Work Text:
Jawbone is glad his kids survived the hell that was their junior year. It's always the worst year, academically, nevermind having an overarching teacher-lead conspiracy to corrupt a god. He feels really bad for Kipperlilly, the poor kid who had her adolescent anger taken advantage of and manipulated, but from what he hears the Ratgrinders are on their way to drag her out of Hell and into court-mandated therapy. There's still the stress of college applications and post graduation plans, but if Jawbone's own senior year is anything to go by, the main hurdle of that academic year is just to keep attending.
The summer break had been good for all of them. It's finally a real break for them and not a Night-Yorb-questing one, and the rest is welcome. He's glad to see the kids coming around Mordred again just for movie nights and sleepovers. He's missed the chaos the kids always bring into the house. It's a nice return to form.
All the kids are doing a lot better.
All except one.
He can't help but be worried about Fabian. His mother had returned home from her year long trip- with the staff, because apparently she had taken the staff. Jawbone had thought all the “Fabian was left alone in a big house” talk had at least included staff, but apparently the kid was maintaining a house that usually took a small army to run completely alone. No wonder there was so much take-out.
She had returned home, and she was pregnant, and she was making Fabian help put with all the preparations. His summer break, one of the last of his childhood, was being spent preparing for a sibling.
It wasn't Jawbone's place to say anything. He knew that. Fabian had never once come to him to talk about anything, and all of this information Jawbone had learned secondhand. He wasn't sure if he and Fabian had ever had a real one-on-one conversation. The kid was as good as Riz at avoiding Jawbone's prodding, and Riz was a high-leveled rogue. But Jawbone was a guidance counselor and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together.
If Fabian had been just a year younger, Hallariel would have been charged with child neglect. But he was eighteen-turning-nineteen instead of seventeen-turning-eighteen his junior year, and somehow that meant he was an adult.
The kids all made jokes at his expense- how Fabian was a spoiled only child jealous that his mother's attention was being split. It made Jawbone's fur stand on end, but he gritted his teeth and stayed quiet. He made the odd comment about maybe being nicer to their friend during what was a difficult time emotionally, but for the most part, he stayed out of it.
It wasn't his place. It really, really, wasn't his place.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder if he should say something. It might not be his place to, but he isn't sure whose it was.
In the end, it doesn't matter. The baby is born. Fabian ends up moving out of his house, which eases some of Jawbone's concerns. His friends all talk to him, and Jawbone suspects that Fabian must actually admit something, because they suddenly stop all the teasing. Fig is a little more wary of Hallariel when she goes over to visit. Jawbone thinks the matter is resolved. He's proud of his kids for stepping up and helping their friend.
And then he wakes up to a call from a hysterical Fig, about how Fabian has taken their sister and won't come out of his apartment.
Jawbone gets the story in pieces as he speeds over to Fabian's new apartment- about how he and Fig were over for a visit when Hallariel had pulled out her sword to show to the baby. Fabian had stood up and snatched his baby sister out of her crib and bolted. Fig had chased him out of the house, but he had taken off on the Hangman. By the time she made it to his apartment, all of the doors were bolted shut and magically sealed. She was able to get through the front door, but the bedroom had tighter wards, and Fabian wasn't replying to anyone.
Jawbone doesn't want to make assumptions. It's his job as a guidance counselor to be a neutral mediator. But there is a howling anger clawing inside his chest, an instinctual knowledge that something is wrong , that this pup is hurt, and he needs to protect him.
When he arrives, Adaine and Aelwyn are sitting outside the bedroom, carefully undoing the wards. Fig paces back and forth, her tail lashing angrily.
“Why would he do this?” she yells. “How stupid can he be? He took a baby on a fucking motorcycle, Jawbone.”
Jawbone tries to placate her. “I don't think he's in his right mind, sweetie. Something freaked him out.”
“What, his mom ?”
“Yes,” Adaine bites out, voice clipped as she retains her focus on the wards. “Yeah, Fig. His mom.”
Fig stops in her tracks. She covers her mouth and makes an angry noise. “I know. I know , I know, but-”
“It's scary,” Jawbone says. “He's freaking out, yeah, but you don't know if your sister is okay. It's okay to be scared.”
“What do you think is happening?” Fig asks. “Jawbone, you know about this stuff. He wouldn't hurt her, right?”
“I don't think so,” Jawbone replies. “My best guess right now is some sort of PTSD episode.”
He hears a click and turns to the pair of sisters.
“The wards are undone,” Aelwyn says, leaning back and stretching. “Do not expect me to help out with the rest. This is your little friend having a meltdown, Adaine. Not mine.”
“You literally used to- okay,” Adaine sighs, standing up. “Um. Jawbone, I think you might be the best person to go in.”
Jawbone nods. He squeezes Fig's hand. “It'll be okay, sweetheart,” he says, before turning to the bedroom door. He listens intently to the other side- he can definitely hear a pair of heartbeats.
He cracks the door open. Nothing is immediately visible. He has to struggle to open the door, because a dresser is propped under the handle to help keep it closed, and he winces at the loud sound it makes.
Fabian's heart rate spikes. He hears a muffled cry of a baby and somebody desperately shushing them, and his eyes land on the closet door.
His heart sinks. Safety, he realizes. All the layers of doors and locks were about safety. Because Fabian is, for one reason or another, in a state of fight-or-flight and trying to protect himself.
“Hey, Fabian,” he calls out, keeping his voice soothing and quiet. “Sorry about all that noise. You doing okay in here?”
No response. He wasn't really expecting one. He continues to speak aloud about his day, keeping his tone carefree and calm. Eventually, he sees the closet door crack open and an eye peeks out at him.
“Hi,” he repeats. He makes no move to approach, knowing that will only scare off the kid more.
“Jawbone,” Fabian replies, his voice distant and strange. “You didn't- you didn't run into Mama or Papa on the way, did you?”
Jawbone looks at Fabian a little closer. His eye is not quite focused, and he keeps glancing around warily. He also mentioned his father as if he's still alive, which rings all kinds of alarms.
“No,” Jawbone says slowly, trying to gauge Fabian's reaction. “I didn't.”
“Good, good. ‘Thilda- Cathilda must be keeping them to the main floor, but- you must be quiet,” Fabian says. “They're fighting.”
“...Where do you think you are right now, Fabian?”
“Seacaster Manor,” Fabian answers distractedly. He shifts his grip on his sister, who lets out another cry. Fabian shushes her, bouncing her in his arms as he hums a tune to sooth her, but his eye is still wild with panic and Jawbone can hear his heart pounding. “We have to hide, Jawbone. Papa gets angry, and Mama gets so drunk she can't tell what she's fighting. One time I accidentally walked in on them, and-”
Fabian's grip on his sister tightens. He swallows thickly, looking away. “We have to hide,” he repeats. “Cathilda says so.”
Alright. Okay. So this is definitely a post traumatic episode. From what Jawbone can figure, Fabian is trapped in a childhood memory where he had to hide from his parents. This is a complicated situation- he needs to calm Fabian down and make sure his sister is okay. Safety is his number one priority.
Hallariel had taken out her sword to show the baby, Jawbone remembers.
“Okay. We can hide,” Jawbone says. “Do you want to play a game with me to pass the time?”
Fabian shrugs, keeping a vigilant watch on his surroundings.
“Can you name five things you see?”
“Like I Spy?” Fabian mumbles. “Okay. Um…the door. You. The dresser. My Sig Figs poster. The lamp.”
A little clarity returns to Fabian's eye, and he blinks in confusion. “My Sig Figs poster…?” he repeats. “But …”
“Now four things you can touch.”
“Uh. The carpet. The wall. My sister's blanket. Um,” Fabian looks up, still curled up in the corner of the closet. “I can touch the clothes if I reach up? Does that count?”
“Good. Now three things you can hear.”
“You,” Fabian replies. “The AC running. Voices in the other room. Um…I don't- wait, is that Fig? And Adaine? What are they doing here?”
“Two things you can smell,” Jawbone presses, trying to keep Fabian's focus.
“What I can smell, Jawbone? I don't know. My room doesn't have a smell,” Fabian responds indignantly. He blinks again, looking around. “Wait, my room. Why am I in my room? I'm not-”
“Fabian. Two things you can smell.”
“Cologne. And, uh, the air freshener. I just cleaned my room, Jawbone, it doesn't smell.”
“One thing you can taste.”
“Blood. Oh, shit, did I bite my mouth. What the fuck?” Fabian reaches up to his jaw. “When did that happen? Why am I…?”
He looks around at his surroundings. His blinks heavily, squeezing his eye shut and reopening it- trying to ground himself, Jawbone knows. The blinking is a result of his dissociation.
“Why don't you give me your sister?” Jawbone offers, keeping his voice steady. “I can give her to Fig to take care of, and get you a glass of water.”
“...Okay,” Fabian replies, voice quiet and unsteady. Jawbone gently releases the baby from Fabian's grip and opens the bedroom door. All of the girls turn towards him, but he gestures to keep their voices down.
“What's going on?” Fig whispers as she reaches to take her sister. Jawbone hands her over- a quick inspection reveals that the baby is perfectly fine physically, if more than a little upset.
Jawbone considers his words. He's not sure how much Fabian would actually want to reveal when he's back in his right frame of mind, but Fig is very worried and deserves some sort of explanation. “Some sort of flashback,” he settles on. “Can you get a glass of ice water? The temperature will help ground him.”
Adaine hands him one she has already prepared. “I had a vision,” she says. “But I also just thought it might help.”
Jawbone thanks her quietly before returning back to Fabian. Fabian looks confused when Jawbone returns, but he doesn't protest the water handed to him and he sips on it quietly. His blinking pattern is still a little irregular, but his breathing and heartbeat are beginning to settle. Jawbone is careful to keep all his movements slow and not to invade Fabian's space as he gathers himself and takes stock of his surroundings.
“Is she okay?” Fabian asks. “I didn't mean to- that is to say, I…uh.”
“She's okay. Fig is taking care of her now. A little freaked out, but perfectly fine otherwise.”
“Good, good,” Fabian hums. He stares down at his hands, tracing patterns in the condensation of the glass. “I didn't…um. I'm not in Seacaster Manor?”
“No. You're in your apartment. You moved out a little bit ago,” Jawbone explains. Fabian is still pretty out of it, if he's asking that.
“Right. I moved out. Because of my sister,” Fabian answers. “My sister. Is she okay?”
“She's okay,” Jawbone repeats. Really out of it, then.
They go in circles for a few minutes as Fabian grounds himself to his surroundings. It's a little heart wrenching to watch, actually. The more Fabian comes back to himself, the more Jawbone can see his walls being put back into place. He watches as Fabian's vulnerable, confused face is carefully schooled back into a neutral expression. He watches the way Fabian deliberately rolls his shoulders back from his hunched position, sitting up straighter as he puts on a facade of confidence.
“Sorry, Jawbone,” Fabian announces as he pulls himself out of the closet and dusts himself off, stretching. Jawbone’s pretty sure Fabian's still a little shaky, but Fabian must consider himself collected enough to no longer allow himself to show it. “I don't know what that was all about. I should- we should have Adaine check me over, Detect Magic.”
“Why?”
“Well I've been cursed, obviously,” Fabian scoffs. “ Like a Modify Memory? I don't know.”
Jawbone doesn't say anything, but something must show on his face because Fabian glares at him.
“What?” he snaps. “This isn't- I don't get, like, panic attacks or whatever. It's a curse, Jawbone.”
“It's a post-traumatic flashback,” Jawbone says slowly. “At least, that's what it seemed like to me, but I could be wrong. We can have Adaine check you out if it would help.”
“Yes, it would,” Fabian replies, already pushing his way out of the bedroom. “Guys? I'm fine now. Adaine, can you check me out for magic?”
Adaine makes a face, but Jawbone catches her eye. He tries to silently communicate with her and she must get enough of it because she doesn't Message him and she turns to Fabian without any protest.
“No magic,” she says after a moment of the spell running. “Well, besides your usual bard stuff.”
“What?” Fabian's ears pin back and his face flushes. “Are you sure? Can you check again?”
“I'm not wasting a spell slot on that,” she replies. “I think you just had a- like, a flashback.”
“I don't get those,” Fabian snaps, distressed. “I- I'm not trying to be difficult . I don't get those. Something is wrong.”
“You just moved out, right?” Jawbone interrupts.
“Um. Yeah,” Fabian replies. “Why?”
The pieces are slotting together and Jawbone considers his words, trying to put this as delicately as possible. “Sometimes, when you leave a traumatic environment, your brain kicks into overdrive protecting itself,” Jawbone explains. “It's because you're no longer in constant fight-or-flight, and you have the space to process things. It's not unusual for symptoms to get worse before they get better.”
Adaine nods. “My panic attacks got much worse when I was in Strongtower,” she says softly. “Because it was the first time I wasn't living with my parents.”
“But I lived on my own all last year.”
“Yeah, but you didn't exactly have a break from stress,” Jawbone replies. Not to mention the environmental factor- he was alone, sure, but he was still in the Manor.
“You're like, just now processing how fucked-up your parents were,” Fig says. “ And you're dealing with our new sibling and all that now. This all started because Hallariel was showing off her swords to the baby- which is fucking crazy, by the way. You saw that and- flashback. That makes sense.”
“Oh, god,” Fabian groans, covering his face in his hands. “Mama is going to be so mad.”
“No, she won't be,” Aelwyn says, looking at her nails. “I already called her and gave her some spiel about you wanting to take your sister for an improvised sibling bonding adventure, and you had to do it suddenly because that's how pirates do it. She has no idea how babies work, so she was positively thrilled. Said it was good experience for your sister.”
Everybody turns to look at Aelwyn. “What?” she says. “I spent years lying my ass off to my own shitty high-elven parents. I know how to spin things.”
“Aw,” Adaine teases. “You do care!”
“Shut up,” Aelwyn hisses, her cheeks reddening. “I'll kill you for that. You know I will.”
Adaine grins and the sisters continue to bicker. Fig bounces the baby in her lap- the mood has considerably lifted, now that everything has been sorted out, but Jawbone isn't quite at ease. Fabian still looks deeply shaken by what has happened- he's hiding it pretty well, but Jawbone's a counselor. He can see the signs, the uncharacteristic reservedness to Fabian's body language as he laughs along with the girls.
It makes Jawbone wonder how much he hasn't seen. He'd known Fabian was struggling, and he'd known the Seacaster parents had their…problems. Hallariel had left for an entire fucking year, but at least Fabian was plausibly adult enough for her to think that was okay to do. This was different. This was a good and proper flashback.
This was the experience of a child who had learned to be absolutely terrified of the adults around him.
He knows the signs of abuse. He's seen them in Adaine and Kristen and Tracker, glaring and obvious and alarming. He's seen them in other Aguefort students and has quietly guided them towards resources and safety. He's trained for this. Fabian is evasive, but that's no excuse. Hell, a distaste for authority is one of the signs ! Jawbone can see everything he's missed ringing like warning bells, filled with a sudden clarity only hindsight allows. Fabian's politeness towards adults, a bit out-of-sync with the rest of his bombastic personality. His flippant attitude towards injuries during school-sponsored party drills. The tight lock he keeps on any weakness that even his party wasn't very privy to. It all adds up to a picture that Jawbone isn't sure how he's missed, but there's no use dwelling on it or lambasting himself. What's important is that Jawbone knows now, and he needs to act on that information.
“Hey, girls. Why don't you go down and wait by the car?” Jawbone interrupts. “There's an old car seat in the back for your sister, Fig. I grabbed it before I left but didn't set it up.”
Fabian's expression doesn't change, but Jawbone catches the way his ear flicks and his heartbeat stutters.
Fig nods, cooing towards her sister as she makes for the door. Adaine seems to catch Jawbone’s intent, however, and stops.
“We could drive her back, first,” she says quietly. “If you need more time.”
Jawbone shakes his head. “I'll be down in a few,” he reassures.
She steps towards the door before looking back at Fabian, trying to find something to say. “It'll be okay,” she says after a moment. “I promise. I've…I've been there, Fabian. It's okay. Jawbone's cool.”
“Of course I know Jawbone's cool,” Fabian scoffs.
She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “You know what I mean.”
He nods. She looks at him a moment longer before finally turning to leave. Aelwyn follows closely behind her- though Jawbone sees a worried glance towards Fabian that she tries to hide.
The door clicks shut behind them and all that is left is Jawbone and Fabian, alone.
“Look, I promise I'll get out of your hair in a minute,” Jawbone reassures. “I just need to make sure you're okay.”
“I'm good, Jawbone,” Fabian answers, not quite keeping the annoyance out of his voice. Right. Walls up.
“...I'm not the person you should talk to about this,” Jawbone admits. Fabian looks up in confusion. “I'm not just your guidance counselor. I'm your friend's dad, and that makes this extra weird. I get it. Just-look–”
Jawbone reaches for his wallet and rifles through a couple business cards he keeps on hand- different therapists he recommends for kids at school. He pulls out the card he's looking for– Emery, a Halfling woman and a no-nonsense family trauma specialist whose direct approach will do wonders for Fabian's emotional squirreliness.
He places the card on Fabian’s coffee table. “This is the number of someone I think worth talking to,” Jawbone continues. “What's nice about therapy is that there are no strings attached. It's literally their job to help you. Talking this stuff out can be helpful, but it's harder sometimes when it's people you know. It sounds counterintuitive, but it's true.”
Fabian makes no effort to pick the card up, but he does look at it with some interest, so Jawbone's counting that as a win. He knows he can’t press too hard here- as much as there's a million reassurances and therapeutic techniques he wants to impart, the moment he oversteps, Fabian is going to shunt him right back out.
And, to be frank, Jawbone's out of his depth here. Beyond the “your friend's dad” complication, Jawbone isn't a trauma specialist. He's a guidance counselor whose day to day mostly involves friendship disputes and paperwork. What Fabian is dealing with is far outside his professional wheelhouse- it's why he has the business cards. Part of his job is knowing where his job ends and somebody else's begins.
“Don't talk to me,” Jawbone says. “Honestly, fuck talking to me. You clearly don't want to, and that's–”
“Well, Jawbone-” Fabian startles, stammering to defend himself. “I- it's not that I don't want to talk to you, it's-”
“It's fine ,” Jawbone laughs. “I'm not mad! I get it! You think I was a big open book when I was a teenager? Shit's hard to talk about! What's important is that you're talking. That might mean therapy. That might just mean with your friends. Whatever that means is okay. But you shouldn't not talk about it, Fabian.”
Fabian's ears pin back and he averts his gaze. “I don't… like talking about it,” he admits stiffly. It’s the most honest Jawbone's ever seen him, based on how uncomfortable he looks.
Jawbone nods. “I don't know if anybody likes it,” he says. “But it's healing. It's like any physical wound. Like, you ever had to do some real first-aid shit? No cleric or healers around? I have. I had to stitch up this dude who had his arm near clean cut off in the alley behind a Denny's with nothing but some dental floss, a needle, and a bottle of vodka. It hurt like a motherfucker, I'm sure. Had to have three other guys holding him down so he wouldn't move. But what would have happened if I didn’t do that? If I just left it alone? It might have healed on its own, sure, but in that alley with a fuckton of infections bound to happen? Therapy isn't easy. Talking about shit isn't easy. But sometimes you have to bite down on a towel and let your friend stitch you up, because the healing needs to get done somehow, and you'll be better off if it's done the right way. You get me?”
“ Dental floss ?” Fabian asks, horrified.
Okay. Maybe that wasn't the right story to use as an analogy.
“My point is,” Jawbone continues, “ any kind of healing is painful. But you'd rather a doctor or cleric do it then leave it alone.”
Fabian nods thoughtfully. He looks at the card on the table again. Jawbone is considering this another victory.
“Now I know you don't want to hear this, but you did just go through a pretty rough thing,” Jawbone says. “Will you be okay if I leave?”
“Yes,” Fabian replies immediately. “Yes, I'm fine. I'll- I'll text one of my friends if I really need it. I'm good. ”
Fabian is all but rushing Jawbone out the door, so Jawbone knows it's time to take his leave. “Mordred's doors are always open!” he calls out as Fabian smiles politely and shuts the door firmly in his face.
Jawbone sighs and gives himself a moment to collect himself. A conversation is coming with Fig and Adaine and the rest of the girls about what has happened here, and he's not sure how much he should say. Fabian is out of the house, at least, and is legally an adult so any immediate safety concerns with him are taken care of. There is still the very pressing matter of Fabian and Fig's baby sister. Hallariel, by all accounts, has been making a profound effort to take care of the new baby, but given what Jawbone could glean from Fabian's flashback…he's more than a little concerned. He'll need to speak with Sandra-Lynn and the other parents about keeping an eye on things. Hell, how much did Gilear know about all this?
Maybe he's overstepping. Maybe this extends far beyond his reach as guidance counselor and friend's-dad. Jawbone doesn't really give a shit anymore about social propriety. It's his responsibility as an adult to a child. Fabian might act like he's got it all together, but the image of him peeking out behind the closet door is still circling in Jawbone's mind. He sounded so young.
How young had Fabian been when this had happened for real?
The specifics don't matter. Every instinct in him is howling to do everything he can to make sure that this still too young pup is safe.
A million different plans of action are running through Jawbone’s mind, and he sighs. One step at a time. They would return Fig and Fabian's baby sister back home. Jawbone would pull Gilear aside and make sure he knew what warning signs to look out for. He would talk to the girls about what had happened while doing his best to respect Fabian's privacy. He would talk to Sandra-Lynn about setting up a safety net for Fabian and his sister, and keeping a closer eye on them.
He would keep his kids safe. It was the least he could do.