Begging You

*Ryan*

Ryan listened to Brennan’s little sobs in the next room. He knew Scarlet was soothing him. What pissed him off was that Patrick, the baby boy’s father, was not. Three weeks had passed since the arrival of Brennan, so much had changed.

Scar had moved in. They’d gone out and bought a ton of supplies – everything from a crib to baby food. Callie and Jon visited the baby every day. Ryan didn't often go out and stayed to help out. The same couldn’t be said for Patrick.

Anger swelled through him as he thought how Patrick was out partying now. Reality didn’t seem to hit him as seriously as the rest of them. Every night, he’d come home, drunk off his ass, probably with a girl, and ridiculously loud. The fact that Patrick had yet to even touch his own son made him furious.

Not once had Patrick made an attempt to hold Brennan. Every time someone offered him, he found a way to back out or even leave. Ryan thought about what a sweet little boy Brennan was. How the baby barely cried and was the most adorable thing he’d seen in his life.

Every time Scarlet was around, Pat would pretend she wasn’t. You could see her visibly get upset and yet, it never seemed to occur to Patrick that it was wrong. The poor girl was miserable and she was doing him a huge favor. It killed Ryan.

The public was already picking up on his behavior. More indecent pictures and stories were all over the place. It wasn’t good for anyone at this point. If his, so called, mentor kept going down this path how long before it all goes downhill? Stopping it before it further progressed was the only thing anyone could do.

The front door made a loud slam. A high pitched feminine giggle indicated that Patrick was home. Ryan, shaking from anger walked out to the living room where his teammate and tonight’s latest conquest were falling all over each other.

“Go.” He told the girl. She looked at him startled, Patrick looked genuinely annoyed.

“Don’t worry about him, sweetheart.” The slurred words coming from Patrick sickened him.

“No, go. Seriously, get the fuck out of here and don’t come back.” The tall leggy red head pouted and looked put off as she walked back through the front door. His teammate looked like he was fuming.

“What the fuck, man? Really?”

“Yeah, really, Pat. What the hell is wrong with you?” At first, he looked confused but before he could even start to formulate a rebuttal, Ryan was digging into him again, he wasn’t going to waste his time. “You have a fucking kid. Grow up a little. No one should have to raise your kid for you.” He knew he was almost screaming, but he didn’t care. It was all rushing out. “Seriously, going out every night, bringing home sluts? Jesus, Pat. You haven’t even held Brennan.” He saw Patrick wince. Ryan hoped every word hit him and stung, just so he could realize how badly he was actually fucking up.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” His voice was dangerously low.

“I sure as hell don’t, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t be doing the shit you’re doing. Fuck, Pat. Scarlet is doing you a huge ass favor and you just look through her and your baby.” Hot, stinging tears were reaching the surface. Patrick needed to pull himself together. “You really can’t do what you’re doing, Pat. You’ll fuck your whole life up.”

Ryan didn’t wait for his reaction. He just walked past him, out the front door. Callie and Jon would let him stay the night. Jon would come over and fix Patrick up, it would all be okay. Hopefully, it would all be okay for Brennan.

*Patrick*

Cold water rushed over his skin, jolting him awake. His head throbbed and the cold water sliced through the fog in his head like a heated knife through butter. Pat felt like he was going to puke. “Get the fuck up, you miserable piece of shit.”

Peaking one eye opened, he saw Jon standing over him, holding a huge bucket in his arms. “You ruined my mattress asshole.” He mumbled. His brain begged for sleep and, despite the wet mattress and Jon hovering, his body started to obey.

Suddenly, Patrick was lifted off the mattress and pushed up against the wall. Jon held him a mere inch from his face. He could feel his friend’s hot breath. “What the hell are you doing, Patrick fucking Kane?”

“I was trying to sleep.” It was too early, he didn’t want to deal with this. He didn’t want to ever deal with this. It wasn’t his fault. The kid wasn’t his fault. It was all too much. Why couldn’t anyone realize that?

“You know what? I look at you and I see the miserable fuck from a few years ago, the one that punched a cabbie, that got shit faced in Madison. Jesus, you’re a poor excuse for a man.” Jon let go and shoved him hard on the wall.

Patrick stood. Anger welled through him. “You don’t fucking know man. You’re fucking Captain Serious, goddamned angel of Chicago. You know what this will do to me? This fucking mistake? I didn’t mean for any of this shit to happen!” His voice was hoarse and tears were pricking his eyes. The words were coming out without filtering through his brain. His everything was in shambles and it was only going to get worse, it was all he could think about. Kennedy had left him with a kid and his life was over.

Jon’s face contorted. The next thing Patrick knew, he was laying on the floor looking up at Jon. His right cheek throbbed. Realizing, he’d just been punched, Pat just laid there. He didn’t want to deal with this. He’d let Jon say what he wanted and leave.

“You asshole. That kid is your kid, Brennan. He didn’t do anything to you. It’s not his fault you guys fucked up. Who gives a shit about what it will do to you. You have a kid, who’s life depends on you. You’re being an asshole. You want good PR, talk to the Blackhawks PR, tell them what happened. Tell the world you have a kid. Finally grow up and take responsibility for your actions.”

The words stung, only because they were true, but right now, he was too pissed at Jon to admit it. “Fuck you, Jon. Go back to fucking your perfect little wife and stay out of my life.” Jon reared his fist back and Patrick prepared for the hit. He would deserve this one, he shouldn’t have mentioned Callie.

“Stop!” Scar’s voice made Jon pause. “Don’t hit him again.” She pleaded.

“Scar, I…” Jon couldn’t find the words to explain himself. Good, Patrick thought to himself.

Scarlet waved off Jon’s explanation and turned her attention to Patrick. “You’re so pathetic. Look at yourself, Patrick. You know, when I found out that you had a kid, I thought maybe you would step up to the plate. But look at you.” She tsked at him. “You don’t deserve Brennan. You really don’t.”

Agitation shot through him. Jon was watching with amusement. He could see Callie and Ryan in the doorway with set expressions on their face. It was a fucking intervention. “Brennan is a blessing and you treat him like a curse. He’s a little baby, Patrick!” She was screaming. Her face was red and he could see her eyes get glossy. She threw her hands up into the air like she was trying to push away all the anger.

Even with everything going on, she was still so beautiful. Something that had contributed to the drinking, he couldn’t have her, she was too good. Her hair was falling around her face and her expression was so passionate and strong. She appealed to him on every basic level and even beyond that. The anger in her eyes snapped his attention back.

“What are you going to do when the season starts huh? Expect me to live here and take care of your kid forever? Are you going to keep your son a secret, huh, Patrick? Jesus Christ. You’ve been given a beautiful baby boy and you don’t deserve him.” Tears fell from her eyes.

Patrick felt a sharp pain in his chest. It was sinking in, everything. His own eyes were leaking tears. Scarlet was right. Everyone had been right. Brennan, he thought, his son Brennan. Fear struck through him. He’d treated his son so badly, he didn’t even know if he could make up for the damage done.

A sharp slap to his face, around the same area he had been punched, pulled him out of his thoughts. Scar was bent over him, with hard eyes and red skin. “You pathetic excuse for a man.” She whispered angrily. He watched as she walked out of the room and motioned for all his friends to follow. Pat listened as they all left him in the house and slammed the door.

A soft murmuring cry reached him. Immediately, he froze. They didn’t take Brennan. Panic washed over him. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been left alone with his own son. How was he supposed to handle it.

He sat there and listening to the cry for a few moments and decided there was only one thing he could do. He could try and be a good father. Patrick stood and made his way to the baby blue room, that was his son’s. Slowly, he walked up to the side of the crib.

There was his baby. Patrick saw the younger version of himself. Small tufts of curly blonde hair were already rooted on his head. Brennan had his ears, his chin, but mostly, his eyes. He felt his own hot angry tears roll down his cheek.

How the hell could I have ignored this, he asked himself? His heart swelled painfully again. The soft cry continued. Pat reached into the crib and rubbed Brennan’s head. He could see his own hand shake. It didn’t stop the noises.

Left with no choice, he slowly under Brennan’s body. Patrick adjusted his hand so it supported his head and held his body. He was so scared, he’d never held anything so important in his arms. Not even the Stanley Cup.

Bringing him close to his body, he shushed the baby softly. The crying stopped. Relief rushed through Patrick as he started to bounce. Seeing Scar do this a few times had been his saving grace.

Patrick held Brennan a little tighter to him, Being as delicate as his hockey player hands and physique would allow. His child was the most precious thing he’d ever held. His head didn’t even his in his entire palm. He was so small, it amazed Pat. Love swelled through him.

This was his son. It felt as if the world shifted. Tears were falling from his eyes steadily now. He loved his son more than anything in the world. Fear twisted in his gut that anything would ever happen to him. A deeper fear, that he would mess up his son’s life, caused Pat to break down in tears.

Slowly, he walked to sit in the rocking chair in a corner of the room. He shifted Brennan to cradle him in his arms. Looking down at his baby boy, Patrick started to sniffle and get most of his hysterics in control. The need to talk and communicate with his son was one he’d been pushing in the back of his mind.

“I love you so much Brennan.” He told his son. “I promise that I will always be here for you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” Pat murmured. Brennan’s blue eyes were staring up into his own. “I’m going to be a good dad from now own. I’m going to try my best.”

Pat laughed through the wetness on his face. “I’ll teach you how to play hockey and throw a football. It’s going to be me and you, bud. I’m so sorry for everything so far.” He kissed the smooth skin of his forehead. “I love you.”

Finding Kennedy was on the to do list as well. Telling Chicago about Brennan needed to be addressed soon, but all that would be handled after he apologized to his friends. Pat wouldn’t be able to raise his son alone. He needed his friends and family.