Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Winter break had come and gone quickly. At least it felt that way for Trey. 

Between helping his parents out at their bakery for the holiday rush, dealing with his mischievous little siblings, and setting up for family festivities, every day felt like it rushed by quickly. He almost felt relieved to be back at school. It somehow managed to feel more like a break than being at home. 

Above all, he was excited to come back and see Riddle.

Despite being within walking distance of each other during the break, Riddle's mom still held an iron-clad grudge against Trey and his family, so getting to see each other was out of the question. They couldn't even text with each other because Riddle was horrified she would sneak up on him or go through his things. 

Needless to say, he had missed him. He didn't think of himself much as the romantic type. Getting so upset over being separated for such a short period of time seemed foolish, but it had been the longest amount of time they had spent apart since they started dating, so it definitely felt odd. 

When he got back to Night Raven though, Riddle seemed a little … off. 

It was fairly normal for Riddle to seem a little on edge after getting back from his mom's house, but he knew what to expect with that. 

Riddle would get a little more mean, irritable in a way you could just tell he was ready to snap. Heartslabyul students learned to dread the first handful of days back from a holiday.

If he was considered a tyrant usually then in times like these he was more like a bloodthirsty dictator. No rule could ever be left unchecked. His rage was kept fueled by all the students who would make simple mistakes as they were attempting to adjust back to life at the dorm. Something that brought great frustration to all the students.

Trey hoped that this time would be different. After his overblot, Riddle had been doing so well at keeping his temper in check, but you never really know when it comes to his relationship with his mother. She was capable of setting off his temper in ways no one else could, and Riddle was never one to disrespect his parents, so that anger had to redirect somewhere. 

He was right, this time was different. He couldn't take any pleasure in that fact though. 

It was hard to describe, but Riddle seemed almost … lifeless, at least compared to his usually active self.

No light seemed to reach his dull gray eyes. That lingering irritability was still present, but it wasn't that tightly wound, about to snap kind of agitation, more like a string that had already snapped long ago.

He could see the way Riddle's eye would twitch, the way his brows would crease together, but there were none of his signature blow-ups. There was no yelling or threatening or collaring. At most, he would give strongly worded scoldings, but never anything more. 

Trey thinks that's what's really bothering him, the quietness.

He really only spoke if it was something related to his dorm leadership responsibilities. Trey barely got anything out of him when he attempted to start up some small talk. He wasn't rude or dismissive, but it was like trying to talk to someone that just got off a twelve-hour shift at a grueling job. 

He was exhausted. That was clear. 

Trey tried to chalk it up to that. He knew Riddle's mom had a tendency of making him study late into the night. He figured that once the redhead got some rest he'd be at least a little better. That's why when he saw Riddle scurry off to his room the second all the dorm’s preparations for the new semester were done, he chose not to go and bother him. 

Well, at least not for a while. When Riddle still hadn't reemerged hours later he got a little concerned. 

He knew Riddle had skipped lunch as he had been busy all the early afternoon, and he had a good feeling Riddle probably didn't eat a decent breakfast before he left home. The thought of him skipping dinner as well worried Trey. Skinny as the boy already is, he really shouldn't be skipping meals. 

Trey finally decided to go check on him. Mainly to make sure that he was doing okay, but also to see if he could convince him to come join him for dinner. It would be nice to just be able to sit down with him and talk for a minute. Maybe he would feel more up for conversation if it was just one on one and not in a bustling dorm hall. 

He made his way up to Riddle's room. The activity in the halls of the dorm had died down, most students having fully settled back into their rooms. Once he reached Riddle's door, he noticed that there was no light coming from the cracks around his doorframe. 

He felt a little bad, maybe he shouldn't bother him if he's sleeping. He probably needs it, but then again, sleeping on an empty stomach was no good either. That was only bound to make the housewarden more cranky. 

He hesitantly and softly knocks on the door. “Hey Riddle, I just wanted to check and see if you're getting hungry.” 

… Nothing. 

Maybe he had left the dorm while Trey wasn't looking. He would be surprised if he hadn't noticed Riddle coming out of his room though. 

He knocks a little harder. “Riddle, are you in there?”

… Nothing.

He sighs. Curiously, he reaches for the doorknob, rattling it just in case. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. He knows Riddle wasn't allowed to lock his door back home, he probably formed a habit of not doing so over the break. 

He opened the door a tiny bit. “I'm gonna come in, alright?” After waiting for a short moment and hearing no response, he pushed the door fully open, gazing into the room. 

Aside from the light sweeping in from the hallway, it was pitch black. All the curtains were drawn, there were no lamps, or candles, just darkness. 

The open door let in just enough light that Trey could make out the dark outline of a curled up ball under the sheets. The strands of red hair peeking out from the blanket gave it away; Riddle was still in here.

“Riddle, are you alright?” He spoke, closing the door behind him and pulling out his phone screen to use as a makeshift flashlight. 

Nothing. 

He walked closer to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. Riddle remained exactly as he was when he found him. 

“You really shouldn't sit in the dark like this. That can't be good for you.” He leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp to the lowest setting. 

Riddle whined sharply and quickly, pulling the blanket up even higher so no trace of him was showing. 

“Do … you have a migraine or something? I can take you to the nurse, or I think I have some pain-relievers somewhere in my room.” 

“Nnn” Riddle groaned. Trey couldn't discern if that was a yes or a no.

“You know it's probably because you skipped lunch. Come on, you need to eat something.” 

Nothing. Actually, almost a concerning amount of nothing. The way Riddle was completely still freaked him out a bit. 

“Riddle?”

… “Don’ want to” he mumbled. 

Now that's very strange. 

Yes, Riddle could at times be described as whiney; it's never that kind of whiney. In fact, if a student ever gave that kind of response to him, they would receive a finely worded lecture on stepping up and acting their age. It was completely strange to hear Riddle say something like that. 

“You don't wanna eat?” 

He didn't get a verbal response but saw the blanket shake in a way that looked like he was shaking his head no. 

“You have to be hungry. It's really not good for you to tr-”

“Go away” he mumbled again, slightly louder this time. 

Once again, he felt like it was strange. Yes, it isn't out of character for Riddle to speak harshly like that, but he couldn't help but feel the tone was off in some way. He must really be sick or something. 

At Trey's lack of action, Riddle groaned again, adjusting himself in the blanket so that he was curled into an even tighter ball. 

Trey sighed and stood up. “Alright, I'll leave you be for now, but in a little while I'm gonna bring you something to eat. I can't let you starve yourself.” He shuts off the lamp but makes his way to the windows, opening up one of the curtains. “You're not gonna sit in complete darkness though.” 

He swears he hears Riddle grumble again, but it's so soft he can't exactly tell. As he walks out the door he speaks. “I'll see you in a bit.” 

Nothing. 

He stood by the door for a moment after he had left the room. A sense of uneasiness coursed through him. 

He had seen Riddle power through all kinds of illness, never one to let himself fall behind. Hell, one time Riddle had a dangerously high fever and Trey still had to bribe and coerce him to get him to agree to lay down for a moment. For him to be willingly resting in bed it must be something really horrible. 

Leaving him alone really didn't feel like the right move, but if that was what Riddle was adamant he needed, then Trey didn't want to fight too hard against it.

He had a little bit of faith that if things did get really bad, Riddle would call him to ask for help, but he still didn't want to go far. If he had left to go eat at the dining hall and Riddle called him, it would take a good while to actually make it back to the dorm, and he wasn't comfortable with the thought of that. 

Lucky for him, he managed to find Cater in the lounge l, who was getting ready to leave for the dining hall anyway, so he just told him to pick up whatever looked good for him and something light for Riddle. 

He sat in the lounge and waited, both for Cater to come back and for Riddle to message him with some severe medical emergency. 

Hints of guilt danced at the edges of his consciousness. He knew that if Riddle was in his proper mind and was aware Trey was doing this, he would be displeased. 

Riddle hated when he did this kind of thing, when he “treated him like a helpless child”, which was Riddle’s way of saying “when he worried about him”. 

Trey knew there was a disconnect between them. 

Riddle was good at caring for others but didn't really know how to accept any kind of real care for himself. 

His upbringing taught him that leaving someone to learn to care for themselves and pushing someone to be the absolute best, most self-sufficient, version of themselves they can be was the kind of care he deserved and needed. 

He didn't really understand that, to most people, being taken care of was something pure and sweet that every living thing needed. No matter how many times Trey tried to explain to him that it was okay to let himself be cared for, and it wasn't something to feel shameful for there was a barrier in Riddle’s brain that stopped him from believing for a second that it could have been the truth. 

“If that were the truth ”, Riddle spoke to Trey one late night, when the tough walls around his psyche had been worn down by a long, exhausting day, “ then my mother would have raised me that way. She knows what's best for me. There was a good reason for every decision she made .” 

And that was it.

The second his mother was brought up, the convention was over. 

It perplexed Trey a little. Since his overblot, Riddle had become a little more open to hearing critiques of his mothers behavior, but “a little” doesn't mean a whole lot when previously he wouldn't accept ANY critiques at all. Even alluding to her behavior being wrong was absolutely unacceptable to him. 

Now, Riddle would at least listen when Trey would bring up any problems with her behavior, but that didn't mean he would accept the things he said. 

It was something Trey just had to learn to accept, but how could he? How could he watch the person he loved so much struggle like that and do nothing? 

“Yo space cadet” Trey jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. 

Quickly turning around, he saw Cater smirking. “Dude, did you really just stay here spacing out the whole time? I was gone for like an hour.” Cater maneuvered around the love seat Trey was on to sit next to him. “What, does Riddle have scurvy or something? You're making a face like he's dying.”

Trey looked at him unimpressed. “I don't think scurvy is a death sentence if that's what you're trying to get at.” 

“Then Parkinson's? Scoliosis?” Cater teased. 

Trey chuckled. “How are you oh for three? None of those are deadly diseases.” 

“How am I supposed to know deadly diseases?” Cater groaned, pretending to be exasperated. 

“Cancer is pretty obvious man.” 

“OH!” Cater shot up. “That's what it was. I had a feeling scurvy wasn't the right word for that.”

They both sat and laughed with each other for a moment. Once the energy died down, Cater spoke up again. 

“Alright, so for you I brought you a chicken salad and for Riddle, a vegetable soup. I didn't really know what to get, but soup is like the number one #sickfood so I figured it would be good enough, and it's kinda all that they really had.” 

Trey takes the bags of food from his hand. “Thank you cater. I really appreciate it.” 

Although Trey was very excited to see Riddle again, he was equally excited to see Cater again. Something about being with the wannabe influencer immediately lifted his spirits. 

He figured that Riddle was probably still asleep, or just sulking in his room, so there was no rush to go bother him again. He let himself eat his own meal while catching up with the other third year. It was quite pleasant. 

Once the conversation had died down though, and he started to worry about Riddle's soup getting cold, he finally parted from the other. 

With his spirits now lifted, he made his way back to Riddle's door. As he expected, the edges of the door frame were still shrouded in darkness. The sun had gone down fully now, so even the window he left open provided no light. 

He knocked on the door. 

Of course, nothing 

He knocked again. 

For a moment he was worried that possibly Riddle had gotten up to lock the door, denying Trey any access to him again, but to his relief, when he tried the door knob again it opened without a problem. 

Actually, when the light hit Riddle's bed, he realized the other had not moved from the position he left him in at all, not even an inch. 

That brought Trey even more concern. 

He retraced his steps from before. Used his phone as a flashlight, sat on the edge of his bed, and turned on his lamp to the lowest setting. 

Riddle didn't make any noise in complaint this time. It worried Trey further. 

“I know you're really not feeling good, but I bought you something to eat. It's just soup, so it shouldn't be too hard on your stomach.” Trey spoke as he prepared the meal, taking it out of its bag and setting up the spoon in the plastic container.  

When Riddle didn't move, Trey sighed. “Please Riddle, you're really worrying me. Just try to eat a little for me, okay?” 

Trey reached into the blanket so he could play with Riddle's hair a little. “Once you eat something I'll leave you alone, I promise.’ 

He didn't know if it was the physical contact or the promise to leave, but Riddle finally pulled the blanket a little from his face, letting his eyes show. 

“That’s it. Come on, sit up for me.” He slowly guided Riddle to sit up against his pillow. 

Getting a good look at Riddle, he was pitiful. His hair was every which way, his sleepwear was all twisted uncomfortably around his body, and worst of all, those lifeless dead eyes had returned. 

It was like he was staring into nothing.

“Here.” Trey handed the bowl to Riddle, testing to see if he could hold it himself or if Trey needed to hold it for him. 

Surprisingly, Riddle took the bowl just fine. He extremely hesitantly brought the spoon up to his mouth and took a bite. 

The first handful of bites were very uncertain and slow, but eventually his hunger soon seemed to take over. He wasn't eating fast, but he no longer seemed nervous about it. 

Trey knew he probably shouldn't, but he just sat and watched the other eat. They didn't speak, with Riddle in the state he was in he didn't seem up for conversation. 

A little part of him expected Riddle to get agitated with him. Staring at someone while they were eating is horrible manners and Riddle was certainly the type to tell him such, but nothing ever came. 

They just silently sat in each other's presence, Trey watching Riddle and Riddle purposely never sending even a glance his way. 

Before they knew it, Riddle had eaten all but a fourth of the soup. 

They each snapped out of whatever trance they had fallen into when Riddle’s fingers accidentally fumbled against the spoon and caused him to drop it. The food in the spoon fell against his sheets, leaving a dark spot on the red material. 

Started by his own mistake, Riddle sits up straighter and moves his legs, unintentionally kicking the container over the side of the bed, hitting Trey’s leg then ricocheting to splatter on the floor. 

“Ah!” It was the loudest song he'd heard Riddle make all day. 

“It's okay, I can help you clean it up.” Trey speaks gently. 

Riddle still seemed upset. He was shaky and breathing rapidly. He quickly gets to his knees and crawls off the side of the bed, the opposite side from where Trey was sitting, and sinks down to the floor. 

Trey can't see him there, which he assumes was the point of the action, but Riddle's attempts to hide are betrayed by the sniffles he was clearly trying desperately to conceal. 

Trey sat stunned for a moment. He already had a feeling that whatever was happening with Riddle went beyond just being sick and this confirmed it for him. 

He'd seen Riddle face horrifying monsters before and not even show a hint of anxiety. Riddle would never try to hide away and cry, especially over something as small as spilled soup. 

Something was deeply wrong, and he didn't know what to do about it. 

After considering his situation, he does all he can really think to do. Clean up the mess. 

He got up and found the cleaning supplies Riddle kept in his bathroom. He started with the spill on the bedsheets, hoping tackling it first would make it less likely to stain, then he cleaned up the mess on the floor. 

By the time he had finished everything, Riddle's sniffles had died down a bit but still remained. 

Hesitantly, he walks around the bed to peek over and get a glance at Riddle. He knew Riddle chose to sit like this specifically so he wouldn't see him, so he was worried that trying to look would upset him more, but he noticed that Riddle was sitting with his face buried in his knees so it's not like he could see it anyway. 

Trey maneuvers to sit next to him, purposefully keeping them about four feet apart so as not to accidentally upset the other. For a while they sit like that, the only noise being Riddle's sad little sniffles and whines bouncing off the walls. 

After a few minutes, Trey finally finds the nerve to speak up “Hey, are you alright?” 

Of course, Riddle doesn't acknowledge him in the slightest. The lack of a bad reaction, though, gives Trey the nerve to keep pushing.

“I just wanna know what's going on. You're kinda freaking me out.” He nervously chuckles, scratching at the back of his head.

He starts to notice Riddle's hands trembling. Shit did he say something wrong? 

“You know I'm not mad at you Riddle?” 

Riddle finally lifts his head from his knees a little and lets out a loud pathetic sob. It's high-pitched, and almost childish in a way, but it's so heartbreaking Trey immediately feels awful.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!” Riddle's voice gets quieter and quieter with each apology, his breath fighting him. It was clear he was close to hyperventilating. 

Trey reaches closer to rub the other boy's shoulder, but slowly he morphs the movement into a hug. Surprisingly to him, Riddle quickly latches on, both of his fists curled into an iron-tight grip on his shirt. 

Riddle bawls loudly, only somewhat muffled by Trey's shoulder. It's horrifying. Trey’s only seen Riddle cry like this twice in his life. When they were kids and his mom found them eating tarts together, and after he had overbloted. 

It was always painful to witness, but this time was much more horrifying as he didn't have any semblance of an idea as to what was causing it and that made it impossible to think of a way to fix it. 

With no other ideas, he just continues to hold the other boy as he cries into his shoulder, trying to rub up and down his back to give him a little comfort. 

He allows them to stay like that until Riddle has completely worn himself out. Even after that, he simply wraps both arms around the other as he can feel the other loosening his grip on his shirt. 

When he realizes Riddle had fallen asleep, he very slowly picks him up and lays him back on his spot on the bed. 

Luckily, he didn't need to change the sheets. The stain was already long gone, only being noticeable if you were really looking for it. 

He wanted to stay. It killed him leaving Riddle like this, but he couldn't ask Riddle for permission and with how he was acting it was hard to tell if he was welcome or not, so he simply tucked the younger boy into his blankets and gave a small kiss to his head. 

Once he had retreated back to his own room, Trey was beyond stressed. Absolutely nothing from today made sense, and he didn't have the slightest idea of how he should progress. 

All he knew was that he was going to find a way to get the truth out of Riddle. Something horrible must have happened over the break, and he wasn't going to play pretend that things were okay and that he was totally fine while Riddle was hurting. 

No matter how much Riddle wanted to beat around this bush on discussing this behavior, he wasn't going to let him deny it. 

Chapter Text

Trey’s predictions on how Riddle would handle discussing last night's fiasco proved to be somewhat incorrect. Riddle wasn't acting cagey or defensive about it like he expected. Instead, he was acting as if nothing had ever happened at all. 

In the morning, he had walked into the communal kitchen of the dorm to find Riddle preparing himself tea and reading over some kind of form. 

It was normal, extremely normal, a sight Trey had grown used to seeing every morning, but for once, it didn't bring him any sense of comfort.

There was usually a cool-down period when Riddle got in one of his ‘moods’ where he exhausted himself enough from struggling that he let himself open up a bit and talk out his feelings, but the second he got a little more aware and distanced himself enough from the event, getting him to open up was almost an impossible task. 

To see Riddle up and at em’, those lifeless teary eyes replaced with his normal sharp gaze, he knew he absolutely wouldn't be in the mood to discuss the previous night. 

Still, something in Trey's gut told him it would be wrong not to bring it up. He had learned his lesson about ignoring his gut feeling when it came to Riddle's struggles, he wouldn't make that mistake again. 

Unfortunately, old habits die hard and the thought of being completely upfront and risking agitating his boyfriend too much left a sinking feeling in his stomach, so he settled on something more subtle. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

Riddle looked at him curiously for a moment. “Yes, I'm quite alright. I'd hope you're doing decent as well.” He looks back to the paper in his hand.

Alright, maybe that's too subtle.

Trey sighs internally. Be more direct. “I'm alright, I was just meaning you seemed a little-” what's the word to describe how he was behaving last night? “Uh, sick earlier. I don't want you pushing yourself too much when you're feeling ill. We had a talk about this last month, remember?”

Riddle chuckled. “Of course. Well, I'm feeling perfectly fine, so there's nothing to fret about.”

Riddle picked up his now well-steeped tea and began walking towards his room. “I hope you don't mind, I really need to get this work done. I can't afford to waste any more time. I've missed- …. Hopefully we can make time to chat at some point today.”

Riddle shoots him a small smile as he leaves. Trey smiles back. “Of course. Just let me know if you find any free time.” 

Something he did find comfort in was Riddle's small hesitant smile. It was something so him, so genuine. Trey could tell he wasn't using it to cover up anything or evade the conversation. Riddle was smiling at him that way because it's what he wanted to do, even despite his difficulty expressing intimate emotions. 

Trey decided to start his own morning routine. As he made himself breakfast, brushed his teeth (twice), and dressed in his uniform, he thought over the conversation. 

Riddle really didn't seem like he was purposefully being avoidant. 

One could take his sudden departure and responses that seemed to perfectly skirt around any illusion of the night before as large waving red flags, but something about the genuine relaxed way that Riddle had spoken made Trey question if it was really just all a dream. 

It could be possible. Since the overblot, it wasn't uncommon for Trey to get odd vivid nightmares, usually regarding his friend. Something about that pitiful, desperate sob though stuck with him. It had to be real, he could just feel that it was. 

“I can't afford to waste any more time.”   That's what Riddle said. It was the closest he got at all to an acknowledgment that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. Even then, it was Riddle. To someone like him, ‘wasting time’ could have meant sleeping, or eating, or doing anything but work. 

It didn't make much sense to him though. If Riddle was purposefully being dismissive, how could he be so genuine while also being so insincere? There had to be an angle to this he wasn't getting. 

For the day, at least, he needed to put it to rest. He wasn't going to let some strange dorm drama distract him from his education. With everything that had happened this year, he'd already fallen behind enough. 

So that he did, each class seemed to drag on, although he couldn't tell if that was because of his exhaustion from everything or because it was the first day of the new semester. At the very least, when he would get a little distracted and fall behind, he was in good company. About six kids managed to fall asleep in Trein’s class, so comparatively, he looked like a model student. 

Once lunch rolled around, he drug himself to the cafeteria. Riddle had been busy with something or another, and was nowhere to be found, while the first-years seemed to congregate together, so he chose to sit next to wherever Cater was, which just so happened to be next to Vil and Rook. 

“Oh! Chevalier des roses. How wonderful it is to see you again.” Rook sang as Trey took his seat. 

Trey groaned. “Am I ever gonna be able to get you to stop calling me that?” 

Cater chuckled. “Speaking of which, where is Riddle anyways? Is he really that sick that he would miss class? That seems extreme for him.” 

In the second Trey stalled chewing his food, Rook piped up.

“Awww, ton amour all tragic and afflicted. You should be by his side”, Rook frowned theatrically.

“Oh, falling ill at the start of the semester as a housewarden seems absolutely dreadful. You'll have to send Rosehearts my regards. I can't think of much worse than dealing with all that tedious work while sickly.”

“It's not like that,” Trey gets out. “He's here today. I think he's just speaking with a professor or something. He was probably just exhausted yesterday, but he seemed to be in better spirits this morning.” 

“Ah, that's good!” Cater smiled. “You got me all nervous. You disappeared for a while after I gave you your food and then the next I see of you you're walking down the hall with a huge stain down your pant leg. I thought he threw up on you or something.” 

Rook “Oh my~ Trey I didn't know-” 

“I'm not even gonna let you finish that. Riddle simply knocked a little of the soup on me by accident. As I said, he was just really exhausted. I mean who wouldn't be with the kind of break I'm sure he had.”

Cater grumbled. “Yeah, the wicked witch” he mumbled just loud enough that the table could hear. 

“Are you speaking of his mother?” Vil questioned. 

“Yeah, she's … not the best.” Trey frowned. “Don't let him know I said that though.” 

Cater sat up. “Oh yeah! Definitely don't let him know about what I said. I would actually kinda like to keep my head, you know?”

Rook smiled. “So maman des roses is quite the pariah, but he still fights for the woman's honor?”

“Maman des roses?” Trey mumbled under his breath. 

“Uh, I guess that's a way of putting it.” Cater tips his head to the side. 

Trey cuts in as Rook brings a hand to his chin, clearly about to say something crass. “Let's just not talk about it. I don't think Riddle would be happy if he knew we were speaking about his business so openly like this.” 

There's a short stall in the conversation before Vil speaks, completely disregarding Trey's request. “Does Riddle usually come back from his mother's so ‘exhausted’?” 

“Uh” Trey tries to decide if it's a good idea to answer that. “Not exactly,” he sighs. “He seemed a lot more out of it than usual.” 

“Hmm” Vil knit his brows together. “Perhaps it would be a smart idea to keep a close eye on him for the meantime.” 

Trey stilled. He was fully expecting to be told he was overacting or being invasive. It felt odd to be told his anxieties were rational. 

“R-really? You think so?” Trey kept his eyes on Vil. 

“Familial issues can be such a delicate thing. I don't know much of his situation, but if he's acting in a way that's atypical, it's only logical to assume something happened. With his past … issues, I don't think implementing a little precaution with him would be unfounded.” 

Trey scrunched up his eyebrows and looked down at the table. “I definitely don't think he's gonna overblot again if that's what you're implying, but thank you, I'll keep that in mind.” 

With that, they finally managed to transition to some non-Riddle related conversation, mostly about their activities over the break. Throughout the day though, Vil’s words circled through Trey’s head. 

Was he really being rational with all this worrying? 

Trey believed Vil to have a stable head on his shoulder. Unlike some blonde bobbed hunters, surely he'd be a good judge of what's rational behavior or not. Even Cater and Rook didn't chime in with any protests. 

He was starting to think the only person who disagreed with his worry for Riddle was the voice of Riddle in his head that Trey had internalized somewhere along the way. He knew trying to care for Riddle was right, his friends knew it, the only person who would disagree was Riddle himself. 

He didn't want to follow it anymore. Riddle was free to act as averse to care as he'd like. That didn't mean Trey had to stop trying to give it. After all, Riddle was never going to get past that pattern of thought if he was never given the opportunity to. 

The moment he got out of class, he retreated to his room, sat at his desk, and began to write out talking points for a conversation with his boyfriend. 

He tried to think of a good starter to the conversation along with various counters and rebuttals to things Riddle might respond with. The main issue was going to be when they could even meet up to actually have the conversation. 

As Vil had mentioned, the beginning of the semester for a housewarden was grueling. There was an unnecessary amount of tedious meetings, forms, and requirements. It was the time of year when Trey was incredibly relieved to only be a vice -housewarden, as truthfully, they didn't have to do much of anything. 

Riddle had given Trey access to an online form where he kept track of his schedule, something Idia had taught him, so he at least had somewhat of an idea of when his partner was free. 

As much as he hated to make Riddle have such a stressful conversation so late in the night, unfortunately, the only time he really had available soon was the short amount of time he left open before he went to bed.

That's how he ended up where he was, in front of Riddle's door at nine pm, nervously coaching himself through his talking points. 

He found the courage to finally knock on this door. 

“Yes. What is it?” The sound is muffled by the door. 

“... It's Trey. Is now a bad time?” 

It's silent for a moment before he hears shuffling followed by the door opening. 

Riddle pokes his upper body out. “Do you need something?” 

“Uh … no, can we just talk for a bit?” 

Riddle thinks for a moment. “I suppose, let's just not take too long. I should really get to sleep soon.” Riddle opens the door for him and starts to walk to sit on the loveseat in his room. 

Trey follows, sitting on a small chair facing the loveseat. Something that immediately attracts Riddle’s attention as they usually share the loveseat together, sitting side by side. 

Riddle's eyes immediately narrow. “Are you agitated with me?” 

“No, not at all.” Trey shakes his head. “I'm actually just nervous you might get agitated with me.” 

“Why?” Riddle raised an eyebrow. “What did you do? I already have enough first years thinking that a new semester means they can forget every rule that's ever existed. I don't need my own vice betraying me as well.”

Trey nervously chuckled. “It's not about the rules, and I didn't do anything. I just … I wanted to talk about last night.”

“What about it?” Riddle stared blankly at him. 

Trey looked at him, confused. “Are you serious?”

Riddle blinked. “I mean, … it was a little embarrassing, but you always say you want me to let you take care of me, so that's what I did. Is that not what you wanted?” 

“I- … yes? I- I do want that, but last night seemed a little … out of the ordinary. Of course, I didn't have any problems with it, but it's not common to see you crying that insensitively. That plus the way you were spaced out and panicked-”

“Crying? When did I cry?” Riddle genuinely looked lost. 

“You don't remember it? Seriously?” 

Riddle shook his head. 

“Can you … tell me exactly what you think happened last night?” Trey asked.

“Hmmm, alright.” Riddle repositioned himself on the chair. “After everything was done for the reorientation, I felt incredibly tired, so I went up to my room. At some point, I remember you coming in and talking to me but you left pretty quickly.” 

“and why did I leave?” 

“I think you said you were going to get something.” 

“Do you remember asking me to go away?” 

“No, I didn't say that. Or-” his eyebrows scrunched together. “Wait, I think I did. I might have.” 

Trey takes a breath. “Can you keep going?”

“Right. I went back to sleep, but you woke me up again after a while. You had soup, so I ate some and once I was done you left. I fell back asleep and didn't wake up until the morning.” 

“Interesting”

“I wouldn't call that interesting?”

Trey adjusted his glasses. “You don't remember the rest at all.” 

Riddle sighed. “Trey, I was beyond exhausted. Am I supposed to remember every little detail of every moment?”

“It wasn't a little detail.” He took a deep breath. “When you were almost done eating you dropped your spoon, then you accidentally knocked over the soup.” 

He saw Riddle start to cringe but kept going. “You got off the bed and started crying on the floor. I cleaned everything up and when I got to you, you freaked out and started bawling. I had to wait till you wore yourself out so I could put you to bed.” 

Riddle stared blankly at him for a moment. “There's not a chance that happened. I wouldn't behave like that.” 

Trey was genuinely left speechless. They both sat quietly, holding each other's gaze uncomfortably. 

“You actually don't remember that? You're not just messing with me to avoid the conversation?” Trey spoke steadily. 

“No!” The second year sat up. “Don’t accuse me of such things. Are you purposely trying to rile me up?” 

“No, no sorry I just-” he raked his hands through his hair. “Even if you were incredibly tired, forgetting something like that isn't normal. It makes me worried. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to a doctor about it.” 

Riddle's eyes narrowed. “I do not need to see a doctor. I'm perfectly fine. I'm actually lucky my brain would let me forget such an awful embarrassing thing. I would have been better off had you not so graciously reminded me of it.”

“you remember it now?” Trey questions. 

“I remember telling you that I needed to go to sleep soon, so leave.” Riddle stands up abruptly, rushing to his wardrobe to find his sleepwear. 

“Riddle” The third year got up to follow him. 

As Trey placed his hand on Riddle's shoulder, he quickly shoved it away. 

“I don't like the things you're implying. I can handle myself.” 

Trey sighs. “I'm not saying you can't, but I think if it could be something medical it would be good to find a professional to figure it out.”

“ Figure it out ”, Riddle mocked. “I've been handling this just fine for over a month on my own and have had no issues. I have it figured out.” 

Trey stopped then grabbed both of Riddle's upper arms to still him from where he was furiously riffling through his wardrobe. 

“This has been happening for over a month?” Trey asked. 

Riddle looked stunned, realizing he had betrayed himself with his own words. “Yes, about.” He mumbled quietly. 

Trey’s gaze softened. “Why didn't you tell me anything?” 

“I already said it, I have it figured out. I have a method of handling it so that it doesn't affect my daily life and adding another person to that would just complicate things.” 

“A method?” He squints his eyes. “And what exactly is your method?” 

Riddle's eyes flick around the room. He didn't want to prove Trey’s suspicion right that he would lie to get out of having the conversation, but he also didn't like the idea of getting too vulnerable about the situation. 

“... Did you not hear what I said? Involving you in this would just make it more complicated for me and affect my ability to deal with it negatively. I'm sure that's not what your end goal is here: to hinder me.” 

“No, of course not.” He softly slides his hands a little lower to rest near the other boy's elbows. “I’m not even asking to be involved in this. I just want to be kept in the loop.” 

“And what exactly does that entail?” A bit of the tension in Riddle's body dissipates. 

Trey gnaws at his lips nervously for a quick moment. “I just want to know exactly what's going on and how you're handling it. If it really is all under control, I'll leave you to it.” 

“And if you decide it's not?” His eyebrows push together. 

“Then I would at least like for you to let me attempt to help you.” He finally released his grip on Riddle's arms. 

Riddle's face is painted with confliction, looking down, eyes flicking to and from, lips pursed. It makes Trey feel a little guilty. He knows how difficult Riddles finds to open up. 

Softening his expression, Trey speaks. “You know me Riddle. Whatever it is, I'm not gonna pass judgement on you or go and tell anyone. I just wanna help you get through it. I can't stand watching you suffer while I sit and do nothing. It doesn't feel right.”

Riddle lets out a sigh through his nose, lips still pursed. “I know that I-” he mumbles, hardly audible, “I don't know.” He speaks as he exhales. Even quieter and more breathy. 

“You don't know what? That I actually want to help you?” 

“No” his voice is laced with exasperation. “I don't … know what's wrong with me.” He keeps his gaze locked on the ground. “I've done all sorts of research, but I can't figure it out. I think I'm just broken in some way.” 

It was quiet for a moment. Trey took a breath in and out to steady himself. “Can we just sit back down for a moment and talk about this? Maybe if you tell me exactly what's been happening and how you've been handling it, I can try and give you a new perspective on the situation. It may not change anything, but it couldn't hurt.” 

Riddle remained still for a moment, then gave the smallest of nods. 

“Come on then” he placed a hand on the other's back, leading him back to the loveseat. This time though, they sat side by side, as they were accustomed to.

It was harder to see Riddle’s expression from this angle, but he could tell where he was mentally. It was that ‘cool-down’ period after he'd accidentally exhausted himself. They managed to get there with less resistance than usual. Maybe choosing to do this later in the night was a smart idea after all. Having his partner already exhausted seems to help. 

“So can you talk to me?” 

Riddle took a brief pause to find his words. “... About a month ago, I noticed when I was feeling more stressed out and had downtime, I would start to … zone out. It didn't feel like much of anything at first. I assumed I had just pushed myself too much, but as it progressed it got a little worse.”

Trey nodded along as Riddle continued. “I started to feel …” his body tensed a little. “I felt like I wasn't really myself, in the way that … my thoughts weren't really my own or more so that they weren't things that weren't in my character to think.” 

“How were they different from the way you'd usually think?”

Riddle’s face flushed more, one of his eyes scrunching half-way closed, a habit he'd noticed the redhead to do when he was uncomfortable. “It was- …” he let out a breath. “honestly pathetic.” 

His hands curled up in his lap, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly. “I was anxious. My brain kept telling me that I had done something wrong and that I was going to be punished for it and I-” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at his hands. “I wanted so badly to be held.” His voice was just above a whisper. 

Trey almost piped in, saying Riddle could have gotten him, and he would have given him all the affection he could have ever wanted, but he knew that wasn't the point. 

“It was so idiotic. I don't think that way or … not as much. I haven't felt that strongly that way since I was a child.” 

“Hmm” Trey knit his eyebrows in thought. 

After not getting a response, Riddle continued, not able to stand the silence. “and the memory thing. Sometimes my ability to recall moments when I'm zoned out is … a little fuzzy, but at worst I would just forget it for a while and remember it later so it wasn't that bad.” 

“Although,” his eyes wandered up a little bit, looking at Trey’s legs but not making any eye contact. “I suppose if I was able to forget like last night then who knows what else I've been forgetting when I'm alone and there's no one to keep the record for me.” 

Trey nodded. “You said that you've been dealing with it though. How's that?”

“Mainly I keep myself busy.” Riddle sits up a little. A tiny hint of confidence coming back to his features. “If I'm working on something, my mind usually won't wander back to that feeling, so outside of designated times I don't leave any room for my mind to travel that way.” 

“Designated times?” Trey tilts his head. 

Riddle quickly swipes his tongue over his chapped lips. “Yes, about twice a week if I can, I'll set aside a few hours to lock myself in my room and intentionally slip into that feeling. It's not the best work around. I'd prefer to never have it happen at all, but I figured if I had a controlled space to do it I could at least get it out of my system.” 

“And that works?”

“Yes, it worked well for a while.”

“For a while?” 

Riddle sighed, looking to the side. “I think the added stress from winter break is getting to me. It's been getting harder to deal with. What you saw last night was the worst it's ever gotten. I'd never gotten that out of control before. It's like I could hardly control the way I was acting at all.” 

“Did something happen over winter break?” 

Riddle did not respond. In fact, he didn't make any move to even acknowledge the question had been asked. 

After the silence had set in the room for an uncomfortable amount of time, Riddle spoke. “Are you complete with your line of questioning yet or is this interrogation still going?”

Trey lightly chuckled. “Not an interrogation, but yeah, I think I get the picture.” 

“Then what's your verdict?” 

“Honestly”, he adjusts his glasses. “I have no idea either.”

A sly smile makes its way to Riddle’s lips. “Well, that's perfect. This was certainly a wonderful use of our time.”

“ But I will definitely look into it and see if I can figure anything out. Two people searching is better than one, right?”

Riddle quietly puffs out a breath. “I suppose” 

“There is one thing I'm gonna ask of you though.”

“and what would that be?” Riddle finally looks at Trey, his face slightly irritated. 

“If you get that spaced-out feeling again, I need you to text me to let me know.” 

“Really? Why, what are you going to do?” 

“Be there. If you freak out again, it's probably not a smart idea to be alone.” 

“I've been handling this alone for a month, I'm perfectly capable of handling a ‘freak out’ on my own.”

“You said it yourself, it's been getting a lot worse since the break. You don't know what's gonna happen.” 

Riddle scoffs. “Fine” 

“I'm serious. Please promise me you will.”

The redhead's face softens. “I promise I'll let you know.” He speaks genuinely. “Now can I please go to bed?” 

Trey smiles. “Of course, I'm sorry for bothering you so late.” 

“I doubt you are.” Riddle smirks while guiding him to the door. “Sleep well” he places a small kiss on Trey's jaw and shuts the door. 

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

  (4:17 pm) Riddle ♡ : please 

Trey was confused. He tapped on the message to see if Riddle had sent it in parts, but that was it, just a lone ‘please’.

He brushed it off as Riddle being a little inept when it came to technology. He probably sent only the second part of his message by accident. 

(4:18 pm) : huh? Do you need something?

As more minutes tick by without a response, Trey grows more anxious. 

(4:25 pm) : Riddle are you okay

(4:30 pm) : I'm gonna come check on you alright

Trey left his room and headed towards Riddle's. At this time of day, Riddle was usually out and about. He truly doubted he'd find him there. 

Once he reached the room, he knocked on the door. “Riddle you in there?” 

Nothing. Yeah, of course he wouldn't be. 

Just as he took a step to walk away though, he was hit with the urge to check the door knob. Maybe he was just thinking back to that first night when they got back from break. 

He wrapped his hand around the knob and pushed lightly. It opened. 

He peaked in, and saw the room looked empty. 

It was unlike Riddle to leave his door unlocked while he was out. Maybe when he had just gotten back from his mother's, but it had been a week since they got back. He'd already fallen back to his regular habits. 

As he took a few hesitant steps in, he spotted him. Riddle was here! The way he was seated made it difficult to see him from the door. 

Riddle was sat on the floor with his back pressed up against his bedframe. It was much like the night he saw Riddle cry except he was on the other side of the bed, now facing the section of the room where the loveseat resided. 

He was positioned the same way though, his arms loosely wrapped around his knees, and his calves tucked close to his thighs. 

“Riddle, you okay?” 

Riddle remained still. The only indication that he was even alive was his right leg readjusting slightly.  He was certainly zoned out, those sad empty eyes of his once again staring into nothing. 

Trey began to realize that after he told Riddle to text him if something happened he probably should have come up with a plan of exactly what to do. 

If his texts were anything to go by, Riddle had probably been stuck here, completely disconnected from the world for around half an hour. That certainly couldn't be good for him. He needed to find something to snap him out of it. 

Replicating his strategy from last time, he walked closer to Riddle and sat just far enough from him to not make him uncomfortable. Once he felt Riddle had adapted to his presence, he got a little closer. 

“Would you like me to hold you?” 

Riddle gave a small whine and hugged his legs tighter. 

“You don't have to be shy. If that's what you want, it's okay.” 

Riddle finally looked at him, his eyes gleaming with a little bit more life. He gave a very slight nod. 

“Here” Trey slowly wrapped his arm around Riddle's upper body, giving him ample time to back out if he didn't like it. Riddle’s hands disconnected from his legs instead taking purchase at the bottom hem of Trey's shirt. 

Trey began rocking their bodies back and forth slightly, trying to keep Riddle moving so he wouldn't just immediately space out again. 

“How are you feeling?” Trey asked gently. 

Riddle whined again, slightly louder this time. “I’m scared.” His voice was high and whiney but soft. 

“What's scaring you?”

“I don't know.” His voice cracked on the last word.  “I don’ like it” he spoke quickly and panicked but still soft. 

Trey felt Riddle start to shake, he could only assume he was crying.

“Here, would you like me to-” his eyes quickly shot around the room trying to find anything that could be of use, trying to think of what used to calm his younger siblings down. Finally, he landed on a novel that was sitting on Riddle's desk. 

“Would you like me to read to you?” 

Riddle considered it for a second and then slightly nodded again. Trey could only feel it more than he saw it with the way Riddle was pressed against him. 

As he attempted to stand up to go get the book, Riddle's grip on his shirt tightened, and he let out a loud whine. 

Trey smiled sadly and reached to pet Riddle’s head. “I'm not leaving. I just wanna go get the book, okay? 

Riddle sobbed. “No please!” He cried out. 

Trey sighed. He really didn't want to upset him more. “Here, let’s try this.” He wrapped one arm around his back and the other under his thighs. 

Lucky, Riddle was quite easy to pick up, almost concerningly so. He never really noticed how light the other boy was. Not hearing any protests, he carried Riddle to the desk and grabbed the book. 

“Do you wanna sit on your bed or go back to the floor?”

Riddle's only response was a grumbling sound that didn't tell Trey anything. 

He sighs. “Let's go to your bed for now. It's much more comfortable.” He walked Riddle to the bed and sat down with him, never letting him out of his arms. 

He finally released one arm but quickly pulled Riddle closer to him with the other to make up for it. Riddle looked like he almost wanted to complain but didn't. 

Trey opened the book to where Riddle had it booked marked. With the uncertainty around his memory in this state, Trey couldn't actually tell if he would remember what he already read, but he figured Riddle wouldn't really be paying much attention anyway.

He started to read from the top of the page when Riddle interrupted him. “You're reading it?” He sounded uncertain. 

“Yeah, that way you get to relax.” He rubbed Riddle’s arm. 

“Thas not how it's supposed to go.” His sweet high voice trips over itself, almost like he forgot how to use his tongue. 

“How is it supposed to go then?” 

“ I'm supposed to read. That way I get smarter.”

“Riddle, you're always learning. Wouldn't it be nice to just relax?”  

He looked around for a moment, uncertain. “Maybe, but mama would be upset. I'm supposed t’ be reading for myself. She says it's what's best for my education” 

Trey's heart dropped. That bitch of a woman wouldn't even read to her own child. 

“Well, your moms not here right now. It's just me and you, and I say it's perfectly okay for you to be read to.” 

“Really? I'm allowed to?” A hint of hope shined in his sad eyes as he looked up at Trey. 

It was so cute. It reminded Trey a lot of when he had very first met him. Those sweet big eyes shining with hope as Che'nya convinced him to come play with them even though he felt he shouldn't.

He smiled. “Of course, there are no rules against it here. You won't get in any trouble.” 

The smallest hint of a smile reached Riddle's face as he nodded, this time with much more force. 

Trey chuckled “alright”. He started back from the top. Riddle seemed to try to relax but kept leaning over to read along with him anyway. 

Trey felt a little bad. The book was awfully boring, much more historical than it was fiction. It was also incredibly wordy. He was nervous that Riddle wouldn't keep up with the vocabulary, although he seemed to remember most things. Was he actually existing as a child or did it just affect his behavior? 

He wished he knew, but he didn't. He'd have to remember to ask Riddle later. Either way, Riddle seemed content, and as each page flipped he fought harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Eventually, he fell asleep in Trey’s arms once more.

This time, Trey didn't immediately put him to bed. It felt nice keeping his partner in his arms like that. He wanted to make it last as long as it could, sitting in his bed with him for over half an hour. 

Unfortunately, he had agreed to help with a study session for a few third years, and the start time was quickly approaching. Hesitantly, he lays Riddle down in his bed fully and tucks the covers around him. 

He takes it post-it from Riddle’s desk and leaves a note. 

‘If you're still feeling bad when you wake up please text me, I'll come back for you ♡’

Chapter Text

“I think I have an idea of what's going on.” Trey dragged a chair over to sit next to Riddle where he was at his desk, obsessing over some worksheets. 

Riddle didn't even look up. “Pick up furniture fully if you're moving it. We don't need the floor getting scratched.” 

Trey smirked and brought his hand to Riddle's chin to tilt it to face him. “Aren't you the slightest bit interested?” 

“It's certainly not a subject I find myself yearning to discuss, but if it makes you happy, you're free to continue.” 

Trey let out a small breath, his smirk turning into a much more gentle smile. He took his hand from Riddle’s chin and lowered it to softly grab one of his hands. “I know that you don't like to talk about this stuff, but the sooner we get it figured out, the easier it'll get, right?” 

Riddle looked down. “Maybe” 

“Hey, if you're really not in the mood, we can wait till later.” 

“No.” Riddle shook his head. “I'm going to be just as uneasy talking about it later as I am now. It's best to just get it done with.” He gave Trey’s hand a small squeeze and relaxed slightly. “So what is it that you found?” 

“Well,” he started. “After we first talked about this, I tried to do some research. When I looked up things like ‘involuntarily spacing out’ or ‘feeling disconnected from one's self’, a bunch of disorders came up that didn't seem right. There were always one or two key symptoms that you definitely didn't have.” 

“That was pretty much my experience researching it.” Riddle chimed in. 

“Yeah, it was definitely feeling like a hopeless pursuit, so I went to the library to see if I could find anything more detailed.” 

“Ah how smart” Riddle smiled, half teasing and half genuinely pleased. “That ended up being a dead end for me as well though.” 

“It almost was for me, but as I was going through a few of the psychology books I saw something with the word ‘disassociation’. I remembered seeing it used in a few of the articles I read and it stuck with me cause it's something I had heard Cater say a few times. I thought it was just a weird internet thing, but looking into it it's actually real.”. 

“Disassociation?” Riddle murmured.

“Yeah, it's kind of what you were describing to me. It's like feeling disconnected from your thoughts in a way, like you have no control and your thoughts aren't really yours." 

“Hmm” Riddle sat up, looking interested. “So that's what you think it is? Disassociation?” 

“Uh yes or not actually, kind of.” 

Riddle's expression quickly goes from interested to unamused. “What?” 

Trey tries to find his words. “I … as I kept reading, it talked about different kinds of disassociation. Apparently, it's more like a symptom than a disorder itself.” 

“Wonderful, more over-complication” Riddle scoffs. 

Trey chuckles. “Yeah, when have things ever just been straightforward for us? I feel horrible for anyone who decides to go into a psychological field.” 

He continues. “Turns out there's a bunch of causes for it. A lot of mental disorders, some narcoleptic conditions, once again though, most didn't seem to fit you, but there was one that struck me as plausible.” 

He stops, attempting to try a way to rephrase ‘severe childhood trauma’ in a way Riddle wouldn't take offense to. “Going through certain ….. stressors in early life is actually one of the most common causes of disassociation.” 

“Which means…” Riddle remains unimpressed. “Does it truly matter where it comes from? We only really need to know how to fix it.” 

“That's the thing though. As I said, the disassociation is just a symptom. If you just treat this synonym and not the main problem, not much is gonna change.” 

“So what's the ‘main problem’?” 

Once more, Trey struggles to find what words will lead to the least resistance. “ … Last time, when you texted me and I came to help you, something really stuck with me.” 

Riddle looked a little uncomfortable at the mention of it but kept quiet. “When I was talking with you, it almost seemed like someone had dropped the version of you I used to play with when we were kids right in front of me. It was uncanny, but in a good way.” Trey smiled. 

“I wasn't able to place it at the time, but that first day back from break when I saw you, your behavior was also kind of … young … in a way.”

Riddle's eyebrows narrowed, but Trey continued before he could cut in. “As I read through the book, they talked about different ways that disassociation could present and one of them seemed to fit with that behavior. Age regression.”

“Age regression?” Riddle repeated, seeming more displeased.

“It's a kind of disassociation where the person feels … younger. They think, act, and behave like they would if they were a kid. There's a lot of different ways-” 

“That’s not it.” Riddle states firmly. 

“ N … no?” 

“No.” 

Riddle sits up and removes his hand from Trey's. “I'm very appreciative of your help here, and I'm glad you were willing to go through all that work for me, but I know that's not it. I will look more into disassociation, but I don't think it's much more than that.” 

Trey took a breath and forced a smile. “Of course. I'm always happy to help, or at least try to.” He stood up and placed a small kiss on Riddle's head. 

“The promise still stands though.” He carried the chair he was sitting on back to where it had been before, properly picking it up this time. “If you feel that way please text me.” 

“Yes, I remember.” Riddle's attention reverted back to his worksheet. 

He had expected Riddle's aversion to the idea of age regression. Riddle always seemed to have some strange ideals when it came to the concept of juvenile behavior. 

He hated more than anything to be seen as childish .

Many a time, Trey had heard him reprimanding students saying, ‘act your age!’ or ‘You're behaving like such a child!’.  

On top of that, after his overblot when certain students started calling him names behind his back, he had almost completely remained level-headed about it until he heard them calling him “Red Baby”. He once had almost started crying while talking about it to Trey, but quickly changed the topic when he realized he didn't have the control over the tear ducts he thought he had. 

It only made sense that Riddle wouldn't be happy that his own brain was completely betraying him by making him act like a child. That was probably a nightmare scenario for him, so Trey wanted to be as understanding as possible. 

Although he was very certain he was right, and that it really was age regression, he didn't push it. That didn't mean he was going to ignore it though. Even if they weren't calling it age regression, taking steps to treat something like age regression wasn't out of the question. 

That's why he ended up at Sam's shop the next day, picking up some special items.

Some markers, a simple coloring book, a mid-difficulty crossword puzzle book, a small blanket, and a mid-sized white stuffed rabbit. 

─ ·✶· ─ · ·

  (9:05 pm) Riddle ♡ : please.

That's his que. 

Trey quickly grabs the bag of items from his shopping trip and heads towards the other boy's room. 

Of course, when he knocked there's no answer, but as he was learning to expect, the door was unlocked. 

This time Riddle wasn't curled up on the floor, which he supposed was an improvement. Instead, he was curled up on the loveseat. His socked feet were up on the cushion, and he was in a similar position to before, arms wrapped around his knees. 

He walked closer to the chair, setting the bag down on the table in front of it. “Riddle, is it okay if I sit with you?” 

He was not acknowledged, not even given a semblance of a glance. 

Very slowly, he sat down on the other end of the loveseat. The chair itself wasn't that big, but with the way Riddle was curled up he was barely taking up any room, causing a decent distance between them. 

He starts the same as he did last time. “Would you like me to hold you?” 

Riddle's eyes snap up to him, finally acknowledging his presence. He shakes his head. 

“That's okay. Could you try and tell me how you're feeling though?

Riddle looked conflicted for a moment but finally spoke up. “I'm tired.” He mumbled in that familiar soft, high-toned voice. 

Trey gave him a small smile. “I can help put you to bed if you'd like. It is getting a little late.” 

Riddle shook his head furiously and gave a slight pout. 

Trey chuckled. “That's okay too. Although, when you are feeling sleepy, I've got something for you.” 

“You have something? Like a gift?” Riddle perked up a bit. 

Trey nods. “I don't think it's anything particularly fun, but yeah, it's for you. Would you like to see?” 

Riddle hesitantly nods. 

Leaning forward, Trey grabs the bag from the table, sets it on the ground near the leg of the chair, and pulls out the blanket. He figures it would be a good start. He didn't wanna scare Riddle off by treating him too much like a child and giving him a stuffed animal. 

When he holds out the item for the other boy to take, Riddle shifts, leaning forward on his knees. He just stares at it for a moment, his face not giving any hint to what he could be thinking. 

“Uh … if you don't like it, it's alright. I can return it.” Trey shifts, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. 

Riddle's eyes flicked to his face. “May I hold it?”

“Yeah, of course. It's yours, you can do whatever you like with it.”

Riddle's brows press together, though Trey can't really decipher what emotion it's supposed to indicate. 

Thin hands reach out to grab the blanket. Riddle goes incredibly slow and cautious, almost like he was afraid Trey would rip it away from him if he made a wrong move. Once he's finally holding the item, he leans away from Trey slightly. 

The blanket wasn't much. It was just big enough to wrap around one person, something easy to cary around that wasn't too bulky. Trey made sure that the pattern wasn't anything too childish, going with one that was white on the inside and red with white and black gingham patterns on the outside. 

Its most important quality though, was the fabric. It was that plush kind of furry feeling fabric that most fuzzy blankets are made out of. One day, Cater had left one in Trey's room and when Riddle came over he made quick work engulfing himself in it. 

“I really enjoy the way these feel, but they're incredibly tacky looking, so I try not to keep them around.”

When Riddle had said that, Trey immediately knew it was a half-truth. It was one of those things that was pointless to question further, as it was likely something he was parroting from his mother, but it stuck with him. 

It must feel so horrible to have to give up the things you like just to please people who may or may not even care to begin with. It sounded just awful.

He knew Riddle wouldn't accept it, but he figured there was a chance regressed Riddle just might. Fortunately, that seemed to be the case as Riddle had now brought the fabric to his face and was nuzzling against it like some kind of house cat. 

The sight was so precious Trey had to press a knuckle to his mouth to hide his amusement, not wanting Riddle to notice and stop.

“Are you sure I can keep it?” Riddle looked up at him with wide eyes. 

He composed himself. “Yeah. To be honest, I'm not the biggest fan of that kind of fabric, but it seems like it's perfect for you. I think it'll get good use in your hands.” He looks at the blanket. “Do you want me to help you with it?” 

Riddle looked confused but gave a small nod. When Trey reached over and grabbed the blanket, he looked upset for a moment but relaxed when he started to wrap it around his body.

After wrapping it in a way around his shoulders that made it so it stayed shut without being held, Trey leaned back. “Are you finally feeling sleepy now?”

Riddle shook his head. However, the unusual darkness of his eye bags betrayed him.

Trey thought. “Do you want me to read to you again?”

“I don't know.” Riddle looked down. 

Goodness, he wished Riddle would just tell him what he wanted to do instead of making him guess. What does Riddle like to do to relax… 

It hit him, the crosswords. He wasn't expecting to use it this early, but it's good to ask. “Riddle do you play with crossword puzzles?” 

Riddle sat up a bit. “I don't think I have any blank ones left.” 

“Here I got you some new ones.” He reached in the bag and pulled out the crossword book and the box of markers. “Sorry if they're not really your level. I didn't know what to get.” His volume trailed off near the end. 

Riddle ignored him, instead crawling to the floor to sit in front of the table and opening the crossword book. 

For a quiet period of time, that's where they stayed, Riddle working on his crosswords and Trey looking over his shoulder from the chair, watching him work.

Trey was a little nervous because Riddle always seemed to enjoy particularly challenging puzzles, the kind Trey would look at and feel completely lost. He worried that he would completely breeze through the much more simple puzzles and get bored, but that wasn't the case. He was solving them decently fast, but he seemed to purposely be going slower than what  Trey knew he was capable of. 

He really couldn't tell if that was because he was regressed or just because the exhaustion was causing him to lose focus. 

After Riddle finished about four different pages of puzzles, Trey had quite honestly started to nod off but snapped to focus when he felt something tug at his pant leg. 

Riddle had turned to him with big eyes, the fabric of Trey's pants pinched between his fingers, seemingly asking for something.

“What do you need, Riddle?” 

Of course, he didn't respond. 

Trey sighed. “Are you finally ready for bed?” 

Nothing.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

With every failed guess, Riddle's frown deepens, looking more and more upset. This had to be something that Riddle was really uncomfortable asking for if he wouldn't even hint at it.

“... Do you want me to hold you?” 

Riddle gently nodded. Some of the frustration disappeared from his face, but he still looked upset. 

“Here, let me know if this is uncomfortable.” He moved down to the floor and lifted Riddle up a bit. After sitting crisscross on the floor, he lowered Riddle down onto his lap and hugged his abdomen. 

“Is this okay?” Trey asked, resting his head on the redhead's shoulder. 

Riddle leaned back into Trey and nodded, quickly going back to his crosswords. 

The position was much more comfortable than Trey thought it would be. Even through the blanket he could feel Riddle's body heat, and the smell of the recently washed blanket mixing with Riddle's shampoo was nice, nice enough that he had actually managed to fall asleep at some point. 

He woke up to the feeling of Riddle readjusting himself. Opening his eyes, Riddle was now facing him. He didn't know how long he was asleep, but he could tell his partner was still regressed by the look in his eyes. 

“I can help put you to bed if you want.” Riddle spoke quietly. Repeating Trey's own words back to him. 

He smiled. “That's alright Riddle.” He sat up. “Maybe it's time for both of us to go to bed.” 

As he stood up, Riddle remained seated instead, staring blankly at the floor again. “Riddle?” 

No response. 

He crouched down. “You really don't wanna go to bed, huh?” 

“Uh-uh” he could hear Riddle's voice quivering. 

“Well why's that? You look exhausted.” 

“I am exhausted.” He mumbled. 

“Well then we should go to bed. You'll feel better once you've slept.” 

Riddle kept looking at the floor.  “I won't feel better.” he spoke quietly. 

“ ……. Is it the nightmares again?” He spoke incredibly gently. 

Riddle's eyes flicked up to him looking stressed, then they flicked to the side nervously before landing on the floor again. Riddle nodded, a stray tear he'd been trying to fight off slipping down his cheek. 

“Did you have a nightmare last night?” 

Riddle nodded.

“How much sleep did you manage to get?” 

Riddle thought for a second. “Not much” 

Trey felt a little horrible he hadn't noticed. His eye bags, his slowness solving the puzzles, his general exhaustion, even though it may be late into the evening, Riddle usually wasn't this tired at night. Trey had just focused so much on dealing with Riddle's regressed state he didn't notice the obvious signs that he was struggling with his nightmares again. 

Now's the question of what to do about it. Since his overblot, Trey has had a lot of experience helping Riddle when he's struggling with nightmares, but Riddle reacts so differently when he's regressed, so all that experience pretty much goes out the window.

He couldn't even fall back on the memories of helping his siblings with nightmares when they were kids because they only got them occasionally, usually about pointless silly things. It wasn't the chronic dreams of real-life traumatic memories that Riddle would get. You can't just say “it was all a dream. It's not real” when the dream was about something that actually happened. 

“I know it's scary to try and go to sleep again, but you're just gonna feel worse if you make yourself stay up.”

“That's fine.” Riddle spits out. 

Trey sighs “you know, I also get nightmares. I get it. Sometimes it feels really scary to go to sleep, but you have to. It's horrible for your body to stay up, and it'll make you feel worse mentally. Who knows, maybe you got it out of your system last night, and now you'll have good dreams.” 

“No.” Riddle looked frustrated, bringing his hands up to pull on the sides of the longer pieces of his hair framing his face, the soft blanket falling off his shoulders. “I won't!” 

“Riddle…” Trey says softly. He notices Riddle tugging harder and harder at his hair, almost pulling out stands of it, and decides to do something. When he leans forward with his hand out to try and guide Riddle's hands away, the redhead's eyes widen, and he pushes himself away from Trey, accidentally hitting the table behind him hard.

Riddle curls into himself, his back burning from where it hit the edge of the table. He speaks before Trey is able to. “I'm sorry!” He cries. “I won't be bad. I'll go to bed. I'm sorry.” 

Trey is stunned for a moment, having no idea what to say. He watches Riddle fight really hard to stop crying, but his upper body keeps twitching uncomfortably due to him trying to keep everything in. 

“Riddle, if you need to cry it's okay. You don't have to stop yourself. I'm not gonna judge you.” 

“m’ not supposed to cry. Mama says I'm too old to be crying” his voice is strained from forcing his tears down. 

“You're never ‘too old’ to cry. Everyone does it sometimes.”

Riddle shakes his head. “It's in’proper to cry in front of others.”

“Did your mom say that too?” 

Riddle nods. 

Trey sighs. “Well, I don't believe that's true, but even so, it's just you and me right now, and it's not improper to me so you can let yourself cry all you need.”

Riddle curls in on himself a little more, unsure. 

“You know I'm not upset with you, and that I'd never try to hurt you?”

Riddle makes a face that seems like a ‘no’. 

“Well then I'll say it. I'm not upset with you, and I'll never ever try to hurt you.” 

Riddle stays as he is but Trey thinks he looks a tiny bit more convinced. 

“ ……. How about for tonight, I say with you here so that if you get any bad dreams you can have someone here to help you through it.” 

Riddle makes eye contact with him. “I'm not allowed to have sleepovers.”

Trey chuckles. “Sure you are. Heartslabyul rule 105: ‘All changes in sleeping arrangements must be submitted to the housewarden to be pre-approved.’ You're the housewarden, so as long as you approve of it, it's alright. No rules are being broken.” 

Riddle considered it for a long moment before nodding. 

“Good.” Trey smiled. Now we should get ready for bed. Here.” Trey got up slowly, not wanting to risk accidentally startling Riddle again, and grabbed a pair of both of their sleepwear. Trey was incredibly happy he had the idea of keeping a pair of his in Riddle's dresser. 

Riddle wordlessly grabbed the change of clothes from Trey and shut himself in the bathroom to change while Trey changed in the room. 

After he was done, Trey knocked on the bathroom door. “Can I come in?” He heard a soft ‘mmh hhm’ form behind the door and opened it to Riddle finishing buttoning the final button on his sleep-shirt. 

“Let's brush our teeth.” Trey smiled. 

Riddle grumbled a bit but complied anyway. After they were done, Trey managed to convince him to brush one more time ‘just in case’. 

As they finished that, Riddle started to walk away, but Trey guided him back to where he was. “It sounded like you hit your back pretty hard earlier. Does it hurt?” 

Riddle shakes his head no. 

“Can I see?” Riddle pouts but turns around to show him anyway. 

Trey breathes in through his teeth after he lifts the back of Riddle's shirt. A bit below his shoulder blades is a bright red line that's destined to bruise horribly. 

“Stay there.” Riddle looked over his shoulder to watch Trey going through the drawers in the bathroom. 

“Ah, here it is.” He pulls out a bruise cream. “This may feel a little cold, sorry bout that.” He lifts Riddle's shirt again and gently applies the cream. Riddle shivvers a bit at the feeling at first, but doesn't show any other signs of discomfort. “There you go. We're all done. Now, let's go to bed.” 

Trey grabs Riddle's hand and leads him to the bed. After they laid down on opposite sides, Trey glanced over at Riddle. 

“Are you still feeling afraid?” 

Riddle nods. 

“Do you want me to hold you again?” 

Riddle nods harder. 

As Trey brings the smaller boy into his embrace, he can feel Riddle quietly crying into his shirt. 

“Just remember I'm right here. If anything scares you, I'll be there to fight it off." He pets his partner's hair gently.

Crying a little harder, Riddle pushed himself even closer to Trey. Despite his exhaustion, Trey makes sure to stay awake until he was absolutely certain Riddle was asleep. Once he did, he used his magic to flick off the lights and joined him in slumber.

─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Luckily, Riddle had managed to sleep through the night, but when they woke up, he was back to his regular headspace.

Trey waited for Riddle to bring up anything from last night, but it never came. If Riddle was uncomfortable talking about these things, Trey wouldn't push it, especially not so early in the morning. 

He felt like he was making a little progress with regressed Riddle, but he couldn't say the same for regular Riddle. He supposed things like this just took time, but he wished he could know what his partner was really thinking about everything. 

Chapter Text

Things had been good for about a week. 

Riddle hadn't sent any ‘please’ messages, and he appeared a little more lively. Trey got to see a lot more of Riddle's sweet smiles in conversation. He had even caught him giggling and smiling while tending to the hedgehogs. 

It seems that helping Riddle through his regression might be working in some way. Or maybe he was being a bit too hopeful. 

It was a Saturday, but it was already around 8:30 in the morning and Trey hadn't heard anything from Riddle. It felt strange considering Riddle was always up at 6:00 am sharp, it didn't matter if it was the weekend or a weekday. He always stuck to his routine. 

There were a number of possible reasons as to why he hadn't seen Riddle in any of the communal areas, but Trey wanted to check in on him anyway. It had been a while since he saw him regressed, and he wasn't naive enough to believe Riddle was completely over it. It seemed just about due. 

He knocked on the door. “Riddle, are you awake?”

The muffled grumble from behind the door made Trey feel a little guilty for waking him. If he slept past his alarm, he probably needed the rest. 

“You can go back to bed, I just wanna make sure you're okay.” 

Nothing. Yeah, he probably is regressed, Trey thought. 

He tried the doorknob and as usual, it was unlocked. Upon opening the door though he was shocked. 

Riddle was sat up in his bed, wide-eyed and trembling, but clearly not regressed. The room had a faint stench of urine. It didn't take too long for Trey to connect the dots. 

Riddle's hands were roughly gripping the blankets, his tense fits shaking. He flapped his mouth a bit like he was trying to say something but couldn't get it out. 

Trey shut the door behind him. “I'll get you a change of sheets and we can get those cleaned, alright?” 

“No!” Riddle finally got out, looking down at his lap. “Don't talk to me like I'm some helpless toddler! I'll clean it myself!” Riddle's tremors increased, his breathing quick and uneven. 

“I'm not trying to. I just want to help.” Trey raised his hands up defensively. 

“UghhAGH!!!” Riddle slammed his hands down hard into his lap, quickly ripped the blankets off him, and stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Trey stands still as he hears the bathroom lock click into place with far too much force. He doesn't move until he hears the shower start up. 

Despite Riddle's protests, leaving the sheets wet for much longer may be detrimental to the mattress, so he gets to work stripping the bed. 

Once he finally got a good look at the sheets, he saw the stain wasn't all that big, but it did look like it might have been there for a bit, which wasn't great.

He carefully removes all the sheets, balls them up, and takes them to the dorm laundry area. 

Lucky, at this time of day the laundry room was always pretty empty. Thank goodness, because if Cater caught wind he was washing what were clearly Riddle's sheets first thing in the morning, he'd never hear the end of the teasing and innuendo. While he's out, he grabs a handful of things to try and clean off the mattress with.

Riddle was still in the shower when he got back to the room, so he got to work cleaning.

Using a paper towel, he soaks up the remaining wetness then mixes together vinegar and water in a spray bottle to spray around the soiled areas. 

This was one thing he did learn from his younger siblings. One of them had a difficult time with bed-wetting well past what was age appropriate, and while this was one of the things his parents didn't require him to help with, he wanted to help anyway. He knew it was really hard on them and just wanted to do anything he could to make it easier on his family. 

He couldn't stand helplessly doing nothing while his family struggled and with his siblings, the shop, and their financial issues, they always seemed to be struggling in some way or another. 

He probably should have waited longer for the mixture to set, but he was nervous Riddle would come out of the shower soon, so after it felt long enough, he used more paper towels to soak up the mixture and sprinkled some baking soda on it to help with the odor. 

As he waits for that to dry, he goes to the dresser and pulls out a change of clothes, leaving them by the bathroom door. 

Eventually, he feels confident enough about the dryness of the mattress and starts putting on a new, clean pair of sheets. As he's getting close to done, he hears the shower shut off. 

Once he lays down the final blanket, he hears the shuffling in the bathroom come to a stop. 

“There's new clothes in front of the door.” 

There's a slight pause and then the door unlocks and he watches a slim hand snatch the clothes from the side of the door and quickly close it again. 

Trey quietly snickers. He hates to see Riddle upset, but sometimes he could be so cute when he's mad. Emphasis on sometimes. 

After a while, Riddle finally comes out of the bathroom, his hair dripping and skin damp. He sits on the side of the bed. Neither of them say anything for a while until Riddle speaks up. 

“I told you I could clean it myself.” He pouts. 

“I told you I wanted to help.” Trey retorts. 

Riddle pauses. “... You should feel ashamed.” 

“For cleaning?” Trey raises an eyebrow. 

“The person you're dating just wet themselves like a toddler and instead of immediately breaking up with them, you cleaned their mess. That's shameful.” 

“If I wet the bed would you break up with me?” 

“Well … no.” He looked to the side, embarrassed. 

“See” 

“But that's different.” he looks up. 

“It's really not.” He smirks. 

Riddle scoffs and looks away. 

“Look, I know this really isn't what you wanna hear right now, but you told me not to treat you like a child, so I'm not gonna dance around the subject. Bed-wetting can be a major symptom of age regression. It's really common.” 

“This again?” Riddle mumbles. 

“I just think you should try and look into it is all.”

“I think you've enabled this enough.” He crosses his arms. 

“Enabled?” He raised an eyebrow, a little offended. 

“I was handling it fine myself before you started to ‘help’ and now every time I go into that state it's like I'm falling further and further down it. It's gotten so much worse.” 

“And you think ignoring it and doing nothing would be better?” 

“I certainly don't think I would have wet myself.” He rolled his eyes. 

They both took a moment to think, then Riddle spoke again. “I'm not saying this is your fault. I know you have the best intentions, but I can't keep doing this. I'm a housewarden and top of my class. I need to be capable and strong. I'm supposed to be a good peer and guide my classmates to be the best they can be. How can I do that when I'm constantly losing control over myself and acting like a baby? That's not something anyone would want to look up to.” 

He takes a breath. “And what about later? What about when I'm in grad school or when I become a doctor? Nobody would ever want to be my patient if they knew I behaved in such a way. It's shameless.” He frowned. 

“... I thought you wanted to be a lawyer?” 

Riddle looked absolutely defeated. “Well, I'm going to be a doctor anyway so ….” 

Trey gave a sympathetic expression. “Did you talk with your mom about it?”

Riddle sighed. “Weren't we talking about something else? Is this really important right now?”

“Right, right, sorry.” He stored the topic in his mind for later. “I don't think it's that shameful. I think the problem right now is just that you can't control it very well. Maybe, if we get this to be a thing where you can control it and feel comfortable, it could be good for you. It's not anyone's business what you engage in off the clock, and from what I've seen, you're still just as capable of a student and mentor even while struggling with this. It doesn't make you less worthy of anything.” 

“Yes, but if they knew I-” 

“but they don't.” Trey interpreted, leaning forward. “It's not about them, or your future patients, or your parents, or anyone else in your life, it's about us. Only me and you know, and if it's what you want, we can go the rest of our lives keeping it that way. Don't think about other people. How would you go about this if it was just you and me?” 

“Just us?” He looked troubled, scrunching his eyebrows together like he had never even considered looking at this from outside the perspective of what others might think of him. “I- I don't know.” 

“Well, … let's start with a smaller question. Do you like when I help you through that headspace?” 

Riddle considered. “ ….. It's hard to say. I- …. I don't like the way I feel most of the time when I'm like that. I always feel quite … f-frightend but” he looks at the floor. “I do like the way it feels when you're taking care of me.” 

He swallows and continues. “When you … hold me ... or look after me, it feels almost warm in a way. It is quite pleasant, but I'm not sure if the unpleasantness it takes to get there is worth the reward.”

“If we found a way to reduce the fear you feel during it, would you be willing to keep trying to work through it?” 

“Maybe I-” he sighed. “I don't know. If I keep having accidents like this morning, then definitely not.” 

“I'll look into it then. As I said, bed-wetting can be a symptom of regression. Surely there's someone out there who had the same problem and found a workaround. Were you feeling regressed this morning when it happened?”

Riddle frowned. “Somewhat. I wasn't all that aware when it was happening, but I know I was feeling in a different state of mind when I silenced my alarm this morning. I would never have silenced it otherwise.” 

“Alright, I'll try and research. I'm sure we can figure this out.” 

“You really are dead set on this, aren't you?” Riddle asked. His face blank. 

“I just think this has a good chance of being able to help with how you've been feeling. Ever since … what happened at the start of this year, I can tell you've been struggling, but you never open up. This is the closest I've got to actually feeling like I can help you.”

“Right.” Trey couldn't properly read the face Riddle was making, but he could tell he wasn't convinced by what Trey was saying. “Well fine, I'll remember to message you if I start to feel off. In the meantime, I'm going to go get caught up with my responsibilities. You should do the same. We've wasted a lot of time today.” 

“It's not even ten yet, but alright. Lemme wash my hands first, they're still gross from cleaning the mattress.” 

Riddle pulled a face of absolute disgust. “You've been sitting here this whole time with urine covered hands!? What exactly is wrong with you?” 

Trey chucked, embarrassed. “You were in there after I cleaned so I couldn't.” 

“Then you should have gone the second I got out. Go clean them n- NO!” Riddle stood up quickly, stomping to the bathroom door and opening it for him. “You're not to touch a single thing in my room until your filthy hands have been cleaned.” 

Trey chuckled again “fine fine” and walked through the door to wash his hands. 

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

It had been around three days since the bed-wetting incident. 

The day itself was hectic. An important test for the third years was coming up and Trey had agreed to make some desserts for an event happening in a few days. From classes to club meets to studies to baking, he was absolutely swamped. 

That's why he hadn't noticed Riddle's message until he finally had a second to relax after taking everything out of the oven. 

(7:18 pm) Riddle ♡ : pl

He checked the clock over the oven, 8:04 . 

Great, so Riddle had been sitting there alone and scared for around an hour after Trey had promised to make the experience less scary. He felt like such a dimwit. 

He tried to tidy up the kitchen as quickly as he could. He barely even thought to take off his apron before he started making his way to Riddle's room. 

As usual, his knocks were met with nothing. 

“I'm gonna come in.” He announced as he opened the door. 

Quickly, he spotted Riddle sitting propped up against his pillows at the head of his bed. The redhead's legs were curled close to his body, but he wasn't holding them tightly like he had before. Instead, one hand was draped over his stomach, loosely gripping the sheets and the other was pressed up to his mouth, where he was sucking and nipping at the skin on the knuckle of his index finger. His face was a little red with dried tear tracks, but he wasn't actively crying anymore. 

“Riddle, I'm so sorry. I didn't see your notification. I promise I wasn't ignoring you.” 

As he stepped towards the other, he noticed Riddle's phone laying face down on the floor near the edge of the bed. He picked it up to check for any cracks, but as he did the screen lit up.

Missed call (7) - Mother - 1h ago

Ah, well that gives a few answers. 

He sets the phone down on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, looking over at his partner. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Riddle doesn't speak, but he does make eye contact with him. His eyes flick over Trey, looking wide and empty, like he didn't really know what was going on. 

Being close up, Trey now has a better look at the other boy, and he notices the index finger held up to his mouth is absolutely covered in spit. It was far astray from the Riddle who was ordering Trey to clean off his filthy hands. 

“Here” Trey grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and slowly reached to take Riddle's finger, but when he got close, the other boy dodged it. 

“You're gonna be so mad at me later if I let you do that.” He tried again but gave up after Riddle moved away once more. He sighs. “Alright, if that makes you feel better, it's okay for now I guess, but that's horrible for your teeth.” 

He kicked off his shoes and readjusted himself to lay next to Riddle. The thought of reaching out or offering some form of comfort crossed his mind, but Riddle’s words from their prior conversation echoed in his head. 

Although it would make Trey feel more content to guide him through his choices, Riddle needed some space to reach his own decisions about things. A sense of independence could possibly bring a greater feeling of comfort to Riddle when he's like this. It was something Trey knew the other boy usually found solace in when he wasn't regressed. 

After a while of Riddle gnawing at his knuckle and squirming around a bit, he finally reaches for Trey, weekly grabbing at his shirt. 

Trey chuckles. “I didn't even have to ask if you wanted me to hold you.” He smiles and brings Riddle to sit in his lap, tightly wrapping his arms around his upper body. 

The squirming continues for a bit, but after a while Riddle seems content and starts to nip and chew at the collar of Trey's jacket. He's tempted to tell him to stop, the grinding is such a horrible thing for his teeth, and spit is starting to soak into the fabric, but it's otherwise harmless. 

Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing echoes loudly through the room. Riddle jumps and grabs at Trey as hard as he can, whining. His grip was much weaker than Trey was expecting.

“Hey, it's alright.” With one arm he tightens his grip on Riddle and with the other he checks his phone. Luckily, it was just Cater. Lord knows how much trouble Riddle would be in if he kept missing his mother's calls. 

He silences the ringing and brings his arm back to cradle the younger boy. “It's okay, it was just Cater. You're alright.” 

“Mama’s mad.” Riddle mumbled. His voice was much higher and more disconnected than he had heard from him previously. Trey almost couldn't understand what he was saying, especially with his face still being pressed into his jacket. 

“I know.” He pet Riddle's hair with one hand. “Your mama’s really scary when she's upset, huh?”

Riddle nodded furiously, his hair scratching against Trey’s neck. 

“Well it's okay. You don't have to deal with any of that for now. Right now, I've got you.” He nuzzles his face into Riddle's hair and feels some of the tension ease from the smaller boy's body. 

They hold that position for a few minutes, cuddling and nuzzling into one another. Trey petting Riddle's hair, and Riddle still chewing at Trey’s collar and playing with the fabric of Trey's jacket with his hands. 

Once again, they were startled by a loud sound, this time a knocking at Riddle's door. 

“Yo, is Trey in there?” Cater's voice calls out. 

He feels Riddle tremble a little. “Uh yeah, I'm in here.” Trey speaks. 

“Dude idk if you meant to put those cookies in the kitchen away, but the first years are eyeing them like crrrrazy. I'ma be so real, I already watched Ace steal like three of them. If you don't put them away soon they're gonna be #allgone.” 

Trey sighed, frustrated. “Yeah, sorry I must have forgotten. I'll … I'll come out and put them away in a sec.” 

“Gotcha!” He hears Cater step away from the door.

“... Alright Riddle, I need to go real quick, but I'll be right back.” As he sat up, Riddle’s head shot up, and he gave him the most cute but horribly sad face Trey’d ever seen. 

“It's just for a little bit.” 

Riddle whined. 

Trey sighed. He considered maybe asking Cater to put them away for him but swiftly perished the thought. He didn't want him to come to any conclusions about why Trey didn't just go and do it himself. Riddle not being the one to answer when someone was knocking at his door was suspicious enough. 

Maybe if he gave Riddle something comforting that reminded him of Trey, he would relax enough to let him leave. 

He stood and picked up Riddle. It didn't take much maneuvering with the way they were sitting, and he walked over to the dresser. 

After last time, Trey had shoved the bag of items he bought far back into Riddle’s dresser where he was fairly certain he wouldn't look. It seemed he was right as all the items remained exactly as they were when he left them. He tried to pick up the blanket, but the stuffed rabbit fell out with it so he grabbed both. 

Walking Riddle back to the bed, he set him down on the edge of it and finally released him. Riddle frowned, but before he could protest Trey started wrapping the blanket around him. 

“Is that comfortable?” 

Riddle nodded, his eyes hollow and confused. 

“Good. I'm gonna give you something, but you don't have to take it if you don't want to. I won't be upset.” 

Riddle nodded again and Trey handed him the stuffed rabbit. 

At first, Riddle just eyed the thing, but eventually he slowly reached out to grab it. Trey helped him maneuver it into his hands, not wanting him to drop it with his weak grip. Riddle pet its ears for a moment, then set it in his lap, still gripping it. 

“The bunny’s gonna watch over you while I'm gone, okay?” He gently tucked a section of hair behind Riddle’s ear.

Riddle brought the bunny closer to himself and nodded very hesitantly. 

“Alright, I'll be right back. I promise.”

As Trey left, he noticed Riddle did look upset, but he didn't whine or cry about it. He felt that was a good enough sign. 

Apparently Cater hadn't made any attempt to stop what was happening in the kitchen. The sight that greeted him there was Ace and Deuce hunched over the tray, trying to conceal their misdeeds.

“I know you two aren't ones for memorization, but surely you're aware of rule fifty three, right?” Trey's voice rang out. 

“Shit!” Ace shot up and whipped to face Trey. A comedic amount of crumbs still remained around his mouth.

Deuce looked riddled with guilt. “We're so sorry! We didn't know- or we didn't mean to- it's just, Ace was the one who- … S-SORRY!” 

“It was Cater's fault! We saw him eating some we thought they were up for grabs!” Ace crossed his arms. 

“Nice try,” Trey smirked, reaching for a container to put the leftover cookies in. “Cater doesn't like sweets, and I said nothing about them not being up for grabs, so clearly you already knew that. 

Ace grumbled. “Ugh fine. What do we have to do to get you to not tell Riddle about this?” 

Trey chuckled as he sorted the treats into the container, only leaving three cookies out. “Well, I mentioned rule fifty three ‘stolen items must be replaced’ . He'd be quite upset if we ignored a rule, don't you think?” 

“Replaced? I don't think cookies made by us would be nearly as good as yours.” Deuce frowned. 

“The rule says nothing about it being replaced by the same thing. Something of equal value would work well enough.” he wrote ‘do not eat’ on a sticky-note and stuck it to the container. 

“What!? That's not at all how that rule works!” Ace pouted. 

“Hmm yeah, we should ask Riddle to be sure.” 

“Fine! What exactly is it you want from us?” 

“Well, there's a small local farm a little off campus that has very sweet strawberries they let you pick off the vine. They're incredible, but you need to get there quickly once they reach ripeness cause they go fast. In short, I need you two to wake up incredibly early to get them for me.” 

“Ughhhh” Ace complained. “This is so not a fair trade-off.” 

Trey smirked deviously. “You know who we can ask to see if it's fair?” 

“FINE! You're so lucky I'm already in hot water with the housewarden right now or we would never agree to this.” 

“We?” Deuce spoke up. “You're the one who said they were fine to eat! I barely had any!” 

“Yeah, but you still had some , didn't you?” Ace grins. 

“Yeah, but YOU said-” 

Trey tunes out the bickering as he sets the cookie container aside and plates the three he left behind on a small bread plate. 

While walking off, he speaks to the first years. “Work that out amongst yourselves. As long as I get what I need, Riddle will never know about it.” He glanced at them. “oh, and if you're already in hot water with the housewarden, I would head to bed soon. It's almost curfew.” 

He hears faint grumbles of complaint as he walks away 

On instinct, he knocked on Riddle’s door, but didn't wait for any sort of response before opening the door. He knew he wasn't going to get one anyway. 

In the time Trey had spent in the kitchen, Riddle had seemed to acquaint himself with the stuffed rabbit. He was curled up tight again, this time with the rabbit between his legs and his chest. It was being held so tight, it was almost like Riddle was afraid it would run away if given the opportunity. 

Trey decided not to comment on it at the risk of unintentionally making him self-conscious. “I brought something for you. I'm not sure if you're all that hungry though.” He walks to the small loveseat area of Riddle’s room and sets the plate down on the coffee table. 

Riddle keeps his gaze on Trey but doesn't make any attempt to move.

“You can come over here if you'd like.” Trey speaks hesitantly. 

Riddle keeps looking at him. That lost look in his eyes makes it hard to gauge what he's feeling, but he eventually makes an effort to get up. The way he stumbled and tripped over himself made Trey think he'd been sitting in that bed for far too long, but he slowly made his way to the loveseat, sitting next to Trey and immediately curling up into himself again, smothering the bunny. 

“Here you can have some if you want. Too many got eaten, so I'm gonna have to make a new batch anyway.” He grabbed one cookie for himself and handed the other to Riddle. 

Originally, Riddle didn't take it. Once again, he simply stared at it. This time he looked almost stressed. 

Trey was about to say he didn't need to take it, but Riddle used the hand that wasn't gripping the rabbit to take the dessert, then ripped off a small piece to start eating it. 

Relief washed over Trey’s body, and he allowed himself to eat his own cookie. 

It was freaking him out a bit seeing Riddle in a much younger state. Or at least that's what he thought was happening. 

Based strictly off their time together as kids, Trey's guess was that Riddle was usually in the head space of a seven or eight year old when he was regressed. The way he acted was incredibly similar to what Trey remembered him to be like then. 

Now, he really couldn't tell. 

He seemed to be mainly non-verbal but still had the ability to speak and understand others. Trey’s assumption was that he was probably feeling around three or four years old, but he didn't know Riddle back then and now that he was really thinking about it, they'd never even really spoken about that time in his life before. 

He wasn't exactly acting like a typical three or four year old but what would a kid that young even be like if they had been subjected to the kind of expectations Riddle’s mother had? Trey chalked the eccentricities of his current behavior up to that.

Sneaking a glance, he watched Riddle eat. Riddle was ripping off small sections of the cookie, putting it up to his mouth, chewing with his hand still over his mouth, lowering his hand and resting it on the seat, then repeating. Was he eating so weird because of the age thing?

The more he watched, the stranger it seemed until he saw it. When Riddle was placing his hand down on the couch, there was still food in it. The more he watched, it became increasingly apparent what he was doing. He was just pretending to eat. Every ‘bite’ just ended up on the cushion of the loveseat. 

Why though? It was rare for Riddle to refuse desserts. He didn't think that would be much different even in his regressed state. On top of that, Riddle could have just told him no. He had no issue doing so previously when he was regressed. Was he afraid he was going to hurt Trey’s feelings?

Trey sat up. “Riddle, it's getting a little late. It's not great to eat too much sugar before bed. Do you think we should call it a night?” He tried his best to give him an out without revealing he knew Riddle was faking. 

Riddle nodded and handed his half ‘eaten’ cookie to Trey, who set it back down on the plate. It was the first thing tonight that Riddle hadn't hesitated before doing. 

“Come on, let's get you ready for bed.” Trey cringed as he helped Riddle up and chunks of cookie bounced on the seat, revealing the mess of crumbs left behind. He was just going to have to beg for Riddle's forgiveness about that later. Cleaning it now would make Riddle aware he knew of his act. 

After he was dressed in his sleepwear and had thoroughly brushed his teeth, Trey laid him down and tucked him into bed. Riddle still had his stuffed rabbit held tightly to his body. It pleased Trey to see he'd already grown so attached to it. Riddle wasn't allowed very many toys growing up, so he was anxious he wouldn't accept it. 

“Good night Riddle. I'll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down to kiss Riddle's head. Riddle still wore that stressed, confused expression, but he didn't say anything. 

Getting up, Trey flicked off the light. As he opened the door to leave, he glanced back at Riddle who was sitting upright looking upset, his brows lightly knit together. 

“Shit” Trey sighed quietly. He really did want to stay with his partner, but he thought about what Riddle said, about ‘enabling him’. On top of that, he worried staying with him could cause Riddle to stay regressed throughout the night, resulting in another accident. 

He closed the door and sat on the edge of Riddle’s bed again, flicking the lamp back on. “Riddle, I'm sorry I can't stay with you.” 

Riddle's frown depended. 

“I know, I also don't love it, but it's for the best.” 

Riddle didn't budge, still sat up with a horribly sad face. 

Trey let out a quiet breath. “It's just like before, right? I won't be here, but you'll have your bunny to look out for you. It'll be okay.” 

Riddle still looked depressed but looked down ay the bunny. 

“... Have you given it a name yet?” 

Riddle was silent for a moment but quietly mumbled out. “... Ali” 

“Ali? That's a sweet name.” he smiled. “Well, Ali is still gonna be here to keep you company. You won't be alone.” 

Riddle hugged Ali tighter but kept his frown. Trey guided him back down and tucked him in again. 

“I promise you'll be okay. It's just your room. Everything is safe and comfortable here. Plus, if you need me I'm only a few rooms away.” 

Riddle nodded a bit but looked displeased. 

Trey kissed his head again and shut off the light. This time when he opened the door, Riddle was still tucked comfortably into the sheets. 

Walking back to his room and getting ready for bed, he was smothered with a feeling of unease. He didn't know why. Logically, he knew Riddle was fine and would get through the night. After all, he wasn't actually a little kid, but even that knowledge didn't ease his discomfort. 

He hated to admit it, but he was getting something out of this just as much as Riddle was. 

Sometimes when he would take care of Riddle, he could feel himself slipping into what almost felt like his own special headspace. Something about truly caring for someone else made him feel strange, content in a way he usually couldn't reach. When it was good it felt great, but when it was bad …

Let's say he was starting to understand what Riddle meant when he spoke about the ever-present fear he felt being in that headspace. 

Trey tried to reassure himself, repeating that Riddle would be okay alone, that the worst that would happen was that he'd have another accident to clean up for Riddle tomorrow, but the image of Riddle regressed and curled up alone and scared in bed continuously flashed in his mind. He felt sick not being able to be there for him. It was a deep anxiety that shuddered throughout his body. 

Sleep didn't come easy to him, but at some point his nervous thoughts blended into slumber. 

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Trey's body woke him at some point in the night. He reached for his cup only to realize he was so distracted last night he forgot to refill it. 

Groaning, he sits up and looks at the clock on his bedside table. 

2:18 AM

He grumbles as he slowly stands up and starts his trek towards the kitchen. As he makes it out his bedroom door, he suddenly stumbles over something in the hall. 

Squinting, he makes out the silhouette of Riddle curled up on the floor next to the door of Trey’s bedroom. He looks up at Trey, clearly having just woken up after Trey tripped over him. 

“Riddle?!” Trey whisper yells. 

Riddle curls up tighter. Trey can make out that he's still holding onto his rabbit. 

“Damn” Trey breathes out, shaking his head rapidly to try and will away the drowsiness he still felt. “Just … come in Riddle. You can not be out here like this.” 

Trey tried to guide Riddle up, but he curled into himself tighter, clearly feeling frightened. Trey wanted to take the time to reassure him, but he couldn't. Not when he was out in public like this. 

Riddle was already hesitant about the whole regression thing. If someone was to see him in the hall like this and Riddle caught wind of that, there's no way he'd ever agree to keep doing this. 

These moments that Trey cared for so much, that he was starting to grow to depend on, would be taken away from him. He couldn't stand that thought. 

He gripped Riddle's forearm and guided him into the room. His grip wasn't too strong, but it was clear Riddle really didn't like it. After guiding him to sit on the bed, he flicked his lamp on. 

“Riddle, you can not be out there when you're like this. Someone could have seen you.” He spoke quietly, his voice still rough around the edges from being asleep. 

Riddle stayed quiet, his eyes wide with fear but otherwise unreadable. Trey could see his arms lightly trembling. 

“You know why you can't do that right? You really shouldn't be in any communal space.” Trey stressed. 

Riddle kept silent, still staring at him with the same look. 

He sighed. “Why didn't you just wake me up?”

“I’d bother you.” Riddle quietly and slowly mumbled. 

Trey let out a breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We talked about this before. If you need something, you need to message me. I've told you this multiple times.”

Riddle's lip trembled. “I'm sorry. I messed up” small tears finally spilled out from the corners of his eyes. He spoke breathy and almost inaudibly “I want to be good. Please don't stop loving me too.” 

Trey froze where he stood, a sickening wave of dread washing over him. He was so tired and stressed he was hardly thinking straight and now he'd pushed Riddle too far when he was already scared and in a much younger headspace than he was accustomed to.  

That stupid call with his mother. That's what started all this. It was why Riddle was so far regressed to begin with. He has no idea what could have been said in that call, but if it was making Riddle feel this unlovable it couldn't have been good. 

Trey felt so stupid.

Slowly, he sat down next to Riddle and waited quietly for a moment. Riddle was still working hard to keep his composure and stop from sobbing, but the tears were already flowing freely. 

“I'm so sorry I didn't mean to make you feel that way.” he looked at Riddle, but the redhead kept his gaze locked on the floor. 

“of course I won't stop loving you. I'm never going to stop loving you. It's okay for you to mess up. Hell I do it too. I mean, I didn't handle this well at all, so I've got that to apologize for.” 

Riddle finally makes eye contact and Trey takes it as a sign to try and wrap his arm around Riddle's shoulder. When Riddle doesn't shy away, he starts rubbing his upper arm.

“I'm so sorry I pushed you away like that. I was thinking about the future when you were right in front of me struggling now. I should have realized.”

Riddle leaned into Trey’s touch. He tried rubbing his face to wipe away the tears, but no matter what he did more kept coming.

Trey leaned over to grab a tissue and wiped at Riddle's leaking nose. “Stay with me tonight. I was really missing you anyway. I'm happy to have you here.” 

Riddle slowly nodded, so Trey shut off the light and guided him to lay beside him.

“I love you Riddle. Nothing's gonna change that.” He spoke quietly as he cradled Riddle's head to his chest. 

“... Love you.” Riddle responded very quietly. 

Trey fell asleep much easier than before. 

Chapter Text

Riddle awoke far earlier than Trey. Despite not having his alarm clock, his body's biological clock always succeeded in keeping him on time.

For once, he didn't have the urge to stay in Trey’s arms a little longer. The stupid stuffed rabbit still lying between their bodies mocked him. There was nothing more he wanted than to leave this behind and start the day. 

Unfortunately, Trey’s death grip around his body made it difficult to slip out. It was almost like Trey’s sleeping subconscious could tell his partner was trying to escape and held on tighter, refusing to let him go. Riddle had to shimmy very uncomfortably and slowly to attempt not to wake the other boy. It took a few minutes before he was finally freed from the cocoon of his partner's arms. 

Glancing down at Trey’s sleeping face, he didn't know what to feel. Of course he loved him. Of course he wanted to cherish every moment he had left with him, but a twinge of hurt ran through his body. He wasn't sure why or what to do with it, but it was undeniably there. 

Maybe he just needed a second away to reconstitute himself. It's always troublesome for any couple to spend too much time together, right? It's only natural.

Riddle snatches the stuffed rabbit off the mattress and quietly slips out of the room. It's early enough that there's little to no students in the hall. Riddle relishes in it. Although he wasn't necessarily a morning person, this was one thing he cherished about waking up early, getting to experience the world without all the crowds and noise. 

As he makes it back to his room, he sits on his bed, taking in the silence for a moment. Slowly, he lifts both his hands and holds the rabbit in them just a little above his lap. 

How could he be so attached to this thing when he's regressed? It's just thread and fluffy fabric stitched together to give thoughtless children something to hold so they stop bothering their parents for attention. It couldn't love him or care for him. It was a pointless toy, and despite what his recent behavior might indicate, he wasn't a child. 

Getting up, he walks to his desk and shoves the offending thing in his school bag. He wanted to throw it away now, but he didn't want to risk someone in the dorm finding it and linking it back to him. No, he would find a secluded trash can or dumpster on campus and dump it there. No one would ever know it was in his possession and he would never have to think about it again. 

Sighing, he starts to get ready, ironing his shirt and magically changing into his school clothes. If he went to go feed the hedgehogs, then the horses, then breakfast, then study in the library until classes started, he would feel much better. Keeping the mind busy was the best medicine for these pointless thoughts he's been having. If you have time to think over such pointless things, then clearly you have too much free time.

That's what he'd like to think. He wished it could be that easy. Throughout his morning he kept having to redirect his thoughts. It seemed even Vopal could tell he wasn't fully present. He needed to get himself together before the humans could catch onto that fact as well. 

Studying is the closest he gets to what he was aiming for. It kept his brain focused enough his mind couldn't wander. It was perfect, up until the first bell rang and he had to start heading to class. 

The halls are much more congested than they were this morning. Everything is loud and stuffy. For some reason, it makes Riddle's chest tighten in a way it didn't on most days. He hasn't felt this way since just before his overblot when he was obsessively scanning for any rules being broken except this time there was nothing to find. His compulsions had nowhere to land. They bounced around his chest until he felt like he was going to be sick. 

Still, there's never any excuse to skip class. 

He was seated in his first period early with his notebook and textbook out, color-coded pens set on his desk, ready to diligently take notes and ask questions. 

He was seated in his second period right on time, only his notebook out with his color-coded pens on his desk. His posture slouched over.

He stumbled into his third period a few minutes late with only his notebook and one black pen set on the desk, looking exhausted.

Every second that ticked by his resolve dwindled. He needed to focus.

If he didn't take proper notes, he would fail these assignments and if he failed the assignments he probably wouldn't do well on the test and if he started flunking tests that damn scam artist would take his place as top of the class then he wouldn't be able to get into the internship programs he wanted because they would think he was a good for nothing slacker and then his future would be ruined and his mother would be so disappointed in him. Sevens, what would his mother even do with him then ….

RIGHT! He was trying to get himself to focus on the class. Stop thinking, pay attention to the professor. 

……….. What are you going to do if this regression thing doesn't stop when you go back to your mother's for the summer? 

NO pay attention! Stop thinking pointless things. 

…. What would I do though? 

…. What would she think of me? 

…. Is Trey upset with me after last night? 

…. I don't have much time left with him, and I'm acting like such a nuisance. 

Why can't I just give him what he wants? I'm being so selfish.

Why do I have to act like this?

I can't please my mother, and I can't please Trey …

Riddle glanced at his now trembling hands. He can't take notes like this, not that the blank page below his hand indicated that was something he cared about in the first place. 

He felt stuck. He couldn't get up and leave, that would draw too much attention to himself, and a few students were already glancing his way, shocked that he wasn't participating. He tried to think about breathing but the quiver in his hands remained. 

Unthinkingly, he quietly grabbed his school bag from the floor and set it in his lap. Silently opening it up, he stuck both of his hands in and felt around. When his hands hit soft fluffy fabric, he stopped and took it into his hands. He started lightly petting the thing, his fingers sliding over its back a few times, then finding comfort going up and down its ears. 

Riddle let his head fall. He figured it was less embarrassing to believe he had fallen asleep than that he was fighting off tears. He tried to tell himself that he was only finding this comforting because the fabric was a pleasant texture to touch, but eventually he stopped fighting. It didn't matter why he found this comforting, he just did. 

When his thoughts seemed to ease and the trembling in his hands was reduced to a slight infrequent shake, he finally lifted his head. People weren't looking at him like his brain convinced him they would be, but the professor did glance over at him. 

On one hand, he was pleased he had such a good repertoire with the professors that they wouldn't call him out on something like that, but he was also a little agitated. His professors should be pushing him to be the best he can be, not letting him sleep during class. 

He didn't bother picking up his pen again. He already missed the first half of the lecture; the second half certainly would make a lot of sense to him.

His brain seemed to wear itself out from posing any more questions. Actually, it seemed to wear itself out completely. Every word the professor said went in one ear and out the other. He barely knew what was going on. 

Eventually, he recognized the noises of everyone packing up and snapped back to full consciousness. He waited until the professor had fully dismissed everyone before packing up. 

Unfortunately, Jade Leech of all people approached him. 

“Oh my, Rosehearts, I fear I have to ask if you're dying.” 

“Why? I know it's lunchtime but there is no need to make a claim on my corpse yet.” 

Jade chuckled. “You think so little of me. I'm just checking up on my peer” 

“Well, there's no need to.” Riddle made sure to angle his bag so Jade couldn't peek into it. “I had difficulty sleeping is all. It happens to the best of us ” 

“Hmm, of course. Well don't tell anyone, but Floyd often uses one of the empty classrooms as a napping spot during lunch. I can tell you the code for it if you'd like.” 

“He shouldn't be doing that. That's against the rules.” 

“Ahhh of course. Will you spare him for me?” Jade smiles in a way Riddle can't tell is sinister or not. 

“I suppose this once, but tell him to stop doing that.” Riddle started to walk off and Jade waved him goodbye. 

Riddle stalled a little, stepping aside in the hall to see if he had any snacks in his bag to eat. He was feeling a little better, but the thought of being in that crowded dining hall made him feel a little queasy. Of course, his luck had completely run dry today and there was nothing left in his bag. 

After collecting himself a bit, he finally made the trek to the dining hall. Peeking in, he looked around to see if there was somewhere empty to sit, but because of his stalling, the seats were all mostly full already. 

The only spot around people he knew was at a table with Ace, Deuce, Cater, some other third years, and Trey. 

Riddle frowned. He didn't want to sit with people who would all be able to immediately tell something was off with him, and Trey … he wanted to at least have a one-on-one with him first before being around him in a group setting. 

If Trey was actually upset with him, he didn't want to bring his mood down by hanging around him. Riddle was already in poor enough spirits, it would be pointless to drag Trey down with him. 

He spotted jade sitting near the door and sighed, begrudgingly walking up to him. 

“Sorry to bother you, but is the offer for that code still on the table?” 

Jade smiled. “Oh, what made you change your mind?”

“NEE! Goldfishie!” Floyd giggled. 

Riddle grimaced, choosing to ignore Floyd. “I. Suppose I was more exhausted than I had thought.” 

“Ahh that's fair enough. The classroom is in the south wing its E-4 and the code is 5836.”

“Ehhhhh? You're giving him my spot?” Floyd pouted. 

“I won't get you in trouble if that's what you're worried about,” Riddle finally acknowledges him. “and for what it's worth, I never plan on using it after this. It's all yours.” 

Azul chipped in, looking at Jade. “I can't believe you'd give out information like that for free.” 

“What's a little camaraderie between friends?” Jade smirked. 

“It's often difficult to gauge your sincerity, but thank you, I guess. I'll be sure to repay the favor to you at some point … within reason of course.” 

“Of course.” Jade chuckled.

As he walked away, he tried to look away from Jade’s table where Floyd was whining for ‘goldfishie to stay’ but accidently caught eyes with Trey. He quickly looked away and quickened his pace out of the room. 

He walked as fast as he could through the halls without breaking any rules trying to look for the room. At some point, he became convinced that Jade was playing some kind of cruel prank on him, but after a while he found it. 

Putting in the code, he opened the door to peek into the room. It looked exactly like all the other rooms in this area except with the chalkboards and decorations taken down as well as piles of random storage boxes stacked throughout the space. 

Riddle walked in. He didn't bother trying the lights. He was much too nervous someone would find him in here and get him in trouble. Eventually, he found purchase in a corner between a shelf and the wall. It was a tight spot, but it made him feel more comfortable for some reason. 

He's got a little under an hour to pass now what should he do?

He could do homework, but it was too dark to really see. Maybe he could solve crossword puzzles on that app Idia showed him? No, he was already feeling quite useless. Wasting time on something unimportant like that would just make him feel worse. There was something important he had been meaning to do, he thought. What was it? 

Oh right 

He needed to call his mother back. 

His brain told him to reach for his phone, but his body wouldn't. His mother was certainly on lunch break as well right now. There was no excuse not to call her.

Still, his body wouldn't budge. It took him about ten minutes to finally get his body to agree with him, very slowly pulling out his phone and opening up his mother's contact. 

Maybe she got caught up with a patient and won't pick up, Riddle tried to tell himself. It was the only thing that made him feel confident enough to hit the call button. 

The phone rang three times. Each time the hope in Riddle's chest rose only to be immediately crushed by the ringing coming to an end. 

“Riddle?”

Riddle's heart was racing, but he forced himself to speak. “Mother, I'm sorry for-” 

“I cannot believe you recently! What in the world has gotten into you?” His mother whisper yells. He knew if his mother wasn't at work this conversation would be held at a much different volume. 

“I'm sorry mother I-” 

“No, you're not sorry. If you were sorry you would have knocked off this awful behavior, but you keep pushing. Why? Do you want to see me upset? Are those kids at that awful school instilling those kinds of ideals in you, to purposely set off your loving parents?!”

“No, I-” his voice shook. He wanted to defend himself, but he had less than an hour. If he tried it would be a much longer conversation. He thought about anything he could say that would make her see his perspective but came up blank. 

There was nothing he could do. Like every single time before, he gave up and gave his mother exactly what she wanted. Oftentimes surrender is the safest option. What was even the point of fighting anymore?

“You were right. I don't know what I was thinking, but I was being foolish. Of course I'll apply for the internship at your clinic. Law school is such a stupid idea. Medicine has always been my specialty study. It wouldn't make sense. I'm so sorry for hanging up last night. It took me a moment to come to my senses. 

There was silence on the line for a moment, then Riddle heard his mother sigh. He couldn't tell if it was from relief or frustration. “While that does please me to hear, it does not excuse your behavior. Picking fights with your own mother and dropping calls when you get told no. I didn't raise you to act like that.” 

Riddle looked around the room, taking note of every random small thing. He had already stopped thinking about this conversation. All he needed to do was say his lines. It didn't even matter. 

“No you didn't. I was being selfish. I was just- I had this delusion. I won't fall for something like that again. It was completely silly.” 

“That’s for certain. I've already emailed you over the application form, but I'll send it again. I know it's quite early, but your third year will be very hectic so the sooner you get this completed the better. You can always add in new achievements to the application later. I have no doubt that you'll get accepted, but I expect you to turn it in as soon as they start accepting them anyway. It's always good to be first in line.” 

“Yes, I'll get on it mother.” 

“....... You know I worry,” 

The tone in his mothers voice made him snap out of auto pilot-mode. Her voice had lost its chastising edge and felt more genuine. 

“Sometimes I feel like you're going to come back from that school a completely different person.” 

Riddle hesitated. “... Isn't school for growing? I hope I would be a better person.” 

“Do you think better is what you're becoming?” 

Riddle curled into himself. “What do you mean?” He spoke softly. 

“Well with your recent behavior, how horrid you acted over the break, and I don't even want to talk about the …. Incident from the start of the school year, do you really think you're being the best version of yourself?”

Riddle stared at a random book that had been abandoned on the floor. He didn't know what to call the emotion he was feeling right now. “No,” his voice dropped any polite tone, sounding blank and lifeless. “I'm not.” 

She sighed again. “I knew I should have never sent you off to that school, but of course your father-” she scoffed. “If you had stayed closer I could have taken better care of you. Now look at you, it pains me to see my little boy going through such horrible things.” 

You have no idea. He wanted to voice that thought but decided against it.

“ … Do you remember when you were little and I used to take you to gymnastics?” 

Riddle knit his brows together, utterly confused by the switch. “A little. I was only around four, so I don't remember it all that well.” 

“Well, you were having such a hard time. After a few sessions, you came to me crying because you were falling behind all the other kids.” 

Riddle cringed. “... Right.” 

“We stayed up all night after that working on your stretches. You looked so tired, but you were so dedicated.” She laughed, an airy happy sound that was rare to hear from his mother. “When you showed up to the next class and did so well, you were so happy. You hurried over to me and clung to me so tight, oh it was the cutest thing.” 

Riddle stayed silent. He had no idea what to say. 

“Ah, it pains me to admit, but I've been counting down the days until you come back home. I know I can be a little firm, but I hope you know I care for you. I'm so excited to have my little Riddle back.” 

Tears quickly made their way down Riddle's face. His mother hadn't called him her little Riddle since he was very young. It felt good just as much as it hurt. 

“Oh, please excuse my sentimentality. I'm feeling a little off today. What I mean is, even if you come back not at your best, I'm here to help you. We'll get you back where you need to be.” 

Riddle tried to wait until his voice felt stable, but it still had a slight wobble to it. “Thank you, I- I'm excited to go back home. I'll be better than I was at winter break, I promise.” He didn't know if he was lying or not. 

“I'd hope so. I need to get back to work, but I'm pleased I got to speak with you. Be sure to start that application and if I call you are to answer, understood?” 

“Yes, I understand. Have a good day at work.” 

“Do well at school today. I'll call you later. Goodbye ” 

“Goodbye.” 

Riddle didn't even bother setting down his phone; he just let it clatter to the ground. Who cares if it broke? Who cares about anything? 

It seemed the more he tried to stop the tears the more they fell. He quickly became a sobbing mess, completely hunched over himself with his hands braced on the floor. 

It came back to him, the memory his mother described, but she only had it half right. 

“I'm worse than them” that's what he cried to his mother, but he wasn't talking about the content of the class. He was worse than them because he couldn't fit in.

All the other little kids partnered up so easily. They laughed and joked with each other, played together in a way that made the class fun for them. Riddle wasn't having fun. Every time he tried to imitate what the other kids were doing, he fell flat. He didn't know how to properly interact with them. He was worse than them. 

When he cried to his mother about it, he felt so hopeful when she told him they would work through this together. It was only late into that night after practicing stretches for hours, that he realized the miscommunication. 

The next class he didn't even bother. He recited the stretches and workouts alone, didn't even speak to the other kids. The instructor recognized his focus and commended him for it. “ I wish all the other kids could stay this focused.” she said. 

His mother congratulated him and gave him a hug. He remembered some speech about the pay-off of hard work. He wondered if this was enough. Did he really need the attention of all those other kids if he could make his mom so proud of him like that? 

He didn't know. 

He tried to will the memory away, to stop dwelling over it but the thoughts that replaced it went much better. 

He was so tired. 

Couldn't he just have a short break from this feeling? 

He wanted to go home. 

He wanted to see his mama. 

NO! He would not slip into that vile childish headspace again. He was going to go to his classes. There was no point in wasting any more time with this foolishness. 

He stumbled over himself, trying to quickly shove his phone back in his bag and stood up, wiping the tear tracks from his face. 

What was it that he used to do to keep this under control before he started all this nonsense with Trey? Keep himself busy. 

Exiting the room, he quickly made his way to the library and started studying. There wasn't much time left for lunch, but he just desperately needed something to do. 

The rest of his classes went smoother than this morning. He was still slightly out of it but every time his brain would drift off, he would pinch his wrist under the table to bring his mind back to focus. By his last period, he was certain his wrist was going to bruise. 

He continued once classes were over, studying in the library again, checking on the horses, cleaning up the rose garden, helping his dorm mates with school work. Anything that kept his mind preoccupied. 

After finishing up with a group of students and getting up to find something else to do, he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

He turned to the offender. “Deuce? I just helped out a few other first years with their work, but if you need assistance I still have time to help you too.”

“Ah n-no it's not like that.” Deuce stuttered nervously. “I'm all good on my work … I think” he shook his head. “I uh … I actually just wanted to check up on you.” 

“Check up on me?” Riddle tilted his head. “Now why would you need to do something like that?” 

“Oh I um … I went to get something to eat in the kitchen late at night yesterday, and- or I'm so sorry I know I shouldn't have been out past curfew, but I was just” he checked nervously. “Ah sorry I just-” 

“Can we hurry to the point?” 

“Right sorry.” He scratched his head. “Point is, I saw you passed out in the halls on the floor near Trey's room. I don't know if you guys were like … or I didn't really know what happened, but it definitely didn't look comfortable, so I wanted to check if you were okay.” 

Riddle stared at him, face blank and eyes hollow. 

“Or … sorry if that's invasive to ask.” Deuce tried not to make eye contact with Riddle. 

Riddle remained silent for a short while, then a strained smile painted his face. “Ahh, that's awfully embarrassing, you'll have to forgive me. It's such a horrible look for a housewarden to not only break curfew but to fall asleep so publicly like that. I'm incredibly sorry.”

“Oh no worries.” Deuce smiled. “As long as you're all good, I don't mind.” 

Riddle nodded. “I was just waiting outside his door for Trey and I must have been more exhausted than I thought. I'll be more mindful in the future.” 

“Alright.” Deuce’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Well, I'll see you. Ace is actually waiting for me so-” He waved as he started to walk away, he waved at Riddle. 

The house warden stayed exactly where he was until Deuce fully faded from his sight. 

Deuce saw him. 

He saw him vulnerable and scared and curled up on the filthy dorm floor. 

The first year seemed to have just enough sense not to mention the fluffy children's toy that was held tight in Riddle's arms that night, but Riddle knew , he knew he saw it. He knows which means soon Ace will know and Ace is never one to keep his mouth shut, so everyone in the school will know. 

Without willing them to, Riddle’s heeled feet stomped up to his room. He quickly snatched his school bag from under his desk and stomped all the way out to the rose garden, dorm students nervously stepping out of his path. 

As he scurried around the campus, he finally had an idea, opting to head towards the very back edge of the dorm’s property.

There was a trash can there, one that no one was supposed to know about. 

Certain rule-breakers put one out there to throw out their cigarette buds. Riddle only aloud it because he didn't want anyone flicking them into the trees and starting a fire. The people that did frequent that trash can were certain Riddle didn't know about it yet, so if he threw it away there, it was likely it wouldn't be traced back to him. 

When the trashcan was in his sights, he finally slowed down to catch his breath. Surveying the area, a small tuft of orange hair peaking out from one of the trees a little off the property caught his attention. He sighed.

“Sitting right off campus to smoke. You certainly do know how to skirt around a rule.” Riddle spoke once he stepped up to the tree. 

“Waagh!” Cater jumped and tried to hide his cigarette behind his back. “Uh oh. Am I busted?” He chuckled nervously. 

“What is there to bust you for? You're of age, and you're technically not on the dorm property. You're not breaking any rules.” 

“Whooh” he mimes wiping his brow. “You got me nervous there.” 

“Does Trey know you do this? This kind of thing will rot your teeth away.”

Cater groaned. “Are you gonna tell him?” 

“No.” Riddle snapped back. “Why would I?” 

Cater let his mask fall for a second, shooting Riddle a quizzical look before smiling again. “You wanna come sit with me? Fair warning, I'm almost out of smokes, so I'm not gonna sit and let this one go to waste.” 

“It's fine.” Riddle sat down next to him, careful not to sully his uniform. “My father used to smoke, so I don't mind the smell of it as much.” 

“Damn, you seem exhausted. You look awful.” 

Riddle sighed, laying the back of his head against the tree. “You have no idea.” He mumbled. 

“Is this cause of the fight with Trey?” Cater took a drag of his cigarette. 

“The what?” Riddle glanced at him.

“Oh come on, don't play coy too. It's super obvious when you two are having issues. You guys are not subtle like at all.” 

“Well, we're not fighting.” 

“Ugh!” Cater threw his head back. “That's exactly what Trey said.” 

“That's because we're not fighting!” He narrowed his eyes.

“Well, you're definitely not not fighting.” He took another drag. 

Riddle scoffed. “We're having a disagreement is all.” 

“ … sounds like a fight.” 

“Oh my-” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You're riling me up on purpose aren't you?” 

Cater giggled loudly, smiling wide. It calmed Riddle for some reason. 

“So” Cater started again, “what's this ‘not fight’ about then?”

Riddle rolled his eyes. “I don't think I can tell you.” 

“Awww” Cater playfully pouted. “but I like being in the know. I won't tell anyone.” 

“Don't be insufferable.” Riddle tried to fight the corners of his lips from tilting up. “It's … “ He let out a breath. “we’re having a disagreement about … the acceptable level of affection in our relationship, if I was to put it vaguely.” 

“Eh really? I always thought Trey would be like a super affectionate partner.” 

“Yes, he is.” 

Cater looked confused for a second before realization dawned. “Ooooooh … yeah I get what you mean.” 

Riddle let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding. “Oh thank goodness. Every time I talk with Trey about this I feel like I'm crazy.”

“Well, you might be. I didn't get the full story.” 

“Ha ha” Riddle mocked deadpan. 

There was quiet for a moment, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. Cater took puffs of his cigarette, purposely looking away from Riddle to blow out the smoke. 

“I thought-” Riddle stops himself, shaking his head. 

“You need ta’ hold back man. I've always wanted to have a deep conversation over a cigarette. I feel like I'm in a movie.” 

Riddle raised an eyebrow but decided to continue anyway. “I always thought that the reason I had a hard time accepting Trey’s affection was because it just wasn't how I was raised. To me, love isn't passive. It's not something that's just there, you need to work for it.”

He curled his legs closer to his body. He didn't know why he was opening up like this, especially to Cater of all people, but something about the exhaustion mixed with the nostalgic smell of his cigarette lowered Riddle's reservations. 

“My mother is so tough on me because she loves me. I believed that I couldn't fully accept Trey's love because it was nothing like that. I didn't have to work for him to love me, he just did. I always thought that if he loved me in the way I was used to, if he pushed me and challenged me, that I would be able to take it, but now he has and …” 

“You hate it?” Cater asked. 

“I hate it.” Riddle echoed. 

Cater let out a chopped breathy chuckle. Riddle's eyes flicked to his cigarette as he took another drag. 

“ … may I try it?” Riddle asked in a hushed voice. 

“Huh?” Cater tilted his head. 

“The cigarette I mean.” 

Cater dropped his jaw and stared at Riddle with wide eyes. “No way you're serious right now.” 

“Fine, forget it then.” He turned his head away from Cater. 

Cater rested his free hand on Riddle's shoulder, playfully shaking him a little. “Hey I didn't say no, but come on. You're the last person I'd ever expect to come to me trying to sneak a cigarette. I feel like I'm one of those comedically evil high schoolers in those PSAs from the nineties about peer pressure.” 

“First off, I was the one that asked you. There wasn't any pressure from your end. Secondly, as your housewarden, I'm in a position of power to you, so if anyone's partaking in peer pressure it would be me.” 

“Oh well in that case, I really hope that some big bad housewarden doesn't show up and try to peer pressure me for a puff of my cigarette. That would just be so awful.” Cater puts the back of his hand up to his forehead, mocking distress.

“I am not roleplaying with you about this. Frankly, I don't care that much.” 

“Oh my cigarette.” He shakes his head. “I hope some evil redhead doesn't take you away from me.” He wipes away non-existent tears. 

Riddle rolls his eyes and groans, just wanting this to be over. “ … Cater, you better let me borrow your cigarette or it's off with your head” he speaks flatly, with no emotion. 

“Ah! Oh my, I guess there's nothing I can do about it.” he holds out the cigarette for Riddle to take, a fake pout plastered on his face. 

When Riddle takes the cigarette, Cater finally drops the act. “Seriously though, only take a really small puff. This first time always gives you a really awful tickle in the back of your throat. It sucks.” 

Riddle nods and follows the third year's advice, taking a very small inhale. He lets the smoke out quickly, but the taste lingers in his mouth. It's not very pleasant.

For good measure, he takes one more puff, a deeper one this time. He understands what Cater meant about the tickle. The muscles in his throat twitched at the intrusion of the dry smoke. It left what felt like a film over the spit in his mouth. 

“So what did you think? Are you forever hooked and gonna smoke four packs a day now?” Cater questioned as Riddle handed it back to him. 

“It's gross. I don't get it.” 

“Yeah well, it's not really about the taste. I don't think two puffs is really enough to get the nicotine high from it, which is why most people keep at it.” 

“I've always wondered how people can keep doing that, continuing to smoke so heavily even when they know the benefits they're getting aren't really worth the risk.” 

“Yeah well, it's not really the high itself, more so the relief you get from the high. Relief is a hell of a drug, or at least the relief you get from the drug makes a hell of an addiction.” He takes another puff. “You'd really be surprised, if something gives somebody a sense of relief, they'll just keep doing it, no matter how much it keeps hurting them.” 

Riddle shakes his head, staring blankly at the grass. “That doesn't surprise me at all.” he mumbles quietly. 

They lapse into silence again, this time feeling a little less comfortable. When Cater notices Riddle spacing out a bit, he pipes up again, sounding a little less confident.

“You know, I used to not like you all that much.”

“Most people didn't.” Riddle's eyes don't leave the section of grass he was staring at. 

“Nah not like that.” Cater rubs his neck. “I mean like before you were even housewarden.” 

Riddle looked up a little, knitting his brows together. “We hardly even spoke back then. What could I have done to upset you?” 

“Eh, it wasn't really you.” he sighed, already regretting starting this topic. “It’s just that I had been working so hard to get Trey to like me. I wanted to be like a super cool friend to him, but he was a little on edge so I'd been putting in my best effort to get him to be comfortable with me.” 

He took another drag. “When our second year came, I was convinced that I did it and I was totally his best friend, but the second he recognized you walking down the aisle at the first-year ceremony, I felt like I already lost. All he did was talk about you, and worry about you, and reminisce about you. At first I was like, oh well you guys were childhood friends so of course, you guys have a lot of history, but then I learned you only knew each other for a few months and it pissed me off. Like, I've known him longer than you!” 

“On top of all that, it didn't even seem like you liked Trey. You treated him like a stranger. It made it even worse. I felt like I was losing to someone that wasn't even playing.” 

Riddle looked confused. “I'm … sorry?” He spoke hesitantly. 

Cater sighed. “I got over it really quickly. After getting a chance to know you a bit, I understood why Trey was so obsessed with you. Like, I got your appeal and I really couldn't be mad at you. Especially not for my own dumb self-conscious reasons.” 

“My appeal?” 

“Yeah you know, that classic Riddle charm.” 

“I don't think anyone has ever described me as charming.” 

“Well they'd be wrong not to.” Cater smirked. 

Riddle rolled his eyes. He couldn't tell if the other boy was trying to be sarcastic or not. “ … I'm very happy you came around.” 

“Yeah me too, and hey when I look at it this way, now that you guys are dating I'm technically back at best friend status again, so I'm back on top.” 

Riddle couldn't help it; he let out a small chuckle at that. “Hopefully we can keep it that way then.” 

“Wait!” Cater sat up. “Was your fight really that bad that you guys might break up?” 

“Still not a fight.” He narrowed his eyes. “I - I don't know. He's leaving soon for his internship anyway, and I keep messing up. I just want to do whatever I can to make him happy with me. I want that to be enough. I-I just, I'm not good at this. I'm a much worse partner than him. 

“ I'm worse than him ” Riddle spoke quietly, seemingly to himself. 

“Well that's totally stupid.” 

Riddle looked angry. “What?” 

“Trey’s an idiot. Have you seen that guy? He's a nerd that spends half the day locked in his room alone doing god knows what, he hardly ever initiates talking to anyone he isn't already comfortable with, he's got a dental hygiene obsession, a hat collection, and people pleasing tendencies so bad I used to think he didn't know the word no. The guy’s in the science club for god's sake. Do you think the science club is full of socially competent individuals?” 

“Uh … not exactly.” 

“You should have seen him today at lunch. He was so out of it and when we asked about you, he got super clammy and nervous. Then after you showed up to the dining hall and left, he got super jealous about the fact you talked to the Leech twins and not him. Then he got super embarrassed demanding he wasn't jealous about it, but it was like super obvious he was. The whole time he was acting like a flustered, hormonal middle schooler. It was super embarrassing.” 

“I can see why you'd assume we were in a fight.” 

“Exactly, he's always this way when it comes to you. He's already kinda socially inept, but when it comes to you it's like he loses all his sense, you just don't notice cause he's always trying to play it cool in front of you to impress you.” 

“He really wants to impress me that bad? 

“Duh doy, guy's been obsessed with you since he was nine. I don't think he wants to take any chances.” 

Riddle looked at the sky, watching the last bits of light from the sun dissipate into the cool purples and blues of twilight. 

“We should probably go inside soon.” Riddle spoke. 

“Yeah my cigarette is basically a but now.” Cater frowned. 

Despite their words, they stayed like that for a few more minutes, quietly watching the sky and listening to the sounds of the outdoors. 

“When you leave for your internship, will you still keep in contact with me?” Riddle asked in a hushed tone. 

“Are you kidding?” Cater spoke much louder. “I've already got a special notification tone for you, so when you message me I can immediately get back to you. You are not getting rid of me!” 

Riddle chuckled and tried to cover his smile with his hand. “Well good, you better not leave me hanging.” 

“How could I? I'm not gonna let my housewarden down.” 

Eventually, Cater finally stood up and held out his hand to assist Riddle up as well. 

Riddle watched as Cater stomped out his cigarette bud and threw it in the trashcan. As they started to walk away, Riddle kept his eyes glued to the trashcan, feeling conflicted but decided against his reason for coming here in the first place. 

“Do you wanna go get dinner? I think the dining hall is gonna close soon.” Cater asks as they reach the entrance to the dorm. 

“I'm not really all that hungry. I'll probably stay here.” 

“Alright, text me if you change your mind I can bring you something back.” 

Riddle nods. “Thank you.” 

After they part, Riddle walks back to his dorm room, locking the door behind him. He makes his way to the edge of his bed and slides down it, sitting on the floor clutching his school bag. 

He can't decide what he wants to do, so he simply sits there unmoving for about five minutes. Eventually, he reaches into his bag and pulls out Ali, setting his school bag aside. 

He stares at the stuffed animal, taking in its every quality. Its eyes are a thick, black plastic and its fur is a canvas of pure white only marked with tiny pieces of black lint from being in his bag. 

He slowly caresses its ears again before bringing it closer to his body, hugging it tightly to his chest, his cheek pressing up against its head.

It's okay. 

For the first time, he wants to slip into that headspace, to feel smaller and more vulnerable. 

In his childhood, the stresses of the world weighed just as hard on him as they do now, but he wondered if this time he could make it different, if he could find an escape from the confusing emotions he felt today, if this time he could actually feel like a kid.  

He wanted someone to come for him. Someone who could carry those feelings for him for a bit. He wanted Trey, but even if he didn't come, he supposed it would still be alright. 

After a while, he allows his hold on Ali to relax. He felt much more uncomfortable in his dorm uniform than he had a moment ago. 

Slowly, he removes the layers of his outfit, making sure to keep Ali in his grip. He starts with his crown, then his cape, then his shoes. He sets them off to the side with his bag. 

He knows he should be putting them back in their spots in the dresser, but he can't bring himself to for some reason. He really really wants to stay here. 

After removing his gloves and coat, he's left in his pants and undershirt. He brings his other hand back to clutch Ali to his chest and glances around. 

The pieces of his uniform scattered on the floor so sloppily made the room look messy. If mama was here she'd be so angry with him. He frowned and held Ali even tighter. The thought struck a horrible feeling in his chest he really didn't like.

Mama's not here though. That thought struck another horrible feeling in his chest and he couldn't tell why. Did he want mama or not? 

Right as he started to feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, he heard a soft knock at his door. 

“Uh Riddle, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to talk, but you know its- … if you don't want to … you know … ” 

It's Trey! Riddle perked up and stood up quickly, fumbling over himself a bit. He stomped to the door and almost flung it open before stopping. 

He remembered what Trey had said, about the communal areas. He slowly opened the door just a crack and looked through it. 

“Ah, you are here. I thought you might be at dinner. We don't have to talk if you don't want I just-” 

Riddle stopped paying attention to Trey when he saw the delicious looking strawberry tart Trey was holding. 

It looked so good! He hadn't eaten dinner so he could still stay in his calorie range and eat it. Sevens, he wanted it really bad. He was so hungry.

“Who's the tart for?” Riddle asked quietly, cutting off whatever Trey was saying. 

“Uh well, I made it for you, but you don't have to-”

Riddle quickly opened the door more, hiding behind it so no one could see him, and ushered Trey in. Trey smiled nervously and sat down on the love seat. As Riddle sat next to him, he sent a glance his way. Spotting the stuffed animal Riddle was holding, any confusion in his expression melted away, seemingly catching on that Riddle was in a different state. 

“Here” he handed Riddle the plate. “Ace and Deuce owed me a favor so I got them to grab me some incredibly fresh strawberries. They should be pretty good."

Riddle wanted nothing more than to dig into the slice as fast as possible, but he had to mind his manners, not wanting to offend Trey who had probably put a lot of work into making it. He adjusted so he could still have Ali pressed close to him and use both hands to eat. 

After taking a bite, he made a small squeak of joy and quickly took another bite. 

Trey smiled. “You like it?” 

Riddle nodded furiously. 

“There's still a lot left. If you want anymore just let me know. I can get you another slice.” 

He didn't like that. Of course he wanted more, but he could never ask for it. It felt wrong. He didn't know why, asking for things just felt so wrong. 

He just silently continued eating his slice, trying to savor it more now that he knew he wouldn't get another. 

Once Riddle was mostly done with his slice, Trey spoke up. “Is it alright if I ask how you're feeling?” 

Riddle took a second to reply, still chewing on his food. “M’ okay” he mumbled quietly.

“That's good, that's good” he forced a smile. 

Riddle thought about his convention with Cater. Trey did seem really nervous. Was he always like that? Maybe he was scared too. 

He wanted to say something to make him feel better, but speaking too much always felt wrong. Mama says kids are supposed to stay quiet. He didn't want to be annoying. What could he do that would make Trey happy? 

Carefully, he set down his plate and crawled closer to Trey. He lifted the other boy's arm up and tucked himself beneath it, nuzzling close to his shoulder. 

He looked up to see if the action made the other boy upset but was relieved to find a much more genuine smile plastered on his face. With that, he allowed himself to set his head back down and relax into the other's embrace. 

Trey alternated between petting his hair and gently rubbing his hand over Riddle's back. It was nice. This was how he always wanted to feel. He didn't have to worry about anything, not when someone really truly cared for him. 

The weight of the day finally fell over him. He felt so exhausted he could hardly keep his eyes open. Slowly he slipped in and out of consciousness, feeling disoriented in an oddly comfortable way. 

He felt something jostle him. He figured Trey was just readjusting from sitting so long, but the movement made him just conscious enough he could feel that something was wrong. 

He opened his eyes slowly, still incredibly tired, but his mind shot awake when he realized what it was. 

His arms were empty and Ali was gone. 

Shooting upright quickly, he let out an almost guttural sounding screech. His whole body was struck with a horrible feeling. Every inch of him felt like it was covered in this aching, anxious dread. Tears were very quick to follow. 

Trey looked completely freaked out. “S-sorry Riddle, I was just trying-” 

“No no no no no” Riddle cut him off, babbling aimlessly. 

“It's okay Riddle.” He tried to reach out to comfort him, but Riddle curled even further into himself. 

“She’s gone, she's gone, no!” 

“I was just trying to make sure you didn't drop here. Look, she's right here you can have her back.” 

Only when Trey held out his hand did Riddle realize he had been holding her the whole time. Even still, that horrible feeling in his body persisted. 

“No” his voice cracked. “She's gone, you took her away.”

“She’s right here. She's not gone.” 

“NO! it's all wrong! She's gone, no.”  Riddle worked himself up more until he was hyperventilating so much he couldn't speak. 

Riddle could make out Trey setting Ali down on the coffee table in front of him, but he seemed to keep his distance. Riddle was thankful. He could hardly think right now. 

Everything felt wrong and he was so tired. 

Chapter Text

Trey fully understood that children were not always rational and that he wouldn't always understand the rational of someone who was working under the mentality of a child. 

Still, Riddle always found a way to leave him stunned. 

Oftentimes, when Riddle would cry during his bouts of regression, it was irrational, almost seeming like Riddle was seeing something Trey wasn't, but never completely unfounded. 

Spilling food, battling nightmares, dealing with his mother, being scolded. It was all reasons that would never make Riddle cry normally but would be expected to upset a child, especially one with a troubled past. 

He was not getting what was happening this time round. Not in the slightest. 

Maybe he could understand why a kid would be upset for a cherished toy to be taken from them unexpectedly, but surely even a very young kid would calm down a little when they were immediately handed it back. At the very least, they would accept it back instead of pushing it away while crying about not having it. He seemed more upset by the fact Trey took it at all than it actually being gone. 

On top of all that, Riddle had only had the bunny for around a day, likely even less in his regressed mind. Trey felt so comfortable taking it cause he was confident that the regressed boy wouldn't really care. 

Some memories finally came to him that made him feel a little less confused. He thought about the times he would need to leave, sometimes even just to cross the room, that Riddle would get very upset. He could also recall times where he would help Riddle with his blanket and the boy would look very startled and upset before Trey placed it back on him. 

It seemed that regressed Riddle just had some very strong separation anxiety. Trey couldn't tell why that would be. He wondered if somehow the trauma he got from having to leave him and Chenya as kids was affecting him like this. It doesn't really fit with his age range, but surely it's still in his memories. 

Riddle was still sat next to him, hyperventilating and crying. The fact that he seemed to very slowly be calming down gave Trey a little solace, but that was outweighed by the anxiety he got from not being able to help Riddle in any way. 

Riddle didn't want to be touched, and he wasn't even processing anything Trey said. All Trey could do was sit and watch and hope that his presence there was comforting to Riddle in some way. 

After what felt like an excruciating twenty minutes, the hyperventilating finally seemed to die down. 

Trey made the quick decision of using magic to bring Riddle's cup of water from his bedside table to where they were sat, nervous that if he stood up Riddle would think he was leaving and freak out again. 

Trey felt a little of the tension in his body ease as Riddle accepted it. They sat in silence for another five minutes. When Riddle’s body only showed a small tremble, Trey finally felt confident to speak up. 

“Are you okay Riddle?” 

He did not respond. After a bout of uncomfortable silence. Trey spoke again.

“Riddle” he asked, slightly softer. 

Right as he was about to speak again, he finally heard Riddle say something softly, but with the way his face was held tightly against his legs it was much too muffled to make out. 

“I'm sorry I can't hear you.”

 Riddle lifted his face slightly and spoke much louder. “Don't speak to me in that tone.” he scowled. “I'm only a little over a year younger than you, you have no right to speak to me in such a way.” 

Once more, Trey felt surprised. He'd never actually seen Riddle transition out of being regressed before. Since their schedules only really allowed time to have these sessions at night, Riddle usually fell asleep regressed. It was unexpected to see him switch so fast. 

“S- sorry. I figured you were still …” 

“Still what?” Riddle spit. 

“You're just … regressed Riddle seems to feel more comfortable when I speak that way. I didn't mean to offend you. If I knew you were feeling normal I definitely wouldn't have. Sorry.” 

Riddle's eyes narrowed but he looked unmistakably hurt. “Is that how you're viewing all this?” He tried to lace venom in his voice, but each word sounded more and more sad as he went on. 

“ I- … I'm sorry I don't understand.” 

“Trey, I'm just one person. There's no ‘normal Riddle’ or ‘regressed Riddle’ , it's just me.” He frowned. 

Trey sat back and knit his brows. “I - I can't believe I'm just asking you this now, after we're so far into everything but … how does it work, like what do you feel? How do you think? I know a while back you mentioned spacing out and not truly feeling like yourself. Is that not the case?”

Riddle softly sighs and relaxes. “I'm afraid I might have accidentally misled you. I wasn't trying to lie I just … I didn't want to acknowledge certain things that were hard for me to accept. I suppose after all your effort you deserve to know.”

Riddle uncurls his body a bit and continues. “I said that I didn't feel like myself, but I didn't say I was a different person. It's like … becoming inebriated or at least what I’ve heard that to be described as.”

His hands ball into the cushion beneath him. “When I'm in that mentality, I mean everything I say. It feels no different coming from me regularly. I'm able to acknowledge that everything I'm doing isn't how I'd act on average, but it still feels natural anyway. I'm able to access the same memories and feelings I always do. It's only that my functional reasoning feels somewhat less active.” 

“When I come out of that mentality though, I feel so regretful. I feel shameful and horrified about everything I did. That's what I mean when I say I felt like a different person. I want that to have been a different person. If I can blame it on that, I don't have to think about what those actions say about me.”

“It gets a little murky. I've already told you about some of the memory issues I have and the …. disassociation as you've called it, sometimes makes it a little difficult to feel if I'm actually myself or not, but the way I behave is undeniably me. I mean, the way I reacted to the stupid bunny … its …” he sighs and lowers his head again. 

“I didn't think that was very indicative of you. Actually, it seemed very far from how I'd expect you to act.” Trey tilted his head. 

Riddle lifted his head back up, looking completely exhausted. “Right, I never told you about Ali.” 

Trey still looked lost. “I mean, we've had like one or two conversations about it. You've only had it for a day.” 

Riddle gave a small exhausted chuckle. “No, not that Ali it's …. When I was around five or so, I can't really remember all that well. It was so long ago. My mother’s job needed her to go back to full-time work so she decided to find someone to look after me.”

“She was incredibly picky about who she would let take care of me, so as the date arrived she had nobody lined up. She was about to call into work and quit just to stay with me, but our maid, who we only really keep around for monthly deep cleanings, was looking for extra work. My mother decided since she was already familiar with me and all her rules, that it was going to be the best she could get while she looked for someone more qualified.”

“Was that Ali?” Trey asked.

“Mmhm” Riddle nodded. “She was a rabbit beastman. She had her own kids, so she knew a lot about taking care of children. I know my mother was super difficult on her when she started. I'm fairly certain the only reason she stayed was because she was struggling financially. Eventually though, things settled in just fine. I was very scared. I’d never been away from my mother that much.”

“Ali was sweet though. When I’d start to cry, she would let me. She never lectured me about how kids my age shouldn't be crying. When I'd make a mistake she wouldn't yell at me. I'd never experienced that kind of affection before. It's very horribly selfish but … I used to wish she could be my mother.” 

He rushed quickly to correct himself. “Of course, I love my mother. Of course! I understand that my mother's way of showing love is just different, but it felt so good to be treated that way. I couldn't help but think selfishly.” 

“That's not selfish at all, Riddle. Any kid would feel that way.” 

Riddle hesitantly nods. “She was very sweet, but she didn't always follow all my mother's rules. She would sometimes feed me things when I had already passed my calorie limit, she let me finish studying sessions early if she saw my fingers were developing calluses. I knew it was wrong to let her break the rules like that, my mother had them set in place for a reason, but I didn't want to get her in trouble.”

“One day, she had brought over something for me. It was these little wooden shaped blocks that you could stack on each other to build things. I knew that my mother didn't allow me to play with toys like that, but I was just so excited. She realized I really liked the toys and kept bringing new ones for me to play with. She took them back to her house at the end of the day so my mother wouldn't see. I was having so much fun.” 

“She sounds great.” Trey smiled, happy Riddle got at least some kind of recreation in his childhood. 

“Yes, I always looked forward to seeing her.” Riddle's small smile quickly fell from his face. “One day my mother should have been heading off to work ,and she was supposed to come over but I realized my mother wasn't leaving. When I asked her about it, she just told me that Ali was fired, and she was going to stay home with me until we found someone better. I tried to ask why, but I was already crying, and my mother just ignored my question and told me I should know better than to cry like that.” 

Riddle wiped a hand down his face. “It's so embarrassing. I was crying about it for over a week. Anytime someone wasn't looking at me, I couldn't help but sob over it. I was so confused for a while about what she could have done, but about a month later I heard my parents arguing and my father mentioned that the reason she was fired was for bringing me those toys. He said ‘I can't believe you wasted your PTO on that when we already had childcare. All she did was bring the kid some damn toys.’” Riddle vaguely mimicked the vitriolic tone of his father. 

“Geez. That's … horrible.” Trey looked a mix of horrified and sympathetic. 

Riddle shook his head, snapping himself out of his self-pity. “Well, I think my mother really just wanted me to learn my lesson from it. She had good intentions.” 

“What could you have possibly learned from that?” His eyes narrowed in annoyance, not at Riddle but at his mother. 

“ … good things usually don't stick around long. When they go, you have to keep going and not falter on what's important. It was necessary for me to learn. I never let myself fall behind after that. Even after I was separated from you and Chenya, I never fell behind on my work even though I was devastated.” 

“Riddle that's … not healthy. You need to take time to grieve things you care about. You'll make yourself completely miserable. You're right. You shouldn't get distracted from what's important, but what's important isn't school work, it's your health, your happiness.” 

“I was right not to expect you to understand.” He frowned. “Of course you wouldn't get it, you weren't raised like that, but just because I was raised differently doesn't mean it was wrong.” He pouted. “If you don't succeed you'll be just fine, you'll be accepted either way, but I need to. I have no other choice.” His voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes. 

He takes a breath to reconstitute himself, speaking slightly softer. “Besides, you’re actually able to keep the good things in your life. I'm not afforded that luxury. When it comes down to it, the work, the success it's the only consistent thing I can keep.” 

Trey's face softened.  “That may have been true for you in the past, but I don't think it is anymore. You have so much more control over your life now that you're older. If you wanna keep something you can, no one is taking it from you.” 

“That's not true!” Riddle clutches the cushions tighter, gritting his teeth and fighting back tears. 

“Why not?"

“Because you're leaving me!” He shouted, tears finally falling from his eyes. 

Trey frowned, leaning closer to test if Riddle was okay with touch. When he didn't pull back, Trey pulled him into a weak side hug. “Riddle, I'm not leaving you. Where would you get that idea?” 

“You're going off to your internship in a few months.” He rushed out between sobs. 

“But we'll still be in touch with each other. We've talked about this. I know it's not the same as being together physically, but I'll talk to you every day, and I'll try my best to visit.” 

Riddle shook his head, attempting to compose himself enough that he could speak. “The majority of successful couples meet in internships and postsecondary education. Scaling Sands has so many people, and you'll be surrounded by students in your program that share the same passions as you. I would be completely naive not to believe that you wouldn't find someone better for you there, someone with less … issues, someone easier to deal with.” 

“Riddle-” the redhead cut him off, already having worked himself up too much to calm down. 

“You're going to leave having last seen me sobbing like a toddler and behaving like an unruly child. I know I'm not giving you what you want with this regression arrangement. I'm such a horrible-” 

When Trey noticed that Riddle's breathing was becoming concerningly quick, he used both hands to bring him tight to his chest. It was enough to get Riddle to stop talking, but the panic was certainly still present. 

“You need to breathe. You're gonna make yourself sick.” 

He didn't get a response, but he held Riddle close with his ear up to Trey’s chest. The third year made an effort to exaggerate his breathing so Riddle could follow along. Lucky Riddle caught on. 

Once the boy's breath had evened out enough, Trey spoke very softly. “Riddle, I've waited almost ten years thinking about you, wishing I could be with you. I can't believe I got so lucky as to have you back, even more so to have been given the opportunity to get so close with you. I'm not leaving you behind, not ever.” 

Riddle looked up, small tears still leaking from his eyes. “But-” 

Trey shushed him and brought one of his hands to gently caress Riddle's wet cheeks with his thumb. “There's no buts. I said what I said.” He sighed. “I actually came here today to apologize. I - I shouldn't have treated you how I did last night. Scolding you so harshly when you were already vulnerable and manhandling you like that, it absolutely wasn't okay.”

Trey moved his hand from Riddle’s cheek to stroke the boy's hair. “I wasn't upset at you. You weren't letting me down by acting like that. It's quite the opposite actually. I was nervous that if someone saw you you'd completely shut this down, and I'd never get to see you like this anymore.” 

Dull grey eyes clouded with confusion met Trey’s own. “I don't understand. Why do you even care so much about this? Surely it's exhausting for you.” 

Trey smiled. “I meant what I said at the beginning. I like taking care of you, helping you through that state. It isn't a burden to me at all. If anything, I like it too much.” 

Trey looked away from his partner, feeling guilty. “I … there have been some times with this where I was knowingly being selfish. I should have shut this down the moment you talked to me about feeling uncomfortable during it, but I just couldn't let it go. I felt almost addicted to the feeling that helping you out gave me. I'm so sorry. I won't push for my sake anymore. If you don't really feel comfortable with this, then we should stop.” 

“No” Riddle spoke firmly. “I want to keep going.” His voice strained. “I want to be cared for and looked after. I want to feel small and comfortable. I - I want to feel the way I couldn't growing up. I want it so bad.” 

Trey wiped away the small tears threatening to fall  from his partner's eyes 

“Is that wrong?” Riddle looked back up at him. 

 His vulnerable gaze sent a pang of hurt through Trey’s chest. “No, no of course not Riddle.” He held Riddle tight to his chest again, this time Riddle quickly hugged him back. “You deserve it. You should never feel bad for wanting that. I'd be so happy to take care of you.” 

“And hey” he guided Riddle's chin up. “Even when I'm gone, we can figure out how to make this work. I've done a lot of research about bed wetting and getting control over this. We're gonna figure it out, alright?”

After Riddle gave a nod, Trey guided him into a kiss. It was short and gentle. Riddle laid his head on Trey's shoulder while the other peppered quick kisses over his face. Normally, Riddle would be embarrassed by such over the top affection, but he was so exhausted and Trey's soft lips felt so nice on his skin. 

They continued on like that for a short while, content in each other's arms before Trey broke the silence. 

“There's no pressure either way. Do what makes you most comfortable, but do you think you're going to regress again tonight or are you content like this?” 

Riddle mulled over it before replying. “I don't know. I'm quite tired. When I'm half awake like this it could go either way.” 

Trey hummed. “Well, can I take care of you anyway? You know you don't have to be regressed for me to look after you like that?” 

A look of confliction crossed the redhead's face but, he quickly relaxed. “Okay, that does sound nice I suppose.” 

Trey smiled and nuzzled Riddle’s face again, getting close to his ear. “If you feel yourself slipping into that headspace again, you don't have to fight it. I've got you, I won't let you struggle.” 

Riddle's whole body shivered at the closeness. All he could muster up was a nod.

Trey pulled back a little and moved his hand to comb through Riddle's hair again. “Do you want me to run you a bath?” 

Riddle sighed. “That sounds marvelous. My body is aching terribly.” He pouted.

“Yeah, crying that hard for that long is tough on your body.” Trey fully sat up and let go of the other boy. 

“I wasn't doing it on purpose.” Riddle pouted. 

“I know.” Trey chuckled and stood up. “I'll be right back, okay? I promise I'm not leaving, I'm just getting the bath ready.” 

Trey couldn't tell Riddle instinctively wanted to fight him on his tone, but he decided against it, instead just giving a small nod.

After making his way to Riddle’s bathroom, he turned on the faucet, making sure the temperature was correct. 

When he walked back to the room to grab Riddle's sleep clothes he saw the boy was still resting where he left him, now leaning back on the loveseat with his eyes closed. 

“Try not to fall asleep yet.” 

“I know.” Riddle grumbled, but the sleepy tilt to his voice suggested he might not have. 

It only took a few minutes until the bath had finished filling. After making sure everything was set up, Trey made his way back to Riddle. 

“Alright it's all ready.” He held out his hand. 

Riddle attempted to blink the sleepiness away and uncurled his body and let Trey guide him up. 

“You're lucky I didn't just pick you up.” Trey joked. 

“I’d say that I wouldn't have minded, but my body might have assumed you were Floyd and gone into fight more.” 

Trey chuckled. “Yeah, we certainly wouldn't want that. I don't think I'd be able to take a fist to the face as well as he can.” He smirked. 

As they settled into the bathroom, Riddle began stripping. With all his accessories being long abandoned, it was much easier. Right as he was about to take off his boxers, he looked at Trey who was still fully clothed. 

“Are you not joining me?” 

Trey flushed. “Oh, did you want me to?” 

Riddle smiled, removing his last article of clothing as he spoke. “Not to sound too forthright, but when we were hugging you smelled faintly of sweat. A bath might do you good.” 

Trey brought a hand to cover his face, embarrassed. “I guess I sweat more when I'm nervous.” He chuckled anxiously. “Yeah you're right. I definitely need one.” He started removing his jacket. 

Riddle waited for Trey to finish. It was cold, but he wanted to go in together. 

When Trey had fully undressed, he guided them to step into the bath together. They sat down with Trey sitting behind Riddle. Both were very glad that the housewarden’s room had a decently sized tub. 

Unspeaking, he grabbed the soap and started cleaning Riddle. He gently lifted one of his pale thin legs and lathered it in soap. He started with Riddle’s feet, rubbing slow circles to massage while he was cleaning him. 

He progressed up to his ankles, then to his calf, making sure to take his time there after Riddle let out a comfortable sigh. Once he was done going as high up his thigh as Riddle seemed comfortable with, he guided the leg back into the water and repeated the process on his other leg. 

After that, Trey lifted one of Riddle's arms and started with this hand. He was gentle around the calluses that resided there. Sliding his way up his arm. He was a little more forceful in massaging his forearms as he knew it was common for Riddle to get aches there. 

He slides further up to his upper-arm and stops when Riddle lets out a sound as he pressed against the area where his arm met his shoulder.

“Did that hurt?” 

“S’ fine” Riddle slurred. Trey would be surprised if the boy didn't fall asleep here. 

He washes off the arm and moves onto the other. Once he finishes that, he shakes Riddle a little. 

“Are you okay with finishing the rest while I clean myself?” 

Riddle nodded, sitting up both to give Trey more room and to reach his own abdomen. 

Trey hopes Riddle isn't paying attention to him as he scrubs himself furiously. Riddle's earlier comment had absolutely mortified him. He wanted to make absolutely certain he would smell good. 

Once he was certain he was completely clean, he looked over at Riddle who had already finished and was looking half asleep. 

Trey guided him back to their previous position and Riddle quickly relaxed into it. Trey slid his hands over the whole of his back until his hands rested on his shoulders and began to massage there. 

Riddle breathed out a small groan which encouraged Trey to add a little more pressure.

The redhead certainly had not been lying about his body aching. Trey could feel the knots under his skin. He tried his best to take his time, making sure to reach all of his back and circling back to the more troublesome sections. 

“I’m glad I suggested a bath. You really need it.” 

Riddle whines softly and nods. When he cranes his neck to look back at Trey, the third year instantly recognizes the look in his eyes.

“I felt gross.” His voice is high but still exhausted. “Cater made me sit in the dirt.” 

Trey laughs. “Really? Why would he do that?” 

Riddle quickly looks forward again and mumbles. “I'm not supposed to say” 

Trey’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Was he smoking again?” 

Riddle whips to look back at him shocked. “You know about it?!” 

“Yeah, I've actually been replacing his toothpaste with one suited better for keeping smokers’ teeth healthy, and he has no idea.” 

Riddle giggled, showing him a sweet innocent smile. “That's funny.” 

“Isn't it?” He smiles back. “Now come on, let's wash your hair and we can be done.”

Riddle whines a little again and looks away from him. 

“It'll be quick, I promise.”

“ ‘kay” he mumbled. 

Trey cups his hands in the water and brings it to wet Riddle's hair. As soon as the water hits him, Riddle whines again. 

“Do you feel cold?” Riddle grumbles at the question. “I'll be fast.” 

He tried to stay true to his word, but as soon he started rubbing the shampoo into his scalp Riddle’s irritation disappeared. He pressed himself up into Trey's touch. 

Trey indulged him a little, kneading the product into his scalp probably a little longer than was necessary. 

“Keep your eyes closed for me, okay?” 

Riddle didn't respond but nodded softly. 

As Trey repeated the process of cupping his hands and rinsing his hair out, Riddle seemed a little less uncomfortable than he was before. Eventually the water started to run clear and Trey picked up Riddle's conditioner, squeezed out a decent amount, and started lathering Riddle's hair with it, conscious not to get it on his scalp, something Riddle had snapped at him for doing before. 

“Alright we’ll let that sit for a while then we can be done.” 

Riddle looked back at him again. “ Do you need me to wash your hair?”

“Ah” he lifted his hand and felt his own hair. “Maybe it's been a second since I've properly washed it.” 

Riddle adjusts himself, spinning around so he can fully face the other. 

As he reaches for the shampoo, it crosses Trey’s mind that since they were using Riddle's products, he was probably going to smell like strawberries and roses for a while. Though that's not typically the kind of scent he would go for, if he got to smell like Riddle he didn't mind all that much. 

He was expecting Riddle to be a little messy with his application. The exhaustion he was feeling mixed with his child-like mindset seemed like a recipe for carelessness. Unexpectedly, that was not the case. Riddle paid mind to take proper care of him, never rubbing in too harsh or letting the soap fall to his face. 

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. It was still Riddle after all. He was ever meticulous.  

Once he was done, they both took turns washing the product out of each other's hair. Riddle offered to let Trey use his conditioner, which he declined as it usually made his hair look awful. 

Trey got up from the tub and unplugged it as he got them both towels. 

“Do you need help getting dressed?” 

Riddle shook his head. 

“Alright, I'll be right back then.” He immediately noticed the stressed expression that crossed over Riddle's face when the words left his mouth. 

“Or you could come with me. I'm just getting my clothes from your dresser. I won't be far.” 

Riddle decided to follow him back into the room and they both got changed there. After they were dressed, Trey helped Riddle dry off his hair and brushed through it. Trey’s hair, being shorter, didn't need nearly as much attention. 

The moment they laid in bed together, he expected Riddle to be out like a light. Instead he laid still, eyes open, clearly stressing. 

“Was today a long day?” Trey asked, still sitting up, looking down at the other boy. 

“Mmhm” he nodded. “I couldn't pay attention in class. I'm scared I missed something important.” 

Trey smiled. “Well, that's what classmates are for. With how much you help your peers, I'm sure someone would be happy to share their notes with you.” 

“Really?” Riddle's eyes widened a bit. “I've never had to ask for help on my notes before.” 

“What about when you're sick?” Trey tilted his head. 

“Then I speak with the teacher.” 

“Then you could do that now.” He lifted an eyebrow.

Riddle shook his head furiously. “They saw me in class. If I ask about it, they'll know I wasn't paying attention. Then I'll get in trouble” 

Trey sighed, lying down while still looking at him. “Then I think you should ask your classmates. I promise they're not gonna think less of you. They already know how smart you are.” 

Riddle hummed “I don't know.” He mumbled softly. 

“Well, let's think about it tomorrow when you're less tired. Maybe the answer will come to you then.”

“Okay.” She shuffled closer to Trey, clearly indicating he wanted to be held. Trey understood and brought him into a hug, pulling them close together. 

Trey shut off the lights and kissed Riddle's head goodnight. 

A few minutes of silence passed before Riddle spoke. “Trey?” He whispered. 

“What is it?” He responded, his own exhaustion now evident in his voice. 

“Where's Ali?” 

“She’s still on the coffee table. Do you want me to go get her?”

“I don't know.” He sounded scared. 

Trey shuffled a bit to turn on the bedside lamp. 

“Riddle, if you want her, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with that.” 

“I don't know.” He mumbled again, even quieter, attempting to hide his face. 

Trey sighed. Riddle, I'm not your mom, or your parent, or really any kind of authority. I'm not gonna get mad at you and I won't tell anyone else. You can ask for whatever you need.” 

Riddle still didn't respond. 

“Hey look at me.” Riddle uncovered his eyes, still having the bottom half of his face hidden. “I'm right here, aren't I? Somebody took me away from you, but we're still here together. There's nothing wrong with wanting something you love back.” 

Riddle’s wide eyes stared at him, seemingly slightly less worried. 

“Do you want Ali back?” 

Riddle nodded quickly. 

“Alright, I'll go get her for you.” 

In the short time Trey was up retrieving the stuffed toy, Riddle’s eyes tracked him, never once looking away. 

Trey sat down and handed Ali to him. Just like when he originally gave her to Riddle, he simply stared at it for a moment before very hesitantly taking it. 

Once she was in his gasp, he made a strange face but inspected her. After a while, he started to slowly pet her ears, this seemed to be what got him to relax. 

“Are you ready for bed now?” 

Riddle nodded, and they shut off the lights, getting back into their original positions now with Ali resting between them. 

Chapter Text

“You know you're not supposed to be doing that Riddle.” Trey spoke up. 

Riddle pretended as if he didn't hear, continuing to chew at the collar of Trey's shirt. 

“Riddle.” He spoke a little louder. 

The regressed boy stopped for about ten seconds before continuing, acting like the slight pause would make Trey forget what was happening. 

“Alright.” Trey frowned and gently brought Riddle's face away from his shirt to look at him. “You've already used your pacifier for over an hour today. Aren't you tired of chewing?” 

The redhead paused for about two seconds then shook his head. 

Trey sighed loudly. “Using that for too long is horrible for your teeth. You're just gonna have to wait till next time.” 

Riddle pouted “Treyyy” he whiled 

“How about we find something for you to distract yourself with?” 

Riddle brought his hands to rest on the third year's shoulder. He purposefully tried to play up his cuteness by leaning closer to him and exaggerating his pout. “Trey” he whined quieter this time. 

Trey grimaced. Riddle was too smart for his own good. Even in his almost toddler-esque regressed state, he knew playing up his cuteness would chisel away the older boys' resolve.

He let out a breath. “I'll give you thirty more minutes, but that's it.” 

A small smile painted Riddle's face as he happily nuzzled where Trey’s neck and shoulder met, almost as a way of saying thank you. 

Trey reached over to the bedside dresser where he'd been keeping the item and carefully wiped it off before offering it back to Riddle, who immediately took it into his mouth and moved back to rest his head on Trey's shoulder. 

Oddly enough, the pacifier was one of the first things Riddle had ever bought for himself to use during these moments. It was a far leap from not wanting to do this at all and finding it embarrassing to going on a search for an adult-size pacifier for himself. 

Riddle claimed it was just because he was tired of the indents he was getting from chewing on his fingers, but the quickness he took to it during his regression told another story. 

Unfortunately, this was one of the only things Trey was not so keen on. When going through various forms to find advice on age regression, he saw people discussing the ways long-term pacifier use could shift the user's teeth. He made the compromise to allow him to use it, but only in limited timeframes. 

Riddle had a way of getting what he wanted though. Usually when he regressed, he was in an older headspace and still carried a lot of anxieties about breaking the rules and upsetting Trey. It was much less than before but still fairly prominent. When he was in that much younger space though, he could be something of a menace. 

Even though he knew what she did was absolutely never justified, he wondered if this was why Mrs. Rosehearts decided to be so strict on him. Riddle's temper, wits, and stubbornness was certainly a recipe for disaster when mixed with his childish state. 

Maybe not though. He couldn't even imagine Riddle ever causing trouble for his parents. In fact, that was one of the things that made Riddle much more comfortable with this arrangement. 

After their big talk, they realized that a major reason Riddle felt so anxious when regressed was because he was viewing Trey as an authority figure, somebody who enforced the rules, who would punish him if he made a mistake. 

When they established that no, Trey had no real authority over Riddle in that state and all he could do was guide him as opposed to ordering him around, some of the anxiety he was feeling was relaxed. 

In many of the forms he had read, Trey saw people discuss what role they were playing in this dynamic, usually acting as a parent or sibling, but Trey didn't like that for himself. He wasn't Riddle's parent, especially with all the baggage that carried for them, he really didn't want to be. He wasn't a sibling either.

No matter what, he was still Riddle's partner. Someone that was on an equal level to him. Someone that just wanted to love him and take care of him. He felt no need to add on any extra convoluted dynamics to something that was already working for them. 

He checked the clock. “Thirty minutes Riddle.” He guided Riddle to face him again. 

Riddle cringed as Trey took the pacifier from his mouth but didn't fight it. He looked a little angry, but it slowly morphed more into looking like he might cry. 

“Nu-uh come on, we'll get you something fun to do.” He stood up, picking up Riddle as he did so, and walked him to the coffee table to set him on the floor in front of it. He handed Riddle a coloring sheet and helped him with getting started on it. 

When Riddle became more open to engaging in usual kids activities, they quickly learned he really didn't like playing with coloring books. It was the same thing with watching cartoons and playing with toys.

 Trey figured that it was just because he had no real reference for those things since he wasn't allowed to do them as a kid. Either he never did them at all or tried to and got into a lot of trouble. Oddly enough, there were other things he was banned from as a child that he liked to engage in while regressing, so who knows, maybe it really was just preference. 

With Riddle's aversion to coloring books, Trey worked to find similar things he would like so that he didn't have to be stuck only playing crossword puzzles all day. They found out that Riddle really likes to play with those worksheets where you have to solve a problem to figure out the number to color specific sections of the page, so Trey had printed out a good number of those for him.

To his pleasure, Riddle quickly forgot about his pacifier and fully focused himself on the worksheet. His face looked blank, but Trey could tell he was enjoying himself. 

He colored in each section neatly, never straying outside the lines or leaving any gaps. He never really struggled to find the answers. Trey believes the reason Riddle liked these worksheets so much was because the coloring aspect of them forced him to take time in-between the questions. If that weren't the case, he would likely breeze through them quickly. 

Riddle suddenly stops when coloring in one of the sections. His whole body went still. 

“You okay?” Trey asked. 

Riddle nodded. “I wanna watch the window.” 

Despite the strange phrasing, Trey knew what he meant. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Riddle stood and quickly made his way to the window, pulling back the red curtains a little more to get a better look. 

“Trey! It's raining.” He smiled, turning back to face the other as he made his way to the window as well. 

“Is it?” He smiled and sat down next to him. “Looks like it might storm.” 

“I wish I could go play in the rain.” He frowned and rested his arms and chin on the window still. 

“I know. It sucks being stuck in here.” He lifted his hand to rub Riddle's back. 

Riddle in turn hid the lower half of his face further behind his arms. 

Trey kept his gaze on the sky watching as the clouds shifted to a darker shade. When the wind picked up, the rain fell at a sharper angle, pouring down relentlessly. 

He heard a small muffled giggle from his partner and shifted his gaze down to him. His partner responded by pointing down to the ground where a group of around four students were running quickly with their jackets held up above them very unsuccessfully trying to block the rain as their hair and clothes were soaked, thoroughly dripping, trying to get to the dorms entrance. 

Trey smirks. “You laugh, but I can tell they're not gonna be the ones cleaning up the puddles of water they trail into the dorm.” 

Riddle mumbled quietly. “No, they will.” 

Trey chucked and shook his head.

Time passed and Riddle seemed content just as he was. Trey had eventually grown bored and started scrolling through his phone trying to pass the time. 

This was something that became common when Riddle was regressed. The boy had an impeccable attention span. He could stare out the window for hours and never get bored. Trey didn't like what that implied about his childhood, but as long as Riddle didn't seem distressed by it, it seemed okay. 

Around twenty minutes passed and Trey noticed soft rolling thunder coming in, although there was no lightning to accompany it. After ten more minutes, its volume increased. Five more minutes, and it was clear the storm was getting closer. 

Trey noticed Riddle lightly flinching at each bout of thunder, but he didn't make any effort to move. It was only when a particularly loud clap of thunder sounded out that Riddle tried to quickly cover his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly with it. 

“Riddle, come on. We should get away from the window.” Trey tried to gently guide his arm back to step back towards the bed. 

Despite his fear and the slight tremble in his body he was clearly attempting to hide, it didn't seem like he wanted to move, but he didn't fight against Trey’s grip on him. 

Trey checked the time. Maybe if Riddle was already getting distressed by the storm it would be smart to call quits on this before it gets more intense. 

“Do you think you'd be okay trying to feel big again? It's about time for dinner.” 

Riddle frowned and shook his head. 

One of the methods they agreed to start using to give Riddle more control over his regression was attempting to get him to purposefully transition out of that headspace back to his non-regressed self. 

Originally, Riddle wanted this to be something that happened every time he regressed and told Trey to keep pushing for it even if he didn't want to, but Trey immediately shut that down, bringing up that taking away Riddle's control in the matter would likely have the opposite effect he wanted, as well as being detrimental to the whole ‘Trey not being an authority figure kind of thing’. 

Instead, they chose to let Riddle decide in the moment. They had developed a method to slowly transition him back to his usual self. Trey would ease off using his soft gentle tone and instead switch to the tone he usually uses with him. Then they'd take him to a section of the room he didn't use much while regressed and give him items like his scepter or a task like doing dorm paperwork that had no connection to his regressed state. 

Most of the time it worked. Sometimes it didn't. Sometimes, on days like these, Riddle was much too overwhelmed with the real world and didn't want to try at all, and that was okay. 

“Alright, we do still have to eat though. I'm gonna go to the kitchen and quickly make us something to eat, okay?” 

Riddles frowned harder, his eyebrows scrunched together. 

The separation anxiety was also something they were working on, to much less success. 

“It's only for a little bit.” Trey helped Riddle up to sit on the bed and took Ali, who was sitting tucked partly under the sheet and handed her to the redhead. 

“And I'll be sure to bring a little extra dessert for you for being so brave.” 

Riddle seemed to consider it. Trey bent down to kiss his head before walking to the door. 

“I'll be quick.” He promises. 

Riddle didn't look like he would cry or get upset, but there was notable apprehension in his features, like he didn't trust Trey was telling the truth. 

Before Trey made his way to the kitchen, he stopped by the dorm's entrance. Of course, the students that rushed in didn't make any effort to clean up after themselves. Trey cast a few spells to clean the area. He didn't want the first thing Riddle did after coming back to himself to be yelling at the thoughtless students.

In the kitchen he decided on making sandwiches. A regular one for himself and one with lettuce in place of bread for Riddle, as no matter what age range he was in, he was always very conscious of his carb intake, something that made Trey feel a little sick if he thought about it for too long. 

To make up for it, he gave him a decently large sized slice of tart for his dessert, something he knew Riddle couldn't refuse. 

Opening the door to his room, Trey found Riddle exactly where he was a handful of minutes ago, sitting by the window with his chin resting atop his crossed arms except this time Ali was propped up next to him, watching alongside him. 

“Let's eat at the table.” Trey called out. He heard Riddle quickly scurrying over to him, clearly having missed him. 

They ate in silence, but it didn't feel uncomfortable in any way. Trey let himself smile as he watched Riddle quickly devour the Tart, hardly taking any time to savor it. 

After they finished, Trey took the plates down to the kitchen while Riddle changed into pajamas. Of course, only after a pep talk to make sure Riddle didn't panic as he left. 

Once he got back, Trey set up crosswords for Riddle to play with as he got changed himself. Right as he was finishing up, a sudden loud clap of thunder, louder than any one before it, sounded out. Riddle jumped so hard his knee slammed into the table, and he let out a yelp. 

Trey quickly moved over to him, checking over his knee to make sure it wasn't injured. Riddle trembled, holding the fringes of his hair tight. 

Riddle had once told him that he had always somewhat enjoyed storms, so Trey was a little confused as to where this was coming from, but one look at Riddle's face made it clear. He wasn't scared of the thunder. He was afraid of what the loud noises were reminding him of. 

“Hey, the storm probably won't let up for a while, so how about we go to bed early tonight?” He rubbed reassuring circles over the boy's shoulders. Riddle nodded slowly. 

Another measure they put in place was that Trey would usually try and get Riddle out of his headspace before going to bed. As Riddle got more comfortable being regressed, the bed-wetting seemed to get worse. It was just a small measure to try and reduce that, but with how scared and out of it Riddle was feeling tonight, he knew better than to try. 

For nights like these, Trey had bought some specialized pads for bed-wetting, or at least that's what he told Riddle, because he knew saying he bought ‘puppy pads’ for him would end in an uproar. Trey carefully set one on Riddle's side of the bed and covered it with a sheet he didn't mind getting ruined. 

“Alright, come on Riddle.” 

Riddle perked up and grabbed Ali, climbing up on the bed. 

Trey noticed he was still trembling so he shut off the lights and brought Riddle close to him, holding him as tightly as he could. 

As the storm raged on outside Riddle squirmed, but Trey kept reassuring him. He mumbled small “it's okay”s and “you're safe”s. It didn't fix all of Riddle's fear, but he didn't expect it to. He knew there were things he just couldn't fix, things far beyond his ability, but he took great solace in just being there for his partner. 

Having an extra body around to sit in your struggle with you is far better than being alone after all.