j . smith (ergoargo) wrote in valesco, @ 2018-03-25 00:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | jason smith |
WHO: The Smith Boys (Jason, Alex, and Zacharias!)
WHAT: Morning talks
WHERE: Alex's flat
WHEN: TODAY!
There was a sharp poking in his side.
“Theios?” A perturbed voice pressed through the deep sleep Jason was in and he forced his eyes open. His arms were wrapped around his pillow, body stretched along the couch he’d taken residence on. He blinked as the poker spoke again, “Theios Jason? You’re taking up the whole couch.”
“Sorry,” Jason mumbled, shifting to up to let his nephew sit beside him. Zacharias was here for the weekend, and he plopped beside his uncle and opened up his book. Jason put a hand to the boy’s head, mussing his hair. “What are we doing for your dad’s birthday?”
Not looking up from the page, Zacharias rattled off the day’s agenda, “You’re gonna make his favorite pancakes for breakfast, I’m gonna make sandwiches for lunch, and then I’ll tell you which restaurant to order food from for dinner because he doesn’t want to get dressed today, it’s a pajamas day.”
Now, Zacharias looked up to make sure his uncle understood that the plans were not to be deterred from. Jason smiled, amused and glad he’d brought enough money for the day’s festivities. He had been staying at Alex’s flat for the last few days, trying to figure out his life and the steps to take to help their mother.
Helping her and not hurting them. Jason understood that, it still itched at his skin, but he understood it, but what kind of answer could they come up with? Their father had never budged in her treatment regimen and made a good show that all was in order. For how many years had Jason believed his father when he said Alex was selfish and useless? It had taken him a long time to see through his brother’s addictions, it had taken a lot, but now---This brilliant nephew of his said it all, didn’t it?
“Where are my pancakes?” a grumbly voice rumbled.
Zacharias leaped to his feet, “DAD! Happy birthday!”
The nine year old hurried around the coffee table to clamp his arms around Alex in a tight hug. He also glared at Jason, but Alex tugged his son back to the couch for a bit of a lie in before breakfast began.
“I’m getting old,” Alex muttered, his hair up in all ends. Jason reckoned he looked just as much of a mess, and grinned.
“You were already old.”
Zacharias squeezed into the couch space between Alex’s side and the arm of the couch to fiddle with the radio on the window sill behind their heads. While the boy found the wireless station that would provide the best birthday breakfast soundtrack, the brothers planned the day.
“Do you want blueberries or---”
“I’m taking dad to court.”
Jason nearly choked on his own gasp of air, and for some reason looked to Zacharias as if he would have a clue to what Alex was talking about. The boy’s eyebrows went high and he slid to sit on the arm of the couch, intent on listening.
“What, wait---why? What? Why? Why would---”
“I’m going to take him to court and I’m filing to be in control of mum’s well-being.”
Jason nearly fell off the couch as he twisted to face his brother. Was he still asleep? Was he dreaming? There was no way that Alex was actually saying these words, that he was ready and willing to take on the responsibility of---
“But you’d be stuck in that house!” Jason blurted, hands going up. His chest tightened; no, no, he couldn’t let his brother do that, he couldn’t let him take his place and--and---
“Like hell I am,” Alex said, reaching out to gently swat down Zacharias’ outstretched hand (the two had an arrangement, a knut for every curse word that Alex let slip). “Once I get it, you’re going to help me find the best place to relocate her. Whether that’s Mungo’s or some other place, I don’t really care s’long as you approve.”
“He looks like he’s gonna puke, Dad,” Zacharias said.
Jason’s paled face was telling of his internal turmoil. Alex being in charge would fix so many things, but that meant fighting their father, but(!) being able to send mum to a place where she could get round-the-clock service would be ideal, but she could end up hating them for it, but--but---
He stood, clenching the front of his shirt. Jason paced away and then back, trying to even his breaths and come up with something to say.
What was there to say? Alex spoke in resolutes; this was something that was going to happen whether Jason agreed to it or not. It was a tremendous feeling, fighting so hard in two different directions. He stopped in front of his brother, lips twisted. Alex groaned.
“Please don’t cry on my birthday.”
“I’m not,” Jason almost surely lied. “But---but what if you don’t get control? Dad’ll never forgive you either way, he’ll hold you to it forever---he’s gonna be so mad, Alex, and then---what if he doesn’t let us--”
“Us? You’re in?”
Jason nodded before he realized that he was in agreement. It was the perfect answer, it was the only answer. Alex had to petition to gain control of their mother’s well-being, they’d have to put up a case that argued endangerment, he was a healer and knew that this situation wasn’t in the patient’s best interest and---and---
He had to sit. Alex heartily patted Jason’s back a few times.
“It’ll be fine, Jace,” his brother said. “You’ll be able to travel the world with that curse-breaker of yours with a guilt-free conscience.”
“Now he really looks like he’s gonna puke,” Zacharias crowed. Jason pulled away from his brother, face as red as a quaffle.
“What’s that supposed to mean!”
Alex’s eyebrows rose, “You know exactly what I mean. I saw your faces.”
“No, yeah, no I don’t,” Jason sputtered. “She’s engaged, we’re just friends, it’s not, she’s---”
“Engaged! Big fucking deal---I don’t have any knuts on me, Zac---”
“I will accept sickles or gallons---”
“Kid, if you don’t put that hand down---”
Jason stood, “I need to get started on those pancakes.”
“Yeah, you do,” Alex said, having wrestled Zacharias onto his lap when the boy had begun to recite, verbatim, the deal they had struck over foul-language. “Blueberries with bacon on the side. And before you think you’re escaping this--”
Jason’s shoulders scrunched; he had darted toward the kitchen in hopes of ending the conversation.
“--no one leaps across a continent for just a friend.”
“Blueberries and bacon, got it!” Jason yelped, ignoring the roaring laughter coming from the living room.