Chapter Text
You sit at your desk, typing up the last of an email as the clock slowly hits 4pm. A soft sigh escapes your lips, eyes rolling, and you hit send before immediately shutting down the computer.
Thank god it’s Friday. So done with people’s bullshit-
Your feet leave soft thuds against the floor as you quietly make your way to the kitchen. You dump out the now cold tea, rinsing out the mug and setting it in the sink. After putting away the snacks you used to make the end of the work day go by faster, you turn to head back down the hall.
It’s times like this that you are more grateful than ever to be working from home. You gently press the door to the bedroom open, slipping in before it hits the spot where it squeaks. You smile softly as you move quietly around the room, watching your boyfriend laying on the bed. Getting dressed in something more comfortable, you can’t help but stare.
The way he’s laying on his stomach with his arm hooked around the pillow makes it impossible to ignore the way the afternoon light dances across his skin. Your eyes follow the constellation of freckles along his body until they meet his own eyes, closed and peaceful. It’s rare that he’s able to get restful sleep, but when he does, you can tell by the way his face softens. There’s a sort of tension in his body that he holds even in his sleep, but sometimes, that slips away, letting him finally get the rest he so desperately needs.
After changing, you slip into the bed beside him, careful not to interrupt his sleep as much as possible. Still, he stirs at your presence, a soft hum escaping his lips.
“Go back to sleep, Jack,” you say softly. You adjust slightly to feel the fan on your legs but have the blankets curled around your upper body.
He switches the arm wrapped around the pillow, turning his head to now face you laying beside him. Another soft hum before he speaks, “Done with work?”
You affirm with a hum, his eyes still closed as you watch him. “Yeah, go back to sleep. Still a bit longer before your shift.”
He ignores your comment, reaching his free hand out to drape it across your torso. “Napping with me?” he mumbles, sleep dripping from his voice.
You scoot a little bit closer to him, making it a bit easier to reach before nodding. Realizing he still isn’t looking, you speak again. “Yes, but only if you actually sleep,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead on top of his silver curls.
The smallest smile tugs at his lips, and he just once again hums. You let him pull you slightly closer, enjoying this moment you have together before he has to work his night shift at the hospital.
The headache that you’ve been feeling right at your temples slowly starts to dull as a restful sleep starts to take over, the weight of his arm practically holding you together.
**
After about an hour, you feel him start to move a bit more, pulling you from the dreamless sleep. You look over at him, noticing his eyes slowly blinking, adjusting to his surroundings.
“You sleep okay?” you ask softly.
He nods, glancing over at you. “Never enough, but-” he shrugs before bringing his hands up to run across his face. He watches the ceiling for a moment, clearly lost in thought. Only one thought enters your mind as you watch him, noticing every flicker of his eye, every shift of his jaw muscles.
“You could take tonight off… Robby would understand.”
He scoffs slightly, glancing over at you for a moment before resuming the stare at the ceiling.
“I’m fine.”
You sit up slowly, letting the blankets pool in your lap as you cross your legs in front of you. “I know you think you are,” you say, voice low but honest.
That earns you a longer glance and a shake of his head. “I’m fine, baby.”
You sigh quietly, fully facing him and holding your head in one of your hands. You watch him closely, the way he fidgets softly with his wedding band out of habit. “Tell me another story about her.” You add a small “please” when he looks back at you, eyes a bit wider in surprise.
He doesn’t say anything at first, and though he faces you, his eyes still feel distant. So, you speak again. “How old would she be tomorrow?” At that, you watch his throat shift as he swallows. You give him the time he needs before he answers.
“Forty-eight,” he finally says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. You knew his late wife had never made it to forty-five, but he’d never really solidified an age. Your heart warms as he opens up a bit.
You think for a moment, doing some mental math to see what majors birthdays they might have gotten to celebrate together. “How’d you celebrate her fortieth?” you ask, hoping that some guidance will allow him to share more about her. As much as you want to touch him, you keep your free hand in your lap, giving him space for the moment.
He smiles at your question, one of his warm smiles that he reserves for those he loves - for you.
“She never wanted to make a big deal out of her birthdays. I always asked what she wanted to do, but she always shrugged.” He hums at the memories. “That year I decided to do something anyway. It was a special one,” he shrugs softly, almost in defense of himself, but you nod in agreement.
“Made her play hooky from work,” he continues. “I made her a big meal, took her out to the little festival they had that year. We saw all sorts of things, booths and plants, and ate too much dessert. I kept it simple… but it was… real.”
You smile as you think about it, picturing the two of them together, laughing as they pick out food from the stands. “I think it’s wonderful.” Finally, you reach your hand out to cover his, the one his wedding band still sits on. “I always want to learn more about her.”
He looks up from where he was watching your hands meet his and meets your gaze instead. “I never want you to feel like you have a role to fill,” he whispers, emotion more raw than you’ve ever seen. “And I’m sorry if it hurts you when I talk about her-”
Immediately, you’re shaking your head. “Jack, baby, no.” You shift, tugging him softly so he moves to sit up against the headboard. You swing your leg over so you’re straddling his lap, your eyes immediately locking onto his.
“Never, ever apologize for loving her.” Your hands move to cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Jack, I am in no way replacing her. I never want to replace her.” You brush your thumb softly against the bone under his eye. “I want to learn all I can about her. Support you when grieving her. I want to love her in the same way you do.”
His eyes warm as you speak, and at your last comment, he can’t help but smirk ever-so-slightly. “Maybe not in the same way, yeah?”
You laugh softly, hands still holding his face. “I dunno, baby, you’ve shown me pictures of her. She was hot as hell.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips once again. “Watch it.”
You shrug, a teasing grin still on your face. “Seriously though,” you start again. “You never have to hide her from me. You loved her, you still love her. She’s a part of your life, a part of you. And I want all of it.” Your hands shift, moving to run through his hair.
“So if you want to talk to Robby about tonight’s shift, I absolutely support you. And if you don’t…” You think for a moment. “I’ll still support you, but I’m going to be checking on you. All night.” You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.
He sighs softly, nodding. “I’m going to my shift, but I can’t say I’d hate to hear from you when the clock strikes midnight,” he admits, and your heart beams at him actually requesting help of some sort.
“Absolutely, baby. You will absolutely hear from me.”
He nods, murmuring a soft thank you. He presses your lips together, and you melt into the warmth of him. As he shifts you off his lap, you pull his left hand up to your lips and kiss his ring finger, just over the cool band, before giving his hand a squeeze and fully moving off him.
“You’ll be the death of me, love,” he murmurs, swinging his good leg over the side of the bed and reaching for his prosthetic.
“No, I won’t… and you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you hum, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back as he works at his leg.
He shakes his head and slowly starts getting ready for work, and you take the opportunity to watch him, admire him, as he moves about the bedroom and bathroom.
You love every bit of this man, including the people who have loved him. All that matters to you is that he has the support he needs and knows how much people love and care for him. How much you love and care for him.