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something is wrong with adaine. she shivers and clutches boggy closer, wedged deep under the bottom bunk. though many objectively worse things have happened to her since the start of spring break, the echo of her sister’s words still follow her, whispering in chorus i didn’t really take care of you. it shouldn’t matter; adaine takes care of herself. she’s read aelwyn’s thoughts, knows how guilty her sister feels about their childhood, and understands that really, the horrors of her upbringing were their parents’ fault. she knows about the cycle of abuse thanks to jawbone, and rationally understands how her sister was manipulated. but stuck under her bed and shaking from something that is close to but a panic attack but not quite the same, adaine kind of wishes her sister had been there. she’s struggling to remember why she should feel proud of the ways she’s learned to look after herself.
on the whole, adaine is doing remarkably well, really. she has a job, she protects her party, she does her best to solve problems for her sister in a dozen different ways even though aelwyn’s moved out. isn’t that enough? desperate, some emotion rises from deep in her chest to choke up her throat. it feels dark and heavy, too frightening to interrogate. even crammed as far under her bed as she can get, where nobody can possibly reach her or scold her or shame her, she can’t look at it. instead she shivers and sniffles, wiping her nose and eyes on her sleeve, wishing she could get up the nerve to message one of her friends for help.
she imagines what it would look like if her party came for her: fabian sweeping in, bundling her in his battle sheet; fig singing something to her at low volume or chatting about her day; riz bringing her tea at exactly the right temperature and helping support her shaky hands; kristen wrapping her a big hug and casting cure wounds just to cloak her in magical warmth; gorgug letting her lean against him and borrow his headphones. she’s overcome by a longing so severe that she spasms and sobs, crushing in around boggy. he croaks in protest so she readjusts, tucking one hand up near her mouth and curling her legs in under her.
she’s never wanted anything so badly. the truth of it hurts. involuntarily, she imagines it; being cradled against a warm body and allowed to cry, maybe even having her hand held or her hair stroked. revulsion rises in her, almost as strong as the longing—it’s horrible. unseemly. unsafe. all she wants, and it’s the one thing that will hurt worst. what would her party even say, if they could see her this weak and useless? they couldn’t possibly want her like this. it’s a miracle they want her at all; god knows her family never did.
she misses the noise of the door creaking open, but even through the haze of tears and absent her glasses, adaine tracks the crack of light on the floor growing wider. she tries desperately to stifle her snotty breathing and pull herself together.
“adaine? hey, kiddo,” jawbone’s voice precedes his heavy footsteps as he ducks in through her doorframe, “you in here?”
adaine stays as silent as she can. jawbone’s hearing is better than her poor stealth, but he might leave her alone if he thinks it’s in her best interest. unfortunately, boggy betrays her by letting out a loud croak, alerting jawbone the way he’s supposed to when her panic attacks get bad.
“alright,” he sighs, and she can hear him settling down on the floor, probably cross-legged, “you don’t have to come out from under there, okay kid? but i’m gonna wait here however long you need, in case you want to.”
adaine sniffles pathetically, pushing her fingers harder against her mouth. it’s more than a little tempting to a part of her that seems only to get louder, the idea of crawling out and curling up in jawbone’s lap (daddy, something smaller inside of her whispers, immediately quashed), having just a bit of the comfort she’s longed for her whole childhood. it’s just so frightening. she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, let alone what he’ll do if he sees her like this. she’s afraid that he’ll look at her and somehow just know about—whatever it is that’s happening to her, about her weakness. and what if he kicks her out, or thinks that she can’t protect her party? he might think she’s incompa- incomp- in- not able to be brave and take care of everybody. she shakes her head against the thought, squeezing her eyes shut. one finger squirms into her mouth, up to the first knuckle.
it gets more and more difficult to think about anything else as jawbone continues to breathe steadily, whistling a little bit on each exhale. but he makes good on his promise and doesn’t move at all, even while she makes all sorts of little crying noises under the bed. he doesn’t grab her, or say that she has to get out, or tell her to pull herself together because really, adaine, this behavior is unseemly, and maybe that means he wouldn’t kick her out of the house either. she thinks again about that hug, imagining it really hard while she squeezes boggy. boggy doesn’t like being squished this time either, and tries to squirm his way out of her arms. she loosens them and takes a big breath.
“what do you think, boggy?” she whispers, lisped a little bit around her finger. he looks up at her with huge, froggy eyes. she takes his input under careful consideration, nodding her head seriously. “okay,” she says under her breath, “okay.”
she has to let boggy go in order to turn herself over onto her stomach, and then she has to pull her finger out of her mouth to wiggle her way out from under the bed. her hand’s all wet and her face is all gross and there’s no way that jawbone doesn’t hear her coming with all the noise she’s making as she squirms out into the open, but he doesn’t make any move towards her at all or change his expression even a little bit until she reaches out for him.
“c’mere kiddo, i’m so proud of you,” he soothes as she grabs for the sleeve of his sweater, guiding her into a hug. “you did so well.”
adaine thought she was cried out, but her tears start right back up. she can’t keep them silent anymore, and soon she’s letting out rasping, jagged sobs into jawbone’s sweater. he doesn’t shush her at all, just stays steady and rubs her back while she gets it all out, until she’s just making little hitching breaths against his shoulder. the exhaustion hits near-instantly as the panic passes, and she collapses her full weight into her foster dad.
“you wore yourself out there, huh?” jawbone says, and she nods shallowly. she doesn’t want to lift her head off his shoulder. without all that gross fear in the way, it’s hard not to let the longing part take over, and she’s too tired and fuzzy to fight it. she puts her knuckle back in her mouth and closes her eyes, leaning further into him.
“hey, hey, we should try to get some fluids back into you before you go to bed, kid, though i respect the sleep hustle. you need me to carry you?” being carried sounds amazing right about now. she nods, squinting at him through reddened, painful eyes, and reaches up with the hand not currently in her mouth.
“okay, we’re gonna try a piggyback ride, hey, how about that? we’ll have to get something for that,” he mutters to himself, tracking the hand still in her mouth, “one of those chew things maybe. should just get a whole bunch; all your friends are gonna want one if you’ve got one. okay, alright, problem for later. let’s getcha situated.”
somehow, through mechanisms beyond her understanding, adaine ends up clinging to the fur of jawbone’s back as he carries her out to the kitchen, boggy trailing behind them. if any of her foster siblings poke their noses out to check out the procession, they’re polite enough not to comment. he settles her down on the kitchen counter, where boggy makes his way back up into her lap. she manages a wan smile and pats him gently, without rhythm, then kicks her dangly feet about.
“juice, cocoa, or water, adaine?” jawbone asks her from the fridge. she carefully considers her options.
“apple?” she asks as nicely as she can, petting over boggy’s back.
“sure, we’ve got apple juice. c’mere sweetheart, why don’t i get you a straw and you drink it at the table?” he pours it in her favorite cup, the purple one she always uses at mealtimes, and digs out a bendy straw from lydia’s section of the kitchen. adaine hopes she doesn’t mind that it’s being used on someone like her instead of being saved for when it could be actually useful.
jawbone sets down the juice on the table, then picks her up and swings her into one of the seats. she reaches out to grab the cup with both hands, trying with some difficulty to pull it closer to her without spilling any of the contents over the side, and jawbone’s hand twitches like he’s thinking of reaching out to help her. she’s determined though, and does it all by herself, something she’s more than a little proud of. it only takes one sip for her to realize just how thirsty she is.
“woah, hey, slow down a little there kiddo,” jawbone gentles as she attacks the straw. she looks at him balefully, not pleased with being told what to do, and he chuckles. “yeah, yeah, i know. hey, kid, i hate to ask, now we’ve got you all settled, but i’ve gotta check in: do you know what’s going on right now?”
at the reminder of whatever it is that’s wrong with adaine, she recoils into herself. of course it would be stupid to think he might not notice. she’s been weak and bad and she’s cried in front of daddy and now he’s going to kick her out and she’ll never get to share a room with wynnie again or see her friends anymore because she’ll be homeless, just like her old mum and dad said she would be. her lower lip wobbles as she tries not to start crying again and she pushes away her juice. she wasted the cup and the juice and the straw and if she starts to cry she’s going to waste even more and then he really won’t love her.
“hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re alright,” jawbone soothes, “you’re not in trouble, nothing’s wrong with you. you’re my brilliant kid, i’m not gonna be mad. listen, i can’t tell you what you’re experiencing, but there’s something called age regression i’m just gonna put out there, and you can let me know if it’s sounding close or not, alright? it’s a coping mechanism for people who have gone through a lot of trauma when they were kids, like you and aelwyn, and their bodies need a way to cope with it. and sometimes to do that, their brains take them back to when they were younger, to a time they felt safe and taken care of. do you feel like you might be feeling a little bit like that?”
adaine can’t stop shaking. despite her very best attempts, her eyes start welling up. she doesn’t know if she was ever safe as a little kid at all, so to make what jawbone’s saying make sense, she would have to be really little, and she can’t do that. she can’t be that because she can’t take care of anybody like that, and her party needs her and wynnie needs her and she has to go to work and to classes and everybody needs big strong adaine, so she can’t be a little baby. but even as she wants to say no, shake her head until jawbone believes her, she knows that would be lying. she hates lying because it always gets her in trouble, and then her old parents like to remind her that only bad people ever lie, even though wynnie lied all the time and they still loved her. and jawbone has given her juice and she doesn’t want to go to bed without supper and she doesn’t want him to hurt her so she shouldn’t lie, even if that means he might kick her out or keep her from ever seeing her party again. so, trembling and looking at boggy, she nods.
“thank you for telling me, adaine. it’s a totally safe way to cope, even though i know it might feel kinda scary right now. you’re being so brave; i’m really proud of you kiddo. do you think you can try to drink a little more juice before we get you up to bed?”
adaine doesn’t feel brave. adaine feels very, very scared and sick to her tummy and none of it makes any sense at all. “‘llowed to stay?” she asks, even though she doesn’t want to remind him that he could make her go, because she has to know.
“oh, kid. of course you’re allowed to stay; you’re my daughter. i love you no matter how old you are. c’mere sweetheart, can i give you another hug?” adaine sniffles and nods, and is scooped up into jawbone’s lap where she finally gives up trying not to cry again. “sandra lynn and i are so, so lucky to have you, kiddo. we think you’re wonderful and kind and smart, and we see how you’re such a good friend to your party. your parents didn’t know what they had while they had it. we’re never gonna kick you or your sister out, not even if you mess up or have a hard day. you’re still kids, adaine. it’s okay to need a way to process all the things y’all have been through, and I’m just grateful it’s safe and healthy. we’re not leaving you. it’s okay to need help; we want to be here to help you with this.”
adaine buries her face straight back into jawbone’s fur. the idea is so overwhelming she doesn’t think she can stand to look at it right now. it hurts to be told she’s allowed help; nobody’s said anything like it to her before. a big part of her wonders what lies she’s managed to convince him of, that he thinks she’s smart or nice or a good friend. she knows that he’ll have to find out the truth eventually, and then that other shoe will drop. the littler part of her though, the one in control right now, doesn’t care about how many lies it takes or the consequences, so long as it means daddy will keep holding her. she clings tighter as he rubs her back and bounces her a little bit, up and down.
they stay there a long, long time, jawbone breaking the hug occasionally to get her to take a sip of her juice. at some point, sandra lynn must come home, because adaine can hear the clatter of her bow on the hallway table and jawbone’s hand lifts off her back to one-hand sign some stuff in the direction of the doorway. adaine’s too worn-out to care though, doesn’t even look in her sort-of-foster-mum’s direction or wave even though it would be the polite thing to do. she might ghost in briefly to kiss the top of adaine’s head, but she’s gone before adaine can judge whether or not it really happened.
by the time all the juice is gone, adaine is coming in and out of a proper doze, not even trancing. her fingers go straight back up into her mouth, while her other hand comes up to rub at her still-itchy eyes. jawbone makes some soothing, shushing noises at her when he stands, keeping her tucked to his hip, but she still lets out a protesting whine.
“you’re okay, we’re going to bed,” he whispers, twisting so that he won’t hit her against the doorframe. adaine is past the point of understanding what jawbone is saying, but soothed by the rocking motion of his stride. she leans her head back along his shoulder and lets her eyes shut again.
they make their slow way up the stairs, jawbone wincing once when her foot collides with the banister, though she barely stirs. as he heads down the hallway, another door cracks open, and kristen’s anxious, freckled face peeks out.
“hey kid, thanks for gettin’ me earlier,” he whispers, extending his hand to ruffle through her hair. she looks up at him with huge, watery eyes and he’s struck again by just how young they all are to have gone through so much, to take care of one another like this. he’s so proud of them, even as it aches to see them defend one another like they’re the only people in the whole world they can trust.
“is she okay?” kristen asks, careful to match his volume. shuffling from further behind her lets him know that at least one of his other kids, probably fig, is listening in.
“she’s just fine, her brain and body are just working through some of the things y’all have been through right now, and that can be real tough,” he says, for all their benefit. “if she wants to talk about more, that’ll be her choice, but you did good by reachin’ out to me. you girls gonna be okay for the night?”
the door opens a little further to reveal fig, now that it’s clear the jig is up. he’s still not convinced there aren’t a couple more kids somewhere; he knows that riz can hide like nobody’s business. regardless, he keeps his attention on the two in front of him. these two, at least, are definitely his.
“yeah, thanks jawbone,” fig says. she’s trying to seem unaffected, but he can see the way she’s anxiously chewing on the end of her braid, eyeing adaine like she might vanish if fig stops keeping watch.
“alright, well i’m gonna go get adaine set up for bed, and you can message or holler if you change your minds, alright?” they both nod, kristen so enthusiastically he worries her head might fall right off her shoulders. “night, kids.”
“goodnight, uncle jawbone!” they call in near-unison as he turns away.
he continues up the spiral staircase to adaine’s tower room, nudging open the door wide enough for boggy to squeeze wetly through behind him, before depositing her gently on the bed. she’s still in her day clothes, which can’t be super comfortable, but she’ll manage. he does take the time to pull her arms out of her jean jacket and hang it on the end of the bed, so that she’ll be able to find it easily in the morning. then he pulls the covers up over his daughter, tucking her underneath them and leaving just enough space for boggy to hop up beside her face. he probably has some damage control to do after this, and at least a couple more stuffed animals to order—he thinks, briefly, of all the children’s toys he got for adaine to celebrate the birthdays he’d missed, though he has no idea where she’s put them—but he thinks he’ll be alright. he’s got a great family.
the last thing adaine registers is feeling warm and looked after. she sighs contently and slips again into a dreamless sleep.