Fair
Jon plunked down on the edge of his bed, angrily resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. They had just been having fun. How was he supposed to know that dad would call it roughhousing?
Jordan closed the door behind them when they got to their room, and he ran to his bed, hugging his pillow in both arms, completely hiding his face.
It was so not fair. Dad already told them not to roughhouse in the house three times today. If Jon had known that just play wrestling with his brother was roughhousing—even though he was just pretending!—they never would've done it. He wasn't trying to be disobedient. He just hadn't really thought about it. Dad said that was the problem, and that was why they were in trouble. He yelled at them to go up to their room and said he would be there in a minute.
"This sucks," Jon said, then he giggled to himself a little. He wasn't supposed to say that word, but Dad couldn't hear him right now. "Sucks, sucks, sucks."
He looked up at Jordan. Jordan had set the pillow aside. He was breathing hard, and his face was turning red. There were tears in his eyes.
Jon had seen this happen before. He got up from his own bed and went over to Jordans. "Are you having a panic attack?"
Jordan didn't say anything, but his breathing got louder, and a couple of tears fell down his face. Jon was pretty sure that meant yes.
Usually, when Jordan was having an anxiety attack, Jon was supposed to call Mom or Dad up to their room. But Dad had been very clear. He said they weren't supposed to go downstairs until he got there.
Jon stood at the door for a moment, wondering if he should try to go down there anyway, and he decided to just try to help Jordan on his own. He sat down next to Jordan on the bed and copied what Mom usually did.
"Remember your deep breaths," he said, but it didn't seem to do anything. Mom always said it better. He didn't know how, but she always did.
Jordan pulled his knees into his chest, and his wheezing got worse.
"Um. Can you use your words?" That was what Dad usually said.
"Dad… gonna come… trouble…"
Jon frowned. "Are you scared of being in trouble?"
Jordan squeezed his knees so tight, his knuckles turned white.
"It's not gonna be that bad." Jon felt a little nervous, but not too much. Dad was never all that scary. Mom sometimes was, and Grandpa could be really scary, but Dad never really did anything bad. He might tell them they couldn't have dessert or something. Sometimes, if it was really bad, he might not let them play video games for the rest of the day. That might happen today. Dad seemed really upset. It would suck, but it wasn't bad enough that Jordan should be crying.
Jordan didn't seem to agree. His rocking slowed down, but he rocked a lot harder, his head banging against his knees.
"It's OK." Jon came to sit beside Jordan and patted him on the back. "What are you scared of?"
Jordan buried his face even deeper into his knees, rocking back-and-forth. "He's so… so mad at me…"
"I don't think he's that mad."
"So mad…"
"Hey, he might be more mad at me. I kind of started it." Jon didn't know if that was true, but it seemed like this panic attack was worse than anything Dad or Mom or even Grandpa had ever done.
Jordan started sobbing, tears streaming down his face.
Jon frowned. This really wasn't fair. They had both done the same thing, and Mom and Dad always tried to give them the same punishment when they did the same thing, but Jordan had to have a panic attack, too. That was a lot worse.
That gave Jon an idea.
He patted Jordan's back one more time. "It's OK. You don't have to be scared. I'm going to help."
Jordan didn't respond.
Jon slipped right outside the door, closing it behind him. He stood beside it, ready for his dad to come up. He knew he was supposed to stay in his room, but he was stuck next to the doorway, that was kind of the same as being on time out.
Jon's throat felt a little dry and uncomfortable, and his tummy felt funny. Now he was kind of scared about his own plan. But it was more fair this way. Even with his plan, Jordan probably still had it worse.
A few minutes later, he heard his dad's footsteps on the stairs. His dad gave him a serious look. "I thought I told you to stay in your room."
Jon took a deep breath. "Dad, could you give me two punishments?"
His dad gave him a very, very weird look. "What do you mean, Jon?"
Maybe his dad didn't understand. "Like, if you were gonna take away dessert tonight, I could not have dessert two nights."
"Why do you want two punishments, Jon?"
"Because... I think... you could give me two and not give Jordan one."
His dad blinked a few times. Then he knelt down in front of him. "Why would I... Are you... Why do you want that, Jon?"
"Because... I kind of started it, sort of?" He twisted his fingers a little.
"Jon, what's going on? Usually you try to talk me out of punishing you."
"Yeah but... can I just have two and he gets zero?" He didn't understand why Dad was so confused. It seemed really simple to him.
"That doesn't seem fair, kiddo."
"That's what I was thinking though! Because he's getting a panic attack and I didn't have one, and—"
Dad stood up and rushed into the room, Jon following close behind. He ran over to the bed and scooped Jordan up into his arms. "Hey, buddy, I'm here. Deep breaths, Jordan."
"That's what I told him," Jon said.
Dad squeezed Jordan tighter. "Sh, sh. I've got you. I've got you."
"You're so...so mad..."
"No, no, I'm not mad. I'm not mad, Jordan."
"You yelled really really loud," Jordan cried.
"I'm sorry I yelled. I was just trying to keep you safe."
"See?" Jon said. "I don't think you should punish him while he's like that, he's too scared. You can just give me two."
Jordan twisted to look up at him. "No! Jon!"
"Nobody's getting punished twice," Dad said, smoothing down Jordan's hair and brushing it away from his face. "Jordan, can you talk to me? What's got you so worried?"
"You're really mad at me."
"I'm not mad anymore."
"You were mad downstairs!"
"What did you think I was going to do?"
"Y-yell at me a lot."
"Yeah? What else?"
Jordan shrugged. "I don't know."
"I didn't mean to scare you. I just didn't want you two getting hurt or breaking anything in the house."
Jordan's breathing was slowing down. His face was still really red, but he wasn't rocking anymore, which probably meant the panic attack was ending. Jon came over to sit down next to him. "Why were you so scared?"
Jordan shook his head, turning to bury his face in dad's chest. "I don't know," he said. "I just get scared sometimes. And then I have a panic attack."
Dad rubbed his back. "Did I startle you?"
"Yeah." Jordan wiped his eyes.
"Are you okay now?"
"Yeah."
Jon patted Jordan's back a couple of time and looked up at his dad. "See? He already had his punishment. Maybe you could give him zero and just give me one."
"Boys, I sent you up here for a time-out. That was the punishment."
"...Oh." Jon felt very silly. "Is it over?"
"Yeah. That's what I came up here to tell you." He lifted Jordan off his lap and set him down on the bed. "But right now, I think we all need to have a serious talk."
Jon knew what that meant. It didn't always mean they were in trouble, but it meant they really had to listen. He scooted closer to Jordan on the bed, looking over one more time to make sure he was OK. Then he looked up at Dad, who was kneeling in front of them and looking up at both of them.
"Jonathan," he started, "it's very nice that you care so much about your brother. But you each make your own choices, and if he's in trouble, you can't take his punishment for him."
"Why not?"
"That's just... not how it works, buddy. When you disobey me, you both have to learn your own lesson. You can't learn his lesson for him."
"Okayy," Jon said. He felt a little embarrassed, and his voice sounded kind of disappointed, but on the inside, he was relieved. He really didn't want two punishments. He didn't even want one.
"Good," Dad said, then he looked over at Jordan. "Jordan, sometimes you're going to be in trouble. Sometimes people are gonna get mad at you, whether that's me, Mom, Grandpa, your teachers at school… It's just part of life. But if any of us scare you, I want you to use your words before you get here to the point of having a panic attack."
"I don't know what to say."
"You say this. Dad, you're scaring me. Can you say that?"
"Dad, you're scaring me."
"Just like that." He stood up. "Can you tell me why you guys were sent up here?"
"Roughhousing inside," Jordan said.
"Disobeying," Jon said.
"Do you have anything to say?"
Jon didn't know what he meant, but then Jordan said, "Sorry," and Jon said it, too.
"Okay. I forgive you." Dad bent over to hug both Jon and Jordan at the same time. Jon always liked when he did that. "I think we've all been cooped up inside for long enough. We're going to the park."
Jon jumped up from the bed. "Really?"
"Let's all get our shoes and jackets. I'm going to go find my keys."
Jon smiled back at Jordan, and they both ran for their shoes. Jordan's eyes were still a little red, but he mostly looked better.
This was going to be so much fun! They could ride on the swings and use the monkey bars and play in the sand. They could even play wrestle out there. They were allowed to do that outside, just not inside.
Jordan and Jon were both joking and laughing while they tied their shoes and pretended the laces were snakes and tried to make them bite each other. Then while Dad wasn't watching, they had a burping contest and Jon won. And Jordan found a two week old goldfish cracker in his jacket pocket, and Jon dared him to eat it, and he did, but he said it didn't even taste bad.
By the time they headed out the door, Jon couldn't even really remember what they had all been so upset about.
A/N: I love hearing your thoughts! Also open to consider suggestions for one-shots. I can't make any promises, but I've filled quite a lot of requests over the years.