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Gerri awoke to knocking at her door just minutes before midnight. It was brief and soft, and had she not been such a light sleeper she probably wouldn’t have noticed it. With a sigh, she turned over in her bed with full intent to ignore it. Few people would show up at someone’s door this time of night, and whether it was a serial killer or a nocturnal Jehovah’s Witness, Gerri wasn’t getting out of bed for them.
Just as she began drifting back off to sleep, Gerri’s heard a buzz. Her phone’s screen glowed from its place on the nightstand. She reached over to flip it screen-side down, but not before catching a glimpse of the notification.
It was a text from Roman; “Let me in you asshole.”
Gerri groaned. The rain was pounding against her roof, and the thought of leaving Roman out there tugged at her heartstrings. The maternal urges disgusted her, but she couldn’t bring herself to ignore them. She pulled herself out of bed and slipped into her fluffy robe before making her way down the stairs.
Gerri glanced out the window before approaching the door, just to ensure that it really was Roman—and there he stood, soaked in rain and hugging himself. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. “What the fuck, Roman?”
But when Roman looked at her, there was an expression in his eyes that made her heart drop.
During their brief relationship, she’d seen a side of Roman that nobody else (to her knowledge) was aware of. It was a childish, vulnerable side that clung to Gerri and was no different than… well, a child.
She’d never been sure of what to call it—and she certainly couldn’t ask Roman, because whenever he left that headspace he’d pretend he had no idea what Gerri was even talking about. Roman was a terrible liar, but pushing him to talk about this phenomena would be fruitless no matter how hard she pushed, so she eventually stopped trying.
But regardless of what it was, Roman was clearly in that headspace right now—and it was all the more apparent with the way he hugged himself and rocked on his feet.
“I’m… cold.” Roman said. The way his voice cracked evoked memories of the funeral. Gerri averted her gaze.
“I’m not surprised,” Gerri tutted. She had so many questions, but right now, taking care of Roman was what mattered most. “Get in here before you freeze to death.”
Roman brushed past Gerri as he hurried into the entry room. He sat down on the floor despite there being no shortage of chairs and couches in her living room—one of his strange quirks that Gerri would never understand,
“Wait here,” Gerri said. She turned on the fireplace to provide a little extra warmth for Roman.
Gerri hurried to her room to fetch some dry clothes. She knew he’d turn his nose up at anything too feminine, but fortunately, she had an old tee shirt and plaid pajama pants that would suffice. They’d be a little large on him, but the boy would simply have to cope.
When she returned to the living room, she saw Roman curled up by the crackling fireplace with what looked like a piece of cloth in his arms. From what she could tell, it looked like an old washcloth she’d disposed of earlier that day. Roman flinched upon noticing her there and attempted to stuff the object in his pocket.
Gerri knelt down to his level. “Roman, what do you have?” she asked gently. “You’ve been digging in my garbage, haven’t you? Hand it over.”
Roman’s eyes widened and he tightened his grip on the object. “Mine!” he growled, scooting away from Gerri’s reach.
Gerri sighed wearily. “You need to get rid of that, Roman. Why are you hoarding garbage?”
“Fuck you!” Roman snapped.
“Roman!” As Gerri rose to her feet, Roman instinctively flinched. He scampered away and crawled behind the couch. In his hurry to escape, the object fell from his clasp and landed on the carpet.
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Gerri knelt back down and picked up the cloth—only to realize it wasn’t a disposed dishrag like she’d initially thought. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was an old, battered stuffed animal. The fabric was a grayish-brown color, and it was covered in holes and poorly-stitched seams. It also lacked a head, making it unclear what animal it had once been. Stuffing spilled out from the neck; the stitching had come loose. Gerri warily pushed the cotton back in with an index finger.
Many times she’d cared for Roman when he was little, but she’d never seen this… thing before. Roman peered at her from behind the couch with tears in his eyes.
She took a deep breath. “Roman,” she began, her tone much softer than before. “I’m not mad at you. And I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions; I wasn’t aware that this was your… thing.”
Roman let out a pitiful whimper. Gerri smiled sadly.
“Let’s get you dressed, and then we’ll talk,” she said.
“Give puppy back…” Roman sniffled.
So it was a dog, then. Gerri set the plush toy back on the floor. “Come out from behind the couch and get him. And put on some dry clothes while you’re at it—” She gestured to the pants and tee shirt laying near the fireplace. “I’m not letting you get hypothermia.”
Roman rubbed his face with his wet sleeve. “Promise you won’t hurt my puppy…?”
Someone else clearly had; it looked like the puppy had been through hell and back. She decided not to remark upon that, though, and merely nodded. “I won’t hurt him, little pup. I just want to take care of you right now.”
The affectionate nickname seemed to comfort Roman. Upon hearing it, he finally crawled out from behind the couch. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“You won’t hurt me, either…?” Roman asked.
Gerri shook her head. “Have I ever hit you before?” she asked.
Roman paused for a moment. “Don’t think so…” he mumbled.
“Then I don’t see why that would change tonight,” Gerri said. “Now come and get dressed. I got you some nice warm jammies, okay?”
Sniffling, Roman crawled over to the folded clothes laying beside Gerri. He picked them up and shakily rose to his feet. Before Gerri could process what was going on, Roman was unbuckling his pants.
Their relationship was unconventional at best, but the thought of watching Roman get undressed while in this mental state felt… odd in a way that Gerri wasn’t comfortable with. She quickly turned around before she could see anything below the belt. “Let me know when you’re decent, little pup,” she said.
A few moments later, Roman spoke up. “All dressed.”
Gerri turned around and couldn’t help but laugh—he’d put the tee shirt on backwards. She approached him and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. “You put the shirt on the wrong way, sweetie,” she said. “Let me fix that for you.”
"Oh..." Roman slipped his arms into the shirt and allowed Gerri to turn it around. Once it was facing the right direction, he pushed his arms back out through the sleeves.
“Clothes are too big,” Roman huffed.
“Yes, well, you are a very tiny man and I’m a woman in my sixties, so I’d be surprised if we wore the same size clothing,” she remarked with a chuckle.
Upon looking closely, Gerri could see the beginnings of a smile on Roman’s face. She was surprised he didn’t make a crude remark or call her an old hag; but in retrospect, Roman’s cruel behavior was always toned down whenever he was in this mental space.
He sat back down on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. The stuffed animal was tucked between his thighs and his torso, now entirely out of Gerri’s sight or reach.
Gerri picked up the wet clothes and brought them to the laundry room. She tossed them in the dryer and hurried back to the living room, relieved to see that Roman hadn’t moved from his spot. Leaving him alone when he was regressing was a risky game.
She grabbed a pillow and sat down on the floor beside Roman. “Now, what brings you to my house this time of night?” she began. “I was trying to get some sleep, so it better be a good reason.”
Roman stared straight ahead and stuck his thumb in his mouth. “Had nightmare. Got scared. Everything’s bad.”
Gerri gave an understanding nod. She placed a hand on Roman’s head and gently stroked his hair. His eyes fell shut.
“Alright. That's understandable,” Gerri said. Nightmares were a common precursor to Roman’s regression; he refused to talk about them, but judging by the way he’d act during moments like this, she suspected they often centered around Logan.
“Well, it’s a good thing you came to me,” Gerri continued. “How about we get you to bed, little pup? It’s very late, and a poor night’s sleep will only make you feel worse.”
“Scared to sleep…” Roman whined.
“I understand. But you can sleep in my bed,” Gerri said. “I’ll make sure to keep you safe if you get scared.”
That alone was enough to calm Roman down a little bit. He wiped tears from his face and looked up at Gerri with big brown eyes. “And…” he continued, looking at the battered stuffed dog in his arms. “Ruffy sleep with us, too?”
Gerri nodded. “Normally I wouldn't allow dogs in bed, but I suppose I’ll make an exception tonight," she said as she rose to her feet.
Roman giggled at that. He reached a hand out toward Gerri. “Up?”
Gerri held back a groan. Helping Roman up wasn’t her favorite part of caring for him, considering he was the one with younger and stronger bones; but for his sake, she’d do it. She pulled him to his feet with only a little bit of struggle. When she tried to let go of his hand, Roman held on tighter.
Gerri would never admit it aloud, but she loved this side of Roman; she loved the genuinity of it all, and she loved the affection, even if it was sometimes a bit excessive. And as much work as it could be taking care of him, she was always happy to help Roman feel safe and loved whenever he needed it.
With a warm smile, she rubbed Roman’s knuckles with her thumb. “Let’s get to bed, little pup.”
Once Gerri led Roman up to her room, the latter flopped onto the bed. Then, he rolled over to make room for Gerri.
When Gerri climbed in, she gently tucked Roman under the comforters. With a sleepy smile, she kissed him on the forehead. “Do you feel a little better now, little pup?”
Roman nodded. “Still scared, though….”
Gerri laid down against the pillows and scooted a little closer. “Well, mama’s here to keep you safe,” she whispered, pulling Roman a bit closer to herself. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and let his eyes fall shut. “And you have your Ruffy, too, don’t you? He’s a big strong pup like you who will keep you safe. You have nothing to fear, my sweet little angel.”
“Okay…” Roman didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he didn't protest it either. Instead, he draped an arm around Gerri’s waist and pulled her into a hug.
How Gerri wished she could see this side of Roman more often. Honestly, it didn’t even need to be the babylike side, as much as she loved it—just a side of Roman that was genuine. Allowed himself to love and accept love just as easily.
But most likely, Roman would wake up tomorrow as his usual self. He’d deny anything ever happened, and he would leave without even saying goodbye.
Gerri's heart ached. This wasn’t going to last very long, so she wanted to stay up and enjoy Roman’s affection while she still could. But he’d already begun to doze off, judging by the way his breath had slowed. So Gerri shut her eyes and followed suit.
Gerri had expected to wake up to an empty bed; Roman was always early to rise, and every time he regressed during the night, he’d leave the moment he was back in his normal headspace. So when she awoke to Roman sitting upright in her bed with his stuffed animal clutched against his chest, it was somewhat of a pleasant surprise.
She rubbed her eyes and propped herself up against the pillows, reaching for her glasses. Was Roman still regressed? He was snuggling that mangled stuffed animal like his life depended on it, and he wasn’t looking Gerri in the eye, so it seemed likely. But his expression hardened as soon as they made eye contact.
“The fuck are you looking at?” Roman grumbled.
Well, that answered that question. “An odd question to be asking when you’re in my bed,” Gerri said. “I’m surprised you still are, by the way. Normally you take off like you’re escaping a crime scene when this happens.”
“Yeah, well, nothing happened.” Roman huffed and averted his gaze. His special way of saying “I don’t want to talk about it,” Gerri had come to realize.
So she simply nodded, deciding not to press the issue any further. “In any case,” she began, climbing out of bed. “I’m going to clean up and start some breakfast. You are free to join me or go home; whichever suits you best.”
Roman didn’t respond. Gerri decided to leave him be as she got ready for the morning. She grabbed some clothes from her wardrobe and headed to the bathroom. Once she was dressed, had brushed her teeth, and combed her hair, she made her way down to the kitchen.
Gerri grabbed some premade pastry dough and butter from the refrigerator as well as some cinnamon sugar from the cupboards. It had been a while since she’d enjoyed some cinnamon rolls. They also happened to be one of Roman’s favorite sweets, though the chances of him actually staying for breakfast were slim.
She’d just begun whisking the cream cheese frosting when Roman peered into the kitchen. When she threw a brief glance his way, she noticed that he was holding the stuffed dog in his arms, not even attempting to conceal it. “You’ve decided to join me?” Gerri asked. She turned her attention back to the frosting and continued whisking.
Roman shrugged. “Not like I have anything better to do,” he said, sitting down at the bar stool near the kitchen table. He rested his chin in his hand and sighed.
“I can fix him for you, if you’d like,” Gerri continued, gesturing to the stuffed dog sitting on Roman’s lap. “He seems like he’s been through hell.”
“Don’t humanize the fucking toy when I’m not in that freakish mode.” Roman rolled his eyes. “But if you had to give the thing a gender, it would be a she, not a he.”
Gerri chuckled. “Fine, fine. I’ll rephrase my question, then—would you like me to fix the little bitch for you?” she teased. ”Give it a new head, maybe bleach out some of those old stains?” She scooped up a spoon of cream cheese frosting and gave it a taste; not sweet enough. She added another dash of powdered sugar.
“Nah. It’s fine. It’s been like this for decades,” Roman said. “It lost its head in like, the 90s when dad found out I still had it. Had to go dumpster diving for it, and I ended up only finding the body. The head was a lost cause.” He trailed off for a moment before he continued. “I… I honestly don’t even remember what its head looked like. It’s just headless Ruffy to me, now. It doesn’t fucking matter.”
“Well, it seems like it matters to you quite a bit, considering you dug it out of the garbage and held onto it for decades,” Gerri said. She grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer and scraped some cream cheese frosting from the bowl. “Taste this for me.”
Roman tensed, eyeing the frosting as if it were going to jump out and bite hime. After a moment’s hesitation, he took the spoon from Gerri’s hand and gave it a lick. “Frosting is fine.” He turned away from Gerri’s gaze and handed the spoon back to her.
“Just fine?” Gerri raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, fine, it’s amazing and I want to slather my dick with it. What do you want me to say?”
“I mean, I didn’t want you to phrase it like that, but I’ll take it,” Gerri scoffed.
The timer on the stove went off. Gerri slipped on her oven mitts to pull out the cinnamon rolls. They’d risen wonderfully, and the smells of butter and cinnamon filled the kitchen as soon as she opened the oven door.
Roman eyed the cinnamon rolls as Gerri placed the baking dish on a cooling rack. Maybe he would finally eat breakfast for once.
They’d have to wait a while before they could be frosted, but the last thing she wanted was for Roman to change his mind, so she grabbed the whisk from the frosting bowl. “Here, have this while the cinnamon rolls cool down,” she said. She handed it to Roman and sat down on the stool beside him.
Roman didn’t hesitate this time when he grabbed the whisk. As he licked the frosting, he held Ruffy close to his chest with his free hand.
“I know you don’t want to talk about last night,” Gerri began. “But—”
“I don’t, because there’s nothing to talk about,” Roman grumbled.
Gerri rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said. “But even if something did happen last night… I want you to know that it would be okay. And know that your secret is safe with me. I have not told anyone about this, and I have no intent to.”
All of that was true; but in a selfish way, she also wanted to keep seeing Roman like this. She loved Roman, every side of him, even the ones that often made her skin crawl, but this side—the genuine, vulnerable side that he seldom showed—held a special place in her heart. She wanted to hold onto it. Encourage it, even.
“I know,” Roman replied bluntly. He set the whisk on the kitchen table once he'd licked off all of the frosting. Then, he leaned his head against Gerri’s shoulder.
Gerri put her arm around him and rubbed his back, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Roman let his eyes fall shut.
“Can I…” Roman began, his voice just a hair above a whisper. “Can I help you frost the cinnamon rolls when they’re cool?”
Gerri couldn’t help but smile. “Of course you can, little pup. And Ruffy can help, too."