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muse_shuffle | September Disc Two
Oct. 4th, 2008 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sexyinscrubsTrack 3. I'll always be there for you // That means no time to waste // Whenever there's a chance
(Air – ‘Cherry Blossom Girl’)
Co-written with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pullmysteth
[Follows THIS]
Riley flopped down in the chair beside Pat’s hospital bed and pulled the baseball cap off his head, sending his curly hair sticking up in all directions. It had most definitely been used as a disguise. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and be stuck talking to a one of his colleagues. If he wasn't so worried about Pat, he wouldn't even be at PPTH in the first place. He looked at Pat with a mixture of tiredness and helplessness. “This is all just a ploy to get me out of the house, isn’t it?” he joked half-heartedly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed.
Pat gave a small, succinct nod. “Oh, of course, darling. Mmhmm, absolutely. The sutures and IV are all pretty fabulous props, aren’t they? Now if only I could get a doctor as sexy as you to give me a sponge bath and my evil genius plotting will be complete.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m liable to accidentally drown you in the basin of water,” Riley said with a faint smirk. He glanced at Pat’s bandaged hand. “Yodalan said you cut yourself on a knife doing the washing up. Hand went numb. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. You burnt yourself on the coffee you dropped last time. Am I going to have to come around and start babysitting you more?”
Pat ran his tongue along his lips, wetting them. He shrugged slightly. “Oh please. Like you’d be an ample babysitter in your condition,” he teased, though there wasn’t any real amusement behind it. “I’m not… really sure what to do, darling,” he admitted softly.
“What do you mean, Pat?” Riley asked, frowning. “Come on, you know this is just the MS talking. You always get down when you land back in hospital. Who can blame you?”
Pat shook his head. “It’s not that. I just have to be practical about this. The MS is so unpredictable right now; there is no real pattern. I don’t think it’s safe for me to keep living on my own. I really thought… hoped… I could pull it off, but it seems not. Lachie and Tara said I can go stay with them, but we have to be practical here. They have their own whirlwind still going on and they’ll have the wee one soon enough. I don’t want to be a burden for them and I don’t want to create anymore worry for them. They’ve had enough. Plus, they’re just married. They don’t need any roommates. I keep trying to come up with other solutions, but I only seem to keep leading back to one.”
“To go home to Britain,” Riley guessed as he noted the flatness in Pat’s tone.
“I can live with my brother or my parents. Both would gladly help. I can get work as a casual Anaesthetist anywhere over there. I can transfer from Princeton University to somewhere in London to keep studying. It all makes sense, even if the last thing I want to do it go away from everyone here.” Pat rubbed his eyes slowly. “I really wanted to be an active godfather for the wee one. I’m not likely to ever have kids of my own. I was cool with being Uncle Pat, but I’ll have to be a long distance one.”
Riley rested his hand on Pat’s covered leg. “Come live with me,” he suggested. “The apartment is big enough, we can get all the disability aides you need installed. And let’s face it, with Tab in New York, there are going to be times I need help too. Evie works weird and wonderful shifts and Tara and Lachlan have their own stuff going on, like you said. To be honest, I don’t really care for being alone much right now. We could help each other. You might be able to help me see my apartment and Princeton as home more rather than just a place I currently have to be.”
“Riley…” Pat murmured and sighed. He gestured down the length of his body. “This is hardly something you need to shoulder yourself right now. You need to focus on getting yourself better and accepting what’s happened.” Riley still looked so ill and drawn. The weight loss was visible, as were the heavy, tired smudges under his eyes. His face lacked any healthy colour and his eyes were just a flat, dull green rather than the shiny aqua shade they usually held.
“You can help me,” Riley pleaded softly. “You’ve been here. You know what I’m feeling. You and Lachlan… I’m using you both as inspiration to somehow drag myself back to some sort of normalcy, but it’s not easy. Fuck, is it not easy. Right now, I don’t even want to get out of bed and the fear of it all is making it harder and harder to function. You can help me see that it’s worth getting up and still living, because right now, I don’t know how to do that. You don’t need to go to London. None of us want to see you leave, not like this.”
Pat took Riley’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Nothing is worth giving up on life, darling. You need to know that, okay? It feels fucked up, I know. It feels like you aren’t ever going to get better, but you will. Slowly, but you will. Don’t let it take you down. There’s too many wonderful things in the world you’ll miss if you do.”
“Don’t go to London,” Riley insisted, watching Pat closely. “You should be here. You belong with all of us here.”
“And so do you, darling. Don’t lose yourself, Riley Browne. Hide and grieve, yes, but make sure we always know where to find you.” Pat gave Riley a soft smile and attempted to brush the mess that was Riley’s hair into place. “Do you have a comb, darling? You’re going to scare little children looking like this. And that cap? Please don’t ever put it near your head again. It’s far too appalling to even contemplate, not to mention that olive green is not your colour.”
Riley managed a small laugh. “See? This is why you need to come be my room mate. Too much risk I’ll get hauled away by the fashion police.”
“Oh, well, when you put it like that, darling. We can’t risk such a terrible demise, can we?” Pat smirked and then sighed. “You won’t let up til I agree, will you? You’re like Lachie without the kilt and haggis fetish.”
Riley shook his head. “No, I won’t. You’ll come?”
“Okay, okay. But I reserve the right to paint my room pink,” Pat added and, despite his words, dropped his head against his pillow with a relieved and grateful smile to his friend.
Lachlan Campbell [drcampbell], Tara Brennan-Campbell [doctortara], Tabitha Browne [asinthecity] & Evie Miller [imnodoctor] referred to with permission
Word Count | 1,147
(Air – ‘Cherry Blossom Girl’)
Co-written with
pullmysteth[Follows THIS]
Riley flopped down in the chair beside Pat’s hospital bed and pulled the baseball cap off his head, sending his curly hair sticking up in all directions. It had most definitely been used as a disguise. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and be stuck talking to a one of his colleagues. If he wasn't so worried about Pat, he wouldn't even be at PPTH in the first place. He looked at Pat with a mixture of tiredness and helplessness. “This is all just a ploy to get me out of the house, isn’t it?” he joked half-heartedly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed.
Pat gave a small, succinct nod. “Oh, of course, darling. Mmhmm, absolutely. The sutures and IV are all pretty fabulous props, aren’t they? Now if only I could get a doctor as sexy as you to give me a sponge bath and my evil genius plotting will be complete.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m liable to accidentally drown you in the basin of water,” Riley said with a faint smirk. He glanced at Pat’s bandaged hand. “Yodalan said you cut yourself on a knife doing the washing up. Hand went numb. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. You burnt yourself on the coffee you dropped last time. Am I going to have to come around and start babysitting you more?”
Pat ran his tongue along his lips, wetting them. He shrugged slightly. “Oh please. Like you’d be an ample babysitter in your condition,” he teased, though there wasn’t any real amusement behind it. “I’m not… really sure what to do, darling,” he admitted softly.
“What do you mean, Pat?” Riley asked, frowning. “Come on, you know this is just the MS talking. You always get down when you land back in hospital. Who can blame you?”
Pat shook his head. “It’s not that. I just have to be practical about this. The MS is so unpredictable right now; there is no real pattern. I don’t think it’s safe for me to keep living on my own. I really thought… hoped… I could pull it off, but it seems not. Lachie and Tara said I can go stay with them, but we have to be practical here. They have their own whirlwind still going on and they’ll have the wee one soon enough. I don’t want to be a burden for them and I don’t want to create anymore worry for them. They’ve had enough. Plus, they’re just married. They don’t need any roommates. I keep trying to come up with other solutions, but I only seem to keep leading back to one.”
“To go home to Britain,” Riley guessed as he noted the flatness in Pat’s tone.
“I can live with my brother or my parents. Both would gladly help. I can get work as a casual Anaesthetist anywhere over there. I can transfer from Princeton University to somewhere in London to keep studying. It all makes sense, even if the last thing I want to do it go away from everyone here.” Pat rubbed his eyes slowly. “I really wanted to be an active godfather for the wee one. I’m not likely to ever have kids of my own. I was cool with being Uncle Pat, but I’ll have to be a long distance one.”
Riley rested his hand on Pat’s covered leg. “Come live with me,” he suggested. “The apartment is big enough, we can get all the disability aides you need installed. And let’s face it, with Tab in New York, there are going to be times I need help too. Evie works weird and wonderful shifts and Tara and Lachlan have their own stuff going on, like you said. To be honest, I don’t really care for being alone much right now. We could help each other. You might be able to help me see my apartment and Princeton as home more rather than just a place I currently have to be.”
“Riley…” Pat murmured and sighed. He gestured down the length of his body. “This is hardly something you need to shoulder yourself right now. You need to focus on getting yourself better and accepting what’s happened.” Riley still looked so ill and drawn. The weight loss was visible, as were the heavy, tired smudges under his eyes. His face lacked any healthy colour and his eyes were just a flat, dull green rather than the shiny aqua shade they usually held.
“You can help me,” Riley pleaded softly. “You’ve been here. You know what I’m feeling. You and Lachlan… I’m using you both as inspiration to somehow drag myself back to some sort of normalcy, but it’s not easy. Fuck, is it not easy. Right now, I don’t even want to get out of bed and the fear of it all is making it harder and harder to function. You can help me see that it’s worth getting up and still living, because right now, I don’t know how to do that. You don’t need to go to London. None of us want to see you leave, not like this.”
Pat took Riley’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Nothing is worth giving up on life, darling. You need to know that, okay? It feels fucked up, I know. It feels like you aren’t ever going to get better, but you will. Slowly, but you will. Don’t let it take you down. There’s too many wonderful things in the world you’ll miss if you do.”
“Don’t go to London,” Riley insisted, watching Pat closely. “You should be here. You belong with all of us here.”
“And so do you, darling. Don’t lose yourself, Riley Browne. Hide and grieve, yes, but make sure we always know where to find you.” Pat gave Riley a soft smile and attempted to brush the mess that was Riley’s hair into place. “Do you have a comb, darling? You’re going to scare little children looking like this. And that cap? Please don’t ever put it near your head again. It’s far too appalling to even contemplate, not to mention that olive green is not your colour.”
Riley managed a small laugh. “See? This is why you need to come be my room mate. Too much risk I’ll get hauled away by the fashion police.”
“Oh, well, when you put it like that, darling. We can’t risk such a terrible demise, can we?” Pat smirked and then sighed. “You won’t let up til I agree, will you? You’re like Lachie without the kilt and haggis fetish.”
Riley shook his head. “No, I won’t. You’ll come?”
“Okay, okay. But I reserve the right to paint my room pink,” Pat added and, despite his words, dropped his head against his pillow with a relieved and grateful smile to his friend.
Lachlan Campbell [
drcampbell], Tara Brennan-Campbell [doctortara], Tabitha Browne [asinthecity] & Evie Miller [imnodoctor] referred to with permissionWord Count | 1,147
