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8-rae-rae-8 · 26 seconds ago

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"Who's 'Mama', Alex?" - SIX (tv) Fic 1/1

With the bad ending on here, or good ending on AO3

CLASSIFICATION AU - AgeRe

Summary:

Alex doesn't know what to do with himself, he tossed his phone somewhere and all he can do is scramble to his keys and find a way to get somewhere safe--away from himself. He finds himself at Buddha's place, with his comfort item and barely enough willpower to stop himself from breaking right there. Being Little wasn't a gift, he was cursed with these emotions he can't handle when he drops so very far. Buddha needs to call someone quick before the Little in front of him shatters beyond the tears on his face. Who was it that Alex wanted again?

12.2k Words - AO3 for tags (there's a lot) Begins below the cut - NOT beta read

[s2 between ep1 & 2]

He doesn't remember grabbing his keys, nor getting in and out of his car. Everything meshed together in a mix of panicked feelings and a lump in his throat. Caulder doesn't cry, he likes to tell himself that. It's a weakness, even when everything kept piling up and he couldn't keep that feeling away. There's no subtlety to the way fuzziness clouds his mind, no slow creeping in, no time to settle in, just suddenly there. Tears try to blur his vision despite his best efforts to keep it all away.

Whatever pills he swallowed down were only enough to get him somewhere safe enough to fall. His parking job didn't matter, he's just fucking lucky he's alive to have made it when he could barely see ahead of himself, let alone understand exactly what he was doing. Being on autopilot meant he at least knew where he was going in some capacity.

Buddha's place, the house he and his family ran to after Rip's shooting—after his Caregiver died—he's lucky he navigated all the way there at all. It's closer than their old place was, and much closer than anyone else's. Being close to the water meant being far from the rest of his team, and usually he wouldn't trade the sounds of the ocean for a warm place to fall, but he would now. Anywhere was better than alone.

His fist doesn't even have to hit the door for there to be someone peeking through the peephole. The smallest bit of light from the interior shines a circular dot on his cheek, narrowly missing his eye. He winces all the same, other hand tightening around the small items in his hand. Car keys, wallet, and the tail of a small lovie. Something old with it's age showing on the fluff, yet he clutches it in his hand all the same.

He's delicate like this, something in need of protection and warmth. Caulder's hands never reach out first, and the fact that he's shown up here, of all places, is enough to confuse the household he stumbled to. Shuffling and whispered yells come from inside, until the door clicks unlocked and opens in front of him. Warm light floods his vision, contrasting the dark skies above him.

Little.

It's a curse and a blessing.

Gentle hands pull him from the chill of the outdoors. Trembling shoulders coated in warmth as a blanket comes in contact with his cold frame. He hadn't been standing out there that long, had he? How long had that drive actually taken? Did he go the correct route? Was it the chills, or fear that made him shake in such a way?

The house feels like safe, despite the uneasy atmosphere of a surprise guest. Moving parts all around him that his brain can't process as fast like he needs it to. He's stuck, frozen as everything moves around him.

"Alex..?" He wants to call the immediate help just the instincts of a Caregiver, but he can't exactly when it's three sets of hands are helping him to the couch. Jackie, Ricky, and Anabel. Their daughter had to have been the one to open the door—it's not like he can remember everything passed the growing fuzziness in his head. Illegal pills can't push the small away.

"Buddha..." Alex attempts, tongue heavy in his mouth the more he tries to get his words out properly. The items in his hands almost drop from his hands as his grip falters. His head says safe, while his stomach tightens another knot.

It could be written off so easily as him drinking a little too much, if Ricky's chest didn't tighten with the sight of Alex crumbling. He's too goddamn small for the age range he knows is on his files, four to six… They can hope he's just on the smaller side for now.

Getting Alex to the couch is a lost thought the second he falls into Buddha's arms. Getting a closer look at him, dark eyebags show themselves better in the light, bitten lips swollen with small traces of blood in the chapped skin. Something was wrong, something Ricky can't fix the way Alex needs. What he can do, though, is hold him tightly in his arms while he sways, just the same way he did with both of his kids. Rocking them until they settled.

Alex doesn't settle. His arms may wrap around Ortiz, and he may let himself lay against him, but he never settles. Constantly shifting his weight while he tugs and tugs at the fabric on Ricky's shirt once he got a decent grip. The items in his hand get clutched tighter in favor of holding the small plush, for the smallest bit of familiarity... The sniffling could be chalked up to him being sick, but the small wet spots growing on his shirt, under Alex's eyes says otherwise.

Being classified a Caregiver didn't mean they all knew how to help, just to make it bearable 'till it would be okay.

"You're alright, 's okay… Shh, shh…" Buddha whispers as he threads his hand through the hair at the back of Alex's head. Gentle, slow, avoiding any knots in the Little's hair. He only stills as he finally cups the back of Caulder's head. That small bit of comfort almost breaks the rest of any resolve he may have had.

Alex doesn't cry, until he's too damn small to stop it.

Ortiz never falters in the position Alex put him in, on purpose or not. That much didn't matter. What does, is that he's not alone.. that someone is holding him. Right now, it doesn't matter if they have space for him to sleep overnight or not. They can make it all seem okay, that's what they do. As Anabel backs into her room, and it's just him, Ricky and Jackie, it feels a lot more heavy.

Everything gets more heavy, and he can't stop the weak cries into his teammate's shoulder. Being small isn't something to be ashamed of, they can all agree on that in their own ways. Although, Alex will always say it's fine for anyone else, just not him. It's never been a thing he's spoken about, or shown, for christ's sake. There's a reason for that.

A situation like this shouldn't happen. Not on the military grade suppressants the Littles in their unit are on. They all have their times to get off the medication, but this was not Alex's. He wasn't due for that until the next week. He knew that. Situations like this are exactly why he keeps a baggie of pills in his bathroom cabinet. It was supposed to be okay, then the suppressants he'd been given weren't enough and back alley pills were all he could afford to get. No one would give him anything stronger than the military, it was a last resort to keep him on his feet.

He wasn't supposed to drop.

But the times he did, in a safe environment after being given the medication to regress the proper way, there's only one person Alex ever wanted to be there; Bear. Trusting the team was easy, all Alex had known for years was the team. The hard part of that was the vulnerability he did his damned best to hide. From wounds, to his classification as a Little. One person he trusted with himself in that state was Bear—it's a heavy weight to carry.

He needed Bear, but all he managed to do was get to the second best place. There's no extra bed for him to crash in, no space for him in a full house. All he needed was somewhere safe, somewhere to fall into that wouldn't break him upon impact. He won't gather scrapes and scars if he's treated with the warmth that Ricky supplies. He trusts him, as a man in his team, as a friend, a place to land when there isn't anywhere else. Just not a Caregiver.

It's a difficult wound to soothe, one Alex hasn't quite figured out. His one option had been Bear, after Rip was no longer there to care for him. For Graves, without much left of a family, he was there around the clock if Alex ever needed him. It didn't take long for him to be his first call or text at any sign of something going wrong. Sometimes it was just to chat, those times calmed him better than anything could. Once, it was the rush of waves against sand that lulled him to sleep, now, it's Bear's voice through the phone.

Never once did they discuss anything of the sort. No Caregiver and Little agreement, nothing written and signed the way it should have been. It was supposed to be a temporary agreement, Alex would come to him with the medication to help him regress, and Joe would have a Little attached to his hip the rest of the day, if not longer. They both slipped into their roles as if it was the easiest thing in the world, the way it was supposed to be. It happened slowly. A call here and there, messages randomly throughout the day… They bonded without realizing a single thing was different.

In his mind, few things changed. Like kids, most Littles have names for their Caregivers, something simplified that they could easily call for, something that brought a sense of calm. Mom, dad, baba, papa… Whatever it may be. Alex's mind associated Bear with one much faster than he did with Rip. Both mom and dad carried a certain heaviness in his heart, but for Bear… 'Mama' fits just right. The name he calls for in the silence of his room, when it is truly just him. No Caregiver around, no Bear, no Buddha, no one else. The title sits on the tip of his tongue, bitten in an effort to not call for someone he can't guarantee will come.

Alex doesn't know the words that slip from his lips at Ricky's gentle touch once his teeth release his tongue, warm hands rubbing circles into his back until Alex's breathing matched the up and down motions. Something babbled beyond comprehension spills from his tightening throat. The right sounds for the words he's searching for don't come to him the way he needs. Being small in such a way terrified him, he can't keep a solid hold on a single thought before it dissipates. His hands clench on the fabric of Buddha's shirt.

"Who do you need, kid? Who can I call?"

If he calls in the middle of the night, will it cause problems? Or would the Caregiver he needs pick him up and make it better? Does he get to be better? After every argument he sparked for no other reason than to fill the silence, he can only hope he deserves better than the cold his previous Caregiver may have left him in. It depended on the number of drinks he had hours before, whether Alex would get to go home to a safe place. Bear isn't like Rip, not like that.

The title of 'mama' falls from his lips faster than he can think to stop himself. The word muffles against Ricky's chest where his face is pressed, was he loud enough to speak past his own weak cries? Alex's phone was left the last place he put it, maybe his bedside? The counter? It's not in his hands or pockets… He can't just call, or he would've before he even got in the car and risked not only his life, but others', just to be somewhere safe.

"Who's 'mama', hm?" There's a beat of silence between responses. The Little can feel the way Ricky shifts on his feet, tongue clicking in thought. Uncertainty on his face as Alex peers up at him, just enough to see his face. "Is it Bear, Alex? You want me to call Bear?" Please.

Tears sparkle in his eyelashes, blinking away the droplets. A trembling lip pulls into his mouth, worried between his teeth. Alex nods, short and hesitant, like he fears the brown eyes looking back at him will burn him. There's not a thing in his mind that's concrete right now. He can know he's safe, he can know nothing bad will happen to him, but it doesn't take the fear away. This situation was never supposed to happen. He shouldn't need the shoulder to lean on, or the coddling, but he does. And, god, he needs his Caregiver more than anything in this moment.

"I got it… Just let it out, huh? Just a minute..." Ortiz hesitates to pull his hand from where it rests on the back of Alex's head, carding back through his hair once before it leaves him completely. He still holds him, one arm wrapped around him to keep him steady amidst the Little's trembling. The comfort eases his tensed shoulders, pulling them down slowly until they no longer cramp where they were raised to his ears.

Caulder presses his face firmly back to the tear dampened spot on Buddha's shirt. His own shuddering breath fills the space, with the quiet tapping Ricky's fingertips against the phone screen. Is it too late? What if there's no answer?

The phone rings once, twice, then three times before a click.

"Buddha, if you woke me up for bullshit again…" Comes the exhausted voice through the phone. Relief immediately floods through the Little's body, his head sagging forward to press his entire weight on Ricky. It's okay. It'll be okay now. Bear is right there, he'll know, he has to.

"Alex needs you." Simple, quick to the point.

"Is he with you?" Any sleepiness strips from the team leader as blankets audibly shuffle. Graves clears his throat, hands barely holding the phone while he moves as quickly as he can. Every brush of fabric and movement near the microphone comes through as ruffling to their end of the call.

"Got 'im right here… My house, door's unlocked." Ricky calmly speaks. The last thing everyone needs is everyone high on nerves. He's been there before, albeit briefly, when Alex was waiting for someone to pick him up. Not to mention the courses they take just to keep someone—specifically a Little—calm in any situation.

"Bear…" Alex's small voice calls to the phone, blue eyes blinking up to the bright screen. He's not far, Alex needs to believe that, at least. It's scary to be small and confused, no matter how old his age range might be… Wanting someone close was second nature to him, after hitting everyone away had failed. There was no one to hold him when he was small before, is it so wrong to not want to be let go of again? Is it wrong to not want to be alone? There hadn't been a real mom or a present dad for him when he actually was a kid, he needs that closeness now, when everything still feels like it will crumble at any second.

"Put him on the phone, Buddha, now." He just barely hears his Caregiver say into the phone, alongside the sound of elevator buttons. There's no hesitation to Ricky pressing the phone to Alex's ear, he holds him all the same. That's all that Buddha can do. He's not the boy's carer, he is simply all he has for now.

The smallest whimper comes from Alex's trembling lips as the cool glass of the screen comes in contact with his skin. All of the items in his hands clatter to the floor, car keys falling somewhere he can't be bothered to look. That's not the thought in his mind, just holding the tail of his little plushie and hearing Mama's voice.

"Alex? 'm on the way, okay? Ten minutes, I promise." The drive is at least twenty, Alex just doesn't have to know that right now… Nothing stops a Caregiver from getting to their Little one, it didn't matter the distance. They've all seem the lengths they go, just for family. This is no different. A Caregiver getting to their Little in a rush, despite every law in the way.

Alex nods shallowly as he sniffles, nose crinkling with the effort. His shaking hand clutches the plush tighter. Mama will be there. He has to.

"Okay, stay with Buddha, he keeps you safe, remember?" Bear speaks to him the same way he saw him talk to his daughter, not even one and getting into baby fights with her dad about the silliest things. Alex remembers seeing it. Hell, he remembers feeling the fuzziness try to creep in even then. He had cuddled up with his stuffed animals that night (despite having tucked them away the day before), safe and sound.

Does he get to be safe and sound tonight, too?

"Uh-huh…" Caulder mutters into the mic, cheek squished against Ricky's chest.

"That's it. Wait for me, I'll knock when I get there." Joe promises him again before the phone clicks off and that deep, unsettling feeling makes it's home back in Alex's stomach. He'll be there, he has to come. Bear won't leave him like this will he? Like Rip had?

Even with the unease, Alex shifts to loosen his grip and look up through his wet eyelashes. Deep breaths don't do anything when his chest tightens more and more. All he can do is wait. Why does he always have to wait? When is it his turn to have the gentle things he needs?

"He's on the way…" Buddha whispers to him, phone tucked away and the kind hand threading back through his hair. Slowly, with every ounce of care Alex has seen him use with his own kids, Buddha finds a way to move the both of them without startling the growing anxiety in Alex's head. Steady movements until they've back up enough to feel the couch, it only takes a moment to coax the Little down next to him… A warm blanket can work wonders for someone so small.

Ten minutes feel like ten hours to both scared kids, and scared Littles. The silence breaks every so often for Alex to quietly ask if Bear really is coming, and although Buddha may not know who's cared for Alex before, he gets the idea that he was left so, so alone. The Little's hand holds onto the warm blanket around his shoulders like it could be ripped away without a moments notice, while the other finds a better grip on his small plushie.

A warm arm tucks around him, pressing away any space in the blanket where cold air can slip in, then simply holds Alex close. Low, steady humming coaxes his mind to settle to where he is now, somewhere warm while he waits for his Caregiver to knock. Buddha's always been good at that, redirecting someone with the smallest things if he so much as notices something is off. It's easy when he's done it so many times, it usually (if not always) pulls the Little back to where he's supposed to be.

"Why don't you tell me who your friend is?" Buddha prompts with a gentle tug to the stuffed animal Alex is yet to loosen his grip on. At the prompting alone, he squeezes the soft toy protectively. He won't take it, Alex knows that, but it doesn't take the fear out of his mind. It goes back longer than he can remember, only the feeling and tiny glimpses remain. Something was taken from him, things were snatched but he can't remember what. He doesn't want to remember whatever gave him that gut wrenching feeling.

"Lovie…" Alex answers with a quivering lip. There's no name for the ragged comfort item, he never found one he thought was good enough for it. The brown fabric folds in his hand where he squeezes it. In the limited light of the living room, the little ears and nose on the head of the plush make it clear what it's meant to be. A little bear lovie, worn and loved well, with "A. C." written on the white tag at the bottom seam in a certain teammate's hand writing.. Bear's.

The quiet conversation hooks his attention. For the time being, his strained breathing eases and he listens to his temporary 'baby sitter' talk and ask questions that are easy on his regressed mind. Yes or no questions, things about his lovie… Buddha is kind to him, it's in a Caregiver's blood to be, but that doesn't mean Alex always got that kindness before. The ache in his tummy slowly untangles, the tears on his face begin to dry with the help of Ricky gently wiping them away with a tissue from a box by the couch.

It's not so scary anymore. Buddha gets him to settle just enough to where Alex is laying his head on his chest when that knock at the door happens. Unlike usual, the Little stays put and waits to see his Caregiver look into the room. His blanket is tucked around him too well, it's too warm to leave, and Ricky never nudges him to go. He just started feeling safe again, and god forbid Bear get angry with him for needing him.

"Over here, Bear." Buddha calls, an arm snugly around the Little who's almost half in his lap. He only ever shifted to accommodate however Alex wanted to sit.

"Oh, Alex…" The sigh of relief fills the room, the worried crease in Bear's brow eases as he looks down at the Little huddled up in his teammates arms. "You got me worried… Why didn't you call me?" Joe asks. His knees pop when he crouches down to look at Alex at eye level.

"He didn't have his phone when he showed up..." Ricky interjects, his arm loosening around him to let Alex move freely.

All Alex does is shift ever so slightly and blink up at Bear. His trembling hand pulls his lovie into his blanket, holding the small thing close to his chest. Like when he first entered the house, he hesitates looks at the man in front of him. Caregiver or not, his heart squeezes in his chest and chills spread down his arms. He only glances up at Bear, breaths coming out as shudders and minuscule flinches.

"He called you 'mama', Bear…" Buddha's voice is quiet as if the Little can't hear when he speaks under his breath.

"What?" Graves' eyes jump between Alex and Ricky. "He called me 'mama'? Are you sure? He said that?" The tone makes his stomach flip, whether it be confusion and concern, or anger, Alex's mind can't decipher the difference.

That earns a fearful wince from Caulder, pulling in on himself further and further until his head is away from Buddha and he's clutching the blanket like he's trying to hide. It should be impossible for a man his size to look so fucking small. His breath catches in his throat.

Is Bear angry? Was he right to anticipate that? It's too late anyway, there's no way for him to get out of this. No regression suppressants to take and make this all go away, he took too many pills once and barely felt aware and alive for days after, he can only guess overdosing on suppressants would feel worse. At least with oxy, there was a high. Short lived or not.

All he can see are lips moving and muffled sounds the more he tucks himself into the blanket. His own heart beats rapidly in his ears like a warning alarm. One more wrong move and he'd get hurt. For all he knows, he'd be left alone somewhere, all over again. There wouldn't be anyone to crawl to anymore, it would be his last strike. Just one more and he'd fail, they'd send him home and leave him there to rot. All because he misstepped, again.

He's done it before. One wrong thing said or done and no one was there to pick him back up. He was left alone, somewhere he just had to wait for someone to come find him. Bad behavior was harshly punishable, he learned that fast enough as a kid, then again when he thought he got to be safe. If it was on purpose or not, he was still left alone at a restaurant where his past Caregiver was supposed to be taking care of him. Where Rip was supposed to be taken care of him.

Alex never blamed the booze, not even when there were four bottles at the table… It was always his own fault. Why wouldn't it be? It was his fault when he was a kid, waiting for his drunken mother to pick him up from school. She made sure he knew it was his fault. For what? He never asked, he didn't need to.

Is it still his fault now?

He dips his head into the fluff of the blanket, hiding from every look he might get. The tears sit in his eyes, daring to wet the blanket where his head rested face down. Will he get to go somewhere safe, or is this his last misstep before he's kicked to the porch? Fear and guilt burns in his veins, coursing through him like flowing water. Not the calm of waves, but rushing rivers and waterfalls. The weak pain of it makes him drop the lovie from his chest, into his lap in the blanket.

What he's expecting never comes. There's nothing to brace for.

Instead, gentle arms lift him from the couch. Slow and steady. Alex doesn't hear the little grunt that came with the effort of lifting him, but he feels it in Bear's chest where his head is gently pressed. One arm wraps around him and supports him while the other settles him in the Caregiver's arms. Even with the hefty blanket covering him, Bear moves him with expertise only he's gained.

The rumbles of Joe's chest acts like the quiet humming. Words indistinguishable, yet, Alex can both feel and hear the familiar sound that's calmed him so many times before. Bear is right there, holding him with delicate touch. He's breakable, a fragile thing that has broken chips throughout it's frame, daring to break at every wrong move.

Caulder doesn't cry often, but every time he does, it's like a stab to the Caregivers' hearts when they hear the stifled cries. To Buddha, to Bear, tears meant it was serious to Alex. Even in his regressed state, it says something is wrong. Deeply so. It didn't matter if it was from external factors or his own mind going haywire. Something is wrong.

Gently, Bear sways with the Little in his arms, fully supporting him now that Alex settled just enough to not worry about him falling. Their training grants the ability to pick up the men they need to carry from the field, but the rush of adrenaline with a Little in distress, it eases the strain for a short while.

As the pulsing in his ears calms, gentle voices come back to him, rather than just the rumbling in Bear's chest where his ears is pressed to it. His side presses flush against the Caregiver's front, blanket wrapped around him carefully without once moving it into an uncomfortable position. It's warm, but Alex doesn't peek his head out of the blanket to look up at his carer.

With the same soft touch, Joe subtly adjusts Alex in his arms until he can tuck back the blanket just enough to see the Little's face. Tear streaked and red with the effort of not crying aloud. The Little can't meet his eyes, he can only watch Bear's lips as he quietly talks to him.

"'s okay, 'm here now, yeah?" Despite his hesitant look, he continues, "Mama's here." Graves' blue eyes stare down at him, small crows feet on the surrounding skin. He smiles, the smallest quirk of his lips.

Alex's gaze shifts from his carer's lips, to his eyes, back and forth from them over and over until he finally lets out the smallest cry. More than a whimper than anything else. Bear isn't mad. His hand searches the blankets until he finds a place to reach out of, the shaking hand latches to Bear's shirt.

"See? Right here, I said I'd be here." Bear mutters to him. He brings Alex a little closer with the arm tucked under his head and places a light kiss to the top of his head, in the same way he would always do for his little girl when she cried for someone too. He still slowly sways with him in his arms, never caring for the pain in his feet that would surely make itself apparent later.

Tears pool in the Little's eyes all over again, soaking a little spot of the fabric where Bear gently pressed him against himself. Every blink, more tears roll down the sides of his cheeks, wetting his hair in this position. Alex worries his lip between his teeth as he stares up at Joe, adams apple bobbing every time he chokes back a sob.

"I know…" Bear coos against his hair, messy and uncared for with the time between proper washes that Alex couldn't get to himself with such a clouded mind. He blamed it on brain fog at first, because he was supposed to drop, and then he did and he couldn't bring himself to do even the most basic self care tasks, not even the ones he prided himself on doing every day. It all fell away in the face of being so little.

The Little tugs weakly at Bear's shirt the same way he tugged at Buddha's, impatient and rushed, as if something could take him away. He's safe now, right here, in his Caregiver's arms. It's supposed to feel safe. But instead, all he feels is anxiety in his veins, burning him like fire, weakening his grip on everything, in his mind and physically in front of him.

"I'm right here." Is all Graves can say. What else is there to do but be there, when Alex can barely arrange his thoughts enough to let himself cry? He'll be there however long his boy needs, he's always been there. In Rip's absence, he was the only one that picked him up and made sure he was safe. He'll do it all over again, Alex has heard him say it, but something always screams that he will never be worth that much.

He presses his face firmly against the Caregiver's shirt, pulling himself just enough out of the blanket to feel the soft fabric of his shirt and be enveloped completely by Mama. His heart squeezes in his chest as he tries to pull in strained breaths. Crying hurts his throat, it makes his head throb, he doesn't want to cry, he doesn't want to sob, but it builds in his chest more and more.

"Let it out, bud… Not goin' anywhere." Bear promises him, his own voice shaking slightly at the sight in front of him. He bounces Alex ever so slightly, until he can get the little one into an actually comfortable position that's a little more upright, an arm under his thighs to support him. He won't let go.

It seems all he needed was the permission, as if someone told him he wasn't allowed to cry. Alex melts against Bear as he swallows a breath he promptly lets out in a near-silent sob. He nuzzles his face into the fabric as much as he can, stifling his sobs with his lip bitten between his teeth. He can't be loud, it was pressed into him since the time he was barely toddling around on his own two feet.

Loud meant he'd get in trouble, and that meant there would be a punishment he can still barely wrap his head around even decades later. The nonexistent threat still burrows deep in his brain, even if he knows no one will lay their hands on him for needing them. Not these days, they won't. He's lucky that it's a reportable offense, no one lays their hands on Littles when they're so goddamn small. Though, he didn't get that luck as a child, or even as an adult behind closed doors when it came to the simplest mistakes.

"I know, I know…" The Caregiver mutters as Alex's silent sobs turned into heaving breaths and loud cries far too familiar to wailing. It ignites a certain fire in Caregiver's, the need to fix whatever is broken and make it all better burns brighter with every cry, even if the source of the distress is nowhere to be found. Bear holds him closely, a hand coming to cup the back of Alex's head while the other keeps him up in his arms when Alex can't wrap his legs around him like usual.

Everything is scary for reasons Alex can't point out. Piling up and up until he can't remember the reason he drove here in the first place. It's weakness, he knows it is. His head spins and throbs and everything just gets so much bigger in front of him. No matter how tall he is, everything seems to tower over him and he can't do so much at pick up his head to face his Caregiver.

How long have all these things just kept piling and piling? Was it his head? The agony of every attack, every migraine? That's what they are, right? Every time he's doubled over in pain and wailed for help he wouldn't get? How long has it been since he dared to say he needed help? Before the TBI, before everything slapped him in the face? His head is too fuzzy and clouded to make a guess on whatever the reason he so frantically needed his Caregiver. It wasn't like he could just ask. There's a time and place to be so very Little, and this wasn't it. Why had he needed him in the first place? How much time is he wasting by simply being small?

Thirty years of life drilled into him that small meant bad. Any weakness, any drop, any fear meant he wasn't man enough. He wasn't something worth keeping when any look at his vulnerability said he could never be able to work the job he wanted. There could never be a place he would be useful or wanted. That was until Rip brought him under his wing and made him a core part of his team. No amount of drunken nights, fresh bruises, and nights of going to bed with an empty stomach while so small, could make Alex hate him. It reinforced his fears, his knowledge of how bad he was for being Little, but that was his superior, the only man who wanted to help him when he was shunned from any other position.

There's nothing he can do but cry, in one of the few spaces where his aches wouldn't earn another wound. Bear's shirt muffles his cries as much as a thin piece of fabric can, soaking up every tear, every little bit of snot and spit from the Little's open-mouthed sobs. Never once does Bear pull back for anymore than to make Alex take a full breath from where his face is tucked against his chest. The pained sounds Alex makes drives a knife through Bear's chest, or maybe the way he quiets to sniffles hurts more.

"What's got you worked up, bud? 'm right here, Mama's here, huh?" Graves softly speaks to him, with a gentle bounce to shift Alex into a more comfortable position. He leans down and gently places another kiss on Alex's head. Every use of the title Alex gave him loosens the Little's tense shoulders, one word at a time.

Alex doesn't have the ability to properly put it all together, nor the capacity to understand why everything was so scary. Bear knowing he thought of him as Mama was the last block on the trembling tower of fear, of every little problem he might've had over the last few weeks. The shame aches in his chest. He may be used to doing things wrong, but the reaction to it always hurt the most. Or, the reaction he imagined he'd get was always the worst. It rarely happened, there hadn't been a cruel hand the moment he stopped running Rip and went to Bear instead. No sharp tongue, or bruising grasp while he's scolded for every little thing under the sun.

His flushed, damp face peers up at the Caregiver, blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Caulder swallows around the lump in his throat, bringing in a shuddering breath. "'m tired…" Is all he chokes out, before the tears begin to flow again, barely able to do that much before he presses his face back into Bear's shirt. His shoulders shake with aggressive sobs.

What other way can he describe the immeasurable about of pressure on his body? Weighing down every part of him and pulling him further down, and down… Making him smaller and smaller, without a single reason why. His body shouldn't be doing this, he should be asleep right now, or doing anything else. Yet, he's sobbing in his Caregiver's arms because everything is so much. There's too many problems he can't name, problems with no solution, while everything keeps crumbling around him.

"Oh, baby…" Bear breathes out, the hand on the back of Alex's head moves to rub his back in slow circles. He sways with him slowly, watching as Alex painfully hiccups along with his sobs. There's nothing he can do, Alex knows that. This is a him problem, all of it is. The headaches, the unprompted drops, the pains, the exhaustion, the guilt for just existing. It's all him, things he can't say.

The room around them is silent, just him and Bear, standing in Buddha's living room while thing seem to just get worse and worse in Alex's head for no reason except he's scared. Is he scared of things he can't see, the same way he cried about the monsters in his closet? Or is it the real possibilities of getting hurt that he shouldn't have to be worried about while he's so damn small?

No Little should have to worry about what he does. No one should have to wake up wondering if they'd make it through the day, or die because of the ticking time bomb in their head… And yet, Alex does, without telling anyone. On top of the job, on top of being a father himself, with child support bills he's barely managing over the need for illegal suppressants to just stay aware. On top of everything, he's too goddamn small. He can't drop the weights he's carrying, so he sinks with them as they pull him further down.

"Mama…" Alex's voice cracks as he weakly calls out.

And for the first time, there's someone to respond with the delicate dare he needs. Alex never tends to cry for someone who's right in front of him, he'll bite his lip and hush until it's a 'good time' to bother his Caregiver. Breaking that habit is rough, and beyond the pure agony of the headaches, he's never called for someone like that, with desperation clear in his shaking voice. He drops old enough that he should be able to articulate whatever he needs, he knows that, but he needs Bear now.

He needs his Caregiver, and Bear simply holds him closer. He's there for him, in ways no one else had been. Even in ways Caulder knows he doesn't deserve.

"I got you, see?" Joe tilts up Alex's face ever so slightly, brows raised as he carefully studies every feature on his face, watching every tear drop when Alex blinks. His gaze bounces from each teary eye, the little one's lashes wet with what seems like hours of crying.

Fearfully, his blue eyes meet Bear's for the first time that night. The Little chews at his swollen lip, barely sucking in breaths when he sniffles. His chest tightens the more he watches Graves in the brief silence.

"I'm not leaving, you got that?" He softly mutters, gently pressing their foreheads together. "I'm here as long as you want me to be…" The hand on Alex's chin moves to cup his cheek instead, despite the clear ache in his arm the longer he supports Alex with just that arm.

Caulder's eyes close as Bear presses closer. He lets go of his lip, bitten red and raw, to take a shuddering breath. Graves won't leave, no matter how much he says he's right there, the Little worries if it might be the last time he ever is. Not just because he worries Bear would leave, but because Alex would, by his own choice or not. There's too much weight on his chest, too many problems stuck in his head, including what could kill him, god forbid he do so much as hit his head.

"'s you 'n' me, Alex. I'll always be there, you just call me. Night or day." The Caregiver promises, his thumb brushing away the tears dripping down Alex's cheek. "Hear me?" He sways slowly with Alex in his arms, doing his best to soothe the pain that would come with being on his feet with over two-hundred pounds on his front.

"Uh-huh…" He whispers, eyebrows pinched at the center. Every worry in his head spinning with reminders that things are still so wrong, no amount of comfort can fix this. It can't fix him. He wants Bear to be right, it's the two of them now. There's no one else to ice his wounds, no one else to pick him up and make it better.

"Do you wanna go home?" Bear asks him softly, pulling his head back slowly to look down at him properly. There wasn't a real home for Joe to go back to, nor was his house ever what Alex had preferred.

After the first night he heard Lena whisper-yelling at Bear through the door about how they couldn't keep him here, as if he was some kind of animal, Alex didn't come back. She might not be there now, but Alex won't sleep a wink in that house regardless. They always go Alex's place now, somewhere that was solely his space. Everything was as it should be. That's home, even if being alone makes him sick to his stomach some nights.

The little one responds with the same quiet 'uh-huh' as he did moments ago. He leans into the hand holding his face so gently, blinking up at Bear while he attempts to ease the cries that want to come out. His chest heaves with the effort of simple breaths, rather than pained cries. He wants to go home, not stand here anymore. The tears can wait until he's safe in his own bed, with his Caregiver, in his own place.

"I don't think Buddha will mind if we take his blanket, huh? 'm sure he's got plenty…" Joe grins at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.

It earns him the smallest laugh, rough around the edges and weak, but it's better than the borderline wails the Little made earlier. Anything is better than that heartbreaking sound.

"There's my boy." Joe's eyes soften further at the sight of the small smile at the corner of Alex's lips. He places another gentle kiss to his forehead with an overdramatic 'mwah' when he removes his hand from his cheek, anything to keep Alex's mind off everything else. It all stays there, heavy on his shoulders, but there's someone keeping him afloat and breathing. That's all he could ever ask for.

Slowly, Bear carries Alex just a few feet to the side before Alex sharply inhales, all of the Caregiver's attention quickly put on him, mouth open to speak when Caulder beats him to saying anything, eyes wide where they look down, then back up. Tears sit on his lashes, pooling on his waterline.

"Mama..?" The little one mutters, blue eyes look up at him again. Every time one drips down his face, Bear swipes it away. The calluses on his hands feel more welcoming than the soft touch of any medical professional that treated him while small, this is familiar, it's safe. It's Mama. It's Mama, but they can't go home yet because something is missing.

"Hm?" Bear prompts, his swaying faster in worry, watching the way Alex's eyes timidly flicker between his eyes the blanket, unable to keep eye contact the way he's been told he should be able to.

"Lovie…" His lip quivers, voice strained. In the blanket, his hands quickly try to find the plushie. The tears heneeds to go away keep resurfacing with the realization that he can't find the lovie he came here with. It's dark in the blanket, and Alex let his plush stay in the dark before realizing it was gone.

"We'll find 'em, okay? Can you tell me where lovie was when I got here?" Bear steadily asks, keeping a level head since Alex certainly couldn't do that like this.

"The b'anket..!" Alex's voice is more like a weak squeak than anything close to his typical tone. Desperation lines his words, everything blurring together again as he tries to find the lovie anywhere in his blanket. It should be here, it was there when Mama picked him up.

"Buddy," Bear begins, moving Alex just enough to loosen the blanket so they can find the missing plushie, "Lovie's gonna be in here, I promise. Can I look first?" His hand tugs a little at the blanket. There's no chance of getting Alex out of the blanket now, they both know he won't let Bear unravel him from the warmth he craves.

Despite Alex's worry, he pulls his hands up to his chest, nervously balled into fists. He nods slowly, watching as Bear moves to check the blanket. Using a careful hand, he checks around all the folds of the blanket. The Caregiver props Alex up with his leg so he can properly check the fluffy fabric for the little stuffed animal Alex needs before they can get any further. The keys on the floor didn't matter, the lovie did.

Like the games Bear played with his daughter, once his hand found the plush, he carefully pulled it from where it bunched up in the blanket with a gasp and smile.

"Lovie!" Bear exclaims, showing the plush safe and sound. The tiny recoil after the action goes unnoticed by Alex.

It's worth the moment of cringe when the Little smiles and quickly grabs it. He may regress a little older, but something about being treated like he really was small helped ease away the adult issues that burned into his head.

"We got this, huh? Lovie didn't disappear." Joe says as he settles Alex back into a good position to carry him. He adds a soft bounce to the movement.

Alex nods softly, staring at the little plush in his hands. His thumbs brush over the silky fabric on the borders of the lovie. For now, that little item is all that matters. He thought he lost it like he thought was going to lose his Caregiver over the title his mind associated with safe. Yet, he has both right here. With Bear gladly calling himself 'mama'—even with the hesitance Alex saw—and the plushie safe in his hands.

"Exactly." Bear hums, glancing around the house. Alex's own car keys remain on the floor as they step out of the door that Bear accidentally left slightly open when he entered. They don't matter now, Joe doesn't even note them before they leave. It's just Alex on his mind.

The quiet sounds of the night settle Alex on the short walk to the car. The gentle bounce of Bear's steps, the crickets, low hum of air conditioners in the cramped neighborhood, and familiar traffic, ease him. Like the white noise machine Alex recently bought, it quiets the shouting in his head. Maybe that was Bear's doing mostly, with Alex's head leaned gently onto the Caregiver's chest above his heart. Often, he sleeps just like that. Background noise than the steady, familiar heartbeat keeping him cradled in safety.

Alex only notices they made it to Bear's truck when the door opens and he's hoisted into the passenger seat. Rather than panicking, he just looks at his Caregiver with sad eyes the entire time he's being buckled in and tucked in. The comfort slowly goes away in the chill of the car, only the blanket there to keep him warm. One hand clutches it, while the other holds the lovie closer to him.

His eyes follow Bear the entire time, tracking him while he simply rounds the vehicle to enter on the other side. He knows he won't be left here, but it doesn't stop the thought. It certainly doesn't stop his chest from tightening either. Mama said it was just the two of them, that it would be okay. He has to believe it, what other option is there?

"Good boy." Bear grins at him, a hand reaching to ruffle the Little's hair. "Home now?" The car hums to life as the key twists in the ignition.

A few strands of hair fall into Alex's face when he nods. The sad, timid look never leaves his features. Painted in his gentle eyes, resting over his creased brow, bitten onto his bottom lip. He rocks slightly where he sits, unable to tear his gaze away from his Caregiver. If he looks away, will Bear's kind eyes turn to anger? Is the gentleness a lie, something to be thrown away once it's truly the two of them?

He can't take the words at face value, when a hand that had been kind to him once, turned into the one Alex was scared to reach for. It always turned out that way for him, no one to call, alone somewhere he can't pick himself up.

His mother did it, leaving him places just so she could get away from how 'needy' he was, as a child. Defenseless and confused. Alone. He always got an earful after he was picked up, or a cop found him wandering alone. Simply existing meant he was the problem child.

Then, Rip did it. The man Alex quite literally gave his body and soul to protect, left him. Being a SEAL only means so much when there's so much fuzz in his head, and fear in his veins. They had an agreement, signed papers and all, that Rip excused in preference of drinking until he couldn't stand—Alex wished he didn't understand the burden he was putting on his Caregiver. His mother was right, he would always cause problems.

Even with Bear, who continuously promised he would stay, Alex heard his and Lena's conversations behind the door. He wasn't wanted there either, she never wanted him there. No matter how many times Bear had quietly told her that he needed someone, Lena said to find a different place, as if Alex was a stray dog that could be just taken somewhere else. He can still hear the quiver in Bear's voice when Lena accused him of trying to replace their daughter…

Usually on car rides, no matter the hour or how poor the day was, Alex would talk and talk about nothing in particular. Whatever came to him next, it never had to make sense. Tonight, he silently leans his head on the window. No words sit on his tongue, not even the smallest hum. The vibrations of the car against his head makes him grit his teeth, but he doesn't pull back. Maybe he deserved that, the dull, throbbing ache in his head he's grown so used to. If it gets worse… Maybe he deserves that too.

"Alex?" Bear's voice calls out to him, low with concern as a hand comes to rest on one of Alex's twitching hands. "You with me?" He asks, glancing over to him. Bear's own timid hand unfolding the tense grip on the blanket to gently take the Little's hand in his own.

Immediately, Caulder's hand latches to Graves' with the same impossibly tight grip. His lips part to answer the question, but all that comes out is a weak whimper. He can't meet Bear's eyes, nor can he focus on anything outside the window of the moving car, all he can do is look down at lovie in blanket in his lap.

"Bud..? You here with me?" Bear mutters again, thumb brushing over Alex's knuckles.

His throat tightens, but all of the tears in his eyes feel like they dry the same second. He's not here, not safe the way he should feel. He wants to be able to drop everything, he needs to. It's not fair that other Littles could, when he still had to feel everything. No breaks, it all rushed over him, drowning him in all the things he can't even put a name on. It all just felt bad. Hesitantly, the Little shakes his head.

"Don' leave…" His voice is so small. Broken and desperate for something, anything. Alex's hand shakes with the tight grip he holds Bear's hand with. He can be promised everything, and still fear—know—he'll wake up with nothing. Bear is right there, but his throat keeps tightening and his chest hurts.

It's not fair. Why can't it just be fair?

"Baby…" Bear frowns, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at the Little clutching his hand. "'m not going anywhere, no ones leavin'. We're just going home," He begins, looking back to the street, "Going home where you have stuffed animals, your blankets, and good snacks… I'm staying the night, hm? You 'n' me, yeah? Safe and sound?" He draws out his explanation as far as possible, watching out of his peripheral vision for Alex's reaction.

There's no reason for Alex to believe that Joe specifically will leave him, he never did before. No emergency tore him away, they just went together. Hell, some nights when Alex couldn't stand to be alone, he didn't even leave the bed. He shouldn't be scared to be left alone, but he is. He's always scared.

"Wanna go home…" Alex's voice cracks as his chest heaves, breathless and forced to create any sound at all. It's not his house he wants to go to, and painfully, that's too clear. There's no home he can go to, is there? Not one he can point out, not in front of him or on a map. There's not even a time he can place that would ever feel close to home.

"We're goin' home, I'll hold you all night. Promise." Joe says gently, though the more broken Alex sounds, the more he gets the picture. He's holding broken pieces that he's fixed many times before, and he'll do it again. He'll do whatever is needed of him. That's what he does, as the team leader, as a friend, and as a Caregiver.

That.. that's the closest he'll get to home. Cradled against Bear's chest with the soft rumble of his voice playing in his ears. He won't be alone, at the very least. He can work with that. As he sniffles, he timidly looks up at his Caregiver.

"H-home…" The Little repeats after Bear, picking up his head from the window. Yeah, yeah… He wants that, bundled up in his—and now one of Buddha's—blankets, held safely like he could possibly be someone's world. Even just for a night, he wants to be someone's everything. All while entirely missing the way Bear looks at him like he's just that… His everything.

"Yeah, home, buddy." Graves gently squeezes his hand, feeling Alex's own grip loosen at the comfort of added pressure. The Little's shoulders ease down until he isn't uncomfortably scrunched in the seat, breaths coming in easier and easier.

The drive goes from agonizing, worrisome silence, to a calm, quiet space. Alex's eyes finally peer up every so often, looking at the racing lights going by as they drive past them, and the other cars around, despite the hour. It's not as scary anymore. He wants to go back home, Bear won't leave him there, and he has to trust that, he wants to.

Bear isn't Rip. Bear isn't his mother.

At some point, he turned to look at Bear rather than stare out the window when it began fogging with his warm breath on the cold glass. His back pressed against both the door and the seat as he leaned, eyes softly watching Bear's mind work at the simple task of driving. Though, on the route, it is almost complete darkness as they go through the wooded areas nearer to the beach.

With his eyes on his Caregiver, holding his hand tightly, Alex lays his head back and lets his eyes flutter closed. The quiet hum of the car and Bear's rhythmic, light tapping against the steering wheel brings his head to a more floaty space, like a bubble shielding him from himself. Maybe that was Bear's doing, though. He doesn't sleep, but the soothing sounds leave him on the verge of passing out by the time they get to the house.

It's safe. The delicate hands lifting him from the car are safe. The calming beat of Bear's heart as he's laid over his chest is safe. The small plush sits loosely in his hands, carefully tucked against Alex when Bear removes him from the car. Never as a child did Alex get that experience, being carried inside as he's on the verge of sleep. He had only gotten a rough shake to his shoulder to wake him enough to walk inside and inevitably pass out, sometimes not even in his bed or on the couch.

He doesn't have to worry about that at all now. Bear holds him with the most care he possibly can, as if he was handling a sleeping infant. A hand rests on the back of Alex's head, cradling it even as they get to the door. Joe's copy of the house key unlocking the door with ease, the sleepy Little propped up on his poorly balanced knee. All Alex does is blink up at him, resting in the warmth of Bear's touch.

He's safe.

"Sleepy boy…" The carer mumbles, pulling Alex back against him once the door clicked open. "Bath before bed time, or pajamas and a show?" He asks, letting the door slowly close behind them before locking it. Slowly, he moves to the couch, keys tossed onto the counter somewhere they'll find later.

"Show…" Caulder yawns. He falls back against the couch when Bear steadily sits him down and begins undoing the poorly laced shoes that were rushed to be put on a couple hours before. Alex rubs his eyes as he watches, the tears leaving his face puffy and warm.

"Atta boy." Graves nods, slipping Alex's shoes off. He settles on a knee to remove his own shoes, putting the pairs of shoes in a spot they won't get tripped on later when Alex inevitably stumbles in the dark to find a snack at horrendous hours of the morning. "Up?" He then asks, on his feet with his arms outstretched to lift Alex back up.

"Up." He nods with a firm pout on his lips. Only relaxing when Bear lifts him off the cold couch and he's met with warmth again. He nudges his head against the nape of his neck, settling into his arms.

"Don't get too comfy, still gotta get pjs, right?" Bear playfully pokes Alex's side, grinning when the Little tries to wiggle away from the ticklish feeling.

"Mama-!" Alex bumps his head against Graves' jaw.

"Gotta keep my cub awake, huh? You're gonna get all comfy in a minute." He chuckles softly, rumbling in his chest. Gently, he bounces Alex, readying him to start walking to the bedroom not too far.

The Little smiles sleepily at the nickname, heart squeezing in his chest but no longer from fear or hurt. Just love. He's so loved. If he can understand that or not, he is.

"That's what I thought…" Bear hums, walking with Alex to the bedroom. The blankets are rustled from the sleepless night Caulder's had so far, a pillow on the floor, one of Bear's hoodies thrown at the end of the bed… The room is a mess, dirty clothes strewn about, even his plushies knocked to the floor. And yet, at some point, for whatever reason, Alex threw on jeans of all things, to run somewhere away from here.

As Alex is sat down, the little lovie is firmly pressed to his chest while Bear begins to work at unraveling the large blanket from Alex's slumped frame. The space fills with warm hums, keeping away the dark clouds that dare to fill Alex's head at the slightest bit of silence. It's safe. Never once did Alex ask Bear to keep track of triggers or things that upset him, the Caregiver did that all himself. He never had to ask Bear to be mindful of him, he already was.

Caulder holds the lovie delicately in his hands. However, not so delicately where his teeth bite at the ear of the bear plush. The fabric grows damp where he chews it between his teeth. He watches Bear with big, soft eyes, rocking slowly to the humming.

"Be gentle, bud…" Bear warns as he glances up at Alex, and the plush's ear bitten between his lips. There's no cruelty to his voice, nowhere near firm. More affectionate than anything. The lovie had been his idea, after all. He'd seen the nights Alex struggled away from him. The little thing had been covered in Bear's cologne, it no longer needs that when Bear is really there to hold him at night, but it'll always be Alex's favorite stuffed animal.

The blanket falls away from him, only gently rested over him for the brief moment the Caregiver stands to retrieve something akin to pajamas in the messy space of Alex's room. The dresser is almost bare, aside from a pair of light blue pajamas with clouds spotted along it. Almost too soft. Alex's eyes follow him the entire time he's away.

"These?" Bear prompts, narrowly avoiding tripping over a t-shirt as he crosses the bedroom floor. He takes it as a yes when Alex immediately reaches out towards the set, or maybe just reaches for him.

Alex calmly watches as his uncomfortable jeans are replaced with the warm cotton pants, moving the way Bear needs him to in order to dress him. The shirt was the problem. With the plush set briefly aside, he should be able to let Bear tug the shirt over his head, but he just watches. He doesn't move at all to make it easier, he makes it worse with his hands holding the bottom of his shirt. Eyes going from wide and curious to hesitant, slightly squinted while he looks at his Caregiver.

"I know, baby, but it's just pjs. Mama can close his eyes and you can do it?" Joe suggests, hands back and clear in Alex's vision. He won't move, and he makes sure Alex knows that.

"Closed 's okay…" Alex's small voice croaked, hoarse with all of the hours of tears that day. He watches Bear closely until his eyes close. Then, and only then, does he remove the tear-stained shirt. His eyes look at his own skin, the tiny bit of excess fat on his tummy, and then the large, stretched scar over his lower abdomen. Bear knows it's there, but it's one of those nights… See him, but don't look.

His finger twitches as it follows the length of the old scar, then a couple of surrounding stretch marks. The whole time, he keeps taking glances like he's scared of what Bear would say to him. There had only ever been well mannered questions, never cruel jabs or harsh remarks. That, he's thankful for… The tiny ones on his chest don't matter, or at least were never questioned.

"Alex?" Graves hums to him. "You almost done, buddy?" Worry laces his voice yet again.

In response, Alex quickly throws the damp t-shirt to the side and replaces it with something actually comfortable. His hands immediately seek the comfort of the lovie at his side. He grunts to announce he's done, every scar covered and safely sealed away so he doesn't have to see it himself. He's too small for all the weight on his shoulders. Bear can take it away, he always does. Or, at the very least, tries his best to.

"There ya go." The Caregiver coos, his smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "Hey, sweet boy…" He softly says, ruffling Alex's hair again.

Caulder's eyes sparkle, looking up at Bear as he straightens his hair out again. He leans into the touch as it softens. It's okay. He pulls in a deep breath before he nips at the lovie's ear again, trying to regulate the fast uptick in fear at the small, simple task of just getting comfy.

"Bed time and show?" Bear asks with raised eyebrows, his gentle grin never leaving his face. His hand brushes out the curly hair before he gives Alex a light pat on the shoulders, eyes soft where he looks down at his Little.

There's a beat of silence, Alex never responding but quickly making it his mission to get into the big bed before Bear can. A smile spreads on his face as he turns to face Bear. The blankets are all horribly messy, he's barely under them and, lord, do they need to be re-tucked into the frame. But, that smile, with the lovie's ear still between Alex's teeth, is enough to make Graves chuckle. If not at the action, than the sweet smile his Little gives him.

"Are we being silly?" Bear coos, arms crossed playfully over his chest. Really, he should change his shirt and pants, but before he does, he presses a knee onto the bed and leans over to press a kiss to the side of Alex's head. "Do you need to get the sillies out before bed?" He sits as he pulls back slightly.

"Nuh-uh." Alex is quick to say, dropping the lovie into his lap. He squeaks when Bear wiggles his fingers by his side, threatening to tickle him again. "No!" He insists, smile growing as he lightly kicks away.

"Are we sure?" Joe chuckles, pulling his hand away. His own breaths coming in easier when his Little smiles so brightly.

"Yeah!" He nods quickly, one of his canine teeth poking out from his lips when he bites at the already swollen skin. Alex's quiet giggles fill the space, lighting up the room beyond the moon peeking in through the windows.

"Alright then… But I gotta get comfy so we can get comfy, okay? Can you wait for Mama?" Over the course of the last couple of hours, the title began to come out with less and less hesitance. It makes Alex smile all over again, nodding softly even if he didn't catch all the words. Him, Mama, comfy… That's all he needs.

Bear only takes a moment to steal something clean from the folded laundry on the far side of the room, getting out of the wet shirt and scratchy jeans and slipping into a pair of Alex's shorts and one of his own, stolen, shirts. The gentle humming resumes as he tends to the blanket problem… Tugging everything to the correct sides and firmly tucking Alex into the bed as he's fixing everything, then, he places Buddha's heavy blanket over the fixed bedding.

"Cozy?" He glances at Alex, hands settled on his hips as he takes in the way Alex cuddles into all of the blankets. His sheets, then a warmer blanket, then a comforter, and now the big blanket. The Little looks so much smaller like that, even with the events of the day taking a toll on his body, he looks so, so small.

All he gets in reply is a copy of his own humming, and a small nod where Caulder has sunken into the bedding. Bear simply grins and climbs into the bed, TV remote in hand where he swiped it off the bedside table.

"C'mere…" He rumbles, leaning against the headboard once the pillows are situated enough. The one on the floor can stay there for now. What's more important, is getting Alex comfy, then getting him to rest. One arm opens to bring his Little in close.

Alex doesn't need the prompting whatsoever. As soon as Bear is what looks like content enough where he's situated, Alex immediately presses himself into his side. The little lovie sits on the side, hands free so he can grab at Bear's clean shirt. His head tilts up, chin pressing into Bear's chest, and just looks at him. Moonlight reflects in his eyes.

"Hey, darlin'…" Graves murmurs, brushing through Alex's hair gently. With care, he fixes the knots in the curly hair.

He blinks softly up at him, before he shifts positions to be comfortably tucked against his side, cheek squished against Bear's chest. The heavy blankets get pulled up closer and closer until his shoulders are completely covered. A little shimmy makes it known that he's comfortable.

"That good?" Joe hums to him, his hand still threading through the Little's hair.

Grumbling in response, Alex just cuddles closer. One leg over one of Bear's so he can't possibly leave. A hand grabs a fist full of his Caregiver's shirt, holding on closely as the television clicks on. The brightness makes him flinch, and the Caregiver grunt with the same reaction.

"Sorry, baby…" Bear huffs, rapidly clicking the button to lower the brightness. A sigh leaving him as soon as the painfully bright screen is gone.

"'s okay." The little one murmurs, his eyes fixed on TV while Bear looks for something regression-appropriate. Alex's soft, small voice barely above a whisper. Bear replies with a quiet hum of 'thank you', tucking his arm carefully around Alex, who immediately melts into the touch.

After a few minutes of clicking through show options, Bear settles on something he's seen Alex watch before, something about mermaid kids and a school… The completion bar was only a few seconds in anyway. He's not sure what's going on, but it'll be turned off whenever Alex falls asleep anyway. He settles more comfortably in bed, holding his Little closer.

Caulder's sleepy eyes watch the show for only a few minutes, and hums along with the intro tune, before he presses his head further against Bear's chest. For the first time that night, his heart doesn't feel like it's beating out of his chest, his lungs fill fully with air… He's warm.

"Goodnight, bud…" Bear near-silently whispers. He sets the remote aside, and gently uses that hand to brush over Alex's scruffy cheek. Soft eyes watch as Alex closes his eyes and begin to drift to sleep.

A small smile sits on his lips while he falls asleep, the low rumble of Joe's chest soothing him further. He sleeps wrapped in warmth, cuddled up to his Caregiver exactly how he should be. Warm, safe, and loved.

As promised, Bear never leaves his side. Not when he tosses and turns for several minutes at a time, he stays there, keeping the bed warm and Alex safe. The kid's show gets turned off, and replaced with something more interesting to Bear, tree-houses and log cabins… Something to keep his mind occupied while he stays awake, just as a precaution in case Alex needs him.

And it was needed.

On the fifth position shift of the last hour, low, pained grunts came from the Little beside him. Haze heavy in his head, Alex simply turns again and presses his head against Bear's side, in a significantly different position than he was before. This one curled up far more, holding his head between his hands, eyes wide as he stares at nothing…

He doesn't do anything but whimper in pain. A horrible throbbing fills his head, ears ringing until he can't make out a thing from the TV show, or anything said to him. Instead, his nails dig into his head and he cries out.

Prying hands do nothing when sharp agony fills his body. 'Headache' can't describe the pain, migraine doesn't feel close enough either, it's far past that. Even with pain, Alex never cried out so loudly, not as much as Bear hears from him now.

Confused babbles and cries fall from his lips. It was all just fine moments ago, it had been okay. Why isn't it okay? It should be okay. Alex was smiling not even three hours ago. Why is his baby crying?

And now all Bear hears is broken babbles of, "it hurts!" over and over until the room goes quiet and Alex goes terrifyingly slack.

#classification au #six 2017 #SIX agere #SIX (tv)#alex caulder #alex caulder whump #joe bear graves #joe graves #richard “rip” taggart #ricky “buddha” ortiz #six show #age regression #agere #agere fic #fandom agere #agere fanfic

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