vita non est vivere, sed valera vita est

(life is not about living, but to live a good life)

It was sunny the day they brought Ethan home from the hospital. James had driven slower and more carefully than he'd ever driven in his life, glancing into the rearview mirror whenever he could to check on his happy, exhausted wife as she gazed at their new baby son, watching him scrunch his little nose while he slept. He never thought he could love somebody so much, and simultaneously he'd never been so scared in his life.

Today it was gray and gloomy, rain sluicing against the windshield. James drove carefully through the congested traffic leading them away from Quantico. Alex sat next to him, and every few minutes she looked back at the child in the backseat. "Is he asleep?" he asked quietly.

"I think so," she said.

"Good. He needs it."

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Spencer looked so small alone back there, Henry's ill-fitting jacket pulling tight over his chest and his long hair hanging over his face. Penelope had let them take her fleece blanket along with them and it covered most of him. Alex twisted around to get a better look, her mouth tugging down in a stressed frown.

"What are you thinking?" James asked.

She sank back in her seat and sighed, watching the windshield wipers move. "His room's not ready," she said. "I thought we had a couple more months before we'd get approved."

"That's okay," James reassured her. "We'll let him pick out his own things, then, when he's feeling better. For now we'll get him set up in the guest room."

"We need to figure out school, too," she said, staring straight ahead at the road. "And get him some clothes, I don't think he has much. And witsec still needs us to figure out a way to change his appearance."

James reached over and squeezed her knee. "Hey, hey, one thing at a time," he said. Alex glanced over at him and tried to smile. "Right now, let's just get him home, okay?"

"Okay," she echoed.

He knew that was easier said than done. He knew that Alex's mind was running through every possible scenario, every possible outcome, comparing the unknown to the things she did know. She was stressing herself out, he could tell, and that would be the worst thing she could for herself or for Spencer.

At least the drive to their new house was shorter than the old one. It was a pleasant, quiet neighborhood, shaded with big oak trees and lined in neat flower-trimmed sidewalks, even though February in Virginia left the trees barren and the flowers buried under snow. James pulled into the garage and parked her car next to his, and they sat there in the thick silence for a moment.

"You ready?" he asked. After a moment, she nodded.

He got out of the car and opened up the back door; Spencer raised his head sleepily. "Hey, buddy, you fall asleep?" James asked, smiling at him. Spencer scrunched his nose, as if he wasn't sure of the answer. He reached around to unbuckle his seatbelt, then lifted him out of the car. Spencer gave a little squeak of protest, but he didn't fight back. "It's okay. I got ya."

Alex reached around him to pick up the battered suitcase JJ had handed off to her. James adjusted Spencer on his hip. "Jesus, it's freezing out here," he said. "Let's get you inside."

The security alarm sounded as soon as Alex unlocked the door, sharp and piercing, and Spencer covered his ears and hid his face in James's shoulder. Alex punched in the code and switched on the lights as James nudged the door closed and set Spencer carefully down on the floor. "Welcome home, kiddo," he said.

Spencer looked around at his new surroundings almost in a daze. James fiddled with the thermostat and turned up the heat. "We just moved here a few months ago, there's still a few boxes left that we need to unpack," Alex explained. Spencer nodded.

James tugged lightly on Spencer's jacket and pulled it off of him. His baggy jeans were too long, puddling over his dirty sneakers, and his plain tee shirt was paper thin and hanging off his shoulders. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

Spencer rubbed his eyes. "I'm okay," he said in a small voice.

Alex brushed his hair away and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "You feel really warm, sweetheart," she said. "Do you want to go lie down? It's been a long day, some rest could do you some good."

He nodded hesitantly. Alex took him by the hand and walked him down the hallway to the stairs.

James pulled off his coat and tossed it with Spencer's borrowed jacket in the closet, then sank down on the living room couch with a heavy sigh. When he woke up that morning he had no idea he would end the day with a child in his house. A sick child, at that, and while Alex hadn't given him the full story yet, he knew enough that he was a traumatized child too.

All he could do was take it slowly. One thing at a time. He couldn't get ahead of himself. Later he could worry about other things, the big things. Right now he had a sick kid that needed somebody to help him feel better. And he could handle that.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed out a list in the notes app. After a moment of hesitation, he made a call. He'd done a lot of favors for a lot of other people over the years, now was as good a time as any to start calling in a few of his own.

He headed up the stairs to the master bedroom and pulled the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet in their bathroom, then walked down to the guest room. It was small- just a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser- but at least the unpacked boxes were hidden in the closet so they weren't stacked in the middle of the floor. It would do until they could get the actual room they'd chosen for a hypothetical child fixed up.

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched. Alex had taken his sneakers off and set them on the floor, and she was talking to him quietly but he wasn't making eye contact with her.

"Hey, I grabbed this," James said, holding up the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. Alex took a step back, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I figured we should see how you're doing."

Spencer shrank back. "Is it the under the tongue kind?" he asked.

"Nope, just the ear kind," James said as he uncapped it. "Do you not like the tongue kind?"

Spencer looked down at his hands. He was pale, but the fever flush was beginning to rise on his sharp cheekbones. "My stomach hurts," he said.

"What kind of hurt? Like you're going to throw up?" James asked. Spencer nodded reluctantly. That didn't bode well, but it did confirm his suspicions that he was coming down with something. "Well, don't worry about it right this second. I'm just going to set this in your ear. Hold still."

Spencer held very still and held his breath as James held the thermometer to his ear. "How bad is it?" Alex asked as soon as it beeped.

"Could be worse," James said. He capped the thermometer and set it on the nightstand, then rested his hand lightly on Spencer's shoulder. "All right, buddy. What sounds better right now- sleep, or something to eat? You look pretty tired, but eating a little something might help settle your system."

Spencer thought it over, still avoiding eye contact. He pulled at the skin around his thumbnail, sharp and rhythmic. "I think I'm tired," he said at last.

James smiled at him. "Let's go with that then," he said. "You go change, okay? I'm going to talk to Alex for a second."

He gave Spencer's shoulder a last gentle squeeze and beckoned to Alex; he ushered her into the hallway and closed the door behind them. "Well?" Alex said, crossing her arms. "What are you thinking? Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine," he reassured her. "He's got a bit of a fever. He's definitely got some kind of flu coming on. Nothing to be too concerned about, as far as I can tell. Honestly, after everything he's been through in the past forty-eight hours, plus getting stuck in the cold, I would be shocked if he wasn't feeling under the weather."

"What can we do?" Alex asked.

"Well…" James said. He pulled out his phone, opened the note he'd just written, and texted it to her. Alex frowned as she took out her phone. "I just sent you a list."

"A list of what?"

"Go shopping, pick up a few things he'll need right now," James said. "And I called in a prescription for him, it should be ready by the time you get there."

Her jaw dropped. "You want me to leave?" she said.

"I need you to get your thoughts in order," he said softly. He squeezed her upper arms lightly. "I'm giving you a task to do. Something that's going to help him. And you're my introvert, I know you need some time to yourself to recharge. It's been a rough day for you too."

She wilted at that, her mouth pressing together tightly. "Will you let me know if anything happens?" she said.

"Al, I bet money he's just going to sleep the whole time you're gone," James said. He squeezed her arms again and leaned to kiss her forehead. "I'll stay with him, and I'll text you if anything changes. I promise."

The door tapped open and Alex took a step back. "Hi, sweetheart," she said, pushing her hair out of her face. "Are you okay?"

Spencer nodded. He looked exhausted, his eyes dull and ringed in purplish shadows. His pajamas were threadbare and faded, and not nearly warm enough for winter. "I'm okay," he echoed.

Alex smiled at him. "Let's get you to bed," she said. She picked him up and he leaned his head on her shoulder. James's heart ached at the sight of her half-hidden wistful smile.

She set Spencer down on the bed and pulled the covers up around him, tucking him in securely. "Sleep well," she said. "I'm going to go out and run some errands, but you tell James if you need anything at all while I'm gone, okay?"

Spencer nodded. Alex smoothed the comforter over his chest, lingering as if she wanted to say something else, but after a moment she got up and walked out of the room, leaving the door cracked.

"You promise you'll call if anything changes?" she asked.

"Immediately," he said. "Go. Go be useful. I know that'll make you feel better."

She smiled at him. "Sometimes I forget how well you know me," she said.

He watched her walk down the hall, and as her footsteps died down on the stairs he exhaled slowly. This was fine. Everything was fine. They could do this. They just had to take it one step ahead at a time, and not get ahead of themselves.

Alex let herself into the house, trying to stay quiet in case Spencer was still sleeping. It was dark now, and the temperature outside had dropped dramatically. She shook the snow out of her hair as she walked into the dark kitchen and set her bags down on the counter.

"Hey, I thought I heard you come in," James said as he followed her into the kitchen and turned on the lights. He'd traded the dark gray suit he'd worn to his meeting in the city for black joggers and an old tee shirt from a fundraiser 10K race. He kissed her temple as she started unpacking the first bag. "Shit, is it that cold outside? There's snow in your hair."

"It's freezing," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised if the whole street is iced over in the morning." She wadded up the plastic carrier bag and set it aside. "How is he?"

"Sleeping," James said. "Or, if I'm being more accurate...snoring. He's got a lot of congestion."

"Has his fever gone down?"

"Holding steady," he said. "He threw up a little bit ago, I got him some water and he went right back to sleep. Did you pick up the prescription I called in?" She handed him the little paper bag. "Perfect. I got it in the bubblegum flavor. I haven't seen a kid yet who doesn't like the bubblegum flavor."

"Should we take him to an actual doctor to be checked out?" she asked.

James feigned shock. "Am I not an actual doctor to you?" he said. She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look, I know what you mean. We can take him in to a pediatrician for a full physical once he feels better. I'll call in a favor." He paused. "I don't suppose Penelope's found his medical records, has she?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

She wadded up another empty carrier bag. "I mean, his last doctor's appointment was when he was six and about to start first grade," she said. "He hasn't seen a doctor since. I don't think he's ever seen a dentist."

James whistled. "Well, fuck," he said. He frowned and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Lex, what am I missing here?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You said he needed to be put into witsec," he said. "What's going on? Is this an abuse case, or-"

She sighed. "Not exactly," she said. "It's a long story."

James pushed himself up and switched on the coffeemaker. "I've got time," he said.

She sketched all of it out, as much as she could share with him- interviewing Spencer at his school, his frantic phone call after finding Riley's body and letting him fall asleep in her lap at the crime scene, Hotch and Morgan taking him home and finding out that not only was Michaels waiting for him, but that he was living alone in a biohazard apartment after months of neglect from his missing mother.

James tapped his fingers against his empty coffee cup. "Jesus," he breathed. "That poor little kid."

Alex leaned her head in her hand, exhaustion weighing heavy on her shoulders. "He's in a really bad place," she confessed. "I saw the photos from the apartment. It wasn't livable. No heat, no food, completely filthy-"

"And no parent," James said. "No wonder he's so standoffish. He's terrified."

Alex laced her fingers together and rested her chin on her hands. "What do you think?" she asked. "Have we gotten in over our heads?"

He sort of smiled. "The opposite," he said. "I think we're right where we need to be. We've both been around sick kids, traumatized kids. And if someone needs to keep him physically safe, he's literally living with an FBI agent."

Alex looked down at the dregs of coffee in her mug. "It's not permanent," she said. "We can't...we shouldn't get too attached. Most likely he'll be with us for a few weeks, a few months at best. If we find Michaels, he doesn't need to stay in witsec. If we find his mother, or another relative willing to take him, most likely they'll reunite them and relocate them together."

For some reason saying it aloud made her sad. And it shouldn't make her sad. Whatever happened needed to be the best thing for Spencer. Most likely that best thing would be finding his biological mother. He was clearly attached to her.

James sat up. "You hear that?" he said.

Alex nodded and got up quickly. "I'll check on him," she said.

The door to the bedroom was partially open, letting light spill from the hallway, but it was still too dark. Spencer was a little lump under the covers, his back turned towards her, but she could still hear him crying into his pillow, half strangled like he was trying to muffle the sound.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she soothed as she sat down beside him and switched on the bedside lamp. "Are you all right?"

He rolled over enough to look up at her, his tangled hair plastered to his reddened, damp cheeks. His sobs caught sharply in his throat and he broke into a cough. "I know, I know," she said softly. "Try to take a deep breath, darling."

"Just...just a bad dream," he rasped, his chest heaving. "'m sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she said. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

She didn't hear James come in until he ripped open the packaging in his hand. "This might help a little bit," he said, setting the plastic down on the dresser. He plugged the nightlight into the nearest outlet. "I've got some medicine for you too, kiddo. It's the liquid kind. Do you like bubblegum?"

Alex stroked Spencer's hair back from his forehead as he smiled tentatively. "Yeah," he said.

"See, Lex, what'd I tell you?" James grinned. "Everybody likes bubblegum. Can you sit up for me for a second?"

Spencer struggled to push himself up; Alex slid her hand behind his narrow back and helped him, rearranging the pillows. James measured out thick medicine into a cup. "Drink all of that, and then some water," he said. Spencer obeyed.

Alex kept her hand against his back. For a moment she desperately wanted to lift him onto her lap and hug him tight and kiss his cheeks, but she held back. She didn't want to spook him.

"Good job, buddy," James said as he took the empty water cup. "Do you want more? Do you need anything else?" Spencer shook his head slowly. "You want to go back to sleep?"

"Uh-huh," he whispered.

Alex shifted the covers so he could lie down and tucked them around him tightly. "Sweet dreams," she said. "Call us if you need us."

She bent over and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. Spencer blinked up at her sleepily, his fist pressed against his jaw. "G'night," he mumbled, and he seemed to drift off right before her eyes.

She didn't realize how long she sat there, watching him sleep, until James squeezed her shoulder. "Let him rest," he whispered. "He'll still be there in the morning."

"I know," she said. Spencer shifted around, his thumb wending its way to his mouth, and she rested her hand on his chest until he settled back down. "I know."

He could hear low voices in the hallway and he strained to listen. Sleepiness still pulled at him, enough that he kept his eyes closed, but he could hear their indistinct conversation. It was almost nice somehow. The Blake house was quiet compared to the apartment, but it was a different kind of quiet from the silent static of Henry's playroom, something softer and warmer.

The bed was too big, swallowing him up in layers of soft blankets as he sank into the mattress. It had been a long time since he'd gotten to sleep in a bed like this. The couch at the apartment was rock hard and smelled like dust and mildew; the only bed hadn't been much better. But that was where he lived with his mother, and for a moment the shameful disloyalty swept over him like a wave.

He swallowed hard and instantly regretted it. It felt like broken glass, and for a second he pressed his hands to his throat. He was too hot now too, and the blankets that had been cozy a moment ago felt oppressive and heavy, so he tried to push them away but his arms didn't seem to have any strength left.

The door tapped open and he forced himself to sit up, the room tilting and swimming around him. "Hey, kiddo, are you awake?" James said.

He rubbed his eyes. "Yeah," he rasped.

"Your throat's still pretty sore, isn't it?" James said sympathetically. Spencer nodded, not willing to attempt speaking again.

Alex touched the back of her hand to his forehead. "James, he's still burning up," she said quietly. "Should we take him to the doctor? Before we would always-"

She broke off midsentence. "We can handle it," he said. He squeezed Spencer's thin upper arm gently. "We'll take it easy while Alex is at work, okay?"

He nodded. Alex brushed his tangled hair back. "I'll be home around six," she said. "Get plenty of sleep, drink lots of water." She touched her fingertips lightly to his chin, smiling almost wistfully at him. "Let James know if there's anything you need. I'll be home really soon."

She kissed James goodbye and left the room. Spencer curled himself back against the headboard, making himself small as the grownups said their goodbyes. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now.

"All right, buddy," James said. "Do you want to stay up here, or do you want to go down to the living room?"

He shrugged. Was there an answer he was supposed to give? What was James expecting him to pick?

"How about this?" James said gently. "Alex picked up some new pajamas for you, they're in the bathroom. You get changed, and then we'll hang out in the living room and you can watch movies all day. Sound good?"

He nodded. James helped him slide down from the bed and caught him by the arm when his knees buckled. "Take it easy," he said. "Bathroom's right across the hall. Come downstairs whenever you're ready."

He walked slowly to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. His whole body hurt, soreness sinking deep into his bones, and his chest ached from coughing. A headache was beginning to throb in his temples.

The clothes Alex had picked out for him were set on the counter. The pajamas were a little big, just enough to be comfortable, and the fabric was soft against his skin. He couldn't remember the last time he had brand new pajamas.

He ventured down the unfamiliar hallway, looking for the stairs, and made his way down carefully, clinging tightly to the railing. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and for a moment he sat down on the steps and closed his eyes until it passed.

He peeked around the corner into the living room. The TV was turned on, there were blankets and pillows propped up on the couch, and there was a cup with a straw waiting for him on the end table. "Go get comfortable," James called from the kitchen. "Medicine first, then water. Are you hungry? I can make you something. And you can put whatever you want on the TV."

"Okay," Spencer said in a small voice. Anxiety welled in the pit of his stomach, and he wanted to go hide himself away somewhere. He could get through this fine on his own, just like he always had. He didn't need to be fussed over. His mom never fussed over him when he was sick.

But he climbed up on the couch, and James draped a light blanket around him, and somehow it was reassuring to have someone looking out for him, even if it was a stranger.

JJ peered around the corner of the break area and down the hallway, trying to see if anyone was coming, and jumped at the sound of a sudden voice. "Who are you looking for?" Emily asked.

"Jesus, don't scare me like that," JJ said irritably.

Emily cackled as she opened the fridge. "Sorry," she said, then paused and made a face. "Oh, come on. Did Morgan eat my leftovers from yesterday?"

"You're really going to have cold lo mein for breakfast?" JJ said. "Don't you have anything to eat in your own house?"

"Jayje, you've been to my apartment," Emily said. "You know for a fact that if it's not microwaveable, it's not in my kitchen." She closed the fridge with a satisfying clunk. "I'll just drink coffee and get a breakfast sandwich out of the vending machine."

"Please don't do that, you don't know how long those have been in there."

Derek rounded the corner, coffee cup in hand. "Hey, Hotch called us in for a meeting in ten," he said. "What are you guys doing?"

"I'm going to eat a knockoff egg McMuffin out of the vending machine, but I don't know what JJ is doing," Emily said. She raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing, JJ?"

JJ sighed heavily. "Trying to see if Alex is coming in today," she confessed.

"I'm sure she's on her way in," Derek said, leaning back against the kitchenette countertop. "Why wouldn't she be? Did Hotch give her some time off?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, since she's got the kid at home now," Emily said.

"It's just…" Her voice trailed off. "Don't you guys feel a little...awkward?"

"No, why?" Emily said. "Do you feel awkward?"

JJ bit her lip. It was different for them. They didn't have kids. They hadn't spent the last year and change talking about their kids, showing off photos, complaining about the mischief their kids had gotten into, all the while telling Alex how lucky she was that she didn't have a child to worry about. And all the while Alex was silently mourning for her little boy, probably willing to kill to have a chance to have one more day with him.

"It's just a lot," she said at last.

"I wonder how the kid is doing," Derek said. "He's been put through the wringer in the past forty-eight hours."

"And we still don't have anything on Michaels, or his mother," Emily added.

"Garcia's doing her best, but...yeah," Derek admitted. "No sign of either of them."

JJ took a step back as Alex walked in, her coat over her arm and her bag slung over her shoulder. "Good morning," she said. She was smiling, her eyes brighter than JJ had seen her before. "I haven't missed anything, have I?"

"Not yet, but Hotch wants us to come for a meeting in the conference room in five minutes," Emily said. "How's Spencer doing? Is he settling in okay?"

"He's doing all right," Alex said. "He's down with a pretty bad case of the flu, but James has some time before he starts work at the hospital, so he's staying home with him."

"Poor kid," Derek said. "That's gotta suck. You tell him we're all thinking of him, okay?"

"I will," Alex said. She glanced up at the closed conference room door. "I'll see you guys up there in a second."

She headed towards the bullpen, and JJ followed her. "Hey," she said, and Alex paused, waiting for her to catch up. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Alex said, blinking in surprise. "Everything's fine. Spencer's pretty miserable right now, but James says he'll be fine in a week or so." She tilted her head. "Are you okay?"

JJ held her breath, measuring her words before she spoke. "I wanted to apologize," she said in a low voice. "For...before. I said a lot of really thoughtless things about...about being a parent, and I just want to apologize. If I'd have known-"

"If you'd have known, you would have walked on eggshells around me," Alex said. Some of the brightness had dimmed in her brown eyes. "It's fine."

"You could have told us," JJ said.

"We all grieve in our own ways," Alex said quietly. "I chose not to talk about Ethan. It was my decision. It's fine."

"But it still couldn't have made it easy for you to hear me talk about Henry all the time," JJ said.

Alex was silent for a moment. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and met JJ's gaze. "When people find out you've lost a child, they look at you in this certain way, like you're something fragile about to crack," she said at last. "You don't need to look at me like that. I'm not breakable." She offered a tense smile. "I'll see you in the meeting."

She walked to her desk, and JJ stood still, watching her leave.

He was half asleep on the couch, in the old apartment. The thin lumpy pillow scratched against his cheek and the well-worn sheet draped over him did nothing to warm him up. The fabric smelled like it hadn't been washed in years, but it was familiar, and the ancient TV struggled to play a sitcom rerun.

He huddled in a smaller, tighter ball under the sheet. There was an emptiness in his chest, like he'd been hollowed out and cast aside. It was sort of like loneliness, except he wasn't sure if anyone was missing him.

Someone tapped sharply on the window and he pushed himself to sit up. He couldn't see through the thick layers of packing tape and newspapers, and his heart pounded against his ribs.

"Spencer!"

His heart skipped a beat. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the window, grabbing at the newspaper pages made brittle in the sun. They tore away in satisfying rips, falling around him like confetti.

"Mom?" he breathed.

His mother stood on the other side of the window, pressing her palms to the glass, smiling at him. "Spencer, I'm home," she said. "Let me in!"

"Mommy, I knew you'd come back," he said.

"Of course I'd come back, I could never leave my baby behind," she said. "Let me in, I lost my keys, you need to let me in."

He stumbled to the front door, fumbling to flip the lock. "I missed you!" he said. "I missed you so much, Mommy, I-"

He stopped. His mother wasn't at the door.

"Hey, Spencer. You wanna play? Chess tables are open."

His throat worked convulsively. He couldn't speak.

"Hey, guess what? I just got a brand new puppy."

Dark green jacket. Baseball cap. Black sneakers.

"You wanna come see him?"

Spencer looked back wildly at the window. He'd torn a gash in the newspaper like a wound, letting moonlight pour into the dark room. His mother was gone.

Gary Michaels smiled at him, his eyes lost behind the glint of the streetlamp on his glasses. It was beginning to rain, dripping from the brim of his baseball cap. "Spencer, let's go," he said, and he placed his hand on his narrow shoulder, the pad of his thumb massaging the base of his neck.

Spencer ran. He wasn't wearing any shoes, or a jacket, but he didn't care. Rain flooded him, freezing his already ice-cold skin, and he stumbled down the stairs and down the street as fast as he could, and he ran until-

He tripped over something soft and still warm, and even with the rain blurring his vision he saw pale white skin and frozen blue eyes and dark blood on pale blond curls, and he screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, until it hurt, until it felt like broken glass was cutting into his throat.

"Spencer, it's okay, sweetheart, it's okay."

He felt hands gripping him and he fought back, kicking and striking out, trying to shake off whoever it was. He kept screaming but no sound came out so he tried to scream harder, oxygen evaporating in his lungs.

"Spencer, wake up, it's just a bad dream. You're safe, I promise."

He didn't have the strength to fight back anymore, and he didn't have the voice to scream.

"Take a deep breath for me, Spencer. Deep breath."

He obeyed despite himself, and dimly he realized that the person holding him wasn't Gary Michaels, and it wasn't his mother either.

"I'm here, baby. I'm right here. No one's going to hurt you."

He forced his eyes to open and his breath broke in a startled little gasp, his hands clutching involuntarily at Alex's sleeve. She held him tightly on her lap, his head tucked against her shoulder, and she rocked him a little bit.

He was on the couch in the Blakes' living room. The blinds were closed and the curtains drawn, and the lamps cast warm homey glows around him. Alex was still in her work clothes and her hair brushed against his cheek as she rocked him. He was crying, and he didn't know why he was crying, or who he was crying for.

"It's okay, you're okay," she was murmuring, her chin resting against the top of his head. "I've got you. No one's going to hurt you."

He gripped her shirt tightly and kept crying steadily, as if he couldn't stop- and maybe he couldn't. Alex kept whispering soft gentle things into his hair until he began to quiet, and he wrapped his arms tight around her neck.

"It was just a bad dream," she whispered. "Just a bad dream, dearest. I've got you."

For some reason that seemed to soothe him. He hid his face against the crook of her neck as his sobs died down, and she kept stroking his hair, and his last memory before he fell asleep was of Alex and James talking in their low gentle voices as he drifted off again, hoping the memory of his dream would fade away like smoke from a snuffed candle.

Author's Notes:

The second arc has officially begun!

This is the sort of transition chapter, but next chapter we get to see them really start to adjust. I'm so excited to finally get to this point!