#shiphaus

Lawrence locks the door behind them. She looks around the empty living room, opting to fall into one of the sofas. She shouldn't bother them until they're ready. Adam needs his rest. Lawrence is sitting at the kitchen table. Where he's got his laptop from, she has no idea. She spins around, resting her feet on the other arm of the sofa. It's hard beneath her. Even their most loved safehouse has its flaws. She fishes her phone from her pocket, turning it back on. She could do with some shitty mobile apps right now.

Time sticks in place, refusing to move. It's like she’s half asleep but instead she's wide awake, ignoring how much the phone screen stings her eyes. The seconds crawl by until it's been a full twenty-four hours, and she can pin it down to the quarter past. The smell of Lawrence's coffee drifts by. She's sitting up to make herself some when the stairs creak.

Lawrence holds his coffee up for James without looking away from his keyboard. James takes a long sip from the mug, leaving it on the table. He drops into in the gap Elyse left on the sofa. She sighs, falls backwards to be caught in his lap.

"He's okay," He tells her, the first words out of his mouth. He reaches for her hand and she notices the dried blood embedded beneath her nails. She takes his, ignoring the brown stains on it.

"So people keep telling me," Elyse murmurs, rolling her head back until she can feel the weight in her shoulders.

"Because it's true." He knocks her onto her back again. "This is part of the job. They didn't do anything too bad."

"Only broke an arm and a leg, yeah. Not bad." James squeezes her hand, knocks her cheek with it.

"He's fine. And he was asking after you." That, she sits up at, only kept seated by James's hand holding hers.

"Why didn't you say that part first!" She tries to look furious, but between the half fallen down hair, the bags that are probably under her eyes, and the paleness of her skin, she's not sure she's managing it. James's sad look tells the same story.

"You need to rest," He says. His voice has grown more serious, and she scowls. "Seriously. You look worse than Adam does." She doubts that.

"I want to see him," She states, staring James straight in the eyes. He sighs, shakes his head. Then he moves, allowing Elyse to stand up. She pulls her shirt straight as if it isn't stained with blood. James rests his hands on her shoulders.

"Come on," He says. He leans down to kiss her head, rubbing his cheek against her hair. "He might not be awake. But he's gonna say you look like shit too." Elyse laughs, a short puff of air out of her nose. She doesn't argue with him. Maybe she needs to change, but there's been no time. She wants this blood off her. She doesn't even know whose it is.

James takes them upstairs. The floorboards creak under their weight, in the same spots they always do. Adam's in the master bedroom, with the king size bed. He's awake when they enter, his face loose and the arm that isn't bound to his chest is held out as he talks. Matt's sat in a chair in the corner, phone in his hand.

"And then I-" Adam pauses, taking in the shadows blocking the doorway, "Elyse! 'Lyse!" She brightens upon seeing him, standing taller and rushing to the edge of the bed. Adam reaches his arm out, brushing it against Elyse's cheek. "You look like a mess."

James sits on the bed, "Told you so." She sticks her tongue out at him, hovering at the edge of the mattress. She looks over the dark bruises on his face, the ones that extend above the cast on his arm. No doubt there'll be more on his chest, hidden away by a loose fitting t-shirt.

"C'mere. There's lots of room." Adam reaches for her hand and tugs her forward.

Matt sighs, "Adam, you shouldn't-"

"I'm gonna," Adam replies. The tugging on Elyse's hand grows more persistent, until she crawls into bed beside him. There's enough room to fit by Adam without him moving. He tries anyway, wincing as he does. Elyse nudges his shoulder as lightly as she can.

"I'm fine. Don't hurt yourself." From her position, lying on her side, she can still see Adam's face. He's smiling at her, slightly lopsided, and all too honest. She reaches her arm across carefully, managing to rest it across Adam's waist.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, now she's comfortable. Adam shrugs. One of his fingers traces the corner of her lips.

"'M okay, just a bit drugged."

"Just a bit drugged," She repeats, as Adam taps her cheek. He nods, grinning wider. "You're so stupid, you know that?" Adam pouts, leaning forward until he can nudge into her.

"I get kidnapped, and this is what I get?" He's still joking along, but Elyse can't help her sharp breath.

"I was so worried," She murmurs, putting her hand on top of Adam's. He squashes her cheek again. Close to silent, Elyse picks up on Matt squeezing James's hand as he leaves the room, leaving Adam with her and James. She turns back to Adam, who watches her with big eyes.

"I'm okay, though. It'll heal." Elyse shuts her eyes, breathing out slowly. She tries not to think of all the nights James has lay awake. When he's woken screaming, or clutching wounds that have long healed, nightmares keeping them both from sleep. Or those nights he watches the house, watches her as if she’ll vanish. How can she pretend Adam will heal, just like that?

"She's barely slept," James tells him, lying on Adam's other side. He's on top of the covers, resting on his arms. Something pokes her cheek, and she opens her eyes to see Adam retract his arm. She squints her eyes in a lazy glare. Adam smiles back at her.

"You can sleep here," He decides. Elyse raises an eyebrow. "Right here. With me. You're not leaving 'til you sleep."

"I guess I can accept that." Elyse leans heavier into the pillow. She keeps her weight off Adam, until Adam rolls and she falls into the neat gap. His skin is warm. James shimmies down, finding his own space on the bed. She looks over Adam, at those blue eyes. "What time is it?"

"Late," James replies, "Not that it matters, with how little you've slept." She closes her eyes, resting her forehead by Adam's shoulder. "She really was worried." Adam laughs, a slight rasp to the sound. His lips press against her head and she smiles, kissing the sliver of exposed skin above his cast. 

"I'm here now," Adam says. And he is. Solid and warm beside her. With all his cuts and scrapes and broken bones. He's here. They still have him, and she tries to ignore the tears in her eyes.

"You're here now," She agrees. "Can we not do that again?"

"No promises," Adam tells her, and she knows he's right. They love the life they live. With all the dramatics and adrenaline. Maybe one day she'll be like the others. So… nonchalant about this side of things. Not today, though. Not tonight.

"I don't think we've got another kidnapping scheduled in for a few months," James adds. She shakes her head, too tired to laugh.

“Bagsy not me next time." Adam tries to raise his hand and James pulls it down just as fast. Both of them are smiling. She allows herself to close her eyes again, damp eyelashes rubbing against each other.

"I say one of the Fakes. They've had it too good for too long." There's no real venom in James's voice, only easy humour. Adam laughs.