Melting On Ice

"Emma wait!" Patrick called after me as he followed me out of the building. "At least let me drive you home."

"I can walk. It's not that far." I spat the words out at him. This was all his fault.

"I'm not going to let you walk around downtown Chicago by yourself at night." I started to slow down, realizing that he did have a point. "Just stay here while I go get my car."

"It's fine Patrick." I started to pick up speed again, my heels clapping loudly against the sidewalk. "I don't need you to drive me home. I don't want you to."

"Stop being so ridiculous! You've always been like this." I heard his footsteps stop so I stopped mine as well, not really sure if I wanted him to leave. "Even when we were kids."

"Like what?" I asked the empty street in front of me bitterly.

"You always make a big deal out of nothing! You always have to attract attention." My breathing started to get heavier as I resisted the urge to turn around and face him. "You always thought that you were so special since your parents died!" I swallowed hard before turning around to look at him. His hands were in tight fist but they started to relax as he studied my face in the dim streetlight. "Oh my god Emma," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

"No!" I screamed at him, the tears forming in my eyes. "It's good that you get it all out now! Then you don't have to go on pretending like your my friend! Pretending like you care about me." I felt a tear roll down my cheek and watched as it made a small splash on the pavement.

"I am your friend." His voice softened along with his features. "And I do care about you. More then anyone else." He reached his hand out as he started to take a step towards me. I turned quickly around and started to run as fast as was possible in high heels. "Emma!" He called after me, but didn't follow.

I angrily wiped my tears as I stomped my heels against the sidewalk, the glow of the street lamps guiding the way. Patrick was right, I was ridiculous. I was ridiculous enough to think that he was really my friend all of these years. Ridiculous enough to have fallen in love with him.

I looked around the street nervously, realizing that I had no idea where I was. I had turned down a side street so that I wouldn't even have to see the party lights, wouldn't even have to consider going back. I shuddered as the streetlight flickered above me, my heels echoing down the empty street. I had very little self-defense skills, but I hoped that they would help me if I needed them. My heart stopped as I heard someone else's footsteps fall into place with mine. I kept my head up as I started to pick up speed, too afraid to look around me.

"Where are you in a hurry to Princess?" A husky, slurred voice questioned me. I kept my head down like the video about stranger-danger that we watched in home ec had taught us. Or was it to keep your head up? It was too long ago now for me to remember.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." The voice interrupted my mental argument. I quickened my pace, reaching for my non-existent pocket as I realized that I had left my purse, containing my phone, back at the party.

"Hey!" I shrieked as someone came from the side of me and grabbed my arm. Big mistake on my part. He smiled with his coffee-stained teeth down at me. "You have such a pretty scream." His breath reeked of alcohol as it flooded my face. I bit my lip, resisting the urge to scream as he pulled hard on my hair. I noticed that he was dressed rather nicely and as other men stepped out of the shadows, I noticed that they were dressed formally too. There were just normal men about to make a bad, drunken mistake.

"Please let me go." I whispered as he squeezed my arm hard against him.

He slowly shook his head, his ugly smile showing again. "Your much to pretty for us to just let go." He leaned down and let his grimy lips touch my cheek, leaving a stain. When I flinched back, he threw me to the ground, causing all of the men to laugh happily. I grabbed my arm in pain. It didn't feel broken, but it was defiantly hurting. They had now formed a circle around me so I desperately ran in a random direction to try and escape. Two of the men grabbed me easily and threw me back down to the ground, causing more laughter.

"Help!" I started screaming, not sure what else to do. "Someone help me please!"

"Shut her up" one of them commanded and I closed my eyes as the shadows came closer, bracing myself for the pain. Instead, a bright light flashed and I looked up to see that one of the men had taken out a pocket knife that I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he had planned to do to me with it.

He dropped it as they panicked to escape the scene and I shrieked in pain as it sliced my side. "Please don't hurt me." I begged as a new shadow approached me.

"Em, it's okay. It's me." Patrick's voice soothed me as he picked me up into his arms and started to carry me to his car, careful with my bleeding side. "It's okay."

"Patrick," I sobbed into his chest. I couldn't stop crying long enough to get anything else out.

"Shhh," he smoothed out my hair as he helped me get buckled. "You're okay, let's talk later." He adjusted himself so that he was eye level with me and scanned my face, assessing the damage. By his facial reaction, I could tell it didn't look good.

"Patrick," I whispered again. I took the hand off my side to see that it was covered in blood and showed him. He made a face and for a minute I thought he was going to get sick.

"Shhh," he said again as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "You'll be okay, I promise."

* * *

"Ow!" I sucked in my breath through my teeth, trying to ignore the pain. We were sitting in Patrick's apartment, against my protest, and he was helping me clean out my cuts.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he wiped my arm with a napkin drowned in peroxide. "But it wouldn't hurt so much if you stayed still."

"Sorry," I said sarcastically and winced as he started to wrap up my arm with a bandage.

"Why did I let you go alone?" He whispered to himself.

"The same reason that you said those mean things to me." I said bitterly. "You have obviously been hit in the head with the puck too many times."

He examined my side. "You need to take the dress off for me to clean that."

"Maybe we should just go to the hospital." I suggested. I didn't happen to have a change of clothes with me.

"You mean like I suggested about fifty times on the way over here?" His voice was strained with worry and he couldn't take his eyes off the blood stain on my dress.

"Sorry, I didn't want anyone to think that I was attracting attention to myself." I snapped at him.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Em, I am so sorry. You know that I didn't mean it. Any of it."

"Do I?" I challenged. "Besides it doesn't matter if you meant it." I flinched as I started to stand and he stood to help me. "Because you said it."

He walked into his bed room, rubbing his forehead slightly, and returned with an old Blackhawks tee shirt and basket ball shorts. He handed them to me before saying, "and I'm also sorry about Derek."

"No your not" I said harshly. "Did you forget that you asked me specifically to break up with him? You've hated him ever since the day that you laid eyes on him."

"I never wanted to see you unhappy." He told me as I closed the bathroom door to change.

"Really?" I asked sarcastically through the door. "Because I was happy with Derek. And it's your fault that he dumped me. Ow." I winced as I started to take the dress off and there was a flash of pain in my side.

"Do you want me to help you?" He asked and I could tell that he already had his hand on the door knob.

"If I wanted you to see me in my underwear, I would've changed out there." I flinched again as I started to pull on his pants. They were about ten sizes too big on me so I had to hold them up as I walked out and sat down on the couch.

He grabbed a wipe to clean the cut with before coming to sit next to me. I slowly rolled up his shirt I was wearing. I looked away, not really wanting to see what had happened. "I'm sorry" he said again.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Just hurry up so that I can go home already." I felt guilty for a moment as his features saddened, but all I had to do was look down to remind myself why I was mad at him.

"Do you know why he broke up with you?" He asked it so quietly that I wasn't sure that I heard it correctly.

I bit my lip as I shook my head. "I don't know. It was sort of confusing." He nodded and I knew that he wanted me to continue. "I mean I guess he told me but I didn't really get it."

"What did he say?" He got up to go grab a bandage to wrap around my waist.

"He said-" he looked up at me expectantly while he reached around me to get the wrap around me. As I replayed the scene with Derek in my mind, I wasn't exactly sure that I wanted to tell Patrick what he had said. "He said there was someone else." I looked away from him, not sure if he could tell if I was lying.

"I'm sorry." I wondered how many times he was going to say that tonight. No matter how often he said it, I still didn't believe him.

"Okay, are we done here?" I said it harsher then intended but I was determined to stay mad at him.

"Sure, I'll go get my keys." I stopped him as he started to walk into the kitchen.

"Forget it." I started to walk towards the door. "I'll just wait for Miranda to come pick me up."

"Are you sure?" I nodded and before I closed the door I heard him whisper quietly one more time, "I am so sorry Emma."