First Published: April 16th 2017

Pairing: none

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 509

Warnings: some panic

Summary: Three times Anxiety denied facts and one time he didn't.

-

Morality held up a spoonful of chicken soup. "Open wide!" he said.

Anxiety scowled from under his blankets and a pile of tissues. "I can take care of myself," he insisted. Or tried to, but was cut off by a sudden coughing fit.

"Aw, of course you can, kiddo!" Morality cooed, but didn't put down the spoon. Anxiety grumbled under his breath but opened his mouth anyway, letting Morality spoon-feed him. He denied this later.

-

They were helping with a video when a harsh comment was made.

"Why is he here?" Roman complained after Anxiety put down another idea. He had probably meant it jokingly, but Anxiety's shit-eating grin fell and he ducked his head down, hiding his face.

Morality noticed and jumped in to defend Anxiety. "Well, for starters, he does point out when we're being a bit too... unrealistic. There's nothing wrong with thinking outside the box, but it's always good to not set ourselves up for disappointment."

Anxiety mouthed a "thank you". When he was asked about it later, he denied saying anything of the sorts.

-

When the first crack of thunder sounded, hardly anyone thought anything of – except for Morality, whose head snapped up from his book. Prince and Logic were lounging around in the commons, complaining about the rainy weather but otherwise undisturbed by it.

Morality, however, immediately sprinted around the mindscape, searching and searching. He checked Anxiety's room, but the younger side wasn't there.

Eventually, he found him cowering in the kitchen, glass smashed on the floor and covering his ears.

Morality stepped over the shards carefully. "Kiddo, it's just thunder, nothing can hurt you here, I promise," he soothed, gently pulling Anxiety's hands away from his head. He continued with words of encouragement, and soon Anxiety was able to breathe and shakily explain that he was "just trying to get a drink of water and then dropped it".

He denied his fear of storms later.

-

Anxiety's thoughts were too loud today. He tried to ignore them, tried to reinforce his smirk when the others were around, but Morality saw through it.

"C'mon, kiddo, open your door and let your pop come in," he called, standing outside Anxiety's door. When he got no answer, he sighed. "I'm coming in."

He poked his head inside the room. "You awake?"

"...No," Anxiety murmured, face down on his bed, head covered with a pillow.

Morality tutted. "You're supposed to tell me when you don't feel well." He walked over and sat on the edge of Anxiety's bed.

"I'm not sick."

"I didn't mean just physically well. You should know that by now."

Anxiety shrugged and took the pillow off his head. "I'm sorry..."

"No, don't apologise!" Morality exclaimed, pulling Anxiety up into a hug. "It's not your fault for feeling bad."

"I know, I do, but-" Anxiety burst into tears, all his pent-up emotions finally escaping in the safety of Morality's arms.

When he calmed down enough, he whispered into Morality's shirt, "You're the best dad." Morality smiled.

Anxiety never denied that statement.