Work Text:
Wels can't sleep.
It's ironic really, considering, well...
Yeah, he doesn't want to think about that.
Everything feels weird and bad and he's not sure what to do, and it's nearly midnight so he doesn't really want to bother anyone. It's fine. He can look after himself.
He starts by trying to work out what, specifically, feels wrong.
Okay.
Bad feeling number one: tummyache. It takes a while to work out, but he's pretty sure the hurty feeling is hunger. He doesn't really want to get up right now, but at least he knows how to solve that one when he does.
Bad feeling number two: headache, particularly behind his eyes. That probably means he's going to cry soon, which is unfortunate. He doesn't really feel like crying, but the headache suggests that something small could push him over the edge. It's fine.
Bad feeling number three: his bones ache. He spent a lot of time building the previous day, and he maybe sort of didn't take many breaks, and hasn't been using his mobility aids recently. They get in the way and it's annoying, so he sometimes goes without them. Maybe more than he should. There's probably some internalised stuff to unpack there, but he's too tired for that.
Bad feeling number four: too many emotions. His head feels like it's swirling, and he keeps getting flashes of anxiety and sadness. Maybe he needs to regress. He's probably halfway there already. He's got Valour, his stuffed dragon, tucked under his chin, fur grounding as he moves slightly.
He rubs his face against her fur a bit more, the repetitive motion soothing. His brain feels even more foggy that usual, even when regressed. It worries him a little.
Curling up tighter, he lets out a quiet whine. It wasn't a sound he meant to make, in fact he didn't mean to make a sound at all. He frowns, and another whimper comes out.
He chews the tip of Valour's horn, and then all of a sudden he's crying.
Once the tears start they don't stop, and he buries his face in Valour's fur, sobbing.
His brain is begging for comfort, so much so that his chest is physically aching, but his limbs feel too sluggish to move.
He falls asleep feeling miserable, tears still wet on his cheeks.
###
When he wakes up, he feels even worse.
His headache is pounding behind his eyes, the ache in his bones makes him have to bite his tongue to avoid crying out in pain, and when he shifts slightly he realises there is a dampness in his pyjama pants and the bed below him.
He wet the bed.
He hasn't done that since he was actually a child.
Shame and disgust rises in him, cheeks burning, and he's sobbing again, clutching Valour close to his chest.
He's clearly regressed way younger than normal. He's aware enough of that to act on it before he sinks into the headspace completely, and through the tears he manages to locate his communicator on his bedside table.
And then he has the dilemma of who to call.
He'd usually go to Jevin or Hypno, but they're not really caregivers, more like older siblings or something. And they're not familiar with looking after the younger littles, as they tend to only help Wels, and he's normally in the 7-10 range.
But he's small small now, as much as he hates to admit it.
His next thought is Scar, because Scar understands him and his pain so well, and Scar has the best voice for telling stories and Scar makes him feel very safe...
But something inside him doesn't want to go to Scar.
It's stupid.
But he's wet and cold and miserable and he needs help before he's too small to use his communicator so he needs to decide on someone quick.
And then a thought comes unbidden to his mind.
Impulse.
Impulse is big and strong and kind and was with him in the Yes Wings Club.
He's pressing the call button before he's even registered what he's doing.
"Wels? What's up?"
It's probably super early and Impulse will probably be mad at him for waking him up and-
(Ignoring the fact that Impulse can't be mad at anyone).
Wels starts crying again.
"Hey, hey buddy," Impulse immediately starts trying to comfort him, that sweet softness in his voice that makes Wels melt. "Do you need me to come over? I can be there in 5 minutes, okay? Do you want me to stay on call while I make my way over?"
There's some shuffling on Impulse's end that makes it sound like he's already moving.
"Pwease," Wels mumbles, cringing at the sound of his own voice.
Impulse coos gently, "You feelin' smaller than usual, bubs? Is that what this is?"
Wels nods, even though Impulse can't see him, and makes a quiet noise of confirmation.
"Can you tell me what's wrong bubba? Is there anything I can do before I get there?"
"Hurtin'," Wels mumbles, "Icky bwain, an'- an'..."
He trails off, heat rising to his cheeks again. He knows, logically, that Impulse won't be disgusted, but he can't help but be scared.
"What else, love?" Impulse is coaxing without being too stern.
"Had 'n accident..." His voice is barely above a whisper, but Impulse hears him anyway.
"Oh dear, that's no fun. We'll get you cleaned up and in a nice cozy change of clothes. I'm going to hang up now, because I'm right outside, okay? I'll be there in two seconds."
Impulse does hang up then, and Wels cuddles his communicator along with Valour. At some point, he'd stopped crying, but his eyes feel puffy and sore.
The front door opens moments later, and he listens as Impulse approaches his room. When the door to his room swings open, Wels lets out a pitiful whine.
Impulse crosses the room in two strides, crouching down beside his bed with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"Hi sweetheart," Impulse strokes his hair gently, and Wels melts into the touch. "I've got a box of baby stuff in my ender chest, do you want a nice warm bubble bath?"
Wels nods, chewing on Valour's horn again.
"Alright," Impulse produces an ender chest from his inventory, ever prepared, and then from the ender chest he produces a yellow shulker box. "Oh! Before I forget," He turns back to his ender chest, pulling out two potions.
"I've got healing and weakness. I don't know which works better for you..."
###
Wels chooses the weakness potion, mumbling something about how it helps more. It has the side effect of making him, well, weak, and a bit floppy. Impulse scoops him up with ease, gently removing his communicator from his clutches and placing it aside.
"What's your dragon called, sweetheart?" Impulse prompts, carrying him towards the bathroom.
"Vawour," Wels responds, chewing on the dragon's horn.
Impulse shifts his hold, setting Wels on his hip and leaning over to start the bath running. He tips in a decent amount of bubble bath, swishing it around with his hand.
"That's a great name for a dragon," he smiles, setting Wels down on the countertop. Wels curls up a little, blushing.
"Hey love, no need to be embarrassed," He puts his hands on Wels' cheeks, squishing his face a little until Wels giggles. "I'm more than happy to look after you, and I'm so proud of you for asking for help when you need it."
Wels shies away from that a bit, and Impulse doesn't push. Forcing him to love himself isn't going to do anything, it's better to show him how loved he is.
So he helps Wels out of his clothes and into the bath without making a big deal out of anything. And when Wels says he's alright, Impulse leaves to put his pyjamas in the wash and reset his bed. And then he comes back and kneels beside the bath, gently washing Wels' hair for him.
When Wels starts dozing, Impulse rouses him gently and helps him out the bath, wrapping him in a big fluffy towel. Wels leans on him heavily, the weakness potion clearly working.
"C'mon then bud, let's get you dressed and then we can work out what we want to do, alright?"
Wels nods, and cooperates as best he can as Impulse guides him back into his bedroom.
Impulse lays him down on the bed, using the edge of the towel to ruffle his hair dry, stopping it from dripping everywhere. Wels is babbling softly, clutching Valour to his chest. Nothing words, but a nice background noise as Impulse rummages through his chests to find some fresh pyjamas.
"Hey bud," He approaches the bed again. "I need to ask you something, okay? And I need you to give me the answer you want to give, not the answer you think I want. Can you do that for me?"
Wels blinks at him, bringing Valour up to hide his face a little. It seems to take him a moment to process, before he eventually nods.
"I have diapers in my baby box. Since you had an accident last night, do you want to try one? You can take it off if you don't like it..."
Wels hesitates a long moment, before he finally mumbles, "Pwease."
"Alright bubs," He turns to his enderchest, and Wels speaks again.
"Can I have a paci too pwease."
Impulse coos, "Of course you can angel."
He gives Wels the paci- light blue with a little rabbit on it- before sorting out the diaper. Wels hides his face, blushing bright red the whole time.
Once he's done, he helps him into his pyjamas, before putting the towel away.
"There we go, all set."
###
They spend the rest of the day lounging in bed, Wels laying on Impulse's chest. He spends his time dozing, idly suckling the pacifier and shifting occasionally, pressing his face into Valour's fur and letting out a few sleepy mumbles.
Impulse himself uses the time to sort through some messages on his communicator and arrange some things with Tango and Gem, all while keeping one hand in Wels' hair, humming softly to soothe him.
It's early evening when Wels stirs, starting to fuss a little. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what the problem is.
"You hungry bubs?"
Wels makes a grumbling noise that could probably be a yes.
"Do you think you can manage solid foods, or do you want me to heat up a bottle?"
"Mhn... Bottle, pwease."
"Alright, do you wanna come with me while I do it?"
Wels nods, and Impulse scoops him up, setting him on his hip. Wels curls his fingers in Impulse's shirt, resting his head against his shoulder.
Impulse finds himself settling into his own headspace with ease- the caregiver headspace that makes him feel warm and solid and dependable. He feels comfortable like this, heating up a bottle of milk with one hand while the other supports Wels where he's sat on his hip.
Impulse has never particularly felt the need to regress himself, but he thinks he understands it now. The peace. The getting out of your own head. It makes sense. It's how he feels when he's completely in the zone as a caregiver.
Seated on the couch, tenderly giving Wels the bottle while the TV plays cartoons quietly in the background, it's perfect.
