Connor stepped into the basement. Jude and Mikey were sitting on the couch, and Mikey was in the middle of saying something. He heard the noise of Connor's footsteps and turned his head. As soon as he saw Connor, Mikey's face lit up.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Mikey snatched a single piece of paper off the coffee table and held it out.

"What's this?" Connor asked, sinking down on the couch next to Mikey.

"I got a hundred on my math test!"

"Wow! I'm so proud of you!" Connor exclaimed, high-fiving Mikey.

"And I got a star sticker! Do you see it?"

"I see it. That's awesome!"

Mikey grinned and sidled up to Connor. "I need to ask you something," he whispered loudly.

Connor glanced over at Jude, who was trying to hide a grin behind his open hand.

"What do you need to ask?" Connor replied in a low voice.

"Can we order Chinese food tonight?"

"Why? Do you want Chinese food?"

"I think Father does. And it's his birthday."

"Well …"

"And he already said we could," Mikey added.

"Mikey!" Jude laughed. "You weren't supposed to tell him that!"

"Oops!" Mikey bounced across the couch to throw his arms around Jude's neck. "Sorry, Father!"

"It's all right," Jude said. "So, what does Dad think?"

"Dad, what do you think?" Mikey parroted.

"Dad thinks he's outnumbered and that it's never a bad time for spring rolls!"

"Yay!" Mikey exclaimed. "Chinese food!"

"We'll order it a little later," Connor promised.

"I have to pee," Mikey replied and ran into the small bathroom just a short distance away.

"Chinese food?" Connor asked, keeping his voice low.

"I wanted it," Jude confessed. "You did say anything I wanted for my birthday."

"I don't recall those exact words," Connor mused. Jude poked his thigh with his foot. "But if you want Chinese food you can have Chinese food."

"I know." Jude smiled. "You're the best …" he hesitated.

Connor drew in a breath, waiting for the descriptor.

"… friend ever."

Connor smiled. He should have expected that. 'Friend' was easy and safe; it wasn't untrue to how they were either.

"I FORGOT TO TELL YOU!" Mikey hollered, out of the bathroom. He tripped over his own two feet and half rolled across the carpet but wasn't affected. He sat up by the coffee table and said, "Andrew's gonna call you at seven to talk about the sleepover!"

"All right. We'll be waiting," Jude assured him.

Mikey climbed up on the couch and picked out a TV show for them to watch. Eventually, it got late enough to order Chinese food. When it was time to go pick it up, Mikey went with Connor in the car while Jude stayed home.

"Are we getting Father a cake?" Mikey asked.

"We have leftover cake from Grandmas last night," Connor reminded him.

"Oh." Mikey kicked at the seat. He looked out the window; the Chinese place was in view. "Do we have candles?"

"Better," Connor replied. "We have sparklers!"

"Yes!" Mikey exclaimed.

They parked in front of the Chinese place and Mikey scrambled out of the car. Mikey beat Connor to the front door of the restaurant and he held the door open for his dad.

"Thank you," Connor said, passing through.

Mikey followed him through the restaurant and up to the pay counter. "Can we get fortune cookies?"

"We've already got some in the bag."

"Yes!"

Connor paid and then he began to herd Mikey back to the car.

"Can I carry something for you, Dad? I'm strong!"

"No, it's all neatly packed up here. Thank you, though. It's very sweet of you to offer."

Mikey darted ahead of Connor, skipping up to the car. He let himself into the backseat. By the time Connor had settled the food on the passenger side floor of his car, Mikey was buckled it.

"My tummy is grumbling," Mikey complained.

"It's a ten minute drive home. Think you can make it?"

"Maybe," Mikey replied seriously.

"Are you buckled in?" Connor asked, turning to face his son.

"Yep!"

"Pull."

Mikey grabbed the seatbelt down by the clasp and yanked on it. Once Connor was satisfied that Mikey was safely buckled in, he drove home to Jude. Mikey hummed under his breath on the drive, making it seem even shorter. When Connor parked the car, Mikey tried to run into the house, but Connor asked Mikey to walk in with him. The little boy was happy to comply, unaware of his dark motives. Connor was nearly one hundred percent sure that Jude would not try to kill himself again, but he left that little bit of doubt, because it had happened once, and Connor didn't think that the fear would ever totally go away. And if those doubts ever came to fruition, Connor would not let Mikey see Jude that way.

But Jude greeted them at the door.

"I thought we'd eat downstairs. Have a more relaxed dinner."

"That sounds good."

"There's fortune cookies!" Mikey informed Jude.

"I love fortune cookies! There's forks and plates already downstairs," Jude informed Connor as he and Mikey headed for the basement.

Connor took the extra few moments to kick off his shoes but he was quick to follow his family down the stairs. Dinner was a happy affair. Mikey put on Jude's favourite Disney movie to watch as they ate, sitting on the floor around their coffee table. Jude and Connor sat at opposite ends of the table while Mikey sat in between them, his back resting against the couch. They were halfway through eating when Jude stretched out his leg under the length of the table to rest his feet against Connor.

With his left hand, Connor reached under the table to tickle the bottom of Jude's feet. He felt Jude curl his toes against his calf and Connor smiled.

"Can we open the fortune cookies now?" Mikey begged, finished eating before Jude or Connor.

"Sure." Connor reached into the plastic bag that their Chinese food had come in. "We have, uh oh, four cookies!"

"We can have a family fortune then. One each and one for all of us."

"Are … are we still a family?" Mikey asked.

"Of course," Jude said, reaching over to hug him with one arm. "We're always your family and that's the most important part."

Mikey smiled. "Okay. Can I open mine now?"

"Go ahead," Jude encouraged him.

Mikey cracked his cookie open and then he frowned at the paper. Slowly he read, "Actions speak louder than words. But, Father, actions don't talk."

"It means that sometimes what people do means more than what people say. Because people can say anything –"

"Like lies!"

"Like lies," Jude agreed. "But that people's actions can be more real than words."

Mikey stared at Jude and then looked at Connor. "Dad?"

"Let's say there's a new boy in your class and he says hello to you and tells you he is a nice boy. Then, at recess, you see him push someone off the swings. Is he a nice boy?"

"No," Mikey said immediately. "Nice boys don't push anyone off the swings."

"So even though he said he was nice, he wasn't really, because his actions weren't nice."

"I get it!" Mikey said triumphantly. "What do you think my actions say?"

"I think your actions say that you're a very kind, energetic kid," Connor answered.

"What do you think Father's actions say about him?"

Connor looked to Jude, thinking, what actions? Jude had evolved so much during their years as together; Jude had evolved so much since his suicide attempt, even. Jude's actions now were something more. Jude was soft and quiet; he got tired a lot and he liked relaxing. He liked kissing and physical contact, and he was starting to talk to Connor more and more because he finally felt like Connor was listening. Connor finally felt like he could hold all of Jude's details in his palm again; he felt like he truly knew his husband.

"Father's actions say that he's a caring, sensitive person."

Mikey nodded.

"What do you think they say about him?"

"That he's a good father," Mikey said. "And yours say you're a good dad."

"And all of yours say that you're a good son," Jude complimented him back.

"Open your fortune cookie!" Mikey said excitedly, nudging the treat toward Jude.

"All right," Jude agreed. He opened the wrapper and then cracked the cookie open. "It says 'follow your heart's desire'."

Connor's heart leapt when Jude's eyes met his own. It was just a fortune cookie; it could have just as easily been a joke fortune. But, being in the middle of what they were in, it meant a lot to Connor. He was Jude's desire; he and their family, together and happy.

"What about you, Dad?"

Connor opened his own cookie. "Protective measures will prevent costly disasters."

"Practical," Jude commented.

"Well, it never hurts to protective the things that you love the most." Connor felt Jude's toes pick at his jeans.

"Can I open the last cookie?" Mikey asked.

"Go ahead."

Mikey unwrapped it. As slowly as he had read the first one, Mikey said, "Staying close to home is going to be best for your … for your … Father, I don't know that word."

"Sound it out," Connor encouraged him.

Mikey took a deep breath. "Moo-ralley."

"Can I see?" Jude asked. Mikey showed him the tiny piece of paper. "Morale."

"Morale," Mikey repeated. "Staying close to home is going to be best for your morale today."

"Home is where the heart is," Jude commented, ruffling Mikey's unruly hair.

Mikey smiled happily. In the quietness of the basement, Jude's cell phone began to ring. It was Andrew calling to talk about the sleepover. At the very thought of it, Mikey hopped up onto the couch cushion, bouncing up and down. Jude put the phone on speaker so that they could talk to the man at the same time.

After they had said their pleasantries, Connor said, "Mikey would prefer to have them over on Saturday night, if that works out for you."

"Sure," Andrew said. "The only issue is Sunday morning. Their mother and I always like to take them to church every week and we always like to go to them ten a.m. services."

"What time would you want to pick them up?" Jude asked.

"Around nine. Mikey and Chris like to get up early, I know that, but you might have to poke JP awake."

"I'll do it!" Mikey volunteered from the couch.

Over the phone, Andrew laughed. "But it all works out for me if you're sure you want to deal with three of them."

"It'll be fun," Jude said. "You can drop them off any time on Saturday afternoon. One of us, at least, will be around."

"All right. It'll probably be around two or three," Andrew replied.

"Sounds good."

"Have a good night," Connor told him.

"You too," Andrew replied, and that was the end of the phone call.

After Jude hung up, it took all of two minutes for Mikey and Jude to convince Connor to go upstairs and get them the leftover cake for Jude, each using different excuses: "But, Connor, it's my birthday!" and "But, Dad, I'm little!". It didn't take much to get Connor up the stairs, dropping slice of cakes into bowls. He took the sparklers and stuck two in Jude's and one in Mikey's slice and then, deciding that he didn't want to be left out, put one in his own piece of cake too. He waited until he got to the bottom of the stairs to light the sparklers, though it took an impressive balancing act on his part to get that done.

"Happy birthday," Connor said again, as he set Jude's dish in front of him.

"Thank you."

"Thank you, Dad," Mikey said, immediately picking up his fork and digging into his cake, even while his sparkler spit flames at him.

The rest of the evening went by quietly. Connor helped Mikey with his math homework and they let him watch cartoons in the basement while he and Jude went up to the kitchen. In tandem, they put away the leftover Chinese food and the dirty dinner dishes.

"Ready for a sleepover on Saturday?" Connor asked.

"I've got time to prepare," Jude joked back. "I'm glad they're coming over here. Mikey usually goes over there … although he did stop going for a while."

"When you were bad?" Connor asked quietly.

Jude nodded, suddenly concentrating too much on the dishwasher. "He doesn't even realize how much he knows. It just hurts me how much he cares."

"Every kid cares about their parent."

"Not every kid has to care as much as Mikey does."

Connor reached out, rubbing his hand along Jude's back. "Mikey would love and care just as much even if you had never had a depressive episode. That's just the kind of kid that Mikey is and you need to know that."

"I …" Jude turned the dirty glass in his hands over and over. "I … don't know what I know."

The glass fell from his hands and shattered on their hardwood floor.

"Come here," Connor said, wrapping his arm around Jude's shoulders. "Come on, walk out of here before you hurt yourself."

Jude remained frozen in place.

"Jude, you don't want to hurt yourself."

"Father, what was that noise?!" Mikey yelled from the basement.

"No," Jude said, walking out of the kitchen. "I don't want to hurt myself."

"We dropped a dish! Don't come upstairs until I get all the shards cleaned up!"

"Okay, Dad!"

"I'm going downstairs," Jude told Connor.

"Okay. I'll come down too once I'm done here."

Jude didn't say anything else. Connor didn't know how to. He got the broom and dustpan from the cupboard and cleaned up the shards of glass. He was overly cautious. He didn't want Mikey to step on anything; he didn't want Jude to find something. It was impossible to say if Jude had dropped the glass because he had been lost in thought or because he thought that the glass would have some painful impact on himself. Connor hated to consider it, but Jude's burnt hand wasn't totally healed yet either. He couldn't read Jude's mind. Jude could want to hurt himself.

Connor took the glass outside to the bin at the end of the driveway. He knew that he couldn't protect Jude from everything that was in their house – if Jude was committed to hurting himself, he would find a way to hurt himself – but just like on the night when he found the razor blades, getting it out of the house made Connor feel a little better. It was a selfish act that brought him enough peace of mind to be what Jude needed him to be.

Connor checked the kitchen floor one more time before going downstairs.

"Is the upstairs safe?" Mikey asked.

"Very safe," Connor assured him. "Safe enough for you to go to bed."

Connor thought that Mikey would fight him on the suggestion, but instead, he just nodded.

"I'm tired," he said. He clambered onto Jude's back. "It's bedtime, Father."

Jude closed his eyes and Connor thought that Jude looked a little worn out. They would have to continue talking about Mikey once they put the boy himself to bed. Connor didn't necessarily want to, since he knew that it stressed Jude out, but he couldn't let Jude dwell either. And Connor knew, by the flat look on Jude's face, that he was dwelling.

Jude opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He stood up, Mikey on his back like a monkey, and then jogged up the stairs. Connor followed them, as was expected. Jude carted Mikey off to the bathroom and then back to the bedroom to put on his pyjamas. Connor curled up at the end of the bed while Mikey crawled to the wall side. Jude sat on the edge and picked up the chapter book that they'd been working their way through piece by piece. Sometimes, they got through the chapter and they left Mikey to go to sleep by himself. Tonight, Mikey fell asleep before Jude finished the chapter.

Jude stuck Mikey's dragon bookmark back inside the book. He sat up, making sure that his son was tucked in under the blankets and was comfortably resting on the pillows. Connor followed Jude out of the room and herded them into their bedroom. He didn't know where to start.

"I dropped the glass because my fingers slipped," Jude said. "I know what you were thinking."

"I'm worried."

"I know." Jude sat down on the bed. "But it means you care."

"I do care. And Mikey cares. But he's not suffering because of it or because of you, okay?"

Jude looked down. "I hurt people."

"No, you don't." Connor sat next to him. "Everyone has points where they hurt others or do things that they're not proud of. That doesn't make you a bad person. You're not even close to being a bad person. You're going through a hard time. And reacting to everything that's been going on is confusing and hard. You might have reacted badly in some ways but you're not a burden and you're not hurting anyone in trying to figure it out. I just don't want you to hurt you anymore than you already have."

Connor picked up Jude's hand and kissed his knuckles.

"You always know what to say," Jude murmured. "I wish I was more like you."

Connor shook his head. "No, you don't. I'm a workaholic and I don't know how to pay attention to the important things. Sometimes I get a little paranoid and blame people for things that they don't actually do. I spent a lot of time wishing that I was more like you."

"Why? Why would you wish something like that?"

"Because you're smart and handsome and people care about you. You just seem to get things. I don't know. It's hard to explain. You're sweet and … I wish I could see the world the way that you do. I wish the world could see me the way that it sees you."

Jude smiled and Connor felt his heart lift.

"Tell me how you feel right now?"

"I feel …" Jude looked around the room. "I'm not sure. In my head, I know you're right. In my heart though, I feel like there is something wrong with me and that you're just being nice to me."

"Me? Nice to you? Never."

Jude smiled.

"You know … I have one more trick up my sleeve for your birthday. If you want it."

"Yeah, I do. What is it?"

"I was thinking, actually, about all of those back massages that I used to give you."

"My favourite thing."

"So … maybe get ready for bed and then we can do that again?"

Jude nodded. He looked to his bathroom, about to get up, and then he looked back at Connor. He leant over and hugged his husband tightly.

"Thank you for my birthday," Jude said.

"I know that I didn't do anything big or flashy –"

Jude was shaking his head. "No, no. It all meant something. It's all perfect."

Connor kissed his cheek. "I wanted it to be worthy of you."

Jude hugged him extra tightly and then headed off to the master bathroom to get ready for bed. Connor did as well and he moved as quickly as he could, so that he was sitting on the bed when Jude came back into the bedroom. He was carrying his bandages and the antiseptic cream and Connor changed them. Jude's hand was healing, but the healing wasn't pretty. He wrapped it up again.

"Back massage!" Jude announced.

Connor smiled because Jude seemed happy and excited about this, just the way that Connor had hoped that he would be.

"We used to do this with your shirt off," Connor said, as Jude went to lay down.

Jude's hand drifted to his ribs. "I … didn't use to have these either."

"You know I don't care."

"How could you not care?" Jude asked, although he wasn't demanding. He was just curious.

"I care that you hurt yourself," Connor said. "But I don't care about the scars. They don't make you any less, Jude."

Jude fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Connor?"

"Yeah?"

Jude looked up at him. "Just a back massage. No roaming hands."

"I would never –"

"Do you know how long we've been married?" Jude interrupted. "I know you."

"Fine … Fine. I promise. Just a back massage." As Jude took his shirt off, Connor added, "I can't promise not to stare."

"You won't have much to look at," Jude replied, and then he laid down on his stomach.

Connor straddled Jude's lower back and then reached to his shoulders. Slowly, he began to massage Jude's warm skin. The moment Jude felt his hands, he relaxed into the mattress.

"This is what I missed about you."

Connor laughed. "Only this?"

"Maybe a couple of others things too." Jude sighed contentedly. "But this is really high up on the list."

"I missed this too," Connor confessed.

He had missed just being able to touch him. Connor had missed the innocence of moments like this, where it was just the softness of Jude's skin under his palms and the sigh of his breath. Connor brought his hands up to the top of Jude's shoulders, rubbing at his tense shoulder blades. He watched Jude's eyes drift shut. He moved his hands in a systematic way, trying to leave no part of Jude's skin untouched. His hands drifted down to Jude's ribs. He felt goosebumps on his husband's skin and Connor pressed a little harder, trying to keep from tickling him. Still, Jude felt awkward and stiff under his hands as one of them touched his scars.

It was impossible to ignore the different textures of Jude's sides and Connor found himself touching them to compare the two.

"Does it hurt?" Connor asked.

"No. That's why there's more than one of them." Jude hid his face in the pillow.

"Oh, Jude," Connor murmured, because he didn't know what else to say. He let the pads of his fingers trace down Jude's ribs again. His right hand slipped down the smooth skin easily, but his left hand bumped over the reminders of Jude's pain.

"Stop," Jude whimpered. "It's disgusting; I'm sorry."

"It's not. You're not."

Connor leant forward and pressed a kiss to Jude's bare shoulder blade. He slipped off of Jude and, immediately, Jude sat up to grab his t-shirt. Connor stayed still, watching the way his body moved as he dressed himself again. Jude curled up on his side, tucking his scarred side against the bed.

"Did I upset you?" Connor asked.

"A little. It's not that they hurt. It's just that I don't want to have them anymore. And then, other times, I think I want to do it again."

"Can I lay down with you?"

Jude nodded.

Connor tucked himself in beside Jude and then he reached a hand out around Jude's waist, pulling the other man into him.

"What do you mean by want to hurt yourself?"

"Not like I want to go and grab something to do it with right now. It feels like an itch under my skin. It says that things will be better if I do it. That I'll calm down. That I'll be as in control of everything that I want to be. In my head, I know that's not true. Because I know I hate myself even more afterward."

Connor pressed his lips to the back of Jude's exposed neck. "You'd tell me if you were going to, wouldn't you? You'd let me help you?"

Jude nodded. "I'd want your help."

"Jude, your scars don't bother me."

"It bothers me. I never should have … But I did. And I hate it."

"I'm sorry." Connor thought that he should have something better to say. He should be able to comfort Jude more.

Jude cuddled into him further.

"Anything you want?"

Jude shook his head. "What about you?"

"Well … there's something that would be nice."

Jude turned around in his arms so that they were face to face. He brought his hand up to touch Connor's face, tracing down to the jawline.

"You know I want to kiss you."

Connor shook his head. "It's a bit bigger than that."

Jude looked at him distrustfully. "Sex? It's not that I don't want you, Connor, it's that –"

"It's bigger than that, Jude."

"Then … What do you …?"

Connor slipped his hand against Jude's scars. He'd touched them before, but not after he and Jude had talked about them like this. He let his hand wander around Jude's ribs like he had been before. "I want you to trust me."

"I do."

Connor shook his head. "You want to. And I think you do on most things. You trust me not to leave you … emotionally or otherwise. But … you don't trust me on other things."

"Do you trust me on everything?" Jude asked.

"I do."

"Are you sure?"

"Completely."

"So when I go back to school and find another job and a male co-worker and I become friends and go out for drinks after work, what are you going to say?"

"Have fun."

"Last time you said something like 'don't come home tonight, you cheating bastard'. And I did. And you slept on the futon. And then we didn't speak again until … Mikey had a sleepover and I threw … something at you."

"Bologna. I said I was hungry after you came home from grocery shopping." Connor bit down on the inside of his cheek. "It's not the same anymore."

"Why?"

"Because you love me."

"I loved you then, too. I just didn't particularly like the person you became."

"Yeah, but then I was convinced you were trying to not love me anymore. That you wanted out. And I know that you did, now, because living the way that we were living wasn't good for anyone. I'm sorry. But you love me. And you want to be with me. And I'm going to stay the person that you want to be with. So, go out with your friends without me. Male, female, both, neither, one-on-one or with five hundred other people. I don't care. Because it's just me that you'll come home too and I'm more sure of that now than I ever was then of you cheating on me."

"Convincing speech," Jude murmured. "And it's not that I think you're lying to me about how you feel about all of this or about the scars. I guess that I see things differently. I hate it and I hate them and I hate me for doing it and having them. And I just don't understand why you don't see things the same way that I do."

Jude closed his eyes tightly. Connor leant forward and kissed his forehead. He kissed his cheekbones and the flesh of his cheeks and his nose and the tip of his chin. Jude grabbed Connor around the waist and held him tightly as Connor continued kissing his face until he felt that Jude had calmed down. Connor didn't let go. He didn't want to let go.

"I love you. No matter how many scars you do or don't have. I just don't want you to hurt."

Jude kissed Connor's Adam's apple. "I want to feel better. I'm trying. Thank you for coming back to us."

"I never wanted to stay away. I'm sorry, Jude."

"It's okay," Jude soothed him. "We're going to be okay."

"I know. I trust us."

"Can I kiss you now?"

"Please."

Jude tilted his head up and Connor shifted to press his lips against his husband's. Jude's eyes fluttered shut as he kissed Connor back. Connor ran his thumb over Jude's scars again but there was no reaction from Jude to pull Connor closer. Baby steps, baby steps, but always in the right direction.

"Thank you," Connor said, as they moved away from one another, "for letting me come back."

"I never wanted you to stay away," Jude replied.

Connor laid down against his pillow and Jude curled into him again. As Jude drifted off, Connor moved his hand down to Jude's left. The bandages were getting thinner and thinner as they wounds healed. Soon, Jude wouldn't need them at all. Connor found his fingers fumbling around Jude's empty ring finger. Jude hadn't even said that he wanted Connor to stay forever; he hadn't moved back in. A ring wasn't something that he should even think about bringing up. But the more Connor thought about it, the heavier Connor's ring felt.

He wanted to come home. He wanted it to be home for good. He wanted the apartment to be gone; he wanted it to be a distant memory. He knew that Jude knew that, which is why he wasn't sure how to say any of it more clearly. Connor dropped Jude's hand and curled his arm more protectively against Jude's waist. It would come with time.

And Connor was sure that it would come.

Don't forget to send me playlist ideas if you have them! This week's songs are: The Only One by James Blunt; Another Try by Josh Turner featuring Trisha Yearwood; If This Was A Movie by Taylor Swift (reader recommended).

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Hand In My Pocket, to my tumblr URL add backslash tagged backslash hand dash in dash my dash pocket. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~