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“There’s nothing to worry about; they’re friends.”
That’s what Veronica told him before sending him to his inevitable doom. And no, he’s not being dramatic about that.
There are only two people in the world he trusts enough to be regressed around: his therapist and Veronica. Needless to say, the Heathers, Kurt, and Ram rank nowhere on this list.
Quite honestly, he’d rather die than spend the afternoon with those five, but Veronica is sick with the flu and she did ask nicely, so it’s basically like he has no other choice.
Even though he’s technically—a word which he uses very loosely—a member of the Sawyer household now, he could never ask her parents to drive him anywhere. Sure, Chandler’s house is on the opposite side of town, but it’s not that big of a walk. His dad dragged him all across the country, including a handful of big cities where an hour-long walk is considered the norm. A walk through a town like Sherwood is no big deal.
Half of him wants to turn and run, to stake out the local 7/11. What’s more walking anyway? Besides, he’s really craving a slushie. It wouldn’t be bad to just tell Veronica he went, right?
He sighs and knocks. If only Chandler and Veronica weren’t most likely texting each other right now. If only Veronica wouldn’t make that face when he got back, that one where’s she so sad that he must up. It’d only look sadder because of how sick she is, her skin pale and chalky, her eyes tired and half-focused.
Heather Chandler is obviously on her best behavior, because she answers the door almost right away and offers him a small smile. “Come on in. We’re playing Mario Kart.”
“Are we?” Heather Duke calls from the living room. “Are we? We’ve been waiting forever!”
“I told you to go onto the next race without me! You didn’t listen!” Chandler fondly rolls her eyes. “She always does this,” she says, smiling like she’s sharing a secret.
JD tries to smile back—because it’s polite, because it’s what you’re supposed to do to prove you’re not an unhinged attempted murderer anymore—but it feels fake and weak on his lips.
But before things can get awkward, Chandler waves him inside. “Snacks’ll be in a bit. Veronica said you hadn’t eaten today. In the meantime you can watch these kids kill each other.”
JD freezes for a horrible second before it sinks in that she’s not being serious. Because that’s a thing normal people can use as a figure of speech. A spike of pain shoots up his leg, just another unwelcome reminder of his bad decisions.
He follows her inside, dread coiling in his stomach.
Mac, Duke, and Kurt are sitting on the floor, a Nintendo Switch between them. Mario Kart looks amazing on the 98-inch television, even if it is just the character selection screen. Ram sits away from the action, surrounded by a tornado of textbooks and scowling into his notebook.
JJ winces. Veronica’s taught him well, because the need to say sorry bubbles up in his chest. Kurt and Ram especially have been struggling to catch up after the months they spent in the hospital, and it seems Ram especially is having a tough time. He has to be, if he’s spending a Saturday with algebra instead of Mario Kart.
JJ sits a little off to the side. He doesn’t feel brave enough to claim one of the bean bag chairs, and sitting far away will just prove how much he doesn’t want to be here, so he takes a spot on the side opposite of Heather Chandler. His fingers tighten around the sleeves of his trenchcoat. This is for Veronica, he reminds himself. He’s doing this for Ronnie.
Chandler rushes through choosing her character and kart, so she either doesn’t care what she’s getting or knows the game incredibly well. With her, it could be either. She definitely strikes him as the type that plays to win, but then again, so does everyone else.
When the race starts, JJ finally gets a real idea with who he’s dealing with. Kurt and Duke rocket to the front of the pack, drifting and taking shortcuts until they’re just fighting against each other.
McNamara is stuck dead in the middle. While she’s not a bad racer, she does end up getting hit by a series of rather unfortunate items, but she doesn’t seem particularly upset about it.
Chandler isn’t far behind her, but it doesn’t seem like she’s trying. No one really notices in the chaos of trying to watch their own sides of the screen, but she hardly seems like she’s trying. JJ finds out why when Mac gets some sort of speed item and blows past her.
Heather’s kart veers off the road, bumped by Mac’s cart. “Heather, was that you?”
McNamara giggles. “Yeah!”
“Shoot, well, now we gotta trade insurance information. Hold on, let me get my card out.” Chandler pulls her cart off to the side of the road, where she quietly searches her purse for her insurance card while Kurt and Duke fight for first.
“You’re gonna have to catch me!” McNamara giggles. She sputters her way across the course, spinning out more times than JJ can count.
But Chandler has mastered the art of searching blindly in her purse, and when there’s no way for McNamara to lose third, she wields the controller like a pro and guns it, wrapping up the race before anyone has the chance to get bored waiting for her and the computer players.
McNamara beams. “I got top three!”
“Good job!” Chandler pulls her in for a hug, which Duke scrambles to join in.
JJ averts his eyes. He hates watching how naturally they fall into each other. It only makes him feel like more of an outsider.
Chandler waves a controller in his direction, jolting him from his thoughts. “Game’s all yours if you wanna join.”
JJ tries not to grimace. “No, thank you.” They don’t know him that well, so it’s understandable, but Ronnie doesn’t let him play party games because he gets too mad. Even now, he doesn’t want to tempt fate.
Besides, he’s never been good at video games. In fact, the most experience he’s had is from stealing the rich kids’ handhelds and rigging arcade machines for infinite plays. It’s unlikely either of those will give him any advantage here, and the last thing he wants to do is get caught in the middle of the pushing and shoving and trash talk that this game encourages.
Chandler just shrugs. “Suit yourself. Ram?”
Ram’s only answer is a single prolonged groan.
“Mood.” Chandler stands and claps her hands, single-handedly grabbing everyone’s attention. “Alright, kids, we’ve gone three rounds of Mario Kart without a fist fight so let’s count our victories and bust out the snacks.”
Duke grumbles a complaint, but she still collects everyone’s controllers and puts them away neatly. Does that mean she’s the oldest? Veronica mentioned that the three of them have different headspace ages, so it makes sense.
JJ doesn’t follow the girls when they leave. He hasn’t had much of an appetite since Veronica got sick, so it’s not like he’s missing anything.
Maybe it’s stupid to stay there in the living room, with someone who he attempted to shoot and kill and is probably still upset about that, but it feels safer than with the girls. He’s sure that the second Duke realizes he’s there, she’ll go from harmless to merciless. He’ll never forget the way she turned on Veronica and Heather Mac when she got a hold of that red scrunchie.
“Hey, dude.” Kurt sits beside him on the floor, granola bar in hand.
JJ tries to not let his fear show. That always made his dad go a little easier on him. “What do you want?”
Kurt holds up his hands, his eyes going wide. He’s littler than the girls, but he likes to pretend he’s older, especially in front of JJ. “Easy, dude. No need to punch me in the face. Again.”
JJ’s face burns. So that’s what this was about. “Sorry.”
“Hey, no worries. Just wanted to make sure you were okay and stuff.” Kurt reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small packet of gummies. “In case you didn’t wanna go in there.”
Now JJ’s scared for a whole different reason. It doesn’t make sense that Kurt, someone who he—once again—tried to kill with a gun, would bother reaching out to him and making him feel welcome.
JJ narrows his eyes, trying his best to look threatening when he’s small, scared, and out of his element. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“Because forgiveness and all that crap.” Kurt mutters with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, it’s hard to find other regressors and it’s boring around here with just the girls. They’re fun but they always wanna play girly games.” He grimaces, no doubt reflecting on the endless tea parties he’s been forced to attend.
“How are you not mad that…” JJ trails off. He doesn’t want to say it. It feels like there’s a magic spell that’s been cast over them, and the second he reminds them that he tried to kill most of them, their kindness will dissipate and he’ll be spending his afternoon walking back home.
“I am mad. A lot. And so’s everyone else. But it’s not like we’re gonna waste our time with that anymore. You needed our help.”
JJ isn’t sure if this counts as needing their help. It’s not like he needs someone watching over him while he’s regressed. But maybe that’s not what Kurt’s talking about. Maybe it’s about the lonely nights at home, the lonelier days at in the same place.
He’s not allowed at the school anymore, for everyone’s safety, including his own, so most days he’s confined to Veronica’s house, teaching himself subjects and working through a seemingly endless mountain of homework.
Kurt must realize something is wrong. “Hey, do you want to sneak some candy? I’m not allowed to have too much sugar with my current medication, but a little won’t hurt, and it’s not like we’ll get caught. Ram won’t wake up for shit.”
“No thanks.” JJ glances over to confirm that Ram had fallen asleep in his textbook. His notebook is slipping out of his fingers, his textbook just about to slide off his lap. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s been staying up late almost every night.” Kurt says. After a moment, he frowns. “He’s had a real hard time catching up with school and shit.”
“What about you?”
Kurt shrugs. “I just did what I could and turned everything in at once. It doesn’t matter, I don’t think. Can’t pull up my grades at this point. Can’t play football. The Heathers want to move into some apartment in the city together so I guess I’m gonna work at Wal-Mart or something.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kurt just shrugs again. “It’s whatever. I try not to think about it.”
They settle into an uncomfortable silence after that. He can hear the shuffle of dishes from the kitchen, and from the way the little Heathers are piping up with cries of “apple!” and “fruit punch!” they must be getting juice. From the armchair, Ram’s breathing has steadily been getting heavier, so he’s bound to start snoring.
And here he is, trapping Kurt in the world’s most awkward conversation. JJ can’t really get a read on him. He doesn’t really act regressed—or at least, what JJ sees as regressed. Then again, the only regressor he’s ever known is himself, and he’s not exactly the poster child for being good at this regressing thing.
“Can I ask a weird question?” Kurt asks. He jiggles his left leg as he speaks, and he’s avoiding eye contact.
Okay, maybe he’s more regressed than JJ first thought. “Go ahead?”
“Is it true you lost your leg in that explosion?” Kurt asks after a moment.
JJ hesitates. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about his leg, it’s that nobody else does. Even Veronica has been pointedly avoiding the subject when possible. If he’s being honest with himself, which he rarely ever is, he’s been waiting for someone to ask.
“Uh… yeah.” JJ says. “The bomb was just supposed to trigger the thermals, so it didn’t produce that big of an explosion. Still, the doctors say I got really lucky.”
“Did it, like, hurt?”
JJ blinks in disbelief. “Did losing my whole leg hurt?” He has to repeat the question just to make sure he heard right.
Kurt’s face heats up, and he has the grace to duck his head. “You’re right.”
“It didn’t.” JJ offers. It’s strange, but seeing Kurt look so embarrassed almost made him feel ashamed. “At least, it didn’t at first. I kind of passed out—I think I hit my head right after the blast. It hurts now, though. Especially when I have to walk a lot.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure?” No one ever asks to see it. In fact, most people like to pretend it’s not even there. Even Veronica doesn’t like to look at it for too long. It’s not like she’s mean about it or anything, but he can always see that flash of discomfort when she helps him put it on.
JJ rolls up his pant leg expected the worst, either for Kurt to grimace or go running or maybe just laugh at him. Whatever magic has kept the interaction positive for this long is bound to run out any minute now.
Kurt’s eyes go wide. “Whoa.”
JJ winces, ready for the torrent of sympathies.
“That’s so cool.”
Wait. What?
“It’s like a forever cast!” Kurt exclaims. “Do you get to draw on it? Can I sign your leg?”
“I think so?” The doctor hadn’t really covered prosthetic decoration when he’d gotten it. He’d picked the cheapest model he could find, since the Sawyers were footing most of the bill, so it wasn’t like he’d be damaging anything with it.
“Hey, Mac!” Kurt calls urgently. “Get your stickers! It’s an emergency!”
Next thing JJ knows, he’s surrounded by three regressors far more comfortable in their own headspaces as they decorate his prosthetic leg with more stickers than he’s ever seen in his life.
Mac and Duke keep making stories with the stickers, something about a cat that celebrates Easter—he hasn’t really been paying attention—while Kurt draws racecars in washable marker. Maybe the racecars are part of the cat Easter story, but he can’t be sure.
Because without realizing it, he’s comfortably, completely fallen into headspace. Most of his assigned regression time is spent half-small, hackles raised, like he’s waiting for the moment where he has to fight back or run for his life.
But now, it’s weird, because he almost feels welcome, and the soft haze of headspace washing over him in comforting waves. It’s the kind of relaxed he’s only felt a handful of times in his life.
It’s the kind that reminds him of his mom.
After his prosthetic has been thoroughly decorated, the focus shifts back to video games. The others must pick up on the fact that he doesn’t want to play Mario Kart, so Mac offers to show him around her Animal Crossing island instead. She even lets him play for a bit, though he mostly just goes around shaking trees.
Kurt silently moves over to the space on the floor Ram’s taken up. He’s on his side now, using his algebra textbook for a pillow. JJ wonders what Kurt’s doing, but tries not to stare as he picks up the textbooks one by one and sets them in a neat pile. Finally, once he has enough space, Kurt settles in against Ram’s side and lets his eyes flutter shut.
JJ didn’t plan on staying for dinner, but the idea sounds much more appealing than eating alone with Veronica’s parents. And besides, it’s hard to say no when Mac is tugging at his sleeve and begging him to stay.
It’s nothing fancy. Chandler and Ram made spaghetti, and JJ doesn’t eat enough to do anything more than just pick at what he’s given, but the conversation feels so active.
Once the plates are washed, dried, and put away, Mac decides she doesn’t want to be little anymore, and she and Duke leave not much later. The Heathers all share hugs on their way out, clinging to they’re one another’s last lifelines.
Kurt and Ram soon leave as well, although Kurt is still regressed when they go. He gives JJ a little wave as he leaves, one that JJ can’t help but return.
“Grab some leftovers.” Chandler says. “I’ll drive you home.”
Her tone leaves no room to protest.
Heather plays her music for most of the ride home, making sure there are no gaps for forced conversation. JJ appreciates it. He’d rather be listening to Superbass than awkwardly talking about how homeschooling is going.
Still, a single thought is nagging at the back of his mind as they pull into the Sawyer driveway. “Kurt said you were still mad.”
It’s turned into a fear into an impulse. If it’s something that could ruin the fragile good thing they have going on, why not do the very thing that could destroy it? Why not? It’s inevitable anyway.
But Heather doesn’t scowl, her face doesn’t pinch in that special way it does when she’s truly furious. Instead, she takes a deep breath and taps to ten as she does. So maybe he’s not the only one currently in therapy.
“I’m not thrilled, but I’ll get over it.” Heather tells him finally. “Besides, you make the babs happy. That’s all I can ask for. I hope you stick around.” She waves him off, saying in no uncertain terms that he needed to get out of her car.
He’s more than happy to comply. Even if he doesn’t like her, it doesn’t mean he can’t feel guilty as hell whenever he looks at her.
She idles in the driveway until he makes it to his front door. He has no idea what she expects to attack him when the sun is just barely setting, but the more he sees of her actually caring for people, the more he knows this is just how she operates.
JD hesitates in the front door and waves, a gesture that she returns before speeding off, well over the local limit.
They weren’t on good terms, by any means.
But they were certainly getting there.