Chapter Text
“When was the last time you brushed your hair?”
The question came as a surprise, not only because of what it was asking, but because Ren had been so positive he was alone. It was the middle of the night and he had been pacing the halls of his castle, too stressed to sleep, and no one else should have been there. After spinning on his heel, he held out an ax, gripped so hard his knuckles were turning pale. Especially when he realizes who had been behind him, he keeps the weapon held close.
“Why are ye in mine castle?” Ren hisses, noticing his own drooping shoulders and straightening his posture immediately.
“You can drop this silly talk, man.” Doc says calmly, hands held behind his back as he looks down to the other from across the hall.
The king’s eyes narrow through his blue tinted glasses onto the creeper hybrid in front of him, his stance staying rigid and tall, “What do you want?” He asks, having let go of his recently taken-up pattern of speech for now. He doesn’t mind it most times, but there are moments where it gets tiring trying to put up a front.
“I asked you a question first.”
Ren huffs out a slight breath as he puts his ax away and crosses his arms, “I don’t know, a few days, maybe a–a week, I don’t know– Why do you care?”
“You always took pride in your hair, what has changed?” Doc questions, voice still calm the whole way through. Even his demeanor stayed just so, showing no signs of any emotion past what could possibly be pensiveness.
To this, the dog hybrid gives a curt chuckle and turns away, starting his walk down his hallway once more, “I’ve been too busy to take care of it. Kingly duties are very time consuming, you see,” After a beat, Ren pulls in a shaky breath, “Maybe I should just cut it off.”
This statement seems to have gotten to Doc, as he was up next to the king’s side immediately, walking with him, “What? You can’t do that. You have been taking such good care of it for years.”
Gingerly, Ren pulls a clumped lock of hair in front of him. His hair had frizzed out to the point that it no longer resembled curls. And while it wasn’t near matted, it was tangled and messy and completely unkempt. For quite some time he’s been keeping it held back in a hair tie, out of his face and out of mind – it seems he hasn’t realized how bad it’s gotten. He wishes Bdubs would have said something, the embarrassment of realizing someone else could notice how bad it had become was tugging shamefully on his mind.
“I might have to. Monarchs can’t be looking like this, it’s distasteful.”
“I’m not letting you cut off your hair.” Doc tells him, bypassing the ‘monarch’ comment and looking down at the mess behind his friend.
“You can’t tell me what to do, the king does as he wants and–”
“Let me stop you there,” Doc says, planting his feet in place and grabbing the other by his wrist, “Put aside all this stupid king stuff, dude. First and foremost we’re supposed to be friends, and a friend wouldn’t let their friend do something they will regret.”
“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me after I, well… took over.” Ren says slowly, feeling every word catching in his throat as he speaks it. He knows he had done this to himself – pushed away friends because he wanted to be king – and sometimes he wishes he hadn’t taken it upon himself to try and bring ‘order’ to the server; it was a stupid excuse to make things easier on himself. It only ended up making things way more difficult.
“I don’t want anything to do with King Ren.” Doc corrects him, letting go of the other’s wrist, “You’re still my friend underneath all this gaud. Hell, you’re still my little Ren behind all of this.”
Ren scoffs at this, putting his arms over his chest and staring away from the creeper hybrid, “I don’t have the time to be that. Little Ren can wait until I don’t have things to take care of.”
“You’re not doing anything now, are you?”
“Of course I am! I– um, I’m…” Ren swallows back his guilt, bringing a hand up to mess with the soft scruff underneath his chin as he searches for an excuse, “I’m waiting for Bdubs to come back with some… very important information. Yeah, that’s it. He should be back any time now.”
Doc raises his eyebrows, a disbelieving smile perking up one side of his lips, “That’s great, I’ve been meaning to give him something. I guess I’ll just wait here with you.”
“Well, no–” Ren puts his hands out, waving them slightly while his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he tries to find something else to say, “You can’t. This is top secret royal stuff. You can’t be here when he gets here.”
“Not even for a second? All I have to do is give him something.”
“Nope! You’ll have to give it to him later.” Ren suggests, pushing his friend around and beginning to shove him towards the door. Doc was much taller than him though, and barely moved about a foot before he pressed his feet into the ground and stood still.
“He’s not really coming, is he?” Doc questions knowingly, turning back to face the dog hybrid. With raised eyebrows and half-lidded eyes, he didn’t look like he would take a single more second of Ren’s lie.
“No…” Ren says quietly, bringing his arms back into himself and hugging them around his chest. One glance into the other’s eyes, and he shifts his gaze to the floor, feeling guilty for lying about it. He’s not sure why, though, given he’s not completely honest all the time anyways. It might’ve had something to do with the swirling nerves running through his chest, fogging into his brain and causing him to want to shrink in on himself.
“Then why are you trying to get rid of me?” Doc asks him.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
Slowly, Doc’s face softens and he takes a step closer towards Ren, holding a hand out and gently placing it to the other’s arm, “I’m not mad at you. I just want you to take better care of yourself is all.”
“It’s hard to.” Ren replies meekly, hands clutching onto his red robe as he tries to keep himself grounded in an adult headspace. It’s truly telling how long it’s been since he last properly slipped, given that simply having his caregiver around was enough to bring up the fuzzy cotton-like feeling that grows in his body and fogs his head.
It seems that he’s not the only one who’s being pulled towards something, as Doc offers a hug to him with his arms open. After a moment of hesitation, Ren shuffles forwards and drops his head against the creeper hybrid’s chest. Warm, strong arms wrap around him and hold him in a soft hug.
“Let me take care of you, puppy. Just for tonight, okay? You can go back to playing king in the morning.” Doc suggested to him, gently running a hand up and down the other’s back in a soothing motion.
“M’not playing king.” Ren huffs, nuzzling his face against his caregiver’s chest. He drops his arms from over himself and wraps them around the other instead.
“Alright, buddy. Then you can go back to being king in the morning. For now, a little guy like you should not be all alone in his castle, don’t you think?”
With an understanding sigh, Ren hugs tighter onto Doc, nodding slightly against him and humming a confirmation. Without any hassle, the other was scooping Ren up into his arms, supporting most of his weight with his robotic arm. The little one just puts his own arms around Doc’s neck, holding on as he’s carefully carried away.
After some quiet questioning, Ren tells Doc where his bedroom was. The castle was huge, and while the “king’s quarters” were supposedly quite big as well, his real room was incredibly small. Doc can only wonder if this was intentional or not as he looks over the messy area. The bed wasn’t made, clothes sat at the end and on the floor next to it as well; under the bed was a mess of stuffed animals, blankets, and coloring books. Looking over to an incredibly small desk, Doc can even spot a half-empty sippy cup and multiple chewelry around it.
The creeper hybrid wonders if Ren had been trying to take care of himself. The thought of his little hermit curled up in bed alone was enough to tug at his heartstrings, guilt of his own kind pooling in his stomach. It wasn’t just Ren’s responsibility to come to him when he had felt small, Doc should have been checking up on him. He can’t believe he let this slip by for so long.
“Where are your clothes, puppy?” Doc asks of him softly, setting the little onto his bed and slowly taking his arms from around him. After he was gestured towards the tall and skinny dresser in a corner, he searched through the deep drawers inside. Taking only a few moments to decide what to grab out, he soon held a pair of pajamas that he had gifted Ren a while back. Together, the top and bottom resemble the depth of space, stars scattered about it at random and the rest of it a deep black in color.
Doc helps Ren unlatch his robe, folding it to set aside. He also unclasps the suspenders clipped onto his jeans, and puts those away as well. Once he was sure Ren could finish the rest himself, Doc left him alone to stand outside the door. The shuffling inside was indicative of the little struggling to get his outfit off and his pajamas on, which only served to make the caregiver’s heart hurt. Even with the disagreements towards the royalty of the server, he should have still put it aside and checked in on Ren. It was especially wrong of him to have stayed away when his friend would have needed him most; not that he knew that though, Ren never gave any indication that this all had been stressful to him.
Nonetheless, he was here now, and he had much to make up for.
Behind him, the door creaks open, and Ren stands in the crack of the opening as he hums a quiet “Done.” Turning back to him, Doc pushes the door open the rest of the way and looks over the little, giving a nod in content with his outfit. He carefully takes the blue glasses from Ren’s face and folds them up, setting them aside.
“Would you let me wash your hair?” He asks, offering out a hand to the little. With no hesitation, Ren’s hand meets his and softly wraps around it.
“Will you be gentle?”
“Of course, puppy. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Doc tells him, slowly leading him out of the room and towards a bathroom he had passed on the way there. Ren agrees, again on the stipulation that the caregiver is careful, and follows him. As soon as they step foot into the bathroom, Doc is pushing a stool to the edge of the bathtub. He brings Ren to sit down on it, and then wraps a towel over the little’s shoulders, leaning him back until his hair rests down towards the tub.
Glad to see the showerhead was detachable, he takes it from the mount and turns the water on. It doesn’t take long before the cold water turns warm, leading to Doc setting his hand between Ren’s hair and his forehead as to make sure no water would spray into his eyes. He quickly wets down all of Ren’s hair, watching as the brown turns darker with the added weight of water. Once his whole head was thoroughly wet, Doc turns the water off and searches between bottles on a shelf for shampoo. Picking out the correct bottle, he squirts some into the palm of his non-robotic hand and begins lathering it against the little’s skull.
As he rubs the suds down further towards the tips of his hair, he adds a little more shampoo to the top of his head and gently scratches it in. Ren’s ears flatten slightly towards his head at this, and he smiles, hands tapping against his knees as a way to get out the pleasant energy building up in them from the treatment. Doc can’t help it when he softly scratches the shampoo in for far longer than he needed to just so he can keep that gleeful expression played out on Ren’s face.
At some point he did have to stop and rinse it out. Once he has done this, he repeats his mimistations with conditioner, except this time he knows to add much more into the dog hybrid’s hair than he did with shampoo. There have been a few times Doc has washed Ren’s hair for him, and he certainly learned after the first time how to do it correctly. The first time he had to wash his hair for him, Ren had been quite small and had complained about how greasy his hair had become. So, he offered to help wash it, and did just that. Except, the next day, when Ren had come out of his headspace only to realize his hair was a dry web of friz, he gave Doc a stern talking to about how his hair needed to be taken care of in a very specific way.
Doc certainly gained an understanding to not make the same mistakes, and by now he was at least moderately good at fixing up Ren’s hair for him. So he lathered in the conditioner and let it sit for a few minutes as he searched for a brush. After finding the right kind of brush (Ren had a million different kinds of them), he used it to softly start brushing out the knots while being mindful of his ears. The conditioner helps soften them up, and he was happy to hear no complaints or sounds of hurt from the little as he does this. He takes his time though, making sure to brush through all of his hair and keeping the strokes of the brush gingerly in motion.
As soon as he was certain there were no more knots, Doc rinses the conditioner out and reaches for some other products. A small jar of coconut oil, and a little bottle of leave-in conditioner. Scooping up some of the half-way solidified coconut oil, he warms it in his palm and gently runs it through the little’s wet hair. On top of it, he runs his fingers through with the conditioner, making sure to spread it evenly across his curling hair.
Using a new towel, Doc scrunches Ren’s hair dry, making sure not to rub it dry or clench it together too hard. When he can deem it dry enough through this method, he motions for Ren to sit up. Instantly, the little ran a hand over his hair, amazed at the difference it had from just so many minutes ago.
“Would you like me to braid it, little one?”
Ren turns back to him, pursing his lips in thought with his ears perked up. A smile is quick to grace his lips, quirking up both corners as he nods. It’s been very long since he had done anything to his hair, let alone have it styled or braided.
Doc sits on the closed toilet seat, scooting the stool Ren sat on in front of him. Behind him, he plugs in a hair dryer and flips it on to its lowest heat setting. This was another thing Ren had once explained to him, that too much heat would mess with his hair, and that air drying was much better for it – but blow drying it on a low setting wasn’t a big enough issue for him to avoid it altogether. Doc supposes, if he wants it braided, it’s got to be dry.
It takes an unbelievably long amount of time to dry the dog hybrid’s hair, and while Doc didn’t mind it, Ren was certainly getting antsy; both legs bouncing and softly clapping the heels of his hands together. By the time Doc had put the blow dryer away and was beginning to section his hair off into three equal parts, Ren was beginning to chew at the end of his pajama sleeve.
“Use your chewelry, puppy.” Doc reminds him gently, starting the first twist of the braid.
“Don’t have ‘em.” Ren responds guiltily, dropping his arm into his lap and feeling his ears lower slightly towards his head.
Doc stops braiding for a moment to look over the little’s shoulder, confused, “Why not?” Ren always had at least a chewelry bracelet on, using it even outside of his regression.
Shaking one of his hands slightly for a moment, Ren then forces himself to sit still and then puts his hand down, “A’cuz kings don’t use them.”
“Anyone can use them,” Doc says carefully, eyebrows pinched up with slight worry, “Even kings.”
Ren doesn’t respond with anything more than a sigh, shuffling his fingers together in front of him as he distracts himself. Doc leaves it for now, knowing that being a voice of reason wouldn’t do much right now for the little guy. Instead, he gets back to braiding, twisting one section over another again and again until he reaches the very ends of his hair. With quick handy work, Doc ties it off with a hair tie and settles the braid down the middle of Ren’s back.
“All done,” Doc says, patting his shoulder. Ren shoots up off of the stool and looks at himself in the mirror above the sink. Carefully pulling the braid over his shoulder so he could see it, the dog hybrid can’t help it as both of his hands flap in excitement. Behind him, his tail wags happily, and he turns back to Doc only to throw his arms around him in a hug.
Giving a soft chuckle, Doc rubs a hand over Ren’s back as he returns the hug.
“We should not let your hair get like that again, okay little one?” Doc tells him, pulling from the hug to rest his warm palm onto the other’s cheek. Leaning into it, Ren nods with a smile, and presses his own hands against his caregiver’s as he takes in the warmth on his cheek.
“M’kay Papa.” Ren hums softly, nuzzling against his hand with his tail still wagging slowly behind him.
This earns a wide smile from Doc, who removes his hand from his cheek only to instead pull the little up into his arms. After securing a good hold on him, he leaves the bathroom and heads towards where he was sure he had passed a kitchen.
“Have you eaten?” He asks, stepping onto the tile of the kitchen. Ren shakes his head, holding tightly onto the other.
The dog hybrid certainly loved being carried, and physical touch was always something he craved. Lately he doesn’t get anything more than a pat on the back after a hard day’s work. It must have been really itching into him, seeing as he was all too happy to cling onto his caregiver and practically wrap his whole self around him.
Opening the fridge and rummaging inside with one hand, Doc pulls out an oven dish covered with foil. Setting it on a counter, he peeks inside to see what it was, and was pleased to see a heavy helping of lasagna. Leftovers weren’t always as good as freshly made food, but with it being so late at night, he doesn’t have time to cook something up for the little hermit. Leftover lasagna should do just fine.
Shifting Ren to get a better hold, Doc finds a plate to put the food on and tosses it in the microwave, blasting it for a couple minutes. As the food reheats, he wanders through a large opening into a dining room. He sets the little down into a chair, pushing him up to the table.
“Wait here just one second, buddy. Papa will be back.” Doc leaves back to the kitchen to get the plate from the microwave. Using a hot-pad underneath so he can hold it, he finds a fork and a napkin before bringing it all to the table.
“Eat what you can, okay?” Doc tells him as he sets the food down in front of him, handing over the fork.
Happy to dig in, Ren made sure to be careful as to not get any food on his pajamas. With the first bite, he realizes just how hungry he was, his stomach grumbling from not having eaten all day. He ends up finishing off his plate, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as he sits back, full. Doc takes the plate away, setting it into the kitchen while Ren watches him. Moments later, the creeper hybrid was picking him up yet again, holding him up easily with his robotic arm and giving him a few comforting bounces.
A long yawn makes its way out of Ren, the lateness of the night finally seeping in now that he wasn’t so caught up with his royal matters and anxieties. Laying his head against Doc’s shoulder, he grabs at his white coat and rubs the fabric between his fingers, finding himself zoning out for the time being. Vaguely he can feel Doc walking along the hallways once more, perhaps trying to find his way back to Ren’s room. Or maybe he was taking the stroll on purpose, intending to carry the little hermit around and soothe him into an even deeper tiredness before bed. Either way, Ren quite enjoyed the ride, the monotony of each step lulling his eyelids closer together; his body and mind felt airy and light, as if he was being carried by the wind.
Ren doesn’t register as he’s set down in his bed, instead what catches his attention is a pacifier being pressed to his lips. Believe him, he’s not too fond of these things, he’s far more of a chewer than anything – which is why he owns so much chewelry – so his first reaction as it settled between his teeth was that of confusion. Unfocused, half-lidded eyes gaze up to his caregiver, wordlessly wondering why he was given the soother.
“If you don’t want it that’s fine,” Doc tells him gently, “I had the thought that you’re feeling very small.” He explains, pulling the blanket from the bed and setting a pillow at the headboard.
Running his fingers along the velvet bed sheet under him, Ren focuses on the pacifier and takes his time to decide if he wants to keep it or not. In the end, he gives in to it, letting it settle between his lips comfortably. Then, he notices he’s motioned to lay down, which he promptly does and rests his head onto the soft pillow. Doc reaches under the bed and pulls up a stuffed wolf, handing it over to Ren and watching as he hugs it close to his chest. Pulling the blanket up and over the little hermit’s shoulders, Doc tucks it underneath the dog hybrid nice and tightly, just the way he likes it.
“Good night, little one.” Doc whispers sweetly to him, reaching over to the bedside lamp and pulling the cord to turn it off.
Despite how tired Ren was, he sits up quickly, completely undoing the tucked blanket around him, “No leave–” he whines softly, “Wanna Papa cuddle.” Reaching an arm over, he grabs for the creeper hybrid and clutches his fingers onto his white coat.
While Doc seems to have some hesitation to this, he gives a single understanding nod. After he pulls off his coat – folding it up and setting it aside – he also kicks off his boots, putting them near the door. He’s not sure how well Ren would take it if he wakes up big and they’re snuggled up, but he’d much rather deal with an annoyed adult Ren than a sad little one.
“Alright then, puppy.” Doc hums as he comes around the bed, picking up the edge of the blanket and sliding underneath.
A few moments of shuffling later, and Doc has got the little hermit clung around him. Ren presses his face into Doc’s chest, one arm laid over his middle. The creeper hybrid rests a protective hold around the little’s back with his robotic arm, his other hand finding the arm across his chest and resting over it. Instead of letting it stay like that, Ren moved his hand until he was gently grabbing onto the other’s, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently. Doc chuckles softly at this, rubbing a thumb across the dog hybrid’s knuckles comfortingly.
Nuzzling closer to his caregiver, Ren relaxes against him and sleepily plays with his fingers. He tries to stay awake, wanting to bask in the comfort he’s brought by the other. And he does quite well for a while, the floatiness in his head rocking him back and forth between almost falling into dreamland and staying focused on the warmth under his cheek.
Listening to the heartbeat under him, Ren is reminded that as of right now he’s not as alone as he often feels. Given that he has quite a few people in his court, he shouldn’t be so lonely, but there’s something so indescribable about having so many others surrounding you and still feeling alone. Again, he knows he did that to himself, but for now he can pretend that he doesn’t have to care about anything in the world except for this moment. Not that the cottony fog around his brain would let him, but his point stands – just for this small fraction of a moment in time, he will allow himself to forget about his troubles.
And that’s why he tries to stay awake for as long as possible, hugging onto Doc and focusing on the sound of his breathing. He’s told quite a few times, “Stop trying to stay awake, little one. You need rest.” but he doesn’t listen to that even though he knows he should.
If he can just stay awake long enough to burn this memory into his mind, maybe it’ll be enough fuel for him for weeks to come. If he can capture this feeling and remember vividly how it swirls around inside of him, he won’t need anything more than the memory of this moment to get him through whatever hardships await his reign. And he will be able to come back to this moment like it’s a passage in a book; one he would read every night just so he can get some sleep. All because he doesn’t have time – more like he won’t allow himself the time – to have the real thing. He knows, when this moment has fizzled out and his head is screwed back on tightly, he won’t give himself the time of day. A memory will be all he will want to allow himself to indulge in.
Thus, he drinks it in, even through the muddled process of an exhausted mind. Ren tries to remember everything just as it is – the soft sheets underneath them, the protective hug around his back, the long fingers that let him squeeze and move each one around as he sees fit, the steady heartbeat playing through to his ear, the warmth of the body underneath his cheek, the sound of his caregiver’s voice as he tells him to sleep for a fourth time – he prays he can remember this all.
Of course, it overwhelms his exhausted, childish brain. He knows he’s trying so hard to take this all in for a bigger him, a him that will want to feel as safe and comfortable as he does right now; and he desperately wants to hand over this gift because he understands firsthand how much crap he’s been going through lately. But again, it’s overwhelming trying to take on the pleading emotions meant for an adult, and so he finds himself tearing up, pressing his face harder into the warmth of Doc’s chest and hoping to will his tears away before they’re noticed by the other.
It’s inevitable though, as Doc pulls his hand out of Ren’s grip to softly move his face off him. A warm thumb runs under one of his eyes, catching the tears as they fall and quickly swiping them away.
Sniffling quietly, Ren leans against Doc’s hand and tries not to remember this part. He hears words from his caregiver, but none of them make it past his ears and decode into anything he understands. A question from the other’s lips falls away unanswered as Ren nuzzles into his shoulder with a whine. This is the point that Doc must understand, as he doesn’t speak anymore and instead soothingly rubs over his back, holding him close.
Ren feels lucky when his mind finally comes to a calm, his tiredness finally catching up to him and pushing away the unpleasant feelings to be replaced with a quiet numbness; nothing more, nothing less. He’s since forgotten what had overwhelmed him, forgotten his silent mission to have captured this memory as vividly as possible. Surely, if he knew what he had forgotten, he’d be glad not to care anymore.
Finally, the little hermit finds himself floating towards a dream, slowly losing the ability to move his limbs or curl his fingers around the hand that finds his. He’s incredibly comfortable as sleep takes full hold of him, mirrored just as tightly and protectively as Doc was holding around him.