My Dearest James

1

After making sure everything was ready for the day's breakfast, Father Coulson followed Sister Maria out to the dormitories. They knocked on every door, making sure those inside heard and were getting out of bed. After reaching the last set of doors, Sister Maria turned to him.

"It stormed last night," she stated. "Will you go, or shall I?"

"I'll go, Sister. You go ahead and join the others for breakfast," he gave her a small smile. "We'll be in shortly."

She nodded and headed back to the dining area, leaving him to fetch you and your companion.

You didn't always hate storms. In fact, you used to love them. You would help your dad bake cookies, while your mom would read to you. You loved storms, until you lost both your parents in one in an accident. Since then, they terrified you. It was part of the reason Father Coulson and Sister Maria fought to allow you to continue this habit of yours, despite others' concerns.

Another reason they allowed it, was because of James Barnes. The first two years of James' residence at the Winchester Children's Home, he kept to himself; he never played with the other children, he'd hardly eat, and he never said a word. He would do his schoolwork and his chores without complaint, but other than that, he kept to his books and his drawings.

Everything changed when you came to stay at Winchester's. When you arrived, tiny and scared, cheeks stained with tears and clutching a stuffed tiger, James immediately stuck to you, determined to make your transition easier. The nuns were a little surprised to find he was finally spending time with someone, but it was nothing compared to what they witnessed at dinner a few days after your arrival.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"C'mon, Doll, you gotta eat. Like this." He demonstrated by taking a large mouthful of his own food, chewing and swallowing it down with fervor. "Now you, ok?" He took your fork and scooped some mashed potatoes, and brought it to your lips. To his delight, you followed his example and ended up eating nearly everything on your plate, just as he did.

Though the boys and girls were supposed to be separated during meals, no one had the heart to pull either of you away. No one knew why James had taken such a liking to you. Another one of the nuns wondered if it might have been that you were only three; the same age he was when he arrived. Children of all ages came and went, but he didn't bother with any of them, so that theory was a bust.

The only times you and James were apart were during classes, mass, and at night (mostly). Every other time, he was right by your side. Though he was only five, he was already learning how to read, and he would practice by trying to teach you, as well. Whenever one of the other kids would pick on you, he would defend you no matter how old the other kid was.

"Hey crybaby!" a larger boy taunted. "Hiding behind your boyfriend?"

"Leave her alone, Brock!" James shouted as he led you away. "Don't listen to him, Doll," he'd said, trying to drown out the other child's teasing. "you're not a crybaby."

He led you to the old tree, the one with the swing no one liked, and sat you down on it, placing your tiger and his own stuffed wolf at the base before taking off saying he'd be right back. Returning with some flowers he'd picked from the nearby field, he gave them to you and posed you before settling on the ground to begin to draw. He was almost always drawing you, and he even gave you some of the drawings sometimes, making the girls in your dorm tease you over the 'squiggles'. You didn't care, you thought they were beautiful. You kept every one in a folder in your chest, along with some actual photos of the two of you Sister Maria took.

You did your best not to move so as not to ruin his work, but a question had been nagging at you and you really wanted an answer.

"James?"

"Yes?"

"What's a boyfriend?" you asked, staying as still as you could.

James put his drawing pad down and looked contemplative for a moment. After a while, he nodded to himself, coming up with a satisfactory reply.

"A boyfriend is someone who takes care of you. He makes you happy and makes sure you eat. He holds your hand and gives you flowers and kisses, and scares monsters away and gives you candy. When you grow up, he marries you and buys you ice cream whenever you want, and you live in a big house with ten puppies and dance all night because no can tell you what to do anymore. That's a boyfriend," he ended with a wide grin, picking his pad up to continue his drawing.

"Oh," you bashfully looked down at the ground. "Is Brock right? Are you my boyfriend?"

James froze, cheeks turning bright red. "Um... I think so?" He looked up at you, gauging your reaction. "Do you want me to be?"

Nodding, you returned the question. "Do you want to be?"

"Yes." He placed his pad on the ground again and made his way to the swing, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"James!" you giggled, hiding your face in embarrassment.

He thought it was the cutest thing in the world, and his drawing was forgotten for the time being. "Hold on tight, Y/N." He stepped behind you and began to push you on the swing. After a while, he wanted to finish his drawing. Before he left your side, you leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips, making him smile and turn red again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Father Coulson made his way to the activity room, finding you exactly where he knew he would; sleeping in a big chair, curled into James, who'd comforted you through the storm.

When they first found you that way, they'd let it slide given your situation. After a year passed, some concerns were raised, and many wanted to put an end to it, nipping it in the bud. Thankfully the Monsignor, Father Fury, was an old friend of Coulson's from the seminary. He and Sister Maria explained the situation, and Fury allowed it to continue, knowing the time to worry about teenage hormones was still a long way off.

Four years after you came to Winchester's, it still broke Coulson's heart to find you that way. He gently shook James awake, careful not to wake you in the process.

"How is she?" he whispered when he finally opened his eyes.

"A lot better," he replied just as quietly. "She's able to sleep through them most of the time."

"Good," Coulson smiled down at your still sleeping form. "Breakfast is ready."

James nodded and watched him leave the way he came. When he was gone, he buried his nose in your hair, nuzzling and whispering in your ear.

"Y/N, Doll? It's time to get up." No matter how many storms he helped you through, he never got tired of waking up beside you. He watched your eyes flutter open as you stretched, feeling his chest fill with all the love it could hold. "Morning."

"Morning, James," you cooed. "Did I let you sleep?"

"Yes. You did good," he praised. "Now c'mon, we gotta get dressed and go to breakfast."

You took your tiger and his wolf and walked hand in hand toward your dormitories, sharing an innocent kiss before parting ways for the few minutes it would take to wash up and dress. As usual, James was already outside your door when you stepped out, waiting to escort you to the dining hall.