AN: Ok, there will be a short epilogue following this. Thanks for sticking with me!
Chapter Thirteen
About a block from the park, I come to a stop sign. Straight will take me to the base. Left will take me home. I really, really don't want to go to the base. I take the left, deciding I can confine Thor to the bathroom where he can't ruin my floors. Besides, I have a box of Fruit Loops that will go stale long before I eat them all myself.
I set Thor down on the bathroom floor, watching him for a moment to make sure he'll be ok. He immediately starts chewing on the bath mat, so I need a new plan. Easy enough - I'll put him in the bathtub. The sides are too high for him to escape and it'll actually be even easier to clean. I shush Jack's worried inquiries as to how boring it will be for Thor. I'm sure he can solve world peace and contemplate the great mysteries of life or something if he gets over his irrational fear of the spigot.
Jack, with the help of three thick physics textbooks, is able to sit at the table with me to enjoy our dinner. I snicker as he eats, trying to shove heaping spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth and missing. He never outgrew that charming habit. Jack finishes off two bowls and asks for a third, but even I can't sit still from all the sugar, so I won't let him have it. He's disappointed, but he apparently hasn't fully grasped the power of the temper tantrum yet. We settle on the couch; him glued to cartoons, me with my laptop and a pile of notes I never got around to typing up.
It's almost nine when Jack asks me to turn off the cartoons. I'm quick to oblige because they're driving me nuts. It seems like a respectable hour for a kid to go to sleep, but Jack doesn't look tired and I'm not about to have a battle with him over bedtime. It's not like I go to sleep before the wee hours and Jack's not bothering me, so I don't care how late he stays up.
He crawls into my lap and smirks at me as I try to lift him off the keyboard. "I'm bored."
"You could go check on Thor."
"Kay!" He scrambles off me and tears down the all, leaving me to reconstruct we he inadvertently deleted when he climbed on the laptop. Checking on Thor keeps him busy for a half hour. When he comes back, he's moving slower and yawning. The sugar wore off. He climbs up on the couch with me, his droopy eyes barely staying open.
"I think it's time for bed, buddy."
He looks up at me, momentarily shocked awake. "But I'm not-" His words are cut off by a big yawn. "Tired."
I grin. He's just so cute. I'm definitely going to have a little chat with him when he's back to normal. I want one of these to keep. "How about if I read to you?" Luckily, I still have a Christmas gift that I never got around to sending to my nephew. I haven't even had a chance to wrap it.
Jack snuggles into my side as I start to read. I don't even get to the third page before he's sound asleep. I carefully shift him over until he's lying down. His mussed hair is, as always, standing up at all angles. I have to touch it, to smooth it back from his face. I do miss regular Jack, but this is nice. I finally have a chance to take care of him, to protect him. This is the real Jack, the one before all the pain and loss and dark past. This is the sweet, loving person he was supposed to be, would have been, if things had been different. Of course, if things had been different, I never would have met him, but it would be my loss rather than his because he would have been better off.
I'm actually tired myself, which isn't surprising considering the day I've had. I'm not sure what to do with Jack. He looks comfortable right where he is, but he might be scared if he wakes up by himself. I reach for him, planning on carrying him to my room, but his eyes pop right open. Just like Jack to be a light sleeper. I shush him back to sleep and he dutifully closes his eyes. I think I should leave him on the couch and let him rest.
I leave the lights on, knowing it's pretty much instinctive for three year olds to dislike the dark. He's sound asleep once again. He has always looked so sweet and innocent when he's sleeping. I take advantage of the opportunity to press a kiss onto his forehead. I've always wanted to do that. My face breaks into a grin as I crawl into my bed, realizing that because of this afternoon's discussion, I can kiss Jack whenever I want. The thought squashes the twinge of guilt I feel for skipping out on Janet.
It's a little after two when I wake up. My door is standing open like I left it, specifically so I could hear Jack if he needs me. I don't hear anything now, but I figure that must have been what woke me. I go out to the living room to check on him.
My heart stops when I see the empty couch. My mind is racing. There is so much, so very much, dangerous stuff that a baby could get into in my house - included a handgun that I completely forgot about in the kitchen drawer. It's a terrible, guilty fear that sends me there first, immediately locating the gun. Thank God. Now I know that he didn't find that, I scour the room, checking for any signs he hurt himself on anything else. I try every room, panic overwhelming me when I can't find him. My last stop is the bathroom, the panic and sleep-induced haze having erased the existence of Thor from my mind.
I breathe a huge sigh of relief when my eyes fall on Jack. He's curled up asleep in the tub with Thor. Thor is huddled as far away as he can be, shaking in his typically frightened way. I pat Thor on the head and scoop Jack up into my arms. His eyes blink open sleepily. I'm expecting him to tell me that Thor was scared.
But he hugs me tight and tells me something I never expected Jack to admit, regardless of his age. "I was scared."
I squeeze him back. "Why didn't you wake me?"
He looks at me, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't know where you were." He starts crying in earnest and I know I have no choice. Besides, I distinctly remember him crawling into bed with me when I was shrunk and he was afraid of a thunderstorm.
I smooth his hair and shush him again. "Do you want to sleep in my bed?"
He nods and sniffles disconsolately. I feel awful - like I've traumatized him beyond repair. But he seems content enough when I settle him in my bed. I turn out the light and he snuggles against me. I smile happily. I had every intention of having Jack in my bed tonight, so while this is not what I had in mind, at least I wasn't wrong. And we all know how very important it is to my psyche that I'm right.
Normally, I pop right out of bed in the morning. It's not that I'm particularly eager, nor irritatingly chipper as Jack as accused on more than one occasion, it's just that home - my house - isn't really relaxing to me. There's nothing wrong with it per se, but home is much better defined for me as the people around me. There are no people at my house. I feel more at home at a briefing with my teammates and General Hammond at my side.
Today, however, I feel no nagging compulsion to race to work to see my family. None whatsoever. I'm warm and comfortable and snuggled quite close to Jack. Several hours of yesterday were spent with Jack nuzzling my neck, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he's at it again. Of course, yesterday when Jack was nuzzling my neck, his short little legs were barely long enough to reach my waist. At the moment, his legs are tangled with mine and his now considerable weight pressing onto me is enough to make it hard to breathe.
Ok, honestly, what he's doing with his mouth at the moment might well have something to do with why I can't breathe, I'll give you that.
As much as I liked baby Jack, I'm so very, very glad he's grown up once again. And he seems to be enjoying it as well.
He pulls back, smiling his confident, cocky, conceited, well-deserved grin. "Are you up yet, sleepyhead?"
I feel him shift against me and I giggle. "You certainly are."
"Do you always lure little boys to you bed?"
I raise my eyebrows at him. "Do you always try to sleep in bathtubs?" He obviously doesn't have an answer for me since he immediately starts kissing me again.
He's tugging at my shirt, trying to get it off me without removing his lips from mine, when I realize he's wearing normal clothes. I break the kiss long enough to help him with my shirt and ask about his attire. "You weren't wearing that last night, Jack."
He looks sheepish. "No, I had a change of clothes in the truck." He leans down to kiss me again. "I hope none of your neighbors were up at four."
With our collective effort, the rest of our clothes quickly wind up in a messy heap on the floor. Just as things are starting to get interesting, the phone rings. I groan as I glance at the clock. It's a little after seven.
"That's probably Janet. She just got in and realized I never came back and she's going to yell at me."
Jack grins at me; his eyes dancing happily. "Don't answer that." Then he winks. "That's an order."
I laugh as I pull his lips to mine. "Yes, sir."