Into The Dark
Title: Into The Dark
Author: NaughtyLaundry
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: You wish it was true.
Summary: Patrick wasn't ready to let him go.
A/N: So, this little fic pretty much came out of nowhere. I was sitting around after I hade finished my homework and I was listening to "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie, and this sort of spawned. I was totally crying as I wrote this and it was hella weird for me. So, I guess for maximum emo quality you should listen to "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" as you read this.
It was getting closer with every passing second. The quiet mechanical beeps seemed to grow louder with the anticipation of the end. Patrick removed his bifocals and dabbed away the tears forming in the crinkled corners of his eyes. He'd promised him he wouldn't cry. It was an easy promise to make, but now it seemed impossible to keep.
Patrick placed a wizened hand atop of Pete's and breathed in deeply. Patrick wasn't sure what was making him more upset, knowing what was coming or sitting there having to watch Pete lay there like that. Three weeks ago he hadn't thought that they would be here waiting for Pete's life to end, but the resident doctor at the home had told them that Pete's heart was failing quite rapidly and that his time was being cut short. Pete seemed to know it was coming, even as Patrick was devastated.
Patrick wasn't ready to let him go. It was his Pete; his Pete didn't die. Pete was only seventy-eight years old and suddenly the fifty years they'd spent together in love didn't seem like enough. Patrick knew it was selfish but he wanted his Pete forever.
"But Tricky, you'll always have me," Pete had told him the last time they had an intelligible conversation, "It's just my body that's going, I'll always be in there." He pointed a withered finger at Patrick's heart. "And in there." Pete had pressed his fingertips to Patrick's brow and smiled. It had reminded Patrick of the first time he'd seen that smile, when they were young and foolish. He'd give anything for Pete to smile like that, just one more time before... before it was all over.
Patrick swallowed the tears that were threatening to erupt and he looked down at his wedding band. He sighed and let all of the beautiful memories rush to the surface of his mind. Patrick even smiled when he recalled what it felt like to sign that marriage license, Pete standing at his side grinning like a fiend. He ran his finger over the matching band on Pete's finger and sighed deeply.
Pete had been completely against the idea of moving into the nursing home at first, but he finally caved when he came to grips that he and Patrick could no longer keep up with the house and other necessary things. The place was nice enough; it had pretty gardens and nice living quarters. Even in his old age Pete was still a trouble-maker and Patrick was still there to reign in his mischievous man.
Sunlight fell delicately through the curtained window and illuminating Pete's creased face. The beeping of the monitor picked up drastically and Patrick closed his eyes for a moment, listening as he heard the quick shuffling of sneakers in the hallway.
This was it.
Patrick opened his eyes and began to stroke Pete's face, trying to memorize every inch of it before it was gone. Several nurses and the doctor had filed into the room and began checking the various charts and machines. Patrick didn't think it was relevant; his Peter was dying and he didn't need a damn chart to tell him that. They were whispering softly to each other but Patrick tuned them out. He scooted himself as close to the bed as he could manage, his face just inches above Pete's.
The machine beeped violently now and Patrick gulped. He could feel his heart tearing in two. His better half was almost gone. Pete's breath was coming in short gasps but his face was showing no signs of pain. Patrick kissed his lips softly and pressed his cheek to Pete's, listening as the machine flat lined.
Peter was gone.
Patrick laid his head on to Pete's chest and let the tears he'd been holding back fall down his cheeks. None of the nurses or the doctor made a move to remove him; instead they left the room quietly to let Patrick have his final moments with Pete.
"I love you." Patrick's voice was raspy and pained. He placed a kiss on Pete's chest, and then one on his forehead. He looked at Pete for a long time, silently holding his hand in both of them, letting it wash over him that his love of more that fifty years was really gone.
"Mr. Patrick, we need to get you back to your room."
A nurse had entered the room and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, "It's very late, Mr. Patrick." Patrick looked away from Pete and over to the window. She was right; the sun was no longer shining. Patrick kissed Pete on the lips one last time and allowed the woman to help him up and guide him to his and Pete's living quarters.
The woman helped Patrick get dressed and ready for bed and smiled when Patrick asked her to hand him one of the pictures off of the mantle. He thanked her when she had handed him the picture and she left, turning out all of the light except for the small reading lamp on the nightstand.
Patrick ran his fingers along the edges of the picture frame and smiled. In the picture sat a very young Patrick and Peter, large smiles plastered on both of their faces. Patrick lay back against his pillow and clutched the picture to his chest.
"I'll see you soon." he murmured.
The next morning, when the day-nurse came to wake Patrick and help him get ready, she found Patrick in bed with the picture still clutched to his chest. He did not stir when she tried to wake him. The nurse checked his pulse but found nothing. She pressed the emergency button beside the bed but smiled and removed the picture from Patrick's lifeless arms. She knew that it would end this way; in her years of caring for Patrick and Pete she'd learned quickly that you couldn't have one without the other.
In life, or death.
Author: NaughtyLaundry
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: You wish it was true.
Summary: Patrick wasn't ready to let him go.
A/N: So, this little fic pretty much came out of nowhere. I was sitting around after I hade finished my homework and I was listening to "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie, and this sort of spawned. I was totally crying as I wrote this and it was hella weird for me. So, I guess for maximum emo quality you should listen to "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" as you read this.
It was getting closer with every passing second. The quiet mechanical beeps seemed to grow louder with the anticipation of the end. Patrick removed his bifocals and dabbed away the tears forming in the crinkled corners of his eyes. He'd promised him he wouldn't cry. It was an easy promise to make, but now it seemed impossible to keep.
Patrick placed a wizened hand atop of Pete's and breathed in deeply. Patrick wasn't sure what was making him more upset, knowing what was coming or sitting there having to watch Pete lay there like that. Three weeks ago he hadn't thought that they would be here waiting for Pete's life to end, but the resident doctor at the home had told them that Pete's heart was failing quite rapidly and that his time was being cut short. Pete seemed to know it was coming, even as Patrick was devastated.
Patrick wasn't ready to let him go. It was his Pete; his Pete didn't die. Pete was only seventy-eight years old and suddenly the fifty years they'd spent together in love didn't seem like enough. Patrick knew it was selfish but he wanted his Pete forever.
"But Tricky, you'll always have me," Pete had told him the last time they had an intelligible conversation, "It's just my body that's going, I'll always be in there." He pointed a withered finger at Patrick's heart. "And in there." Pete had pressed his fingertips to Patrick's brow and smiled. It had reminded Patrick of the first time he'd seen that smile, when they were young and foolish. He'd give anything for Pete to smile like that, just one more time before... before it was all over.
Patrick swallowed the tears that were threatening to erupt and he looked down at his wedding band. He sighed and let all of the beautiful memories rush to the surface of his mind. Patrick even smiled when he recalled what it felt like to sign that marriage license, Pete standing at his side grinning like a fiend. He ran his finger over the matching band on Pete's finger and sighed deeply.
Pete had been completely against the idea of moving into the nursing home at first, but he finally caved when he came to grips that he and Patrick could no longer keep up with the house and other necessary things. The place was nice enough; it had pretty gardens and nice living quarters. Even in his old age Pete was still a trouble-maker and Patrick was still there to reign in his mischievous man.
Sunlight fell delicately through the curtained window and illuminating Pete's creased face. The beeping of the monitor picked up drastically and Patrick closed his eyes for a moment, listening as he heard the quick shuffling of sneakers in the hallway.
This was it.
Patrick opened his eyes and began to stroke Pete's face, trying to memorize every inch of it before it was gone. Several nurses and the doctor had filed into the room and began checking the various charts and machines. Patrick didn't think it was relevant; his Peter was dying and he didn't need a damn chart to tell him that. They were whispering softly to each other but Patrick tuned them out. He scooted himself as close to the bed as he could manage, his face just inches above Pete's.
The machine beeped violently now and Patrick gulped. He could feel his heart tearing in two. His better half was almost gone. Pete's breath was coming in short gasps but his face was showing no signs of pain. Patrick kissed his lips softly and pressed his cheek to Pete's, listening as the machine flat lined.
Peter was gone.
Patrick laid his head on to Pete's chest and let the tears he'd been holding back fall down his cheeks. None of the nurses or the doctor made a move to remove him; instead they left the room quietly to let Patrick have his final moments with Pete.
"I love you." Patrick's voice was raspy and pained. He placed a kiss on Pete's chest, and then one on his forehead. He looked at Pete for a long time, silently holding his hand in both of them, letting it wash over him that his love of more that fifty years was really gone.
"Mr. Patrick, we need to get you back to your room."
A nurse had entered the room and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, "It's very late, Mr. Patrick." Patrick looked away from Pete and over to the window. She was right; the sun was no longer shining. Patrick kissed Pete on the lips one last time and allowed the woman to help him up and guide him to his and Pete's living quarters.
The woman helped Patrick get dressed and ready for bed and smiled when Patrick asked her to hand him one of the pictures off of the mantle. He thanked her when she had handed him the picture and she left, turning out all of the light except for the small reading lamp on the nightstand.
Patrick ran his fingers along the edges of the picture frame and smiled. In the picture sat a very young Patrick and Peter, large smiles plastered on both of their faces. Patrick lay back against his pillow and clutched the picture to his chest.
"I'll see you soon." he murmured.
The next morning, when the day-nurse came to wake Patrick and help him get ready, she found Patrick in bed with the picture still clutched to his chest. He did not stir when she tried to wake him. The nurse checked his pulse but found nothing. She pressed the emergency button beside the bed but smiled and removed the picture from Patrick's lifeless arms. She knew that it would end this way; in her years of caring for Patrick and Pete she'd learned quickly that you couldn't have one without the other.
In life, or death.