What Catholics Do

[Dr. James Campbell]

Okay, so it was a little too warm to spend the whole day in the kitchen, cooking and baking a large tray of lasagna. But it was a Saturday, and that meant James had plenty of time to fall into the same mode his mother had whenever a relative of any of their neighbors passed away. He even got Chase and Niko to help for a little while before they left for the lake for a swim. (And Chase hadn't even cut any of his extremities while chopping tomatoes. Really, the whole production was going smoothly.)

But by the time he was finished, James was rather proud of the lasagna, as well as the freezer bags of meatballs and sauce. Sure, he cooked the same as he would have for a family of four, but that just meant Mr. Weaver wouldn't have to worry about cooking for a while. (The freezer bags were for exactly that. He'd just need to thaw and heat them while cooking up some spaghetti. No prep, and just the dishes to do after.)

After calling at the hospital and the law office to make sure Cobalt wasn't at either, James headed over to the apartment complex on the other side of town. He was a recruiter, and good at it, so it wasn't hard to locate the proper Cobalt Weaver. (It helped that there was only one in the town.) When he got to the apartment, he carefully balanced the food on one arm while he knocked. Hopefully, Cobalt would be home.

[Cobalt Weaver]

As it happened, Cobalt was home. After getting the good news that Leila was going to get a liver, and could go to surgery tomorrow, Leila had sent Cobalt home with the stern warning that if he collapsed from exhaustion, she would be extremely upset. She’d left him with an inappropriate joke about not doing well in surgery just to spite him that Cobalt didn’t find very funny at all and then ushered him away. Once he was home, Cobalt had fed the cat and then collapsed on the couch with the intent to read and get used to being home again. He’d passed out in a matter of seconds.

It was odd; Cobalt didn’t sleep much on a regular basis, but once a crisis was finished, his first response was to sleep. It was annoying only because it threw off whatever sleep schedule he had left for a few days.

So when James knocked on his door, Cobalt started, unaware that he’d been sleeping at all. He blinked few times, trying to get his bearings, and then hauled himself up off the couch, stiff from being curled up in one position for several hours. Yawning slightly, he limped over and opened the door, expecting to see Riley, Elaine, or maybe Josh; he couldn’t think of who else would visit him at present.

He was taken aback to see someone who looked vaguely familiar at his door. Holding food. Cobalt stared for a second, then remembered who this man was. “…Dr. Campbell.” He shook his head slightly, clearing away the residual drowsiness, “Uh, how are you? Come in.” He stepped aside to let the other man in. He tried to think of a reason that he would be here. And then he remembered. The other day, he’d told Dr. Campbell about Leila. Oh. Well, that was nice.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"Hello, Mr. Weaver." Even without his power, James would have been able to tell that he'd woken the other man up. With a small, sheepish smile and a shrug, he stepped inside the apartment. "I'm doing pretty well. Chase and Nikki have been going to the lake pretty much every day because of this heat, though." While James had nothing against swimming as an activity, he really couldn't manage swimming in the lake.

Fish lived in there, you know.

"Anyway, I don't want to take up too much of your time, but I made this for you." He held up the foil-covered foil tray and freezer bags, as if it weren't already obvious what he was referring to. "There's lasagna and meatballs here, and they can both be frozen. You just have to heat them up, and cook some spaghetti for the meatballs." And all nicely packaged in disposable stuff, so the lawyer wouldn't have to worry about returning anything.

Of course, James was aware that this kind of charity was a little unusual. He'd only ever met Mr. Weaver once, and that was months ago. But the lawyer had really helped them, and he was going to do what he could to pay that back.

Also, Ma Campbell raised him well. "I hope your partner is doing better?"

[Cobalt Weaver]

“You can call me Cobalt.” Cobalt replied almost automatically. He thought it was weird to hear people call him “Mr. Weaver” when he wasn’t at work. “Oh. That’s good. That sounds fun.” For other people. Cobalt shared James’ reservations about swimming in a lake. It sounded fairly disgusting. In addition, although Cobalt knew how to swim, it didn’t necessarily mean he did it often. Or very well.

“…Oh.” Cobalt blinked, taking the tray and freezer bags, “Thank you. That’s—this is very nice of you.” Cobalt didn’t really know what to do in the face of this charity. It was a rather nice gesture coming from anyone, but he barely even knew Dr. Campbell.

“She is, yes.” Cobalt nodded, “Thank god. She’s going in for surgery tomorrow. The doctors are really optimistic about everything. It’s a relief.”

[ooc: sorry about the lateness and shortness <3]

[Dr. James Campbell]

"And you can call me James." Though he did like being called "doctor", it wasn't necessary.

James was used to people being a little surprised the first time he brought food over. But it wasn't just a habit, and it wasn't just feeding good, old-fashioned, Catholic guilt. Cooking was one of the things he did well--very well, actually--and when he didn't know how else to help, well, no one had ever turned down a tray of his lasagna. "Don't mention it. It's what Catholics do." Yeah, Ma Campbell had taught him that refrain as well.

"Well, that's good to hear." Admittedly, he'd only spoken to the woman briefly on the phone, and had come away from that conversation under the impression she was Cobalt's assistant. "If there is anything I could do to help, just let me know."

The lawyers had helped them deal with social services. He owed them.