Chapter Text
‘David I need to talk to you.’
Those words never usually meant good news. Usually they meant ‘David you’ve made a mess of the inventory’ or ‘why have you rearranged my closet again’. But something caught David’s attention today. He looked up from the desk in their small office, his husband was leaning on the doorframe. He must have been back about five minutes, David had registered the noise of the car approaching but he’d been on a call. Patrick had taken off his coat and shoes, his sleeves were rolled up and he looked as gorgeous as ever. But at the same time, he looked unusually pale, and tired. His eyes looked red as if he’d been crying. David knew something serious was up. He nodded getting up from the desk and kissing him hello, expecting an explanation then as to where this was going.
‘Let’s make some tea.’ Patrick said. He was delaying things he knew. But David dutifully followed him to the kitchen.
Patrick saw David see the worry in his face. He’d actually loitered outside the office door for a full five minutes after coming home. He’d told himself he had to do it straight away because if he delayed even until after dinner it would be too long. Except looking at his husband he couldn’t bear to share what had been eating away at him- quite literally he now realised- for weeks.
It started about a month ago. He’d tried to ignore, or at least explain away the first symptoms. He was paranoid, he told himself. It was his anxiety kicking in. Telling him things were there that weren’t. But also he was scared to admit that this time, it looked like it was real. He convinced himself he was bloated from eating too late. Or too much pizza. Maybe it was a food intolerance. His stomach was giving him trouble because he was making himself stressed over this over nothing. What he couldn’t admit for a while was how genuinely scared he was. And that made him ignore it longer. Until two days when he went to the bathroom and couldn’t ignore what happened. He ended up sitting on the floor trying to ward off a panic attack. It was early and David wasn’t up, so he’d gotten away with it. He tried to dismiss it again. But the same thing happened two days later. Again he’d ended up sitting on the floor trying to calm himself down. He also knew he had to do something.
David didn’t suspect anything when he shifted his appointment with Matt forward a week. He only went once a month now, but quite often changed weeks to fit with appointments in Elmdale. So he didn’t bat an eyelid when Patrick said he was tagging that onto a trip to the bank there. He explained what had been happening to Matt, who sat with him while he made an appointment with his doctor for the next day. Matt talked him through his options with David- telling him now, or waiting until he’d had the initial appointment. And so, faking a follow-up bank errand, Patrick had gone to his 4pm appointment today, leaving David to close up the Store. He’d had to pull over on the way home and sit in his car getting control of himself before he could let himself drive home. His eyes were still sore from crying. He’d had only half an hour before David had bounced home from work bubbling over with plans for a new range, none of which he listened to properly.
He set the mugs in front of them and sat down. David took his, and the cookie Patrick offered him, quietly eating with an expression of mild panic on his face. Patrick felt terrible.
‘It’s ok David you didn’t do anything.’ he tried a joke but it felt forced and flat.
‘What’s wrong?’ David said neutrally. He couldn’t read what was wrong but he knew something was. His husband’s face was paler than usual, he looked tired.
Patrick let out a long breath. There was no way out but through at this point. ‘David I wasn’t at the Bank today.’ he saw David’s eyebrow shoot up ‘I was at the Doctors.’ David’s brows came together.
‘Why didn’t you tell me? You could have just gone. I know you went to therapy yesterday but it’s not like we’re some big corporation counting your sick days- wait you went to therapy yesterday? Is that why you were at the Doctors? Is something wrong did Matt-’ his mind had instantly gone to Patrick’s mental health taking a downturn that he’d missed. That he needed medication, and that he’d failed to pick up the signs of things getting worse. It was approaching Thanksgiving and obviously, that was always a bad time but he hadn’t noticed anything. Except now he thought about it he’d been quieter, more reserved the last few weeks. His mind spiralled until Patrick tried to slow him down.
‘David.’ Patrick said holding a hand up. ‘David!’ he repeated, putting a hand over David’s, then when he stilled rubbing a thumb back and fore trying to steady himself. ‘David just listen to me ok this...isn’t easy.’
David saw the fear on his husband’s face and stopped. ‘Just, tell me.’ he said softly.
‘David about a month, maybe more ago I started having...symptoms of something. I ignored it, I figured it was my imagination. I figured it was, my anxiety kicking in. Seeing things that weren’t there, especially with the time of year.’ the irony of the timing, it being late September, wasn’t lost. He prayed this was leading David there so he wouldn’t have to say it all. ‘But last week some things happened I couldn’t ignore. But I was, well I was scared to go to the Doctor. And so I talked to Matt. And he agreed I should go to the Doctor and so, well that’s where I was today.’
He watched all of it flicker across David’s face. He watched the pieces slowly fall into place. ‘Do you mean…’ he swallowed, it couldn’t be. He tried again, ‘Is it…’ he couldn’t force his husband to say it. ‘Is it what you were always scared of?’ he prayed silently for Patrick to say no, to say he’d misunderstood. Instead he nodded slowly.
‘I’m sorry David.’ he said.
David’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. ‘No.’ he said, not really sure at what. Just in general the sentiment seemed to fit. ‘No.’ he said. Wiping his eyes. He pushed his chair away and wrapped himself around Patrick. Who didn’t move. Didn’t hug him back. David dropped to his knees in front of him. ‘Hey.’ he said softly resting his hands on Patrick’s legs. Patrick reached up to his hair running a hand through it and sniffed, wiping at his eyes.
‘I don’t know what to think.’ Patrick said. ‘I spent years preparing myself and now it’s happening I…’ he shrugged.
David pulled himself back onto his chair and took Patrick’s hand. ‘Talk me through it. What’s happening, when, what do we know. Give me the Brewer logic.’
That got a laugh from Patrick. But seemed to focus him a bit.
‘Ok.’ he agreed ‘So the Doctor agreed, given the symptoms and.’ he swallowed ‘Family history, and genetic tests, that, well it doesn’t look like a good sign. The phrase he used was ‘all signs would indicate’ so um, yeah that’s not great. But obviously, they need to do tests. He took blood today. But I need to go to the hospital for more- just as an outpatient. He’s calling tomorrow with appointments. I um, I’ll need you to come, they’ll have to sedate me and I won’t be able to drive.’ the doctor had reeled off an unpleasant sounding list of tests which thankfully they could do in one day at least.
‘Well, we do love a Patrick high on anaesthetic and painkillers.’ David said squeezing his hand, getting a smile out of him.
‘And if they find anything, they can do you know biopsies and stuff and we’ll know a few days later.’
David nodded, taking it in. ‘So we’ll know in a few weeks at most. And they can make a plan. And you’ve had symptoms for what, six weeks? Two months?’ Patrick nodded ‘So likely you’ve caught it early. So all of this is, well not good news, but ...it’s not as bad as it might be.’
Patrick blinked. David was so calm. So rational. It was such a rare thing it was always effective. ‘Thank you.’ he said softly, leaning over and kissing him.
David nodded. His stomach was somewhere around his knees. His blood felt like ice running through his veins. But he wasn’t about to show any of that. He could do this. He’d been preparing too. He knew it was his job to stay as calm as he could for Patrick. He could fall apart but only after he’d got his husband through. He knew this had been a very real fear. He also knew that yes, logically it could happen. But he’d never let himself believe it. But they were here now, so they’d deal with it.
The next day, at lunchtime David walked out of the Store and around the corner. He found his husband exactly where he knew he’d be, staring at the Rose garden, two cups of tea in hand
‘Sorry. It might be cold.’ he said sheepishly holding it out to David, who looped his arm around Patrick’s shoulders. He leaned into him slightly.
‘Hey, Clint.’ David said cheerily. They’d sort of settled on calling the Rosebush ‘Clint’ over the years and it had grown to a fairly impressive size. Patrick elbowed him. ‘Hey, Mom.’ David said with a grin ‘I’ll text you later.’
Patrick laughed. They’d established the stupid joke that Moira would come and haunt David if he didn’t say hello to her too. It was one of those ridiculous habits that still entertained them.
‘What does your Dad say?’ David asked.
‘Not much he’s a bush.’ Patrick said with a grin. Then his face dropped a bit. ‘I couldn’t quite bring myself to say anything.’
David nodded. ‘Come back when there’s something to say then.’ he said, leaning over and kissing his husband’s cheek ‘And come and help me unload these boxes.’
‘Should have known the real reason was you wanted something.’ Patrick grinned. He paused a second ‘Talk soon Dad.’ David looped his arm back around him and led him back to the Store. Glad for some normality to distract him for a bit.