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"Yeah." He puts the dry ingredients on the bench so he can grab the wets from the fridge. "You need me to pick something for you to start talking about?"
"Spin the wheel if you want. It's all awful." He rubs the back of his neck. "Um, I didn't tell you that Warren got hurt, did I? Not in the fire but - before that. When Ulla threw her fucking tantrum on deck."
That makes him look up quickly with a concerned frown. "I heard the storm, but yeah, didn't hear that part. You haven't really been talking much since we got back."
It's only a gentle comment, just a reminder he doesn't miss that sort of thing.
It's only a gentle comment, just a reminder he doesn't miss that sort of thing.
"Yeah, I wasn't really happy about it. I guess Ulla threw her tantrum, Trevor tried to stop her by throwing a knife and Warren stepped in the way."
He looks down at his hands.
He looks down at his hands.
"He was okay, though? You'd have done something already if it was that bad."
He keeps glancing back as he's cooking, checking if Jacobi needs him to come over.
He keeps glancing back as he's cooking, checking if Jacobi needs him to come over.
"Yeah, he heals."
Keep going.
He sucks air through his teeth and tilts his head a bit. "We had a fight about it. How he keeps putting himself in danger for other people. But - it was really that he put himself in danger for her. He treats her like Maxwell, which - " He pauses. "We were different. I was his right hand man. I was - well, he held me to a certain standard to keep me in line, but her?" He sniffs a bit. "She could do no wrong. He tolerated so much bullshit from her. He was - her personal cheerleader. Mostly because she was too good to have to keep in line."
There's absolutely no jealousy in his tone at that. There was no double standard - there was only what they individually needed.
Keep going.
He sucks air through his teeth and tilts his head a bit. "We had a fight about it. How he keeps putting himself in danger for other people. But - it was really that he put himself in danger for her. He treats her like Maxwell, which - " He pauses. "We were different. I was his right hand man. I was - well, he held me to a certain standard to keep me in line, but her?" He sniffs a bit. "She could do no wrong. He tolerated so much bullshit from her. He was - her personal cheerleader. Mostly because she was too good to have to keep in line."
There's absolutely no jealousy in his tone at that. There was no double standard - there was only what they individually needed.
"It's rough, right? Seeing him treat someone the way he treated Maxwell." He does pause then, to look back at Jacobi even if he doesn't look back. "You know he's not trying to replace her, but. It still feels like shit. Like he shouldn't because that's how he's supposed to treat her, not just anyone."
"Yes," he says, and there's so much relief and emotion in that word that he needs a minute to just - catch back up to himself.
"And Ulla is not her. She's not even close. She's angry and bitter and hateful. After I pulled Warren out of the fire, he asked me to get her to help heal him. She - the way she looked at him. As if he dared to get hurt. That's not her place."
"And Ulla is not her. She's not even close. She's angry and bitter and hateful. After I pulled Warren out of the fire, he asked me to get her to help heal him. She - the way she looked at him. As if he dared to get hurt. That's not her place."
"Like, she hasn't earned the right to be mad at him like that." The lines aren't hard to read between by this point. "You and Maxwell, you had to put up with him at his worst, you have the right to be as mad at him as you like. But what's she done to be able to treat him like that, right?"
Again, "Yes," with as much as he can muster. "And he just - accepts it. Encourages it. And it's not an act. I could handle it if it was an act, but it's not. It's like - "
But he's not even brave enough to say it in this space.
But he's not even brave enough to say it in this space.
This time Tim does stop cooking, and turns the stove off where he was warming the pan to turn fully back to Jacobi.
"It's like he's replacing her," he says, as quiet and as gentle as he can.
"It's like he's replacing her," he says, as quiet and as gentle as he can.
He mouth tightens to a line and he looks down. He won't confirm it out loud, but Tim's hit it spot on.
"So. You see my dilemma."
"So. You see my dilemma."
"D'you want solutions or commiseration?"
Because he can see a few solutions to that already, but he doesn't think Jacobi actually wants them. This is very much a 'being seen' kind of day.
Because he can see a few solutions to that already, but he doesn't think Jacobi actually wants them. This is very much a 'being seen' kind of day.
"I'm going to be mad at any solutions you give, so probably not that."
He sits forward.
"I know how it all sounds. That's why - I don't talk to him about it. Or I chicken out before I get that far."
He sits forward.
"I know how it all sounds. That's why - I don't talk to him about it. Or I chicken out before I get that far."
"At least you know you're supposed to," he comments wryly, resting both palms on the bench behind him and drumming his fingers quietly on the cupboards beneath. He needs a moment to think of the right words.
"...Maxwell was important, Jacobi. To you and Warren. I don't think he'd replace her, but. Well, it's not a hard conclusion to draw, from the outside. You're allowed to be mad."
"...Maxwell was important, Jacobi. To you and Warren. I don't think he'd replace her, but. Well, it's not a hard conclusion to draw, from the outside. You're allowed to be mad."
"It would break his fucking heart if I said those words to him. Because she is important."
He stands up and takes out a carton of orange juice. If he can't have a mimosa, then he'll make a screwdriver.
"Anyway, that's just - the start of it. He got hurt in the library for, again, saving someone else. The lesser Daniel, actually. I caught the tail end of it. Would have killed him if Warren hadn't just been the big, damn hero. At least this time, I - I was there to save his stupid ass."
He stands up and takes out a carton of orange juice. If he can't have a mimosa, then he'll make a screwdriver.
"Anyway, that's just - the start of it. He got hurt in the library for, again, saving someone else. The lesser Daniel, actually. I caught the tail end of it. Would have killed him if Warren hadn't just been the big, damn hero. At least this time, I - I was there to save his stupid ass."
"Christ." He turns back to the food again, but he doesn't hide the look of concern as he does. Partly because he always feels a bit guilty for using his warden item. "I heard part of it when I was with Jon - on my walkie? Nearly gave me a heart attack hearing you in the middle of it all."
He glances over his shoulder, just idly. "I'm glad you got to get him out this time."
He glances over his shoulder, just idly. "I'm glad you got to get him out this time."
"Yeah," he says with a long breath out. "I - don't know what I'd do if I lost him twice."
Just because he comes back here doesn't mean anything. It's not the same. Seeing him burned and in so much pain...
Jacobi's a little heavy handed as he pours the vodka.
"Sorry you had to hear it."
Just because he comes back here doesn't mean anything. It's not the same. Seeing him burned and in so much pain...
Jacobi's a little heavy handed as he pours the vodka.
"Sorry you had to hear it."
He shakes his head, mostly for Jacobi to see. "Don't be. It meant you were around to worry about."
He takes a breath, trying to keep it quiet despite himself, but his voice still wavers a bit when he adds, "At least you guys got out okay. It's more than I was hoping."
He takes a breath, trying to keep it quiet despite himself, but his voice still wavers a bit when he adds, "At least you guys got out okay. It's more than I was hoping."
He pauses there, taking the half step closer to Tim and just pulling him into a tight embrace.
Tim lurches slightly with the hug, not expecting it, but there's no real hesitation before he wraps his arms around Jacobi and squeezes back. His breath is shaking when he takes a deep breath, but he's just glad for the contact.
He holds him for a moment and then steps back, clearing his throat. "So. Thanks for playing Dear Abby."
"Yeah, we're not done yet." He sniffs as he turns around to check the bacon, and starts pouring the pancake mix on them. "But that can at least wait until after you've got some food in you. You look like you're gonna pass out."
"I'm not sick or anything," he tells him. "I've been eating kinda." He takes another drink of his screwdriver. "I just - haven't been sleeping well."
"Orange pulp in your mimosas doesn't count and you know it," he scolds lightly. "And I could have figured that, you're going to bleed coffee if I cut you."
He pulls out a plate to flip some pancakes clear of the heat. "Which means you've got way too much on your mind right now, so we'll keep talking until you can pass out."
He pulls out a plate to flip some pancakes clear of the heat. "Which means you've got way too much on your mind right now, so we'll keep talking until you can pass out."
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