Time Trap - Chapter Three

Author: Milady Dragon

3 June 2014

London

The sun was just on the horizon by the time Patrick pulled his car into the driveway of his and Alice's house in a quiet cul-de-sac in Battersea. There were lights on in a couple of the other houses on the street; neighbours were up and getting ready for work just as he, Jack, and Clint were getting home from a long night.

The thing was, Patrick would never have wished for a normal life like the one his neighbours had. A normal life would never have gotten him what he had now: friends, family, his Alice and their children, and a job that he loved and knew he'd never retire from, which in his mind was a good thing indeed.

Patrick let them inside. The smell of coffee welcomed him home, and he couldn't help but smile despite how tired he was.

His father-in-law and friend following, he headed toward the kitchen, where his wife awaited them with coffee already poured, looking soft and comfortable in her pyjamas and robe.

Alice Delaware looked at them each in turn before handing out the mugs. "I shouldn't be giving you this," she commented. "Coffee isn't exactly good for getting any sleep."

"You are a goddess among women," Patrick gushed, accepting her offering. "I don't say it enough, but it's true." It was hot and not quite as strong as he usually took it, but he understood Alice's reasons for it.

"Good thing Tad called ahead and said all three of you were coming," she said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "He said it was serious."

Patrick couldn't help it; he leaned next to her, close enough to feel the heat from her body. He soaked it in as if it were the very balm to his soul. He honestly hadn't believed in soulmates until he'd met Alice. "Yeah, it is," he admitted. He knew he could tell her anything and she would be there to support him. Just as she knew she could confide in him and he would be there for her, no matter what.

Her eyes darted to Jack and Clint, and Patrick could tell she was figuring things out. "It must be bad."

"Yeah," Clint said, slumping down onto one of the stools that stood around the central island. He was still a bit pale from the night's revelations, and he cradled the mug between his hands.

Alice looked concerned at his demeanour. "What happened?" She glanced at her father, and then Patrick, as if she could glean it from their expressions.

He told her everything; about the fight in Hyde Park, and of finding the man calling himself Phillip Pendragon and of how much he resembled his dead uncle. Alice's face turned understanding as he continued on, and once the story was done she rested her hand on his arm in support, and then made her way around the island to wrap her arms around Clint, giving him what comfort she could.

Patrick didn't blame her one bit. Yes, he'd been shocked by how much their guest had looked like his uncle, but Clint had taken it even harder. It hadn't just been losing someone he'd cared about; Clint had dated Phil Coulson for nearly a couple of years before distance and missions came between them, and Clint had always regretted losing him to another. But it was also the guilt of leading the raid on the Helicarrier that had led to Uncle Phil's death, before Clint had admitted that he'd made a mistake in letting him go. Seeing Phillip Pendragon had raked up every bit of loss and guilt and pain he'd suffered, and when he'd been nearly healed…

"You're welcome here for as long as you need," she murmured into Clint's shoulder. Her eyes met Patrick's, and he nodded at her unspoken request.

"Let's get cleaned up and in bed," Patrick urged. "It's been a hell of a night and we're all exhausted."

"Besides," Jack chimed in, "we all want to be asleep before Gracie wakes up the entire place."

That brought a snort out of Clint. "My goddaughter isn't that bad," he denied, turning his head and giving their boss a mock-glare.

"My granddaughter is," Jack grinned.

"He has a point," Patrick added. His and Alice's daughter, Grace Phillipa, was nearing the terrible twos and was showing it in a really big way. Even Steven, usually so easy-going, was beginning to show the strain.

"You're all mean," Clint raised his head without dislodging Alice's embrace. He'd regained a little of his humour at the quiet bantering.

Maybe the wounds weren't that bad after all. Patrick could certainly hope.

"How long are you going to be in town, Dad?" Alice asked as she chivvied Clint up off his stool.

"A couple of days at least," Jack answered. "I know the translation program is now up and running but I'm hoping a friendly voice speaking his language will help to convince him to cooperate fully."

"You can stay as long as you want, Dad," Alice responded. "I know Steven will be happy to see you."

Jack looked contrite as they headed up the stairs toward the bedrooms. "I'm hoping now that things are calming down a bit and Ianto's pretty much finished with Torchwood House that we'll have more time to visit. I really do miss you all."

Alice smiled softly. "We miss you and Tad too. Come on, to bed with you all, because if Steven finds out you're all here Gracie won't be the only one making a racket. And believe me when I say that a sixteen-year-old can make just as much noise as a two-year-old…if not more."

Once Clint and Jack had been shown to the guest room, and Alice had given them both hugs as they parted company, Patrick grabbed her by the hand and led her toward their own room at the end of the hall. "Lay down with me for a bit?" he asked, letting more of his tiredness show.

Alice shook her head fondly. "Just a few minutes," she allowed. "Some of us have things to do today, after all."

"I doubt I'll be up to much anyway," he admitted, leaning forward and kissing her lightly. "I just need to be close for a short while."

"I can understand that."

Patrick led her into the bedroom, and she didn't even wake him up when she got up to take care of the kids.