Work Text:
If you’re looking for Victoria Chase, everyone knows the first place to check is Nathan Prescott’s room.
Aside from outside obligations, such as school or clubs or whatever, they’re almost always holed up in Nathan’s room.
And if not? Well, it’s probably just a matter of time. Victoria will drop anything to be with Nathan. That’s just fact.
All he has to do is text and she’s over in minutes.
She’s barely through the door when she realizes what a state he’s in.
The only items he has for when he’s feeling tiny are his blanket and Thing, both of which are out in the open for anyone to see.
Victoria scoops up both, tucking Thing under her arm while she heaves up his special blanket.
“They’ve got you on new meds, huh?” she asks as she throws the blanket over him. He only slightly stirs at her voice, shifting so she can tuck the blanket around his shoulders.
Nathan nods.
“When was the last time you ate?” The first thing that always goes with Nathan is his appetite.
In lieu of replying, he holds up a single finger.
Since it’s only four, Victoria will let it slide for now. But she will bring him food later. “Okay.” She hands him Thing, which he immediately tucks up against his neck.
Someone knocks on the door, four gentle bumps against the hard wood. Nathan immediately goes tense.
Victoria shushes him. “You don’t have to answer,” she reminds him, her voice barely a whisper.
Even if he wanted to answer the door, he’s in no state to. He’s in that unique state of smallness where his voice is softer and his eyes are permanently watery. Anyone that so much at glanced at him would know something was wrong, and Victoria will let the school explode before she lets anyone so much as have an excuse to be suspicious of Nathan.
She sits beside his pillow, absently running her fingers through his hair. He relaxes under the feeling of her nails scratching his scalp.
“It’s okay,” she reassures him. “I don’t want to see anyone.” Because no one ever stops by to see him. Just Victoria.
Nathan doesn’t answer. He often doesn’t when he’s in his headspace. At his absolute chattiest, the most she could get from him was the occasional sentence or two.
“Something else on your mind, bub?” “Bub” is her special nickname for him. For his pride’s sake, she told him it was short for “Beelzebub,” since he liked the idea of him being an absolute terror in headspace. She’d never understand his stubborn male pride. She’d also never tell him that was her dad’s old nickname for her when she was four.
“People stare,” he answers. It’s hard to get more than a few words at a time out of him.
“I know.” She rubs his back. Normally, she’d be asking for names, but that type of vindictiveness won’t do Nathan any type of good. The most she can do is comfort him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Nathan frowns but says nothing. He knows that. The entire school knows that. Hence why they like to stare.
Half the school thinks he’s gay. The other half thinks she’s gay. Yet most of them still are convinced she and Nathan are dating. Idiots.
“Here.” She scoots closer so his head can fit comfortably in her lap. “Any headaches?”
Nathan shakes his head, and thank God for that. While he’s at his quietest, calmest, and least confrontational in headspace, little Nathan with a headache is the closest to a terror he can get. Granted, the worst he’s ever done is swat at her arms once or twice.
“Any homework?”
Another head shake.
“Fucking awesome.” Her swearing brings a little smile to Nathan’s lips. “Sounds like we have a whole-ass evening to watch Survivor.”
As someone who’s never even considered age regression, Victoria won’t judge what does or doesn’t help Nathan regress. Trashy reality TV wouldn’t have been her first guess, but she doesn’t mind spending a couple lazy days with him getting caught up on the episodes.
She grabs the special pillow she bought for her back and props it up behind her. Nathan curls into her chest and happily turns on his plasma TV.