Ripper Street/They tried to make me go to rehab...

[thirstforvice]

Jackson loses track of time as he lies on Drake's small bed, the Sergeant safe and warm and alive in his arms, the both of them dozing in and out of sleep. It must be days later, that they're both sufficiently awake at the same time to hold a conversation.

And, as always, Jackson doesn't hang about.

"I need you to do something for me, Bennet. And, no matter what I do, or say, you have to promise me you will do what I tell you now. Even if I change my mind in the future. Can you do that?"

Comments

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake's sleep-deprived brain tries to make sense of what he's seeing.

"But...you have your health again? It is over?"

[thirstforvice]

"It's over," Jackson promises, lying back down in the hope that Drake will follow suit.

"I feel terrible, but nothing a hot bath and a good meal won't fix."

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake sits up, wincing as he stretches.

"I'll ask Mrs Ramsey to fetch us up an 'ot meal. And the girls can fill the tub."

[thirstforvice]

"Later," Jackson frowns, reaching up to pull Drake to him.

"It's your turn to rest now."

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake accepts the embrace.

"You stink, you know," he says conversationally. "We'd both sleep much better in clean linen."

[thirstforvice]

"I don't want to disturb you," this new, conscientious version of Jackson frowns.

"I've done enough of that."

[thegentlemanthug]

"Disturb me?" Drake says with amusement. "Look at the state of my rooms, Yankee!"

Drake keeps Jackson in his arms a few moments longer before releasing him.

"Bath and breakfast. That's what we need."

[thirstforvice]

Seeing this as a fight he has no chance of winning, Jackson gives in and follows Drake to the edge of the bed. A week of bedrest, however, coupled with no food, leaves him barely able to get up, never mind stand unaided.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake pushes him back to the bed with little effort.

"Stay put," he says firmly. "Last thing we need is you falling down the stairs."

[thirstforvice]

Jackson moves back at the push, obeying silently, head bowed down. It had been stupid to even try and stand up, what was he thinking?

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake gives Jackson a quick kiss on his cheek and unlocks the door.

Mrs Ramsey looks at him with disapproval and naked relief, before shooing him out of her kitchen with the promise of a hot bath and breakfast to come.

Drake trudges back up the stairs and returns to the bed. "Homer? Bath's on its way."

[thirstforvice]

Jackson sits where he'd been left on the edge of the bed, hands clasped neatly on his lap, so different from the man he had been a week before.

"Thank you," he says, quietly.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake kneels on the floor in front of him, trying to catch Jackson's eye.

"Something wrong? Are you still hurtin'?"

[thirstforvice]

"Nothing a bath won't fix," Jackson answers, looking up and grinning. Drake seemed honestly concerned; Jackson's sure he didn't mean to push him like he had.

[thegentlemanthug]

"You seemed a hundred miles away," Drake said, concerned. "You'd tell me if there was something troubling you? I'd...I'd do anything for you. You only have t'ask."

[thirstforvice]

"I know. I promise," Jackson nods, shaking off any lingering anxiety. Drake means him nothing but good, he knows that in his heart.

"Just tired."

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake smiles and gently strokes his cheek. "When we're done with this-"

But he never gets to finish that thought, as the maids bring in the tub and a tray of fresh-cooked bacon and eggs with thick trenchers of bread.

[thirstforvice]

Jackson's not sure what looks the more appealing, but his stomach speaks for him by rumbling loudly. The bathwater will stay warm longer than the food, anyway.

"I'm starving," he admits with a laugh.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake offers Jackson his hand to lead him to the table, uncaring what the maids may think. He's had the man locked in his room for a week - they've probably done all their imaginings.

"Then we shall eat."

[thirstforvice]

"When was the last time I ate?" Jackson asks as he sits and pulls one of the plates to him. He's lost all sense of time, thinks he might have laid in that bed for a month for how he feels.

[thegentlemanthug]

"We tried some soup a few days ago," Drake says. "But you, uh, didn't keep much of it down."

Once he's sure Jackson's eating, Drake takes his own plate and takes a grateful bite of bacon.

[thirstforvice]

"Oh." Jackson looks suitably ashamed of himself, knowing full well what he must have been like, even if he remembers little of it now.

"I'm sorry."

[thegentlemanthug]

"You're all right," Drake says easily. It all seems to matter so little when Jackson's looking so well.

"How are you feeling?"

[thirstforvice]

"Tired," Jackson admits with more than a little embarrassment. He's slept for days, he doesn't understand how he can still feel so sleepy.

"But food and a bath will put that to rights, I'm sure."

[thegentlemanthug]

"And..." Drake hesitates, unsure if he wants to bring it back out into the open. "You don't want...it?"