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Nathaniel was confused on many counts of occurrences in the house he found himself in. The children, while wary of him, frequently said hello. The adults, while angry at him, treated him with civility. Nothing made sense, black was white, up was down, and it made Nathaniel incredibly frustrated.
The most frustrating thing through all of this, though, was Nicholas himself.
Nicholas regressed. The entire house knew it. Nathaniel wouldn't be surprised if the entire house regressed on some level. (Except maybe Contraire. Maybe. He didn't put it past her to do it in secret, but she didn't strike him immediately as a regressor.) But Nicholas had taken to a stuffed bear Nathaniel had found and given to him as a peace offering when he was regressed, and refused to go anywhere without it. Nathaniel knew the importance of safety objects with children, but he was most confused on why Nicholas seemingly never named this toy.
All of his stuffed animals had names. All of them. Most of them were puns or elaborate titles. A few had plain names which made Nathaniel think they were toys Nicholas had since he had been adopted--a theory supported by how worn they were. And yet this soft blue bear with a stitched-on frown, a little royal blue ribbon attached to the neck in a bow-tie fashion, was only dubbed "Bubba Bear."
Nathaniel didn't want to ask Nicholas about it. To ask would be to admit he didn't understand, and Nathaniel prided himself on his knowledge. On being self-sufficient. On not needing anyone. But the curiosity was killing him slowly. So when Nicholas and himself were alone in the study, and Nicholas was regressed, with his bear firmly clasped in his left arm, Nathaniel bit the bullet. "Nicholas?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you call your bear that name?"
Nicholas stared up at Nathaniel with a dumbfounded expression. "You mean Bubba Bear?"
"I don't know another bear I would mean, seeing as how that's the only one you have on your person at the moment." Nathaniel's eye twitched. "And you know I don't like saying that word."
"Oh, right. I forgot," Nicholas said with an easy shrug. "You really don't know?"
"Would I be asking if I did?" Nathaniel asked.
"I mean, you ask questions you know the answers to in order to start conversations sometimes."
True. Nathaniel hated that Nicholas had a point. "Well, I don't know at this time. And I'd like to."
"Bubba Bear is Bubba Bear." Nicholas shrugged again, like this was the only explanation needed.
"Nicholas," Nathaniel sighed. "You have stuffed animals that have names like Leopold or Marie Antoinette Lafayette the Fourth. You have toys with puns for names, like Leo the Lion or Quiet the Mouse. But your bear, the one I gave you, doesn't have any of those names."
"Well, you know I can't say your name little," Nicholas said with a shrug. "Every time I try, it comes out wrong in a different way. So Bubba Bear."
"You...named the bear after me?" Nathaniel asked. He was touched, but more confused than ever.
Nicholas nodded.
"I always thought you were trying to call it my bear at first."
"No, you made sure I knew he was mine," Nicholas said. "No 's' at the end of Bubba."
"Yeah, I know," Nathaniel said. He massaged his temples. "But that still doesn't answer my question. You named your bear after me? Why?"
"It's you," Nicholas said simply.
"I'm not a stuffed bear, Nicholas," Nathaniel said.
"No, no, I know!" Nicholas said, crawling across the floor to get on his knees at the front of the couch Nathaniel was reclining on. "But he's blue. Like you. And his face!"
Nicholas shoved the bear's muzzle towards Nathaniel's face. "...Its face," Nathaniel said blankly.
"Yes," Nicholas said, sounding just a touch impatient. "What's he doing?"
"Nothing," Nathaniel said.
"No!" Nicholas said. He gave a put-upon sigh. "He's frowning."
Nathaniel blinked. He felt shame creep up his cheeks and spine. "So you named your bear after me because it's angry?"
"Not angry! Grumpy," Nicholas corrected. "He's grumpy. You're grumpy. He's blue. You're blue. He's you! So he's Bubba Bear."
"I'm not always grumpy, Nicholas."
"No, I know," Nicholas said softly, resting on his haunches. "And I know you don't like showing you're grumpy or sad. But you are! You are with me. And...and I wanna have you wherever I go anyways, because I love you. Grumpy or sad or angry. You can't always be with me, but Bubba Bear can. So I take him everywhere."
Nathaniel wasn't sure if his heart was breaking or healing. His eyes stung and he was struggling to breathe. "Okay," he said, a choked noise that made it sound like he was being strangled.
"Are you okay?" Nicholas asked.
"Get up here and hug me, you goofball," Nathaniel instructed.
Nicholas didn't need another invitation, launching himself into Nathaniel's arms and wrapping tightly around him like an octopus. Nathaniel found the pressure soothing rather than stifling, though. It almost made him want to...no. No, he couldn't drop, he was supposed to be watching Nicholas. He was supposed to be finding weak points that might be useful for when he tried to leave. Inevitably kicked out. The ways he could create the most damage as he left.
"'S okay," Nicholas mumbled into the crook of Nathaniel's neck. "You can trust me."
And, irritatingly enough, that was all the invitation Nathaniel needed. He found himself dropping lower, lower, smaller than he had been in years and years, the thought of playing with Nicholas, and having someone being able to watch out for him instead of having to look after himself allowing him to go lower than normal. Nathaniel held Nicholas tighter, tears slipping down his face. "You don't think I'm always grumpy, right?" Nathaniel whispered.
Nicholas pulled away, which made Nathaniel distressed, until Nicholas shook his head vehemently, curls bobbing. "Nuh-uh. I know you're not grumpy most of the time. But I say that 'cause I know you don't like the others knowing how you feel loads."
"Mhm," Nathaniel agreed. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand.
"How old are you right now?" Nicholas asked. "'Cause I'm." He held up one...two...three! Three fingers.
Nathaniel shakily held up two.
Nicholas gasped, delighted. "I'm older!" he crowed. He laughed, but it wasn't a mean laugh. "Is it okay if I get an adult? Are you okay with them seeing you like this?"
Nathaniel hesitated. He...he didn't want to be seen like this. But he knew he couldn't watch Nicholas, and Nicholas couldn't watch him very well little. He just knew the adults were always angry with him, and he was worried they might use this. Use him.
Nicholas paused. He frowned. "They won't hurt you," he said with certainty Nathaniel thought he shouldn't have. "I promise."
Nathaniel could feel himself crying harder, his breathing catching, and Nicholas looked more distressed. "I can't watch you when 'm little, but I can't age up," he said. "It's the adults or the big kids."
And that was humiliating enough that Nathaniel caved. "Mkay, the adults," he lisped.
Nicholas nodded, toddled his way to the edge of the study, and called, "Papa! Can you c'mere?"
In a moment, Milligan was in the doorframe. "What?! What's wrong?! Your brother didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No!" Nicholas exclaimed, scandalized, as Nathaniel curled in on himself. "Bubba needs help."
"Help?" Milligan repeated dumbly. "What kind of help? Did he get hurt?"
"Nuh-uh. But I can't watch him," Nicholas said.
"He was watching you," Milligan said slowly. "Why would you need to watch him?"
Nathaniel felt like he might melt into a puddle of embarrassment. He shuffled off the couch and to Milligan, not daring to look his brother or Milligan in the eyes as he mumbled, "I...I need the potty, I think?"
Milligan blinked. Once. Then, he sprang into action. "Thanks for telling me, kiddo. Let's go right now, okay?"
Nathaniel nodded, his cheeks bright red and he felt like he might cry more. Milligan escorted him to the bathroom with no fuss, and while Nathaniel fumbled with the soap a few times washing his hands, he made it out without an accident. Milligan was waiting on the other side of the door, Nicholas behind him. "How old are you right now, kiddo?" Milligan asked.
Nicholas stage whispered, "He said he's two! That's younger than I am!"
Milligan tried to stifle a laugh, unsuccessfully. Nathaniel's lip trembled. "I'm not laughing at you, kiddo, I promise," Milligan chuckled. "Your brother just has a certain comedic timing."
Nathaniel risked a glance at Milligan and saw he was serious. Nathaniel looked away. "Why are you nice?" he lisped. "I wasn't. Never ever. And you are."
"Yeah, well..." Milligan led Nathaniel away from the bathroom, to where Nathaniel recognized the nursery being. "I think everyone should be kind if they can be. Even to people who were mean in the past."
Nathaniel didn't understand. "I don't get it," he said. It wasn't whining, because he didn't think he deserved to whine. But he was confused, and that frustrated him.
"That's fine," Milligan assured him. "One day, you might. Now, honesty time, kiddo: do you need protection?"
Nathaniel blushed fire engine red. "I dunno," he said. "I haven't been this little in years."
"We'll put some protection on then, just in case, all right?" Milligan asked patiently.
"Don't wanna," Nathaniel said, and that was definitely whining.
"Papa does it super fast!" Nicholas promised. "An' besides, I knew you had to potty before you knew!"
Nathaniel screwed his eyes shut tight. "Shut up!" he hissed, blushing just as hard as before but now wishing he could melt into a puddle so he couldn't hear this conversation.
"Come on, sweetheart. Up on the table," Milligan coaxed.
Nathaniel sighed and climbed up. Just like Nicholas said, Milligan was fast. All-business. And it did feel better knowing he didn't have to worry if he forgot to check to use the potty. He sat up before Milligan could pull his pants up. "Kid, don't you want your pants?" Milligan asked.
"Nuh-uh," Nathaniel said. "Feel yucky."
"I knew he was wearing yucky pants! I knew it!" Nicholas said. "You wear yucky clothes to look smart even if it hurts you!"
"Nicholas, he deserves to wear what he wants, what makes him feel safe," Milligan explained.
Nathaniel hugged himself and Nicholas blinked. "D'you have stuffies?"
Slowly, Nathaniel shook his head.
"D'you have anything you hug when you're small?" Nicholas pressed.
Nathaniel's eyes lit up in recognition. He kicked off his pants and tore through the house to his room, grabbing his suitcase and pulling it out, grabbing a baby blanket inside, which was covered in elephants. He held it close and felt marginally less uncomfortable as Nicholas and Milligan followed him into his room. "Oh! You have a blankie!" Nicholas exclaimed. "It's cute!"
Nathaniel buried his head in the fabric.
"Milligan, I--oh!" that was Number Two's voice. And Nathaniel didn't dare remove his head from his blanket, knowing he would die of embarrassment if he did. "I should have anticipated this."
"We'll need two high chairs for lunch today," Milligan said drily. "Little one is two. Going to be an ordeal to keep him fed, I can already feel it."
Number Two crept into the room and Nathaniel glanced up over his blanket. She smiled. "It's okay," she said. "We'll make sure you're safe, sweetheart."
"I told you they were nice!" Nicholas said smugly as Nathaniel hesitantly smiled.
Nathaniel stuck his tongue out at Nicholas. Nicholas stuck his out back. "Do you wanna play with Bubba Bear and me?" he asked. "We're going on adventures in the study!"
Slowly, Nathaniel nodded. Nicholas took Nathaniel's arm and dragged him to the study at a frantic pace, causing Nathaniel to stumble and giggle just a bit. "Slow down!" he lisped. "Slow down!"
Nicholas slowed. "What do you want for lunch?" Nicholas asked. "'Cause I know Papa's gonna ask in a minute."
Nathaniel hesitated. He knew what he wanted, but...it was embarrassing. "Peanut butter sandwich?" Nathaniel asked.
Nicholas lit up. "My favorite!"
"Mine, too."
Nicholas grinned. "I'll make sure they make it, then! Come on, let's play before lunch!"
Hesitantly, Nathaniel joined Nicholas in playing, and he thought that maybe, just maybe, he was glad he had dropped.