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Tubbo loved Phil and Kristin’s house, officially. Since that first venture, and all of the revelations that had come with it, it had become one of his safe havens. He could regress there freely and comfortably, and though he still got shy and nervous about it sometimes the initial shame and fear had dwindled quite a bit. He even had Things in their storage with Tom’s stuff now, blankies and puzzle toys and so many coloring books. So yeah, Tubbo loved Phil and Kristin’s so much.
And he hated leaving almost as much.
After a while, a pattern began to emerge of Tubbo being down and a bit fussy on the last full day of a visit. It was like having to go back to school from a vacation that didn’t last nearly long enough. Even the visits where he didn’t regress at all, he would become agitated toward the end when he realized he’d have to go back to his own house soon. Kristin had been the first one to notice, and he worked with her to mitigate it so it didn’t weigh on him so heavily. He was doing well, he thought, managing it in much better ways than before. But there’s something to be said about repressed trauma; and that’s that when one thing gets dredged up, it pulls a lot of other things out with it.
This had been a good visit, fun and carefree and happy, until his mum had randomly called him two days before it was supposed to be over.
(Why did she call him? She never calls him. She just texts or gets his Pop to call him. Mum doesn’t call. Mum doesn’t care. Why did she call?)
She told him that he’d left the extension a mess and that he needed to take better care of things instead of leaving it all to her. For several long minutes of her firmly berating him and him muttering back quiet apologies, she ragged on him for being irresponsible, unfocused, and burdensome.
“I do so much for you, Toby,” she sighed wearily, and despite himself his stomach twinged with guilt. “Can’t you just help me out a little?”
“Sorry mum,” he’d muttered back, ignoring the sting in his eyes. “I’ll be better, I promise.”
Another heavy sigh echoed over the line and he had to restrain himself from flinching. “You can’t keep going off on these silly little trips if you’re not going to be responsible for your space,” she warned, threatened, and his mouth twisted up in a shameful grimace.
“Yes mum,” he mumbled quietly, “sorry.”
They’d ended the call without an “I love you” or any well-wishes, just another expression of disappointment and the beep of a call ending. Tubbo could only be thankful that she’d called in the late afternoon, because he spent the rest of the day quiet and withdrawn. Even Kristin could get barely more than a wry smile and a “maybe later” out of him, and Ranboo wouldn’t stop hovering.
Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him when he woke up the next morning deeply regressed, but the disorientation of waking up sad and alone instantly had him crying pitifully in his pillow.
“Tubbo…?” Ranboo mumbled blearily, shuffling upright in bed at the sound of his friends growing distress. Tubbo pushed himself up as well and held his arms out to the older boy blinking sleep away, desperately seeking any form of comfort.
“Boo,” Tubbo whined sadly, hiccuping around sobs as his caregiver continued to simply sit there uncomprehending. “Boo tuddle, p’ease?”
That seemed to snap Ranboo out of it, and in a flash he was throwing off his covers and sliding his way into Tubbo’s bed. He pulled the boy close and cradled him, shushing him softly while he cried into the neck of his sleep shirt.
“Oh, Bubbo,” he crooned, fingers carding gently through his messy curls. He easily accepted the extra weight when Tubbo climbed into his lap, trying to press as close as physically possible. He reclined slightly, letting the boy lay atop his chest and pulling the blanket back up over him. Tubbo settled pretty quickly, still upset but soothed with his caregiver’s presence. “What’s wrong, Baby Bee? Did something happen?”
Tubbo whined wordlessly and tugged on Ranboo’s shirt, trying to fully bury himself in the other’s arms. “Need Boo,” he warbled, low and sad.
“Okay,” Ranboo placated, drumming his fingers down Tubbo’s spine. “Boo’s here, Boo’s got you. It’s okay, I’m right here, Bubs.”
Ranboo, meanwhile, puzzled while Tubbo settled back into a fitful doze. The other boy was deep, deep enough to seemingly not care about his childish actions in a way he rarely did. Despite their best efforts, Tubbo was almost always a little reserved when regressed. He found it difficult to completely abandon his mature mindset, and no one faulted him for it. This Tubbo, small and vulnerable and completely dependent, was new. Ranboo knew he was going to have to be extra careful today.
Tubbo didn’t stay asleep for long, but he didn’t start immediately crying when he woke up again. He sat up and sniffled pitifully, rubbing the salt and sleep out of his eyes. Ranboo braced for him to be embarrassed, but it never came. Instead Tubbo looked up at him with the most precious, sad little doe eyes, and pouted.
“Hi, Bubbo,” Ranboo muttered, Tubbo giving a stilted wave that made him chuckle. “How are you feeling?”
Tubbo just shrugged, fiddling with the collar of Ranboo’s shirt. Okay, so he was somewhat non-verbal, at least for the moment. It wasn’t the first time, Ranboo could work with this.
“Do you want to go get breakfast?” A head shake, and a huff. “You sure? You’re not thirsty?”
“Said no,” Tubbo snapped, voice slurred but sharp. “Stop askin’.”
Ranboo frowned. “Hey now, that’s not nice. There’s no need to use mean words just because I asked you something more than once.”
Tubbo huffed again and scowled but didn’t say anything, glaring at Ranboo’s chin. Now Ranboo was really confused. Tubbo had never been rude when little before. He had occasionally been forceful when he said no, but Ranboo knew he had problems with his boundaries being respected so he took those moments as a natural consequence and didn’t get too upset with the boy. This time he’d even taken a moment to scold him, and Tubbo seemed completely unapologetic. He wasn’t mad, he was just very, very concerned about this behavioral change. It didn’t seem like a natural progression from his usual attitude.
“Do you want to talk to Kristin? You seem upset, and you usually feel better after you talk to her.”
Ranboo panicked a bit more when that seemingly sparked a fresh wave of tears and Tubbo at once began hiccuping and shaking his head. He tried to soothe him, shushing him lightly and rubbing a hand up his back, but Tubbo just made a frustrated noise and pushed Ranboo’s arm away from himself. He stuttered through sobs, choking himself up and scrubbing at his face.
“Please, Bubs,” Ranboo begged, fisting his hands in the covers to resist the urge to physically comfort him when it wasn’t doing any good. “Tell me what’s wrong, I can’t do anything for you like this.”
Tubbo didn’t answer, just hurried away from Ranboo in a stumbling crawl and wedged himself in the corner where the foot of the bed met the wall. “No!” he shouted, nearly incomprehensible through his sobs. “No!”
“No what?” Ranboo pleaded with him, drawing himself away to give the younger his space. Not far, not even off the bed, just trying to give him enough room to breathe. “You don’t have to talk to Kristin, I just thought you might want to. You’re not in trouble, Honeybee.”
Tubbo jerked his head up, his little face twisted up in a scowl that didn’t look even a bit menacing with his cheeks flushed red and tear tracks all the way to his chin. He coughed out another sob, and then slapped his hands on the mattress like he was mad at himself for doing it. “No!” he hollered again. “Go!”
“Go?” Ranboo echoed helplessly, completely lost.
“Go ‘way!” The regressed boy gritted out, balling his hands into fists and pressing them to the sides of his legs as he began to rock back and forth. “Boo go ‘way!”
“You want me to go away?” That didn’t make sense, Tubbo hated it when Ranboo was out of his sight. Sometimes it even happened when he wasn’t regressed, he’d get antsy and come to see him if he’d been in another room for too long. But with Tubbo unable to clarify, and Ranboo unable to calm him down, he thought there was really nothing else he could do. “Okay, okay baby. I’ll go away for a little bit. But I’ll be right outside the door, just call for me and I’ll come right back in. And if you’re still having a hard time in five minutes, I’ll come back in anyway and we can try something else. Okay?”
Tubbo didn’t respond or acknowledge him, which Ranboo silently thought was a bad sign, but he wasn’t improving and he was out of ideas.
“Right outside,” he repeated, slowly climbing out of bed and going to stand in the hallway.
He was startled when not even a minute later, he heard the sounds of Tubbo scrambling off the mattress and barreling into the hall. Ranboo sent up a silent thanks to whoever that his reflexes weren’t that bad as he caught Tubbo just a moment before he collided with the wall.
As the younger boy sank to the floor on shaky legs, Ranboo following in a desperate confusion, he flinched back from his caregiver’s searching hands. Ranboo only barely managed to contain the gnashing hurt in his chest by the simple fact that it was far outweighed by a dull horror that a fully regressed Tubbo would flinch away from the person who was meant to care for him.
Before he could even begin to panic over whether or not Tubbo might be dissociating on top of regressing (a feelings flashback, something in a league of its own), it was all washed away with pervading worry as Tubbo’s face began to grow from flushed to a concerning shade of red.
“Boo lea’e me!” Tubbo shouted, fat tears rolling down his face while he coughed out more sobs.
“Boo didn’t leave you, I was right outside the door. Why would I leave my baby?” Ranboo frantically tried to calm the boy, hands fluttering around Tubbo’s form. He didn’t know if touching him again would set him off further and didn’t want to risk either one of them getting hurt because he made the wrong decision out of stress. It was obvious to him that he wasn’t handling this lapse of communication well.
“I bad!” Tubbo wailed, slapping his hands down on the carpet once, and then again with more force. “Boo lea’e me ‘cause I bad!”
Ranboo stifled a gasp, setting his hands under Tubbo’s where they impacted with the carpet and then drawing back when Tubbo ripped his hands away. “You are not bad, you’re very good. Being upset doesn’t make you bad, it’s okay to be upset.”
“Bad boy!” Tubbo argued, voice raw from yelling and crying.
“Good boy,” Ranboo countered, and Tubbo’s face twisted up in response.
“No’ good boy!” He hollered, banging his palms on the carpet. “I bad boy! Bad!”
Ranboo, finally deciding enough was enough, caught Tubbo’s wrists and held them in an unyielding but un-punishing grip. Not to restrain him or hurt him, simply to keep him from hurting himself further while he couldn’t help it. He was mildly relieved when Tubbo at least made no move to tug his arms away, not sure if he could find it in him to let him go.
“No,” Ranboo said firmly. “You are not a bad boy. You are a very good boy.”
“Bad!” Tubbo insisted. “Mummy said!”
“Mummy’s not here,” Ranboo argued, not unkindly. “Boo is. You’re not Mummy’s boy, you’re my boy. My good, sweet little boy who I love so much.”
Something about that finally caused something to give way, and Tubbo let out a huge weary sigh as his tears finally began to slow and he collapsed forward into Ranboo’s chest. “Said ‘m bad,” he continued to repeat, less forcefully now.
“I’m sorry that she said that.” Ranboo let his voice grow softer. Teaching was done, now was the time for comforting. He let go of Tubbo’s wrists after gently massaging them for a moment, a silent apology for any bad feelings it might have caused. He pulled the boy up into his arms and tucked him securely into his lap. “She was wrong. You are not bad, and she shouldn’t have ever tried to tell you that you were. She doesn’t get to hurt you just because you do something that she doesn’t like.”
Tubbo let out a pitiful little warbling sob, seemingly trying to bury himself deeper into Ranboo’s embrace. “Boo no’ lea’e me,” he begged.
“No baby, of course not.” The taller felt like his heart could break, how could anyone have ever treated his sweet boy so coldly? He continued to hold him close, rocking him and rubbing his back and petting his hair. “Boo won’t leave you ever, not unless you ask. I would stay with you forever. I love you.”
They stayed that way until Tubbo’s sobs softened into sniffles and the occasional hiccup, rubbing his cheek along Ranboo’s shoulder to self-soothe. Eventually he pulled away a little bit, as much as he could without leaving Ranboo’s lap, swiping a loose fist over his eyes.
“Hey, Bubbo,” Ranboo cooed, lightly tapping the boy’s sides. “Are we ready to take Cry Sesh to the next step, or do we wanna sit here for a little bit longer?”
Tubbo giggled lightly, making Ranboo’s heart swell with fondness and relief. “Icky face, Boo. C’ean it.”
“Yeah, I bet it does feel icky. But that’s okay, right? Cause if you feel the icky outside that means it’s not inside.” Tubbo nodded, mumbling ‘icky ou’side’ while Ranboo readied to get them both up. “Okay, I’m gonna get you up for just a second and then you can come up. Sound good?”
The Little nodded, letting himself be maneuvered and then brought to his feet once Ranboo was standing. He gasped as he was suddenly scooped up and balanced on Ranboo’s waist, drifting into giggles as he settled with a little bounce. He drummed his hands on the other’s shoulders, humming a disjointed tune as he was carted off to the kitchen to clean his face. He gave a nervous whine and wiggled when they reached the entryway, and Ranboo obligingly paused to hang back for a moment.
“Knock-knock~!” He sing-songed. “Anybody in there?” When no one answered, he muttered an “all clear” to Tubbo and only continued on when he felt the younger relax again.
“No bubb’es, p’ease Boo,” he requested politely, and Ranboo nodded quite seriously.
“Hold the bubbles, got it.” Tubbo giggled and agreeably let himself be set on the counter while Ranboo attempted to fish one of the packets of disinfecting wipes out of the kitchen drawers. They were special formula, intended to clean pacifiers, bottles, and other soothers quickly and easily without leaving behind a nasty taste. The only downside was that they were a little drying to the skin, so Tubbo often switched back and forth between the baby soap (which didn’t affect his skin but tasted… unpleasant) and the wipes. This distinction was often made by request for “bubbles” or “no bubbles.”
He gently kicked his feet, careful not to hit his heels off the cabinets, and watched Ranboo paw through three different drawers in search of the wipes. “Under th’ cups,” he quietly advised.
Ranboo made a noise of realization and followed Tubbo’s direction, and sure enough there were the wipes in the drawer beneath the cup cabinet. “Thanks, bud. I forgot we moved them there.”
Tubbo preened under the praise and hummed happily in response, keeping his hands still in his lap and closing his eyes as Ranboo came over with a wipe in hand. He tried his very best not to squirm, not even startling once the entire time. Ranboo praised him again, reminding him how good he was and that Ranboo was proud of him.
“I sorry I yell at you, Boo,” Tubbo apologized softly. He opened up his closed eyes when a warm palm cradled his cheek, leaning into it trustingly.
“I forgive you, Bubbo.” Ranboo smiled at him and gently kissed his forehead. “You were confused and scared, you didn’t hurt my feelings. Thank you for apologizing. Is there anything I can do next time to make it turn out better?”
Tubbo thought on it a long moment, legs picking up their swinging again, before he slowly shook his head. “Uh-uh. Boo did good. Jus’ had too many feelin’s.”
“Yeah, it’s something you’ve been sad about for a long time, huh?” Tubbo hummed in agreement, and Ranboo held both of his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “That’s okay, we’ve got time to figure it out together.”
Tubbo smiled, bonking his head gently against the other’s. “We go’ dis!”
Ranboo laughed. “Yeah, we sure do bud.”