Thanks to everyone who read and to MelsieR for reviewing.
"Hey, Jamie," Alex greeted, shifting his briefcase so he could take off his coat as he came in from the garage. "How was school?" Judging by the faintly murderous look Jamie shot him from his seat at the kitchen table, not particularly well, and he felt his lips twitch. "A lot of fun, huh?"
"It was busy," Jamie returned. "Everybody assigned homework since apparently we're all supposed to be so well rested." Another scowl. "And math is stupid, and my head hurts."
"Math is not stupid," Alex returned, not for the first time, although he offered Jamie a sympathetic smile for the rest. A headache explained why Jamie was at the kitchen table rather than stretched out on the couch or the floor in front of it as he usually preferred; short of Alex's desk it had the best lighting in the house. He moved to look over Jamie's shoulder for a moment, hanging his coat over one of the other chairs. "You don't work tonight, right?"
"Nah, tomorrow and Thursday."
"Okay, then, I'll take a look at it with you after dinner. All right?"
Jamie nodded and pushed himself to his feet, following Alex into his room. It was a little unusual when Alex hadn't specifically told him to, but he'd also never forbidden Jamie from coming in.
He took off his jacket and turned to hang it up in his closet as Jamie found a spot against his desk.
"My social worker came to school today," Jamie said after a minute.
Alex paused and turned to look at him. "Does she do that often?" It seemed like those kinds of meetings should be happening wherever Jamie was calling home, not between his classes.
He shrugged. "Sometimes. It's easier for her to find me there when I'm bouncing around since it's one place I'm usually going to be."
"It better be one place you're always going to be," Alex couldn't help but interject. Jamie was a smart kid, math issues notwithstanding, and he didn't need to be skipping classes.
Jamie rolled his eyes but had the sense to correct himself at a pointed look. "Sorry."
"Thank you. So, what did your social worker have to say?" He knew that he should be hoping that she'd found another home for Jamie. The kid needed some stability, and after the scare he'd had a few days ago parents who had some idea of what they were doing would be an improvement too. But he was still calming down after that scare, and Alex didn't like the idea of him being yanked off somewhere new until he was back to himself again.
"Well, they've got a new class starting, but it won't finish until February so they're not likely to have anywhere else to send me until then. I mean, she wants to talk to you, and she might be able to find me a spot in a group home if you don't want to keep—"
"Jamie," Alex interrupted firmly as he started to pick up speed. "What have I told you?" He didn't wait for Jamie to reply. You're welcome to stay here until she finds a new foster family. Unless you want to leave?" A pause. "You're still going to finish that book report either way."
Jamie made a face but shook his head quickly, lips twitching up a little, and Alex nodded and resumed his usual routine.
"Good. Now what's this class that people are starting?"
"Foster parenting classes. For the people who decided to foster kids for their New Year's resolution. Plus a few others, I guess, but mostly it's just them."
Alex put his shoes on their shelf and turned to look at him. "Please tell me that's a joke. People don't actually decide to adopt children for New Year's, right?"
"Foster," Jamie corrected with another quick shake of his head. "Nobody adopts us ever. But yeah, there's always a group signing up around now. Most of them even finish the class and get okayed to have foster kids, although they generally change their minds pretty quick once they actually get stuck with one of us."
Alex echoed his head shake. Not that he had any idea what these classes entailed, but at least when most people made New Year's resolutions it only affected themselves when they failed. He didn't much like the idea of Jamie getting jerked around like that, either. He started to reach for his belt, only to halt at a quick flinch from Jamie. Right. Not the thing to do with him in the room just now. "You're fine to stay here, kiddo, but why don't you go start chopping up some peppers and onions for dinner, and I'll join you in a couple minutes?" he suggested.
Jamie flushed a little but didn't argue as he dipped his head and pushed himself off the desk and towards the door, and Alex waited until he was gone before finishing his routine and then heading out to the kitchen himself.
"What do you think about pork chops to go with the vegetables?" Alex asked, pausing to grab his coat and hang it up correctly. Not that Jamie ever argued about what Alex made for meals, even if he didn't always recognize it, but Alex was trying to remember to include him in cooking a little more. If not right now, Jamie would need to know those kinds of skills in a couple years anyway.
Jamie nodded quickly and would have ceded his spot in front of the cutting board to Alex when Alex returned to the kitchen, but Alex gestured for him to keep chopping and went to dig a couple pork chops out of the freezer himself. He usually bagged them individually, but while he had Jamie, he should probably start doubling them up and save the bags. Maybe tripling; Jamie was good about getting himself snacks now, but he was still young enough to be hungry most of the time. "When you're done, pull down that recipe book on the end and see what matches up under 'pork.'"
It didn't take Jamie long to finish working through the vegetables and tossing them into the pan Alex had put on the stove, but when he had the book in front of him he grimaced and swiped at his forehead again. Alex frowned as he moved up beside him.
"Do you still have a headache?"
"Yeah." He waved it off. "It's fine. It happens sometimes, and it takes a while to wear off after it does. And the writing in that book you gave me is really tiny."
Alex's frown deepened. The book he'd given Jamie was a typical medical text so the print was probably a little smaller than the textbooks Jamie used in high school, but nothing unusual. "Do you get headaches a lot when you read?" He didn't remember hearing anything like that before from Jamie, either with regards to school or the Red Cross books that Jamie was working through at the station. And those definitely didn't have the greatest type.
"Not a lot, just sometimes. It's worse if it's little print. Or if it's boring."
The last was said with a pointed look at Alex, who raised an eyebrow in return. "If you don't like boring reading, you should probably behave, shouldn't you? But come with me, I want to check something." Because he didn't consider pain acceptable as discipline, and there were a couple pretty obvious possibilities for why small print might cause Jamie issues.
Jamie looked at the pork chops Alex had just put in the pan. "Are we allowed to leave those alone?"
"For a few minutes, although not much longer than that if we want to get those spices you just looked up put in. Come on."
Jamie trailed him to the library, and Alex stopped him in the doorway and nodded to the bookshelf directly across the room from them. "What's the title on the book straight in front of you on the top shelf? The hardcover one with the blue spine."
"Alex, I can read."
"I know, Jaim. Humor me."
"The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."
Alex took a quick look at the shelf beside him and then pulled down a book, flipping it to a random page before handing it over, and Jamie was clearly fighting to keep his eye roll to himself as he picked a couple lines and read them.
Alex thanked him and then took that book back and pulled down a second one. "What about this?" This type was small even by his standards, and Jamie groaned and brought the book closer to his face. Much closer than before as his forehead creased, and that was enough for Alex as he took it back before Jamie could strain his eyes further. "Okay, never mind."
"Alex?" Jamie asked, looking back up at him. "I can read it, I swear."
"I know you can, kiddo, your reading abilities were never in question. When was the last time that you saw an optometrist?"
"What?"
"An eye doctor. Do you remember your parents or foster parents or anyone ever taking you? There would probably have been one of those eye charts in the office with the big Es on it like you see in the movies."
Jamie scoffed. "Not likely. My dad never wanted to take me to the doctor ever, and no foster parents waste time on things that aren't actually problems." He snorted. "Heck, they mostly ignore things that are. It's not like I can't see or anything."
"Well, for distance I agree with you. I could barely have read that title from here if I didn't already know what it said. But I think some reading glasses might not be out of the question if you're having to hold books that close and getting headaches. You said that your social worker was going to be calling me at some point?"
"Probably, yeah. She said she wanted to talk to you, anyway."
"Okay, good. I'll ask if there's anything special that needs to happen to get you into an optometrist or if I can just take you to mine, and we'll get your eyes checked. It shouldn't be too hard to get an appointment at this time of year." He put the book back on the shelf and nodded to the door. "Come on, let's go finish dinner and then we'll see about your math homework."