"Sebastian's anger management plan says he has to do a certain amount of physical exercise a week," Jim told Verity firmly.

He was seated as comfortably as he could manage in the chair opposite Verity's desk. She hardly ever left her office these days. Dawn had told Jim it was because the government were trying to take money away from the home and Verity was attempting to get around it somehow. Jim supposed that was sensible of her, although he still found her to be an idiot, and for all her big words and qualifications, exceptionally stupid when it came to dealing with mental illness.

"And how would you know that?" Verity asked as she pressed buttons on a grey calculator.

"Because I read his file."

Jim hadn't read all of it. He'd hunted through the cabinet with the full intention to read all about Sebastian's life before Jim knew him, but somehow, seeing the image of four year old Sebastian, bruised and battered and looking more like a corpse than a boy, had scared Jim enough to make him close the file and tuck it away. He had nightmares about it sometimes, seeing Sebastian, his protector, on the brink of death like that. If Sebastian hadn't been so strong, if he'd not been taken to the hospital by his mother, he might have died from blood loss. The thought was too terrible to contemplate, and Jim usually found himself able to contemplate a lot of awful things.

The Sebastian in that grainy image taken at a hospital was not his own. It couldn't be his own. Because his Sebastian was unbreakable.

Verity seemed too tired to tell him off. She merely sighed.

"He already does boxing. I won't permit anything else."

"He's given up on boxing now. He wants to swim instead," Jim told her confidently. This would be easy, he knew. Preoccupied and stressed-out Verity was a woman that could be convinced to let the little things slip.

"You'll need a chaperone."

Jim had already considered that.

"Dawn will take us."

"Have you asked her?"

"Not yet," Jim admitted. "But she'll agree. Unlike some people I could mention, she cares about our wellbeing."

Verity gave another tired sigh and Jim noticed new lines on her face. She was one of those people it was impossible to put an age to. She could have been a very weary young person, or she could have been approaching middle age. Her hair, which seemed to be greying in places, gave nothing away.

"Both of you?"

Jim nodded.

"You're the one that goes on and on about us being healthy. I thought you wanted me to go outside more?"

"I do," Verity agreed. "The cost?"

"I'll pay."

"With what?"

"My dad sends me money."

Jim waited for Verity to pry. She didn't seem to have the energy.

"Alright then. But you'll have to get Dawn to call me and confirm."

"Are you working on accounts?" Jim asked as he got up from his chair. He peered over at Verity's sheet of paper where numbers were scrawled.

"Yes, I am," she said simply.

Jim tilted his head to one side and read the equations upside down. "You made a mistake on the third one down. You'll need to type it in again," Jim offered quietly, before strolling out of the room.

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Sebastian needed a lot of protecting at the moment, and Jim was willing to take that job. At dinner with the other kids, Jim sat beside Sebastian and glared at every single person that stared for too long at Sebastian's poor, bruised face.

"Who beat you up, Sebastian Moron?" Bradley asked from across the table. His mouth was full of food as he spoke. It made Jim feel sick.

While Sebastian lowered his head, Jim lifted his own, fixing Bradley with his most intense gaze. "You should see the state of the other boy," Jim declared. "And there was the boy in Germany too. The one that had his skull cracked open. Do you know what they had in common, Bradley the Chav?"

"What?" Bradley asked, spraying food across the table.

"They both thought they could cross Sebastian. Do the smart thing for once and don't make the same mistake."

Bradley went quiet, thinking that over.

"Did you just threaten me?" he asked dumbly.

Jim sneered at the boy. "I don't need to threaten you. It's a fact. Those that bother Sebastian end up very unhappy indeed. And in quite a few pieces."

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When Dawn turned up the next day, Jim met her in the corridor.

"We're going swimming," he announced by way of greeting.

"You want me to take you? I thought you didn't swim?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't swim, and yes, I want you to take us. Sebastian's had a little disappointment and now he needs to be looked after."

Dawn took off her puffy jacket and hung it on her hook by the door. If Jim had been dressing Dawn, he would have put her in something more slimming, only Sebastian had told him he wasn't to comment on Dawn's weight anymore, and at the moment he wanted to keep Seb happy.

"What's happened?"

Jim beckoned her into the television room, which was currently empty.

"Well, to cut a long story short, he got beaten up by one of his friends. I can't tell you why. But now he's bruised up and sad."

Dawn frowned.

"Does Verity know about this?"

Jim laughed. "Verity hasn't left her office in two days. And she wouldn't care about Sebastian being hurt. She's not that sort of person."

"Okay then," Dawn agreed. "I can try and sort it for next week? I'm a bit busy until then. Does Sebastian need any ice for his bruises?"

Jim hadn't thought of that.

"I'll get you some frozen peas," Dawn said helpfully. "I've heard that can help."

So Jim trooped up the stairs five minutes later with a bag of frozen peas in his right hand.

As expected, Sebastian was sitting on his bed with a book in his hands. Seb had taken to reading almost obsessively in an attempt to block out his feelings. The nearly-thirteen year old didn't have the heart to pry the thick and intimidating novels out of Sebastian's large hands.

Jim took a moment to appreciate the bruises blossoming all over his Sebastian's face, making it swollen and oddly contorted. It was a beautiful sight really. Beautiful and terrible.

"Frozen peas," Jim announced, closing the door behind him. "And we're going swimming in a week."

Sebastian swallowed and put his book down. "You hate swimming," he pointed out. "You can't do it. You never got taught."

Jim sighed and sat down beside Sebastian, handing him the peas and wiping his wet hand on Sebastian's shirt.

"Well, you can teach me then, can't you? Provided you don't let me drown."

"Okay," Sebastian agreed.

That wasn't quite the grateful reaction Jim had been hoping for, but it was better than nothing.

"You can't just mope about in here forever," Jim told Sebastian firmly.

"Not moping," Seb mumbled. "Reading."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Don't try to be smart. Yes, you are. At dinner last night you let Bradley walk all over you and I had to shut him up. You're a fighter Sebastian, I expect you to respond differently next time."

"I'm just tired," Sebastian attempted to explain. And he was tired. He was tired of everything.

"What do you say to me every time you find me about to open my wrists?" Jim asked Sebastian gently, placing his hand on Sebastian's thigh. "Hm?"

Sebastian thought about it, sniffing as he responded.

"It's gonna be alright."

"Exactly," Jim agreed. "And the same goes for you. Do you think I'll let you be miserable for the rest of your life?"

"Guess not."

"You guess right," Jim said with a nod of his head. "You and I only have each other, which makes it even more important that we're both okay, doesn't it?"

Sebastian nodded.

"You feel awful right now because your friend has rejected you, and the others probably will too," Jim said simply. "And that's natural, 'Bastian. But Dawn won't reject you, and I certainly won't. So there's no need to fret, is there?"

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The swimming pool was overheated and the floor was wet. It smelled strongly of chlorine and Jim wrinkled up his nose with distaste as he, Dawn, and Sebastian entered the building.

Dawn decided to go and wait in the café while he and Sebastian had a swim. They were allowed an hour before they had to meet Dawn again.

They chose a changing room to share, and Sebastian started to strip off his jeans. He was already wearing his swimming trunks underneath them. Jim peered at him curiously.

"Are you not going to take your shirt off?"

Sebastian shook his head. "People'd stare. Scars."

Jim supposed that was reasonable. He peeled off his own jeans and decided to keep his t-shirt on too. Partly so Sebastian wouldn't feel so odd and covered up, but partly because he knew that compared to Sebastian's muscled abdomen, his stomach would appear soft and childish. He didn't want people to see that.

They paid money for lockers and walked down to the pool, placing their towels on the side.

Jim didn't trust the slippery surface beneath his feet or the way the water went between his pale toes, causing Jim to screw up his features. He hoped he wouldn't get germs. Sebastian walked with the confidence of someone that had done this lots of times, and Jim had to up his pace to keep up with him. He found himself walking on the balls of his feet and trying to stay balanced so he wouldn't slide over and embarrass himself.

The pool itself was simple enough, although it looked too deep to Jim, the lights too bright. The colours on the surface shifted and people were splashing all over the place.

One end of the pool was cordoned off for some sort of club or practice, but Jim didn't pay that much notice. Sebastian led him to the least crowded area of the pool, the shallow end.

Sebastian climbed into the pool via a metal ladder and looked immediately at ease. His feet could touch the floor easily, but he decided to tread water.

Jim perched on the edge, tentatively dipping his toes into the water. It wasn't as warm as he would have liked. He wondered if the chlorine was stinging Sebastian's cuts and bruises.

"It's not so bad once you're in," Sebastian assured him. "When your shoulders go under, your body adjusts."

"I don't think I want to swim anymore," Jim said quickly, looking down at the way the water swirled and surged and distorted the painted lines on the pool floor. Jim wasn't usually scared, at least, he didn't admit to his fears, but the water did disturb him.

"Okay," Seb said. "You want to watch?"

Jim nodded.

So Sebastian swam. Jim admired the way the water parted for him, the way his shoulders strained with each stroke. He was powerful and he was beautiful. It took him hardly any effort at all to glide from one end of the pool to the other, and every so often he ducked right under the water and then broke the surface a distance away from where he'd initially disappeared. Jim watched the way the water soaked his blond hair to his head, making it appear brown, sticking to his face, trickling over his features and dripping from his strong jaw. Sebastian's white t-shirt stuck to his skin too, and displayed his lovely stomach, hard and perfectly sculpted.

Eventually, Sebastian returned to Jim, looking a little more like his usual self. His anger management plan had got it right. Exercise did soothe Sebastian. It exhilarated him.

"You sure you don't want to swim?" he asked, wiping water out of his eyes. The chlorine was making his blue eyes brighter, even the one with the drooping lid, still healing from a punch.

"I'll get in with you," Jim said finally. "But I won't swim today. Is it too deep for me?"

Sebastian stood up straight in the water and worked out where the water came to on his body.

"Your mouth'll be above the water," he told him.

Jim nodded his head and took a breath. He wasn't quite sure how to enter the water.

Sebastian responded perfectly as always. He swam right up to the edge and held out his arms so Jim could slip into them.

"You'll let me out if I don't like it?" Jim asked.

Sebastian nodded. "'Course."

Jim's body was awkward and he tensed up as he tentatively lowered himself into the pool. Sebastian kept his arms wrapped around him, easily holding his head above the water level. Jim clung to his neck tightly and kicked his feet a bit, getting used to the feel of being partially submerged. It wasn't as unpleasant as he'd thought, but perhaps that had something to do with the way Sebastian was allowing him to cling to his body so tightly.

"You alright?" Sebastian asked, staring to move away from the edge.

"Yes, I think so," Jim agreed. "How do you stay up? When you're not touching the ground?"

"Kick your feet like you're pedalling a bike. Then just push the water from side to side with your hands. Keep your fingers together."

Sebastian's hands moved to Jim's hips so he had the space to try it out. At first he flailed and kicked clumsily, expression slightly scared.

"I'm not gonna let go of you," Sebastian assured him.

"You'd better not," Jim murmured, attempting it yet again but still finding he was useless at it. The water didn't respond to his commands the way it did to Sebastian, and the smell of the chlorine was putting him off.

"It'll get easier. Everything does in the end," Sebastian told him, pulling Jim back into his arms and starting to swim him slowly around the pool.

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"You know what I want to do, don't you?" Jim asked Sebastian quietly as they got dressed in their changing room. Seb was scrubbing at his hair and Jim was standing draped in the largest towel, looking expectant and waiting for Sebastian to dry him.

"You can't," Sebastian said in low tones. "Please don't."

Jim tutted but looked sad.

"He hurt you. And nobody hurts my 'Bastian. I can't allow it."

Sebastian looked pained as he pulled on a blue t-shirt and reached for his jeans.

"You don't get it, Jim. You just don't."

Jim thought he got it exactly. He understood it all far better than Sebastian did. Poor Sebastian blamed himself for what Ben did to him, but Jim wasn't going to allow that to continue.

"Dry me off," Jim commanded, and Sebastian did so, zipping up his jeans and moving to rub Jim's body with the towel, his movements methodical as he tried to avoid the confrontation he knew was coming.

"What if I said I won't hurt him physically?" Jim asked. "What if I just used my resources to make him pay some other way?"

Sebastian found Jim's shirt and pulled it over Jim's dark head.

"I don't want you to hurt him," he said simply.

Jim sighed and reached out to pat Sebastian's chest. "I have to punish him, Sebby. You know that, don't you? But as a favour to you, I've decided not to break his bones. I'm making an allowance."

Sebastian grabbed Jim's jeans and held them for Jim as he stepped into them carefully, his hands on Sebastian's shoulders to steady himself.

"You can't hurt him," Sebastian repeated, refusing to look Jim in the eyes.

"Physically, no. In terms of wounded pride and reputation, yes, I certainly can," Jim agreed as he sat down on the bench, waiting for Sebastian to put his socks on for him. It reminded him of when he was a child and Seb had done the same every morning without fail.

Sebastian gave a resigned sigh which Jim took as his assent. And even if it wasn't agreement, Jim would get his way eventually. It was for Sebastian's own good, after all. People had to learn that he wasn't to be messed with. They both had to be untouchable.

"You have bloody weird feet," Sebastian commented as he tried to cover Jim's toes with the material of his socks.

"I have beautiful feet," Jim corrected him firmly, poking him in the cheek with the big toe of the foot that was still free.

"Monkey feet."

"Small and dainty," Jim said with a smirk. "Not like your monstrosities. You have man feet."

"Right, and you have woman feet, is that what you're saying?" Sebastian teased.

It was good to hear Sebastian being playful again. He hadn't laughed once since what had happened with Ben, and it soothed Jim. It meant Sebastian was healing and getting stronger and harder in the process.

"I'm saying my feet are prettier than yours," Jim clarified, poking Sebastian in the cheek again. "Now hurry up. I want to go home and have a nice bath."

"With bubbles?"

"Yes, with bubbles," Jim agreed. "You can run it for me. And you need a shower because you stink of chlorine."

"Yes, sir," Sebastian said, using his mock-military voice, the one that had made Jim laugh so much as a child.

"Such a good boy. Chop chop."