A/N: Rewatched Pacific Rim and once more came away in love with this adorable little family.
Mako needed a lot of help putting herself back together, a lot of support in then continuing to build herself up as she grew. What Stacker didn't know was that the same was true for him, even if he stopped growing a long time ago. For almost every time he woke the little girl from having to relive the nightmare of losing her parents, she would pat his face till he escaped the dreams of his partner slow death over the drift. Whether they were staying in his little house in London or sleeping on cots on the opposite sides of a shatterdome room, they always made sure the other was alright, that they woke up before the horror soaked back into reality. Not even the kaiju event alarm woke Stacker faster than Mako's sleepy cries.
Which is what tugged him awake now, though he sat up too fast and hit his head on the top of the bunk bed of their room at his current assignment. Clambering out of bed, he stood so he could reach a hand to the top bunk, gently shaking Mako's shoulder. She was getting so big, gangly eleven year old growth spurt kicking in, but he woke her as he had done since she was just the tiny kid he had met on the ruined street in Japan.
Mako opened her eyes with a gasp, looking around the room quickly to reorient herself. "You're safe, you are okay," Stacker murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
Mako focused on his face, and took a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh that shook her whole body. Then she nodded and even tried for a smile. "Safe," she asserted, hand clutching the sheets to confirm reality.
"Want me to make us some tea?" Stacker asked, the question that they both knew really meant 'how bad was the dream?' If Mako shook her head or just asked to go back to sleep, then everything was just brushed away as another nightmare, a sad fact of living life in what at times felt like the end of the world. If it was more than that, she would say-
"Yes, please." And her tone shook a little.
Stacker nodded, but did not ask further. If she wanted to talk about it, she would wait till they both had warm, grounding tea. "I will not make my poor, bastardized English tea," he assured her, giving her hair a ruffle before moving to the little portable stove he brought and set up wherever they were currently staying.
Mako gave a little huff of laughter as she sat up. "No, it is alright, earl grey is perfect," she said, and he was impressed by her english this early in the morning. She must have been practicing.
Stacker smiled, as he filled their kettle in the sink. "Alright, but don't do it for my sake." But he knew it was not. She had explained to him only last week that while proper tea tasted like home, reminding her in the most bittersweet ways of her parents, that now his teas, all very British with cream and sugar added, tasted of this new home they had created. Stacker couldn't argue in someone finding home in not a place, but the type of tea, because there was something so Mako about the sentiment.
And in some way, he really understood.