Contains non-sexual age regression. I don't know what this is, haha. I've been reading Grey's agere fics (totally recommend RowdyBoy's Alex & MerDer series!) and this came to mind. I loved Jackson and Mark's relationship. Mark was such a dad to him.
Sofia doesn't exist here. Love her, but she's not needed.
Anyway, let me know what you think!
"Get up," Mark orders.
Jackson doesn't look up from his note cards.
"Jackson Avery, I said get up."
Jackson rereads the card. His head pounds heavily and his eyes droop.
What is the key resuspension technique in brachioplasty?
"Do not make me grab you by your ear," Mark continues, his voice growing increasingly annoyed.
"Resuspension, resuspension," Jackson mutters under his breath, his hand fumbling for his mug.
Mark yanks it out of reach. This breaks Jackson out of his trance as he glares up at him. Mark's unfazed, shaking his head as he crosses to the sink.
"I need coffee or I'm never going to finish tonight," Jackson says, standing up. He has to hold onto the chair to prevent himself from falling.
"That was kind of my point. It's nearly midnight."
"Not close to my record. I was up until 3 AM last night. Then had a 6 AM surgery."
"I know. I heard all about it." Mark clicks his tongue. "You were wired on coffee and your hands were too shaky to hold the scalpel."
"Once I get through the boards, I'll go back to getting…well, I don't think I've had a full night's sleep since my undergrad, but I'll survive."
"Or, you'll drop dead of a heart attack by 35."
Jackson rolls his eyes and walks over to the sink, managing to keep himself from falling. Mark holds the mug above his head. Jackson scoffs.
"Are you fucking with me right now?"
"I can assure you, I am not joking around."
Mark dumps the cold coffee. Before Jackson can grab the pot, his superior has tossed that too. Jackson locks his jaw.
"You can go home now."
"See, I don't think I will. The second I walk out this door, you're going to brew a fresh pot then start studying those cards. Again."
"You're damn straight! Did you not hear me when I said boards are in 2 weeks?!"
"It's all I've heard about!" Mark fires back. "You are killing yourself!"
"I need to pass."
"You'll do fine."
"I need to do better than fine! I need to do great! I'm a…"
"An Avery," Mark finishes for him. His voice is lower now, soft. Jackson fidgets. He hates when Mark gets like this. Why can't he stay the smarmy jerk who talks way too much about getting laid? "Once again, it's all you've talked about."
Jackson shakes his head. Okay, so maybe he has. But it's true. His grandfather is Harper freaking Avery of all people. The founder of the Harper Avery Foundation. Not to mention his mother, the Catherine Fox. Good may cut it for the likes of April Kepner or Alex Karev.
The expectations for Jackson are higher. Everyone knows that.
"Fine, you'll do great," Mark says. "Is that what you need to hear to put the flash cards away, bathe and go to bed?"
"You're saying that because I did."
"I mean it. Jackson, we've been at this for weeks. I know for a fact you've been prepping for years. Whatever it's going to be, is what it will be."
"Are you saying I should stop studying?!"
"No! I'm saying you need to relax. If you keep it up like this, you're going to fail. Not because you didn't study, but because none of it will stick if you're a waking corpse."
"I won't be the first or last resident to show up sleep deprived."
Mark puts the coffee pot on the counter. "Fine. Then you won't be the last to fail because you don't want to take care of yourself."
Jackson frowns. He blinks several times, the exhaustion eating away at his bones. Mark's words wash over him like a tsunami.
"Are you saying this shit to Meredith? Or Kepner?" Jackson whispers. "Why the hell are you here harassing me?!"
"One, you asked for my help. They didn't."
"Help studying! Not bossing me around! You're not my father, Mark!"
Jackson isn't sure why a flash of hurt goes across Mark's blue eyes. Just as quickly as it comes, it disappears.
"Two," Mark continues, his voice low. "I know for a fact that you haven't dropped in quite some time."
Jackson freezes. His heart begins to beat heavily in his chest as his mind spins.
No…that's not possible.
His grandfather made sure those records were sealed. He sent Jackson to that facility. It was taken care of. His mother said she told Richard, but that's only because he has to know. Catherine and Harper promised no one else would know.
"I…I…" Jackson clears his throat. "I'm not…no."
He shakes his head. Mark tilts his head. Pity's written on his face. Oh, hell no! He will not have Mark fricking Sloan pitying him.
"I don't know where you got that information from," Jackson growls. "But I am not… that ."
"The signs are there."
"No!" Jackson stomps his foot. "No! No! No!"
Mark is quiet for the first time since they met. Tears of exhaustion and frustration build up in Jackson's eyes.
"No! I'm not a little kid!"
"There's nothing wrong with this," Mark whispers. "I know plenty of people…"
"Well, I'm not! I'm a big boy!"
The words slip out of his mouth before he can help it. No! He is not going to do this.
Jackson storms out of the kitchen as fast as his tired eyes will allow. He stands in the middle of the living room, clamping his eyes shut.
You are a strong man. You are an Avery. You are not a Little. Averys are not Littles.
Jackson repeats the mantra over and over in his head. He's a big boy…a grown man! He's on his way to being a top surgeon.
Footsteps follow behind him. "Jackson."
"Go away!" Jackson demands, opening his eyes. He refuses to look back at Mark. "Leave me alone!"
"I'm not going to do that."
"I'm not a little kid! You can't make me be one!"
"I'm not forcing you into anything. You're the one kicking your feet."
Jackson tries to stop himself, but is unable. He turns to his face the wall, focusing his kicking there. Jackson screams, pounding his fists next.
"'m not a little boy!"
His legs grow weak and he sinks to the floor. He lands fast, hard, on his butt. Jackson whimpers, rubbing at his eyes.
A pair of hands lift him up by the armpits. Jackson's struggles against Mark are futile.
"Stop!"
Mark's arms wrap tightly around him. Jackson whimpers punching at his chest. Mark stands still.
"I…I hate you!"
Mark chuckles. "Why?"
"This is your fault!"
"Pretty sure that I wasn't there the day you were classified."
"You brought it up!"
"Because I care about you, buddy," Mark whispers. "This isn't healthy."
"I…I can't be little."
Mark gently rocks him as they stand. "Why?"
"'Cause…I'm an Avery."
"That's irrelevant. C'mon now."
Jackson wants to argue, but exhaustion creeps on him once again. Mark keeps an arm around him as they walk down the hall. He leads Jackson into the bedroom.
"You are far too tired for a bath," Mark says. "So, let's just get you in some jammies."
"Nuh uh," Jackson whines. "Not sleepy."
"Oh, you're not?"
"'Cause I'm big!"
"I see. Well, I think you're a very sleepy big boy. So, I'm going to get you ready for bed."
Jackson pouts. Mark digs around his dresser and finally retrieves some lounge pants paired with a tank.
"Arms up!" Jackson complies, unsure why. Mark lifts up his shirt, tickling him under the armpits. Jackson giggles, in spite of his sleepiness. "There's a smile."
Jackson allows him to slip on the tank top. Mark moves down to his pants. Jackson moves as best he can, stepping out of them. Mark helps him into the pajamas.
"Off to bed."
Jackson rubs his eyes. "Nuh uh."
"Yes. You be a good big boy for me."
Jackson finds himself nodding. He is a very good boy, and he's a big boy. At least Mark gets that now.
He's lead to the bed. Mark pulls back the covers. Jackson crawls under them. He reaches beneath his pillow and grabs his old stuffed doggy. Jackson holds it to his chest. Mark smiles down at him, tucking him in. Jackson feels his thumb slowly enter his mouth.
"You get some rest, buddy," Mark whispers, kissing the top of his head.
Jackson gets hit by a scary reality. "You goin' home?"
"Nope. I'll sleep on the couch. You won't be alone."
Jackson nods, sucking on his thumb.
"Night night, Mark," he mumbles.
"Goodnight, buddy."
Coming out of space is always a headache. Literally. Jackson's mind is bogged down between two states. He remembers feeling very young. Kicking his legs and pounding his fists. Whining! Whining is unbecoming of an Avery. So is pouting and sucking your thumb.
Jackson glances down at his pajamas. He was dressed last night. Tickled! Tucked into bed!
By Mark fucking Sloan of all people.
Jackson doesn't get out of bed. He can't. Today's his day off anyway. Yes, he'll hide in here until Mark leaves. Then, he'll figure a way to get rid of him. Well, okay, Derek would never allow that. So, maybe he'll at least manage to get him to keep his mouth shut. His grandfather always says that money can sew up lips nice and tight.
The smell of pancakes drifts back into the bedroom. Jackson ignores the rumble in his stomach.
"Jackson! Breakfast!"
Jackson instinctively hugs his doggy. He remains quiet.
"Jackson, I know you're awake. Get out here and eat."
Silence.
"Do I have to come get you?"
Jackson shakes his head and sticks out his tongue. Footsteps come down the hall. The door opens and Mark stands there, in fresh clothes. Did he go home and change?
"You need to eat."
"What are you doing here?"
"Making you breakfast, genius." He glances at the stuffed animals in his arms. Jackson's cheeks heat up. "Your friend can come too."
Jackson drops the dog. "Last night…"
"We'll discuss it over breakfast. Let's go. Or do I need to carry you?"
Jackson doesn't think Mark will, but he gets out of bed anyway and follows him down to the kitchen. There's pancakes on the table, paired with bacon and sausage. Open packages of fruit are open nearby. Jackson's plate is loaded up with all of it. He slowly sits down.
"Coffee?"
"Nope," Mark says, pushing a glass of milk towards him. "Be honest with me, do you feel little?" Jackson shakes his head. "Good."
"Look, Mark, about last night…"
"Why didn't you tell me you were classified sooner?" Mark asks, putting his hands on his hips. "You know there's accommodations you could get for your boards."
"I don't need them," Jackson dismisses, cutting his pancake. "I passed the MCAT without them."
"That's a mystery."
Jackson rolls his eyes. "Thanks."
"It's just curious is all. How have I not heard about this until now?"
"I don't have to tell you everything."
"No, but these things aren't secret. We all know each other classifications."
"Well, mine isn't public."
"How?"
"Magical things happen when you're an Avery."
Mark frowns. He folds his arms over his chest.
"This is your grandfather's doing?" Jackson nods. "Should've known."
"It's not the end of the world. I rarely drop these days."
"How?" Mark repeats.
"Mark, let's just eat…"
"Avery. Talk."
Jackson sighs. "There's a place you can go…"
"Deprogramming camps."
"They're not bad…"
"They don't work!" Mark snaps. "I mean, clearly."
Jackson narrows his eyes. "That's not fair."
"There have been studies, Jackson. These parts of ourselves cannot be ignored. Littles need to be nurtured, cared for."
"Not when you're an…"
"If I hear the word "Avery" one more time, I will take you out of rotation for a week!"
Jackson knows he doesn't have the power to do so, but doesn't finish his sentence anyway. Mark swallows.
"You shouldn't have been there."
Jackson shrugs, pushing the sausage around his plate. "It's not so bad," he lies.
He thinks of the "therapy sessions". The mantra drilled into his head.
You are a strong man. You are an Avery. You are not a Little. Averys are not Littles.
He doesn't want to think of the beatings.
"That's bull." Mark sounds disgusted. He shakes his head. "Who does that to a kid?"
"I'm not a kid."
"You are. And this ends now."
"Mark…"
"You're moving in with me." Jackson's eyes widen. "You'll move in with me, have a regular routine when you're not working."
"No, this isn't…"
"I'm not done talking," Mark interrupts. "You'll have a study schedule. No more staying up until 3 AM. You'll be in bed by 10:00 every night."
"Mark, you can't do this."
"Oh, it's not optional. You aren't doing this to yourself. Not anymore."
"Why do you care?!"
"I don't know!" Mark snaps. He runs his fingers through his curls. "I just..do, alright?"
Jackson bites his lip. Mark sighs.
"Look, I couldn't help Little Sloan. I tried. I thought I could, but she didn't want my help. I don't think she needed it. She needed her mom."
Jackson's heart hurts. He watched how hard Mark tried with his daughter. She truly never appreciated a bit of it. Jackson would've given anything for a dad that'd try that hard.
But Mark isn't his dad. He doesn't even know where his father is. Robert escaped the Avery name. That's perhaps all Jackson can respect him for. He just wishes it hadn't come at the expense of him.
"But you…you need my help," Mark continues. "And for God knows what reason, I look at you…and I want to help. You need me. So, here I am."
"I don't want your pity," Jackson says. "I've done just fine without a caregiver."
"You've survived, but you don't have to just survive anymore." Mark shakes his head. "Look, I'm not sure how this is going to work, but we can figure it out."
"By me having a bedtime and living with you?"
"It's a step. You need someone to take care of you. I need someone to take care of."
"You decided this fast."
"You're not the only one that can avoid sleep."
Jackson knows this is ridiculous. He's a damn Avery. Averys don't have caregivers.
Mark wants to be his.
Mark fricking Sloan. The king of sarcasm. The womanizer. The dude who slept with his best friend's wife. No one believed he could be a dad.
Now, he's offering to take care of him.
"You're insane," Jackson says.
"So everyone says." Mark grabs a piece of bacon off his plate and takes a bite. "So, what do you say?"
"This needs to stay between us. Only Richard knows about my status."
"Fine by me."
"No acting like a caregiver at the hospital."
"Not publicly," Mark counters.
Jackson accepts the compromise. "And I can leave at any time?"
"I won't hold you prisoner."
Jackson isn't sure why he nods.
"Fine. But if you get tired of this, I won't have hurt feelings. As I said…"
"You're an Avery," Mark deadpans. "You've been fine on your own. And as I said, that's all crap."
Mark stabs a cut up piece of pancake with a fork and holds it up to Jackson's mouth.
"We'll figure out the rest later. For now, eat."
Jackson goes to grab the fork, but Mark swats his hand away. He blushes as he opens his mouth, allowing himself to be fed for the first time in who knows how long.