When I Return || Perrentes

Chapter 19: The Way We Planned

Tony woke up slowly, bleary and sluggish. He opened his eyes for all of a minute and went back to sleep.

When he woke up the second time, the sun was streaming in through the window and blinding him, and Sammy had tucked himself in beside him and was snoring softly. The sheets were gathered in his fists, and he reasoned he'd been gripping them in his sleep and his fists hurt.

He turned over, squinting against the sun, and he saw, on the floor of the room, discarded cushions, pillows and blankets. They were crumpled and in disarray, the remnants of late night solidarity. He was starting to get a little too hot under the sheets, but didn't kick them off, and didn't move Sammy away to cool him down. In fact, he pulled the sheets tighter until he was sweating in the morning heat. Too warm meant there was sensation in his skin, even if it didn't penetrate the depths of his mind, where he was isolated from the strange painted world he lived in.

He lay there for a long time, and only considered moving when he heard footsteps outside the room, and then a slow, quiet, cautious knock on the door. He didn't reply, but the handle turned anyway and the door opened slowly. When it was wide enough, Jaime poked his head through the gap and looked in, saw him awake, smiled. "Hello," he said quietly, and Tony smiled and closed his eyes again, pulling the sheets up over his shoulders, squirming.

"Hm."

"Just checking you were alive," Jaime chuckled, leaving the door ajar behind him and crossing the room. Tony exhaled slowly and tried to press himself into the pillow and mattress even further. "Morning."

"Is it?"

"No" Jaime admitted, chuckling and sitting on the edge of the bed. "It's almost one pm. What time did you get to sleep?"

"Mmmm," was Tony's only response as he groaned, closing his eyes, rubbing his face. He still had a headache from crying. Sammy, disturbed by the shift in the mattress, sat up, yawned, stretched and wriggled a little closer to Jaime, who smiled and petted his head.

"Hello Sammy. Good to see you too."

Sammy wagged his tail.

"Is it really almost one?" Tony grumbled, and Jaime nodded.

"Yeah."

"You guys should have woken me up."

"We thought you needed the sleep," he said gently, and Tony's glass heart sank. He mumbled something incoherent in agreement and then rubbed his face, like he was trying to rub away last night's events. He didn't know what time it had been when he woke up the house with his shouting, but it must have been early morning.

"Mm."

"How are you?"

"Fine," he yawned. "Got a headache, but I'm fine."

"Hm," Jaime huffed briefly, trying a smile and ruffling Sammy's fur one more time before he did off the edge of the bed and crouched beside him, so he was eye level. "That's not quite what I mean."

Tony frowned and blinked. Jaime had a face that could be unreadable when he wanted it to be - he was a master of hiding his emotions, only portraying the ones he was comfortable having others see. He didn't let his worry across - but somehow Tony knew it was still there. Jaime pursed his lips, and then exhaled sharply. "Tony," he started, "I'm under absolutely no illusion that the others haven't said you can talk to them if you want. I know they're worried. Vic's worried. And when Vic's worried, I know there's usually good reason for me to be too. I'm not going to sit here and flog a dead horse and tell you that you can talk to me if you want, because that doesn't mean anything, does it? So I'm going to say something else instead that I hope means something a little different to you. Any old fool can tell you that you can talk to them, but that doesn't matter. What I'm saying is not that you can talk to us. I'm saying that we'll listen."