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“Mama! P’ease!”
The sound of something rattling along with Martin’s pleading caught Sasha’s attention and she looked up from her book to see him standing in front of her, holding out an unopened box of legos in his hands. “Hey, baby. What’s up?”
Martin stuck out his bottom lip and once against shook the box, rattling the plastic bricks inside, “P’ease, Mama?”
“Martin’s asking if you could open that for him, Mama.” Jon said, not taking his eyes off of the book he was currently absorbed in.
Martin nodded his head eagerly as Sasha reached over and opened the box. “There you are, all ready to play with. Now do you need anything else?”
Martin shook his head and bounced with excitement as he looked into the box. “Alright then, but let me or Papa know if you need help with anything, okay?”
“Tanks, Mama.” Sasha smiled as Martin toddled away, plopping down on the carpet in front of the television as it played daytime cartoons. She watched Martin dump all the blocks onto the floor and carefully piece together his new toy. But even in the peaceful atmosphere of the living room watching her babies play, tendrils of concern wormed away in her chest, deep enough that she was able to push it down for now but still very much there.
“Ah-ah!”
“Martin, you like green beans.” Tim carefully brought a spoonful of veggies to Martin’s lips only for him to turn away, “Come on, bud. Just a few more bites then you’re all done, yeah?”
“Nuh!” Martin squirmed in his chair and furiously shook his head. Why couldn’t Papa just understand that he was full? He didn’t want any more green beans. “Papa, ah-ah!”
“We’re almost done, Martin. Work with me here, pup.”
“Martin doesn’t wanna eat no more, Papa, he's full.” Jon said, his mouth full of his own food. Martin looked to Jon and nodded, turning his pleading eyes back to Tim who sighed in defeat.
“Alright, alright. You’re free to go, Marto. But next time use your words so I know what’s happening in that big brain of yours.” Martin giggled as Tim ruffled his hair.
The chair Martin sat upon scraped against the floor as he pushed away from the table and stood up, making a beeline for the living room before being stopped by Tim, “Wait, Martin. Wash your hands then you can go.”
“Kay!” Tim watched as Martin followed directions and left the room quickly. Slumping in his chair he pushed the food on his plate with his fork, getting lost in the fog of confusion and worry swirling around in his head.
Martin didn’t talk much when he was regressed, that was one of the first things Tim and Sasha had picked up during the time spent with him. He had some basics down: Please, thank you, Mama, Papa, yes, no. But they were more or less his own version of the words and phrases. They were used to Jon butchering certain words and avoiding more complicated language but at least he was able to use complete sentences. It was rare for Martin to say more than three words at a time.
They were anxious to say the least. Martin had warmed up to them so quickly and everything seemed perfectly fine. But something in the back of their minds drove them to confronting Martin about it, worried that they had somehow done something wrong to warrant this behavior.
“Hey, Martin. You got a sec?”
Martin turned from his position at the stove to see Sasha and Tim lingering in the doorway of the kitchen. “Um, yeah. Dinner’s nearly done but I just have to wait for this to simmer. What’s up?”
He raised his eyebrows as his friends took a seat at the kitchen table and ushered for him to do the same. For a while, the three of them stood in silence, Tim and Sasha obviously antsy over something and Martin slowly growing more nervous by the second.
“Martin, we, uh, we wanted to talk to you about something… regarding your regression.” Sasha started.
“Oh,” The tension in the air formed a knot in Martin’s gut and he played with the apron tied around his torso. “Um, w-what about? Is- is there something wrong? Do you need me to, er, stop or pull back in any way or-”
“No, Martin. No no no no no, nothing like that,” Tim interjected. “You can regress as much as you like whenever you like. Sasha and I love taking care of you, don’t worry. It’s just… are we doing anything wrong? Anything to make you feel… unsafe or uncomfortable?”
“Oh thank god. You two had me worried there.” Martin visibly relaxed but tilted his head in confusion at the question. “Um, no? No, I don’t think so. You two are doing a more than perfect job at, uh, taking care of me when I’m… little.”
Sasha tried not to coo at the blush slowly forming on Martin’s cheeks. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you, Martin. But, Tim and I have been a bit worried because, well, when you’re little you don’t seem to talk that much? And we thought that maybe we were doing something wrong? Like something that made you feel like you couldn’t talk.”
“Yeah, I mean, you and Jon regress to around the same age and he’s such a chatterbox, but you’re so quiet and we just thought… I dunno, you felt like you never have the chance to speak or something like that?” Tim’s gaze fell to the intricate design of the tablecloth as he spoke.
Martin was quiet for a minute, his eyes flitting between his two friends in concentration before he smiled and slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. “G-guys, you two are- wow, that’s really thoughtful of you but no. Don’t worry about that, I just… don’t like talking much when I regress?”
Tim and Sasha balked as Martin stood up and moved to turn off the stove, picking up a wooden spoon and stirring the sauce inside the pot. “So, you’re alright then? With not talking?” Sasha asked tentatively.
“Yup.” Martin stilled his hand and furrowed his brow as he searched for an explanation. “I guess, it kinda started because my mum didn’t like when I talked too much and that sort of bled into my regression. Also the fact that words are hard to grasp when I’m in headspace, not even just big words but all words in general? It’s kind of hard to explain. But I don’t mind being quiet. It takes off a lot of pressure for me honestly. But I can work on talking more if you want?”
“No, Martin, it’s okay.” Sasha said, standing up and striding over next to Martin. She placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed her thumb over the woolen material of his jumper, “You can regress however you like. Don’t let us get in your way. If you don’t wanna use big words or speak at all that’s completely fine by us.”
“Yeah, and besides,” Tim said as he slung his arms over Martin and Sasha’s shoulders, “I think Jon’s been acting as a pretty good translator for us so far.”
Martin laughed as he added pasta into the pot and stirred. “Yeah, he really is. It’s honestly been so great with all of you here. I don’t think I ever got the chance to properly thank you for all this.”
“No need to thank us, Martin,” Sasha said as she squeezed his shoulder, “You’re family now, and we look after each other in this home.”