Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jerome was never an early to bed early to rise type of person, usually staying up into the late hours of the night scrolling mindlessly online. It had sent Alfie into fits on occasion, he liked rebellious all nighters as much as the next guy, but he needed his beauty rest, Jerome at least tried to be conscious of this.

But with Trudy being gone these past few nights and now, freshly returned, Jerome was really having trouble keeping himself asleep, if he could even get there in the first place

Nobody in Anubis house could honestly say they'd been sleeping well these past few nights. Things had become increasingly tense in the house, and as tensions had been on the rise so did all their collective insomnia. 

Jerome sat up, suddenly deciding to play on his phone rather than keep chasing this far off dream which was sleep. He cringed as his phone beeped and buzzed into the darkness, just as he went to quiet it—

"Honestly Jerome?" Alfie sat up and mumbled angrily.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it, it just—"

"I've finally fallen asleep now will you just be quiet?" He snapped before putting his head back against the pillow, with a huff. 

Alfie had been acting colder, more distant. If Jerome had to track the behavior back to something he'd hazard a guess that it was the cellar. Jerome wished deeply to give him more than just an attitude about his ornery behavior, he found it tricky to be upset at the other boy, especially with all that's happened.

"Sorry..." he just mumbled, and stood to his feet. 

Alfie didn't move or react, and so Jerome just quietly slipped out the door. 

A culmination of feelings hit him as the cold stagnant air of the halls surrounded him, something nostalgic, yet somehow insignificant. His chest felt heavy with an aching, like it often was these days. 

Jerome was never the sentimental type, and rarely allowed himself for any sort of sulking or longing. Yet still he couldn't help but feel a sense of discord as he walked through the halls and approached the living space. 

The atmosphere gently reminded him of a rigid past, when you've been living in the same place your whole life, anything and everything can trigger the revival of memories long put to rest. 

This week, Trudy leaving had brought back dark memories. He was terrified of losing that, afraid of what's become of him without someone like her.

He sat down on the couch, and stared out the window, darkness stared back. Distantly he can hear the encroaching noise of spring bringing the earth back to life, as frogs croaked in the nearby pond and the trees once again whistled and hummed against the rhythm of the wind.

He tapped his hand against his knee, which bobbed up and down in a similar fashion. Restlessness was an awful habit he'd unfortunately had, and as the night ticked on it tended to worsen. 

Trudy had scolded him more than once, mostly when he was younger, for bumping into things or accidentally kicking the table with his shaking legs. 

Jerome conceded to himself that even despite this, he was overjoyed at her return, and beyond the fact that Victor's cooking was abysmal. 

Trudy was like seeing the light spill over the horizon, warm, comforting, familiar. Under the guise of secrecy, alone to himself, Jerome allowed room for the wish to have a mother. Had anyone ever asked he would loudly disagree, Jerome Clarke needed nothing and no one. But in secret Jerome needed Trudy, and in a way Trudy needed Jerome.

Trudy was truly a human put on this earth to take care of people, and not just because she was so good at it, but because she needed to. Some deep embedded purpose, some God given thing, something that if she did not do, she may become undone. Likewise, Jerome needed to be cared for. 

Jerome actually shook his head, embarrassed and disappointed over the thought. 

I take care of myself , Jerome thought.

He did, in his own roundabout way, he did. He took care of himself by keeping himself from harm's way, protecting his emotions, hiding himself away so that the world could never again show him what it felt like to be powerless. He was very good at it in that regard. But softness to himself and others? Jerome wouldn't dare, not unless it were under the guise of comedy, making someone laugh so they might think something of him. 

Jerome's head suddenly snapped towards the sound of a creaky floorboard in the entrance of the common room. The noise pulled him out of his dissociative thoughts.

"Jerome sweetie what are you doing awake?" The voice was warm, worried, Trudy’s.

Trudy, despite being back for a whole day, actually hadn't seen Jerome. Jerome had been dreading this moment since her return, all the feelings from the goodbye had been bottled up and stored away, now that she was back the bottle began to shake. He wanted to delay the inevitable as much as he could.

Jerome took a deep breath "nothing, I just couldn't sleep." His voice was shaky, and tired. Jerome looked back out the window, he must've been sitting there a while, because there was now a dusting of sunlight across the sky outside, the room was just barely navigable.

Trudy made quick use of the low light and joined Jerome on the couch. Jerome held his breath, pressing his lips together subtly. Any moment could be the moment he breaks, and any one thing she may do may cause his total undoing.

"Oh dear," Trudy hums a little to herself, and moves to check if he has a fever.

Jerome let out an involuntary sigh, and pressed his face against her palm, Trudy noticed, and slowly wrapped her arm around his back.

"Why did they do that to you Trudy?" Jerome says quietly.

Trudy can feel his aching, but Jerome would've died before he let go of it. Doing anything instead to not be hurt again, and if that meant being disingenuous then that's how he would be. Uncaring of how stunted or shallow that might make him, how it may end up hurting him in the long run.

It was unfair for him, Trudy concluded. The reason for her leaving wasn't something he had even been a part of, just something he'd been kept on the outskirts of and caught in the crossfire anyway. Yet still he'd likely find a way to blame himself.

Trudy didn't even know where to start, so she just pulled him into her arms. 

Jerome melted against her, throwing his own arms around her as he finally broke down in her hands. 

It seemed to not really matter how much Jerome attempted to distance himself from his emotions, he always found himself back here in Trudy's arms. Something intrinsically a part of him, a willingness to be connected even if only to her, something that kept her in his life, a sort of gravity, some miracle. 

Jerome hiccuped and hugged her tighter, eternally thankful that he had at least one person who chose to stay. One mother who would not leave. 

Trudy shushed and comforted him, petting his head softly and rocking back and forth. Selfish as it may seem, this was something she missed, never again would she find a job more gratifying. Victor had tried to take her children away for the last time, she wouldn't make the mistake of trusting him again. 

"I really really missed you Trudy," Jerome sobbed into her shoulder. His voice was reminiscent of when he was much younger, telling Trudy how he held onto a gut-wrenching hope that his parents may soon realize that they had it wrong, that they needed him. Sobbing that hope into her arms, praying it to be true.

Trudy's eyes welled with tears "I know, I know darling I'm back. It's okay," Trudy shushed him, and Jerome nodded, trying to force her words to stick into his brain, trying to convince himself that she wasn’t lying.

The two sat there for a while. Shared in a cosmic circle of rare understanding, something caught in the web of limited possibilities in human connection. The light consumed the sky around them, filling the room with wistful tones of grays and blues.

Jerome eventually pulled away, being sure to hide away from Trudy the second his face was visible, pulling his sleeves over his hands to wipe his face. 

Trudy rubbed his back "I'm so so sorry." 

"It's okay," Jerome said softly, voice hoarse.

Trudy looked at him, what could his parents have ever chosen over this? 

"I missed you, I really did," Trudy assures, Jerome nods, committing her words to memory. 

"I know you did Trudes, I'm so sorry they got you fired—" Jerome wiped his face roughly and sniffled "—I promise I won't let it happen again." 

Trudy looks at him for a moment, and leans forward placing a kiss on the top of his head "I know you won't dear, you don't worry about me okay? It's my job to look out for you. So what's say we take care of this sleeping issue hm?" 

Jerome softly protested as she heated him up some milk and honey, insisting occasionally that he was afraid of getting her in trouble, she just assured him softly that Victor wasn't coming, that she had to help him. Eventually Jerome gave up, watching her shuffle about in the kitchen.

She came with him to the room, and tucked him into bed, patting his head softly, then sitting beside him.

He blinked up at her, before saying "I'm sorry. I can be such a child sometimes." 

Trudy softly ran her thumb along his eyebrow "you are a child Jerome, it's okay." 

Jerome deflated against the mattress, frowning, turning to the side so she couldn't see that he may break down crying again. 

Trudy figured he'd heard enough from her for one night, so she just rubbed his back gently. Staying with him until his breathing deepened and slowed, until his face no longer looked twisted with pain and exhaustion. Comforting him just as she did when he was young.

Jerome had stilled wholly relaxed against his bed, Trudy nodded to herself as if to self soothe "Goodnight Jerome," whispered Trudy as she stood from her spot.

"'Night mum..." Jerome mumbled sleepily back.

Trudy felt her throat close, and her eyes began to sting with emotion, so she turned tail and quietly exited the room. 

In life, there were a million exits that people may take from your life. Most are unexpected, unremarkable, sudden, and permanent. Jerome had experienced the worst of it young, but Trudy knew that unfortunately he had not suffered all of it, it was a tragic truth that Jerome hadn’t quite grasped yet, that no matter what you did, there would always be goodbye. Trudy could only ever ensure one thing, that it would never be her memory he was forced to mourn while she was still alive. She felt blessed to know that such a sweet boy found home in her heart, and she wasn’t willing to say goodbye again.