22

It took some convincing via text with Eddie as the intermediary between him and Jamie, but in the end, they agreed Frank should bring James home so he wouldn't worry needlessly about his father. All he told them was that it was important James came home to see Jamie, one night wasn't going to improve the way Jamie looked or felt anyway and James was going to have to see him eventually. With a call to Pop to hold off on his cooking extravaganza and a stop to pick up Jamie's - and James' - favorite dishes from a nearby restaurant, Frank delivered his grandson safely to the apartment.

Eddie opened the front door even before they reached the apartment. Today had been quite the day, but now that she had Jamie settled in bed, her next concern was to make sure James was okay. She was concerned over how he would react to seeing his dad all banged up, considering how it had her feeling when she first saw him. "Hey, you guys," she smiled warmly.

"Hi," James said quietly.

The poor kid looked like she felt. She pulled him in for a quick hug and glanced at Frank, silently wondering how things went on the ride over. All she knew from their exchange was that James really wanted to be home with them - quite the opposite from last night and this morning. "How are you doing?" she asked and followed him inside.

James came to a stop in front of the dining room table, after a quick look around. "Okay. Where's dad?"

"He's stretched out in bed. Here, let me take your bag," she offered and helped him slip it off his shoulders. "Why don't you go see him? I think it will make him feel better."

James wasn't sure about that and he was still feeling guilty despite the talk with his grandpa. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she smiled, rubbing his back.

James nodded and slowly made his way down the hall to their bedroom.

They watched for a few minutes until he disappeared through the door. When he was out of sight, Frank handed two takeout bags to Eddie. He stepped over to a stool at the pass-through and took a load off. "How is he doing?

"He's in pain." Eddie laid out the various food containers on the counter while rolling her eyes at a common Reagan trait. "And stubborn as usual. He didn't want to take the pain meds until he saw James, afraid they would make him loopy or knock him out before you guys got here. Thanks for this, Frank." At least feeding the boys was one less thing to think about.

"You're welcome and, well, I think they could both use each other's company right about now."

Eddie leaned against the back counter, crossing her arms infront of her chest. "So he told you about the fireworks last night, huh?"

Frank grinned at his very intuitive daughter-in-law. "How did you know?"

"Just a hunch. I figured there was more to your insisting he come home."

Frank tapped his fingers along the countertop before meeting her gaze. "Yes he did. Jamie did the right thing, by the way."

"I know he did," she nodded. "But how do you get a ten year old to see that when they think you're only trying to ruin their fun?" He had experience with this, there must be some wisdom she could impart on them.

Frank chuckled, before turning serious. "You don't, unfortunately, but he'll get over it. I think he already has, although we didn't need it to be because of what happened today."

"Tell me about it. And if this is ten, I can wait for the teenage years."

The patented Frank Reagan grin returned. "At least you have a mini-Jamie and not a mini-Danny."

"God no!"

Jamie was in bed, propped up against a pile of pillows with both arms wrapped around his torso securing his sore ribs. If memory served him, it would be a while before the littlest bend, shift, wiggle, or reach would come without pain and discomfort. His eyes were closed - the left by choice and the right fully swollen shut. Still, he begged the throbbing that extended from his legs to the top of his head to ease up. Getting checked over in the ER and then cleaned up and into sweats and a tee here had only made everything feel worse.

Jamie's head rolled to the left when the door to the bedroom creaked and he spotted a pair of anxious eyes peering through the crack in the doorway. "Hey, bud," he greeted his son, smiling warmly despite the swelling around his face and the burning it caused his split lip. "You can come in," he encouraged him when James opened the door some more but remained rooted in the doorway. Still, it was a no go.

Jamie felt guilty that James had to see him like this and waved him forward. "It looks worse than it is, I promise. I'd be up and around but Eddie grounded me in here," he said, forcing his tone to remain light and confident.

James treaded slowly into the room and over to his father's bedside. With a creased forehead and big eyes, he took in all of the visible bruises and scrapes along his dad's hands, arms and face, stopping to gawk at his swollen black eye and fat lip - it looked like something out of a movie. He guessed there might be more he couldn't see.

"Sorry you have to see me like this," Jamie said with a grimace.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I will be. Just really sore and puffy, as you can see. Nothing's broken and the doctor cleared me to come home. He gave me some good medicine and told me to get lots of sleep and I'll be as good as new," he said. It wasn't far from the truth but that was all James needed to know.

"Really?" James wasn't so sure from the looks of him, but he was home, so it was probably true.

"Yeah, really. I wouldn't lie to you."

It was the second time he'd heard that today and he believed both people that said it, despite the way his dad looked. James nervously bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't know what else to say and the silence that began last night continued now, but for different reasons.

"Why don't you sit with me and keep me company," Jamie said, patting the spot next to him. He hoped he could coax James to talk and convince him that he really was alright. It looked like he still had his doubts. "Come on."

James hesitated, but his dad looked at him expectantly. He would never admit this outloud but he didn't want to leave his side right now. There was something he had to fix, so he toed off his sneakers and made his way to Eddie's side of the bed where he carefully took the spot next to him, sitting shoulder to shoulder with his father.

Jamie was happy to sit quietly with him for now. Today was a close one. The only thing that kept him going were thoughts of his little family and how much he needed to come home to them.

James couldn't help staring at all of the purple and reds mottling his skin from up close, but he eventually forced himself to look away. There was something he wanted to say, but he was having trouble getting it out. Then he thought about his dad - he was pretty brave to go up against five guys. If he could do that, he should be able to say one tiny little word to get this started. "Sorry," he said quietly.

Jamie frowned when he heard it. His head rolled along the pillow to question James. "For what?"

James' eyes met his dad's. "For what I said yesterday. I don't hate you," he explained.

Jamie was surprised. It was the last thing on his mind right now and the last thing he thought would be on James' mind. "Hey, that's already forgotten, bud." But James seemed doubtful, so he raised his arm and motioned the boy closer, managing to quietly breathe through the pain the movement caused. "Come here."

James didn't think that was a good idea. "Will I hurt you?"

"Nah. It's just what the doctor ordered," he replied confidently.

James hesitated, but eventually eased into the crook of his dad's arm and carefully settled his head against his shoulder while Jamie embraced him. "See, that wasn't so bad. I mean," Jamie stopped and took an exaggerated whiff of his head. "You stink a little from camp. Today was football day wasn't it? But I feel better already," he smirked.

"I do not," James argued, although he knew he did. Sports days were the sweatiest and grimiest at camp. Still, he tried to hide his smile.

"Nah, you're good," he chuckled. "We all are."

They were content to sit quietly now, the opposite of the tense dinner last night and the awkward car ride this morning.

"You gonna keep me company tomorrow?" Jamie asked after some time.

"I don't have to go to camp?" James clarified, excited at the prospect of staying home.

"Up to you. We wouldn't go anywhere. Eddie's not gonna let me out of this apartment anytime soon and I'm gonna need someone to keep me entertained - maybe watch some of those movies we've been meaning to see. And you know Eddie thinks food fixes everything, so it's gonna be junk food galore."

"So does Grandpa. He bought like ten pounds of mac and cheese."

Jamie's laugh turned into a hiss as his free arm braced his ribs, but the smile remained on his face. "That sounds good to me."

"Me too."