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Harry snapped awake with a shout when he felt something brush the side of his face. He jerked upright and scrambled backwards, away from– from–
Thunder rumbled. He heard a tiny, choked-off sob.
“CJ?” he asked, panting.
Lightning flashed, illuminating her wide-eyed, tear-streaked face. “I didn't mean to–” She winced when another roll of thunder shook the windows. She was holding her shark but only with one hand, dangling at her side like she was embarrassed to have it with her. Harry had slept with the thing until he was in his twenties, but CJ at eleven was determined not to need it anymore, declaring that being in the double digits made her too mature for stuffed animals. Something had to have upset her if she was carrying it around. “Sorry, sorry, it's stupid, I just… Can I sleep with you?”
“Yeah, sure, duck,” he said, patting the bed next to him. She clambered up immediately and snuggled close to his side, and he pretended the contact didn't make him twitch. “Did the storm wake you up?”
She shook her head. “I had a nightmare. It was stupid.”
Harry's heart pounded as he tried to untangle his thoughts, wrapping his arm around CJ and patting her shoulder with a shaking hand. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. That, uh, that's no fun.”
“And then it's so loud,” CJ said with a sniffle. “And I couldn't fall back asleep.”
They both jumped at the next crack of thunder. “Yeah,” Harry said hoarsely. “I get that.”
“Did I wake you up?” CJ asked. “I wasn't– I didn't mean to.”
“I’d have been up soon anyway,” Harry said honestly. “I wasn't sleeping too well, either.”
CJ pressed closer, plastered against his side. “Were you having a nightmare, too?” she asked. “Because, um, you kind of yelled. When I woke you up.”
Harry sighed and dropped his head back against the headboard with a soft thunk. “Yeah. Guess it's going around, huh?”
CJ hummed and made herself more comfortable against him. It was a conscious effort to keep himself still; he wanted nothing so much as to get up and move, whether to wander through the house or grab a sketchbook or do anything other than stay sitting in bed while his skin was still itching with adrenaline.
“I'm sorry you had a bad dream,” CJ said, sounding more awake now. Damn it, Harry had been hoping she would fall back asleep so he could go take a shower, at least.
“I'm sorry you had one, too,” he said. “You wanna talk about it?”
“You know in that movie, where they make her dream about a dog getting ripped in half?”
Harry blinked. “What the hell kind of movies are you watching?”
CJ huffed and loosened her grip on her shark so she could smack it against his leg. “That cartoon one about feelings.”
“What, Inside Out? When do they rip a dog in half in that?” he asked, baffled and a little horrified. CJ smacked him again, harder.
“They don't. It's a dream, and it was just a cartoon so it wasn't gross. But then I, um.” Her voice hitched. “I had a dream that it was Dude. And Uncle Carlos was crying.”
Harry winced. “That bites.”
CJ sniffled again. “Yeah. It super does.” There was another flash of lightning, and they were both quiet for a few seconds while they waited for the next crack of thunder. When it was over, CJ let out a shuddering sigh and slumped over against him. “What did you dream about?”
Fuck, Harry mouthed at the ceiling. “Uh, nothing like that,” he said out loud. “I just dreamed something was chasing me. Dunno what.”
“Probably a monster,” CJ said, perfectly matter-of-fact even around a yawn. “If it was chasing you in a dream.”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Probably a monster.”
God, he needed to get up.
“Hey, you want some pancakes?” he asked. CJ looked up at him, blinking wide eyes.
“Like, right now?”
“Well, yeah,” Harry said. “I'm not taking preorders for breakfast. What do you say to a midnight IHOP run?”
“Like right now,” CJ repeated, but her confused frown was rapidly turning into a grin. “In our pajamas?”
Harry had planned to at least change into a pair of jeans before they left, but CJ looked delighted at the thought of going out in their sleep clothes. He could stand to be seen in flannel pants if it meant distracting her from a Pixar-induced nightmare.
“What else would we wear?” he asked. “It's the middle of the night. Of course we'll be in our pajamas.”
CJ squeaked and scrambled out of bed, accidentally elbowing Harry in the process. He grunted, but climbed out after her as she all but sprinted to the door.
“Shoes, duck,” he reminded her when she reached for the doorknob, and she laughed giddily and tugged on her tennis shoes. He smiled helplessly at her excitement as he stepped into his own shoes and grabbed his keys from where they were hanging by the door.
“Can we take the bike?” CJ asked. “Please?”
“Not this time,” he said. “I'm not driving around in the dark when it's raining and we're in our pajamas. We'll go for a ride this weekend, how's that?” CJ shrugged, still too excited about pancakes to be disappointed. “Speaking of: jacket.”
“Jackets aren't pajamas,” CJ protested, only to wince when the living room was illuminated by another flash of lightning. Thunder followed a few seconds later, soft enough that it had to be a few miles away, but loud enough to drive home the point that it was still pouring rain. Harry helped her into the coat hanging by the door, slipped into his own, and then pelted through the rain and into the car. CJ was nearly shrieking with laughter as she scrambled into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her, and Harry grinned at her, shaking his wet hair like a dog just to make her laugh harder.
“An adventure already,” he said cheerfully.
“It's the middle of the night,” CJ said. She sounded awed. “And we're getting pancakes.”
Harry couldn't help his wince when he turned the key and saw the clock blink on. “It's actually almost four,” he said. “So… basically morning already. Pancakes are a breakfast food, this is perfectly normal.”
The IHOP was only a few minutes away, but by the time they got there he could feel the knot of tension in his chest loosening. Today wasn't going to be good, not when he could still feel the nightmare hovering around the edges of his mind, but early morning pancakes with his daughter certainly helped.
They ran from the car to the door of the restaurant, hands over their heads like it would make an ounce of difference. It set CJ off laughing again, which set Harry off, and they stood in the foyer giggling breathlessly for a few minutes and dripping all over the floor. The hostess showed up a moment later, eyeing their wet pajamas and wide grins but greeting them and leading them to a table without comment.
“Sorry for dripping on the floor,” CJ said politely as she sat down. “We wanted pancakes.”
“Well, you came to the right place,” the girl said, smiling a little. “Can I get you two started with some drinks?”
“Coffee,” Harry and CJ said at the same time, and Harry frowned at her.
“You're short enough already, don't you think?”
“Rude,” CJ huffed. “Coffee doesn't actually stunt your growth, anyways. That's a myth.”
“Still a no,” Harry said. “Not at three in the morning. You can have a little of mine if you want, but you're not drinking a whole cup this early.”
CJ narrowed her eyes. “Can I make a cup in the morning? Like, the actual morning, not now.”
Harry mulled it over. “Decaf,” he said. “Small cup, and only after you've slept another few hours.”
“Deal.” They shook hands across the table, then CJ turned back to the hostess and said, “Actually, can I have an orange juice instead?”
The hostess was grinning outright now. “Sure,” she said. “I'll be right back with those, and your waiter will be with you soon.”
“Thank you!” CJ chirped, then bent studiously over her menu as though she hadn't gotten the same meal at every IHOP they'd ever been to since she was old enough to order off the adult menu. Harry looked down at his own menu to hide his smile, skimming down the list of seasonal flavors.
“What looks good, duck?” he asked.
“It's breakfast food,” CJ said. “It's all good. But I want the breakfast sampler with all sausage and scrambled eggs. Can I get a milkshake?”
“Sure, if you're willing to forfeit your coffee later,” Harry said, and CJ let out a forlorn sigh.
“You're no fun.”
“We're at a diner in our pajamas in the middle of the night,” Harry said. “That's loads of fun. Buckets.”
The plastic menu creaked as he tightened his grip on it without meaning to. It was fun in a ridiculous sort of way, and CJ had clearly recovered from her nightmare, but he couldn't forget the whole reason they were out so early.
“Are you okay?”
CJ’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced up to see her watching him carefully. “Yeah, of course. Why?”
She bit her lip. “I don't know. You just seem, uh.” She shrugged. “Not okay? Are you still upset about your dream?”
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. Honesty, he thought. Transparency. Setting an example. “Not really,” he said finally. “You know I have a hard time sleeping sometimes, but this wasn't like that. I'm just stressed, and I think my brain decided to run with it.”
“What are you stressed about?” CJ asked. “Break it down for me. We'll make it into smaller pieces.”
That brought a reluctant smile to Harry's face, hearing his own familiar suggestion parroted back at him. He'd been saying it to her since she was little, and like most everything else he did, she had started to copy him.
“This isn't one that can be broken down that easy, duckling,” he said. “It's a little too big for that.”
Their waiter appeared then, bringing over their drinks and taking their orders. CJ watched quietly as Harry handed off their menus and doctored his coffee, waiting until the waiter was across the room and Harry had taken his first sip before she asked softly, “Is this because of whatever Phil called you about yesterday?”
Harry pressed his lips together for a moment before he could answer. “Yeah. It's about that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Harry admitted. “I don't know if you've noticed this, though, but ignoring things from Phil doesn't tend to go well for me.”
CJ snorted. “Wow, really?”
“Wow, really?” Harry repeated. “I'm baring my heart here, kid. Let's knock off with the sarcasm, okay?”
CJ had the decency to look contrite. “Okay, you're right. What's up?”
Harry took a deep breath. “Okay, so we found out on Monday that I– well, guess what? You've got uncles.”
CJ bit her lip. “Um.”
“Um?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows, and CJ wiggled in her seat.
“It's just– I know you just said that no sarcasm, but we had dinner with them like three days ago.”
“Oh, yeah, no, not Gil and company,” Harry said, shaking his head quickly. “That was dumb of me, I wasn't thinking. I meant actual uncles. Turns out Harriet and I have brothers.”
CJ’s jaw dropped. “You what? Since when?”
“Since eighteen years ago, apparently,” Harry said. “I guess my mum got remarried at some point, had a couple more kids. They just turned eighteen, so they decided to reach out now that they're adults.”
CJ squinted at him, clearly doing some math in her head. “Wait, so that means you're…”
Harry huffed out a near-silent laugh as CJ trailed off, looking baffled. “I would have been sixteen when they were born. Harriet was twenty.”
CJ’s eyes widened comically. “They're closer to my age!”
“Yeah, they are,” Harry said. “I didn't mention it when we talked about her, huh? Skye was pretty young when she had Harriet. Like, seventeen, I think? Maybe eighteen.”
“Her name is Skye?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she say anything to you? Or just your brothers?”
Harry cleared his throat, unexpectedly choked up, before he said, “She passed away, actually. A few years ago, they said.”
“Oh.” CJ fidgeted in her seat. “I'm sorry?”
“Thanks,” Harry said. “Me too.”
CJ clearly wanted to give him a moment, but he could see her nearly trembling with curiosity. “Can I. Um. Do you have. Can I ask some questions?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, smiling even as he braced himself. “Ask away, duckling. It's okay.”
“What are their names?”
“Luke and Chris Smee.”
“They're both eighteen? Are they twins?”
“Yeah.”
“Where do they live?”
“Edinburgh.”
“Did they call you?”
“They emailed Phil. He called me and forwarded it to me and Harriet.”
“Have you emailed them back?”
“Not yet.”
“Has Aunt Hattie?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Are you going to?”
Harry licked his lips. “I dunno.”
“How come?” CJ’s eyes were huge. “I would be so totally excited to get little brothers! Not that you and Uma have to have kids just for that,” she added quickly.
“Oh, thanks,” Harry snorted. “I appreciate it.”
“But don't you want to meet them?”
Harry grimaced, twisting his coffee cup back and forth. “That's kind of tricky, CJ. I’ve been talking it over a lot with Harriet, what we want to do about it. It's… not exactly easy.”
CJ reached across the table to give the back of his right hand a comforting pat. “Because of… your mom?” she asked carefully. “Because she left you, and had them?”
“You are terrifyingly perceptive,” Harry said dryly. “Yeah, that's exactly why. While Harriet and I were– well.” He cut himself off with a grimace. CJ knew the bare bones of his and Harriet’s upbringing, but he didn't want to discuss details more than he needed to. “While we were… getting hurt, she was getting remarried and having kids. It sounds like she was a really good mum to them.”
“She should have been a good mom to you,” CJ huffed. “It's not fair that she used you and Aunt Hattie like practice.”
“Jesus,” Harry muttered, mostly under his breath, but he turned his hand over so he could give CJ’s a quick squeeze before picking up his coffee cup again. “But yeah, that's the basics of it. We know it's not the boys’ fault, what happened to us, but it's tough to look at them and not… I don't know, be jealous. Mad, even.”
“You're a famous tattoo artist and you hang out with celebrities all the time and you have a really cool daughter,” CJ said matter-of-factly. “They should be jealous of you.”
Harry smiled, tired but honest in the face of CJ’s clumsy comfort. “Maybe. I'll keep that in mind.”
“Does anyone else know?” CJ asked.
“Uma does,” Harry said. “So do your mum and Mal. I'm assuming Harriet told Anthony already, and I was gonna bring it up with Dr. Dawson tomorrow. Well, today. That's all for now.”
“Okay,” CJ said. “So I guess probably I shouldn't tell Frankie or Zevon, huh?”
“I'd appreciate it if you didn't,” Harry said. “We're lucky they reached out before anyone in the press caught wind of this. God knows I don't need one more thing about my personal life in the tabloids.”
“I'll keep it a secret,” CJ promised. “But I mean. At least this is kind of a good thing, right? This isn't like your dad or the meds or the, um. The hand stuff. This is like a cool family reunion!”
“Yeah, it kind of is,” Harry said reluctantly. “But there's a lot of times that we disagree with the press on what parts of my life are cool or not.”
CJ scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Screw the press. I like your tattoos, and your earrings, and you're a good dad, and it's cool that you have brothers and you can meet them if you want to but only if you want to and you if you don't want to I understand because you're allowed to not want to.”
Harry blinked, trying to parse through the barrage of words. “Thanks, duck.”
“Would I have to call them Uncle Chris and Uncle Luke?” CJ wondered, and Harry snorted out a surprised laugh.
“I doubt it. They're still just teenagers, and they're also only your uncles by the barest technicality.”
“I guess,” CJ said, then her eyes went wide. “Wait, yeah, you're right, cause I'm not even related to all my other uncles! Not even Anthony!”
“We've got a very big, very weird family,” Harry agreed. “You can just call them Chris and Luke, if you meet them.”
“When did they find out about you?” CJ asked. “Was it a surprise?”
“I think the email said it was a few years ago,” Harry said, like he hadn't memorized every word of it. “They said they were fourteen or fifteen.”
“Oh, so before the Post,” CJ said. Harry could almost hear the capital letter click into place; CJ had built up a strange reverence around the Twitter post that revealed her existence to the world. He guessed he couldn't blame her, considering how cleanly it had split her life into before and after. “But they waited till now?”
“Well, they were still just kids,” Harry pointed out. “And I was a good bit harder to track down before then, if they had tried. Plus, uh, apparently Skye told them while she was in the hospital. Sort of a…” He grimaced. “A deathbed confession?”
“Your life is a soap opera,” CJ said, sounding awed. “Secret brothers in another country. Deathbed confessions. Is one of them evil?”
“I honestly wouldn't be surprised, but they seemed nice enough in the message,” Harry said. “They sent along some videos too, and a few pictures.”
“Can I see them?” CJ asked, suddenly shy. “If you don't mind?”
“Yeah, baby, of course,” Harry said, softening as he reached into his pants pocket and to out his cellphone. It took him only a moment to find it; he had bookmarked it as soon as Phil forwarded it to him, and it was the last message he had looked at before he fell asleep, just as he had the last three nights in a row. He hadn't been sleeping well lately.
He scrolled past the actual body of the message down to the attached images at the bottom, tapping on one that was looked to be a relatively recent selfie of the twins: two young men with shoulder length, white-blond hair, bright grins, and blue eyes.
Harry's eyes. Harriet's smile. Harry guessed they got those from their mother.
If he squinted, he could even see a bit of CJ in them.
CJ’s own blond hair fell in her face as she bent over the phone when he slid it across the table, expression thoughtful. “They look friendly,” she said.
“Yeah, they do,” Harry said, smiling despite himself. “They sounded nice, in the email and the video.”
“Do you think I'll need glasses like that one day? Theirs are cool.”
“I mean, maybe,” Harry said. “Audrey and I don't need glasses, but Harriet does, and I guess so do Luke and Chris.”
“Hm.”
CJ swiped her finger across the screen, examining a few of the other pictures, until she got to the one at the end. “Oh,” she said softly, and Harry held his breath. “Is that your– Skye?”
Harry knew which picture she was looking at: the boys at twelve years old, sitting on a sofa between a man who was clearly their father and a woman Harry hadn't seen since he was a toddler. A perfect, happy family.
“Yeah,” he said. “That's her.”
“She looks like Aunt Hattie,” CJ said. “They have the same smile, don't you think?”
“Yeah, I thought the same thing,” Harry said. “Kind of funny, isn't it?”
“Kinda weird, too,” CJ said. “Did they say, like. Why?”
“Chris said they've been wanting to since they found out,” Harry said, accepting his phone back when CJ handed it to him. “But their dad said they should wait until they were older, especially once things around us blew up so much. They didn't want to get lost in the noise, or for me and Hattie to think they were making it up.”
“They're not, right?” CJ asked. “This is really real?”
“It's really real,” Harry confirmed. “Phil hired someone to look into them, and Mal did a little digging for me, too. They've either got CIA-level skills or they're telling the truth. Plus, I mean, like you said. There's one hell of a family resemblance.”
CJ, for once in her life, did not demand he add anything to the swear jar when they got home. Harry wasn't sure if she was distracted or taking pity on him.
“Do you want to know what I think?” CJ asked, and Harry smiled again.
“Yeah, duck,” he said sincerely. “I do.”
“I think it would be cool to meet them,” CJ said. “But I don't think you have to be brothers with them if you don't want.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah,” CJ said with a decisive nod. “Like you said, I've already got uncles. So that means you've already got brothers. And I think this is really cool! And it would be fun to meet them. But I don't think you're, like, missing anything, you know? I like our big, weird family, and I like if this is as big as we get, but maybe we can fit them, too?”
She lost some steam at the end, trailing off into an uncertain question at whatever she saw on Harry's face. Harry swallowed, unable to answer for a few seconds, then nodded.
“I think that's a good point, duckling,” he said roughly. “Maybe it's not a bad idea.”
There were other considerations, of course. Like it or not, Harry had become a household name over the last three years, and they couldn't ignore the risk Luke and Chris unknowingly posed. Phil had already outlined a dozen potential plans for ways to handle this, everything from non-disclosure agreements and restraining orders to press releases and televised first meetings. Harry and Harriet had had some choice words about both suggestions.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by their waiter returning, bringing plates of pancakes and eggs with her, and Harry was saved from having to talk for a while as they ate their absurdly early breakfast. CJ giggled to herself occasionally, apparently still delighted by the entire concept, but she left him alone to his thoughts.
Harry had no idea what he'd done so right with this kid, but he could never be grateful enough.
“Tell you what,” he said, when CJ had eaten most of her chocolate-chip pancakes and was yawning into her sausage. “How about we get some to-go plates and take the rest of this home, then go back to bed for a few hours? And when we get up, I'll call Harriet and see how she feels about meeting these guys.”
CJ’s grin lit up her whole face. “That sounds awesome,” she said. “I think this is gonna be really cool, dad.”
Harry's didn't know if he entirely agreed, but he certainly felt less apprehensive about it than he had just a few hours ago.
“Yeah, you know what?” he said. “I think it might just be.”