26
Simon
Nothing could take Simon up the stairs to the fourth floor quickly enough. Pulse like shotgun fire in his ears, footsteps like thunder against the steps, he slammed through the door leading from the stairwell to the apartment hallway and launched himself at apartment 401. Parker shrieked inconsolably with fear from the other side of the wall, so loud that not even the booming beat of Simon’s heart could drown it out. He had to get in there. He had to make things better. But no matter how many times he tried to fit the key in the lock, he missed, leaving spiderweb scratch marks on the surrounding metal.
Jayne.
Alone, and scared, and left to tend to Parker, how poorly did his brother feel? How much did he hurt? Simon hooked the tip of the key in the lock, but he couldn’t force it in. After a few wasted attempts, it escaped the lock. Exasperated, Simon laid his free hand on the door and bowed his head. Two inches of wood separated him from Jayne—barred him from comforting the man who needed his help. One turn of a key. One flick of a lock.
Why was he so helpless? Even the most trivial tasks were too intense for him to handle.
Tears clustered behind Simon’s eyes. He tried to jam the key in the lock again, but it wouldn’t thread itself correctly. He tried again, and again, until a presence made itself apparent behind him, and Simon became aware that he was no longer alone. A familiar hand closed over his, broad, calloused, and strong. In its grasp, Simon’s hand went still.
“You’ve gotta take it easy, Kid,” Harlow whispered against the back of his ear. They were so close that the heat emitted from Harlow’s sunshine-soaked clothes warmed him, a promise of summer still to come. “It’s okay. He’s gone, and I’m here. Jayne’s got nothing to worry about.”
His touch gentle, Harlow guided Simon’s hand so the key was introduced to the lock. Under his direction, they slid the key inside.
“I’ve got this,” Harlow promised. He turned Simon’s hand, and as he did, the lock clicked. Simon stared at it in disbelief, unable to form words. “We’vegot this. I know that it’s scary, but everything’s gonna be okay.”
Every ounce as tender as he’d been moments before, Harlow righted Simon’s hand and brought it back from the lock. The key parted seamlessly.
“You ready to go inside?” Harlow asked. “I’m guessing that you’re going to need to be strong for your brother. If you need some more time, that’s okay—you need to worry about you, too. I can step in if you need me to. No one’s going to hold it against you.”
The pressure behind Simon’s eyes—the tears that refused to fall—vanished. He sucked in a deep breath through his injured nose, then shook his head slowly. “No, I’m okay.”
“You got this?”
“I’ve got this.”
Simon heard the grin in Harlow’s voice. “I’m going to hold you to it, you know.”
Harlow’s hand fell away, but Simon still felt the ghost of its touch on his skin. A shiver worked its way between his shoulder blades, then tumbled down his spine. Strung tight with emotion, both positive and negative, he opened the door and stepped inside.
“Jayne?” Simon asked. He left the door open, trusting Harlow, Shep, and Evie to deal with it. “Jayne, it’s me. He’s gone now. You’re going to be okay.”
It was a short walk from the front door to the living room doorway. Jayne, stony faced, stood at the foot of the air mattress, Parker tucked against his chest. His eyes were empty, set at a point in the distance invisible to the observable world. He stroked Parker’s back in sluggish circles, his lips moving soundlessly, as if disturbing the air near Parker’s hair would be enough to comfort his son.
“Jayne,” Simon croaked, his voice hoarse. He swept into the room and hugged Jayne from the side, careful not to crush Parker. “It’s okay. It’s over now. Harlow made him leave, and he’s not coming back. If he does, Harlow will take care of it. You don’t have to worry.”
“What could I have done?” Jayne asked. His voice was stripped of emotion, almost mechanical. He didn’t lean into Simon’s touch, nor did he drop his hand from Parker’s back. “What could I have done better?”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” Simon withdrew and pursed his lips. He wanted to take Parker from Jayne so he could calm him down, but at the same time, he didn’t want to separate Jayne from his child.
Jayne’s gaze remained distant, shuttered, like his soul had closed itself down in anticipation of a hostile winter and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. “If he’d broken in, what would have happened?”
“It didn’t happen. You don’t have to worry.”
“If he’d broken in,” Jayne stressed. “He would have tried to kill me, wouldn’t he? He would have tried to kill me and Parker.”
“Jayne…”
“What are we going to do?” Jayne asked. Emotion trickled back into his voice, making it waver. “What the hell are we going to do?”
The door closed, audible over Parker’s shrieking. A hand squeezed Simon’s arm, too small and soft to be Harlow’s. Shep had joined them. He slotted into place by Jayne’s side and held out his arms. To Simon’s surprise, Jayne willingly parted with Parker, passing him to Shep, who held him to his chest and rocked him back and forth.
“I’m going to try to get Parker settled, okay, guys?” Shep asked. The typical teenage anger he so often hid behind was gone, revealing the frightened child he was. Shep acted tough, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with a situation like this. None of them were. “It’s gonna be okay. We got this.”
“Thank you, Shep,” Jayne said. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.
