The mattress in the on-call room is lumpy. Jackson twists and turns trying to get comfortable. He just got off a 5-hour surgery and didn't even fight Mark's murmurs about needing to get some rest. It's been a long day. He really should've savored that shift with no surgeries and just a few consults. Until now, he hasn't had time to sit still. Or more accurately, lay still.
Even now, that proves to be a problem.
Jackson's the only one in the on-call room, which he counts as a blessing. He's able to toss back and forth on the creaky bed in the fruitless task to find just the right spot. Jackson chews on his lip. Mark can't tuck him in. Well, he could've, but Jackson wouldn't risk anyone seeing. Even if no other doctors are in here, how is it going to look if they go in together and only Mark walks out?
He pulls out his phone and puts on another episode of Scooby Doo. Jackson adjusts his earbuds so they won't fall out during his slumber. After double checking that his pager is still on, he clamps his eyes shut. The room is dark, no windows. Jackson kicks off the itchy blanket, then twists one last time.
It takes a full episode of the Mystery Gang solving a mystery for Jackson to finally drift off to dreamland.
The bus is dark as it rattles through the night. The people around him are an attack to the senses. Someone has wet themselves. A few are crying. One is screaming obscenities. Jackson is curled up against the leather seat, staring out the window as the sights go rushing by. He clutches Hank in his arms, chewing on his lip.
When he catches a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, he expects to see himself at 17. Rather, he comes face to face with a man that has a light goatee. Large bags beneath his eyes and creases in his forehead. He's a bit taller. Rather than his old polos and jeans, now he sports a navy-blue hoodie advertising Seattle Grace Mercy West.
Jackson's heart beats heavily in his chest. He stands up on the shaky bus. Each step nearly causes him to trip, but he regains his balance. He ignores the warning of a faceless passenger to sit back down. With Hank clutched under his arm, he tries to make his way to the front of the bus.
"Mark!"
The only sounds that greet him are those of the terrified passengers. Jackson clears his throat.
"Mark!"
A rough hand grabs onto his shoulder. Jackson spins around, hope building up inside of him. Surely, Mark has come for him.
Instead, he finds himself face to face with a tall, skinny-nearly boney-man. His graying brown hair wisps across his forehead. His bright blue eyes slant in Jackson's direction as he tsks. Jackson swallows. He hasn't seen the director of the camp in 16 years. Why is he here? Jackson attempts to scoot back, but Duncan digs his fingernails into his shoulder.
"You need to take your seat, Jackson," he says, his voice dripping with authority. "We'll be there soon."
"I…I want to get off," Jackson just barely makes out.
"I'm afraid that's not possible."
Jackson clears his throat, standing up straight. "I'm an adult now," he insists. "You can't force me to go anywhere!"
"Are you an adult? Really?" Duncan shoots him a pitiful stare. "You stand before me, wearing a sweatshirt from your caregiver's hospital…"
"My hospital."
"Do not interrupt me, boy," he growls. Jackson whimpers. "You allow him to bathe you. Put diapers on you." Duncan wrinkles his nose in disgust. "You are the furthest thing from a man. All that training and hard work, all thrown out the window."
"I want to be a Little!" Jackson snaps. "I don't want to hide it anymore! I can be both!"
"That's a lie you've allowed him to feed you." Duncan shakes his head. "As if that man truly wants to care for you. He'll grow bored. Just as everyone does."
Jackson's lip quivers. "That's not true!"
"Ah, but it is."
The bus heads over a speedbump. Jackson nearly falls backwards. Duncan catches his arm and pulls him closer. He looks him up and down. His eyes train on Jackson's hands.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? It seems a naughty boy has yet to learn his lesson."
With his free hand, Duncan digs his fingers into Hank's fur. Jackson fights back, grunting. It's of no use. Duncan is stronger. In slow motion, the stuffed animal is ripped from his grasp. Jackson sobs, making grabby hands.
"Stuffed animals are for babies," Duncan proclaims. "You are not a baby."
Jackson isn't sure when one of the windows opened, nor when it began to rain, but Hank is thrown out into it. Jackson screams, fighting against the evil man. No amount of punching and kicking will set him free.
"Mark!"
Jackson's breathing is heavy as his eyes shoot open. He frantically looks around the room.
"Mark!" He's only greeted by darkness. Tears trickle down his cheek. The salty taste falls into his mouth given his vertical position. "Mark!"
Jackson feels around. Hank. Where is Hank?
"Hank!" Jackson sobs. "Mark!"
A familiar voice that does not belong to his caregiver echoes through the room. "Jackson?"
Jackson tries to sit, backing up a bit. His head collides with something hard.
"Owww!" He cries out, rubbing the back of it. The tears fall harder. "Mark!"
"Mark's not here," the voice whispers. "It's Alex."
Jackson's tears pick up and he curls into himself. No, no! Alex isn't supposed to be here! Mark promised him! No one had to know!
"G…G'way," Jackson mutters.
"I'm not going to do that. Can you shut your eyes?"
Stubbornly, Jackson refuses. He rocks back and forth in place. He doesn't have Hank or Mark. The only bit of comfort are his scrubs, and that's not much.
Light floods the room. Jackson blinks to adjust his wet eyes. Alex stands in the center of the room, wearing his own matching scrubs. Jackson whimpers, tucking his head into his knees.
"It's okay," Alex says. "It's okay."
"Go away!" Jackson whines.
"No."
"Yes!"
"No!"
Jackson swears he hears Alex mutter something about how his parents must feel. He ignores the sentiment, not fully understanding it.
"Don't like you," Jackson lies. "Go far, far away."
"You can hate me all you want, buddy, but I'm not going anywhere." Footsteps come closer. "I know what you're feeling right now. It's not fun at all."
Jackson shakes his head. His stomach hurts, terribly. There's a wet feeling beneath his scrubs. If he moves his legs, Alex will see. Then Alex will know he's a baby.
Alex can't know!
"Mark," Jackson whines. "I want Mark!"
The bed squeaks. Jackson finally looks up and finds Alex sitting at the edge of it. His friend takes him in for a minute. Jackson gnaws on his lip.
"Is Mark your caregiver?"
Jackson wants to lie. He wants to run far, far away. Maybe he could hide somewhere else. Somewhere no one will find him. Well, except maybe Mark. They can go home and he can lay in his bed, hug Hank tight…
If Hank is okay.
Where is he?
Jackson scrubs at his face. "Not a baby," he whispers.
"No?" Jackson shakes his head. "Well, I'll tell you something my parents tell me. It's okay to be a baby."
"You're a baby," Jackson says petulantly. "I'm a big boy."
That doesn't sound right either.
Alex snorts. "Okay, big boy. Why don't we try to find Mark?"
Jackson shakes his head. "No!"
"You were just asking for him."
"Can't…can't go."
Alex tilts his head. Jackson kicks his legs out, nearly getting his friend in the process. Alex moves quickly. Jackson throws himself back down on the uncomfortable bed, pounding his fists. Why is this so hard for him to understand?
"Not leaving! No!"
Alex clicks his tongue. "You don't want people to see?" Jackson sniffles, nodding. "They might have to."
"No!" Jackson screeches. Alex inches back a bit. "No one sees! No one knows! Mark promised!"
"Okay, okay. I'll…I'll figure something out."
Jackson bites his lip. Alex doesn't look angry or mean right now. He almost looks scared.
He scared his friend.
That makes the tears fall faster.
"I'm sorry," Jackson whispers. "Don't…don't be sad."
Alex's face softens. "Hey, man, I'm not sad, alright? Look, I'm going to go find Mark. He can come here and sort this out."
That idea doesn't bring much comfort. "Alone?"
"Well, you could come with me, but then people would see. I don't really think that's a bad thing, but I get it if you don't want them to." Alex sighs. "I've been there."
Jackson considers his options. He could go find Mark on his own. That's something a big boy would do! But his scrubs are wet and he's crying. There's no doubting someone would see. No one can see him like this.
"Go."
"Are you sure?" Alex asks. Jackson nods. "Alright, man. Just stay here. I'll be right back."
Jackson curls back into himself as Alex leaves the room. He stares at the painted brick wall, inhaling through his nose then exhaling through his mouth.
He isn't sure how much time passes. It feels like hours. Maybe even a day. And yet, the clock on the wall doesn't seem to move so fast.
Eventually, the door opens. Jackson tightens up a bit. No one else can sleep in here right now!
"Ducky?"
Jackson shoots up and holds his arms open. Mark rushes over and hugs him tight, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Jackson clings to his lab coat, sobbing into his shoulder.
"Shhh, it's alright," Mark coos. "I'm here, I've gotcha."
"Alone," Jackson whispers.
"I know you were. I'm sorry, baby boy. I'm so sorry."
"Want you."
"I'm right here, Mark's right here for his little ducky. I'd never be far, hm?"
Jackson shakes his head. "Alex?"
"He's with his daddy."
"He knows?"
Mark is quiet. Jackson whimpers. His caregiver rubs soothing circles on his back.
"I know you didn't want him to, baby. I'm sorry."
Jackson whines, not letting go of him. "Not fair."
"It's not, you deserved to tell people on your own time. I'm so sorry, Ducky."
Mark keeps apologizing. None of this is his fault. It's Jackson's! Why did he have to wake up feeling so small?
"But let's not worry about that," Mark whispers, caressing the back of Jackson's neck. "How about I change my sweet boy and we get out of here?
"Work?"
Mark shakes his head. "I'm all done for the day. I signed you out as well. It's time we get home. But, I'm not going to let you sit in these wet scrubs. No, sir. Lay back on the bed for me."
Jackson doesn't let go. If anything, he clings tighter. Mark gently pries his hands away. Jackson makes grabby hands for him. Mark backs up a bit, but puts something in the little one's grasp.
"Hank!" Jackson hugs him close to his chest.
"I had a feeling you might need him," Mark explains. "You think you can let me change you now?"
Jackson nods, laying back down against the pillow. Hank is safe! He's not out in the rain. That mean man never got to him.
He's not on that bus, going to that awful place. No, Jackson is at the hospital. His second home. He's with the man who's promised to take care of him.
Mark removes his shoes and socks before tugging down the scrub pants along with Jackson's briefs. "Can you lift your legs for me?" Jackson complies. "That's my good boy. Let's get you nice and dry."
Jackson kisses the top of Hank's head as he's wiped. Cream is applied quickly afterwards. Something soft, crinkly, is put under his bottom and taped up.
"We can get you in the tub when we get home and put you in some real jammies," Mark promises. "For now, we can get you out of here in some sweats. Would my Ducky like that?"
Jackson nods, his thumb going for his mouth. "Yes, please."
Mark gently pushes the thumb away. "I can give you a pacifier. People may see. Which isn't a bad thing," he quickly clarifies. "But I want to make sure you know."
Jackson bites his lip. He really, really wants to suck his thumb. It's one of the few things that'll make him feel better right about now. His pacifier is a close second.
What if someone else saw? No one would look at him like the big boy he is! They'd just see a little baby!
Alex already saw him that way. He's probably telling everyone right now.
Jackson whimpers, rubbing at his eyes. "Paci," he whines without a second thought.
"Sounds like a deal. We'll get you out of here nice and quick. Sit up for a moment, my sweet boy."
Jackson reluctantly sits up. He whines when Hank is moved so Mark can change him from his scrub top to a sweatshirt. This one is soft and gray. It has some design on the front that Jackson doesn't recognize. He runs his finger against it.
"You're a Yankees fan now." Mark smirks. "That's mandatory." He hesitates. "Just joking. Kind of." Jackson tilts his head. "We'll talk about it later."
Jackson isn't sure what the Yankees are right in this moment. They sound familiar, but his brain is too muddled to make out the connection. Regardless, the sweatshirt is cozy. It smells like Mark. Plus, now that it's on, he can hold Hank again.
Once the matching sweatpants are on, Mark clips a pacifier to the hoodie. The design matches the outfit. Mark slips the nipple into his mouth and Jackson instantly begins sucking. His caregiver flips up the hood and adjusts the strings.
"There is nothing wrong with being Little," Mark whispers, cupping his cheek. Jackson sucks harder. "I'm not doing this to hide who you are. I just know that when you're big, you wanted to hide this. You're not naughty or bad. I'm trying to protect Big Jackson, just as I do Baby Jack Jack." Jackson slowly nods. "I need you to tell me, not naughty. Jack Jack is a good boy."
"Good boy," Jackson mumbles behind the pacifier. "No naug'y."
Mark sighs with a smile on his face. He squeezes his chin. "That's my good boy. C'mon, let's get you out of here."
He helps Jackson stand up. Mark reaches down and picks up his cell phone and abandoned earbuds. It's only then Jackson is reminded of the cartoon he was watching before sleep. Mark drops them into a bag the little one only just realized he had. His caregiver slings it over his shoulder and wraps an arm around him.
"Are we ready?" Jackson nods, hugging Hank close to his chest. "Alright, let's get you home."
Mark leads him out of the on-call room. The hospital is loud. Lots of people rush past, but none stop to take a second look. Jackson leans into Mark as they walk forward. The elevator is so close. They're mere feet away when someone stops in front of them. Jackson tenses up, burying his face into Mark's shoulder. His caregiver, rubs his back.
"It's alright, Ducky. It's just Derek."
Jackson peeks his head out. Sure enough, there he is. "Der'k," he mumbles.
Derek's smiling. He squeezes Jackson's shoulder. "Hey, bud. It's alright. I know this is all so new and scary. But I'm here for you. So is Meredith. Alex too." Jackson's eyes widen, his heartbeat picking up. "He knows to be quiet. Trust me, he understands."
Jackson shakes his head. Derek just squeezes his shoulder again and looks at Mark.
"I'll call you later," he says.
Mark nods. "Sure thing. Say bye, Jack."
Jackson waves. "Bye bye," he whispers, still sucking on his pacifier.
"Aw." Derek gives him one last squeeze. "Goodbye, bud."
The elevator doors open as soon as Mark presses the button. Luckily, they're the only two in there. As soon as the doors shut, Mark kisses the side of his head.
"My brave little man," he coos. "You did so good!"
"Scawee," Jackson lisps.
"I know, but look at how far you got! I'm so proud of you. And you were very polite to Derek."
"Nice."
"He can be very nice. Sometimes a pain in the a…butt, but he is here for you. So is Meredith, just like he said. And…"
"No," Jackson interrupts.
"Okay, okay. The "A" word is off the table for now."
Jackson relaxes. He lets out a deep breath, losing his pacifier in the process. Mark slips it back into his mouth before he can fuss. Jackson resumes sucking, blocking out the thoughts of his friend. All he wants to think about is Hank, his pacifier, a bubble bath and his…Mark.
His Mark.