Chapter Text
Joey can’t sleep.
That’s nothing really unusual for him. He’d long been told that, even as a baby, he never slept, always wide awake and staring around him like he was afraid to miss something. But this is a different type of insomnia, and he knows exactly why it’s happening.
He and Sophie had never intended for their parents to find out about their special talents. They’d made a pact when they first started doing weird things months ago, that they would never ever tell anyone else about them. Mom and Dad were so boring, how could they ever understand something like this?
All right, as moms go, Joey knows, his Mom is pretty cool and once got kicked out of one of his hockey games for cheering too exuberantly for them, which got him all sorts of cred with his teammates. And yeah, Dad was able to get him copies of his favorite comic books signed by the authors and artists, which was awesome.
But still. They’re his parents. And by that fact alone they are automatically uncool and boring. And having special abilities is definitely NOT boring.
(Okay, maybe he had slipped up once in front of Dani and set something on fire without meaning it, but Dani’s good at keeping secrets and hasn’t breathed word one about what happened to anyone else.)
Joey grumbles to himself, tossing his head on the pillows and staring at the glowing green numbers of the clock on his nightstand, reading out 2:42 a.m. in its steady fashion. He should at least try to sleep; he’s got a quiz in his first class tomorrow and he knows he’ll bomb it if he falls asleep on top of the paper. That and he’ll really get it from his mom afterwards - one of the perils of having a teacher for a parent.
Frankie whuffles quietly next to him, nudging a wet nose against his hand as if she’s trying to tell him to go back to sleep. He scratches at her neck slowly as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will sleep to come.
It’s not happening.
He slips carefully out of bed, determined not to disturb Frankie. Maybe some water will help him sleep, and he’ll grab his cellphone from the kitchen too. Mom always stashes them in the drawer downstairs at night in the attempt to keep him from texting at all hours of the day, but these are extenuating circumstances. And a few games may help him fall back asleep too.
The stairs creak slightly as he walks down them, but that’s a given with this old house. Something’s always cracking or creaking or making a noise that sounds like a ghost, but is really just the wind in the attic. Which makes it that much easier for Joey to sneak out to get his phone, he knows. He isn’t counting on Uncle Jimmy, however, poking his head out of the guest bedroom at the base of the stairs just as Joey hits the main floor. “Everything all right?” he asks Joey quietly.
Joey freezes in his tracks and spins slowly to look at his uncle. Instead of the accusatory look he’s expecting, however, Uncle Jimmy just looks concerned. Joey nods and says, “Can’t sleep. Gonna get some water.”
Uncle Jimmy nods, looking over at him with concern. “You sure you’re all right?” he persists.
Joey opens his mouth, ready to nod and escape to the kitchen to jailbreak his phone, but then he snaps his mouth closed with a nearly audible click. He looks down at the floor, scuffs a toe along the stone tiles of the main hallway. A heavy, warm hand lands on his shoulder, and he looks up to see Uncle Jimmy’s face staring down at him with concern. “Come on, kiddo, get in here,” he says.
He ushers Joey over to the armchair in one corner of the room and sits him down. Then, Uncle Jimmy pulls a blanket off the end of the bed and wraps it around the boy. Joey tugs the blanket more tightly around him; there’s something comforting about being bundled up that much. Uncle Jimmy sits down on the bed and clasps his hands in front of him, propping his arms up on his knees. He strokes the knuckles of his left hand carefully, the latex of his prosthetic looking entirely unlike skin in the dim light. In the daytime the arm would pass as flesh and blood as long as someone’s not staring too hard at it, but maybe things are just different at night, Joey thinks. “So let me guess - this not sleeping thing started about the same time as your parents found out about your special abilities?” he says, giving Joey a knowing look that even in the dim light of the bedroom is apparent.
“Do you think they hate me for it?” Joey whispers, looking down at his bare feet, curling into the throw rug.
“No.”
The answer is quick, and strong, making Joey’s eyes dart up at Uncle Jimmy. “Really? Are you sure?”
Uncle Jimmy smirks a bit. “Kiddo, you could kill a person and your parents would still love you. The only thing that may put them off a bit is if you start cheering for the Yankees, and that’s only your dad, anyway.”
“What if I burn the house down? Or if I hurt them because of the...thing?” Because that’s the fear, Joey knows. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody, not unless there’s a really, really good reason for it, and what if he accidentally hurts his parents? Or his siblings? Or one of his friends? He hasn’t had these abilities for all that long, not really, and he’s spent so much time hiding them and tamping them down so that they don’t get caught, that he doesn’t really know how to use them. Which then leads to things like the menorah or the stove going up in flames.
Uncle Jimmy doesn’t need to know all of that just yet though. Not until he talks to Sophie about it, at least. The whole keeping things secret was a joint decision, and if Ben hadn’t decided to start his little floating thing in front of Mom and Dad, they’d still be keeping the secret.
“Then your parents get everyone out of the house and you find a new place to live. It’s just a building. As long as everyone’s okay, it won’t matter.” Uncle Jimmy gives him another look, one that’s intense enough that it makes Joey squirm in his seat and tug the blanket tighter around him. “Your parents love you and your sister and your brother more than anything in the world. And nothing you do will ever change that.”
“Even if people start to get mean about it? Because there are a lot of jerks out there who don’t like people who can do weird things.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I have a laptop and a phone; it’s not hard to read the news.”
Uncle Jimmy rubs his forehead, grumbling something under his breath about technology that Joey can’t quite make out. “First of all, anyone says anything to you that’s out of line I can guarantee that your parents will be right behind you ready to throw the first punch, and I’ll be bringing up the rear.”
Joey nods, plucking at the blanket. “Yeah, dad doesn’t really like bullies.”
“Kiddo, you have no idea how much,” Uncle Jimmy mutters. “And second, I think you should talk to your parents about this, because you’re not going to find anyone who’s going to support you more than them. They’ve seen things that are a lot weirder than you think.”
“Mom said she was stuck in Norway when the aliens attacked New York and just watched the whole thing on TV. That’s not that weird.”
“So watching an alien invasion on TV isn’t weird to you, but being able to set things on fire is,” Uncle Jimmy says, his hand reaching for his forehead once more.
Joey just shrugs.
“Seriously, Joey. Talk to them. I ain’t saying it’s going to be easy, but I think that they just may surprise you.”
He glances out the window as he twists his hands in the blanket, wanting to unravel the threads and tangle his hands in them instead of talking to anyone. “Can I think about it?” Joey asks.
“Course you can. But the sooner you talk to them, the better you’ll feel,” Uncle Jimmy says, grinning once more at him.
“You don’t know that for sure.”
Uncle Jimmy shoots him a mock glare and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes I do. I’m old, and I’ve known your dad a lot longer than you have. So trust me when I say that they won’t be mad, and that they’ll be grateful you decided to talk to them.” Uncle Jimmy sighs, then looks over at the clock. “You think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asks. “I know you’ve got school in the morning.”
That statement gets the biggest frown of the whole night, and Joey nods miserably. “I just want vacation to start.”
“One more week. You can definitely do that.” He stands up, and goes to the door, holding it open for Joey. Joey wraps the blanket tighter around himself, and makes his way over. Before he leaves, Uncle Jimmy claps a hand on the back of his neck. “You’re stronger than you think,” he tells Joey in a quiet, strident voice. “Don’t forget that.”
“Okay. Good night, Uncle Jimmy.”
“Night, Joey.”
Joey heads back to his room, tiptoeing on light feet. When he gets there Frankie’s sprawled out on the bed, having moved into the warm spot he left behind. But the dog’s a little furnace in her own right, and Joey curls up next to her, in the space between dog and wall, and feels a nice little warmth seep into his bones.
And then, much to his surprise, he falls asleep easily and calmly, without any trouble at all.
**********
The gentle shaking of his shoulder rouses Joey out of his deep sleep, and he blinks bleary eyes open to find his dad staring down at him. “Mom’s leaving for school in fifteen minutes,” Dad says quietly. “Do you think you could be ready in time?”
Joey sits up straight at that and all but rolls out of bed. If he doesn’t catch a ride to school with his mom it means he has to take the bus, which is just...no. Not after the incident on his bus route that had ended with the bus monitor angry enough to burst a blood vessel and half the kids in detention (thankfully, Joey wasn’t one of them). He blows past his dad, running for the bathroom at full speed to start washing up.
When Joey gets downstairs, dressed and with his backpack slung over his shoulder (though he’s given up on taming the hair, leaving the light brown thatch to fly in all directions), he’s not the only person running around not exactly prepared for the day. Mom’s there tearing around the kitchen, shoving a stack of graded papers into her bag with one hand as she brushes her teeth with the other. She lets loose an unintelligible noise when she spots him, and leans over to spit out a mouthful of toothpaste into the kitchen sink. “You ready to go?” she asks, dropping the toothbrush on the counter and shoving some unruly hair out of her face.
“Just need shoes,” Joey says, nodding.
“Steve!” Mom hollers, pushing her arms into a fuzzy, oversized cardigan. “Can you get Joey’s sneakers?”
“Yeah,” Dad calls back from another room, loud enough to carry through most of the house, making Joey hope that Ben’s already awake because if he starts howling it’ll take him forever to stop.
Mom turns back to him. “We’ll stop at Dunkies for breakfast, and I’ll give you money for lunch. Sound good?”
“Works for me.”
Dad comes into the room, shoes in one hand and Joey’s jacket in the other. “Here you go,” he says, handing them over.
“My hero,” Mom says, going over to give him a kiss as Joey hastily gets into his outerwear. “You and Jimmy going to be okay to get Soph off to school?”
“ Yes . Now get going, otherwise you’re going to be late.” Dad grins down at her. “We’ll even get dinner started for you tonight too.”
Joey grimaces, and the look is mirrored on his mother’s face. When Dad and Uncle Jimmy got together to cook, things had a tendency to be over-boiled in a very bad way.
“I’ll stop at the ATM and get money for pizza.”
“Ha ha,” Dad says. “We’ve got a new recipe to try; I promise it’ll be good.”
“If you say so.” Mom shakes her head, and kisses him once more. “Okay, running now, and we’ll see you tonight.”
“Later, Dad!” Joey says, just as Mom hustles him out to the garage and into the car.
It’s only once they’re in the car, trundling down the wooded roads, that Joey realizes that his mother was just as prepared as he was this morning. “I guess I’m not the only one who overslept?” he asks.
“Nope,” Mom says cheerfully, shooting him a grin and a sidelong look. “You and me, we’re two of a kind.”
“Poor Dad,” Joey replies, which sets Mom off in a state of giggles that lasts the rest of the drive.