Work Text:
He wakes up yelling.
The room is, for once, too dark for his liking and he scrambles to flick the lights on. Letting the light fill the room as he struggles to catch his breathe. Now that he’s awake, he doesn’t exactly remember what he was dreaming about but it was traumatic enough to pull him from his sleep. Brad slumps to the ground, leaning against the wall as he stares at his bed like it’s the worst thing ever.
It takes a few more minutes to find the strength to push himself up from the floor and stumble his way to his phone, gripping the nightstand for some balance. He unplugs his phone quickly and looks at the time. It’s barely five am and he knows it’s a bad idea but he can’t help himself. To be fair, he can say that he hesitated for ten minutes before actually going through with his
plan.
Patrice’s sleepy voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Suddenly, it’s almost like some cruel person decided to remove his tongue to prevent him from speaking because he completely stops in his tracks. Like a deer in headlights, as his father would say. There’s a long pause before Brad lets out an empty laugh, quickly apologizing for the early call.
Patrice doesn’t mind.
The time seems to blur together after he hangs up and soon he’s in the passenger seat of Patrice’s truck, listening to whatever god awful playlist that he has thrown together for their impromptu getaway trip. It wasn’t Brad’s idea surprisingly but it was Patrice’s idea after listening to Brad rant about whatever he dreamt of, or as much as he could remember. Their trip was something they both needed of course, work was rough. Plain and simple.
Brad catches the stuff he had thrown into the backseat of the truck. A pack of beer, bait box, thermos’ and a ton of other goods that would clearly come in handy. He silently says a prayer for his dad showing him some basic survival skills and all those camping trips they took back when Brad was younger. His attention is brought back to Patrice who is going on and on about how the sweet, old patient they had tried to give him a hat.
Eventually Patrice stops ranting about how he wished he would have taken the hat as long as it meant she was happy. Instead, focusing his attention on Brad. Which he bathes in, just the simple looks of concern from Patrice makes him feel alright about himself. It really shows that Patrice does care a lot about his partner and to Brad? That means everything after being bounced around, never really have someone that he could be a little bit reliable on.
Half an hour later and Brad’s finally able to stretch his legs, giving Patrice a break from hearing him whine about how he’s so sore. Even though the drive was only two hours away.
“This is where my dad took me all the time when I was younger. I figured, why not bring you here.” Patrice says, an angelic smile crossing his face as he starts to unload the stuff from the back of the truck. Passing things to Brad who has declared himself as officially setting up their campsites, which he claims that he’s doing it because Patrice literally showed up at his door. Giving him ten minutes to grab whatever he needed because they were going camping.
“Well, you’ll have to cross off being spontaneous from your bucket list because congratulations. You’ve managed to do that successfully.” His comment gets a beer tossed at him followed by an immediate apology from Patrice. As he quote on quote didn’t mean to throw it that hard. Brad finds that hard to believe as he wasn’t actually given a heads up that something was going to come flying his way. The two laugh it off like it was nothing, getting back to work by setting up the tents and everything else.
The campsite doesn’t actually seem that bad now that Brad, the self proclaimed decorater of making campsites cool, put the final touches to their cosy home. For the next two days of course. “Alright, time to kick back. Open a beer and roast some marshmallows. Or is that.. that too childish.” Brad questions, getting a laugh from Patrice who tosses him the bag of marshmallows that Brad had thrown at him earlier that day. Retrieving the roasting rods from their spot and handing one to Brad. Declining his offer in joining him. Claiming that they were too sweet but Brad thinks it’s bullshit.
It’s a comfortable silence, one that is easy to fall into between the both of them. Patrice studies Brad as he leans forward in his chair, wrapped up in a plaid blanket that comically swamps his body. There’s a smile on his face but it’s easy to pick up that there is still some unease lingering around Brad’s mind despite the two of them having a great time. He clears his throat and tilts his head once Brad looks at him. “Brad.. this morning when you called me..” He notes the sudden hunched over protective stance that Brad takes, wanting to shield himself for whatever curveball that he was about to throw.
“Was it because of that call..?” It’s hesitant, he doesn’t really want to go through with the question as he knows the answer. Knows the reason why Brad begs him to stay the night, why he refuses to sleep some days, or when he calls Patrice. Crying and stumbling over his words before he quickly apologizes for bothering him and hanging up. Of course, the look that Brad has says everything. His glassy eyes, the small twitch of his nose and the slight sucking in the lip look. It’s all he needs to confirm what he had already thought.
He sets his can down next to his chair, getting up and making his way to Brad to kneel in front of him. The rod was long forgotten at this point, falling onto the ground with a barely audible thump. He watches as Brad’s body twitches at the sound as if he wants to look at it instead of staring Patrice in the eye. A tear rolls down his face and Patrice uses his thumb to wipe it away, gently placing his hands onto the sides of Brad’s face. Watching him with careful eyes, knowing that anything might set him off.
“I.. I see her. I hear her crying.. Sometimes I remember and sometimes I don’t..” Brad starts off, his voice already quivering as be sucks in a deep breathe. Trying to compose himself as best as he can to at least give Patrice an explanation. “I feel so bad.. I could have done more but I didn’t.. I- I could have done more, Pat.” And despite his best efforts to keep himself calm. Brad curls in on himself and squeezes his eyes shut. The tears start coming down his face fast, sobs wracking his body as he tries to hide himself. Feeling ashamed for letting himself get like this.
It hurts Patrice to say the least and he hates seeing Brad like this. If it was him, he knows what would make him feel better, which is why he pulls Brad out of his chair and onto the ground with him. Wrapping his arms around Brad in an awkward manner, trying to get him as close as possible while simultaneously comforting him. He runs his hands through his hair gently, speaking softly to Brad in French. It’s not much but with the way that the tears are starting to slow, it seems to be enough for now.
It feels like an eternity to Patrice, to be sitting there with Brad in his arms on the ground. However, if ever placed in the situation again. He would absolutely do it again after seeing how destroyed his partner was. Besides, nobody is around to see them and that’s one of the comforting parts of being here. They have the privacy they desire, to cry or whatever. Without the fear of being judged for simply doing what makes them feel better.
“Let’s go to bed.. yeah?” Patrice asks, getting a tired nod from Brad who unlatches himself from Patrice. He watches as the shorter man trudges his way to his own tent, sniffles and hiccups still coming out of him. There’s a pang of guilt that he feels in his heart, from knowing that Brad is hurting that much that a simple question can make everything tumble down. Patrice stands there for a moment, shaking out the blanket and making sure the fire was out before making his way to his own tent.
From his own tent, he can still hear Brad sniffling. After a minute of listening in. Patrice gets up and makes his way to Brad’s tent with the blanket. Opening it up with a small smile, trying to make the situation as comfortable as possible. “Have room for one more?” Patrice jokes, hoping that in some way his cheesy joke will make it better. Which it does because despite Brad’s flushed face and bloodshot eyes. He scoots over enough to make sure Patrice has enough room to lay down.
It’s not exactly warm or cool but he does spread the blanket between the both of them. Letting the sounds of nature fill his mind instead of overthinking that situation, the same one Brad has been dreaming about. Until he’s brought out of his thoughts by Brad clearing his throat to get his attention. “Pat.. I just want to say.. thanks.” He says out of the blue, drawing a confused look from Patrice as he turns onto his side to look at him. Raising an eyebrow in slight confusion which Brad catches on immediately. “For taking me out here, comforting me.. staying here with me. You do the absolute most for me and I just want to say.. when I’m with you.. I feel significantly better. Thanks...”
Patrice is a little taken back before he gives a small smile. “I care about you, Brad. I’d do anything for you even if that means planning a spontaneous camping trip just to make you feel better.”
Their laughter fills the air with happiness before the sounds of nature lull them both to sleep, both of them holding onto each other.