Fic: Will Fade Into One More Today [Gen]
Title: Will Fade Into One More Today
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: Night's Fang (Inked Insanity)
Character/Pairings: Jimmy Novak/Amelia Novak. Jimmy, Amelia, Claire, Nick, Adam.
Summary: There are bad days, and there are normal days. For those forgotten in the grand story, life does go on.
Rating: Teen.
Word Count: 4250
Warnings: AU. General spoilers for season 6.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Kripke and the CW do. I'm just playing around in their sandbox.
A/N: I think somewhere down the line, this fic may have run away from me.
It's early, when he wakes up feeling too small and too detached from his body. Sunrise won't come for a while longer, and Jimmy turns on his side with great effort facing the window waiting for it. Waiting for the sounds of feet shuffling, the smell of burning toast, the faint murmurs of a low voice humming Sinatra while fingers drum on a table to the tune, and the usual muted dins he's become accustomed to as his morning alarm. Waiting for the feeling of being nothing but air and light to pass. He curls up, stretches out, trying to fill in his own body again, breathing in short quick uneasy gasps, but it doesn't work, and nothing happens. So he stays there, listening and waiting, waiting, waiting.
He barely registers the shift in the bed space next to him, barely registers Amelia's arms wrapping around him, stroking long lines up and down his arm, until she entwines their fingers together squeezing tight and hard. He barely registers any of it until her nails are digging into his palms drawing a sharp burst of pain from him. Then he's back into his own body, acutely aware of Amelia wrapped around him. It's enough for now mostly, but Amelia is already pulling away, tugging on his shoulder until he gives in and turns around to face her, letting her hands guide his head to bury itself against her chest. Jimmy settles his hand on her stomach right above the ever growing bump there, clenching and unclenching at the fabric of her nightshirt, breathing slowly easing out to match with the puffs of warm air ruffling through his hair.
He opens his mouth to say a thank you, but Amelia's fingers are already carding through his hair, and the way she holds him makes him feel as if he said it ages ago.
-
There are bad days, and there are normal days. Jimmy has learned to predict them by how he wakes up in the mornings.
The bad days are varied. Sometimes, he wakes up to the slam of the front door echoing in the whole house, telling everyone that Nick's arrived home in the uglier hours of the morning after drinking away his own nightmares. Jimmy's the one who usually goes down, meeting Adam halfway there, while Claire and Amelia stay quiet in their rooms. They've learned the hard way that Nick's a worse mess when he sees them after a night of drinking, so they stay put. Jimmy and Adam both slowly manage to get Nick upstairs to the room he shares with Adam, and onto the bed. Adam takes his shoes and socks off, cleans him up slowly, tucks him into bed, and tends to him, while Jimmy cradles his head, and lets Nick sob into his lap. Once upon a time it was Jimmy alone who did this. Even after Adam became a part of their lives, before Adam could bring himself to help. Later Jimmy and Adam go back downstairs to clean up the mess that Nick's made, only to find Claire there, picking up glass shards.
When Nick comes down later, red eyed and hungover, they pretend nothing happened, and that the new stain on the carpet was always there. Just like they do for every other time, and every other stain.
Sometimes the slam of the door is an indication that Adam has gone out earlier than normal for his run, trying to outrun his nightmares until he collapses. They always know when it's Adam, because it's not followed by the dull thump letting everyone know someone's collapsed against the door, on in the doorway. Those mornings Claire's the one that follows Adam out on his run, since she's the one who knows all his normal routes, and is probably the only one outside of Amelia who can convince him to return. Amelia sits on the couch jiggling her knee, Jimmy paces the length of the living room, while Nick makes them coffee. All of them shoot constant glances at the clock, counting down the seconds, waiting for the phone to ring and tell them that the kids are coming home.
When they do come back, Adam heads upstairs, tired, barely able to even stand, much less walk, yet stubbornly struggling to do so anyway, and locks himself in his room all day. Nicks sighs, following the boy upstairs trying to coax him out of his room. Claire's mood stays foul all day.
Sometimes it's Jimmy who wakes up, breathless and numb and feeling like he can't control his body any more. The leftover effects from his time spent as an angel's vessel. Jimmy may have lucked out and got the kinder of the angels, but his one still left his mark, unintentionally maybe, that Jimmy has yet to be able to erase in full. He curls on his side, until Amelia brings him back. They're always late to breakfast, and Nick and Adam constantly shoot him worried looks over their coffee, while Claire pretends to be completely unaware of anything, but no one says anything.
Then there are mornings when Jimmy wakes up early solely because the space next to him is empty. He pads down to find Amelia mud on her nightdress and dried dirt and blood on her palms, drawing new sigils, wards, and traps in corners of their yard, checking the already existing ones with a fervour. A leftover nightmare from her days on the run from the supernatural with Claire. Jimmy has to dodge the blows when she forgets that he is here now, it's not the angel in him, when she doesn't believe he's Jimmy but a demon using Jimmy's skin. He has to bear it, and coax her in, while she shakes and sobs in his arms. He has to set her on the couch, convince her softly that he's coming right back, that he won't disappear, while he gets the First Aid Kit Adam keeps in the bookshelf by the television set for times like this, and tends to Amelia's wounds.
These are the days when Claire comes down for breakfast, takes one look at Amelia's injured outstretched hands waiting for her to come into them, the scratches on Jimmy's face, at the way Amelia's pressed against Jimmy's side and storms out of the house. Adam sighs and goes after her, more good at finding a distraught Claire than Nick ever was. He comes back hours later, Claire quiet and stoic, clutching his shirt, and guides her to her room. These are the days when the change in Amelia's and Claire's once easy going happy mother daughter relationship are tangible. When the strain of what happened wears them both down.
These are the days when Jimmy's the one who gets drunk, and tries his hardest not to cry against Nick's shoulder, because despite how much he tried, he still couldn't keep them safe. Despite the years that have passed, Amelia still can't let it go. He does, and Nick wraps an arm around him, and lets him. And in the mornings when he wakes up, Nick, Amelia and him, are tangled on the couch covered by a blanket, even though Amelia wasn't there when they drifted off last night.
Then there are the normal days. On normal days, Jimmy wakes up just a little after sunrise. The smell of burnt toast, coffee, and whatever is cooking for breakfast wafts into the room, mixing with the smell of Amelia's shampoo, still lingering in the room, indicating she's left merely moments ago. Amelia smiles, warm and easy, at him, when he enters their dining room, hair still damp from her shower, and leans over to kiss him. Claire rolls her eyes at the two of them but still smiles at him a moment later and kisses his cheek. Nick as usual hides his small almost wistful smile, and often as of late no longer melancholic, and hands him his coffee brushing their fingers as he does so. The touch lingers, cool, but no longer cold, something that they are all thankful for. Adam fresh from his morning run, serves them all whatever he's cooked for breakfast humming Sinatra.
These are the days when Jimmy drops Claire to school on the way to work. Nick does the grocery shopping on his way home from the library. Adam spends most of his day studying for college entrance exams and helping Amelia plan the nursery. Nick cooks them dinner, because Adam and Nick have both banned Amelia from any duties until, and possibly even after the baby is born. Adam, Nick, and Claire play scrabble later while Jimmy and Amelia curl up on the couch watching them. Claire accuses Adam of cheating (he does), Adam refuses, Claire grumbles and they both end up arguing, dragging Nick into it, who looks at both Jimmy and Amelia with wide eyes for help, while they try to keep their snickering in check.
He likes the normal days because they are familiar, routine, peaceful, and most importantly uneventful. They feel like it's been this way forever. And is a way they have been this way forever.
-
Saturday nights are movie nights, because Amelia says so. Jimmy remembers when it was just them and Claire, from before, they'd always do movie nights. Nick sinks into his favourite armchair. Jimmy and Amelia settle on the couch. Claire sits on the carpet, hair tied up in a bun, blowing the steam of her hot chocolate, like she used to when she was little.
Adam's the drifter among them, a ball of constant restless energy. Sometimes he takes up the rest of the couch, head pillowed in Amelia's lap, shaking his foot constantly until Amelia runs her nails down the back of his neck, as if he were a cat, trying to soothe him. Other times he sits on the floor between Nick's legs, fingers drumming against his own thigh, dozing against Nick's knee. Mostly though, he and Claire huddle up. Claire reclining against him, as if he's a comfy chair, as if they've grown up doing this, and not allowing him to fidget about. He never pays attention to the movie, eyes constantly flitting to whomever he's curled up against, as if expecting to see them morph into someone else.
They let him drift, because they know as much as Amelia needs movie nights to remind her that they are all here, and they can have these moments of her old routine back, they know that Adam's still trying to forget the ghost of Kate Milligan who made this special for him, who still lingers behind his eyes.
Nick's never done movie nights with Sarah. Jimmy and Amelia don't want to ask why.
-
He comes home one evening to a quieter than normal house, the smell of a feast cooking, and Amelia stretched out on the couch, head pillowed on Nick's lap. Amelia's reading, and Nick's flipping through the channels on the TV searching for something interesting to watch. The noise and constant humming of ABBA from the kitchen tells Jimmy that Adam's in there. With Claire, he realises a bit later, hearing her voice ask Adam whether the dessert should be done by now.
“Why are those two cooking?” he asks sitting on the other end of the couch allowing Amelia to prop her feet on his lap. It isn't the first time Adam has decided he wanted to make dinner. Adam, likes cooking. And cleaning. Actually Adam, as they've learnt once the boy opened up, takes to any sort of housework with an almost scary enthusiasm. So Jimmy's not exactly worried about him, but Claire is a different matter altogether. Though not that worrying either. It's more curiosity about the break from their normal routine, than anything else.
Nick and Amelia both sport matching smirks at the question, and yeah Jimmy thinks, something is definitely up. He knows it's not his birthday, because that's next month. And there's still time for Amelia's birthday. And their wedding anniversary was over a few months back, so it's definitely not that.
“They thinks it's Nick's birthday” Amelia informs him kindly.
“Oh.” Jimmy says, as he finally gets it. Suddenly the whole thing makes a lot more sense than it did fifteen minutes ago. What Jimmy doesn't understand however, is why Nick and Amelia find this whole thing so amusing. He's pretty sure he's missed something. He's about to ask what, until he realises something.
“Wait, your birthday's next week.”
“Yeah.” Nick confirms smirk growing.
“They don't know, do they?”
“No. I may have said it's today. And they're making lasagna along with whatever. Do you know how long it's been since I last ate lasagna? I'm not about to tell them.”
“Oh.” Jimmy says finally, casting a glance in the direction of the kitchen, a slow amused smile forming on his face. Yeah now he gets it. He really gets it. “I'm not saving you, if they try and stab you with forks.”
“I told him the same thing.” Amelia says giggling a little.
Nick laughs, actually laughs, eyes lit up. And despite how common an occurrence it's becoming, Jimmy still takes a moment to savour the sound.
-
It's two am in the morning when Jimmy comes downstairs. Amelia had come down an hour ago saying she wanted some water, and still hadn't come back up. He's half worried he'll find her in the yard again, checking the traps and sigils.
Nick and Adam are standing by the doorway where Amelia's soft hushed voice floats in from somewhere in the living room. The both of them don't go in, but they shift a little allowing Jimmy to come and stand in between them. Some of the dimmer lights are on in there, and he can make out Claire curled up on the couch against Amelia listening, and letting Amelia's voice wash over her while she reads. It's not the first time he's seen them like this either. When Claire was younger she used to have her days when she couldn't sleep, and usually Jimmy would wake up to a cold bed and find the both of them in the living room, like this. Now, Claire has her days with insomnia, but they are a residue from those days when she and Amelia were constantly on the run never feeling safe, while Jimmy was gone.
And Jimmy stands there in the doorway just like all those times he used to in the past, not wanting to intrude. He should go in, should join them, but he doesn't. Instead he marvels at how old and tired Amelia looks. Amelia who was always eternally young and beautiful, now with dark circles under her eyes, skin on her hands wrinkling even though she's not even touching forty, no longer a glow on her features. More importantly he's astounded by how young Claire looks right now on the dim lamplight. Claire who has grown so much since Jimmy disappeared. She was a child in every sense of the word, when Jimmy left. Now at sixteen, she's close to being a young woman, baby fat gone, taller than she used to be, legs and hair longer.
Jimmy doesn't want to know exactly where Claire lies on the mental age spectrum. Her eyes are old. Sometimes when Jimmy catches it before Claire can mask it, he can see something dark and ancient lurking there, something positively haunted. More haunted and ancient than the look Nick occasionally sports, or the one he catches in his own eyes in his reflection. It's a look that mirrors the one they catch in Adam's eyes sometimes, when he's lost in his memories of somewhere. Jimmy used to think hell, but nowadays he isn't too sure.
And Jimmy wonders exactly what happened in those years he was gone, that can nearly give Amelia a nervous breakdown when it's brought up. What's changed so much that they constantly get calls from the school therapist asking if Claire is still getting those dreams, or for Claire to come in for counselling. What happened in those few moments when he used her as a vessel, that made his daughter's eyes change from childish innocence to look like that.
(Jimmy wonders if that's why they get along so well. Adam and Claire. Not because they are the closest in age amongst the rest in the household. Not because Claire is the only person who doesn't remind Adam of a ghost of someone else. Not because Claire was the one who found Adam all those months ago. But, it's the fact that they're both now old souls in far too young bodies, drifting between somewhere only they can see and the real world, and not sure if anyone else would understand.)
He's too scared to ask either, because he's afraid that he'll actually get an answer, and he knows he won't like it.
(One day he will find out. He will come downstairs, up earlier than usual, to find Adam and Claire sitting on the living room floor heads bowed, foreheads touching. Adam will be tracing the lines on Claire's palms, as if he's drawing a map. They will be talking in hushed low voices about a place far, far away in a barely remembered dream of a long buried memory of someone else. Them. And all Jimmy will catch are mentions of crystal forests, spider-silk skies, lakes and rivers of ether, and words in a different language, an ancient one he shouldn't know, and he'll get it. But that day is not today.)
So instead of going in, Jimmy stands outside Amelia and Claire's little bubble, Nick's arm wrapped around his shoulder, Adam's fingers entwining with his own squeezing his hand in some form of comfort, and listens.
-
Adam likes morning runs. He likes the feel of wind whipping through his hair, likes the feel of the first few rays of early morning sun on his skin. It's something he used to do before, he tells Jimmy one morning, when Jimmy asks. Jimmy doesn't miss the way Adam stresses on 'before', the implications and wistfulness behind the words. Jimmy misses stuff from before too. He doesn't miss the reason why Adam chooses early mornings too. It's when it's not too dark, but the sun isn't out yet, and too bright; bright like grace.
Today's a bad Nick-morning. It was two am when they finished putting him to bed. And then neither Jimmy or Adam could get any sleep after that. He leans against the kitchen counter watching Adam make breakfast, twitchier than usual, since he hasn't run today.
“We could always go out a little later. I could join you.” he says reaching out, and laying his hand over Adam's own. Jimmy hates running, hates the same feeling of wind in his face that Adam loves, because it reminds him of when Castiel would fly everywhere too fast for humans to understand, and the way he'd enjoy the feeling of air cutting against Jimmy's borrowed skin. But Adam needs it, needs to be able to go out during the parts of the day when the sun burns hot and bright, without thinking too much of him and hell. Especially if he wants to be able to follow through on his wish to go back to college.
There's the barest intake of breath from Adam before it evens out. It's a small testimony to how far Adam's come, from the wild scarred boy Claire and him found in their backyard, when doesn't flinch at the touch, or try to pull away. Jimmy remembers those days. Those days Adam would cower and curl up on himself, when he was still getting used to the fact that touches weren't always a prelude to pain after years of torture in the cage. He does however stare at where Jimmy's hands is curling around his own, almost in wonder, as if he still can't believe that those hands won't hurt him.
“No.” Adam murmurs quietly a moment later. His gaze is soft, knowing as he looks up, knowing exactly what sacrifice Jimmy will make for him. Then he huffs out, sounding amused. “Unless you want Claire pissed at you. She's dragging me out today. Big plans and all.”
Jimmy chuckles low and fond, squeezing Adam's hand again. He knows Claire, knows exactly how stubborn she can be. It's one of those aspects of hers that haven't changed since they first parted.
Nick stumbles in around that time. Red-eyed, and firmly planted between the state of exhausted, hungover, and wide awake. Suddenly they both tense again, watching as Nick sits down ungracefully on one of the chairs, reaching for the toast.
“You'll have your hands full.” Amelia says stepping into the kitchen, a welcome distraction. Her smile switches from worried when she glances at Nick to soft and fond when she notices their interlocked hands. She leans in to kiss Jimmy good morning, and then Adam's cheek, as the boy ducks down automatically to allow her. “You should stop being such a pushover when it comes to her. She has you wrapped around her little finger. The both of you. All of you, come to think of it.” Then she hesitantly pads over to Nick, squeezes his shoulder, unsure. Nick looks up, gives her a tired nod and barely there smile, and the tension in the room eases.
“Hey, at least we know she'll wear the pants in the relationship when she gets a boyfriend.” Adam says cracking eggs into the pan.
“And if she doesn't, Adam will most likely terrorise him until she does.” Jimmy adds, grinning.
“I'm not that protective of her.”
“The thing is,” Nick jumps in, saying it around his toast, “you are.”
Adam huffs out again, attempting to sound angry, but the smile doesn't leave his eyes.
-
Mentioning angels, certain names, God, or religion in general is banned in the Novak household. The crucifixes and holy water are only there to keep out the demons if they do pass by.
Also Nick and Adam are family, and they'll always be family. Never say they aren't to any of the the Novaks. Especially Claire.
-
The first time Nick steps into the new future to be nursery he freezes. Jimmy had completely forgotten about why Nick avoids the nursery.
They're all going out for dinner tonight to celebrate Jimmy's promotion, so he's come upstairs with Nick to fetch Adam. Or rather they were. Not any more. Not with Nick sinking to the floor, replaying the night he lost his family. Adam sprints out of the room going to get Amelia. Jimmy's already by his side, trying to help him up. He needs to get Nick out of the room, before it gets worse. Jimmy's been there for Nick's nightmares. He knows just how bad Nick can get, how far Nick's come from there, and the only thing in his mind right now is making sure Nick doesn't go back to that dark place.
Nick doesn't need to see those things, doesn't need to see his family dead, not even in his mind. He doesn't deserve any of it. He deserves the happy life he once had with Sarah, and the ability to raise his baby girl into a full life.
He's barely aware of when Amelia is in the room, until she settles down next to them. She cups Nick's face, making sure he meets her eyes, drawing him out forcefully from his memories back to present like she does those mornings when the remaining bits of Castiel are more than Jimmy. Between the two of them, they manage to get Nick on his feet and to their room, onto their bed, and under the covers. Nick is still between that state of catatonia and silent grief, when they slip in on either side of him, Jimmy with his arms around Nick's waist pressing kisses into Nick's neck, and Amelia carding her fingers through his hair kissing his forehead. Adam and Claire keep vigil. They stand outside the door, not entering, not disturbing, waiting until they're called.
It's when the first sob wrenches itself from Nick's throat, Jimmy hears Claire's sigh of relief. She makes her way to the bed in record time, dragging Adam with her. The bed is not made for five people, especially when two of them are giants like Nick and Adam, but they make it work. Claire squeezes until she's in between Jimmy and Nick reaching over him to hold Amelia's hand, while Adam settles between Nick's legs, contorting himself in the ways only Adam knows how.
The bed's not meant for five people, but they aren't five full people anyway. Not any more. Not after. They are broken chipped phantoms of who they used to be, but if they twist and turn and press just right, they can align their cracks to form one unit.
And hopefully tomorrow when the sunrise comes, Jimmy will smell burnt toast and coffee, and Amelia's shampoo, hear Adam humming Sinatra in their kitchen, while Claire drums her fingers in tune with Adam's humming. Amelia and Claire will kiss him good morning, and Nick will hand him his coffee, and Adam will serve him breakfast and they'll have a normal day.
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: Night's Fang (Inked Insanity)
Character/Pairings: Jimmy Novak/Amelia Novak. Jimmy, Amelia, Claire, Nick, Adam.
Summary: There are bad days, and there are normal days. For those forgotten in the grand story, life does go on.
Rating: Teen.
Word Count: 4250
Warnings: AU. General spoilers for season 6.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Kripke and the CW do. I'm just playing around in their sandbox.
A/N: I think somewhere down the line, this fic may have run away from me.
It's early, when he wakes up feeling too small and too detached from his body. Sunrise won't come for a while longer, and Jimmy turns on his side with great effort facing the window waiting for it. Waiting for the sounds of feet shuffling, the smell of burning toast, the faint murmurs of a low voice humming Sinatra while fingers drum on a table to the tune, and the usual muted dins he's become accustomed to as his morning alarm. Waiting for the feeling of being nothing but air and light to pass. He curls up, stretches out, trying to fill in his own body again, breathing in short quick uneasy gasps, but it doesn't work, and nothing happens. So he stays there, listening and waiting, waiting, waiting.
He barely registers the shift in the bed space next to him, barely registers Amelia's arms wrapping around him, stroking long lines up and down his arm, until she entwines their fingers together squeezing tight and hard. He barely registers any of it until her nails are digging into his palms drawing a sharp burst of pain from him. Then he's back into his own body, acutely aware of Amelia wrapped around him. It's enough for now mostly, but Amelia is already pulling away, tugging on his shoulder until he gives in and turns around to face her, letting her hands guide his head to bury itself against her chest. Jimmy settles his hand on her stomach right above the ever growing bump there, clenching and unclenching at the fabric of her nightshirt, breathing slowly easing out to match with the puffs of warm air ruffling through his hair.
He opens his mouth to say a thank you, but Amelia's fingers are already carding through his hair, and the way she holds him makes him feel as if he said it ages ago.
-
There are bad days, and there are normal days. Jimmy has learned to predict them by how he wakes up in the mornings.
The bad days are varied. Sometimes, he wakes up to the slam of the front door echoing in the whole house, telling everyone that Nick's arrived home in the uglier hours of the morning after drinking away his own nightmares. Jimmy's the one who usually goes down, meeting Adam halfway there, while Claire and Amelia stay quiet in their rooms. They've learned the hard way that Nick's a worse mess when he sees them after a night of drinking, so they stay put. Jimmy and Adam both slowly manage to get Nick upstairs to the room he shares with Adam, and onto the bed. Adam takes his shoes and socks off, cleans him up slowly, tucks him into bed, and tends to him, while Jimmy cradles his head, and lets Nick sob into his lap. Once upon a time it was Jimmy alone who did this. Even after Adam became a part of their lives, before Adam could bring himself to help. Later Jimmy and Adam go back downstairs to clean up the mess that Nick's made, only to find Claire there, picking up glass shards.
When Nick comes down later, red eyed and hungover, they pretend nothing happened, and that the new stain on the carpet was always there. Just like they do for every other time, and every other stain.
Sometimes the slam of the door is an indication that Adam has gone out earlier than normal for his run, trying to outrun his nightmares until he collapses. They always know when it's Adam, because it's not followed by the dull thump letting everyone know someone's collapsed against the door, on in the doorway. Those mornings Claire's the one that follows Adam out on his run, since she's the one who knows all his normal routes, and is probably the only one outside of Amelia who can convince him to return. Amelia sits on the couch jiggling her knee, Jimmy paces the length of the living room, while Nick makes them coffee. All of them shoot constant glances at the clock, counting down the seconds, waiting for the phone to ring and tell them that the kids are coming home.
When they do come back, Adam heads upstairs, tired, barely able to even stand, much less walk, yet stubbornly struggling to do so anyway, and locks himself in his room all day. Nicks sighs, following the boy upstairs trying to coax him out of his room. Claire's mood stays foul all day.
Sometimes it's Jimmy who wakes up, breathless and numb and feeling like he can't control his body any more. The leftover effects from his time spent as an angel's vessel. Jimmy may have lucked out and got the kinder of the angels, but his one still left his mark, unintentionally maybe, that Jimmy has yet to be able to erase in full. He curls on his side, until Amelia brings him back. They're always late to breakfast, and Nick and Adam constantly shoot him worried looks over their coffee, while Claire pretends to be completely unaware of anything, but no one says anything.
Then there are mornings when Jimmy wakes up early solely because the space next to him is empty. He pads down to find Amelia mud on her nightdress and dried dirt and blood on her palms, drawing new sigils, wards, and traps in corners of their yard, checking the already existing ones with a fervour. A leftover nightmare from her days on the run from the supernatural with Claire. Jimmy has to dodge the blows when she forgets that he is here now, it's not the angel in him, when she doesn't believe he's Jimmy but a demon using Jimmy's skin. He has to bear it, and coax her in, while she shakes and sobs in his arms. He has to set her on the couch, convince her softly that he's coming right back, that he won't disappear, while he gets the First Aid Kit Adam keeps in the bookshelf by the television set for times like this, and tends to Amelia's wounds.
These are the days when Claire comes down for breakfast, takes one look at Amelia's injured outstretched hands waiting for her to come into them, the scratches on Jimmy's face, at the way Amelia's pressed against Jimmy's side and storms out of the house. Adam sighs and goes after her, more good at finding a distraught Claire than Nick ever was. He comes back hours later, Claire quiet and stoic, clutching his shirt, and guides her to her room. These are the days when the change in Amelia's and Claire's once easy going happy mother daughter relationship are tangible. When the strain of what happened wears them both down.
These are the days when Jimmy's the one who gets drunk, and tries his hardest not to cry against Nick's shoulder, because despite how much he tried, he still couldn't keep them safe. Despite the years that have passed, Amelia still can't let it go. He does, and Nick wraps an arm around him, and lets him. And in the mornings when he wakes up, Nick, Amelia and him, are tangled on the couch covered by a blanket, even though Amelia wasn't there when they drifted off last night.
Then there are the normal days. On normal days, Jimmy wakes up just a little after sunrise. The smell of burnt toast, coffee, and whatever is cooking for breakfast wafts into the room, mixing with the smell of Amelia's shampoo, still lingering in the room, indicating she's left merely moments ago. Amelia smiles, warm and easy, at him, when he enters their dining room, hair still damp from her shower, and leans over to kiss him. Claire rolls her eyes at the two of them but still smiles at him a moment later and kisses his cheek. Nick as usual hides his small almost wistful smile, and often as of late no longer melancholic, and hands him his coffee brushing their fingers as he does so. The touch lingers, cool, but no longer cold, something that they are all thankful for. Adam fresh from his morning run, serves them all whatever he's cooked for breakfast humming Sinatra.
These are the days when Jimmy drops Claire to school on the way to work. Nick does the grocery shopping on his way home from the library. Adam spends most of his day studying for college entrance exams and helping Amelia plan the nursery. Nick cooks them dinner, because Adam and Nick have both banned Amelia from any duties until, and possibly even after the baby is born. Adam, Nick, and Claire play scrabble later while Jimmy and Amelia curl up on the couch watching them. Claire accuses Adam of cheating (he does), Adam refuses, Claire grumbles and they both end up arguing, dragging Nick into it, who looks at both Jimmy and Amelia with wide eyes for help, while they try to keep their snickering in check.
He likes the normal days because they are familiar, routine, peaceful, and most importantly uneventful. They feel like it's been this way forever. And is a way they have been this way forever.
-
Saturday nights are movie nights, because Amelia says so. Jimmy remembers when it was just them and Claire, from before, they'd always do movie nights. Nick sinks into his favourite armchair. Jimmy and Amelia settle on the couch. Claire sits on the carpet, hair tied up in a bun, blowing the steam of her hot chocolate, like she used to when she was little.
Adam's the drifter among them, a ball of constant restless energy. Sometimes he takes up the rest of the couch, head pillowed in Amelia's lap, shaking his foot constantly until Amelia runs her nails down the back of his neck, as if he were a cat, trying to soothe him. Other times he sits on the floor between Nick's legs, fingers drumming against his own thigh, dozing against Nick's knee. Mostly though, he and Claire huddle up. Claire reclining against him, as if he's a comfy chair, as if they've grown up doing this, and not allowing him to fidget about. He never pays attention to the movie, eyes constantly flitting to whomever he's curled up against, as if expecting to see them morph into someone else.
They let him drift, because they know as much as Amelia needs movie nights to remind her that they are all here, and they can have these moments of her old routine back, they know that Adam's still trying to forget the ghost of Kate Milligan who made this special for him, who still lingers behind his eyes.
Nick's never done movie nights with Sarah. Jimmy and Amelia don't want to ask why.
-
He comes home one evening to a quieter than normal house, the smell of a feast cooking, and Amelia stretched out on the couch, head pillowed on Nick's lap. Amelia's reading, and Nick's flipping through the channels on the TV searching for something interesting to watch. The noise and constant humming of ABBA from the kitchen tells Jimmy that Adam's in there. With Claire, he realises a bit later, hearing her voice ask Adam whether the dessert should be done by now.
“Why are those two cooking?” he asks sitting on the other end of the couch allowing Amelia to prop her feet on his lap. It isn't the first time Adam has decided he wanted to make dinner. Adam, likes cooking. And cleaning. Actually Adam, as they've learnt once the boy opened up, takes to any sort of housework with an almost scary enthusiasm. So Jimmy's not exactly worried about him, but Claire is a different matter altogether. Though not that worrying either. It's more curiosity about the break from their normal routine, than anything else.
Nick and Amelia both sport matching smirks at the question, and yeah Jimmy thinks, something is definitely up. He knows it's not his birthday, because that's next month. And there's still time for Amelia's birthday. And their wedding anniversary was over a few months back, so it's definitely not that.
“They thinks it's Nick's birthday” Amelia informs him kindly.
“Oh.” Jimmy says, as he finally gets it. Suddenly the whole thing makes a lot more sense than it did fifteen minutes ago. What Jimmy doesn't understand however, is why Nick and Amelia find this whole thing so amusing. He's pretty sure he's missed something. He's about to ask what, until he realises something.
“Wait, your birthday's next week.”
“Yeah.” Nick confirms smirk growing.
“They don't know, do they?”
“No. I may have said it's today. And they're making lasagna along with whatever. Do you know how long it's been since I last ate lasagna? I'm not about to tell them.”
“Oh.” Jimmy says finally, casting a glance in the direction of the kitchen, a slow amused smile forming on his face. Yeah now he gets it. He really gets it. “I'm not saving you, if they try and stab you with forks.”
“I told him the same thing.” Amelia says giggling a little.
Nick laughs, actually laughs, eyes lit up. And despite how common an occurrence it's becoming, Jimmy still takes a moment to savour the sound.
-
It's two am in the morning when Jimmy comes downstairs. Amelia had come down an hour ago saying she wanted some water, and still hadn't come back up. He's half worried he'll find her in the yard again, checking the traps and sigils.
Nick and Adam are standing by the doorway where Amelia's soft hushed voice floats in from somewhere in the living room. The both of them don't go in, but they shift a little allowing Jimmy to come and stand in between them. Some of the dimmer lights are on in there, and he can make out Claire curled up on the couch against Amelia listening, and letting Amelia's voice wash over her while she reads. It's not the first time he's seen them like this either. When Claire was younger she used to have her days when she couldn't sleep, and usually Jimmy would wake up to a cold bed and find the both of them in the living room, like this. Now, Claire has her days with insomnia, but they are a residue from those days when she and Amelia were constantly on the run never feeling safe, while Jimmy was gone.
And Jimmy stands there in the doorway just like all those times he used to in the past, not wanting to intrude. He should go in, should join them, but he doesn't. Instead he marvels at how old and tired Amelia looks. Amelia who was always eternally young and beautiful, now with dark circles under her eyes, skin on her hands wrinkling even though she's not even touching forty, no longer a glow on her features. More importantly he's astounded by how young Claire looks right now on the dim lamplight. Claire who has grown so much since Jimmy disappeared. She was a child in every sense of the word, when Jimmy left. Now at sixteen, she's close to being a young woman, baby fat gone, taller than she used to be, legs and hair longer.
Jimmy doesn't want to know exactly where Claire lies on the mental age spectrum. Her eyes are old. Sometimes when Jimmy catches it before Claire can mask it, he can see something dark and ancient lurking there, something positively haunted. More haunted and ancient than the look Nick occasionally sports, or the one he catches in his own eyes in his reflection. It's a look that mirrors the one they catch in Adam's eyes sometimes, when he's lost in his memories of somewhere. Jimmy used to think hell, but nowadays he isn't too sure.
And Jimmy wonders exactly what happened in those years he was gone, that can nearly give Amelia a nervous breakdown when it's brought up. What's changed so much that they constantly get calls from the school therapist asking if Claire is still getting those dreams, or for Claire to come in for counselling. What happened in those few moments when he used her as a vessel, that made his daughter's eyes change from childish innocence to look like that.
(Jimmy wonders if that's why they get along so well. Adam and Claire. Not because they are the closest in age amongst the rest in the household. Not because Claire is the only person who doesn't remind Adam of a ghost of someone else. Not because Claire was the one who found Adam all those months ago. But, it's the fact that they're both now old souls in far too young bodies, drifting between somewhere only they can see and the real world, and not sure if anyone else would understand.)
He's too scared to ask either, because he's afraid that he'll actually get an answer, and he knows he won't like it.
(One day he will find out. He will come downstairs, up earlier than usual, to find Adam and Claire sitting on the living room floor heads bowed, foreheads touching. Adam will be tracing the lines on Claire's palms, as if he's drawing a map. They will be talking in hushed low voices about a place far, far away in a barely remembered dream of a long buried memory of someone else. Them. And all Jimmy will catch are mentions of crystal forests, spider-silk skies, lakes and rivers of ether, and words in a different language, an ancient one he shouldn't know, and he'll get it. But that day is not today.)
So instead of going in, Jimmy stands outside Amelia and Claire's little bubble, Nick's arm wrapped around his shoulder, Adam's fingers entwining with his own squeezing his hand in some form of comfort, and listens.
-
Adam likes morning runs. He likes the feel of wind whipping through his hair, likes the feel of the first few rays of early morning sun on his skin. It's something he used to do before, he tells Jimmy one morning, when Jimmy asks. Jimmy doesn't miss the way Adam stresses on 'before', the implications and wistfulness behind the words. Jimmy misses stuff from before too. He doesn't miss the reason why Adam chooses early mornings too. It's when it's not too dark, but the sun isn't out yet, and too bright; bright like grace.
Today's a bad Nick-morning. It was two am when they finished putting him to bed. And then neither Jimmy or Adam could get any sleep after that. He leans against the kitchen counter watching Adam make breakfast, twitchier than usual, since he hasn't run today.
“We could always go out a little later. I could join you.” he says reaching out, and laying his hand over Adam's own. Jimmy hates running, hates the same feeling of wind in his face that Adam loves, because it reminds him of when Castiel would fly everywhere too fast for humans to understand, and the way he'd enjoy the feeling of air cutting against Jimmy's borrowed skin. But Adam needs it, needs to be able to go out during the parts of the day when the sun burns hot and bright, without thinking too much of him and hell. Especially if he wants to be able to follow through on his wish to go back to college.
There's the barest intake of breath from Adam before it evens out. It's a small testimony to how far Adam's come, from the wild scarred boy Claire and him found in their backyard, when doesn't flinch at the touch, or try to pull away. Jimmy remembers those days. Those days Adam would cower and curl up on himself, when he was still getting used to the fact that touches weren't always a prelude to pain after years of torture in the cage. He does however stare at where Jimmy's hands is curling around his own, almost in wonder, as if he still can't believe that those hands won't hurt him.
“No.” Adam murmurs quietly a moment later. His gaze is soft, knowing as he looks up, knowing exactly what sacrifice Jimmy will make for him. Then he huffs out, sounding amused. “Unless you want Claire pissed at you. She's dragging me out today. Big plans and all.”
Jimmy chuckles low and fond, squeezing Adam's hand again. He knows Claire, knows exactly how stubborn she can be. It's one of those aspects of hers that haven't changed since they first parted.
Nick stumbles in around that time. Red-eyed, and firmly planted between the state of exhausted, hungover, and wide awake. Suddenly they both tense again, watching as Nick sits down ungracefully on one of the chairs, reaching for the toast.
“You'll have your hands full.” Amelia says stepping into the kitchen, a welcome distraction. Her smile switches from worried when she glances at Nick to soft and fond when she notices their interlocked hands. She leans in to kiss Jimmy good morning, and then Adam's cheek, as the boy ducks down automatically to allow her. “You should stop being such a pushover when it comes to her. She has you wrapped around her little finger. The both of you. All of you, come to think of it.” Then she hesitantly pads over to Nick, squeezes his shoulder, unsure. Nick looks up, gives her a tired nod and barely there smile, and the tension in the room eases.
“Hey, at least we know she'll wear the pants in the relationship when she gets a boyfriend.” Adam says cracking eggs into the pan.
“And if she doesn't, Adam will most likely terrorise him until she does.” Jimmy adds, grinning.
“I'm not that protective of her.”
“The thing is,” Nick jumps in, saying it around his toast, “you are.”
Adam huffs out again, attempting to sound angry, but the smile doesn't leave his eyes.
-
Mentioning angels, certain names, God, or religion in general is banned in the Novak household. The crucifixes and holy water are only there to keep out the demons if they do pass by.
Also Nick and Adam are family, and they'll always be family. Never say they aren't to any of the the Novaks. Especially Claire.
-
The first time Nick steps into the new future to be nursery he freezes. Jimmy had completely forgotten about why Nick avoids the nursery.
They're all going out for dinner tonight to celebrate Jimmy's promotion, so he's come upstairs with Nick to fetch Adam. Or rather they were. Not any more. Not with Nick sinking to the floor, replaying the night he lost his family. Adam sprints out of the room going to get Amelia. Jimmy's already by his side, trying to help him up. He needs to get Nick out of the room, before it gets worse. Jimmy's been there for Nick's nightmares. He knows just how bad Nick can get, how far Nick's come from there, and the only thing in his mind right now is making sure Nick doesn't go back to that dark place.
Nick doesn't need to see those things, doesn't need to see his family dead, not even in his mind. He doesn't deserve any of it. He deserves the happy life he once had with Sarah, and the ability to raise his baby girl into a full life.
He's barely aware of when Amelia is in the room, until she settles down next to them. She cups Nick's face, making sure he meets her eyes, drawing him out forcefully from his memories back to present like she does those mornings when the remaining bits of Castiel are more than Jimmy. Between the two of them, they manage to get Nick on his feet and to their room, onto their bed, and under the covers. Nick is still between that state of catatonia and silent grief, when they slip in on either side of him, Jimmy with his arms around Nick's waist pressing kisses into Nick's neck, and Amelia carding her fingers through his hair kissing his forehead. Adam and Claire keep vigil. They stand outside the door, not entering, not disturbing, waiting until they're called.
It's when the first sob wrenches itself from Nick's throat, Jimmy hears Claire's sigh of relief. She makes her way to the bed in record time, dragging Adam with her. The bed is not made for five people, especially when two of them are giants like Nick and Adam, but they make it work. Claire squeezes until she's in between Jimmy and Nick reaching over him to hold Amelia's hand, while Adam settles between Nick's legs, contorting himself in the ways only Adam knows how.
The bed's not meant for five people, but they aren't five full people anyway. Not any more. Not after. They are broken chipped phantoms of who they used to be, but if they twist and turn and press just right, they can align their cracks to form one unit.
And hopefully tomorrow when the sunrise comes, Jimmy will smell burnt toast and coffee, and Amelia's shampoo, hear Adam humming Sinatra in their kitchen, while Claire drums her fingers in tune with Adam's humming. Amelia and Claire will kiss him good morning, and Nick will hand him his coffee, and Adam will serve him breakfast and they'll have a normal day.