Chase Atlantic agere oneshots

Brothers

This is entirely platonic!!!
Tw! Mentions of self harm

Little Clinton (bub, bubba, Clint, little one, honey)

Cg Mitchel (Mitty, bubby)

Clinton Pov

I woke up knowing I was in headspace. Mitchel had gotten me to slip last night after an anxiety attack, and sleep apparently didn't help it. I let out a small whine. Mitchel came to my doorway not long after, and I knew he must've turned on the baby monitor he bought a while back. He used it to make sure if anything happened during the early hours of the morning, he would know. Whether it be me having an accident, having a nightmare, or just needing some company, Mitchel wanted to know about it. Occasionally, he'd catch me playing past bedtime with the monitor. He would come to the doorway and stand with his arms crossed until I noticed him, then he'd tell me it was time for bed. If he caught me playing again, he'd read me a story or sing to lull me to sleep. Mitchel took a look at me, then came over and hugged me. "Hey, Clint. How are you?" He asked. "Hungy," I told him. "Yeah? Let's go get some food in your belly. What sounds good?" He asked. "Toast n peanut butter wiff appy juice?" I requested. "Yeah, bubba. We can do that. Do you want a bottle or a sippy for your juice?" Mitchel questioned. "Uhhhh. Dunno," I said with a shrug. "We'll get you a bottle, okay?" I nodded. Mitchel kissed my forehead. "Do you need changed? I can get Christian out of bed if you do," Mitchel offered. I never let Mitchel change me. I thought it was weird since he was my brother. I nodded my head. Mitchel left, and a moment later, Christian appeared. "Good morning, bub," Christian told me, heading over to my drawer and grabbing a diaper. "Mornin," I told him, letting out a yawn. Christian went through the process of getting me changed, then helped me sit up again. "Whenever you're ready to go down, honey," he told me. I nodded, getting up and following Christian downstairs. Mitchel had my toast and bottle sat at the table. "After this, Christian is gonna help you get a bath, okay?" Mitchel told me. I gave him a pout as soon as the word bath left his mouth. "Mm-mm," I protested. "Clinton, you've gotta keep clean. Would you rather me do it? Cuz if you won't let Christian, I'll do it myself," Mitchel challenged. "Mittyyyy," I whined. "I know you hate it. But you don't even have to wash your hair today. Just wash off your body, okay?" He bargained. I shook my head. Mitchel frowned. "Clint, what's going on with you? You had a panic attack for what seemed like no reason last night, you've been acting off these past few weeks, and now you won't even keep clean. I know there's something going on," Mitchel explained. I shook my head, putting a piece of my toast in my mouth to dismiss Mitchel. I didn't want Christian or Mitchel to the fresh marks on my arms. They hadn't noticed what had happened, and I wasn't about to draw their attention to it. Once I had finished my toast, I started on my bottle. I felt guilty keeping all of this from Mitchel and Christian. We were all so close. We told each other everything. Yet here I was, keeping secrets. After my bottle was gone, Christian picked me up. I squirmed a lot, trying to keep him from taking me to the bath. He pinched my thigh, continuing his walk to the bathroom. Christian sat me down on the toilet seat, giving me a minute. Mitchel had followed us. Christian held my hands. At first, I thought he was trying to reassure me. But then, Mitchel's hands raised up my sleeves. I started crying and trying to pull my hands out of Christian's grip, but it was no use. They'd already seen. I burst into sobs. Mitchel crouched down to my level. "Clinton, I'm only going to ask you this once; what happened?" I shook my head. Mitchel sighed. "C'mon. We're gonna go lay you in bed until you're ready to talk and take your bath," he ordered. "Mitty," I sobbed. Mitchel took my hands in his. "I have to keep you safe, Clint. I can't do that if I don't know the reasons you're being unsafe," he explained. I just hugged him, hiding my face in his shoulder to muffle my sobs. Christian was playing with my hair while Mitchel rubbed my back. "I just felt so anxious," I admitted. "That's the only reason? You were just overwhelmed?" Mitchel asked, seeming as if he didn't believe me. I nodded. Mitchel put his pinky out. I linked mine with his, to assure him I was telling the truth. Mitchel nodded. "Let's hold off on that bath for a while, yeah? You need some time to cuddle with Kras. Maybe that'll help you feel better. If you want, we can call Jesse?" Mitchel offered. I shook my head. I didn't want Jesse to know. Mitchel nodded in understanding. Christian picked me up, taking me to his room. He sat me down on his bed, going to the other side. "I know our feelings can get so overwhelming, Clint. But please don't hurt yourself ever again. I can't stand to watch you hurt like this," Christian told me, pulling my head to rest on his chest. I wrapped my arms around him, nodding my head. "You can always come to any of us, Clinton. Me, Jesse, Pat, Mitchel. We'll never judge you. We love you, and we'd do anything to make you feel better. I promise it'll get better. It doesn't stay bad forever. You're gonna be okay," Christian lectured. "I pomise I come ta you or Mitty nes time," I agreed. Christian kissed my forehead. "Good. How about we watch some Wow Wow Wubbzy?" Christian asked. I was quick to nod excitedly. Christian turned on the show, allowing me to fall back to sleep on his chest.

1003 words