The Misadventures of Anna Cabbot

In Absentia

"You don't have to babysit me," Jamie mumbled. He was wedged on his couch with a pillow clutched to his chest. "S'not like I'm gonna go anywhere."

"Yeah, but you look like shit and I'm not going to put anything past you." Thom rubbed between Merry's ears, the cat curled in his lap as he sat in the armchair. "If I thought you could balance properly you'd be on your way to the lake."

"Les has my keys."

"Like that makes a difference. You hot-wired a Blazer once because it had a crate of illegal pixie dust in the back."

"It had leaked. I wasn't risking over-exposure." Jamie stretched out his leg with the cuff, wincing. "I had enough of a contact high as it was."

"Says the only Murdock who's never done pot."

He jerked around to stare incredulously at Thom. "Auggie's done pot?"

"In brownie form," Thom said slowly. "With intense adult supervision. Adele was there."

"Adele's supposed to be the responsible one." Jamie buried his face in his pillow.

"She is. She also exhibits more common sense than a gnat, unlike someone else I know."

Jamie's "Fuck off" was eaten mostly by the pillow still against his mouth. He was tempted to scream into it, though he doubted it would make him feel better. Truthfully, he felt as bad as Thom said he looked — had had a constant low-grade fever, his joints and muscles ached, and the goddamn cuff chafed against his ankle.

"Don't lie to me, James," Thom said in such a tone that Jamie had to look at him. "How magic-sick are you going to be when that comes off?"

He blinked, trying to extrapolate based on prior experience. "Death by soul-sucking slow-bleeding gut wound would probably better."

Thom winced.

"I just need to be careful about any excess." Which really meant any sort of excess was off the table. He'd have to be very, very careful about his magic use once the cuff was off.

"Sleep is your friend. And extra strength Tylenol. Les is coming this weekend."

"Still don't need a babysitter."

"Not really your call."

Jamie shifted, sprawling out. "When is it Adele's turn?"

"When you puke." Thom lifted Merry against his chest and stood.

"Hate this. Hate this," he whined, turning his face to the back cushions.

Thom set Merry on Jamie's lap, then proceeded to pry the pillow from his fingers. Jamie let himself be coaxed upright enough for it to be shoved behind his head and shoulders. The previously discarded blanket was rescued from the floor and draped over Jamie's legs.

"I know, pal," Thom murmured. "I know."

"Still do it."

"I know that, too."

Merry migrated upward enough to knead Jamie's collarbone through his shirt. He huffed, shivering slightly. God, he hated the shakes.

"You're okay. Breathe." Thom pushed Jamie's unruly hair off his damp forehead. "You love her, in a way."

"Her. Him. Love them both." Jamie didn't want to elaborate, and knew Thom wouldn't push him to.

He perched on the edge of the couch by Jamie's hip. "Did you feel anything when you were on the lake?"

Could you feel them was what he knew Thom wanted to ask but wouldn't. Jamie rolled his head around on the pillow and blinked at his brother. "I couldn't find them." His face grew hot and the back of his throat burned. "I couldn't find them."

"You tried," Thom assured him, grabbing the hand closest to him. "I know you tried. You were out there for hours."

"I shouldn't have come back without them." Jamie, rather than fight Thom's hold, welcomed the warmth against his own clammy skin.

"James — "

"I shouldn't have. I should have come back with them or just — or just stayed out there."

"We'd have hunted you down. You know this. We'd have done it with magic or we'd have gotten the Coast Guard because you'd gone missing on the lake." Thom squeezed his fingers. "I know it hurts, okay? I know it hurts."

Jamie's chest cracked, and he couldn't hold onto the anger for both failing to find them and bring them home. Logically it wasn't his fault. Someone had taken them or they'd found something bigger than they'd anticipated, but it ultimately wasn't his fault no matter how much he tried to take responsibility for it. All that was left now was hurt and uncertainty, and he'd never been good at dealing with either, and he let himself splinter.

The noise he made was almost inhuman, and he used the hand still in Thom's to claw his way upright, dislodging Merry. Thom, bless him, caught him around the shoulders and hauled him close. Jamie buried his face against Thom's neck and sobbed.

"There it is," Thom murmured.

Jamie's back heaved, and he was lost to the cycle of breathe, sob, choke, and breathe for who knew how long. When he finally did wind down, he slumped heavily against Thom's chest. His nose was clogged and he knew he had to look absolutely wrecked.

"Do you want me to get you a tissue or a wash cloth or anything?" Thom asked quietly.

Words were effort. He rolled his forehead side to side, and the grip he had on Thom's shirt tightened.

"Okay." Thom smoothed one hand across Jamie's shoulders and left the other cupping the back of his brother's head.

"They're not dead," Jamie mumbled brokenly against Thom's neck. "They're not."

"I know. I didn't think they were."

Jamie shivered. He let Thom rearrange them, fading in and out for a few minutes. Once they were finally settled and under a blanket, Jamie tipped his head back to breathe better and heaved a sigh.

"Tell me a story?" he whispered in the stillness. It was a thing between them from when they'd been teenagers and living at home. Thom's brain sometimes wouldn't quiet enough for him to sleep, but something about the cadence of Jamie's words in the soft quiet of their shared bedroom had always lulled him into enough of a calm to finally rest. Thom asked for so little that Jamie had never denied him this.

Thom tensed momentarily then relaxed. "Okay. This one comes from college Thom, who was an idiot."

"You're still an idiot."

"So are you so what's the difference?"

"....Carry on."

"I thought so. This is from...junior year, I think. I'd like to say I knew better but we both know that's probably a lie. Anyway, someone had the bright idea to play jailbreak in the cemetery at midnight."

"Because that's not creepy at all," Jamie mumbled.

"It's the best idea when you're playing with the Sage — the one who's gotta mind the graveyard spirits — who's tied to the cemetery. You ever seen the guy who used to beat people up and take their lunch money in high school scream, then trip over a headstone at a dead sprint? It's pretty great..."

Jamiefelt the reverberation of Thom's words through his arm where it touched hischest, and let it lull him into a stupor.