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Ness loved his boyfriend. He really truly did. Everything about Mike was absolutely captivating, from the way his hair curled to the way he always toed his shoes off in a right-then-left pattern. As they grew closer, Ness grew to adore every aspect of Mike. The tired big brother. The grumpy security guard. The overstimulated asshole. The inner child.
The inner child was the newest, admitted between hiccuping breaths and tears after one too many prodding questions caused Mike to explode from overstimulation, huddling in the bathtub for safety and allowing Ness in after nearly half an hour of him crouching outside the bathroom door, painfully just listening to Mike scream his way through a panic attack.
Between those soft breaths, Mike told Ness about the regression bouts, the involuntary slips down into a smaller, younger brain. Nine years old, just before he lost Garrett. His therapist encouraged him through the regression, saying it was his way of healing, but Mike hated it. Hated not being in control, hated not being able to take care of Abby. She didn’t know, and if it were up to Mike, she would never know.
And she still didn’t know. Ness sighed happily, watching the snow fall softly out the diner window. He had dinner with the Schmidts, something small and cozy to celebrate Abby’s last day of school before winter break, and he was a few hours away from clocking out. Hopefully the roads would still be agreeable. He hadn’t seen Mike in a few days and it was driving him insane.
The phone rang cheerily, and Ness picked it up, cradling the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he continued to stack mugs. “Sparky‘s Diner, how can I help you?”
“Hello?” A frantic voice said. “Shit, hey, is there a guy named Ness there?”
“You’re speaking to him,” Ness said, suddenly worried. “Why?”
The person sighed heavily. “You gotta get here right the hell now, Ness. I’m Sarah, one of Mike’s coworkers. He just kinda bolted, locked himself in a closet twenty minutes ago screaming and crying. You’re his emergency contact, and you have to come get him right now.”
It was like time stopped. Ness froze, his own coworker, Ciera, staring at him. “Yo,” she said, snapping him from his funk. “Ness? You good?”
“I’ll be right there,” Ness said firmly, slamming the phone down and rushing to the back room for his coat. “Ciera, you gotta let me go! It’s Mike! He’s having a-“
“Fuck’s sake Ness, I don’t need an essay, just go,” Ciera said with a smile. “Diner’s dead anyway. Go help Mike.”
Smiling at her and rushing out a promise about making it up to her, Ness grabbed his keys and started his car, grumbling in the cold and yet not really complaining as he drove to the fitness center Mike worked at. It was a nondescript building, Mike’s shitty car parked out front, Ness running past it and skidding into the building.
“Where is he?” He shouted at a woman with unruly red curls and a name tag reading ‘Sarah.’ “Where‘s Mike?”
“You got here fast,” Sarah said, jogging down the hall, where another employee was standing outside of a closet door, Ness’s heart shattering as he heard Mike’s panicked, scrambled crying on the other side. “I have no idea what triggered it, before you ask.”
“Just go,” Ness said, putting a hand on the doorknob and cursing as it jiggled but didn’t pop. “I’ve got him. The less people to see him like this, the better.”
Sarah nodded. “Thanks for getting here as fast as you did,” she said, smiling before walking away with the other coworker.
“Mike,” Ness said, knocking on the door. “Mike, it’s me. It’s Ness. Can you open the door?”
Mike whined, and Ness winced. “I know,” he said. “I know it’s a lot right now. But I can help you, Mikey. You just have to open the door, then I can make it all better. You know me, Mikey. I’m not a stranger, and I’m not going to make fun of you. It’s me, it’s Ness.”
There was a pause, and then the door clicked. It took all of Ness’s restraint to not throw the door open, instead going slowly and calmly, an involuntary coo escaping his throat as he saw Mike curled up on the floor, face ruddy with tears, hands clawing at his jacket sleeves. His eyes were wide, a far-away, glassy expression that made Ness shut the door and get down on his knees, putting on a soft smile. “Hey Mikey-Moo,” he said quietly, carefully setting a hand on one of Mike’s knees. “You’re not doing too good, huh?”
Mike cried out, curling his legs away. Okay, no physical contact yet. That was okay. Ness sat back on his legs, assessing the situation. He couldn’t press this, couldn’t rush Mike’s meltdown. It had to just progress.
“You wanna hold my sleeve?” Ness asked, holding out the empty sleeve of his own jacket. “That way it’s like you’re holding Bubba’s hand without actually touching me.”
Slowly, and with harshly shaking fingers, Mike grabbed the offered sleeve, pressing it to his face and inhaling unsteadily. But he was filling his lungs, teetering off the edge of hyperventilation. It was a step forward.
“That’s it,” Ness murmured. “That’s it, Moo. You’re doing great bud, I’m so proud of you.”
Mike whined, shaking his head and burying his face in his arms.
“You’re not?” Ness said. “What’s up, Mikey? Maybe I can help you.”
“No.”
Okay, that was a word. That was good, wasn’t it? Mike was progressing. Ness scooted closer to him, never quite touching. “No?” He questioned lightly. “What d’you mean no?”
“No.”
Well, one word was better than no words at all, right? Ness sighed. “I’m gonna go find some water, okay?” He said. “I’ll leave you with my jacket, but-“
“No!” Mike’s hand shot out, grabbing Ness’s wrist in an iron grip, and in doing so, he uncurled a bit, finally giving Ness an idea as to why he was melting down so severely.
“Oh.” Ness carefully rearranged his hand so he was holding Mike’s hand instead of being held captive. “Mikey-Moo, did you have an accident?”
Mike went red, eyes widening, and without warning, he burst right back into tears, ruining Ness’s hasty progress. “Fuck,” Ness hissed, backpedaling instantly. “Hey, no, no, it’s okay. Mikey, I didn’t mean it like that baby. You’ll just get super sick if you stay in those dirty clothes for too long.” It wasn’t much help, especially considering how far gone Mike was, but Ness just kept holding his hand and murmuring reassurances until Mike cried himself dry a second time, sniffling and looking at his knees in silence.
“Hey, Moo,” Ness said softly, garnering Mike’s attention. “We have to go home soon, okay? You’re all dirty and we have to get you clean again.”
Mike stuttered out a whine, and Ness shushed him gently. “It’ll be okay,” he promised. “C’mon bud, when has Bubba ever let you down?”
Chewing on his lip, Mike slowly unfolded his legs, showing Ness the damp stain across the front of his jeans. Ness just smiled kindly, grabbing a towel from a shelf above their heads. “I’ll wrap you in this to keep you warm,” he said, helping Mike up a bit. “Then we can walk to my car and get you home. Okay?”
Mike blinked a few times, staring up at Ness and hesitantly holding his hands out. Ness chuckled, happily lifting Mike onto his hip. Mike squeaked, gripping Ness’s neck and burying his face into his shoulder. “Comfy cozy?” Ness asked, and Mike nodded. “Good. Let’s get my little Moo home now.”
They ended up walking past Mike’s coworkers, who were both standing at the front desk. “He’s got the rest of his sister’s winter break off, so no need to worry about him having to come back any time soon. Call us if he’s sick though, okay? Just so that we know and can monitor everyone else accordingly.”
“Will do,” Ness said, hiking Mike higher up on his hip and smiling when he grumbled unhappily. “I know, Mikey. I know. Gosh, you feel warm.” And he was oddly warm, radiating heat like a furnace in the cold of the winter’s day. He gasped softly, wide eyes staring at the softly falling snow as Ness buckled him into the car. “Yeah, it’s snowing, Moo. It’s really pretty, huh?” He adjusted the towel around Mike’s body and kissed his forehead. “Let’s get you all cozied up at home now, huh?”
The drive home was almost unreal, Mike dozing sleepily against the window, occasionally babbling about the snow while Ness drove and listened to the humming holiday music coming from the radio. Mike was in a seemingly nonverbal state, which was perfectly okay, Ness didn’t care either way, but it was concerning how red Mike’s face still was, the way his hairline beaded with sweat and he kept sniffling. Plus there was the issue of the accident. Mike didn’t have poor bladder control, regressed or not, so what the hell just happened?
“Focus,” Ness mumbled to himself, gripping the steering wheel. “One problem at a time, Nestor. One problem at a time.”
The first problem was getting Mike clean and getting Abby to a house that wasn’t hers for the night. Once he had ushered Mike into his house, locking the door behind him and helping Mike take his shoes off, he took Mike’s hands, pulling him from his thick winter coat. “Alright Mikey-Moo,” Ness said with false cheeriness. “C’mon, bath time.”
Mike was compliant as Ness pulled him into the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet lid and turning the bathtub on, watching hot water pour out and testing the temperature with his hand as he adjusted the knobs. “Alright Moo,” he said, kissing Mike’s forehead and smiling. “I am going to go make a gross grown up call. You just stay right here. Don’t move, okay?”
Rushing from the bathroom, Ness dialed the phone as fast as possible, foot tapping impatiently as he listened to the ringing on the other end until…
“Hello?”
“Vanessa!” Ness had never been happier to hear her voice in his life. “Hey. I need you to take Abby tonight. I’m sorry it’s such short notice.”
“Why, what’s wrong with Mike?” While she wasn’t quite in on the whole regression thing, Vanessa still knew and was appropriately concerned.
Ness sighed. “He’s sick,” he said. “And had an accident at work. Complete screaming, crying meltdown, the works. He’s home now, and I’m gonna get him into the bath, but I need you to take Abby so she doesn’t get sick too.”
Vanessa cooed. “Of course,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to have some girl’s time with her. Just call me once it’s okay to bring her back. You know how she worries. And give Mike some love from me, okay? Poor thing.”
Ness nodded, smiling. “Will do. I’ll call, okay?”
“Alright.”
Hanging up, Ness ducked back into the bathroom, glad to see Mike just sitting there still, absently staring at a rubber duck.
“Hey Moo,” Ness said, grabbing Mike’s attention. “Alright bud, let’s get you all clean again.” He urged Mike up, pulling him out of his hoodie and shirt, tossing them into a pile on the floor to be washed. Blessedly, when regressed, Mike wasn’t too uncomfortable with casual nudity, so Ness had no problem helping him out of the rest of his clothes, wincing at the rash already blooming across Mike’s thighs. Mike fussed a bit, but Ness just helped him into the tub and handed him a few bath crayons, smiling as Mike began to scribble on the tile while Ness scooped up the clothes and began to start the laundry.
Of course, as he did the laundry, he began to set things out for Mike in his room, mostly just his current regression items. A faded kid’s blanket, a well-loved stuffed cow named Tizzy, and a set of fuzzy socks. That was it, all Mike had ever allowed. And yet, Ness had more, bought it on the internet in the hopes that maybe one day Mike would be agreeable enough to entertain the idea of the soft onesie with little stars and moons, the sippy cup printed with barnyard animals, the small box of adult-sized pull ups, and Ness’s favorite, a forest green adult pacifier with a little cow charm on the button and letter beads on the handle that spelled out his favorite nickname for Mike.
Along with the items, Ness set down a few towels across the bed, setting up a bottle of lotion on the nightstand and scrounging around for some kind of something he could put on the developing rash. Eventually coming up with a tub of Vaseline, Ness sighed. It would have to do unless he could find some aloe in the bathroom.
Speaking of the bathroom, Ness poked his head back in, smiling at the sight of Mike sitting there, watching his rubber duck bob on the surface of the water. The tile was covered in drawings, and Ness chuckled. “How’s my little artist doing in here?” He asked, and Mike babbled sleepily. He was still nonverbal, but that was expected after the day he’d had. “Really?” Ness said, crouching beside the tub. “That’s good. C’mon, turn around so Bubba can wash your hair.”
Mike turned dutifully, his back to Ness as Ness grabbed the green plastic cup and began to carefully soak Mike’s hair, scrubbing a sharp, peppermint-y shampoo through the water-darkened curls. Mike burbled happily, melting under Ness’s caregiving.
“I bet that feels good, hm?” Ness murmured. “Yeah, I bet. Letting Bubba take care of you like this. My precious little Moo.” He rinsed the bubbles from Mike’s hair, pressing raspberry kisses to his warm cheeks and reveling in the sleepy giggles he got. “Almost done bud, then we can get all cozied up on the couch.” He doubted Mike would want to play in his current state, especially when Mike began to yawn, sleepily splashing in the water.
Ness was careful about washing Mike’s body, cautious of the rash, and he drained the tub shortly after, wrapping Mike in a towel and patting him dry as best he could. “Alright Mikey-Moo, let’s get dressed,” he said, lifting Mike up again. Mike didn’t protest being carried to his room, instead cuddling up to Ness’s body and yawning again. And he was still furnace hot, Ness laying him on the bed and resting a hand on his forehead in concern. “Actually,” he mumbled, grabbing Mike’s first aid box from under his bed. Quickly locating the thermometer, Ness wiped it down with the hem of his shirt before holding it out to Mike.
Two minutes later, Ness was worriedly staring at the thermometer, which read a tentative 101 fever.
Fuck.
“Okay bud,” Ness said, turning back to where Mike was still just laying on the bed, naked aside from the towel around his waist. “Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do.” The fever explained a lot, especially if it meant Mike was decently sick on top of everything. The accident, the slipping, the fact that Mike was acting much younger than usual. Ness tried his best not to get mildly excited about it, but if he had to guess, Mike was in a tiny little toddler mindset, and even though he was sick, having a Mike that wouldn’t protest being babied made Ness incredibly giddy. However, he tamped that down in favor of grabbing a pull-up. “I’m gonna put this on you, Moo. I know it’s weird, but I don’t want you yo have another accident, okay?”
Mike’s brow furrowed, his head tipped, and Ness braced for the furious meltdown at a new step in their bath time routine, especially a step that basically infantilized poor Mike.
Instead, Mike just grabbed blindly for Tizzy and yawned.
“Okay then,” Ness said softly, grabbing the small tube of diaper cream he had gotten ages ago, before actually meeting Mini Mike. “Bubba’s just gonna put some of this on you, and it’ll help your legs feel better.” The rash was overly warm to the touch, even on Mike’s feverish skin, and Ness quickly slid him into the pull-up, trying not to think too heavily on it as Mike crinkled his nose. “I know it feels funny, but you’ll get used to it,” Ness promised, grabbing the onesie next. “Pyjama time.”
Mike was equally compliant for the onesie as he had been for the pull-up, listening to Ness hum and occasionally babbling softly, wiggling as Ness buttoned the snaps closed.
“You’re so cute,” Ness cooed, slipping Mike’s socks on. “Look at you, Mikey-Moo. Such a cute baby.”
Mike whined in protest, but Ness just shushed him, rubbing the Vaseline into his rash and pressing gentle kisses against his stomach. “You’re okay,” he promised softly. “You’re okay, Mikey. I’ve got you. Bubba’s got you.”
Babbling, Mike reached out, watching Ness with a glassy expression. “Daddy,” he bubbled out, and Ness froze in his tracks.
“What was that, Moo?” Ness whispered, twirling a few damp cowlicks of Mike’s hair around his fingers. “What did you just call me?”
“Daddy,” Mike repeated, still in that sweet toddler lisp. “Moo-Moo.”
“Yeah, that’s you!” Ness said eagerly. “You’re my Mikey-Moo!” He helped Mike sit up, sighing as Mike began to fuss. “I know you hurt, Moo. You’re sick, buddy.” Quickly shimmying a pair of loose, thin pyjama pants onto Mike so he wouldn’t get too cold, Ness scooped Mike up, carrying him to the living room and settling them both on the couch. Mike refused to let him go, so Ness was left with an armful of squirmy toddler as he sat down. Tizzy plopped out of Mike’s hand as his eyes slipped closed, Ness smiling fondly as he wiggled out from underneath Mike, tucking Tizzy back into his arms and kissing his forehead before heading to the kitchen. He needed to get some kind of something into Mike’s body, just something to help him with the pain and fever, especially with how warm he was.
Humming to himself as he stirred a pot of milk on the stove, Ness eyeballed his measurements, adding a generous dollop of honey and stirring it, sticking his finger into the milk and deciding it was a decent temperature. He sighed, digging through the medicine cabinet and happily coming up with a bottle of Tylenol, crushing up two of the pills with a spoon and stirring them into the milk, hoping the heat wouldn’t kill the effect of the pills as he poured the milk into the sippy cup, admiring the barnyard pattern for a second before he trailed back to the couch.
“Moo,” Ness said softly, waking Mike up. “Moo. Wake up.”
Mike woke up exactly as expected, with a grumbling little mumble and a wide yawn. He often slept better in his regressed state, but right now, he needed medication.
“Look what I’ve got,” Ness said, sitting beside Mike and chuckling as Mike flopped to the side, resting his head on Ness’s shoulder. Mike sleepily eyed the milk. “It’ll help you get some rest, okay? Plus, it’ll fill this sweet little tummy of yours.” He poked Mike’s stomach a few times, eliciting soft, sleepy giggles. “There we go. C’mere Moo.”
Happily and easily, Mike crawled into Ness’s lap, resting his head against Ness’s shoulder. Ness smiled, kissing Mike’s forehead and gently murmuring, guiding the nipple of the sippy cup to Mike’s mouth. Mike’s face scrunched for a second, almost confused, until he realized there was milk there and he was drinking it. Instantly, Mike burbled around the sippy cup, going boneless and quiet, hands loosely cupping around Ness’s, drinking happily.
“That’s it,” Ness said softly, watching the line of milk sink slowly. “That’s it, Mikey-Moo.” He carefully adjusted his free hand, rubbing Mike’s stomach with gentle care, just in case Mike was nauseous. Although the milk continued to disappear at a steady pace, so he hoped Mike’s stomach wasn’t too upset.
Eventually, there was only a slosh of milk left, and Mike spit the sippy cup out, fussing lightly. Ness nodded, murmuring as he helped Mike up, grabbing a nearby kitchen towel and wiping Mike’s face, rubbing his back and chuckling when Mike babbled something that almost sounded like words. Suddenly, he stopped, paused, and then began to sniffle.
“What’s up Moo?” Ness said, moving Mike and immediately getting a sense of what was wrong. Mike had spit up all over Tizzy, her black and white fur matted with barely digested milk. “Aww, sweetheart, Tizzy’s all dirty.”
“Daddy,” Mike whined, eyes filling quickly with tears. “Tizzy.”
“We can fix this,” Ness promised before Mike had a full meltdown. “Shh, we can fix this, Mikey. All we have to do is give her a little wash.” He stood, Mike following with a sniffle as Ness headed to the washing machine, tossing Tizzy in along with Mike’s dirty clothes. The machine gave a happy ding as it began, and Mike watched the machine with wide eyes, plopping down on the floor and watching the clothes and Tizzy spin through the plastic window.
Ness chuckled, sighing and grabbing a blanket, tucking it over Mike’s shoulders. “You just gonna watch Tizzy have her bath?”
Mike sleepily nodded, yawning and absently sticking his fingertips into his mouth.
“Oh, buddy,” Ness said quickly. “No, no, let’s not do that.” He pulled the pacifier from his pocket, handing it to Mike. “Try this, buddy. It’s much cleaner.”
Mike didn’t even hesitate, he just popped the pacifier into his mouth, going back to watching Tizzy spin and spin. At least he was entertained. Ness had no idea how to go about a Tiny Mike meltdown.
Of course, this was no cakewalk either. Mike refused to move, and given how sick he was, he needed to be resting, and yet he wouldn’t budge, perking up as Ness switched the laundry and then going right back to his dazed staring as Tizzy began to dry. In any other context, Mike’s actions were adorable, but this was concerning Ness. Sighing, he just went back to the couch, flipping through a nearby book before giving up and just waiting until he heard the dryer cheerfully beep.
“Okay bud,” Ness said with a yawn, standing and chuckling as he walked in on Mike’s blanket discarded on the floor, his hands scrambling uselessly at the child-locked dryer door. “Hey, why don’t you let me take care of that?” He opened the dryer, Mike sleepily rummaging through the small pile of clothes until he unearthed Tizzy, cooing behind his pacifier and sitting back on his haunches, rubbing her newly washed fur against his face.
Ness smiled, helping Mike up and carefully lifting him into his arms. Mike yawned, his pacifier falling from his lips and settling between their bodies. Sitting them both down on the couch, Ness chuckled. “Someone’s sleepy,” he said, unearthing the lost pacifier. Mike pouted and parted his lips, silently begging. And Ness, never one to deny Mike his comforts, returned the pacifier.
Thankfully, Mike settled in for a nap right after that, falling asleep nearly instantly in Ness’s arms. Ness didn’t complain, just wrapped Mike closer in his blanket, kissed his forehead, and let him sleep. Lord knew he needed the rest.
Of course, for Mike, most rest was not long, nor was it very fitful. After only an hour, Mike began to whine, twitching and trembling in his sleep. Ness sighed, brushing hair off Mike’s forehead as he slept. Mike’s stomach growled loudly, and Ness barely managed to get Mike upright and off the couch, Tizzy pulled from his grip before Mike woke up and screamed, vomit dribbling off his lips.
Instantly, Ness was there, comforting and cooing quietly, rubbing Mike’s back as he threw up again, his loud cries breaking Ness’s heart as he just kept gagging, finally sitting back with a racing chest and heaving cries, collapsing into Ness’s arms.
“Daddy!” He sobbed, grabbing Ness with an iron grip. “Daddy!”
“I know, Mikey,” Ness soothed softly. “I know you feel bad. Daddy’s doing his best, I promise. Daddy doesn’t like seeing his little Moo all upset like this. If Daddy could make it any better, he would, I promise, Moo. I love you. You’re being so brave for me.”
Mike heaved again, and Ness scooped him up, carrying him to the bathroom with a deep sigh. His baby was suffering, begging him to make it better, and he couldn’t do anything. It was one of the worst feelings, that helplessness, burning through him as he stripped Mike out of his dirty clothes and wiped him down with a damp washcloth, and by the time Mike was clean, he had stopped crying so violently, gumming sadly on his fingers and whining as Ness changed his pull-up and got him dressed in new clothes, a soft black and white onesie this time, patterned with cow spots and lined in gentle baby blue. Ness wiggled Mike into navy blue sweatpants and his usual grey hoodie, finally smiling as Mike cooed and giggled, yawning. “Alright Moo, I think this time, we should get more than an hour of nap time in, yeah?”
Mike babbled happily as Ness scooped him up. He had gauged Mike’s fever as he had changed Mike and while it hadn’t risen, it hadn’t gotten any lower either. Although maybe the nap would help. Mike needed the rest. They fell onto the couch together, Mike happily taking his pacifier up again and snuggling as close to Ness as he could get.
“Okay, someone’s clingy,” Ness teased, grabbing the TV remote and scrolling through the channels. “Wanna watch a movie, Mikey-Moo? Let’s see what’s on.”
Nothing good was on, although Ness found a few holiday movies playing on a nondescript channel. “Polar Express,” he said. “How’s that sound?”
Mike burbled softly, eyes already half closed as he mashed Tizzy closer to his body and wiggled against Ness.
“Sounds good,” Ness agreed, clicking on it and watching the opening credits roll.
As expected, Mike was asleep within minutes, and Ness knew that before they went to bed for real, he would have to coax some broth or something into his stomach, but for now, he just smoothed a hand through Mike’s hair and watched the movie.
And as the snow fell outside, the movie playing in the background, Ness fell asleep too, comforted in the knowledge that he would always be there for his baby.