Ham and Eliza; stay
From your “Philip gets into a bad accident instead of dying”-AU thing, inspired by talks with Alex about how Little Judge Ham is a grossly underrated Ham:
The past year had taught Eliza how to survive, more than anything else. There were the usual strategies- surround yourself with friends and family, go for your morning jog, do more work down at the orphanage, that gives you some sense of purpose and people there know not to stare. But the easiest thing Eliza had learned is that all one had to do to survive was continue walking. If she treated her life like a bratty child in the backseat and just ignored it, and defiantly continued on, she would survive, and that was enough.
The unfortunate downside of that strategy was that when she got the flu, she was forced to stop, and then things could begin to overtake her.
“I can still go into work,” she said from underneath her pile of blankets. Alex cast her a reproachful look from the doorway.
“What do you say when I try to pull that?”
She had no answer, so she sullenly wriggled further into her cocoon. Alex walked over and kissed her forehead, ignoring her noises of protests and her unwashed hair.
“I already called in. To your work and mine. I’ll be in my office- you just call if you need anything.”
She felt an inexplicable stab of fear as Alex straightened up and headed towards the door. He was letting her sleep. She should sleep. She had woken up several times last night, and if she was being honest she hadn’t slept through the night for the past month or so, not since Phil got back from the hospital and she let Alex back into her bed. She should seize the opportunity to sleep alone.
But she very much did not want to be alone in this house or this bed. She had had enough of that this past year.
“Can you stay?” she asked. Alex stopped in the doorway and turned to face her, his own fear on his face. “I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I just want to be with you.”
He relaxed and sat down on the bed. “You sure I won’t be disturbing you?”
“No,” she said. He lay down next to her, and she shoved one of the blankets from her cocoon onto him. “Tell me about work,” she demanded.
“Mmm.” He looked over at her thoughtfully. “Have I already told you how everyone’s an idiot?”
She kicked at him as best she could under her covers. “Seriously. What you were talking about yesterday. The NAFTA thing. Have there been any updates?”
“God. No, not yet. I think they think they can just stall us out. But christ, this should have been done years ago…”
He continued and she mushed her face into his side, listening to him as best she could as the rise and fall of his stomach lulled her to sleep.
When she woke up, she felt like she had finally slept for the first time in months. Alex was gone and there was a cup of warm tea on her bedside table. She smiled and picked it up and five minutes later, the door opened.
“Good morning,” he said, when he saw that she was up. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” she said. “Come back to bed.”
