Chapter Text
<< I just need some alone time to relax and process everything. I’m okay, promise. ❤️ (2:22 pm)
Buck sent the text off to Maddie after she had tried calling him once again. She had already been worried about him after the dinner with their parents, and after telling him about Daniel she hadn’t wanted to leave him alone at all. He had finally convinced her to back off a little with the promise that he would call if he needed to talk, but that hadn’t stopped her daily check-ins.
It had been a few days now since he learned the Buckley family secret and made it out of the fire at the hand sanitizer factory, and he still hadn’t wanted to talk much. Everyone seemed to understand that but he knew they were still worried, especially Maddie. Buck appreciated their concern and he was honored that everyone at the 118 actually cared enough about him to worry, but none of them could help in the way he needed.
A response came back from Maddie only a few seconds later.
>> Okay. Let me know if you need anything. Love you, little brother. (2:22 pm)
<< Thanks, Mads. Love you too. (2:23 pm)
After reassuring Maddie that he would be fine and she didn’t need to worry about him, Buck turned off his ringer. He didn’t want to be disturbed while he was trying to regress, partly because he didn’t want to accidentally say anything weird to anyone while he was little but also because seeing all the messages pop up made it hard for him to really relax.
He took a few deep breaths, heading upstairs to change and get what he needed for the day. He let himself start slipping into that soft headspace that had become so familiar, already starting to let go of the stress and guilt and anger that had been weighing on him since his parents came to town.
He pulled on his biggest t-shirt and his fire-truck pants, the soft, oversized articles making him feel smaller than he really was. After changing he went to his closet and grabbed one of the boxes on the floor. To anyone else it was indistinct from all the other shoe boxes in there, but Buck knew it well.
He opened it up and smiled a little at the items inside: a small brown and white stuffed cow Maddie had gotten him shortly after she moved to LA, a brightly colored but fairly nondescript (and most importantly, extra soft) blanket, and an adult-sized sippy cup that he had finally caved in and bought a few months ago. He didn’t have much gear but it was enough to make him happy.
He had been regressing for a few years, ever since he read about it somewhere and realized it was something he wanted to try. He had needed something to soothe himself after Abby left, and he didn't want to fall into old habits.
Not only that, but learning about what being a little meant had made a lot of sense with how he felt sometimes. He had always loved soft things and toys and had found himself sometimes feeling like he just wanted to cry whenever he felt any type emotion.
He had chalked it up to his poor mental health (which certainly had been part of it), but when he came across age regression something just clicked. He realized that it was something he had already been doing subconsciously, albeit not to the point that it was really recognizable to anyone else or himself. Learning there was a whole community of people out there who used regression to cope made him feel just a little less wrong for it and he decided to try it more intentionally.
It took him a while to sink the first few times, but once he got more used to it regressing was one of his favorite ways to relax. He didn’t do it too often, not wanting to become so used to it that he regressed involuntarily all the time, but as a coping mechanism it was one of the more healthy ones he had had in his lifetime.
Given the fact that he didn’t exactly have a good childhood, it was a way that he could give himself happy, safe memories of being a kid. When he finally shared it with Dr. Copeland during one of their sessions a few weeks ago, she had agreed that it could be good for him.
Other than Dr. Copeland, Buck had never told anyone he was a little. He honestly didn’t feel the need to. He knew some littles had caregivers—which would admittedly be nice sometimes—but for the most part, he was happy on his own. He couldn’t imagine feeling comfortable enough to be so vulnerable with anyone else, except maybe—
Buck gathered the items from the box, cuddling the cow against his face for a moment and relishing in the softness of her fur before he took everything downstairs with him.
(The cow was another story. When Maddie had gotten it for him, he had assumed it was just a random gift because she hadn’t really known what to get him—sometimes siblings got each other things like that and it wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for an adult to have a stuffed animal or two. He had thanked her profusely and went on about how adorable the little thing was, not noticing her soft smile and the knowing glint in her eye.)
He thought about staying upstairs in his bed but decided that would make him too sleepy, and he wanted to be in close proximity to the kitchen in case he got snacky later. He got everything ready for himself, filling his sippy with apple juice and turning on his favorite show, settling on the couch with the soft blanket around his shoulders and his cow clutched to his chest.
It wasn’t long until he was feeling happy and safe and chuckling as the Octonauts rescued the next creature in need, all thoughts of his parents and his silenced phone forgotten.