Hearing the scattering of feet that rushed under his beloved car, Stronghorn, Texas stopped in his tracks and gazed at the car. What could this be? An intruder from Kane trying to thwart Texas and steal him to use him against his own members? NOT TODAY KANE! Raising his hands up and getting ready for an attack, he quickly ducks down and looks under the car.
“OOAH!” Screaming at the enemy was the best tactic there was! And he did just that. That was, until he saw a flash of fur and bright green eyes shine back at him. This wasn't one of Kanes robots, it’s Chuckster. His now furry little friend. Even though Chuck has only returned home for about a week, Texas still has to get used to the appearance of his friend. His face quickly softening to a smile, Texas looked over at Chuck, whom looked surprisingly smaller than usual. How weird, maybe Texas was getting so big and powerful he made others around him smaller. How lucky his friends are friends with him.
“Hey there fuzzbutt, didn’t mean to scare you with my awesome attacks. Don’t be creeping around or I might attack you one of these days.”
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My character has accidentally taken a potion turning them into a child, with no recollection of adulthood. Send ☃ for them bumping into your character while in this state.
He’d heard footsteps so the only logical thing to do was to dive under one of the nearest big machines and back himself up against one of the wheels. Eyes glow brightly in the shadow of the vehicle and Chuck cannot help but let out a loud hiss when legs appear next to the car.
My character has accidentally taken a potion turning them into a child, with no recollection of adulthood. Send ☃ for them bumping into your character while in this state.
Nothing here smelt right. It didn’t smell right nor did it smell familiar. Sniffling, furiously rubbing his face to try and stop the tears that left his eyes, Chuck wanders a bit aimlessly. Where was this place? Why was he here? No… No, he didn’t want to be here!
He wanted to go home!
Distraught and not paying attention, it’s really no surprise that the little bat ends up bumping into someone’s leg upon turning the corner, toppling over with a squeak. If the waterworks hadn’t started before, they definitely did now. Holding his stinging nose, the little bat simply begins to sob.
My character has accidentally taken a potion turning them into a child, with no recollection of adulthood. Send ☃ for them bumping into your character while in this state.
It smelled weird here, it hurt his nose. The blond huffs unhappily and rubs his face for a moment or two, letting out a quiet whine. It’s the sound of footsteps that make him jump, the appearance of someone that makes him hiss before darting under the closest car. Luckily none of them had been turned on in a while.
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Warnings: Chuck really needs that Hug. Newt could stand to give him one.
Summary from Ao3
Things seem to be a little better after lunch.
- Would Charles Hansen please report to LOCCENT. Your Father is waiting- Comes the announcement.
And then everything comes crashing down.
——————————
Newton was quickly reminded why he hadn't holed himself up in his room instead of wandering the empty lab to begin with.
His room smelled terrible. It was all dusty concrete, fresh welding, and pungent metal. Which while the smells were not that bad when in the wide open areas of the Shatterdome. They came together into a toxic sneeze-storm in the cramped quarters he'd been given. Both of them wrinkled their noses and shoved the door as wide open as it would physically go.
Not that he was going to close the door in the first place. He was not going to lock someone's kid in his room. Nu-uh, nope. He might do stupid, impulsive shit on a daily bases but that is just asking for trouble.
“It's empty.” Chuck said as he wandered around what little leg room was available. Seemingly content to snoop through what Newton had bothered to unpack before the noxious fumes ran him out. “And really tiny.”
“Don't I know it.” Newt grabbed his travel-case from where he had thrown it on the bed. Or what the PPDC was counting as a bed. It was more like an oversized hot-pocket wrapper stuffed with steel wool. He was honestly debating making a blanket nest in the corner. The concrete felt more forgiving then the bed.
That was a thought for another time though. He flipped open his suitcase and pulled out his personal laptop, leaving his work-book and tablet alone and still wrapped up in the various print shirts and sweaters he'd brought.
Chuck wasn't even subtle as he rushed over and started trying to dig through the other items. Pulling at folded shirts and small nik-nak's Newt didn't have the heart to leave behind.
Newton watched him for a second, incredulous. Before doing what his Uncle Gunter always used to do to him when he got too excited and touchy. Putting his pointer finger on the boy's forehead and taking advantage of Chuck's surprise to gently push him and his prying little fingers out of the suitcase. “That's kind of rude, little man.” he says, trying to sound stern.
It's never been one his strong points, sadly.
Chuck's doesn't move away from the touch, but his eye's narrow. Like he's debating getting upset for being told off. Newton raises a brow in challenge and taps his laptop. Reminding the child why they are both here in the first place. There is a shaky moment, where Chuck looks determined to be mad just on principle. Before he takes a small breath and relaxes. “'M sorry” he mumbles and shuffles further away from the travel bag.
“It's okay, just ask. I've got nothing to hide.” He opens the the laptop and hits the power button. “If you wanna dig around go ahead. Just, for future reference. Ask, okay?”
Chuck's forehead does it's furrow thing again. He's gonna have wrinkles by the time he's 18 at this rate. Then he smiles, smaller and more like the first few he gave back in the lab. “Okay.” he agrees, but instead of diving back into Newt's belongings he hops up onto the bed and stares at the booting computer.
Newton tries to get comfortable on his bed, a fools errand, and puts in his totally unguessable password that has nothing to do with Godzilla.
Don't judge him. It's his personnel computer. It's not like he has big military grade secrets to steal on here. The most someone would get would be some bootlegged music, Japanese original Kaiju movies, and some of the doodles he's been tossing around for more tattoos. Hardly worth the effort.
Chuck is bouncing slightly, waiting impatiently for all of Newton's starter pop-ups to do their thing. Once everything has been given a cursory check, and his Anti-virus has popped up to announce he's virus free, he pull's up his pictures.
There are a lot more then he remembers. Most of them he received from various students, interns, and graduates through the years. Graduation ceremonies, some of him teaching, a large number of group hugs with his students. Newt scrolls through those with fondness, but picks up the pace because he's here for his shark-diving. Not a trip down memory lane.
Finally the sea of cheerful men and women faded to ocean water and The Steadfast, a boat that had been neither steady nor fast. Chuck wiggled as close as he could get without climbing into Newt's skin.
“Here,” he stood up and plopped the computer back onto the bed. Much to Chuck' befuddlement. “Just click when you wanna go to the next one. I need to unpack anyways.”
“You don't wanna' look at 'em?” the child visibly deflated. Picking at his stained t-shirt with a put out frown.
“Hey, none of that.” He reached out without thinking and ruffles the kid's short hair. “I was the one being circled by sharks. I think I can remember it just fine without having to look at my blurry pictures.” he didn't see the look that passed over Chuck's face as he pulled his suitcase over to the area that was meant to serve as a closet. “Beside, this way you can look as long as you want at the ones you like.”
There was a pause for a moment before Chuck gave a weak “Thank you.” and the clicking of the built in mouse was heard.
“It's all good, feel free to ask questions. Or you know, play music. Whatever you wanna do.” He shrugs, God did he forget to bring hangers? Uhhg, of course he did. Which of course the PPDC wouldn't supply something so basic. Damn, it looked there was going to be a lot of folding in his future. Or he could go harass Hermann for some. Surely with all those sweater-vests and ironed pants he had a couple hangers to loan, or to steal. Which was basically the same thing you know, semantics really.
After some time Chuck finally pipes up with “So, where did you go. Ya'know, to dive?”
“Hmm? Oh, the Philippines.” he answers vaguely, fighting with his shirts since they all refused to fold correctly. It has absolutely nothing to do with his lack of laundry skills. Nothing.
“Why there?” Chuck asks, like he is really confused by Newton's choice of diving locations.
Newton gives up the battle with his shirts and turns around to answer. Only suddenly, there is a loud buzz around the base. Both of them stop what they are doing. Shit, is it a Kaiju? Newt wonders, with his usual mixture of gleeful terror at the prospect.
-Would Charles Hansen please come to LOCCENT. Your Father is waiting - Comes the announcement from whoever the J-Tech Chief Officer of this base is. Sounds like a girl. Newt makes a mental note to find out whoever they are. Being friends with the people watching the breach is important. Or else when he shows up in LOCCENT to get real time updates on the Kaiju they tend to kick him out.
Chuck literally stops breathing for a moment, eyes wide and fist trembling.
“Hey...” Newt looks at the boy and his sentence trails off, unsure of what to say.
The boy breathes hard after he remembers to take in air, face turning a blistering shade of red. Newt takes a step closer and flinches back when Chuck literally slams his face into the bed and gives a shrill, angry scream. The hard plastic barely muffles any of the sound, and his door is wide open.
“No! That's cheating! No!” he shrieks, face-down and shaking. “He can't do that!”
Newton hesitantly moves closer, and gingerly sits on the edge of his bed. When Chuck doesn't lash out or keep screaming he reaches over and closes his laptop and sets it out of the way.
Chuck is quiet, but his fingers are digging holes in Newt's bed. It seems like sheer force of will that the child isn't kicking and flailing.
He's honestly at a lose for what to do. This feels like it's been building up long before he came into the picture. All points coming to a head when Chuck whispered that he wanted his Father to come find him and currently exploding as Chuck realizes he's not going to get that.
So all he does is reach out and place a hand on the child's back. He doesn't want to seem uncaring, but he's also not sure on how comfortable the boy would be if he was swooped up into a hug. That's how his parents and Uncle had always comforted him, but it wasn't everyone's cup of tea.
Chuck stills, and Newt is about to pull his hand away when the boy suddenly burst into tears. Literally between one breath and the next. Chuck pulls his arms in and buries his face into them. Giving a angry mumbled repetition of “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” As he shakes like a leaf in a storm.
“Hey now, none of that.” Newton murmurs, very aware that his door is open. He is so unprepared to deal with this.
Newt makes a repetitive petting motion along the child's spine, intending for it to be soothing but not sure if it was working. He also hoped that if anyone should chance by they won't think he's creeping on a defenseless child. God, the Marshall would have his ass so fast it would break Newtonian Physics.
“I won't go!” Chuck hisses suddenly“I don't care. He forgot.” His tone is almost scorching, the heat only tempered by the wet hiccups that come after. Newt keeps stroking and worries his bottom lip. He doesn't want to harbor the boy away. His Father is a well trained ranger who could kick his ass and make his life a living hell while he's stationed here. On the other hand. Chuck is very, very upset and kicking him out is not going to make anything better.
“I'm sorry, Chuck.” He finally murmurs, not knowing what else to say.
Chuck stills again. Before peeking up with red rimmed eyes. Angry, tear-filled, red rimmed eyes. “Sorry?” He barks. “You gonna go get my Dad?” The accusation flies even as his lower lip wobbles, but he keeps his scowl despite it. He looks like he wants to say something else but seals his mouth shut so tight his lips go white.
Newt shakes his head. “No, that's not what I meant.” He sighs and mentally vows to look into child psychology when he's got some free time. “I just don't know how to make this better.” He finally says. Chuck looks away and blinks back a fresh wave of tears. He hiccups louder now and wipes his nose on his shirt sleeve. And with a pang, Newton realizes all this crying is dirtying Chuck's last shark shirt further.
He idly wishes he had some Kleenex. Or anything to clean up the boy's face really.
After a moment, Chuck pushes himself up to sit. So Newton lets his hand drop into his own lap.
“I'm not gonna go.” He says, staring Newton straight in the eye.
“Okay.” Is all Newton can offer. He's not going to kick the kid out. Even if his dad can kick his ass.
Chuck stares longer, and his lower lip wobbles more. “I'm not gonna go.” he says again. Like he wants a different answer. Want's to be told to leave.
Newton takes a small breath and tries to smile. “Okay.” It doesn't feel like a real smile, too shaky. Too brittle. But the best he can offer in the situation.
Chuck grits his teeth and digs his fingernails into his shorts, looking down. Obviously trying to stop the tears that are coming hot and fast. So Newton reaches out and gently pries the boys hands away from causing pain. “Hey,” he murmurs “It's okay.” Chuck isn't looking at him, but his face is blotchy and red all the way from his ears to his collar. “You don't have to go.”
Chuck takes three deep breaths, each one sounding wet and achy. Before shaking his head.
“No?” Newton asks, about to let go of Chuck's hands. When the boy suddenly latches onto his retreating fingers. Holding them in the same white knuckled grip he'd had on his blanket during Finding Nemo.
“Will you get in trouble.” He asks haltingly, not looking up. “If I stay.”
“Honestly? Probably.” he answers wryly, turning his own hands over so he can loosely grip Chuck's hands back. “I've never been known for my good decisions though.”
Chuck is quiet again, shakes only a little and sniffles instead of using his shirt. “Can I come back?” he asked, growing softer with every word. “If I go now, can I come back later.”
“Of course you can.” He agrees, wondering where the kid's sudden 180 in attitude came from. “You haven't seen all my shark pictures yet.” the joke falls kind of flat, but he tries any way.
Chuck's fingers are digging into Newt's hands, and it kind of hurts. The kid has one hell of a grip. So he disengages one hand, which is a small battle in itself, and uses the free palm to gently ruffle the boy's blond hair again. “You can come to my room or my lab whenever I’m there. I promise, if I'm not eating or showering I'm in one of them.” Chuck sort of leans into the hand in his hair, and Newton freezes to let the kid do what he wants.
“I'll go.” Chuck mumbles and slowly lets go of Newton's remaining fingers. Letting the digits regain both blood and feeling as the boy slinks off the plastic bed.
“You sure?” Newt can't help but feel like he's missed something here. Something big. He isn't sure if he's fixed the problem or just made things much worse. He will freely admit he does not like not knowing things. It's what makes him a good scientist.
Chuck nods and finally looks up. His eyes are red, wet, and so startling blue it's like staring at the bioluminescent glow of a Kaiju. “Yeah,” he's got a tiny little smile. A broken and wobbly thing, but still there. “Yeah I'm sure.”
The green bag gets shouldered on, and Chuck is rubbing his puffy eyes on equal parts backpack strap and shark shirt.
“Bye, Newt.” He waves, slowly edging towards the door.
Newt smiled and gave a small wave back. “See you soon, Chuck.”
And with that the child walked out the door, shoulders tense but his gait steady.
Newton watched the boy leave, and when he was outside the shallow sight his door gave him. Flopped back onto his plastic-wrapper bed.
What the hell had he just gotten himself into, this was not how his first day was supposed to go.
----------------------
Oh god, this got long. Chuck, Baby, you weren't supposed to cry. You were supposed to be a big man who wasn't gonna show any emotion and be mad. Which is an emotion. It wasn't supposed to get that sad though.
Well at least I can start the time jumps now. Thank God
