Work Text:
‘We’ve got a problem.’
Jake rolled his eyes. “Look, tell Steven I’ll wash the dishes after his shift. I know he don’t like touching meat grease.”
‘JAKE.’ Marc’s voice jumped. ‘We’ve got a real problem.’
“Uh, okay.” Jake sat on the couch. “Should I--”
‘Get in here. Now.’
Jake didn’t like when none of them were fronting the body. It left them vulnerable. Marc knew how much he hated it; which meant something was really wrong.
He laid down on the couch and shut his eyes; if Layla happened on them, she’d just think they were asleep. Hopefully.
He forced himself into the inner world version of the flat; currently it was a blend between their new place and the old one. Steven’s books lined the walls, along with the empty fish tank. But the new couch was there too, as well as their separate bedrooms. It had been some months since they'd all met, and Jake was starting to feel more at home being with the other Alters.
Speaking of the others, they were short one british nerd.
Marc stood before him, hands curled together into his chest; a very Steven gesture.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you--did you do any magic on your mission last night? Or get hit by any?”
The unsteady tone in Marc’s voice unnerved him further. “Nope, just used my guns and fists. Strictly a vanilla human fight.”
Marc closed his eyes. “Shit.”
“Why? You guys hate it when I use magic.”
“Because that might explain this.” On the last word, Marc opened his hands.
A very tiny Steven sat in his palm.
“Mierda.” Jake kept his voice low. “How the fuck did he get like this?”
“I have no idea.”
Jake leaned in. “Patojo, what happened?”
Steven shot a look up at Marc. Marc gave him a small nod. What--
The little squeaking noises would have been adorable in another circumstance.
“Oh shit.” Jake hissed. “We shouldn’t have trouble understanding him in our own fucking brain.”
“I know.” Marc looked pained. “I checked on him because his shift at the library is coming up, and he was still asleep. I thought he was asleep, anyway.”
Steven was hunched in on himself, arms around his knees. He looked to be only a few inches high, maybe the size of a mouse. The squeaking wasn’t helping that comparison.
“What do we do? Should I call El Jefe?”
“It’s gotta be psychological, not magic.” Marc shook his head. “I don’t want that vulture anywhere near him.”
“What about the Doc?” Jake wasn’t sure he trusted their therapist all the way, but so far she’d been helpful.
“Maybe. I’m not sure how we’d tackle THAT. ‘Hey, Steven’s inner-world self has shrunk, is there a pill for that?’”
Steven dropped his head down, hiding his face.
“Hey kid, it’s okay.” Jake reached out, but stopped himself. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Look, either way, we’ve got to cover his shift at work first. And you can’t do his accent, so I guess that’s on me.”
“Like you’re much better. And wait, he can’t front?”
“He tried, nothing happened.”
“Of course not. That’d be too easy.” Jake groaned.
Marc moved his hands towards Jake. “Here.”
“What?”
“You’ve got to stay with him.”
“Uh. I…yeah.” Jake held his hands out. Of course he did. He couldn’t leave the kid alone like this, even if it was in the safety of the inner world flat.
Steven raised his head. He forced himself to stand up and walk across their fingers.
Jake swallowed a lump. Steven looked totally miserable. Of course he was miserable.
“Let me know if anything changes, okay?” Marc said as Steven coiled into Jake’s palm.
“Si, will do. Just don’t get him fired, okay?”
Marc nodded, not smiling.
Then Steven and Jake were alone.
Shit. What did he do now?
Jake drew his hands back to his chest, heart thudding. He felt Steven lay against his shirt. The kid was cuddly at the best of times, and this sure as hell wasn’t that.
Jake walked slowly to the couch; he knew how much it sucked to be carried while going fast. “We’ll figure this out.”
Another small noise from Steven.
“Okay, first we gotta figure out a way to talk. This ain’t cutting it. Do we have any pencils…of course we don’t, why the fuck would we need pencils in our head.”
There was a probably a way to manifest some, but Jake didn’t feel like wearing himself out over that; his energy was better spent other ways.
“Okay, how about this, simple as we can; you hit me once for yes, twice for no.” He leaned back a little, letting himself sink into the couch. It was used and comfortable, even in their mind.
A tentative *tap* on his heart.
“Hey, I can take more abuse than that Patojo.” He forced mirth into his voice. “It ain’t too loud for you, is it?”
*tap tap* A little harder.
“Okay, good. You been like this all morning?”
*tap*
“I figured you wanted to sleep in before work.” Jake had been on a mission the previous night, and kept fronting into the morning. He’d even taken the time to make himself scrambled eggs and toast; he didn’t cook often, but it was easy and tasty. “Did anything weird happen yesterday?”
*tap tap* Then a few seconds later *tap*.
What did that mean? “Not sure?”
*tap* Steven looked up at him, clearly frustrated.
“Sorry Steven; I have no idea what to ask. I shoulda had Marc call in sick; he’d be better for this.” Jake groaned. “We know I’m not the brains of the operation.”
Steven’s expression darkened. He shouted something up at him and started beating at Jake’s chest.
Of course it didn’t hurt, but Jake winced anyway. “Okay, okay, sorry. No self deprecating, got it.”
Steven stopped his assault, satisfied that Jake understood. He sat down, laying his whole body against Jake’s chest.
It was so weird. None of this was real, not in any way they could ever qualify. Steven wasn’t actually tiny. And Jake wasn’t holding him. This was all just thoughts, swirling around as Marc tried to fake his way through a shift at the library.
But it was real, too. Steven was feeling…small. Vulnerable, probably. And while they’d all felt like that before, it had never manifested by changing what they looked like in here. Which probably meant the kid was going through something extreme.
Even if he wasn’t sure what it was.
Well, whatever it was, it was clear Steven needed comforting. Jake, as gently as possible, trailed a fingertip down from his messy mop of hair. “Gotta get you a haircut. Looks like a bird’s nest.”
Steven batted at the fingertip, not angrily. He liked his hair like it was. It drove Marc and Jake nuts, but hey, if the kid didn't brush while fronting that was his business.
Jake tried to draw his finger back, but Steven clung to it, letting out frantic squeaks.
“Hey, okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Jake trailed the digit down his back a few times. Steven seemed to vibrate under the touch. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.
“Jesus Steven, are you that touch starved? Layla’s only been gone a few days.” He kept the motion up.
*tap*
“Is that what’s wrong?” If it was, this should be fixing it; Steven couldn’t get much closer to one of the Alters than this.
Another set of three ‘I don’t know’ taps followed.
“Well, I think we’re onto somethin’ here.” And even if they weren’t, it was making Steven feel better. That was a win, no matter what.
But it was too quiet, and Jake didn’t know what to say. He grasped at straws. “You’re not still mad about the last time I shrunk us to sneak around the bad guys, are you?”
*tap tap*
“Yeah, I figured. You’ve never been quiet about that.” And it wasn’t like it was a regular thing; it just came in handy, sometimes. “This hasn’t happened before, right?”
*tap tap*
“I fig--”
*tap*
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Steven shrugged. He wasn’t looking at Jake’s face.
“When weird shit happens, you need to fucking tell us.” Jake tried not to snarl.
Steven pulled away from him, staring into the distance. He could give Marc a run for his money when he really felt broody.
Jake lifted his hand up and away from his chest, going slow to keep from frightening Steven. “Were you ever going to tell us?"
Steven shrugged.
“Jesus, it’s like dealing with a teenager.” Why was Steven being so fucking coy? "Seriously, you haven't woken up tiny and unable to front before. We would have noticed."
*tap tap* Steven drummed on his palm.
"So…between this and normal?" Enough so Steven could tell something was off, but not enough for them to notice.
*...tap* Steven hunched his shoulders but didn’t raise his eyes.
"The Doc said we're supposed to talk when there's a problem." Time to try a new tactic. "That's rule number-fucking-one."
Jake expected Steven to yell at him or flip him off; he was usually the best about following the Doc’s orders and wouldn’t want to be lectured about it, least of all by Jake.
He didn’t expect Steven to fall forward, burying his face in his arms. He laid across Jake’s palm, shaking, trying not to cry.
“Shit, shit.” Jake hissed. He’d completely misread things; Steven hadn’t been mad, he’d been trying to hold it together. “Steven, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--mierda.”
Steven paid no attention to Jake’s stumbling apology. Forget moody teenager, this was inconsolable teenager throwing themselves onto the bed in a fit of despair. It would be funny if it wasn’t Steven.
Jake, at a loss, tried stroking his fingertip down Steven’s back. The Alter didn’t change position, but he didn’t flinch from the touch either. “Patojo, you can’t bottle stuff up. Even I know that’s shit for your mental health.”
Steven took a deep breath. He was still shaking.
"So, something upset you, and you didn't want to tell me and Marc. And now you can't tell us because psychological BS turned you into a Borrower."
Steven uncurled one arm and slapped it against Jake’s palm.
Well that was fan-fucking-tastic.
"Okay, so if I can figure this out maybe we can get you back to normal." Jesus, why did Marc have to be the one fronting? He and Steven knew each other so much better. He'd have had this figured out right away.
Steven finally picked himself up. He was scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, trying not to be obvious about wiping the tears away.
That ship had sailed, hit an iceberg, and sunk.
"Okay, guess we're gonna have to do twenty questions." Jake said as Steven settled himself.
Well, if they were gonna be talking, he might as well get comfortable. "I'm gonna fix the couch up. Can I put you on the coffee ta--"
The hang-dog look Steven gave him cut him off mid-sentence.
"Okay, that’s a no. How about my shirt pocket then?"
Steven gave him a small smile and nodded.
"Okay." Ever-so-gently, Jake tipped him into the pocket. He felt Steven wiggle around, finding a comfortable spot. "You good?"
*tap*
Jake piled all the pillows onto one end of the couch and laid back. He’d expected Steven to climb back out once he was semi-horizontal (more diagonal at least), but the Alter was apparently comfortable.
Weird, but who was he to judge? "So, did Marc do something?"
*tap tap*
"Did I?"
*...tap*
"Mierda." Of course it was something he did. Marc and Steven were doing so well before he was discovered; Marc wouldn't have done anything to make Steven shrink in on himself and be afraid to talk.
“I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”
Nothing.
“Did I say something?” That could cover a whole swath of problems.
*tap tap*
What the hell had he done? He’d been busy lately; going on missions for Khonshu, ribbing Marc (and gently prodding Steven), and he’d shown up at the last therapy appointment.
He thought it had been going good.
“God, I am some kinda idiot.” He muttered. “I am just no good at reading you, Steven. I should have known I’d done something stupid.”
*tap tap*
“I shouldn’t have known? No offense, but you’re not great at hiding your emotions. Which means I am an oblivious idiot.”
*TAP TAP* Much harder this time.
“I know, the Doc said not to talk like that. But it’s true. I hurt you, and didn’t know.” Times like this, he knew just how Marc felt. It was so much easier not to hurt someone when they never knew you were there. “Is this a recent thing?”
*tap tap tap*
“...Okay, no idea how to interpret that.” Jake frowned.
There was the faintest squeak of frustration from his pocket.
“Like I said, I’m not the brains of the operation.”
More furious tapping followed; Steven trying to smack some self-esteem into him.
Jake reached into his pocket and scooped the Alter out. He’d caught Steven by the back of his shirt, but the other man didn’t seem to mind too much (okay, weird again, but not the thing to focus on). He was shouting and pointing at Jake, completely oblivious to how ridiculous it was to shout down a man over twenty times his size.
Sometimes he forgot how brave Steven actually was.
“Steven, listen to me.” He spoke over the stream of squeaks (not exactly hard). “I don’t know what I did, so I can’t give you a decent apology. But once we figure it out, I won’t do whatever it was again. Does that help?”
Steven rubbed a hand against his face, and drew in a deep breath. He gestured downwards.
Jake set Steven down on his chest. Steven thought for a moment before pointing at Jake.
“Me?”
Steven nodded. He put one hand out, palm flat, and used his other hand to do the ‘two fingers walking’ gesture.
“Me going places?” Jake ventured.
Another nod. Steven pressed his hands together, thinking of how to get the rest of the message across. He pointed to himself.
“You.” Jake didn’t like where this was going.
Steven wrapped his arms around himself and sat down, looking miserable.
You…don’t like when I go places?”
He was getting closer; the Alter jumped up rolling his hands around; more, apparently.
“Steven, I--”
Steven pointed at him, and mimed what Jake could only describe as a stunt show; lots of finger guns and jumping around.
“You…don’t…like it when I go fight.” Jake pieced together. “Steven, I already know that. We’ve talked about this. I thought you guys were okay with the Khonshu arrangement.”
Steven shook his head and made the more gesture again.
“Okay, shoot.”
Steven tensed his shoulders, and walked forwards, miming opening and shutting a door. He removed an invisible cap and hung it on an invisible hook.
“Yeah, me, I get it.”
Steven raised his hands like they were puppets, one on either side. They seemed to have some kind of conversation.
“You and Marc. That seems about right.” Jake tried for a joke.
Steven dropped his hands for a moment, before bringing one to his mouth. One finger, pressed against his lips in the classic ‘shhhh.’
Then he dropped back to a sitting position, head down, miserable again.
Oh, shit. “You’re…upset that I don’t talk about my missions?”
He uncurled an arm and touched Jake’s chest. *tap*
“Jesus Steven, I didn’t think you wanted to hear about that.” Jake hissed. “It’s not the most heroic stuff. That’s why you don’t co-front or ride shotgun when I do them, isn’t it?”
Steven shrugged.
Jake thought back over the last few nights; Steven had been unusually chatty after the missions; he and Marc had slept through them, as usual. They only came out when Jake reached for them; he tried not to do that.
He’d been trying to get Jake to open up.
Oh, hell.
“Patojo, why didn’t you just ask me?”
Steven squeaked something in reply, looking sad again. He pointed at Jake, and slid a fingertip from his eye down his cheek.
“You didn’t want me to be upset.” Jake groaned. “Marc was right; we’re all complete idiotas.”
Steven looked up, confused.
“You wanted me to tell you about what I do because you were worried. But you didn’t want me to get upset from remembering it, so you just let your anger and worry fester as you danced around the subject and definitely gave yourself a fucking complex in the process because what the hell else is this supposed to symbolize?”
Steven let out a sigh and rubbed a weary hand across his face.
“If you’re worried about me and don’t want me to relive everything, you could just ride shotgun, you know.”
Steven perked up at this, giving Jake a hopeful look.
“It’s not like having you there will distract me. Much.” Jake amended. “Hell, you’d probably be helpful as long as you’re not trying to get me to spare every henchman.”
Steven laughed, which sounded VERY strange given his current dimensions. But it was a hell of a step up from a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, you know what? It might even be good. I seen seasoned fighters get real confused when you come out and start trying to talk them down.” Jake emphasized this by giving Steven an extremely gentle poke in the side. “Might make for a good surprise tactic.”
Steven batted at his fingertip, still smiling.
“Yeah, you’d make a great decoy.” Jake swiped at Steven’s curls. “And then when they think they’ve got this sweet little British dork on the ropes, BAM, I step in and kick ass. Or you pull out the batons and go to town.”
He demonstrated this fantasy assault team-up by nudging Steven again. The Alter flopped forward, not in a fit of despair, but trying to hold in high-pitched giggles at the ticklish attack.
“Patojo, you being cute is not a reasonable form of defense.” Jake teased. Steven waved him off and splayed both his arms out, pressing himself into Jake’s chest.
Oh Jesus, was he really trying to give Jake a hug? “Ah, Steven, I love you.”
Whatever Jake’s next thought was was disrupted by a normal-size Steven laying across his body.
“Oh my God--” Steven yelped and promptly fell off Jake and onto the floor.
Jake sucked in a breath of air. “What the fuck?!”
“Uh, you got me.” Steven got up, sheepishly dusting himself off. “Guess that last push was what I needed.”
Jake sat up. “You needed me to tell you I LOVE YOU?!”
“I guess?”
Jake jumped up and grabbed him in a hug. “Of course I love you, idiota. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Steven reciprocated. “Sorry, I’ll try not to. It wasn’t so bad at the end there, though.”
“You’re really that starved for affection, huh? What, has Layla stopped--”
“NO!” Steven cut him off, blushing. “No, it’s just…nice. I knew you weren’t going to hurt me, and it was just…safe. It felt good.”
Safety, huh? “No wonder you liked being in my pocket. That’s about the safest place we could ever have you.”
“Oh God, this is getting really strange. I shouldn’t have said anything.” His cheeks were aflame.
“Kid, if you need a cuddle and that’s the way you feel comfortable doing it, I’m sure we can work that out.” Jake sighed.
Steven gave him a confused look. “Really?”
“Everything else about us is already so damn weird. Why the hell not? But better not spring it on Marc too suddenly.”
“Oh shit, Marc. I better start fronting and let him know I’m alright.” Steven fretted.
“Go, go. I’ll give him the details. If you’re comfortable with that.”
“Yeah, I am. And just so you’re not surprised, I wouldn’t wonder if he wants to tag along on missions sometimes too.” Steven said.
“Because that went so great before.”
“Hey, we defeated a whole cult working together, I think it worked out pretty great.”
“I guess so.” Jake replied. “Well, hurry up. I want to fill him in and then take a long rest. And not because I’m hurt or upset by the last mission, or from you, okay?”
“It helps to know that.” Steven admitted. “We’ll talk more later, okay?”
“Si.”
Jake dropped onto the couch the moment Steven left. Marc would be in soon, demanding answers. Jake would tell him, and then he’d take a nice, long nap.
And hope to God everyone remained their proper scale long enough to actually get some rest.