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“Wait, with Martin?”
“You should’ve seen them, Sash,” Tim is putting away dinner and Jon is comfortably nestled in Sasha’s arms on the couch. He’s about to fall asleep but he likes to listen in on their conversations, though it’s a toss-up on whether he’ll remember them. He gets foggy when he’s little. “Jon’s just latched onto him like a little vampire, gnawing at his fucking shoulder-”
“Language, Tim!” Sasha exclaims, covering Jon’s ears. But it’s not like he didn’t know that word. He’s just not supposed to use it.
“..’uck!” Jon contributes. This makes his Papa laugh and his Mama groan. He likes when they do that.
“And he didn’t freak out? We’re not going into a mess tomorrow, are we?”
“No, quite the opposite,” Tim replies, leaning against the counter. “Well, he wasn’t a fan of the biting. But he seemed really...I don’t know, fond? He was just letting Jon hang on to him. I was a bit worried because of the whole ‘massive crush’ thing, but he seemed to adapt pretty quickly.”
“Well, that’s nice, I suppose,” Sasha’s running a hand through his hair and it feels very nice. Sometimes she scratches at his scalp; he likes that best. “We should talk about this when he’s big again. In the meantime,” she stops her ministrations and gives him a stern look. “What did we say about biting?”
“I ‘unno,” Jon replies but Mama’s not letting up on that scary stare. “Sof’ n’ happy...so I chew.” It’s true. He saw Martin’s face and thought warm, happy, tea. And then the jumper was just as soft as it looked and he had to let Martin know that.
“I think he gets overwhelmed and excited and just...chomps!” Papa’s next to them on the sofa now, taking Jon into his lap. “Cause he only does it when he’s happy.”
“Chomp, chomp,” Jon repeats as he nuzzles into Tim’s chest. Papa is the best snuggler. He likes coming over to his house, and Jon’s been here every night this week so far. He’s tired and comfy, and the rest of the conversation fades away as he slips into much-needed sleep.
“Do you want to-”
“No.”
Jon’s back to being Jon this morning. Big, cranky, snippy Jon. He thinks Tim and Sasha like him better when he’s little. It’s not surprising, big Jon isn’t that fun to be around, not since his promotion. He’s been slipping more and more into headspace, at inconvenient times. He has a job to do, but his mind doesn’t seem to grasp that. Tim and Sasha have been running interference since he started.
“Jon,” Sasha sets down her purse to join him at the table. “I just think we should consider actually talking to him about it. That way you wouldn’t need to hide so much, you can make a new friend-” She pats him once on the arm and he flinches, dodging out of the grip. Sasha will slip into a gentle coo even when he’s not in headspace. He thinks she doesn’t mean to, but maybe she’s trying to keep him there where he’s nice and agreeable.
“I don’t wan’ to.” He’s slipping again, like he always does when he can’t handle the stress. Tim and Sasha want to pawn you off, Tim and Sasha don’t want you anymore, Tim and Sasha are tired of you.
“Alright, that’s fine,” Sasha moves away from the table and throws her purse over her shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about it now. Just say the word, though. I don’t think it’ll go as badly as you think it will.”
Jon knows this. He remembers Martin, remembers him being very nice and understanding, despite the fact that Jon bit him. He’s always found Martin to be a comforting, if annoying presence. But now he’d gone and draped himself all over him like an idiot and now there’s one more person who knows about his dumb little secret.
That’s why he dodges out of the way when he sees Martin at work. Hides himself in his office over the next few days, makes Tim and Sasha run files out to him. Martin only comes in to give him tea and a sad little look that Jon tries to ignore. There’s a statement sitting on his desk, one of the bad ones. One of the real ones. He needs to record it, but he can’t bring himself to press play. Jon gets bad when he records them. Tim and Sasha have held him through many a nightmare and he wants to give them a break. They’re tired too; he’s not the only one suffering. He lets it sit at the corner of his desk while he fidgets and squirms, his mind unfocused and foggy.
“Oh, Jon. Don’t do that!”
He didn’t notice Martin enter the room or put a cup of tea on his desk. Was he that out of it? Martin’s got his hand around his arm and is gently pulling at it; Jon had the knuckle of his index finger in his mouth and was biting hard. The skin around it is an angry red.
“O-Oh,” he stutters, not fighting against Martin. He’s using that gentle, stern voice that his Papa always uses when he’s worried, so he has to obey. “S-Sorry, Didn’ mean to.”
“That’s alright,” Martin says, kind and soft. “Just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He seems to realize how close he is to Jon because he jumps back, his face flushing red. “Um, sorry about that-”
“Can I talk to my Archivist, Martin? Just for a moment.”
Jon’s heart plummets. Elias is standing in the doorway with an unreadable look on his face. Maybe he’s amused. Maybe he’s disappointed. He’s scared Martin off, that’s for sure; Jon watches as his assistant stumbles out of the room almost immediately.
“Ah, Jon. How are you doing?”
Stay big. Stay big.
“U-Um, fine, it’s going...going very w-well.” He can’t look up at Elias as he says this, because then he’ll be caught in a lie. Mama always told him he was a very bad liar. But his hands have to be giving him away, shaking and twitching as they are. “D-Did you need something?”
Elias doesn’t respond for a few moments, so he hazards a look at his face and wishes he hadn’t. There’s pity there, disappointment, and something...something mean. “Oh, Jon,” he begins, and Jon can feel his eyes water. “You said this wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I-I-”
Two years ago, back when Jon was just a researcher, Elias had happened upon him in one of his fits, hiding under a desk in the library and wailing like a baby. He’d been too out of it to register the indignity of the situation and had immediately latched on to the first face he saw, which happened to be the head of the institute wandering in after hours. And he’d been kind, rubbing his back and running a hand through his hair and murmuring low in his ear.
“What’s wrong, little one?” He sounded so nice.
“S-Saw a-a-a spider!” Jon choked through hiccupping sobs. Elias’s eyes narrowed in what could have been interest or concern, maybe both. But he held him until he calmed down, and made sure there were no spiders left on his desk.
He never told Tim and Sasha about the incident, too embarrassed to ever bring it up. But Elias had been so kind to him after that, always asking after him, letting him have time when he needed it. But now, ever since this promotion he didn’t deserve, Elias has been pushy. The last thing Jon wants to do is disappoint him, especially after all he’s done for him.
“It’s not- not gonna be a problem, promise! ” His mind is dizzy at the very thought of Elias being mad at him. “I- I record today. Ri-right now.”
“That’s a good boy.” Jon glows at the praise and gives him a shaky smile that Elias returns. “Now get to work. Make me proud.”
“Y-Yes, I will!”
He will. He has to. When Elias at last closes the door, Jon grasps at his tape player, and presses the record button.
Martin watches as Elias leaves Jon’s office, his face cool and impassive as he nods at them on his way out. Both Tim and Sasha are on the edge of their seats, waiting to be let back in. “He hasn’t been in the best place these past few days,” Martin hears Sasha whisper. He hopes it's not because of him; maybe it’s just the stress of the job? When he saw him at his desk, chewing on his finger and looking distressed, he couldn’t help but go into mother-hen mode. And those big, trusting eyes and apology he’d gotten in return made his heart skip a beat.
But the thought of Elias being in there when Jon was so vulnerable put him on edge. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust the man...well, he might not trust the man, but he doesn’t think him capable of cruelty. And Jon isn’t in the right state of mind for a lecture right now. What if Elias found out and fired him? Jon isn’t the nicest boss, but he doesn’t want him gone. Not now, when all he wants to do is take care of him and make him happy.
“Do you think we should go in there?” he asks the other two. “He looked a little...distraught when I was in there today. Fragile.”
“God, I knew it was a bad idea to bring him in today,” Sasha says as she jumps up from her chair, Tim along with her. “Should’ve taken the day off. I know he hates hovering, but-”
A bang and a cry came from the hallway. Without hesitation, the three of them ran to Jon’s office to find the chair thrown back into the wall and the sound of whimpers coming from the back of the room.
“Jon? Sweetheart, where are you?” Sasha’s rushing around, looking in every nook and cranny of the room, even the impossibly small ones.
“Back here!” Tim is knelt down by a cabinet that’s at maximum a foot off the ground. “Jon, baby, why are you under there? C’mon, come to Papa.” There’s a tiny foot peeking out from under the cabinet that Tim tugs on, but all he gets in response is a yelp and renewed sobs. How did he get under there, Martin wonders. That can’t be comfortable or safe.
Sasha’s at the other side, attempting to coax him out. “It’s alright, honey. Elias is gone, it’s just us. Tell Mama what’s wrong.”
The scene in front of Martin is so strange- his two coworkers knelt in his boss’s office trying to get said boss out from under a cabinet. But it’s also oddly domestic. Tim and Sasha so easily slip into the role of caring parents like it’s second-nature. Martin would go over there with him if he wasn’t afraid of scaring Jon further. He still didn’t know where he stood with him, although he’s shown such affection when he was in headspace.
Tim’s looking more and more distressed with every sob that comes out of Jon’s throat. “Look buddy, I can’t get you out of there, I don’t want to hurt you.” It doesn’t work, Jon seems to be completely out of it, sniffling and hiccupping.
“Oh! Hold on,” Sasha opens and shuts a few drawers in the desk beside them, smiling as she finds what she’s looking for- a small packet of biscuits that she subsequently tears open. “Look, baby! I got your favorite snack.” She waves a biscuit down where Jon can see, and Martin’s surprised to find that the crying actually softens. A hand reaches out to snatch it, but Sasha pulls it out of reach. “You can have it if you come out. You’ll choke if you eat it under there.” The wailing re-commences, but Sasha waits it out, ever-patient. Eventually, two arms reach out and pull forward, and Jon appears, his face blotchy and red from the crying fit.
“Wan’- I wan’-” He can’t form the words, like he’s struggling to get enough sound out. Sasha beams at him and pulls Jon into her arms- Martin can’t help but notice how well he fits. “I know you want, baby,” Sasha says as she feeds him a bit of the biscuit. It immediately quiets him- baby Jon must have a sweet tooth. “Good boy.”
Jon stiffens at the words, going tense in Sasha’s arms. “...need to record,” he mumbles into her side. “Gotta...gotta be good boy an’ record.”
“What do you mean, Jon?” Tim’s behind Sasha, kneeling down to meet Jon’s eyes. “Who told you that?” His eyes are narrowed like he already knows the answer. Martin thinks he does too.
“E-Elias..” Jon admits with a pout. Martin sees Tim and Sasha freeze at the implications of this. Did Elias know about Jon’s regression? Was he using it against him? The thought fills Martin with rage; the very idea that someone would take advantage of Jon like this makes him incredibly angry. But then again, maybe Jon wasn’t aware of what he was saying. He didn’t know him that well, not when he was like this.
“We’ll talk about this at home,” Sasha’s voice is hard. “Now’s not the time.” She’s got a hand to the back of Jon’s head, guiding it over her shoulder. He’s calmed down considerably by now, but that might just be because Tim is dangling a biscuit behind Sasha’s back, breaking off a piece to put in Jon’s mouth.
“Jon, don’t chew on my- Tim! You’re going to spoil his appetite!”
“Look at his face, Sasha! How can you say no to that face?”
Martin snickers and three faces swivel around to meet his. They must have forgotten he was in the room. But Jon grins widely, much like he did a few nights ago, and crawls out of Sasha’s arms, coming to a stop at his feet and making those grabby hands again.
“You- you want up?” he asks, his voice going high as it always does when he’s talking to a child. Jon nods and he waits no further, scooping him up and letting Jon nuzzle his face into his jumper. He’s getting biscuit crumbs all over him, but he pays it no mind. Tim and Sasha are smiling out of the corner of his eye.
“Tea?” Jon whispers into his ear, like he’s imparting a request that only Martin is supposed to hear. Martin looks over to Tim and Sasha for help.
“He can have tea,” Martin can hear the smile in her voice. “As long as you help him with it.”
“Um, a-alright!” Martin shifts a hand behind Jon’s head, like he’s seen Tim and Sasha do. “Let’s go get you some tea, hm?”
The squeal that answers him is a sound he never thought he’d hear out of Jon but it makes him smile anyway. How could anyone ever want to upset him? He can hear Tim and Sasha muttering behind him, clearly discussing the topic. He’ll regroup with them later, ask how he can help.
For now, he’s got Jon to take care of.