Status: New and Active!
Nobody's Hero
III. || Becoming a Target
A few days later, Phoenix was released from the hospital. Andy wanted to give her a ride home, but she insisted that Patrick could do it. The few days she'd spent in the hospital, she'd pretty much been ignoring Andy altogether. He'd called and texted but she'd been very vague and distant with her replies. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally say too much to him and make him a target for Pat too.
She wasn't sure when or how things had gotten the way they had with Pat. They hadn't always been; when they'd first gotten together he'd been sweet and kind and wonderful. To be completely honest, he'd reminded her of Andy a lot. She thought maybe that's what his appeal had been from the start. She'd denied to herself for a long time that Andy was the standard that other guys had to live up to, but as soon as she'd admitted it to herself, finding a guy had become a lot easier. Apparently her judgement was still pretty bad despite that.
She also didn't really know why she just couldn't tell Pat to get lost. It surely wasn't because she was in love with him - she wasn't and didn't pretend to be, and she sure as hell knew he didn't love her at all. Mostly, she thought, it was just because she liked the attention he gave her when it was positive. When he wasn't drunk or overly angry about anything, he was a really sweet and funny guy. She knew that wasn't a good reason to keep him around. She knew she needed to get away from him. But deep down, she was mostly just absolutely terrified of him and had no idea how to get away. He'd told her before he'd kill her if she left, and she completely believed him.
She wished more than anything she could tell Andy. She'd never kept any sort of secret from him, let alone one that big. She was honestly surprised he hadn't picked up on it before. The broken nose and ribs Pat had given her this time definitely weren't the first injuries he'd given her. Andy had noticed the multiple black eyes and had asked about them, but she was pretty sure he'd bought her bullshit stories. If he hadn't, he hadn't said anything else about it, anyway.
When she and Pat got back to the apartment they shared, he didn't let her out of his sight for a long time. She was pretty sure he was watching her to make sure she wasn't going to ask anyone for help in any way. Finally, a few hours later he seemed satisfied with her level of compliance and went out with his friends, 'reminding' her to stay at home and rest.
The first thing she did was call Andy.
"Belle?! Why the fuck haven't you been answering my calls?" he asked, picking up after the first ring. He'd called her a handful of times since she'd been home, but she'd kept her phone on silent to keep Pat calm.
"I was just... napping. I'm okay, Scar. Really," she told him through the phone, knowing he probably didn't believe her at all.
"You're not okay, Phoenix. I know you. I know you didn't just get drunk and destroy your own apartment and yourself. You're an idiot, but you're not that big of an idiot," he said, and she scoffed.
"Thanks. Love you too," she said sarcastically, wishing she could see his face.
"You know what I fucking meant. If he's hurting you, you need to tell me," Andy said, and she could hear the concern in his voice and knew that she was breaking his heart by acting like everything was okay. He obviously knew it wasn't and she wished more than anything she could tell him the truth. She just wasn't willing to let him become a target too. She knew what Pat had done to her, someone he claimed to love. She couldn't even imagine what he'd do to Andy, someone who he'd never even claimed to like.
"Andy, just leave it alone. Everything is fine," she said, trying her best to sound convincing. She knew he wasn't going to buy it and he didn't.
"Bullshit. We're supposed to be best friends, Phoenix. Supposed to tell each other everything, remember?" he asked her, and the pain behind the words made her eyes fill with tears. She knew he just wanted to help her and it was killing him that she wouldn't let him. Andy had always been the protector type and didn't quite know what to do with himself if he wasn't allowed to be.
"Andy, I can't," she said, and no more than a few seconds after the words left her lips, the front door of the apartment flew open and Patrick stumbled through, somehow already tipsy even though he'd only left no more than a half hour before.
She wasn't sure when or how things had gotten the way they had with Pat. They hadn't always been; when they'd first gotten together he'd been sweet and kind and wonderful. To be completely honest, he'd reminded her of Andy a lot. She thought maybe that's what his appeal had been from the start. She'd denied to herself for a long time that Andy was the standard that other guys had to live up to, but as soon as she'd admitted it to herself, finding a guy had become a lot easier. Apparently her judgement was still pretty bad despite that.
She also didn't really know why she just couldn't tell Pat to get lost. It surely wasn't because she was in love with him - she wasn't and didn't pretend to be, and she sure as hell knew he didn't love her at all. Mostly, she thought, it was just because she liked the attention he gave her when it was positive. When he wasn't drunk or overly angry about anything, he was a really sweet and funny guy. She knew that wasn't a good reason to keep him around. She knew she needed to get away from him. But deep down, she was mostly just absolutely terrified of him and had no idea how to get away. He'd told her before he'd kill her if she left, and she completely believed him.
She wished more than anything she could tell Andy. She'd never kept any sort of secret from him, let alone one that big. She was honestly surprised he hadn't picked up on it before. The broken nose and ribs Pat had given her this time definitely weren't the first injuries he'd given her. Andy had noticed the multiple black eyes and had asked about them, but she was pretty sure he'd bought her bullshit stories. If he hadn't, he hadn't said anything else about it, anyway.
When she and Pat got back to the apartment they shared, he didn't let her out of his sight for a long time. She was pretty sure he was watching her to make sure she wasn't going to ask anyone for help in any way. Finally, a few hours later he seemed satisfied with her level of compliance and went out with his friends, 'reminding' her to stay at home and rest.
The first thing she did was call Andy.
"Belle?! Why the fuck haven't you been answering my calls?" he asked, picking up after the first ring. He'd called her a handful of times since she'd been home, but she'd kept her phone on silent to keep Pat calm.
"I was just... napping. I'm okay, Scar. Really," she told him through the phone, knowing he probably didn't believe her at all.
"You're not okay, Phoenix. I know you. I know you didn't just get drunk and destroy your own apartment and yourself. You're an idiot, but you're not that big of an idiot," he said, and she scoffed.
"Thanks. Love you too," she said sarcastically, wishing she could see his face.
"You know what I fucking meant. If he's hurting you, you need to tell me," Andy said, and she could hear the concern in his voice and knew that she was breaking his heart by acting like everything was okay. He obviously knew it wasn't and she wished more than anything she could tell him the truth. She just wasn't willing to let him become a target too. She knew what Pat had done to her, someone he claimed to love. She couldn't even imagine what he'd do to Andy, someone who he'd never even claimed to like.
"Andy, just leave it alone. Everything is fine," she said, trying her best to sound convincing. She knew he wasn't going to buy it and he didn't.
"Bullshit. We're supposed to be best friends, Phoenix. Supposed to tell each other everything, remember?" he asked her, and the pain behind the words made her eyes fill with tears. She knew he just wanted to help her and it was killing him that she wouldn't let him. Andy had always been the protector type and didn't quite know what to do with himself if he wasn't allowed to be.
"Andy, I can't," she said, and no more than a few seconds after the words left her lips, the front door of the apartment flew open and Patrick stumbled through, somehow already tipsy even though he'd only left no more than a half hour before.