izzyalienqueen | Room 406, afternoon into evening

Isabel has not been having the best time of it the last week or so. There'd been the horrendous trip to LA, coming back to find out that Jack was in trouble, and then fighting with Greg. The only thing that could make things worse would be a call from Max with more of his particular brand of stupidity.

Too keyed up to even attempt sleep, Isabel sat on her bed and floated the nerf balls from the day at the beach with Cedric and Jack through the air in a complicated pattern. It was easier to focus on that then think about how closely the argument she had with Greg paralleled why everyone was mad at Jack.

The door was open.

Current Mood: morose

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"The trip to LA sucked," she said, not ready to admit to fighting with Greg or why. "Big scary demon, not much sleep. I'm glad to be home."

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"I'm glad you're home, too," he said quietly, taking a moment to trace the outline of her fingers. "LA went badly? You sounded like you were having fun when I talked to you."

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Isabel closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder. "I lied. I didn't want you to worry." Shaking her head, she gave a quiet, sad laugh. "And yes, I am aware of how ironic that is."

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Slipping his hand out of Isabel's, Jack put his arm around her, as much for himself as for her. "Believe it or not," he said, lips quirking in a smile. "I think I understand. I wish you'd told me, but I get why you didn't. Want to tell me know?"

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She tried not to flinch as Jack hit a particularly bruised spot. "In short? Big scary demon killing kids in their dreams. We had to go into their dreams to stop him. It was harder then we thought."

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"Okay. Want to tell me why you just flinched when I touched you?" He carefully pulled his arm away and turned to look at her.

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"I told you that I couldn't get hurt if I went into someone's dreams didn't I?" Isabel asked. "The thing is, this demon killed people in their dreams. When we went in, it meant we could be hurt to."

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"Isabel..." He wanted to be mad at her, for getting hurt, for coming after him when she was hurt, but he couldn't quite get there. "How bad is it? And you shouldn't have come last night if you were injured." It was mild, with only a hint of reproach, and he brushed his hand through her hair while he said it.

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"I'm tired mostly. I didn't sleep well out there," Isabel said, trying to minimize her injuries so Jack wouldn't worry. "Otherwise my ribs are bruised and I have some cuts. But I'll be fine."

She reached for his hand. "How could I not come? You were hurt."

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"Not as badly as you. But I would have done the same." Jack folded her hand between his, holding on tight. "Thank you." He kissed the side of her hand, sighing a little. "Is that all? You seem a bit," he searched for the right word and finally settled on, "off."

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"I'm tired," she said quickly. "I haven't slept well in days."

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Jack studied her, wondering what was up. "If you're mad at me, you can tell me. I know I deserve it, so feel free to yell." He could tell she was hiding something and that was the only thing he could think of.

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"I'm not, honestly!" She promised, squeezing his hand. Isabel sighed, realizing that of all people, Jack would understand. "Greg wasn't happy that I left to go with Parker last night."

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"Oh," he said, feeling guilty - again - as he looked at their joined hands. "How unhapy?"

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Jack's not the only one that can be perceptive. "It's not your fault! It was my choice to go. It was also my choice to not wake him up and let him know I was going."

"I'm not sure we're dating anymore," Isabel said sadly.

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"Oh, Isabel." Jack very carefully wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said, pressing his cheek against hers.

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A freak indoor rainstorm was the only explanation for why Jack's shoulder was suddenly damp. Honestly.

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And that's exactly what Jack would tell anyone who asked. But he stroked her hair and murmured soothing nonsense in her ear while he held her.

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Eventually the rain stopped and Isabel wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry."

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"Don't be. I think that's kind of what I'm here for." Jack untangled himself from Isabel long enough to get her a glass of water and a tissue, then sat behind her and put his arms around her waist.

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"You need a shoulder to cry on?" she asked, leaning back against him.

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"I am a shoulder to cry on," Jack corrected, and kissed her hair. "But I could use some Isabel time." He pressed his forehead into her shoulder. "Everyone else is too mad to let me touch them."

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"It didn't go well after we left?" Isabel turned her head and pressed a kiss into his hair.

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"We're all still alive, and they were willing to stay in the room while I slept," he pulled her closer, until she was sitting completely inside the circle of his arms and legs, "but I think it's going to be a long time before touching one of them isn't going to get my arm ripped off or me turned into a frog."

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She relaxed against him, reaching up to hold onto his arms as he held her. "They were worried about you. We all were. We didn't know what we'd find. What shape you'd be in."