Chapter 2: James Sunderland
James stumbled into the kitchen; hand patting the wall for the light switch. When it finally connected, the room assaulted him with far too much brightness for three in the morning. He groaned lightly, a hand shielding his eyes for a moment before going back down. From the kitchen window above the sink, a slice of moon decorated the sky and the blond wished he was in a better space to enjoy it. The creeping remembrance of his nightmare edged the corners of his brain and he shivered; partly to force himself to forget and partly from the fear that prickled his skin. His body went to automatic as his brain did its best to numb and calm. James rummaged the cupboards for a mug, a tea bag, honey, and then from a drawer, a spoon. He put the items in their order on the counter and filled the mug with water, placing it in the microwave, hand poised at the number pad. For some reason, flashes of the nightmare were sparking back and his eyes squeezed shut, hand hovering at the appliance as his lips pulled tight. The pressure of tension in his face brought a fuzz of noise in his ears as stars erupted behind his lids.
Usually it worked, putting himself in this strange zone, but evidently not well enough.
He hadn’t noticed footsteps approaching.
“What are you doing?”
James nearly jumped out of his skin, body jolting with surprise as his eyes shot open to zero in on the source of the sound. Heather leaned against the doorframe, her eyes almost as wide as James', hands up and showing palms.
“Whoa,” she said, “sorry, dude…”
James let out a breath; shoulders hunched and tense, “I-it’s fine.”
He didn’t know how to talk to her as well as her father but he did his best to smile. It was the least he could do to be pleasant.
“Was just making some tea.” he explained, as Heather made her way in the kitchen, too.
She nodded, yawning a little and getting a glass for herself, filling it with water. She gave James space as she leaned against the fridge, eyeing him from behind as he punched numbers into the microwave.
“We have a kettle, you know.”
James stiffened slightly, head turning a bit over his shoulder, “I know…”
Heather shrugged, taking a few sips of water. James hit enter on the microwave’s display; hand running through his hair as the appliance started up and droned. And then, it began to spark.
It was sparking?
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Heather let out a soft curse, fumbling to set her glass down, as the glow in the microwave grew. James simply stood, watching.
“J-jesus, James-!”
The teen rushed to the man’s side, pulling open the door with force. The sound died down as well as the glow and the culprit showed its face proudly.
The spoon.
It stuck out of the mug, mocking James.
He gathered himself. Heather stared at him with concern.
“Oh, geez.” he gingerly took hold of the mug, “I swore that…that wasn’t there…”
Heather backed up as James removed the spoon; shaking the excess water into the sink before setting it on the counter where it belonged. He carefully, quietly, put the mug back and let the time resume, keeping an eye on it for a moment before leaning against the counter. No more sparks.
“Sorry - thank you, Heather.”
The teen offered a quiet ‘sure’ in reply as she leaned opposite of James against the fridge once more. Her arms crossed over her chest and she watched James smash the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“My dad’s done that, too.” she said softly. James perked a little.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, he sleeps awful sometimes, I mean, you’ve seen it, right? And so he’ll kind of just… get all foggy, that’s how he says it.”
James nodded.
“Is it hard for you too?” she asked.
James didn’t follow. The microwave beeped loudly behind him and he turned.
“Sleeping and stuff, I mean.”
The man took the now hot water from the microwave, goosebumps traveling up his arms at the warmth it radiated into his palm. Setting it down, he dropped in the tea bag before filling the spoon with honey and putting it in there too. He turned to lean against the counter once more to let it all steep.
“Sometimes, it’s hard.” he finally answered, voice soft as usual, “Not all the time…”
He hadn’t gotten nightmares like this before Mary- before she- and before Silen- the thoughts buzzed and fizzled each time he tried to connect them together and make them whole.
His head hurt.
“I get that.” Heather replied, “I’m only up cause of fucking homework.”
The swear escaped her lips easily and she tensed, fingers at her lips, eyes peering at James. He didn’t seem to care, though, looking at his tea and giving the spoon a stir. The liquid had turned just the right color and he took a tentative sip. It needed something.
“Can you hand me the milk?”
Heather’s brows rose, “Oh…sure.”
She turned, opened the fridge, and passed the dairy over to the man. His actions were practiced, taking the jug, shaking it, giving it a quick smell before pouring a bit into his mug and passing it back. His eyes flicked up to meet Heather’s.
“What’s your homework?”
Heather cleared her throat, “Just some shitty math stuff…”
James took another sip of his tea, which tasted much better now, “Want me to look at it?”
The teen’s lips pulled into a hopeful smile and she nodded. James nodded back and moved to the kitchen table. Heather retreated quickly, to grab her supplies - a flurry of papers, a heavy textbook, calculator, and pencils - spilling them on the table haphazardly. James peeked at the book’s cover and sipped his tea slowly.
Pre-Calc. Alright.
The two sat shoulder to shoulder, Heather catching James up on what she’d done and what she still needed to do. The clock ticked away as the strange alliance formed and Heather finally understood some of the material, conquering it easily once she had a handle on this. It was a scene as ordinary as ever to an outsider though quite surprising with all things considered. And most surprised of all, was Harry, who stumbled upon the pair fast asleep at the table. He’d risen with the sun and couldn’t help but shake his head with a smile before gently waking them up.
Chapter 2 End.