TM prompt 222
Mar. 31st, 2008 10:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sylph_ficsTitle: Sleep (or the lack of), couches, and children
"Sleeping on the couch"... Oh, yes, I have spent a fair amoung of time in that position, difficult as it is to find a comfortable position on most of the small, modern couches that seem to be the fashion... I'm soldier enough to be able to sleep almost anywhere, though.
The time that springs to mind the strongest, though....
Slade looked up at the house as he stepped out of the car, eyes narrowed. It was almost one in the morning, but half the lights in the house burned brightly—what had happened, and why hadn't Addie called him home? He left his bag in the trunk and went to the door quickly, twisting the key in the lock to push it open. He listened with the senses he was still growing accustomed to for any hint of what had happened.
All of the noise was upstairs, sound of heartbeats and breathing... then the weak sound of a cough from the upstairs bedroom met his ears. Just behind the cough, Grant's voice rose in a whine that wasn't at all like him, "Ma~ma..." even as he heard Joey fussing as well.
"Shh, Grant, Joseph, shh..." his wife’s voice was tired, more than he’d ever heard, even at the end of one of their worst exercises, and he took the distance between the door and the stairs in one fast move, then the stairs two and three at a time, still listening. "It's all right, baby," he heard her say, her voice dragging.
He stepped on one of the boards in the hall that always squeaked, warning her he was there before he came through the bedroom door. Grant was wrapped up in a blanket on the near side of the bed, Joey had obviously just wriggled out of his blanket on the far side of the bed, and Addie was wrapped in a heavy robe, laying between the two of them as she reached to wrap the blanket back around their youngest, who fussed loudly, "No, mama, hot!"
"You were freezing cold just a moment ago, Joey," his wife said softly even as she looked up, her green eyes lighting with relief. "Look, Joey, Grant. Your father's home."
"Daddy?" The question came from both of his sons at once as Grant twisted around to look at the door, and Joe half sat up--only to cough and drop back against the bed.
"Yes, Grant, Joe. I'm home," he said as he moved to take a place on the bed, reaching out to brush the light hair back from his oldest son's face. "Addie... why didn't you call?"
"You were already on your way home when they got sick, Slade. Hello, my husband." Despite how tired she was, her voice was threaded with irritation.
He looked across the bed, and their son, at her, reaching out to stroke his fingers over her cheek as he smiled an apology at her. "Hello, Addie. I'm sorry I'm so late. What's wrong with the boys?"
Not as though he can't feel the fever burning against his fingertips against Grant's skin, hear the rattle of congestion in the way his sons breathe (only in the throat, not the chest, yet), see the unnatural brightness of their eyes, practically taste the sickness in the air... but Addie didn't know that, wouldn't know that, not for as long as he could keep what the Army really did to him from her. She had made it so clear that she wanted a normal life for their sons... he could never be normal, especially not now, but he can try to give her the life she wants.
Right now, that meant helping her. His senses, no matter how good, wouldn't tell him what she can--she's the one that's been here.
"Full out influenza," Addie sighed, turning her head just enough to press lightly against his fingertips. "And they both came down with it at almost the same ti--"
"Daddy hold me."
It was much more of a demand than a request, and came from the weight now against his leg that was his youngest son. He looked down at miserable green eyes, and reached for his son.
"Come here, Joey," he said softly, and lifted him up against his chest, rubbing his back very gently as he settled the toddler close. Even through the layers of cloth, his youngest's skin was burning-hot against him. He would guess a hundred and four degrees at a minimum.
"Daddy..." Joey said softly, coughing around the word, but there was a happiness under the word that made him hold him closer. He could practically feel Grant's upset look, but heard the rustle of the bed as his first-born moved to crawl up into Addie's lap. "Mom..."
He thought he heard a... smugness in Grant's tired voice as he curled up close against his mother, and heard the breath of a sigh Addie would never betray to their children as she pulled him closer. "Yes, Grant," she said softly. "I've got you."
"...tired, mom," Grant said softly, and Joey made a noise against his chest. "Not tired. Too hot. Not hungry..." he felt his son move, and looked down into those glassy green eyes. "Thirsty, daddy...?"
"All right. Let's go get you some water."
"No." Blond curls shook as Joey looked up at him. "No want water... made me throw up. No. Kool-Aid, please?"
"Mm... Joe, b'quiet..." Grant complained from his place in Addie's arms.
Slade cupped a hand over Joe's mouth before his son could make the protest he could feel building against his chest, and looked over at Grant. "Grant? Thirsty?"
"No, daddy... sleepy..."
"I'll keep Grant, Slade. Go. Bring up a glass, once you have it made, in case he gets thirsty later." Addie stroked her hand over the back of Grant's neck gently, looking at his with eyes that were quickly going heavy-lidded.
"All right, Adeline." He changed his hold on his son to lean and kiss his wife gently, then stood up with Joey, carrying him down to the kitchen.
He simply settled his son in the crook of his arm to mix the drink for his sons, and poured enough for him into the lidded cup Joey used and gave it to him, then found Grant's favorite glass and half-filled it. Joey was contentedly drinking from his cup, which kept him quiet as he went back up the stairs.
Despite how short a time it had been, both his wife and son were asleep when he slipped back through the door to put the glass on the bedside table. That Addie stayed asleep through his movement in the room... He sighed softly to himself and held Joe a little closer as he went back downstairs, stretching out on the oversized, over-stuffed couch they'd bought with his son, blanket pulled down off the back of it for them both.
Joey stopped drinking, and looked up at him. "Story, daddy?"
"What kind of a story, Joe?"
"A real story... one about the animals?"
Slade thought for a moment or two, then nodded, and started telling his son a (mildly edited) story about one of the actual hunting trips he'd been a guide for recently. Despite all Joey's protests that he wasn't tired, before the story was halfway through, Slade heard his breathing change into sleep, and rescued the cup from a lax hand, setting it down beside the couch.
He shifted to be a little more comfortable and drew the blanket closer over them closer. His ears and sense of touch would wake him before his son woke completely, or moved away, and he let himself go to sleep, hand at the small of Joey's back.
"Sleeping on the couch"... Oh, yes, I have spent a fair amoung of time in that position, difficult as it is to find a comfortable position on most of the small, modern couches that seem to be the fashion... I'm soldier enough to be able to sleep almost anywhere, though.
The time that springs to mind the strongest, though....
Slade looked up at the house as he stepped out of the car, eyes narrowed. It was almost one in the morning, but half the lights in the house burned brightly—what had happened, and why hadn't Addie called him home? He left his bag in the trunk and went to the door quickly, twisting the key in the lock to push it open. He listened with the senses he was still growing accustomed to for any hint of what had happened.
All of the noise was upstairs, sound of heartbeats and breathing... then the weak sound of a cough from the upstairs bedroom met his ears. Just behind the cough, Grant's voice rose in a whine that wasn't at all like him, "Ma~ma..." even as he heard Joey fussing as well.
"Shh, Grant, Joseph, shh..." his wife’s voice was tired, more than he’d ever heard, even at the end of one of their worst exercises, and he took the distance between the door and the stairs in one fast move, then the stairs two and three at a time, still listening. "It's all right, baby," he heard her say, her voice dragging.
He stepped on one of the boards in the hall that always squeaked, warning her he was there before he came through the bedroom door. Grant was wrapped up in a blanket on the near side of the bed, Joey had obviously just wriggled out of his blanket on the far side of the bed, and Addie was wrapped in a heavy robe, laying between the two of them as she reached to wrap the blanket back around their youngest, who fussed loudly, "No, mama, hot!"
"You were freezing cold just a moment ago, Joey," his wife said softly even as she looked up, her green eyes lighting with relief. "Look, Joey, Grant. Your father's home."
"Daddy?" The question came from both of his sons at once as Grant twisted around to look at the door, and Joe half sat up--only to cough and drop back against the bed.
"Yes, Grant, Joe. I'm home," he said as he moved to take a place on the bed, reaching out to brush the light hair back from his oldest son's face. "Addie... why didn't you call?"
"You were already on your way home when they got sick, Slade. Hello, my husband." Despite how tired she was, her voice was threaded with irritation.
He looked across the bed, and their son, at her, reaching out to stroke his fingers over her cheek as he smiled an apology at her. "Hello, Addie. I'm sorry I'm so late. What's wrong with the boys?"
Not as though he can't feel the fever burning against his fingertips against Grant's skin, hear the rattle of congestion in the way his sons breathe (only in the throat, not the chest, yet), see the unnatural brightness of their eyes, practically taste the sickness in the air... but Addie didn't know that, wouldn't know that, not for as long as he could keep what the Army really did to him from her. She had made it so clear that she wanted a normal life for their sons... he could never be normal, especially not now, but he can try to give her the life she wants.
Right now, that meant helping her. His senses, no matter how good, wouldn't tell him what she can--she's the one that's been here.
"Full out influenza," Addie sighed, turning her head just enough to press lightly against his fingertips. "And they both came down with it at almost the same ti--"
"Daddy hold me."
It was much more of a demand than a request, and came from the weight now against his leg that was his youngest son. He looked down at miserable green eyes, and reached for his son.
"Come here, Joey," he said softly, and lifted him up against his chest, rubbing his back very gently as he settled the toddler close. Even through the layers of cloth, his youngest's skin was burning-hot against him. He would guess a hundred and four degrees at a minimum.
"Daddy..." Joey said softly, coughing around the word, but there was a happiness under the word that made him hold him closer. He could practically feel Grant's upset look, but heard the rustle of the bed as his first-born moved to crawl up into Addie's lap. "Mom..."
He thought he heard a... smugness in Grant's tired voice as he curled up close against his mother, and heard the breath of a sigh Addie would never betray to their children as she pulled him closer. "Yes, Grant," she said softly. "I've got you."
"...tired, mom," Grant said softly, and Joey made a noise against his chest. "Not tired. Too hot. Not hungry..." he felt his son move, and looked down into those glassy green eyes. "Thirsty, daddy...?"
"All right. Let's go get you some water."
"No." Blond curls shook as Joey looked up at him. "No want water... made me throw up. No. Kool-Aid, please?"
"Mm... Joe, b'quiet..." Grant complained from his place in Addie's arms.
Slade cupped a hand over Joe's mouth before his son could make the protest he could feel building against his chest, and looked over at Grant. "Grant? Thirsty?"
"No, daddy... sleepy..."
"I'll keep Grant, Slade. Go. Bring up a glass, once you have it made, in case he gets thirsty later." Addie stroked her hand over the back of Grant's neck gently, looking at his with eyes that were quickly going heavy-lidded.
"All right, Adeline." He changed his hold on his son to lean and kiss his wife gently, then stood up with Joey, carrying him down to the kitchen.
He simply settled his son in the crook of his arm to mix the drink for his sons, and poured enough for him into the lidded cup Joey used and gave it to him, then found Grant's favorite glass and half-filled it. Joey was contentedly drinking from his cup, which kept him quiet as he went back up the stairs.
Despite how short a time it had been, both his wife and son were asleep when he slipped back through the door to put the glass on the bedside table. That Addie stayed asleep through his movement in the room... He sighed softly to himself and held Joe a little closer as he went back downstairs, stretching out on the oversized, over-stuffed couch they'd bought with his son, blanket pulled down off the back of it for them both.
Joey stopped drinking, and looked up at him. "Story, daddy?"
"What kind of a story, Joe?"
"A real story... one about the animals?"
Slade thought for a moment or two, then nodded, and started telling his son a (mildly edited) story about one of the actual hunting trips he'd been a guide for recently. Despite all Joey's protests that he wasn't tired, before the story was halfway through, Slade heard his breathing change into sleep, and rescued the cup from a lax hand, setting it down beside the couch.
He shifted to be a little more comfortable and drew the blanket closer over them closer. His ears and sense of touch would wake him before his son woke completely, or moved away, and he let himself go to sleep, hand at the small of Joey's back.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-04-01 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-01 05:40 pm (UTC)And yes, he always was.
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Date: 2008-04-01 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-01 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-01 07:21 pm (UTC)It would be nice to know for certain, but I have been a mite reluctant to go near him and upset things.