Chapter Text
Awsten was having an okay day. Geoff was at work, Otto was visiting family for the week, and Hot Topic was having an employee training week, so he didn’t have to go into work today. Which meant that he got to be home alone for a few hours.
Now, Awsten would be the first to admit that he was one of the clingiest people in the universe. But, even so, it was nice to just be by himself for a while. The feeling that empty houses have only gets lonely after you’ve been stewing in it for a while, and before then, he just got to take up as much space and make as much noise as he wanted. So, logically, being alone in the house for limited periods of time should be the funnest thing in the world.
Except, it wasn’t. Because he had to stay big. Or, at least kind of big. Geoff had been VERY CLEAR that he wasn’t supposed to let himself go into headspace while there was no one to look after him and make sure that he didn’t get himself into trouble. He could still have fun and be childish, but he needed to stop before he stopped being able to take care of himself.
So, it was just an okay day. Not an extraordinarily fun one, but not a bad one, either. He was laying on his stomach next to the refrigerator, his feet kicked up languidly in the air. He could feel the crinkle in his brow and his tongue between his lips as he focused on his task, resting his chin on his left palm. The scritch-scratch of the colored pencil against the coarse, light grey paper was the only sound in the room, save the gentle hum of the dishwasher nearing the end of it’s cycle. The serenity was broken after some time with a triumphant ‘hmm!’ as he pushed himself up to his knees, tearing the page from the coloring book and clumsily throwing it onto the counter with the rest of his handiwork, ready to present to Geoff when he finally returned.
Awsten knelt there for a moment, grinning and thinking about how his daddy would admire each individual sheet, commenting on Awsten’s choice of hue or how well he stayed inside the lines (or creatively went outside of them). Then, he’d stick them to the fridge and the front of the dishwasher as Awsten watched proudly.
It wasn’t until he sat back down to continue coloring, that he encountered his problem. His coloring book was empty. Or, at least, there were no more untouched pages. There were a few half-colored sheets toward the front of the pad that he’d decided that he didn’t like before he could finish them, but Awsten would rather die than return to what he’d deemed to be the screw-ups.
He could feel the pout start to build on his face as his eyes welled suddenly, thrown off by the unexpected obstacle. He could feel the lump starting to build in his throat and the flush of frustration start to creep up his cheeks. He didn’t feel the fuzzy blue clouds starting to gather in his mind, though, until he was too far gone to care.
By the time he had stood back up, regression had tucked away nuance, self-regulation, and anything but one-track thinking, and he was ANGRY. He just wanted to color, but his book was empty, and he’d been so busy with his task that he’d forgotten to eat breakfast and lunch so he was really hungry, and neither of his daddies were here to fix it. He stomped his foot at the empty apartment in frustration, the building tears finally starting to roll down his face.
He knew that there was a protocol for this, slipping into littlespace when he was alone. They’d gone over it together countless times, and there was a step-by-step list of what to do, written in Otto’s neat script, stuck to the fridge. But he was angry and bratty and would rather just start pushing things off of the table. So that’s what he did.
It was satisfying seeing the unopened mail fluttering to the floor as he swept his arm across the wood, and a smug smile tugged at the corners of Awsten’s mouth. And then, his hand caught on a half-empty glass of water. The moment it hit the ground, it was game over. The loud shattering of the glass and the sight of the dripping shards skittering across the hardwood in a razor-sharp sunburst was enough to freeze him where he stood. The fiery rage drained rapidly out of him, leaving nothing but ice-cold fear and emotional devastation in its wake. The nature of his tears shifted along with the stage of his meltdown, picking up speed as the first sobs ripped through him. He wanted his daddies to come back and make everything better.
Geoff said to call him if there was an emergency. And maybe this couldn’t be classified as an emergency in most people’s books, but it felt like the end of the world to Awsten. Everything was wrong and he was too little to fix any of it himself. He needed to get to his phone, but he was in the middle of a literal maze of broken glass. His movements were fuzzy and childish and uncoordinated, and he was only wearing socks. His brain was arguing with itself so loudly that he wouldn’t be all that surprised if the sound was leaking out of his ears. He needed daddy, but he didn’t want to get hurt. He needed daddy, but he didn’t want to get hurt. He needed daddy, but he needed daddy he needed daddy daddy would make it all better.
He winced sharply as he lurched towards the counter, feeling the sharp corners cutting through the soles of his feet. Everything hurt, everything felt so bad in every way, but he kept walking. His hands were shaking so hard by the time he reached his destination that he was surprised that he didn’t drop the phone. His fingernail chittered against the screen as he clumsily pressed Geoff’s speed-dial icon and put it on speaker as soon as it started ringing. And ringing. And ringing.
Awsten nearly screamed in frustration when Geoff’s voicemail started playing. He hung up quickly and repeated the process three times, a sobbing mess by the time he just gave in and let the message finish itself. The ‘beep’ hadn’t even fully ended before the words were tripping over each other on their way off his tongue.
“Daddy, I'm out of coloring pages and i got mad and I didn't mean to but i got little and I knocked a cup off the table and there’s glass in my feet and my socks are wet and my head hurts and you need to come home NOW daddy, it’s an emergency,” Awsten hiccuped. “I feel yucky and i need help.” He didn’t hang up, even after he was done talking, just continued to cry into the receiver until the size limit was reached and the message ended itself with another tone. He felt so, so alone as he stood there. The silence was visceral in the empty home, and he could feel it pressing into his skull, seeping into his lungs, suffocating him to death.
Otto. He could try calling Otto. Otto would know what to do. He relaxed a tiny bit, now that he had a plan again, as he shakily navigated to Otto’s contact and lifted the device to his ear. His crying redoubled in relief as Otto picked up after the second ring.
“Hey Aws, what’s up?” his voice cracked through the speaker, audio quality torn to shreds by the rural cell reception. His tone was passive, but slightly frazzled and out of breath.
“D-Dada i dropped a glass on the floor and I need help,” Awsten whimpered, “Daddy is busy and I don’t know what to d-” Otto cut him off sharply.
“Awsten, I love you, but I don’t have time for this right now. Either get Geoff to help or figure it out yourself. It wouldn’t kill you to try being self-sufficient once in a while.” Awsten’s chin quivered at Otto’s words, harsh and unexpected.
“B-but he’s at work an-”
“Awsten, I’m really busy right now! Deal with it yourself! I’ll call you later.” Otto hung up, leaving the line dead.
Awsten could feel his brain going numb as he let the phone fall from his hands. He’d only ever gone into drop once, a year or two ago. It had been different that time, though, because Geoff and Otto had both been there to realize what was happening and to leap into action and guide him gently back into reality. This time, he was alone. He was alone, and was just now realizing what an awful, selfish, obnoxious, toxic person he was. He’d always thought of himself as at least a reasonably good boyfriend. He told Geoff and Otto that he loved them all the time, sometimes he would buy them little snacks or trinkets when he was out, and was always as there for them as he was physically capable of being. But apparently he was just fucking blind, because all of that didn’t matter if he was being a burden.
He turned and slowly made his way to the bathroom, not caring about the shards of glass being pressed deeper into his feet. Blood was soaking through his socks, and he didn’t want to get the kitchen floor dirty. He’d already made enough of a mess for his boyfriends as it was. He resolutely avoided the mirror as he climbed sluggishly into the empty bathtub, pulling his knees up to his chest. He felt so much all at once, and his brain was still acting like a fucking little kid, and why couldn’t he just be NORMAL. He wrenched the tap all the way to the left, plugging the drain as soon as the water ran hot.
The hiss that escaped through his teeth was involuntary as the steaming water reached the soles of his feet, stinging at the gashes, some of them still holding splinters of glass. The water boiler in their building was one thing that was always kept well maintained, and they never had to space out their showers or anything. Tears started to prickle at the backs of his eyes again as his clothes became saturated with the burning liquid. His nerve endings were screaming at him to get out and away from what was hurting him, but he was starting to feel the effects in his brain. The pain was grounding and was beginning to slowly chase away the blue clouds from his mind. It didn’t feel good to be forcibly yanked out of littlespace, even intentionally, but Awsten needed to do this. He needed to grow up and to stop being a burden on his partners. They’d be happy when they found out that he wasn’t going to regress anymore, and that they wouldn’t have to deal with a grown-ass man acting like a child ever again. He was starting to age up again, but it wasn’t. Happening. Fast. Enough. Awsten pulled a trembling arm away from where it was wrapped around his knees, holding it in front of him for a moment before bringing it down into his collarbone, hard.
It took a second for the punch to sink in, but once it did, the ache that bloomed out from his sternum was immaculate. It beat the regression back a little further, and it made the loud, unpleasant thoughts in his head just a little bit quieter. So, he did it again. In the same place, over and over, until all that he could really feel was a dull ache and heat fingering out from the point of impact. He wasn’t little anymore, but he wasn’t exactly big, either. He felt empty. Like his thoughts were just drifting along on their own, not really attached to a cohesive consciousness. The only constant variable in his brain at that particular moment was a loop of ‘I’m a bad person. I’m toxic. I can’t regress anymore. I’m a burden. Otto doesn’t love me, and Geoff probably doesn’t either. I’m a bad person.’ The tears on his cheeks had dried into uncomfortable, sticky lines down his face, and his breathing had evened out. His fist was still slamming into his chest, again and again, almost on autopilot at this point. His entire being was disassembled and hazy, and it didn’t feel GOOD, but it didn’t feel terrible, either, which was a step in the right direction.
He was too dissociated to register the sound of the front door opening and closing, and Geoff tossing his keys down onto the small table to the right of the entryway. If he’d been processing sensory input at that particular moment, he would have been able to hear the familiar sound of his boyfriend walking down the short hall and into the kitchen, and the not-so-familiar sound of him stopping dead in his tracks. He would have been able to infer that Geoff was startled and thrown off by the shards of glass and the smeared blood drying to the floor.
He would have been able to hear him call out “Aws?” in a voice that was trying to stay calm but was laced with panic. But he didn’t. He didn’t hear anything until the sharp knock on the bathroom door, punctuated by the voice of his partner. “Aws, are you okay? What happened, baby?” The knocking had stopped, but Awsten was almost positive that his hand was poised on the doorknob. After a few seconds of no response, Geoff spoke again. “Awsten please open the door, I’m worried.” He knew that his boyfriend was just trying to be respectful and that he could open the door himself if he wanted to, and that he should just respond, tell him that everything was fine.
Because everything was fine. In fact, everything was ESPECIALLY fine now that Awsten had figured his shit out and decided to stop being a toxic shithead. It was all super fine. So why couldn’t he bring himself to just open up his mouth and say as much? Why did it feel like his lips were stuck together with hardening tar? And Geoff was saying something else and oh no he was opening the door and Awsten was still sitting there in the now-lukewarm bathwater, tinted the tiniest bit sickly-orange by the blood still oozing lazily from his feet. His boyfriend’s words were swallowed up by the dissociation again, sounding like they were miles away, or maybe underwater. He was drifting again for what could have been half a second or half an hour, but then, suddenly, Geoff’s hands were wrapped around either side of his ribs, half-lifting and half-dragging him out of the water.
He only realized that he was still hitting himself when it all suddenly came crashing back to him, and the first thing he noticed was a hand desperately grasping at his wrist, trying its best to halt it in it’s seemingly hardwired trajectory. The next thing he registered was the uncomfortable feeling of soaking wet jeans and a sweater clinging to his skin, getting colder by the second. The third thing was Geoff’s voice.
“-op! Awsten, stop it! Stop it, you’re hurting yourself! Stop it!” Geoff was nearly yelling at that point, voice higher than usual, hysteria starting to creep in around the edges of his words. The movement of his arm stuttered as Awsten looked up at his boyfriend for the first time since he got home.
Geoff let out a dry sob of relief as he saw recognition flood back suddenly into Awsten’s eyes as he finally looked up, no longer unconsciously struggling to escape Geoff’s vice grip on his arm. He still looked devastatingly despondent and exhausted, and there was an ugly bruise the size of his hand darkening across his collarbone, but at least that awful, hollow look was gone. Awsten opened his mouth before closing it again, apparently looking for something to say and failing to find it.
“Baby boy, what happened?” Geoff said softly, bringing his voice down from the loud, distressed tone it had taken on when he was trying to drag Awsten out of the trance he’d been in. Awsten opened his mouth again, seeming to struggle with the words for a second before finally speaking.
“I’m sorry I made a mess in the kitchen,” Awsten whispered, voice horse from the violent sobbing just a little while ago. Geoff just blinked for a second, thrown off by his response. Did Awsten really think that he’d be worried at all about some broken glass or papers on the floor right now? He’d literally just walked in on him, fully clothed in a bathtub full of bloody water, punching himself so hard that the hollow thuds that it produced echoed through the bathroom. For a few unbearable moments, Geoff had found himself raking his eyes over Awsten’s wrists in wild panic, unable to help assuming the worst as he searched wildly for any evidence that he’d tried to do something… worse to himself. It didn’t seem like he had, thank god, and Geoff still didn’t know where the blood was coming from, but that wasn’t his highest priority at the moment.
“Awsten,” he managed to choke out. “I’m not mad about the fucking kitchen. I couldn’t care less about the kitchen. I just want to know why you’re in here h-hurting yourself like that.” Awsten averted his eyes halfway through Geoff’s sentence, flushing bright red and staring down at the floor.
“It stopped hurting after a while,” he said, voice just as quiet as before. “Then it was just kind of warm.” Geoff inhaled sharply and squinched his eyes up for a second, trying to stay calm while also not thinking about his adorable, sweet, beautiful, wonderful boyfriend hitting himself so many times that his body refused to register the pain anymore.
“Awsten, that’s still hurting yourself,” he managed to say. “Just because your brain doesn’t want to feel it anymore, doesn’t mean that you aren’t still damaging your body. You’re going to have a nasty bruise there when you wake up tomorrow.” Awsten’s hand, still wrapped protectively around his torso, subconsciously twitched up a little as if to resume its path of destruction. Geoff arm instinctively shot forward to grab his wrist again, stopping it from moving more than a couple inches. “PLEASE tell me what’s wrong. Let me take care of you, baby boy,” Geoff added. Awsten’s expression darkened in a cocktail of frustration and sadness.
“That’s exactly it,” he said, voice louder this time. “I make you and Otto take care of me so. Much. And I know that there are things that you’d rather be doing with your time, and that I’ve been being so fucking selfish by forcing you two to focus on me instead of your own lives. I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize what a shitty boyfriend I am, but I promise that I’m going to be better for you guys. I’m going to-” Awsten paused and swallowed thickly. “I-I’m going to stop regressing. I’m going to grow up and be a normal adult, and you and Otto won’t have to take care of me like a little kid anymore. I’m going to be a better boyfriend, I swear, and I’m so fucking sorry that it took me so long to realize what a shitty, ugly, toxic freak I am.” Geoff had just been listening in shock, jaw slack a little bit, up until Awsten got to the last sentence of his rant. Each self-deprecation felt like a blow to the stomach, but Geoff literally gagged when he heard so many of them strung together, all of them painfully, blatantly false. With his system now empty of all of the ugly thoughts that it had been holding it, Awsten sagged heavily into himself, arms falling to the floor with a thud and his chin coming to rest on his chest in exhaustion.
Geoff didn’t even leave himself time to think before he lunged forward to gather Awsten into his arms, rocking him back and forth and whispering nonsense reassurances in his ear. His shirt and hair were getting soaked by Awsten’s wet clothes, but he didn’t care.
“Awsten, you.. that’s such bullshit, how could you even think that?” he managed to get out, voice mangled with emotion. Awsten tensed again in his arms.
“No! Stop lying, I know that you’re sick of taking care of me, both of you. I need to stop acting so helpless all of the time, it’s okay, I can do it,” he babbled.
“Why do you think that we don’t want to take care of you??” Geoff asked, desperate to just figure out what was going on with his boyfriend and do whatever he could to fix it.
“I- I accidentally regressed today, even though I wasn’t supposed to, and I’m really sorry. But I got mad and I dropped a glass and I didn’t know what to do and I called you but you didn’t pick up so I called Otto and he said that he was busy I needed to figure it out for myself for once, and then I realized what a huge inconvenience to you two I am and how I just get in the way all of the time so I made myself be big, and I feel really weird right now but I promise that I’ll get better at not being little, please don’t get mad at me,” Awsten whimpered, tears slowly beginning to trickle down his face again. Geoff’s body had coiled tighter and tighter as Awsten spoke, each word feeling like a stab in the chest. He physically flinched when Awsten had mentioned him not picking up the phone, suddenly feeling guilt welling up in the back of his throat. He could have prevented all of this if he’d just excused himself from the damn meeting to pick up Awsten’s call.
“Awsten, I’m so sorry that I didn’t answer the phone, I’ve been in meetings all day,” he apologized. “If I’d known that you were little or that you needed help, I would have picked up right away. It had nothing to do with me being sick of you or not wanting to talk to you, I swear.” He paused for a moment. “Can you tell me exactly how your conversation with Otto went?” Awsten shook his head.
“I don’t remember. I just know that he said that he was busy and that I needed to handle my issues myself.” he mumbled into Geoff’s shoulder. He made a mental note to call their other partner as soon as he could, because he was positive that there was some sort of miscommunication or cognitive distortion that would explain everything. Geoff nodded in understanding.
“That’s okay. We’ll figure it out later,” he reassured. “Did you cut your foot on the glass?” Awsten mumbled an incoherent affirmation into his shirt. “Can I see?” Awsten paused for a moment before slowly disentangling himself from his partner and shifting where he sat so that he could angle his feet where he could see them.
Geoff inhaled sharply as Awsten sluggishly tilted his feet back to show him. He’d put together that he probably had a cut or two, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting the sheer magnitude of the damage. The skin was ripped to absolute shreds, bloody gashes seeming to cover almost the entire surface. He could feel bile in the back of his throat as he took in the torn flesh and the shards of glass still embedded in the wounds, sparkling coldly.
“Awsten, no..,” Geoff gasped, blinking rapidly against the tears pressing into the backs of his eyes. “You should have kept calling me if you were this hurt! I would have come home right away.”
“I’m sorry!” Awsten keened, starting to curl back in on himself. Geoff internally cursed himself.
“No, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize!” he comforted. “I’m not mad, I just don’t like seeing you hurt. Awsten, we need to clean up your feet, you’re really hurt and we don’t want you to get an infection.” Awsten hesitated a little before nodding, seemingly reluctant to move from his spot on the tile. Geoff felt a flush of relief that his boyfriend wasn’t going to be difficult about this, but it was quickly overshadowed by anxious puzzlement over how they were physically going to do this. They were at a difficult angle to do any sort of damage control from, and he could see Awsten getting colder by the moment, starting to shiver as goosebumps crept up his forearms and the back of his neck. It would be ideal to somehow get Awsten out of the bathroom and into warm clothes, but Geoff would rather die than ask him to walk anywhere with the physical and mental state that he was in. He sat back on his haunches, pondering how best to go about this.
“Okay, I want you to take off your wet sweater and jeans so I can carry you to the bedroom and get you warm and cleaned up, okay?” he suggested calmly, phrasing it as a question but his voice leaving little room for argument. He didn’t want Awsten to feel like he was being pushed around, but he also knew that he wasn’t all there at that particular moment, and probably wasn’t in the best headspace for making his own decisions. Awsten didn’t respond to his words, just started peeling the wet layers off of himself. It wasn’t until Awsten’s slightly-too-long jeans were off that Geoff realized with a pang that he was wearing socks, they were just so shredded that they were hardly visible from the bottoms of his feet. He stood to grab a towel from the linen closet as Awsten sat shaking on the floor, returning to wrap it around him before gingerly picking him up. Awsten’s skin was painfully cold against Geoff’s large hands, and he hugged him tightly to his chest in an attempt to transfer some warmth.
Awsten started listing to the side almost as soon as he was placed on the bed, his eyelids fluttering slightly. Geoff’s chest ached with the desire to just let him sleep, but they still had to fix him up. Also, he’d rather not let Awsten fall asleep while in drop. He didn’t really know what it would do to him, if it did anything at all, but he wasn’t really in the mood to find out.
“I’m so sorry but you have to stay awake for just a bit longer, baby,” he murmured apologetically. “You can go to sleep soon, I promise, we just have to do a couple more things.” Awsten whined a little bit in frustration, but forced himself into an upright position anyway. “Thank you so much baby boy,” Geoff said, searching through his dresser for the biggest, softest, warmest sweater he could find. He eventually settled on a light yellow microfleece scoopneck that he’d gotten specifically so that Awsten could steal it from him. “Arms up,” he commanded gently.
Geoff didn’t see a way that he could get the sweatpants that he’d also snagged from the drawer onto Awsten’s body without fucking even more with his injuries, so he settled for draping a throw blanket over his legs. Now confident that Awsten would warm up at least a little bit, Geoff knelt on the floor next to the bed, carefully taking his heel in his hand. He still felt a little ill at the sight of the ruined skin, but he swallowed the feeling back, pulling the first aid kit closer to him.
“Okay, I’m going to take the glass out of your feet now.” Awsten didn’t protest, so Geoff began carefully extracting the shards, pressing gauze into the places they had been for a few seconds to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t a bit disconcerting that Awsten wasn’t even flinching as the sharp edges were dragged from his flesh. He hated seeing him in drop, he HATED it, it hurt so much. He was just so dissociated and confused and sad and all of the things that Geoff never wanted him to be. He was still lost in distressed thought when he finally got the last of the glass out of his boyfriend’s feet. The cellophane wrapper crinkled noisily as he removed it from the fresh roll of bandages in his hand.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he crooned, rubbing his bare calf comfortingly. Awsten stayed silent as Geoff finished wrapping his injuries, doing the best he could given his limited experience in the field of healthcare. “There, you’re all done.” Geoff stood up, cracking his neck a little bit. “You can lay down, now, if you want.”
“Okay.” It was a relief to hear Awsten speak again after half an hour of nonverbal distress, no matter how muted and scratchy his voice was. “Thank you,” he added after a pause. He hadn’t made any movement to lay down, despite clearly wanting to. Geoff could feel his brain beginning the subtle transition between ‘protective boyfriend mode’ and ‘caregiver mode,’ the shift triggered by how helpless and small Awsten seemed right then. He sighed softly, stepping back towards the dresser to find a dry set of clothes for himself.
“Aws, you really don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I’m here to take care of you. I LIKE taking care of you, no matter what you think.”
“But.. Why?” he asked. Even with the clear unease in his voice, Geoff was happy to hear the slight whiny, childish tone creeping into his words. He just wanted Awsten to come out of drop as soon as possible.
“I think that Otto and I should have explained this to you sooner, and I’m so sorry that it never came up,” he said carefully, tying the drawstring on his loose sweatpants as he perched on the edge of the bed next to Awsten. “Regressing and being little helps you feel better and less stressed out, right?” Awsten nodded hesitantly. “From what you’ve told me, it’s because it feels good to just let your brain stop thinking about the complicated things for a while, and not have to make big decisions for yourself, yeah?” Another nod. “Well. For me and Otto, it’s also like taking a break from the real world. It’s a bit different, but being caregivers allows us to let go of any stressors, and just focus on keeping you safe and happy for a while. It lets us stop thinking about how complicated and messy everything is, and give all of our attention to something that we love. You, and each other, too. I always feel better and refreshed and ready to keep going after you’re regressed for a while. It’s symbiotic.” Geoff ran out of words for what he was trying to communicate, and floundered for a moment before just settling on “Does that make sense?” Geoff had been staring down at his hands for the entire time that he was speaking, and only now looked up at Awsten, startled by the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh my god, baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you ups-” Geoff was cut off by Awsten crashing into him, wrapping his arms around his ribs and squeezing so hard that the air was momentarily knocked out of his lungs.
“I love you, daddy,” the smaller boy sobbed. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry that I hurt myself and made you sad.” Geoff recovered quickly from his shock and hugged his boyfriend back, running his fingers gently through his hair.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” Geoff allowed himself to relax fully then, unspeakably thankful that Awsten seemed to be all the way back in headspace.
“Dada’s mad at me,” Awsten whispered into his daddy’s shirt.
“No he’s not,” Geoff said immediately, keeping his voice soothing but leaving no room for debate. “If dada snapped at you, I promise you that it was just because you happened to catch him while he was busy or extra stressed. He probably didn’t even realize that you were little.” he reassured. “Dada’s not mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Awsten just whimpered.
Geoff could feel tears and snot slowly soaking into his thin t shirt, but he honestly couldn’t care less. He was just glad that Awsten was safe. The younger man refused to relinquish his hold on Geoff as he maneuvered them into a laying down position and pulled the blankets up over them, making the task difficult, but not impossible. Awsten’s body still shuddered and his breath was still coming in uneven gasps and sniffles, but he was starting to calm down.
“We’ll call dada after you take a nap, yeah?” Geoff murmured. “And he can tell you himself that he’s not mad at you.” Awsten nodded sleepily, eyes already shut in exhaustion. Geoff pressed a kiss to the top of his head, smiling softly. “Sleep well, bub.”