little!den who isn't always so perfectly soft and sweet.
heightened emotions that feel too big for his body, stressing him out, making him oversensitive and constantly on the verge of tears that's he's already embarrassed of. he hates being a crybaby, hates that it's all he's ever been. growing up and trying his best to hide his wet eyes, his hiccups and sniffles, learning to cry quiet— because if he didn't, his sadness was met only with ridicule. stop overreacting. stop manipulating your mother. stop being so loud.
so to try and stop it, to try and reel it in, he snaps. petulant, pouty. robby will touch him and he'll flinch away, snarl out a don't touch me. sometimes robby will try to talk and dennis will tell him to shut up. he's mouthy and he's difficult, and that makes him so devastated all over again, because all he's ever wanted was to be easy.
he hides in robby's closet to fix it. if he's the problem, he'll just remove himself from the situation. curl up in a pile of robby's clothes, rocking and whimpering, trying desperately to make himself feel big again. to be in control again. to stop wanting his papa so badly, to stop wanting softness so badly, to stop wanting to cry.
and that's how robby finds him, curled up and shuddering quieted cries, red-faced and broken. robby's heart hurts. he's quick to gather up his boy, ignoring the protests, ignoring the fists that beat at his shoulders and chest, only focused on keeping dennis folded into him until he calms, relaxes into the comfort robby has been trying so hard to offer. murmuring shh, shh, stop, baby, stop. you're okay. you're alright, it's papa. papa's here, baby, okay? you're okay. shh, shh, shh...
dennis is breaking, babbling all the awful thoughts that he's so careful to keep inside. begging for reassurance through whines and hiccups, sounding like a wounded puppy. apologizing over and over, saying m'sorry, m'sorry, m'so sorry, papa, please, please don' leave... please, m'so sorry for being bad! I didn' mean to! I swear I didn' mean t'be bad... m'no good... I jus' wanna be easy... m'such a bad kid.. m'sorry! m'so sorry...
robby blinks back his own tears at the sound of it, cuddles dennis closer, rocking him gently. as den's babbling fades robby carefully slips a thumb in his mouth, letting dennis take to it, suckle softly, shoulders relaxing now that he has something to help him regulate. slumping into robby, all weak and lax— so, so tired.
oh, my poor boy. shhh, don't say that, sweetheart, please don't. you're not a bad kid. not ever. no matter what happens, you are my good, sweet, kind little boy, and papa loves you so very much. yeah? papa loves you. always my good boy. always my good kid. it's okay now, it's okay... shh, shh, shh...