide if this was better or worse. Peter was likely aware of the exact state of Neal’s mind, and the realization made a lump rise to his throat anyways.
“‘S okay, Neal, you can have it. It’s only twenty bucks, it’s not a big deal,” Peter said, knowing very well that the price wasn’t the issue but letting Neal choose to make it about something else if he wanted.
Neal nodded silently, accepting the out Peter had given him. He wanted to insist on putting it back, but… they wanted to get it for him, and he wanted to have it so badly. He already couldn’t remember why, just a few moments ago, he’d felt so vehemently like fighting the subject. El gave Peter a proud look and pushed the cart down the aisle, moving on to the patterned bedding while Peter put a gentle hand on Neal’s back and led him to her.
“Do you want to pick out your bedding, Neal?” El asked.
“Whatever you pick's fine,” Neal said, his voice taking on that same practiced, distantly polite tone it had earlier at breakfast. He honestly didn’t know where he was mentally, and it scared him. It felt like he was hanging off the edge of a cliff by his fingertips, desperately grasping at Big while Little waited at the bottom to swallow him whole. Or, maybe it wasn't waiting at the bottom anymore. Maybe, it had gotten sick of waiting, and had reached up to grab Neal, forcibly pulling him away from Big.
“There’s a lot of options, it’s easy to get overwhelmed,” El said, nodding her understanding. “Peter and I would be happy to help you pick, honey.”
Peter and El perused the shelves, looking at all of the bedding options. Neal stood quietly, glancing at the shelves every couple of seconds before looking away again just as quickly. He wanted to pick out his sheets, but — but he didn’t need to pick out his sheets. Peter might be making him go along with this, but he didn’t need to be an active participant, despite the thoughts in his head urging him to look at the shelves of brightly patterned sheets. Would it really be so bad if he just looked?
“How about this one? It’ll match his blanket,” El said, holding up an ocean-themed sheet set. Neal looked at the sheets that El held and quickly looked away again, but he couldn’t help the excitement he felt for a second at the sight of the deep blue sheets adorned with various sea creatures. Elizabeth was right — they would match his blanket perfectly.
Peter spotted another set and laughed, grabbing it and holding it up in his hand. “Or this one? Cowboy sheets for the cowboy, eh?”
Neal once again couldn’t help but look at the bed set that Peter held in his hands. The picture on the package had cow print pillowcases and sheets adorned with cowboy boots, horses, and cowboys wearing big cowboy hats and swinging lassos above their heads. They reminded Neal of sheets that Andy from Toy Story would have.
Neal couldn’t fight it anymore — he looked at the shelves filled with different patterns of sheets, letting his eyes run over all of the interesting patterns until he stopped on one that he liked more than any of the others.
Meanwhile, El looked at the western-themed sheets as well as the ones she’d picked out and grinned. “Why not both?”
Peter shrugged, grinning back. “What do you think, Neal?”
Eyes fixed on the set he’d spotted, Neal began, “I like—”
But realizing his mistake, he cut himself off as pink colored his cheeks. He quickly corrected himself, “I — Those are okay.”
“What’s up? You don’t like ‘em? We don’t have to get these if you don’t want them,” Peter said, trying to encourage him to give his opinion.
“No, they’re okay, it’s just — I, um, saw these ones and I kind of like them. But those ones are okay, I like them just fine,” Neal said, nearly stumbling over his words. Peter brightened at the fact that he liked something for himself and was willing to actually tell them.
“Which ones, sweetie?” El coaxed.
Neal blushed and avoided their eyes as he pointed to a set of sheets adorned with white constellations on a navy blue background.
“Those are awesome, kid,” Peter comforted, hating to see him so ashamed of simply liking something. The sheets themselves weren’t even overtly childlike. As far as kids’ sheets went, they were downright tasteful. It was unsurprising that Neal would be drawn to them. Even feeling little, the kid had a taste for the finer things.
“Oh look, and they match your blanket too, just like the ocean ones,” El added in an awed tone, trying to encourage him to feel excitement rather than shame. “Those are really great, Neal.”
Peter grabbed them and put them in the cart, along with the other two sets that he and El had liked. It would never hurt to have extras.
“Well, that’s everything I had on my list for now,” El said. “Do you want to pick out any toys, Neal?”
Neal looked down at his feet and shook his head. “No, thank you, ‘Li—Elizabeth.”
“I think that means we can head for the checkout line, then,” Peter said, putting a hand on Neal’s back once again to lead him back to the front of the store. He wanted to encourage him to pick out a couple of toys, but he knew that was a sore spot for the boy. It would be best to tread lightly for a while on that particular topic. Maybe that would be something they held off on addressing until Neal felt fully comfortable with them.
Once up front, Neal stiffened as they approached the register. Peter felt his shoulder tense under his hand and looked up to catch the fearful look on his face before he schooled it into something that was not quite a neutral expression, but one that was only mildly disgruntled.
“I think I can handle this if you guys wanna go ahead and warm up the car,” Peter suggested. El, the wonder that she was, didn’t even miss a beat before agreeing, even though she had been ahead of them both and therefore hadn’t seen Neal’s distress herself.
“That would be great, hon,” she said, feigning a yawn. “I don’t know about you, Neal, but all of this walking has worn me out. Are you ready?”
Neal nodded, walking over to her side. Peter handed El the keys and took the cart from her, sending the two out the door before approaching the register by himself. He spotted some coloring books of various themes at the front and decided to add a couple of those to the mix along with a huge pack of crayons. Not toys, but something that would keep Neal entertained at least.
“Did you find everything okay, sir?” the woman at the cash register — the same one that had greeted them when they came in — asked, giving him a warm smile.
“We did, thank you,” Peter said, unloading things from the cart onto the counter.
“Oh, what a lucky little guy!” she exclaimed as she began to scan item after item and place them into bags. “He must have you wrapped around his little finger, huh?”
Peter huffed, nodding his agreement before he even noticed what he was doing. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he realized his automatic response was to wholeheartedly agree. But he couldn’t deny that it was the truth. Even before Peter had known Neal was a Little, he’d felt a soft spot for him. After all, there were very few people that Peter would risk his career for, but Neal was on that list. And now, knowing this other side of Neal? He’d only known Little Neal for a weekend, but he was already fully prepared to spoil him — and love him — to no end.
“Yeah, he sure does.”
“That’s not a bad thing, unless he learns how to take advantage of it like mine does,” the clerk smiled. “But a sweet, shy boy like that? I doubt he has a mischievous bone in his body.”
Peter laughed, a wry smile on his face. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
Once he’d finished paying, he grabbed the bags and made his way to the car, opening the trunk and setting their new purchases inside. He was just about to close it when he remembered the blanket. He pulled it out of one of the bags and removed the tags. He then closed the trunk and made his way around the car.
He leaned into the car, holding the blanket out to Neal. "We need to wash it when we get home, but do you want to hold onto this for now, buddy?"
Neal's eyes immediately brightened and he slowly grabbed the blanket, as if he were afraid Peter would change his mind and snatch it back. Peter smiled encouragingly at him and released, letting the rest of the navy fabric that Neal didn't have a hold on cascade smoothly into his lap.
He then climbed into the driver’s seat. “Alright. We headed home?”
“Neal and I decided while you were paying that we wanted ice cream. Isn’t that right, Neal?” El asked, turning around and sending Neal a wink.
“Uhhuh,” Neal said quietly, a small, shy smile on his face as he contentedly rubbed his blanket against his cheek. Peter caught sight of it in the rear view mirror and his heart clenched. He would buy the kid a thousand ice creams just to keep that look on his face. Wrapped around his little finger, indeed.
"Alright," Peter pretended to agree reluctantly. "On to ice cream."