Felt like writing a small fragment from a much larger Minecraft AU that I've been working on. More information can be found here, on my tumblr: pekoeboo dot tumblr dot com /tagged/mcau (exchange "dot" for periods and erase spaces - ffnet doesn't like links, it seems)

This snippet in particular takes place once Khalan is rescued from the Woodland Mansion, after being held captive there for months. Just wanted to write some good ol' self-indulgent hurt/comfort, you know? (Also, my tumblr friend (laughingmist)'s character Melvin is mentioned here a few times, since he's also involved in the overall story, but he doesn't make an appearance within this scene.)

"Hey, uh... how're you feeling?"

The soft inquiry was just loud enough to pull me out of my fitful rest. Cracking open a tired eye, I could barely make out Jimmy's blurry figure a mere inches away from my bedside. His large, ocean-blue eyes were the first thing to come into clear view. From that moment, I quickly pieced together that he was probably visiting me on Melvin's behalf, as he had done so before whenever Melvin left the cabin to gather supplies.

Upon closer inspection, I realized that the poor boy looked absolutely exhausted - both emotionally and physically. I felt a pang of guilt cross my heart at the sight.

He had likely gone without sleep for yet another night, all because he was worried about me.

I didn't have time to mull over this unfortunate concept, nor did I have time to respond to his earlier question. Instead, Jimmy took my silence as a cue to speak up once again.

"Did the healing potion help at all?" He pressed. A deep crease planted itself between his eyebrows as his expression hardened with concern. "Please, Khalan. I need to know so I can confirm that I got the proper ratios measured out for each ingredient; to make sure that the brewing procedure was nothing short of one hundred-percent accurate."

I sank back into the pillow and let out a quiet sigh. There were too many English words in that sentence to process at once. While my head wasn't pounding with the same level of intensity as it had been before, I found it was still difficult for me to focus on - and translate - what Jimmy was saying in that moment.

"It is... better," I managed, unable to hide a slight grimace when I attempted to sit up. Every muscle in my bruised body was still extremely sore, I felt horribly feverish from malnutrition, and the sharp pain in my dislocated hip was quick to remind me that it was just as damaged as ever. At least the potion had helped with the migraine. Of that, I was thankful.

Jimmy, however, immediately picked up on the fact that I was trying my best to mask the worst of the pain that still lingered. His tiny shoulders dropped, and he pressed his lips firmly together in a mixture of defeat and quiet contemplation.

"But not good enough, apparently."

I felt my heart sink at the clear frustration that showed through his tone. In truth, I didn't know what to tell him. He was doing everything he could to help, yet my current situation insisted on making things difficult. Not just for him, but for Melvin as well.

Swallowing hard, I reached out to grab his hand, trying to provide some form of comfort. I felt his small fingers wrap around mine in a tight grip almost instantly. He clearly wanted that physical contact to keep him grounded, but never would have admitted it.

Unfortunately, anything I wanted to say to him was difficult for my mind to translate properly. The sentences only sounded broken and strange when I mentally tried to form them, so I eventually gave up and allowed myself to slip into my native tongue.

"You're doing your best, my boy," I told him, hoping that my tone wouldn't give away just how much it bothered me to see him like this. "But please... try not to stress yourself so much over me. I'm sure I'll be back to myself in no time."

The words left my mouth, but I wasn't sure if I even believed what I was saying. Certainly at some point, the pain would die down and the sickness would let up - but of course the physical wounds would heal. Emotional wounds, however...?

No, those would not be healing any time soon. If I was being honest with myself, it was difficult to imagine that I would ever truly be myself again. Not after what had happened.

And to my dismay, it seemed like Jimmy was thinking the very same. His gaze dropped, and it was obvious that he was fighting off a sudden wave of strong emotion. The grip he held on my hand only grew stronger. I could feel his hand beginning to tremble in tandem with the slight quiver of his lower lip.

"The stress is... not on purpose." Jimmy was straining to reply to me in Arabic, even though I knew he struggled with it. He didn't have to, I never asked him to... but apparently he felt it was necessary to push himself into doing such a thing for my sake.

"You're hurting," he firmly stated. Tears began to well up in his eyes, and I couldn't help but notice that he refused to make eye contact. This bothered him. Immensely.

"And... And I...? I don't..."

He paused, closing his eyes and drawing in a shuddering breath. But then, without warning, a tiny sob broke through the silence.

I knew it was coming, yet it still crushed my heart to watch this child crumble under the weight of his own fears. Jimmy quickly pressed a wrist to his eyes to try and catch the tears that suddenly spilled down his face, as if he had been completely caught off-guard by his inability to keep those emotions at bay.

"I want to believe you'll get better, but it's hard!" he sobbed, in English this time. The poor boy's voice was rising with intensity and panic with each word that spilled from his lips. "I just—! Everyone keeps— I d-don't know what to do, everyone I care about ends up dead, and I can't—! I don't...!"

Parental instinct arrested every facet of my heart and mind. Despite the sharp pain that shot through my body, I forced myself to sit up and lift Jimmy onto the bed and into my arms, pressing him securely against my aching chest to hold him tight. His hands frantically grasped at my shirt for a brief moment before latching on, as if to prevent me from going anywhere. I could feel his entire body shuddering alongside his broken, painful sobs.

A lump caught in my throat. My chest tightened, and that stabbing pain brought tears to my eyes, making it difficult to breathe. A familiar churning sensation made its way into my stomach, teasing me with nausea just as it always did in these tense, emotional situations. Yet all I could do at that moment was hold Jimmy close, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to soothe his panicked state.

"Please don't leave me again, please," he choked out, burying his face into my shoulder.

It took me a few seconds to make the connection that my unfortunate physical condition seemed to be some kind of specific emotional trigger for the boy; making him believe that, because I was in pain, I would inevitably wind up dead as a result. The reasoning wasn't entirely sound by any conventional logic, but it made sense why Jimmy would behave in this way.

He had suffered through far more heartache than any child of his age ever should. And though the amount of death and tragedy he had experienced in such a short amount of time was of no fault of his own, he seemed to have the terrible habit of putting the blame for these horrific things on top of himself, regardless.

Perhaps he felt like my prolonged recovery was his fault somehow? Perhaps his trauma-fueled mentality spurred on the notion that his mere existence would bring about my demise? Despite whatever wild thoughts were racing through that highly intelligent – but equally naïve – mind of his, I knew I had to say something to comfort him.

"Shhh... it is okay. I am not leaving." The words felt awkward and tumbled out of my mouth like a heavy bag of stones; far from the warm, soothing sound that I was aiming for. However, just as Jimmy had attempted to accommodate me earlier by speaking in Arabic, I felt like it was my turn to do the same for him by forcing myself to speak that uncomfortable, clunky language known as English.

"Do not worry," I reassured him in the calmest tone possible. "I will not be leaving you. Never again."

To my surprise, Jimmy's cries slowly began to subside after hearing the words. He was still extremely shaken up, sniffling and shuddering in my arms, but his choked sobs had given way to quiet whimpers and unwanted hiccups.

I finally stopped that continuous rocking, now that he had calmed down enough. My aching body truly needed the break. As much as I desperately wanted nothing more than to lie back down and rest, I refused to do so until I was certain that Jimmy would be alright.

A few minutes of silence passed between us. Wiping his eyes, Jimmy drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, as if to simultaneously release what was left of those strong emotions that had been tormenting his poor heart for some time now. He refused to lift his head from my shoulder, but I could feel his body relaxing ever so slightly in my embrace.

"Promise...?" His quiet, muffled voice barely reached my ears. Without even a second of hesitation, I nodded in affirmation and instinctively planted a small kiss atop his head.

"Mm. I Promise."

Another deep sigh, though this one appeared to be one borne of relief for once. I assume Jimmy had been satisfied with my response, as he finally pulled back after a few moments; rubbing his eyes dry.

It seemed like the terrible exhaustion that had been plaguing him for days had caught up to him at last. I found myself hoping that he would be able to get the much-needed sleep he deserved, even though the sun was still hanging high in the sky. A quiet nap would certainly do us both some good.

"Sorry for uh... for bothering you with. Um. All of this," he sheepishly said, his voice thin and cracked from all of the crying he had done. Yet again, he couldn't seem to bring himself to look me in the eye as he slipped off of the bed. "I d-didn't mean to freak out like that. I don't know what happened."

Before I could tell him that it was okay and that I wasn't upset with him for reacting in the way he did, Jimmy promptly shifted his focus and reached out to gently coax me into lying back down.

"But that doesn't matter," he quickly added. "You really should be resting."

I must have given away just how much it hurt to move at all, as I saw the boy's puffy, tired eyes flash with heightened concern the moment I impulsively sucked in a sharp breath.

"Oh-! I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"It is alright," I countered, carefully easing myself onto my back once again. Unfortunately, I could hear the pain in my own voice, no matter how much I tried to hide it. Though the soreness in my body had flared up as a result of that movement, I noticed that, surprisingly, the nausea from earlier had dissipated a great deal.

I felt a hand press against my forehead. Jimmy's brows furrowed in disappointment when he realized that I still felt just as hot and feverish as before. He let out a frustrated huff of air and shook his head, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout.

"Agh, for the love of— You're still burning up."

A spark of urgency came over him in seconds, seemingly overtaking the fatigue that he had been feeling just moments before. Holding up a finger as if to say, "wait," he began to inch his way backward into the other room.

"I can get you some cold towels, and– and some water? Maybe some soup?" he stammered, almost stumbling over his own feet as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Gimme just a second, I'll be right back—"

"Jimmy."

My tired voice was enough to stop him in his tracks. I let out a soft sigh, trying to find the right words to say in order to express my growing concern.

"You need sleep," I told him. "No more worry, just rest."

"But... you—"

"I am fine. But you have too much stress and need the sleep. Please rest."

Jimmy stood in the doorway, his gaze dropping to the hardwood floor as he silently contemplated my words. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and I could only assume that in his mind, he was weighing his options as well.

I hoped that he would recognize just how tired he truly was, and allow himself to take the break he needed. But within that pregnant pause, I wasn't entirely sure what course of action he would take.

"Mel isn't back yet," he slowly reminded me. His voice had dropped down to a near whisper. "I'm the only one here right now. If... if I fall asleep, and you need me, what if I don't hear you?"

It made perfect sense for him to be concerned about such a thing. Given his emotionally unstable nature, the idea of leaving me alone was more than enough to ignite fear in his fragile, damaged heart. But there was nothing for him to worry about. Though I wasn't feeling as great as I could've been, I certainly wasn't dying, either.

"I will be fine, my boy." I bit back a sigh once the words left my mouth. The tone of my voice had sounded monotonous and dry – much to my disappointment. I had tried my best to sound reassuring, but my own fatigue was showing through a great deal.

"It is you who gives me worry," I quietly added. "You are tired and scared. Do not be pretending that you are not."

Jimmy hung his head, not even attempting to argue with me like he normally would. However, after a few more moments of nervous silence and deep thought, he timidly spoke up again; offering his own solution to the very problem that he had initially presented.

"Can I...? Um. Can I stay with you?" He asked, but then suddenly held up his palms in defense. "Just— ah. Just until Mel gets back, I mean. If that's alright...?"

There was no possible way that I could refuse such a request. With a small nod, I gently pat the space beside me on the bed to invite him over. A tiny, grateful smile came to Jimmy's face, and he wasted no time in crawling back onto the bed, though he was careful not to disturb me too much while he nestled comfortably under the blankets.

"If you need anything, let me know, okay?" His sleepy voice was accented with a soft yawn as he sank down into the pillow. It looked like he was already falling asleep, whether he was aware of it or not.

"Hhh... G'night, dad," Jimmy absentmindedly mumbled. "Love you."

Those few, simple words caught me entirely by surprise. While it wasn't clear if he truly meant to say what he did in his drowsy state, I found that it still left a profound impact on me, regardless. I sat in stunned silence; fighting back a sudden wave of emotion as the boy slept peacefully by my side.

My heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of love and pride at the realization that Jimmy had openly referred to me as his "dad." In the time we had spent together back at the village, before fate had plans to separate us, I had done my best to fill in as a parental role for the boy... despite feeling like I was doing it all wrong.

It was difficult to believe that I had made such a positive impression on him. I didn't think he would ever fully accept me as a father figure in his life, yet I felt nothing but gratitude and a sense of humility at the thought. In truth, while I didn't deserve him, we still needed each other. And I was so blessed to have him here – safe, sound, and by my side once again.

"I love you too," I whispered back, finally allowing myself to succumb to fatigue and drift off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.