Status: let's see how this goes, shall we?
Trace Your Shadows
it's hell on the engine
NOW
“Fi.”
Patrick’s voice breaks like a tidal wave over her, casting her into his arms the moment he’s close enough to catch her, hold her up, and keep her from falling apart in the cold hospital corridor. She’s shaking, terribly, but her eyes are dry. There isn’t time for tears, not now, not when she’s still so uncertain of everything that’s going on.
The relief Fiona had heard in Patrick’s voice is void from his face and all she can see is panic and worry. Straightening up, she pulls herself from his arms in an attempt to look strong despite the fact that she's crumbling on the inside.
“Where’s everyone? Is it just you?” Fiona whispers, feeling like that’s the only question she can bring herself to ask right now.
It’s odd, the thought of Patrick being alone in this. She thought at least Pete’s mother would be here, Dale would move mountains just to be there for her son and had done so in the past so why would she stop now? Fiona looks past Patrick down the corridor and doesn’t see the grim faces of Andy and Joe like the time before this, doesn’t see Pete’s now ex-wife with a tear stained face, nor does she see anyone else who Pete held close.
Patrick looks exhausted, giving a helpless shrug. “I haven’t – I haven’t called anyone else yet. I found him, got him here, and then immediately rang you. I don’t, oh god, I need to call Dale, let her know. The boys too, Christ.”
He looks too fragile, too spooked, and Fiona feels her heart sink through the floor. That bastard. It’s one thing for Pete to try and exit this world much like he has before, to put the people he loves through this particular brand of pain time and time again, but to have his best friend find him, the one friend who hasn’t abandoned him and has fought for Pete to stay alive for so long, that’s just too much to bear.
Fiona pulls Patrick into another hug, rubs her palm soothingly down his shuddering back and feels the first tears he’s let go of sink into her shirt. He clings to her for a moment, helpless, because at this exact moment they understood each other perfectly. The two of them were rarities, as even with all the people who have ever known and loved Pete in his life, they were two of the only people who really understood him, saw him at all his faults and lowest points, and could still stand by all his mistakes. In this moment, they see each other equally and know that the anchoring feeling of grief in their hearts is a feeling shared.
Patrick pulls away first this time, scrubbing at his face to hide away the tears. “Thank you, Fi. For being here. I know things are different between you and Pete now but I… I thought… If he makes it through this, if he hasn’t fucked us all over, that you might be the only one to drag him out, ya know? You’re the only one who ever could.”
“Patrick,” Fiona gasps, capturing a sob in her throat and taking a moment to pull herself together, shaking her head softly. “Thank you for letting me know. You’re right, things aren’t the same for us but I’d still walk over hot coals for that son of a bitch. Only…” Fiona stops, looking over her shoulder at a nearby room and wondering, is he in there? “I think I’m too late this time, Trick. I don’t know if I can keep holding his head above water.”
He’s dragging me down. She doesn’t say it out loud, but they both hear it. Patrick gives a gentle smile, reaches out to give her hand a quick squeeze. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters,” he tells her quietly, and she lets herself hold onto that thought.
“What’s going on, Patrick? Has anyone come out and told you anything yet?” Fiona finally finds the strength in her to ask, and feels her chest tighten when Patrick shakes his head, eyes soft. No news is good news, she chants quietly in her mind, wishing she could believe it.
“He was barely breathing when I found him, Fi. He was in such a bad way,” Patrick explains, his words wary. “I should… I should go make some calls. Let Dale and the rest of the boys know. You’ll be okay here?”
Fiona nods but as Patrick walks away, phone already to his ear, knows she really isn’t okay. She sits herself down in the uncomfortable plastic chair like she’s done before and waits. Waits and waits and waits, for the boy she’s always waiting on.
“Fi.”
Patrick’s voice breaks like a tidal wave over her, casting her into his arms the moment he’s close enough to catch her, hold her up, and keep her from falling apart in the cold hospital corridor. She’s shaking, terribly, but her eyes are dry. There isn’t time for tears, not now, not when she’s still so uncertain of everything that’s going on.
The relief Fiona had heard in Patrick’s voice is void from his face and all she can see is panic and worry. Straightening up, she pulls herself from his arms in an attempt to look strong despite the fact that she's crumbling on the inside.
“Where’s everyone? Is it just you?” Fiona whispers, feeling like that’s the only question she can bring herself to ask right now.
It’s odd, the thought of Patrick being alone in this. She thought at least Pete’s mother would be here, Dale would move mountains just to be there for her son and had done so in the past so why would she stop now? Fiona looks past Patrick down the corridor and doesn’t see the grim faces of Andy and Joe like the time before this, doesn’t see Pete’s now ex-wife with a tear stained face, nor does she see anyone else who Pete held close.
Patrick looks exhausted, giving a helpless shrug. “I haven’t – I haven’t called anyone else yet. I found him, got him here, and then immediately rang you. I don’t, oh god, I need to call Dale, let her know. The boys too, Christ.”
He looks too fragile, too spooked, and Fiona feels her heart sink through the floor. That bastard. It’s one thing for Pete to try and exit this world much like he has before, to put the people he loves through this particular brand of pain time and time again, but to have his best friend find him, the one friend who hasn’t abandoned him and has fought for Pete to stay alive for so long, that’s just too much to bear.
Fiona pulls Patrick into another hug, rubs her palm soothingly down his shuddering back and feels the first tears he’s let go of sink into her shirt. He clings to her for a moment, helpless, because at this exact moment they understood each other perfectly. The two of them were rarities, as even with all the people who have ever known and loved Pete in his life, they were two of the only people who really understood him, saw him at all his faults and lowest points, and could still stand by all his mistakes. In this moment, they see each other equally and know that the anchoring feeling of grief in their hearts is a feeling shared.
Patrick pulls away first this time, scrubbing at his face to hide away the tears. “Thank you, Fi. For being here. I know things are different between you and Pete now but I… I thought… If he makes it through this, if he hasn’t fucked us all over, that you might be the only one to drag him out, ya know? You’re the only one who ever could.”
“Patrick,” Fiona gasps, capturing a sob in her throat and taking a moment to pull herself together, shaking her head softly. “Thank you for letting me know. You’re right, things aren’t the same for us but I’d still walk over hot coals for that son of a bitch. Only…” Fiona stops, looking over her shoulder at a nearby room and wondering, is he in there? “I think I’m too late this time, Trick. I don’t know if I can keep holding his head above water.”
He’s dragging me down. She doesn’t say it out loud, but they both hear it. Patrick gives a gentle smile, reaches out to give her hand a quick squeeze. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters,” he tells her quietly, and she lets herself hold onto that thought.
“What’s going on, Patrick? Has anyone come out and told you anything yet?” Fiona finally finds the strength in her to ask, and feels her chest tighten when Patrick shakes his head, eyes soft. No news is good news, she chants quietly in her mind, wishing she could believe it.
“He was barely breathing when I found him, Fi. He was in such a bad way,” Patrick explains, his words wary. “I should… I should go make some calls. Let Dale and the rest of the boys know. You’ll be okay here?”
Fiona nods but as Patrick walks away, phone already to his ear, knows she really isn’t okay. She sits herself down in the uncomfortable plastic chair like she’s done before and waits. Waits and waits and waits, for the boy she’s always waiting on.
♠ ♠ ♠
i should probably mention that the 'now' chapters which focus on the present are set around mid to late hiatus, hence the changes you may be picking up on.thanks for sticking around and reading!