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Maxie’s taken the same measuring cup back to his office for four days now.
Needless to say, Tabitha is suspicious.
It’s not like Boss, but at the same time, it’s part of a string of strange behaviors Tabitha’s noticed throughout the week. Maxie’s jumpier, less focused. His strange choice of mug is just the tip of the iceberg.
The behavior gets more noticeable at night. Maxie is less present, more distracted. When Tabitha catches him in the kitchen—fourth night in a row, same old measuring cup in hand—it only solidifies Tabitha’s worries.
“Leader Maxie?” Tabitha keeps his voice even. “Is everything alright?”
Maxie turns. He holds the measuring cup close to his chest, almost protectively. It’s half-full with milk, tinged with some flavor additive. Maybe cinnamon?
It takes him a moment to answer, his eyes wide. It’s so unlike Maxie, and seeing how he’s already changed into his night clothes, it hardly feels like he’s looking at the same person.
“I—yes,” Maxie says. “I’ll be fine—I am fine. Nothing… nothing to worry about. Goodnight.”
He leaves without further preamble, making no secret that he’s fleeing. Tabitha’s never heard him stumble through a response so clumsily.
Part of him wants to give chase. To follow and nag and pester until he gets the answers he needs, but Boss is a little… skittish right now. Clearly. It might be best to rethink his strategy. He heads to Courtney’s room.
“Courtney, have you noticed anything strange with Leader Maxie?”
The best thing about Courtney is that she requires no preamble. In fact, she mostly prefers it that way. So when Tabitha barges in, she only lifts her head in acknowledgement.
From the treats in her hand, she’s in the middle of teaching Pecha some new trick. Tabitha thinks it’s a waste, but what she does in her free time is her own business.
“I haven’t seen him since this morning’s speech,” she replies. She tilts her head. “Is something wrong with Leader Maxie?”
“I think he might be…” Tabitha trails off, gesturing vaguely.
He’s seen Maxie small before, but only a handful of times. Frankly, he’s a little worried, never quite sure where their tentative boundaries lay.
From what little he’s seen, yes, Maxie is regressed—or at the very least headed in that direction. But Leader Maxie prefers to keep that part to himself. If Archie were around, Tabitha wouldn’t even be asking. Archie has a sixth sense for Maxie’s regression, and any interference on Tabitha’s part would just be getting in the way.
And, no, he’s not jealous about that, thank you very much.
Courtney, however, has no such reservations. She’s known about Maxie’s regression longer, a point of pride she never lets him forget about. “Baby leader?”
“Well, I don’t know yet.” Tabitha straightens up, half-prepared to catch Courtney before she can go sprinting down the hallway. “We have to be careful about these things.”
Courtney nods. “We don’t want Leader Maxie to feel pressured.” She then deliberately turns to Pecha. “Pecha. Hide and seek.”
Pecha trills with delight and takes off. Even though she’s directly at punting height, Tabitha knows he can’t stop her. Courtney would kill him.
“That’s underhanded, you know.”
Courtney shrugs. “We should go find her. I have no idea where she went.”
She follows after Pecha, but she doesn’t feel the need to keep up the clueless act. Though as they trudge back to Maxie’s chambers, Tabitha can’t help but envy her. Whether it be confidence or thoughtlessness, she’s spent more time with Leader Maxie than he has. And that has to be worth something.
He’s in his office, not his room. Tabitha thanks Arceus every day that Archie was able to convince Maxie to start sleeping in a proper bed, but it’s a lesson that doesn’t always stick. Though on the bright side, it does give them the chance to barge in unannounced.
Courtney and Tabitha share a look. It’s hardly a break-in, but it still feels like a stealth mission. On the count of three…
“Leader Maxie?”
Maxie jumps at their arrival, caught red-faced and red-handed. In one hand, the measuring cup, in the other, a bottle that Tabitha’s definitely never seen before, and the scare he’s gotten causes some milk to spill over the side and down his fingers.
Tabitha freezes up. He’s still learning, but this is so far from what he’s come to expect. He’s used to bossy baby Max, not the scared, one-good-push-away-from-bursting-into-tears babe that’s watching him like a cornered animal.
It feels too personal. He hasn’t even seen Maxie with a pacifier, let alone a bottle. Really, all he’s seen is an old Camerupt plushie, one that’s conspicuously absent at the moment.
He doesn’t know what to say, so it’s Courtney that breaks the silence.
“Hey, you know what they say about crying over spilled milk,” Courtney singsongs.
That earns her a thump on the back of the head from Tabitha. Readjust, restart. It’s easier when she disrupts his tempo like that. “Guess who’s on cleanup duty?”
Pouting, Courtney takes the washcloth from the table and gently mops at the spill. Maxie’s shifted his wide-eyed gaze to her, so she offers him a gentle smile as she runs the cloth over his fingers. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”
It’s clear Maxie’s in no place to argue. In fact, if Tabitha had to take a guess, he’d say that Maxie was probably already regressed when they ran into each other in the kitchen.
But that doesn’t mean he won’t try anyway.
“I’m fine,” he croaks. As if he doesn’t sound downright tiny. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Come on, please?” Courtney begs. She presses closer, and before Tabitha can tell her to back off, she’s already launched her attack. She tickles Maxie’s neck. “Please let us spend time with the baby?”
Maxie squirms out of her touch, a ghost of a smile threatening against his lips. Apparently he doesn’t have it in him to argue, but his voice barely rises above a whisper.
“Alright.” His eyes trail down to the couch. “Pecha’s here.”
“Wow! She always knows when to find you, huh?” Courtney says. She really has no reservations about lying, does she? “Where did she go?”
No sooner than the question is out of her mouth, Maxie’s discarded jacket squirms to life, and a pair of pink ears poke out from under the sleeve.
Courtney claps. “There she is! Your jacket must be pretty cozy, huh?” Her eyes flash to Tabitha, the warning clear. Get over here or else. Coward.
Tabitha’s never been good with kids. He’s said it so many times he feels like a broken record, but still they want him around. Or maybe he just looks awkward standing there. Either way, he intends to give it his best shot.
“And you’re already in your comfy clothes!” Tabitha points out. He joins Maxie and Courtney on the couch, however hesitantly. “Good job!”
Maxie goes red, from the base of his neck all the way up the tips of his ears.
Tabitha tamps down the urge to retreat. Usually his goal is making sure Leader Maxie doesn’t push himself too hard. It goes against his nature to be pushing in the opposite direction.
“Archie didn’t mention a bottle.”
“Archie doesn’t know,” Maxie replies. He takes the bottle and holds it to his chest, half-embarrassed, half-protective. “This would be my first time using it.”
That gives Tabitha pause. “But you’ve taken that measuring cup for four days.”
Maxie’s face glows a glorious bright red. Obviously he hadn’t thought anyone noticed. “Must I say I’m a coward in so many words?”
Tabitha takes careful note of the situation. Leader Maxie always needs a nudge in the right direction when it comes to these sorts of things. He’s sitting on pins and needles right now, so much that even Courtney isn’t sure how to treat him. Leader Maxie needs a nudge, and Tabitha’s no stranger to doing the nudging.
“Here.” He doesn’t give Maxie time to argue before he takes the bottle and measuring cup. “Let Tabi do it.”
Tabitha watches Maxie from the corner of his eye, able to pinpoint the exact moment that Maxie’s brain remembers how to string together a sentence.
“That’s hardly necessary…” He reaches out, but there’s no effort, no fight. He protests because he thinks he has to.
Tabitha shushes him. “You’re a baby. I’ve got this.”
And Maxie has no rebuttal for that. He tucks his hands in close to his chest and lets Tabitha get to work.
The second it’s in his hand, Tabitha can’t help noticing it’s… kinda girly. Not that being girly is a bad thing! It’s just the last thing he’d expect Maxie to have.
His eyes trail down the Jigglypuffs, wrapped in blankets and adorned in sleeping caps. Pastel pink and white bubbles float lazily in the empty spaces between. It’s just… soft. Delicate. Dare he say, cutesy.
Then again, maybe these types of things are hard to buy plain. He can’t imagine anything more being Leader Maxie’s style.
Tabitha pours the milk. The more he looks at the bottle, the more it reminds him of that tea Maxie likes.
“Uh, there you go.” Tabitha hands it back over. His inner critic keeps wondering where his confidence goes, even if he knows that each part is an entirely new challenge.
“Do you need help?” Courtney asks, making no attempt to hide the hope dancing in her eyes.
Maxie’s face burns brighter, if possible. He tucks his knees up against his chest, the bottle warming the space between the two. “I can do it.”
Okay, the attention is clearly too much right now. Tabitha needs a distraction—and not just for Maxie. “Hey, how about we watch a show, huh? Perfect for wind-down time.”
Maxie doesn’t say anything, prompting Tabitha to pick up the slack.
“Why don’t we get comfy in front of the big TV? Think you can get up?”
Just as planned, Maxie’s eyes flash with defiance. Of course he can, so even if he wasn’t feeling so capable a moment ago, he certainly is now. He follows Tabitha, Courtney following closely behind.
The blanket and plushie waiting there for them reveal that, yes, Maxie has been tiny and sleeping on this couch for the past four days. Information Tabitha already knew, but at least he knows where the stuffed Camerupt is.
There’s enough room for all of them to squeeze in, just barely. Maxie in the middle, with Tabitha and Courtney on either side.
“Arms up,” Tabitha instructs, tossing the blanket over Maxie’s lap. He doesn’t miss how Maxie holds the bottle close to his chest, as if he’s scared someone might snatch it away.
“What should we watch?” Courtney asks.
Maxie pauses. They were so close, the nub of the bottle just brushing against his bottom lip, but he pulls back. “You should pick,” he says quietly.
Courtney nods. “Of course.” She takes his laptop and immediately logs in. Why she has the password, or why he doesn’t so much as bat an eye at Courtney knowing it, Tabitha will never understand.
She pulls up a cartoon Tabitha doesn’t recognize, but in his defense, he doesn’t go out of his way to watch many cartoons. Especially ones that look so pastel.
From the look that crosses Maxie’s face, he doesn’t recognize it either, but it doesn’t take long before he’s entranced.
“It’s the one I told you about!” Courtney says. Then, when Maxie shows no signs of recognition, “Buneary Bounce?”
Maxie stares up at her, then finally nods. Tabitha gets the creeping suspicion that he’s not quite processing words as fast as he should.
“Doesn’t it look fun?” Courtney cuddles in on one side, resting her head against his shoulder, and it’s not long before his head comes to lay atop hers.
Tabitha keeps an eye on the both of them, because the show immediately has him checking out. It’s cutesy and low-conflict and the voices are kind of annoying, but it all creates a tolerable lull if he doesn’t focus on it.
Tabitha pretends not to watch as the bottle creeps closer and closer up to Maxie’s lips. It’s like befriending a wild Pokémon, watching them crawl out of their hidey holes step by agonizing step, ready to zip back for cover at any second. No sudden moves, keep quiet.
It's a long process, full of back and forth and close calls. Every time Maxie gets close enough, his adult mind gets the better of him and prompts him to pull away. The longer it goes on, the more Tabitha wishes he could just pop the bottle in and be done with it. But this is a big step, he knows. And that means everything has to be on Maxie’s terms.
The most ironic thing is that it happens when Tabitha isn’t even paying attention. He shifts his focus to the cartoon for a few moments, just out of boredom, and the next time he glances back, Maxie is quietly nursing.
Maybe that’s by design though. Maybe Maxie could feel that he was being watched. Either way, Tabitha’s glad he’s drinking, even if the milk has long gone cold.
Tabitha carefully nudges the Camerupt plush into his arms, an offer that Maxie’s too drifty to reject. The bottle finds purchase on top of its head.
The milk drains and drains, with Maxie sinking lower and lower to accommodate it. He looks like the couch is about to swallow him whole—when a low whine of pain attracts Tabitha’s attention.
“What’s wrong?”
Maxie frowns, finally taking the bottle from his mouth. The dregs of milk and cinnamon slide back down to the bottom as he sets it aside. The look in his eyes is simple but sincere, quietly pleading for Tabi to make it all better. “Back hurts…”
“That’s because you’ve been sleeping on the couch four days straight,” Tabitha reminds him. “Can I get you something? Maybe some medicine or a heating pad?”
“The heating pad, please.”
“Of course! And good manners!” He pats Maxie’s head, because admittedly it is a little fun to embarrass him like that.
The empty bottle is resting between Maxie’s knee and the back of the couch, dangerously close to getting lost in the cushions.
“Here, lemme take this.”
But before he can straighten up, a bony hand winds around his wrist, quivering and nervous. “Wait, please!”
Tabitha can’t react for a moment. He can’t, not when he doesn’t even know what Maxie’s so afraid of. This isn’t the Maxie he knows.
“I’m not taking it where anyone will see,” Tabitha says slowly. From the tremble of Maxie’s brow, his shot in the dark was right on the money. “It’s just going on the table so it doesn’t get lost or knocked around. Is that okay?”
Maxie deliberates over this for a moment. For whatever reason, even the idea of letting the bottle out of his sight is enough to get him worked up.
Courtney shushes him, running a hand up and down his arm. “Hey, it’s okay. Tabitabi knows what he’s doing, right? He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
Tabitha tries not to wince at her choice of words. While true, he can see clear as day what it reminds Maxie of. Tabitha’s said a thousand times that the accusations of betrayal never bothered him, but Leader Maxie doesn’t think the same.
Maxie lets his hand drop, slinking back into the safety of the couch.
“Thank you.” Tabitha wants to stay and comfort, but he knows he wouldn’t do well. His best bet is an apology with a heating pad.
He leaves the bottle upright on the table. No doubt Leader Maxie will be upset about that in the morning, but that’s a trouble for another day.
Tabitha grabs the heating pad from Maxie’s dresser—top drawer, as always. He tries not to linger, for privacy’s sake, but he can’t help but notice that some of Archie’s clothes have slunk their way into Maxie’s personal drawer. Little blue squares littered throughout the red and black.
When Tabitha turns back, Courtney sits perched on the small of Maxie’s back while she rubs at his shoulders.
“Courtney! That’s not helping!”
Courtney blinks at him. “Yeah, but he likes it.”
Maxie hums in agreement. “Pressure’s good.”
“See?” She kneads his shoulders again, unable to keep the smug look off her face. “I’m the expert, remember?”
Tabitha can’t resist rolling his eyes. He could argue with her all day, but she’s not the real authority here. He crouches into Maxie’s line of sight. “Hey, don’t you want your nice heating pad?”
“Courtney’s better.”
Tabitha sinks back into his spot, refusing to give Courtney eye contact. He knows exactly what sort of gloating smirk she has on her face, and he’d rather not see it. Even if that means watching more of this cartoon.
He swears that each episode stretches on forever. Aren’t kids shows supposed to be shorter? How does anyone have the attention span for this?
At the very least, he can keep an eye on Maxie. It’s getting late, which is finally catching up with him. Maxie’s head sinks down, down, down, against his arms, and before Tabitha can even think to disturb him, a soft snore breaks the silence.
Make that five straight days sleeping on the couch, then.
They do what little clean-up they can while Maxie is resting. Courtney can’t climb off his back without rousing him, meaning that Tabitha is once again left with most of the work.
It wouldn’t be awful to sneak the bottle out around midnight and get it washed properly. Same with the measuring cup. Thankfully there’s not much more than that. The trash needs to be taken out, because Maxie’s been living on takeout for the past few days, and the heating pad needs to be put back, but other than that, there’s not much work to speak of.
“Why is Archie calling me?” Courtney mutters in a tone Tabitha probably wasn’t meant to hear. Regardless, she picks up. “Courtney reporting.”
Tabitha tries not to snort. She always gets so formal around Archie.
Courtney listens for a few moments. Tabitha catches clips of Archie’s voice, friendly and boisterous, but Courtney doesn’t take the bait. “Affirmative. He’s regressed.”
Tabitha rolls his eyes, snatching the phone out of Courtney’s hands. It’s like she’s trying to wake Maxie up. “Give me that.” Then to Archie, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just wanted to check on Max. Is he asleep?”
Tabitha checks over his shoulder. Maxie gives a sleepy mumble, but all it takes is a squeeze to his shoulder to have him settling. Just to be safe, Tabitha pads over to the other side of the room. “Sound asleep.”
“Good…” Archie trails off. For how little a time they’ve known each other, Tabitha can practically see him scratching at his beard. “How long’s he been small?”
Tabitha hesitates. It’s not the most noble thing to do, but would it be so bad if he lied? Try to make everyone look a little better and say they caught Maxie tonight, so one day at the most?
“Just tonight, I think.”
“Good.” The relief is evident in Archie’s voice. “I had a feeling when he stopped answering my messages.”
Try as they might to stick close, their bases are on different ends of Hoenn, and sometimes work pulls them away from one another. Expected, but Tabitha still can’t help riling in Maxie’s defense. Honestly, four days in a row?
“No worries, we’ve got him,” Tabitha says. “Just come back when you can.”
“Will do. Thanks for all you do, Tabs.”
Part of Tabitha rails at the nickname. He loves to help; it’s part of his nature. But he’s helping Archie just as much as he’s helping Maxie, and that makes him as uneasy as it does proud.
“Yep. Have a good night.” Tabitha hangs up, trying to ignore the unpleasant pinch in his chest. He has a guess on its origin, but he’d rather not think about that tonight.
“No, no, go back to sleep, baby,” Courtney murmurs.
“Please get off my back,” Maxie replies. His voice is still thick from the haze of sleep, the cadence of his voice giving away that he’s very much still regressed.
“I’ll get the heating pad,” Tabitha announces. He’d like to get Maxie into a proper bed, but that’s not happening.
And as he does, the latent jealousy fades. Those thoughts can wait until later.
For now, Leader Maxie still needs their help.