Chapter Text
Jon made it to the Institute about two and a half hours early, which he supposed was decent. Since Tim and Sasha made him come home right at five the day before, it meant he didn’t get to make nearly as much progress in the archives as he wanted. So, he slipped out of bed early and made sure to keep quiet so he could get out the door without a question.
Truly, he couldn’t wait for the peace and quiet that an early morning in the archives would offer. None of Tim’s boisterous laughter, none of Sasha’s singing to the radio that all three assistants insisted stay on, and none of…well, he supposed Martin might actually be a source of noise, now that he thought about it. Jon groaned as he smacked his badge against the sensor to be let inside. He almost forgot that Martin was living down there…and Tim had told him to always warn Martin at least a half hour prior to showing up early.
Well, Tim wasn’t here, so it was fine.
Jon descended the stairs two at a time, head hung low as he concentrated on the steps. When he reached the bottom and lifted his head up, he saw into the breakroom, and he nearly bolted back up the stairs.
“Martin!” Jon fussed loudly, too loudly for the time of morning, and Martin nearly jumped out of his skin. “What are you doing?!”
“J-Jon!” Martin managed to squeak out. His whole face went beet red.
“You do remember this isn’t your home, right? You have to wear trousers!” Jon continued to fuss. He hung his head, refusing to match Martin’s impossibly red face with his rapidly heating cheeks. He bolted for his office and tossed his bag down on the floor just to plop into his chair.
A few minutes passed, and Jon sat up in his seat to at least log onto his work computer and check his emails. He wasn’t avoiding leaving his office. No way.
Martin knocked on his door, and Jon heaved a sigh. “Yes, Martin?” he managed out without sounding too angry. Sasha always told him he needed to work on his defensive anger, so he supposed this was a good opportunity to work on it.
“I, um, I brought you a cup of tea…” Martin said shyly as he slipped into the room. Jon was glad to see him fully clothed. “Sorry about all that…I didn’t know you were coming in early, and I really just woke up only a few minutes before you got here, so…yeah.”
Jon took in a deep breath and stilled himself. He didn’t need to get emotional over this, it was just a tiny mistake. You should say you’re sorry, rang out in his head in Tim’s carer voice, and Jon scowled to himself. Even when Tim wasn’t there, he still was re-parenting Jon. That just wasn’t fair.
“Yes, well, please do keep in mind that this is a place of business, not your flat,” Jon said as he took the cup with a thin smile. “Even if no one is here, it’s still indecent to walk around half clothed.”
“Right, sorry…” Martin hung his head, cheeks still pink from the earlier interaction. “I’ll, um, I’ll just let you get back to it, then…”
He made his way out the door, and Jon tossed himself back in his chair. This morning was not going even remotely the way he wanted.
Tim and Sasha made their way down the stairs later. Right on time, actually.
“Morning, guys,” Martin greeted, but it lacked its usual cheeriness.
“Morning!” Sasha hoped her own tone would bring back Martin’s bubbly one.
“How’s our favorite worm-loved buddy doin’?” Tim asked with a snicker as he hung up his jacket on the rack.
“Been better…” Martin said with a sigh. He glanced toward Jon’s door and ripped his eyes from it before his face could ignite. “Jon, uh, came in two hours early this morning, and I was not prepared, so…that was not fun.”
“He didn’t tell you he was coming in?” Tim asked. Sasha shot him a look, but Tim ignored it in favor of getting details from Martin.
“No, he just showed up, like, 10 minutes after I just rolled out of bed. I thought I still had a while before anyone got here, so I wasn’t even dressed for work yet, and…yeah,” Martin said, finishing with his hands clasped together and a pained little noise. “So much fun at 5-something in the morning!”
“Did he at least say sorry…?” Sasha asked. “I mean, showing up unannounced when he knows you might still be asleep…”
Martin shook his head.
“Right…I’ll be right back!” Tim said as he headed toward Jon’s door.
“Tim, no, don’t!” Martin fussed. “You’ll just make things worse, it’s not that big a deal!”
“Relax, Martin, I’m basically the Jon Whisperer.” Tim pushed open the door and gave a wink as he made his way inside.
“Tim,” came Jon’s single-word…not really greeting. He knew why Tim was there, and he really didn’t want to deal with this.
“Heyyyy, remember when we were talking about Martin moving into the archives while wormageddon tried to ruin his life?” Tim started. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped further into the room. “Remember what we agreed on for when you got your weird little urge to get here at some ungodly hour in the morning?”
Jon groaned and leaned back in his seat. “Yes.”
“Oh, good, then what was it?” Tim asked. “What did we agree to?”
“I would text Martin at least a half hour before I got here…” Jon grumbled. He didn’t dare look Tim in the eye. “But I forgot, and I remembered when I was already here,” he said in his defense.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll remember earlier now, yeah?” Tim asked in that tone that always made Jon feel so small.
Jon just rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself from regressing. He couldn’t stand it when Tim used his carer voice outside of Jon’s regression. It always, every single time, brought it seeping into his mind. “Yes.”
“Good!” Tim tossed a hand in the air in his frustration. Jon always did these one-worded responses when he didn’t think he did something wrong. “Martin also said you didn’t say you’re sorry, you know…” he said, a little softer this time.
Color rushed to Jon’s cheeks, and he forced his eyes down to his desk. He knew he should’ve said sorry, but he didn’t, and ohhhhh he could feel his regression trying to take over. Dada was disappointed in him, he could tell, and that was making it so hard to fend off the fuzzy feeling in the back of his head. He forced it down as well as he could. “I meant to…” he said, tracing patterns in the wood of his desk with his finger.
“How come you didn’t then?” Tim asked, that soft tone doing a number on Jon’s mental defenses.
“I was mad…” he said, still never looking up at Tim. “I know it was my fault, but I was mad anyway and I didn’t wanna say sorry…”
“Are you slipping a little, Jon?” Tim asked, then, and Jon hesitated. He nodded, not wanting to get in trouble for lying. He felt like he was in enough trouble as it was. Tim sighed, and he made his way around the side of Jon’s desk to stoop down. “Okay, how about this, then…” he started as he took Jon’s hand in his. “I’m gonna give you some time in here to cool off, pull yourself out of regression, and then when you’re ready you can come out into the office and say sorry, how’s that?”
Jon gave a little nod. “I’ll say sorry…” he mumbled. Tim could see tears welling up in his eyes, and his heart broke a little at the sight. He didn’t mean for this to happen.
“Thank you, baby boy,” Tim said as he got to his feet. He pressed a kiss to Jon’s forehead and made his way to the door. “Just take your time, okay? I don’t want you to rush it and feel even worse.”
Jon nodded and folded himself up in his chair.
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you, Dada…”
Tim stepped out of Jon’s office and shut the door gently behind himself before he leaned against it, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he held. At least Jon didn’t feel so bad about this that he wouldn’t say ‘love you’ back.
“Everything alright…?” Martin asked, jolting Tim back to the present.
“Uh, yeah, it’s all good,” Tim said as he pushed himself off the door. “Jon’s still cooling off from this morning, but he did say he’ll come talk to you later to say he’s sorry.”
“Really?” Martin sounded impressed. If only he knew.
Tim forced a happy grin as he slid into his chair and turned to his computer. Sasha quirked a brow at him, and the grin fell away.
“What happened?” she asked in a whisper, leaning over into Tim’s space.
“He slipped,” Tim whispered back. He folded himself over on his desk and put his head in his arms. “I was just trying to get him to understand why what he did wasn’t cool, and I miiiiight have used the Dada voice too strongly.”
“Tim…” Sasha sighed. “Is he alright in there?”
“Yeah, he’s just trying to be in his feelings for a little bit ‘til he can pull himself out,” Tim said. He shrugged and buried his face in his arms. “I feel bad for making him slip…”
Sasha put a hand on his back and scratched lightly through his shirt, trying to comfort him a bit. “It’s okay, he’ll understand…”
Jon didn’t come out of his office for four hours. Before he even tried to come out, Martin, Sasha, and Tim even made plans for lunch. Sasha had planned to check on Jon before they left, not wanting to leave her baby boy to suffer alone in the office. Besides, they could figure out some sort of excuse so Martin wouldn’t question why Jon was acting weird, she was sure of that.
Luckily, Sasha didn’t have to check on him. Jon stepped quietly out of his office, wincing as the door clicked louder than he wanted. Three sets of eyes went straight to him, and he almost retreated. But, Sasha couldn’t be prouder when Jon set his shoulders and walked over to Martin.
“Hey, Jon…!” Martin managed, a dusting of pink already blooming on his cheeks.
“Martin, I believe an apology is in order for this morning….” Jon started. He glanced at Sasha and Tim for only a second before he tore his gaze away and fixed it to the floor. “I was unfair toward you. You’re living down here, and I cannot expect you to always be ready for any sort of company, even if it’s technically business hours. Next time, I do intend to let you know before I get here if I’m coming in early…”
“Oh, thanks Jon, that’d be good…just a little heads-up so we avoid this again, yeah,” Martin said with a little nod and smile. “Thanks…”
“You said that already…”
“I-I know, sorry, it’s just-”
“Hey, we should get going to lunch, it’s already 5 past!” Tim said, clapping his hands together as he hopped to his feet. “Wanna come with us, Jon?”
“Oh, I probably shouldn’t, I’m in the middle of-”
“Let’s get to lunch!” Tim dipped into his office and grabbed his jacket. Jon sighed and took it. He should have figured waiting this long to say his apology would get him in a different kind of trouble.
Sasha just snickered at his side, and Jon shot her a look of betrayal. “We’re just going to that little café a few blocks down,” she said. “It won’t be that bad, Jon, I promise.”
“Fine…”
“I’ll sit with Jon,” Sasha said as he slid first into the booth. She knew things were a little tense with him and Tim, and Sasha didn’t want to give them an opportunity to fight over something small.
“I see how it is, you’re leaving it open for me to be able to play footsie,” Tim said with a snicker. Sasha sighed – she didn’t think of that. Shit.
“If you try to play footsie, I will climb across this table and kick you,” Jon deadpanned. Sasha was almost certain Martin would explode – with laughter or concern, she couldn’t quite tell.
“Take all the fun out of it, I see!” Tim pouted. He leaned down in the booth seat, and if the thump under the table and his wince were anything to go by…Jon stomped on his foot.
“Could you two behave for, like, a half hour?” Sasha asked. “Just a half hour! For the first time ever!”
“I don’t think it’s possible, Sash,” Tim said. The table rocked a bit, and then Jon yanked his feet up into the seat.
Sasha just groaned and dropped her head into her hands. Her boys were exhausting.
“I think I feel sorry for you,” Martin said with a laugh. “It seems like you’re way too used to this.”
“They were like this when I got them,” Sasha said. She sounded so tired. “I transferred to Research expecting a calmer, easier time. I didn’t think I was gaining two dorks who fight with each other to show they care.”
“Maybe he does that, but I fight with him because he’s annoying,” Jon said, kicking under the table again. The waitress chose then to drop off their food, and Tim’s sandwich nearly ended up in his lap.
“Hey!” he fussed with one last pointed kick. “You little shit.”
“You started this,” Jon said, and he picked up one half of his sandwich.
Martin just snickered and shook his head, giving Sasha a look of pity. “How’d you end up with these two as friends?” he asked. Somehow, even after working together for several months, he’d never asked. He knew Jon specifically requested Sasha and Tim, and he knew the three of them were friends, but he didn’t know…how. Up until this point, Martin hadn’t thought of Jon as anything but professional and stiff. Now…well, he seemed a bit childish.
“That was mostly Tim,” Sasha said. She stabbed a bite of her salad and hummed to herself, watching her boys fondly while they squabbled over proper ketchup placement. “He came over to my desk on day two to introduce himself, and our boss took that as a sign that I should join his and Jon’s little team. Then it didn’t take long for us to all three just be friends, and within months I might as well have gotten “if lost, return to Sasha James” shirts for the two of them.”
“Didn’t you actually order those?” Jon asked, and Martin nearly choked.
“They’re probably buried in the bottom of the closet or something if I did,” Sasha said. Martin couldn’t help laughing at that.
“What about…” Martin had to cough before he could speak; he was sure his face was red. “What about you and Tim, then, Jon?”
Jon just rolled his eyes and dropped his sandwich into the basket. “Our boss assigned him to work with me to keep me from causing problems,” he said. “Apparently my methods were “dangerous” and “illegal” and they thought Tim would calm me down.”
“They were very wrong,” Tim said almost proudly. Martin snickered. “No, yeah, it was great, on my first day there they introduced me to Jon and were like “okay, now just shadow Jon and we’ll take it from there” and they left me with him. I saw this guy that was, what, half a head shorter than me and looked as clean-cut as they come and I thought this was going to be so easy!”
Tim sat up straighter in his seat and stuffed a fry in his mouth before continuing. “So, the first case we were on was some fishery, I think it was oooo-spooky-cannibal-fish or something, and I thought this would be easy. We go, we look at the fish, we talk to a few people, we leave.”
“It wasn’t that easy?” Martin asked, amused grin on his face.
“No, it’s never that easy, I learned that very quickly,” Tim said with a laugh. “We get there- place is abandoned. Not a soul around, not a fish in sight, so I thought we were going to head back to the Institute…nope. Jon over there, the little shit, decided that if there was no one to let us in, he was just going to climb the fence and get in that way.”
“Noooooooo!” Martin had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter.
“Yeah, so then he’s standing there just waiting for me to do it, too, and I tell him he’s insane and I’m not gonna do it.”
“You still did it,” Jon said with a snicker. “You fussed and fussed, but you still climbed over.”
“And then we found out we weren’t as alone as we thought. And we had to climb over again, but faster,” Tim finished.
“Oh my god…” Martin was properly dying of laughter, doubled over on the table with the image of Jon and Tim trying to climb a fence to get away from someone seared into his mind.
“Then after that I basically went with him all the time because I was terrified that he was gonna get himself killed.”
Jon huffed a laugh and took a sip of his drink. “But, it didn’t take long for you to abandon that train of thought and just start doing the stupid shit before I even suggested it.”
“I was numb,” Tim deadpanned. “I was numb until we got Sasha.”
“Now you understand what I got when I transferred,” Sasha said through her own giggles.
“I’m even more sorry for you, now,” Martin said.
Jon shoved his basket toward Tim, then, and declared he didn’t want anymore of his food.
“You barely ate anything,” Tim said. He shoved the basket back under Jon’s nose. “Try to eat that whole half, c’mon.”
“I don’t want it,” Jon said, and he pushed the basket away. Tim pushed it back. “Tim.”
“It’s, what, four more bites?” Tim asked, holding up the piece of sandwich. “You can eat that, Jon.”
“Nope.” Jon swatted Tim’s hand away, and he leaned as far back as he could in the booth. “You can have it.”
“I don’t want it; I’ve got my own food,” Tim said. He dropped the sandwich in the basket and pushed it toward Jon again. “It’s just four bites. You don’t have to eat the other half, just finish that one.”
“No.”
“Jon…”
Sasha heard that warning tone, and she had to leap in. If nothing else, she needed to intervene before those two made Martin suspicious, but mostly she needed to prevent another accidental slip.
“Okay, okay, no more sandwich?” Sasha asked. Jon just nodded and crossed his arms, giving Tim a smug grin. “Then eat a few chips,” she said, moving the sandwich to a napkin to reveal the bed of fries. “It’s a compromise, and you like chips.”
“Fine…” Jon said through his teeth. It was Tim’s turn to give him a smug look, and Jon had half a mind to grab the ketchup and aim.
Sasha chanced a glance at Martin, and he looked…concerned. She supposed that made sense, after all, it wasn’t normal for friends to fight over how much someone ate. “Tim’s always worried about something with him,” she said. It was technically true, but definitely not the whole truth.
“I guess that makes sense…?” Martin said. He decided to focus on his own lunch, much to Sasha’s relief.
“I’m done,” Jon said through a couple fries. “No more, nope.” With a slash over his throat and a napkin in hand, he officially declared he would not eat another morsel. Not another, singular bite of anything.
Tim peaked into the basket, and he seemed at least satisfied. Sasha was glad he didn’t fuss anymore.
“Who wants ice cream?” Tim asked, and Sasha rolled her eyes. Of course he couldn’t resist rewarding Jon.
“I want some,” she said with a snicker.
“Sure!” Martin said.
“I do,” Jon said, and then he put his head down.
“Cool, you two want your usuals?” Tim asked, and Sasha and Jon nodded. “Then let’s go, Marto!”
Martin and Tim went back to the front to order the treats, so Sasha took the moment of peace to check on Jon. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” she asked, running a hand through Jon’s hair. The messy mop on top of his head was getting shaggy, and she needed to cut it, but she loved having enough of it to run her fingers through.
“Teetering…” Jon said into his elbow. “It’s hard not to ‘gress right now…” He shut his eyes and swung his legs under the table.
“Have you been teetering all day?” she asked. Jon nodded. “Oh, sweetheart…”
“Tim made me ax’dently ‘gress and I tried to get out, but it’s hard…” he mumbled. “Wanna go home…”
Sasha sighed and tugged him upright, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. “Tim felt really bad about that, too, sweetie…” she said. “He woke up without you there this morning, and I think that made him go to his carer space. He really, really wants his baby, he’s having a hard time with it.”
“Oopsie…” Jon said quietly.
“It’s not your fault, sweetie, I’m just explaining,” Sasha said. She laced their fingers together and placed a kiss in Jon’s hair. “You just have a few more hours before we can go home, and then you can regress and be our sweet baby all evening.”
“Wanna do that, Mama…”
“I know, baby…”
She knew she needed to pull Jon back a bit, not push him farther into his regression, but her baby was so tired, and he wanted attention…it was so hard.
“Alright, we’ve got ice cream!” Tim announced as they came back to the table. He froze when he saw Jon, eyes wide as he realized. “Oh this’ll be so much fun…” he whispered under his breath sarcastically.
“You okay, Jon?” Martin asked as he slid in beside Tim.
“He’s getting a headache,” Sasha said. She nudged him off her shoulder, heart breaking at the whimper he gave her. “Tim got you ice cream, Jon, see?” She pulled the bowl closer, and that seemed to do the trick to perk him up. Now, they just had to hope he didn’t make a huge mess.
“Bet a fiver that Jon wears half that on the way back to work,” Tim said, pointing his spoon at Jon.
“I will not,” Jon huffed. “I’m not messy like you.”
“Yeah, I can’t see him getting anything on him…” Martin said with a snicker. “Maybe you’re projecting, Tim.”
“What!”
Sasha had to laugh at that. Tim had tried to pull Jon out of his regression enough to help him stay clean, she knew that, but it was far funnier to believe what Martin did.
They ate their ice cream in relative peace, thankfully, and Jon didn’t get a bit of it on himself. So, they had to leave and get back to work. Sasha and Martin got up to let Jon and Tim out, and they pulled on their jackets. Tim pulled on his, and then he took Jon’s from him to help him into it.
“Tim?” Martin questioned.
“What?” He even did up the zipper before he realized how this looked.
Jon jammed his index finger between his teeth to chew. Tim wanted to yank it down and just hold Jon’s hand, but that would doom them.
Jon crashed in his office when they got back, fully intent to stay put and not let himself slip again. He had work to do, and only three hours to do it before Sasha and Tim would drag him home. Of course, he wanted to go home. He didn’t want to work, not when that fuzzy feeling in the back of his head kept pushing him and kept making all the words on the papers run together incomprehensibly. All Jon wanted was to regress and get a hug from his Dada and know that they were okay.
He wasn’t even mad at his Dada anymore. He wasn’t! He was mad that Dada fussed at him when he didn’t think he was wrong, but he knew he was wrong and he knew he needed to do better, and he just wanted to tell Dada all about it and hear that it was okay.
Since time wouldn’t move any faster, Jon fought to pull himself together. He took out the tape recorder and a real statement, and he made busy recording it.
Five o’clock rolled around finally, and in burst Tim into the room. “Jon, it’s five!” he shouted. “Time to gooooooo!”
Normally Jon would fuss at him and argue that he would stay a little longer, but really Jon couldn’t stand the thought of being at work any longer. Instead, he let himself regress, and he matched his Dada’s happy grin with one of his own.
“Wanna go home!” he said with a giggle.
“Well, you have to stand up and come over here, then!” Dada said, pointing down at the spot right in front of him. Jon didn’t waste a second scrambling to his feet and grabbing his bag to get to that spot. “Okay, let’s get your jacket on, yeah?” Dada said, and he helped Jon into his jacket once again. “Comfy?”
“Mhm!”
“Then let’s go find Mama and get outta here!”
Dada took his hand (it took every bit of willpower for Jon not to squeal) and marched him out of his office to find Mama.
“Ready to go, Sash?” Dada asked, and Mama whipped around in her seat with a grin.
“Of course!” Mama said. She got up and grabbed her jacket, and then she slung her bag over her shoulder. “All set?”
“Home!” Jon squeaked out, jumping in place. Mama snickered and pinched his chin lightly.
“We’re going, we’re going!” she said. “Lead the way, bug!”
Jon giggled and took her hand with his free one, intending to pull his carers all the way out the building.
“You guys leaving?” Martin asked from the breakroom, and Jon squeaked. He forgot about Martin.
“Yeah, we’re making Jon go home before his migraine gets worse,” Dada said. He was lucky Jon froze when he heard Martin; he wasn’t sure how convincing the ‘migraine’ line would’ve been with Jon pulling him and Mama toward the stairs.
“Well, have a good night!” Martin chirped.
“You, too!” Mama said sweetly.
“Bye, Mah’n!” Jon squeaked out, and he hid behind Dada.
“Oh- uh- bye?”
“He gets a little weird with a migraine,” Dada said with a nervous laugh. They were up the stairs before Martin could ask any more questions.
Of course, Jon didn’t pay any attention to how close that came to being an awkward conversation, and he just hopped excitedly out the door. “Home, home, home, home, home, home!” he sang to himself, and Mama and Dada just snickered.
“I think he wants to get home, what do you think, Mama?”
“Hmmm…maybe just a little bit.”
“Home!”