Title: Juice, Soup and a Promise
Author: 1407graymalkin
Rating: PG
Summary: Maybe Mrs. Street doesn't actually know he and Jay aren't talking any more, or maybe she's got something up her sleeve, but when he sees her at the grocery store before school he's definitely not expecting her to ask what she asks.
Spoilers: 1.15 Blinders
A/N: For rachel_wilder who asked for Everwood so I gave her FNL instead. Beta'd by riggins_girl 
She is awesome once more.



Maybe Mrs. Street doesn't actually know he and Jay aren't talking any more, or maybe she's got something up her sleeve, but when he sees her at the grocery store before school he's definitely not expecting her to ask what she asks.

In fact, he's kinda surprised she's talking to him at all. She's got to know about the affair, everyone does.

"I hear your dad's come back to Dillon." she says conversationally when she sees him in the cereal aisle.

"Yes ma'am. Just for a visit." he says, once he realizes she's talking to him and not the box of Wheaties behind him.

"That's good. He can watch your playoff games." she smiles at him. They stand next to each other in the aisle, each staring at wall of boxes in front of them.

"Do you have school now Tim?" she asks softly after a few seconds of silence.

"No ma'am, not until this afternoon." he answers, wondering why she's still concerned about him.

"Do you mind if I ask you a favor then?" she says, turning to face him.

"No ma'am."

"Jay caught the flu when he was up in Austin at the Quad Rugby tryouts, and he's been holed up in bed, poor thing. I've stayed home the last couple of days to help him get stuff, but I have to go into work this morning and Mitch couldn't find anyone to take his shift---" she trails off and looks at him, the rest of her sentence going unfinished.

It takes him nearly a minute to figure out just what she's asking.

"You ah--want me to go over and give him a hand?" he asks slowly.

She looks so relieved that he can't possibly say no. "Tim, you don't know how much this means to me." she says, shoving her house keys into his hand and hurrying them both out of the store. She pays for his groceries as well, and he feels kind of embarrassed, even when she assures him it's the least she can do since he's helping out.

He gets both sets of groceries into his truck and drives them all the way back to the Street's. The house is dead silent when he opens the door, and he puts the bags down in the kitchen and peeks in on Jay. The TV in his room is on low, playing some daytime shit and Jay's lying down his head rolled to the side.

He remembers that Jason always use to sleep on his side, something he guesses is impossible to do now.

He feels stupid standing there, with nothing to do, so he heads back to the kitchen and unpacks all the groceries and puts them away in their proper place. It's pretty light fare, mostly orange juice and chicken noodle soup in a can.

When that's all done he goes and sits in the living room on the couch and just stares at the place that use to feel like home to him.

"MOM?" It's good to know that despite injury and illness, Jason hasn't gotten any quieter. He makes his way slowly to the room that use to be Mr. Street's office and pokes his head around the door.

"What are you doing here?" Jason asks, the bite in his tone readily apparent.

"Your mom had to work she asked me to---" he starts.

"She asked you to babysit the crippled kid?" Jason asks, flumping back down onto his pillows. The injury seems to have brought out the diva in Jason.

"No. She said you were sick." he replies, evenly. "She didn't say anything about being crippled."

Jason glares at him. Tim doesn't want a staring contest, doesn't want to have to deal with the look Jason's giving him.

"Do you need anything?" he asks. All he wants to do is walk away. He knows he's not being forgiven, that none of this is going to get better, so why's he even trying?

"Orange juice." Jason says shortly. "And an aspirin." He goes, glad to be out of there, away from the look and everything he fucked up.

The chore only takes so long and its in a matter of minutes that he's standing in the door frame again, utterly useless.

"I'm sorry." he says again, because he can't think of anything else to say.

Jason grunts and hands him the empty glass.

"I heard you went down to Austin." he tries. "For Quad Rugby, congrats."

Jason just looks at him. "What do you care?" he asks sharply.

"Jay. I never stopped caring." he says, more honest than he's probably ever been in his life.

Jason snorts this time and Tim doesn't know what to say. The thing with Lyla, he can't explain it. Maybe she can, but he can't. It wasn't a mistake, that he knows. Mistakes are something you don't do over and over again even after you know you've made them. He may not be good with language, but he knows that.

Does he love Lyla? He's not sure, and he knows it's not in the same way Street and her love each other. He just knows that she was in pain and needed something and he was in pain and needed to know he was still needed for something.

He was their caretaker. He'd taken care of Lyla, just not in the way anyone expected or approved of.

Jason's just looking at him now, searching him, as if he's trying so damn hard to deconstruct Tim.

"Can I get another glass of juice?" he asks finally. Tim nods and starts to head out, but Jason stops him,

"Thanks for helping my parents out." he says softly. "Mom really needed to take that shift."

"No problem." he says, unsure of where this leaves them.

Mr. Street comes home around 12:30, with just enough time for Tim to get back to school for his afternoon classes. Jason hasn't said much to him, he's been sleeping most of the morning. Sometimes he'll call Tim into his room and tell him about some play he's thought up that Tim should tell Coach and other times he'll just ask for more juice or soup.

"I'm leaving now." Tim tells him, handing him a final round of orange juice.

"Good luck with playoffs." Jason says softly, accepting the glass ham-fisted, fingers curled awkwardly. "I'm gonna be there on Friday, watching."

Tim nods, unsure of what to say. It's like Jason's holding out a promise to him, and it's there, just out of reach.

"Do you want to go to the party after?" he asks, turning out the door, so he doesn't have to look at him when he says no.

"You sure there's gonna be a party, you haven't even won yet."

"There'll be a party." Tim assures him.

"Maybe, I see how I'm feeling." Jason says, dangling the promise a little bit closer.

"Alright. See you Friday, 6." he says hesitantly.

"Bye Riggs." Jason replies, and it's like a million pounds of weight have fallen off his shoulders. His head feels deliriously clear. "Make sure you bring a W home to Dillon."

He nods and practically bolts from the house he wants the feeling to stay intact so badly.

"You look different." Landry says, after English. They're walking down towards the weight room, the latest English novel in hand. "Like you're glowing."

Tim stops a looks at him. "Don't be ridiculous Landry." he says.

"No really, there's something different." Landry protests, but Tim just shakes his head and smiles.

"You got back with Tyra didn't you!" Landry cries, bounding after him. "I knew it! It's that post-coital glow!"

"Nope." Tim replies, holding the door of the field house open for him. "Sorry."

"Well there's something different," the red head insists when Tim keeps smiling. "You going to tell me?"

"Nope." Tim replies, thinking about Friday.

"Not even a hint?"

"Nope."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." he says, sitting down at the bench-press.

"Fine." Landry sighs and opens the book. "The Tempest by William Shakespeare..."