Thanks to everyone who read and to Ghostwriter, Callisto's Moon, and MelsieR for reviewing.

Alex still hadn't said anything, and since Jamie wasn't about to be the first one to open his mouth he kept his eyes on the cold pack resting on his wrist and pretended that this wasn't the most awkward car ride ever. And that was saying something considering that Alex had found him cold and half-soaked in a bus stop the first time he'd taken him home.

He was going to be grounded forever, that much was pretty guaranteed, and his fingers were probably going to fall off from writing book reports. And his wrist hurt. Not as much as before the cold pack and the bandage—although he still thought that Alex should have just put the bandage on it himself and saved them lots of time and inconvenient run-ins with Isaac at the emergency room—but still some. Dr. Beecham had said that Alex should give him some ibuprofen for the swelling, but he hadn't said it to Alex himself, and again Jamie wasn't about to be the one to start talking.

Alex didn't say anything until the car was parked back in the garage, and then he sighed as he hit the button to shut the door behind them. "Kiddo, I don't know about you, but I'm tired, and I get the feeling that this is going to be a long talk."

Not if Jamie had any say in it. Although he probably wouldn't. Why had they had to go to the stupid hospital? Or why did whichever of Isaac's stupid coworkers that had been have to trip and end up in the hospital right then?

"You know I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, right?" Alex asked. "Not on purpose, no matter what."

"Yeah."

"Then do you think we could hold off on this conversation until tomorrow morning after we've both had some time to get some sleep? Or, I guess a better question would be, if we hold off on this conversation until tomorrow will you be able to sleep? By which I mean in your bed, without nightmares, all of that?"

"I'll be fine," Jamie said, fumbling with the door handle. It had been one stupid freak out one time, and he didn't want to talk about that either.

"Are you sure?" Alex climbed out of the car as well. "If you'd rather talk now, we can."

"Tomorrow's fine." Or never was pretty okay with him too, but he already knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Okay. Go get ready for bed and I'll be there in a minute."

Jamie wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he brushed his teeth and got changed quickly, leaving the cold pack on the bedside table after he was in his sweatsuit.

Alex knocked lightly on the door a few minutes after he'd curled under the blankets. "May I come in?"

"Yeah."

"Ibuprofen and water," Alex said as he entered.

Jamie sat up again and held out his hand for the tablets and water. Of course Alex hadn't needed another doctor to tell him about that.

"Other hand for the water."

"Oh. Right." He switched them quickly, take the pills in his right hand and the glass of water in his left. That was going to be annoying until his wrist healed up.

"It should kick in fairly quickly, but if your wrist hurts enough to keep you from going to sleep you come get me, all right?"

Jamie swallowed both pills and took a long sip of water rather than answering. He'd wake Alex up about when hell froze over, especially if it were for something as stupid as his stupid arm. Doubly especially since he'd already done it unintentionally once tonight leading to this whole mess in the first place. He knew there was a reason no one liked peas.

"Jamie? Got it?"

"Yeah, I heard." And it was still never going to happen.

"All right. I'll see you in the morning."

Coffee. Jamie blinked and then yawned. And then brought a hand up to rub his eyes which reminded him that his wrist hurt. Some more blinking and yawning and he remembered last night, at which point he debated how long it would take Alex to come looking for him if he decided to spend the morning hiding under his blankets.

The smell of bacon joined the smell of coffee a few minutes later, and he groaned as his stomach grumbled. It wasn't fair. Especially since if Alex was making bacon he was probably making eggs or French toast or pancakes too, and there hadn't exactly been a lot to eat at the party last night. But if he went out there that whole talking thing would happen.

He tried to ignore his stomach since it wasn't like he'd never gone hungry before, but there was a light tap at the door before too long anyway, and he sighed. "I'm awake."

"Good. Breakfast is about ready. Come set the table."

Jamie sighed and got up. Life sucked sometimes.

Alex was in front of the stove flipping pancakes when he got to the kitchen, and since there was plenty of coffee in the pot he made a beeline for the mugs.

"Other arm, Jaim," Alex said as he reached up into the cupboard.

Right. Stupid wrist.

Alex didn't say anything else so he poured himself a cup—it was kind of awkward left-handed, but at least he didn't spill anything—and then set the table. Which was also awkward with only one hand, but at least when he was in and out of the kitchen Alex couldn't pin him down for that talk.

Of course, there was no way that that happy situation was going to last, and when they sat down to eat he suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. Not even for bacon.

"Jamie? Is your wrist hurting?"

"It's okay."

"Have a couple bites and then you can have a couple more ibuprofen. It's not horrible to take on an empty stomach, but it'd be better if you got some food in you food first."

Jamie nodded, but when his stomach was twisting it was hard to make himself eat, and after another forced bite he went back to pushing the food around his plate.

Alex sighed. "All right. Give me your plate; I'll stick it in the fridge until after we're done."

"I'm not not hungry, I'm just..." he shrugged.

"I know. The bottle of ibuprofen is on my desk. Go grab it while I put the food away."

Jamie did as he said, mostly because he couldn't think of a good reason not to, and he wasn't surprised when Alex handed him a glass of water and took a seat at one end of the couch.

"Two, Jamie. And then sit down and tell me what actually happened last night."

Jamie took advantage of the childproof cap to fumble for a little bit, but eventually he didn't have any more excuses, and he settled for slumping down at the other end and picking at the bandage on his wrist. "Nothing happened. I just slipped, that's all."

"You know full well that's not what I meant, Jamie. Or not all that I meant. You asked if you could spend the night at your friend's. Can you explain how that turned into going to a party?"

"I don't know."

"Really? Because I kind of doubt you were teleported there."

Jamie sighed. "Isaac's Cory's older brother. He moved out a couple weeks ago, and last night was his housewarming party. Apartment-warming party. Whatever. So we went."

"Did you know that there was going to be a party when you asked about spending the night at Cory's?"

Jamie shrugged.

"Try again," Alex ordered.

"I guess."

"Meaning you did. You know damn well you're too young to be going to parties where there's alcohol being served."

Jamie couldn't help scowling, even if that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do when Alex was starting to getting louder. He knew Alex thought that, but he'd been going to parties where people were drinking for years and he'd always managed just fine.

"This isn't open for negotiation, Jamie. Not now. When you're eighteen you can decide for yourself, but you're still a few years away."

"I decided for myself before," he muttered.

"And that was between you and your previous foster parents, but it's not something I agree with and as long as you're living here the answer is and will be no. Especially since even if I didn't realize it before, both of those names were involved with the smoking last time, weren't they? Was there marijuana at this party too?"

"I didn't smoke," Jamie said, scowl deepening. "Not anything. And I'd never drink."

"I take it that means yes."

"Probably, I don't know. It's not like I took a survey."

"Excuse me? I suggest you watch your tone, young man."

"It's not a big deal, okay? I wouldn't touch it anyway." Some of Isaac's friends did, sure, but it wasn't like it was cocaine or whatever.

Alex took a deep breath. "While I'm very glad you didn't, that doesn't make putting yourself in that kind of situation any more acceptable. And it certainly doesn't make the lying any better either."

"I didn't lie!"

"Really? Because at a minimum I seem to recall asking if you and your friend had plans."

Jamie scowled again. "Well, if I'd told you you would have said no right then."

"You're absolutely right, and since you already knew what my answer would have been it doesn't help your argument very much, does it?"

Jamie crossed his arms over his chest and went back to focusing on the couch cushions.

"So after you decided to lie and go to a party you know damn well you shouldn't have been at—all of which mean you're very grounded, for the record—exactly what happened to your wrist?"

"Nothing. Or nothing except what I said before, anyway. I was at the party, I got tired and decided to leave, and I slipped on the stupid tiles in Isaac's kitchen where somebody'd spilled something. That's all."

"And none of your friends could tear themselves away long enough to give you a ride home after you fell? I'm assuming the party part is why you didn't just call."

Jamie would never in a billion years call Alex and ask for a ride home from anywhere, especially in the middle of the night. It wasn't...he knew better than to bother people like that.

"Jamie?"

"I didn't ask them. I mean, it hurt, but not that bad since I could move it and everything."

"And if you'd been on a callout where someone had fallen and twisted his wrist like that? Would you tell them that they were okay to ride a motorcycle?"

"That's different."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"You're smarter than that, Jamie, and I expect you to act like it."

"Well, I was smart enough not to ask anyone who's had a couple to drive me home, aren't I?" Jamie snapped. He'd needed to get home, his bike had been right there, and he'd made it just fine so what did it matter?

Alex's jaw tightened. "Does 'anyone' include the kids your age?"

Jamie was smart enough not to answer that too.

"Go get your keys," Alex ordered after a moment.

"What?"

"Like I said, you're very grounded, but you're also not taking your motorcycle anywhere for a while either."

"What? That's not fair! I didn't meant to sprain my wrist!"

"You're not losing your motorcycle because you sprained your wrist Jamie, but even if you hadn't lied and gone to a party that you know you shouldn't have been at, you wouldn't be riding your motorcycle with one wrist in a brace anyway. As it is you can count yourself lucky that being grounded for the next three weeks and losing the use of your motorcycle for as long is all you're getting because if you didn't have a sprained wrist you'd be writing me a book report a week too. And if anything like this ever happens again you can expect to be grounded for a whole month, do I make myself clear?"

"But—"

"Do you want to make it a month this time? Keys, Jamie. Now."