Work Text:
Alex wakes with a start. The details of his nightmare are already fading as he regains consciousness, but they leave behind a sick feeling of stress. His heart is pounding and his muscles are tensed in a fight or flight reflex – for all the good it will do him from the very defensible position of beneath his blankets. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, Alex sighs. It’s only 12:30.
Stubbornly he closes his eyes and rolls over, willing his muscles to as he exhales because he read somewhere that should help you sleep. Except clearly his muscles haven’t quite gotten the memo, because every time his inhales they seem to tense right back up again. Alex tries rolling onto the other side again. Maybe it’s like a USB, you always have to try both directions?
The light from the alarm clock glares back at him. 12:32.
Sighing Alex decides that sleep clearly isn’t on the table right now and gets up to shrug on a sweater and grab some of his schoolwork. If his body isn’t going to let him sleep, he may as well use the time to get something useful done. God knows he’s failing enough classes right now as it is.
Careful not to wake Jack, Alex starts down the stairs navigating around the creaky spot on the 3rd step and the 7th step and the 9th step and the 10th step. It’s an old house. But Alex tries to see it in a positive way. Given how lightly he sleeps these days, there’s no way an intruder could make it to Jack’s bedroom without setting off at least one of the creaky steps and alerting Alex. So, you know, there’s a silver lining to everything.
Alex however, is very much not an intruder – no matter what it sometimes feels like these days – and he makes it to the kitchen without incident. When he was younger, he and Ian would play a game called cat and mouse. Ian would turn off the lights in the house and Alex would have to navigate through the dark and find an agreed upon item in one of the rooms without getting caught by Ian. He’d been scared at first, he remembers. He’d been so sure that there was some monster lurking within a house made up of shades of grey, that no longer seemed familiar at all. It all seems a bit silly now in light of everything.
Speaking of light, Alex heads to the kitchen, where turning on a lamp is least likely to bother Jack. Spreading his work out on the table, he grabs a binder at random. Citizenship. Fun. He’s certain he’s had more up close and personal contact with the government than the teacher. And honestly, that experience has not done much to convince him of the benefits of being a British citizen. At least the coursework itself is easy, dates and laws and names of stuffy old dead people.
Still, between the familiar rhythm of filling out worksheets and the soft warm glow of the kitchen lamp, Alex does begin to relax. It’s a bit boring, certainly. But also, it’s nice that it’s boring. It’s nice to feel like a normal schoolboy again.
“Ah constitutional principles,” says a voice over Alex’s left shoulder. When he turns Jack is standing there smiling down at him. He must have been more tired than he thought, not to notice her coming into the room. Or maybe he subconsciously recognized her footsteps and knew that Jack could never be a threat.
“I remember when I first studied that. It’s pretty crazy to me as an American that you guys never got around to writing a formal constitution, but I guess you Brits are pretty proud of it huh? Let’s see, that must be Acts of Parliament, court cases, and conventions in the way that the government, parliament, and the monarch act,” Jack says pointing to the three blanks on Alex’s sheet, “I still think our way is a bit simpler, what with a single document and all.”
“Says the woman who voluntarily decided to come to Britain to study law?” Alex shoots back.
“Maybe I was looking to find myself a boy with a posh accent who would spoil me rotten,” Jack says laughing as she ruffles Alex’s hair. “Seems to have worked out pretty well for from where I’m standing.”
Alex shrugs and bites back the urge to point out how wrong the statement is. He knows that Jack would be better off back home. With her real family. Where she wouldn’t have to constantly be worrying what state he’d come back in.
Sensing the shift in his mood, Jack’s demeaner shifts to something more serious. “So what’s got you up so late working on citizenship homework? Was it another nightmare?”
Alex shrugs again. The details aren’t that important and he doesn’t want to stress Jack out any more than she already is. She has enough stress these days without him adding to it.
“I see, well that’s nothing a good cup of tea can’t help with,” Jack declares, making her way over to the electric kettle, “Now do you want to tell me about it or are you going to make me guess?”
Alex shrugs again. What can he really say here that won’t make it worse?
Jack comes back and leans over him, wrapping him in a tight hug from behind. The chair is hard between them, but she ignores it, pulling him closer.
“Alex, I know these last few months have been pretty terrible. And I know that I can’t protect you from it. But I’m always going to be right here waiting for you. No matter what happens, you don’t have to face the world alone. You got that? I’m right here for you and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care what MI6 or anyone has to say about it. I’m not giving up on you and I’m not going away. And it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but if you ever do, you can come to me.”
It doesn’t really change anything, Alex has enough experience by now to know about that, but still, something inside Alex unclenches. And as Jack turns around to grab their mugs of tea it does feel like a weight has been lifted. Because Jack is still here and still smiling at his overacted look of disgust as she presents him his mug of Earl Grey complete with her signature marshmallow face floating at the top.
Things aren’t perfect, but right now, under the soft, warm glow of the kitchen, lamp with a too-sweet tea and Jack, it’s easy to pretend that they are.