Chapter Text
"Thomas? Are you even listening to me?"
Alex perched on the side of their bed, watching Thomas stare at the wall while his tapped impatiently. Alex could tell he wanted to hold out long enough from touching his bandages, almost letting himself believe his other arm was still there. Alex had seen him like this enough times to understand how Thomas felt.
There was a big divide, Alexander learned to understand, between studying and living something. Being in the ICU, he was used to the crushed or mangled limbs of many ages, and how the other doctors would shake their heads and reach for the equipment needed to amputate. Alex certainly couldn't forget the required counselling courses he went through in order to deal with the aftermath of this on patients, the sobs or screaming. Worst of all those who just lay in disbelief and refused all food and water in shock. Still, after dealing with a dozen or so of patients, he gradually managed to filter out his emotions from theirs- only thinking of the people he had helped save than the ones he had lost.
But now? It was so hard with Thomas. He had tried so hard, read every piece of advice, but still it didn't wash away how Jefferson would grow complacent and still and ghost his hands along where his limb used to be.
"Thomas, it's alright to talk to me about how you're feeling y'know."
He turned back to Alex, shuffling his knees closer to his chest. Technically he was out of the recovery period, prosthetic lying on the end of the bed and assorted leaflets for counselling groups piled up on the desk.
"If I close my eyes Alex, and stay very still, sometimes I feel like it's still there."
Thomas was quiet, barely above a whisper as he looked up at Alex.
"I know it was the only thing you could do, but I thought I could handle this better. I really did sweetheart-"
His words cut off into a sob, hugging his knees with one arm and clenching his eyes shut. Alex moved up next to Thomas, weaving his fingers inbetween the tangled curls. His breathing softened a little, and nuzzled closer to Alex.
"You're doing better than any medical textbook I've read."
Jefferson laughed a bit, hiccuping and eyes creasing into their familiar shape when he smiled and meant it. Tracing his fingers down his injured arm, Alexander pressed soft kisses to the skin and bandages there, carefully as Thomas gasped at the pressure.
"I love you so much, and nothing's gonna change that. You're being so brave for me."
"I hope I am, I'm trying so hard to be."
Alex reached out and turned Jeffersons face to meet his, letting him lean forward and take the lead. He hummed slightly into the kiss, only a whine of protest when Thomas broke away again.
"Alex when are you going to replace that calendar? It's from last year."
The firefighters calendar sat in the desk opposite the bed, faint black ink from smudged handwriting marring the gloss of the pages.
"Hmm, I don't know. They haven't made a new one so I guess I never bought it." Alex tries to turn his head back, but Thomas is staring intently it. Alex whines again and Jefferson laughs, facing him again.
"Perhaps I should ask them to take some more photos?"
"Yeah but you were in the last one, I think they might not be so keen to replace you with a fire truck Thomas."
"Oh I don't know, I might be willing to help them." He smirks at Alex, the familiar flicker of mischief in his eyes again. That's the Thomas Alex can help, not the one who turns glassy eyed and placid. He can tell that he's hurting behind that bright smile, but it's promising to him like this.
"Only if I can choose the outfit. Only then."
"What do you mean, was there a problem with last years?" Thomas grins with a knowing satisfaction as Alex recalls the frankly horrifying (and very attractive) photo from last year.
"You know exactly what the problem was. Do we have a deal?"
A flash of doubt passes over him, but just like that it passes.
"Sure thing darling."
--
Alex smiled as he unwrapped the newly printed calendar, peeling of the price sticker from the corner. The fire brigade had held a little fundraising sale for it, selling hot cocoa and Christmas decorations for charity. Oh and the bucket fund for the calendar that filled up almost instantly.
He flipped the pages, fast forwarding though the months of February, May, July and October in a heartbeat. And then its December, the still badly photoshopped holly and snowflakes cluttering the page. Thomas is standing, smiling at the camera like he has nothing to lose. It's a little less indecent this year, Alex being very specific with the outfit until Thomas just sighed and let him drag him around to whatever fitting he apparently "needed". It was worth it though, the dark red suit with white collar and cuffs pairing perfectly with the mistletoe in his hair. The sleeve was rolled up in one arm, letting the metal of the prosthetic show, and Alexander was proud.
He really didn't hate Christmas.