Work Text:
The plane hit a pocket of turbulence and John checked to see if his companion had noticed. But no, Bruce still slept on, totally unaware of his surroundings.
No surprise there. Prior to boarding the plane they had both been up for close to forty hours. Most of that had been working a case for Walt. Bruce had been driving and since his place was closer it was decided that John would drop his friend off and drive home, then return the car the next day.
Bruce had invited John to come up for some hot coffee and never one to refuse a good cup, the psychic had agreed. When he had put his hand on the stair rail leading to Bruce's third floor apartment, he'd had a flash of a small Black woman weeping at a man's bedside, calling Bruce's name.
John had quietly suggested his friend check his phone messages and both men listened as Rose Lewis calmly informed her son of his father's sudden death.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
John knew he would never forget Bruce's expression. It had been a mixture of anger and sadness, with something more undefined mixed in. Clearly the man was conflicted where his father was concerned.
Up until now, John hadn't even known that his friend had any living family. He never spoke of them and the few visions John ever got from Bruce were always in the now.
Bruce had called his mother immediately, in spite of the late hour and had assured her he would be home as soon as he could. It was obvious from his voice that whatever problems he'd had with his father, they didn't extend to his mother.
Once he'd hung up, he had asked John for a ride to the airport.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
The psychic had obliged but had also insisted on making the trip with him. It was a sign of just how stressed and drained Bruce was that he didn't even argue.
They had been able to get two seats in first class on a six a.m. flight which gave them time to stop by John's place so he could grab his good suit and a few other necessary items. John drove them to the airport and parked the car, handing the keys over to his friend. For Bruce's sake, he was thankful it was a small airport and the car was not likely to come to any harm.
Bruce had remained silent as they checked in and made their way through security. He not only didn't respond to the ticket clerk's overt flirting, he didn't even seem to notice, much to her chagrin.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Watching his friend's continued slumber, John felt a wave of protectiveness surge through him. He had a feeling Bruce was going to need his help to get through the next few days and he was more than happy to be in a position to be able to give it. He owed the man that and so much more, though Bruce wasn't the sort who would ever collect.
Bruce had provided so much support in the few years they had known each other and John often felt it was an unequal relationship. He couldn't help wondering what the other man got from their friendship but he never could bring himself to ask, and Bruce never said.
Leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, John reflected that this was the perfect opportunity to give back a little of that unwavering support. He vowed he would do whatever he could for Bruce, just as the other man had so often done for him.
~ fin ~