Heath was sprawled out on their father's favored Chesterfield, his normally polite, but guarded expression now lax and more youthful in sleep. He hadn't lasted more than a few minutes after coming in for the night before falling prey to exhaustion.
"Kid's gonna work himself to death at the rate he's been going." Nick huffed, easing Heath's boots off his feet with a gentleness that belied his tone.
Jarrod considered his brother's words, taking a moment to pour them both a drink.
"I suppose that he feels like he has a lot to prove." He said quietly, handing Nick his glass and then taking a sip of his own.
Nick's face twisted into something fiercely protective.
"Yeah, well he's wrong."
A/N A Chesterfield is a Victorian era type leather sofa.