Jack awoke in a fog.
Or rather, he half awoke. The world felt very much unreal, like he were trapped in a sort of waking dream. He was too chilled, too achy, too uncomfortable to slip back under, but too heavy and dazed and foggy to come to full awareness.
The bit of the world he was aware of most was that it smelled of Pack, of family and safety and comfort. But the way his body hurt, and shivered, did not feel like safety. There were soft murmurs of voices, familiar voices that calmed him even as he whined, too uncomfortable to lie quiet and too out of it to censor his displeasure or quiet his whimpers and protests.
There were hands, gentle and familiar, stroke his hair. One hand rested for a moment against his forehead, too cold, his skin feeling oversensitive and tight and he whined again and shivered and tried to pull away. The hand had no trouble following, but a moment later it left of its own accord. There were more voices, barely coherent words that he didn't even try to make sense of. He couldn't seem to stop shivering, even as he felt a blanket pulled over him, and it was exhausting and his ribs ached deep inside.
Someone pulled him up and that hurt, but is a distant sort of way, and a cup was held to his lips and water poured into his mouth and he discovered his throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper when he swallowed. The water was welcome and soothing and cool, which was funny because he felt so chilled but inside his throat felt like a furnace and the cool was welcome there.
The cup was taken away and he was laid down again and he felt like he were floating.
He didn't know how long it was when a cup was offered to him again, but this time instead of water the pungent odor of something medicinal hit him even before it was poured on his tongue. It was bitter and horrid and he tried to turn away, coughing when it only half made it down his throat.
"Come on, Jack," a voice said soothingly, "Try…for me?"
And that wasn't fair because he didn't want the medicine, but when the cup was moved back to his lips he allowed it, and he was rewarded with fingers in his hair, and then after a cup of warm tea to wash away the taste.
Someone familiar and comfortable was holding him so carefully, so gently, and someone was singing a soft lullaby, and this time when he slid down towards sleep, all the aches and chills faded and let him fall until he was asleep.
Jane sat next to him, watching as his breathing slowly evened out, the soft whimpers of discomfort he doubtless hadn't even realized he was making silencing as he drifted off. She ran her fingers through his hair, desperate to touch, to comfort, and not daring to try anywhere else in case she accidently hurt him worse. She didn't know how Michael managed to hold him, but he did, supporting him so he could lie without the worst of his bruises or welts touching the bed. The children sang, wanting to help and not knowing any other way.
His hair was soft beneath her fingers, the skin beneath unnervingly warm from his rising fever. The children still sang even after it was clear he was asleep, their expressions of concern far too old for their faces. They should really be sending them out, letting them play, but Jane couldn't stand the thought of sending any of her pack from her sight, and she didn't think the children would go even if she tried.
The doctor had been and tutted over the rising temperature but only said it was to be expected and told them what medicines he needed to combat it. It still wasn't quite alarming enough that he thought a hospital necessary. Or perhaps he just thought a hospital wouldn't be any more help.
"He needs his pack around him to give him strength," was the doctor's opinion on the matter.
The doctor had said that about Kate too. It was no wonder the children looked so solemn.
Michael had taken them aside that morning to explain, or as aside as he could without taking them from the room, which Jane wasn't keen on allowing yet. She only begrudgingly allowed them to go one at a time for the toilet or to fetch a needed object, like Gillie. Ellen, being an adult and not an omega, had a bit more freedom and was able to go make them all breakfast. At any rate, Michael took the children to a far corner, where Jane could still hear all they said and watch over them.
Michael tried to think of how to explain without giving too many details. He wanted them to understand that Uncle Jack was hurt, but he didn't want to give them nightmares about the fact that someone had hurt him. Badly. Deliberately. But it was hard to get around that point without outright lying. And the children were smart. They had already guessed most of it.
"A wicked alpha beat him…like in Cinderella," Annabel said, before Michael could even think of where to start. Michael and Jane didn't contradict her. If she needed to see it like a story to process it, then all the better.
"Is Aunt Jane going to kill the wicked alpha?" John wanted to know. This was a logical leap to make, considering that was what the Prince of the story did to Cinderella's abusers. Grimm could be…well…grim, sometimes, and didn't shy away from the realities of the deep instincts inherent in alphas or omegas or even betas.
His question was a hard one to answer, at least for Michael. How to explain the complexities of the situation? On the one hand, he didn't want his children imagining their aunt as a killer. On the other hand, he didn't want them imagining that any of the adults in their pack would allow Jack to be hurt without repercussions.
It was simple for Jane to answer and she did it for him. "Yes."
If Michael thought this would shock or horrify the children, he thought like an adult and not a child. Children accept the death of villains as a matter of course, and are untroubled by the severity or finality of such justice. So, far from looking disturbed or scared, they nodded their heads in agreement.
"Good," said Georgie. And, not unaffected by the same instincts governing the adults, he added, "Then he can't hurt any of us ever again."
Michael felt like he should be saying something more, perhaps curtailing some of his children's bloodlust or at least directing their thoughts in a more positive direction. He couldn't seem to find the words, though. It didn't help that he agreed with the sentiment.
That was around when Jack started to stir. He didn't seem to awaken, not entirely, and Jane started to fret, on edge and having gotten almost no sleep the entire night. It was soon all too clear that his temperature had risen, and Jane struggled between her need to call for the doctor right away, and her need to keep every member of her pack in the room.
The doctor solved the issue by arriving of his own accord. Ellen was allowed to open the door only after Jane had a chance to look out the window and make sure the visitor was a friend. Then Ellen took the children from the room so the doctor could do his examination so long as they stayed together, with Ellen, and the front door locked. Jane was a bit tense over it.
"And you need to rest, too," the doctor had told her, after he'd seen to Jack and helped him as well as he could. "Is there another alpha you trust who can help to guard your pack?"
Jane, tired and edgy and cross, growled at him. Michael, who had at least gotten some sleep, was more inclined to respond reasonably.
"Doesn't Jack have an alpha among his leerie pack?" he asked. Jane growled at this too. She didn't like being reminded that Jack wasn't entirely hers…and that it was entirely her own fault that he wasn't more hers. Michael was not the least bit cowed by her response, but continued on with his idea. "We should send word to the leeries anyway. Just imagine if he had been hurt, or gotten sick, and they kept him and never even tried to tell us about it?"
"He was hurt, and they didn't tell us," Jane answered, but she knew she was being unreasonable even as she said it.
"And they'll need to know he won't be able to light the lamps," Michael pointed out. The doctor, who was listening all the while, felt confident enough in the absence of further aggression from Jane to speak again.
"Bringing in pack mates from beyond the family Pack is a good way to lessen the burden," he pointed out. "So long as none of them are complete strangers to you. You all need to take care of each other, too. You'll do no good to Jack if you fall ill from overstressing yourself."
Then the doctor left again, after checking on Jack one last time and finding him incoherent and fevered but not dangerously so.
"It's to be expected that he will be groggy, between the pain medication and the injuries themselves. He needs rest, quiet, and for his pack mates to keep close. If his fever rises any further, call me back. I can be here in five minutes, if need be."
After he left, and after Jack had his medicine and had fallen back into sleep, Michael reminded Jane of the leeries.
"And what about your SPRUCE friends?" he added. "Is there an alpha among them you'd trust?"
Jane wanted to say that she would have trusted Kate. She would have trusted Bert. She would have trusted Father. All alphas who were no longer available. She would even have trusted Mary Poppins, and she wasn't actually an alpha. Sometimes, Jane thought she secretly was a sort of alpha…but also she was a sort of omega…and those two halves met in the middle and she became a beta by default.
Jane couldn't say any of that, though, especially the bit about Kate. So instead she huffed, then begrudgingly stated, "The leeries he lives with can join us."
"What about the alpha?" Michael asked.
"He doesn't live with Jack, now does he? Anyway…he didn't stop Jack from being hurt so he can't be much of an alpha."
Jane didn't stop Jack from being hurt either, but it would have taken either a braver, or stupider, man than Michael to point this out. Anyway, he rather thought his sister already knew and was destroying herself on the inside over it and she didn't need him to make it worse.
And if Jane didn't feel comfortable inviting in a potential rival for her omega, Michael couldn't blame her for that either.
Actually finding a way to tell the leeries in question proved difficult. Jack's flat didn't have a telephone, and even if it did, it was unlikely the leeries would be there so late into the morning.
In theory, they knew a few places the leeries might have gone to and could go look for them.
There was no way Jane was allowing anyone in her pack, especially a child or an omega, to go off on their own when there was a dangerous alpha about somewhere in London.
In the end they were saved the trouble of working out how to go about it when Angus arrived at their door. After the same process Jane had performed to allow the doctor, Angus was allowed entry.
"I'm here to check on Jack," said the leerie to Michael, who had been the one to answer.
"How did you know he was here?" asked John, who had followed (to Jane's annoyance, but there was no way for her to draw him back without leaving Jack, and she didn't really see Angus as a threat).
"I followed him yesterday," Angus answered. "We knew he was too sore to work, but he's a stubborn one. This was the easiest way to get him to his pack when he was refusing to go. I knew you'd take him in as soon as you all saw the state he was in. And if he tried to run, I was ready to nab him and drag him back. I saw the doctor leave. Is he that bad off? He said it was just his eye."
"He lied," Michael said, and he invited Angus further into the house, shutting and locking the front door behind him.
"Uncle Jack doesn't lie," John protested as they made their way to the guestroom that had become a sort of nesting room for the pack.
"Jack will lie through his teeth if he's trying to protect someone," Angus answered, and then he paused at the threshold, an outsider peering into a family space.
"Come in," called Jane, approving of his respect, and Angus did so, slowly and keeping his neck bared towards Jane in a submissive stance. He stumbled slightly when he got close enough to Jack to clearly see how he was wounded (or at least as much as wasn't covered by blankets and clothes).
Without Michael to hold him, Jack had been rolled on his side, his bad wrist on top. In fact, all Angus could really see was the horrible bruising on his face and the way his wrist was bound, and perhaps just the hint of a bruise peeking out from under his shirt, but that was clearly enough to disturb the young omega. It didn't help that, even asleep, Jack's expression was tense, as though he were in pain.
"A wicked alpha beat him," Georgie told Angus, in case the leerie needed all the pertinent details. "Aunt Jane is going to kill him."
"How bad…" Angus started to ask while staring at Jack, but then his eyes slid towards the children and he trailed off. To Michael and Jane's surprise, it was Annabel who answered the unfinished question.
"Quite bad, I think," she said. "The doctor put bandages all over his back, and he said he didn't think the wrist was broken but it might still be sprained, and anyway he wants to keep it wrapped, and Uncle Jack got a fever and he cried when he was awake."
Angus made a sort of distress noise in response to this information while the other adults stared at Annabel in astonishment.
"How…we sent you from the room," Michael said, frowning (and Jane had hated having the children out of the room, but she had hated more letting them see everything as the doctor undid the bandages and looked Jack over a second time).
"I saw the bandages myself when you helped Uncle Jack sit up," Annabel pointed out. "And you talked with the doctor when we were in here. And anyway, we all heard him crying. And we can see it's bad, or he wouldn't still be sleeping."
"My children are too smart by a half," Michael said, part aghast and part proud and entirely fond. "You can come closer, Angus. We know you're his pack too."
"He's ours now," Georgie added, wanting to be sure the leerie knew were things stood, "But we don't mind sharing."
"Georgie!" Michael admonished.
"Oh don't scold the boy," said Ellen as she came in, having only just finished cleaning up after breakfast. "He's only saying what you're all thinking."
"I've no intention of stealing Jack away from you," Angus told Georgie with great seriousness. Then he approached the bed.
Jane watched him approach, rather surprised to find she really didn't mind the omega's presence. Before, the idea of anyone not Pack coming into the room had set her on edge, but now that Angus was here, he smelled familiar, soothing even. His scent was a part of Jack's scent, and vice versa.
"Come on, then," said Michael. "Omega bonding cuddle."
"And what about me, then?" Jane asked.
"You are supposed to sleep now," Michael answered. "We can cuddle you too, while you do."
"And what about us?" Annabel asked.
"Honorary omegas until proven otherwise," Michael answered. Of course, he had his suspicions of which of his children would prove to be an omega, and which an alpha, and which was most likely to be a beta…but they wouldn't really know until puberty hit, unless they wanted to perform invasive and unnecessary (and therefore expensive) testing to find out, which almost no one did.
"And betas?" asked Ellen.
"You're half omega then, and perhaps you'll be alpha enough that Jane will sleep for us," Michael decided.
"Half omega indeed," Ellen answered, not at all impressed with this answer. But she joined them anyway.
Angus hesitated, and not just because this wasn't his Pack.
"I really should be telling the others the news," he said. But he clearly wanted to stay.
"Just for an hour or so," Michael said, who saw the longing in Angus's eyes, the need, and knew he wasn't ready to leave yet. Angus didn't answer, but he didn't leave, so everyone supposed he agreed.
Michael took his old place, holding Jack. It wasn't the most comfortable position, as Jack was warm enough to be uncomfortable to hold onto, and besides that it was awkward finding a way to do it without hurting him. But Michael felt better holding him and did it anyway. Jane lay on his other side. Angus didn't dare come between them, so settled on being at Michael's other side. Georgie, with the impudence of a child, clambered up between Jack and Jane, and Jane indulged him and held him, comforted by being able to hold someone in her pack even if it wasn't Jack. Annabel and John settled in a comfortable heap at her other side, and Ellen settled herself next to the bed in a chair with a bit of knitting to work on.
Jane still didn't sleep, but she did manage to relax, at least an iota, having her Pack close.
It would be nice if there was another alpha to share the burden. But for now, this would have to be enough.