"Can you please?" Jess pulled at him, her frustration becoming evident, "Why are you acting like this?"

"Acting like what? I don't see why I'm here, I need to get back to base," Miguel attempted to gently pry her fingers from his wrist.

"You're here because you are still recovering and I don't trust you to actually rest and heal. And I'm right not to, since you just admitted you plan on going back to work."

"Yes, because I have to deal with the new holes in the-"

"Enough," she sighed, keeping a firm hold, "Sit. I am about to fix your food, Peter will be back later to visit you, and after you have food in you, we are going to talk."

Mig began to speak when she pointed to the kitchen table, making it clear that this was not currently up for debate.

X

Jess watched as her friend dipped his grilled cheese into the soup. He wore a slightly different pout than his natural one. She couldn't help but smile at the fact that she knew him well enough to tell those subtle differences in his face.

"I finished the food," he held up the bowl, showing it cleaned of his tomato soup, "May I go back now, por favor?"

"No, you may not," she took his bowl, taking it to the sink, "For a while Peter and I have been doing our best to help you, and take care of you from afar. Me more than him. But, I think right now is a perfect time to be more hands on."

2099 watched her, tapping his nails on the table impatiently.

Jess looked at him, "We care about you. I care about you."

Mig paused his fidgeting, unsure how to respond to the statement.

A soft palm gently raised his chin, "You know that?"

"I do…I appreciate it," he turned his gaze from her eyes to the wall.

"Then you should understand why I always feel the need to check in on you and take care of you."

Miguel watched as she pulled her chair up. He huffed slightly, "I thank you, both of you. You've truly been good friends. I'm sorry for what this week ended up becoming. I…lost composure."

"You lost more than composure, buddy," she sipped her juice, "And you're going to be taking some breaks if I have anything to say about it. Firstly, to lay some ground rules, you're going to take a short break to heal. You're going to stay here as you heal.

"Next, when you are fit to go back to the base, you are going to be leaving more often than you do. Because you need to eat and sleep more."

"Do I get a say?"

"No, you don't," she scoffed.

"I didn't think I would," he muttered, "I can recover at the base though. I don't want to impose on you and your family."

"Nice try, but I talked this over with my husband already and he's ok with it," she smiled, not revealing how he had encouraged it nor how he was excited by the idea.

Miguel crossed his arms, turning away, "I still don't think I need this. I should be fully healed in a day or two anyway."

"You wouldn't think you need it. Either way, you're stuck with me from now until I feel you're back to 100%."

"What about when I need to go to my dimension and patrol?"

"We'll deal with that when you don't have stitches."

"Jess…"
"Are you still hungry or ready to see your room?" She finished her drink.

He stared at her, unamused, "You're really going to attempt to hold me captive?"

"It's not an attempt," Jess shrugged, "And we've barely got started with what all I have planned for you, boss."

Mig raised a brow at that comment. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It felt like there were some bad intentions in it.

"Now," she took his hand, leading him off, "Lets go get you comfy in your room."