Work Text:
The further away they got from Schitt’s Creek, the more anxious Patrick got. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel nervously as he glanced over at David, who was asleep in the passenger seat. Patrick wanted to wake him if only to have a little comfort, but he knew that a tired and cranky David Rose wasn’t going to be much comfort to anyone.
So his thoughts wandered.
It had been almost three years since he’d been back home and he missed it desperately, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dreading returning. When he’d left (he refused to think of it as running away) he had wanted nothing more than to shed his old life off of him and leave it behind. And he had.
So now there were two men inside of him — Patrick, who owned a store with his husband who he loved more than he loved breathing and Pat, a high school baseball star who was going to marry the pretty redhead who looked at him like he was the answer to everything but made him feel nothing.
The old and the new, the before and the after, the miserable and the happy.
And now they were going to meet and Patrick didn’t know how they were going to fit together.
He drove for another half hour, the only sound in the car the talk radio show he would have never been listening to if David was awake, before he pulled over at a rest stop for a break.
“David,” he said, gently shaking his shoulder. “David, wake up.”
David cracked open one eye. “Ugh, what? Are we there?”
“Unfortunately, no. We’ve got about another three hours.” He smiled when David groaned and said something about how roadtrips should be considered a legitimate form of torture. “Yeah, but you’re not the one driving,” Patrick reminded him dryly.
One side of David’s mouth quirked up, the smile he reserved only for Patrick. “And thank god for small miracles.”
Once they were back on the road, David was more awake and the radio had been switched to David’s carefully curated road trip playlist. As a Christina song played, Patrick stared straight ahead, pointedly ignoring the fact that David was watching him.
“Okay. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to play twenty questions?” Patrick said nothing. He wasn’t worried that David would get upset, he just didn’t know how to start the conversation. “Patrick, seriously. You know you can tell me anything. I told you about the time I had an ex leave me for their own cousin and there’s no way anything you can say will be worse than that.”
David, of course, was right. So Patrick took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts before saying, “I just. I haven’t been home since I, you know, left.”
“Mhmm,” David said, an invitation to continue.
“And I don’t know. I guess it’s like there’s two Patricks? And I’m worried that they won’t get along.”
“Well, I know for a fact that old David would hate new David, but so fucking what? Everyone has a past and they might not be all fucking rainbows, but if we weren’t those people, we wouldn’t be here.” He reached over and pried Patrick’s right hand off the steering wheel, the cool metal of his rings a balm on Patrick’s frayed nerves. “And here is the only place I will ever want to be. Well, okay maybe not, like, here in your death trap car. But you know what I mean.”
Patrick smiled. “Yeah.” Then, “For someone who claims not to understand human emotions, you seem to always know what to say.”
“And for that I blame you.”
“Mmm, well kind of hard to feel bad about that.”
“You’re a menace.”
“But I’m your menace.”
David gagged. “That is the grossest thing you have ever said.”
Patrick laughed and gripped David’s hand like it was a lifeline. Pat might not like Patrick, but Patrick had gotten David Rose to fall in love with him, so screw what Pat thought.
#
The rest of the drive, Patrick’s nerves stayed at bay, largely in part because David forced himself to stay awake, talking about random things that kept Patrick’s mind occupied. But when they pulled into the driveway of the house he’d grown up in, which looked the same as it always had, his fears reared their ugly heads again.
“Hey, look at me.” Patrick complied. “It’s going to be okay. And, if it’s not, I’ll be right here the whole time. You’re kind of stuck with me.”
“I love you,” was Patrick’s earnest reply.
“I am pretty great,” David replied with a smirk. Then, “I love you, too.” And when David kissed him, Patrick felt like he could conquer anything. “Now let’s go. I’m hungry.”
“When aren’t you?” David huffed indignantly as they got out of the car, but didn’t argue.
Patrick let them into the house with the key he’d never been able to get rid of and called out to his parents, who appeared out of the kitchen. His mom rushed up to him and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. “Oh, it’s so good to have you home,” she said and Patrick could hear the tears in her voice. He suddenly hated himself for not having come home sooner. “And, David, it’s so great to have you here finally.”
“Thank you, Marcy,” he said, accepting her quick hug. “You have a lovely home.”
Looking around, Patrick knew David was lying through his teeth. Everything in the house, while well maintained, was at least as old as Patrick. Most were hand me downs or had been wedding presents. He was also pretty sure the ancient recliner that his dad favored was the one his grandfather had died in. It was comforting to Patrick but it definitely wasn’t up to David’s design standards.
His mom smiled and said, “Are you boys hungry?” At the same time that Patrick said “no,” David said “yes” and his mom laughed. “Well, then, why doesn’t David come with me and Patrick can put the bags upstairs?”
“I’ll help you, son,” his dad offered in a tone that implied there was no room for refusal. He followed Patrick out to the car and, once the front door was closed, said, “Is everything all right?”
Patrick sighed. He hated how well his parents knew him sometimes. “A lot has changed since I’ve been back here.”
His dad chuckled. “I’ll say. Does that bother you?”
“Yes and no. I love my life but I’m just worried that I don’t fit here anymore.” It hurt to say — the thought that he didn’t belong in the place he had called home his entire life stung.
“I doubt that’s true, but no matter what you’ll always have your family. None of us are going anywhere.” His dad clapped him on the shoulder and Patrick felt himself relax, whispering his thanks. “Now let’s get these bags,” he said, opening the trunk. As he started to pull out the bags (there were four total, only one of which was Patrick’s), he laughed. “You boys know you’re only here a week, right?”
“You try telling David that.”
They managed to lug all the bags up to Patrick’s old bedroom and when his dad left, Patrick flopped on the bed, exhausted from the drive. He glanced around the room, the baseball trophies lining one wall, academic awards lining the other, his first guitar tucked neatly in the corner. All remnants of the boy he’d been not only before David, but before adulthood.
His gaze landed on the bulletin board, which was still littered with announcements and flyers from grade 12. There were a few notes from friends, passed between classes in the age before cellphone dominance. But that wasn’t what had caught his eye.
Tacked up in the middle of the board was a collection of pictures. Ignoring his aching muscles, Patrick pushed himself off the bed and crossed the room to examine them. His baseball team right after they had won the championship, graduation, one of him on stage during an open mic. In all of them, Patrick looked younger and carefree, with longer curlier hair.
Smack in the middle of the pictures was one from the summer before he had gone off the university. It was their last big party (Joey’s maybe?) and they had wanted one more group picture before they went their separate ways.
Everyone was sweaty and tanned (yes, even Patrick, so take that, David) and they were laughing at some long forgotten joke. In the center of the group as they always were was Patrick and Rachel. He was smiling at the camera, his arm slung over her shoulders. Even with Rachel wrapped around his waist looking, not at the camera, but up at Patrick like he was the only thing in the world, he remembered the feeling of knowing he was going to break up with her before the summer was over.
The first of way too many.
“What’re you looking at?”
Patrick turned around to see David leaned up against the door jamb. Patrick would never have imagined seeing someone like David in this house, but that was the thing about David, wasn’t it? He crept up on you when you least expected it, cementing himself in your life.
“Just some old pictures.”
David pushed himself off the door, a wicked look on his face. “Baby Patrick? Out of the way, this is something I have got to see.” He all but shoved Patrick out of the way to get a closer look. His eyes lingered on the same picture that Patrick’s had, but he didn’t voice the comment Patrick could see written all over his face. Despite his smile, Patrick didn’t look happy, not the way he did when he was with David. “I didn’t know you have curly hair,” he said instead.
“Mm, yeah.”
They lapsed into silence that was uncharacteristically uncomfortable, the weight of Patrick’s former life pressing in on them. “Well, I for one, am exhausted,” David finally said, breaking the silence.
“I can’t imagine how,” Patrick teased, letting himself be tugged to the bed. “You slept all morning.”
“Mmm.” David pressed a kiss to Patrick’s lips before settling himself in his favorite spot over Patrick’s heart. “Shut up.”
“Never,” was the last thing Patrick said before exhaustion overtook him.
#
The next morning after a large breakfast that Patrick’s mother typically reserved for special occasions, they were all but forced out of the house under the orders that Patrick show David around town.
They took his mother’s SUV because his dad had insisted on “taking a look” at Patrick’s car, saying that he wasn’t going to let them drive the six hours back to Schitt’s Creek with it in the condition it was in. Patrick was sure that they would be leaving in a different car all together.
They drove around aimlessly, Patrick pointing out various landmarks. The complex that held all of the town’s schools (“one of these days you’ll really have to explain what public school is like”), the baseball fields (“if I never step foot on one of those again, it’ll be too soon”), the skatepark where he had busted his knee, nearly rendering him unable to play ball, the one time his friends had convinced him to go (“I would extend my sympathies, but I have none”). There were a million memories in this town, and they all came rushing back the more they drove around.
Eventually, Patrick had to feed the bottomless pit he called his husband, so he pulled into the parking lot of the town’s most popular diner. He assured David that it was at least as edible as Cafe Tropical, to which David responded, “Yeah, so is a piece of cardboard,” though there was no malice in his voice.
Walking inside, Patrick was enthusiastically greeted by Norma, a waitress who had worked in the diner since practically the beginning of time and who had watched Patrick grow up. “I was starting to think that we’d never see you around these parts again, Paddy.” Behind him, David snorted at the nickname and Patrick blindly swatted at him. “And who is your handsome friend?”
“Oh.” He pulled David up next to him, ignoring the way he was preening at Norma’s compliment. “This is actually my husband, David Rose.” If the news was a shock to Norma, she didn’t react. “David, this is Norma. I’m pretty sure she saw me more than my parents did in high school.”
“Well, come on, you two. I’ll take you to Paddy’s favorite booth.” She grabbed two menus that had probably also been there since the beginning of time and led them to the section of the diner Patrick had called home for years.
When Norma was out of earshot, David said, “So, Paddy, huh?”
“I hate you.”
“Are you sure about that, Paddy?”
“Keep it up and I won’t pay for your food.” David busied himself with the menu after that but Patrick knew he hadn’t heard the end of this conversation.
After they ordered, David excused himself to the bathroom and Patrick pulled out his phone to text Stevie, who was keeping an eye on the store and Madison, the high school girl they’d hired at Jocelyn’s recommendation. As he was typing out a warning that she had to pay for any wine she drank, he heard, “Holy fucking shit. Am I hallucinating or is that fucking Pat Brewer?”
Patrick looked up to see two of his best friends growing up, Nate Ashford and Joey Whitlock, standing there staring at him like he was a ghost. Patrick smiled and said, “Hey.”
Nate and Joey slid into the booth across from Patrick and Joey said, “Hey? Really? You disappear off the face of the earth for years and all you have to say is hey?” When Patrick didn’t know what to say, Joey laughed. “I’m just fucking with you, man. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.” The statement was sincere. Patrick had truly missed these guys. There was a certain comfort in being around people who had known you your whole life.
“What the hell have you been up to? Whenever we see your mom, she won’t tell us shit. You’re not, like, a spy or something, are you?” Nate laughed at his own joke and Patrick chuckled.
“No, nothing like that. I actually co-own a store a few hours from here.”
“No shit? What kinda store?”
Patrick smiled, thinking back to the first time he’d met David and he’d tried to explain the Apothecary to him. “It’s like a…really specific general store.”
Nate and Joey looked confused, but just as Joey looked like he was about to ask more questions, Nate interjected with, “Wait just a goddamn minute. Is this a wedding ring ? Is Mr. I-Broke-My-Engagement-to-the-Perfect-Woman married?”
Patrick spun his ring around his finger. “Yeah, I am.”
“Hang on.” Joey looked at him like he was accusing him of a crime. “Was that why you left? Was there another girl?”
“What? No, of course not!” Which wasn’t a lie. “I just—”
He never got to say what he “just” because David chose that moment to come back, complaining loudly about the state of the bathroom. “What’s going on here? Move, move, move.” He pushed Patrick further into the booth and squished in next to him.
“David, these are my friends, Nate Ashford and Joey Whitlock.” He gestured to each of them in turn. “Guys, this is David Rose. My husband.”
Nate smiled. “Well, fuck, good for you, man.”
“Yeah, a lot of things make a lot more sense now.”
David laughed and Patrick punched his leg under the table. In return, David kissed him on the cheek. Sometimes Patrick really couldn’t stand him.
(Okay, that was an obvious lie, but it was the principle.)
“So, tell me, David. Does our dear, sweet Pat still have a stick up his ass?”
Patrick shot David a look that said “behave” and David just smiled at him. “Mostly, but he’s learning to relax.” Speaking of relaxing, Patrick let himself sink into David’s side, resting his head against his shoulder. “Still neurotic as fuck, though.” When all three of them laughed at him, Patrick knew how David felt when he and Stevie ganged up on him.
Not that he’d stop doing that, but still.
Nate and Joey sat with them, catching up on everything Patrick had missed (Nate was engaged and Joey’s wife had just given birth to twins) and asking questions about Schitt’s Creek (“yes, that’s the real name”) until Patrick and David’s food arrived.
His friends excused themselves, but before they left, Nate said, “I’m really happy for you, Pat. But if you disappear on us again, I will personally hunt you down. Got it?”
“Got it.”
They left with final fist bumps and David looked over at him. “I like them.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’m not calling you Pat now. Just, like, so you know.”
Patrick leaned in and kissed David’s temple. “I wouldn’t want you to.” He’d been Pat his whole life to everyone except his parents and Rachel, so when he’d…run away, he’d started going by Patrick even though he was never really fond of it, just to have another degree of separation.
He’d never really liked his full name until he heard David say it.
Pat and Patrick. Two different people that he was starting to see might be able to coexist.
#
They spent the rest of the week just wandering around town. Nate and Joey must have gotten the word out because they started running into all of Patrick’s old friends and classmates, even ones that he knew for a fact had moved away. The more people met (and liked) David, the better Patrick was feeling about meshing his past and present selves.
The only blip in the visit was when they were walking around downtown and happened to pass by an abandoned storefront. Patrick had barely registered it, but David had stopped. It was only then that Patrick realized that that storefront had once been Rose Video. He came up next to David and put a comforting hand on his back.
“It’s okay to not be okay.”
“I know, but I’m fine. No, really,” he added when he saw Patrick’s skeptical reflection in the window. “If this didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have you. It’s just weird to see.”
As they moved on, Patrick thought about how odd it was that they both had history in this town.
#
The last night before Patrick and David were set to leave, they were at the grocery store picking up ingredients for his mom to make dinner. They’d told her that they didn’t need anything fancy but she’d insisted she do this for “her boys” so they’d insisted the least they could do was buy what she needed.
“David, can you — David?” Patrick groaned when he realized that his husband had wandered off, most likely to get snacks for the trip home the next day. As he set off looking for him, Patrick quite literally ran into somebody. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”
“Paddy?”
Damn it. The one person he’d been hoping to avoid. For all that Patrick was getting comfortable joining his past and present, he still couldn’t quite reconcile the man who thought he would marry Rachel with the man who did marry David.
“Hi, Mrs. Walker.”
“I didn’t know you’d moved back home.”
“Oh, um.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, not looking directly at Rachel’s mother who looked too much like Rachel for him to be comfortable. “I didn’t. I’m just visiting.”
“Well, it’s still good to see you. This town isn’t quite the same without you here.”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely missed it.” Then, “Look, Mrs. Walker, I—”
“Patrick Brewer, don’t you dare apologize to me. Look at me.” He did. She was looking at him kindly, which was honestly more than he deserved from her. “Your mom has told me all about your new life and your business. And that you’ve gotten married?” He nodded. “That’s really great. You’ve always been like a son to me, Paddy, and the only thing I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Even if it’s not with Rachel.”
“How is Rachel?” Patrick had kept casual contact with Rachel since the barbecue, but they were nowhere near as close as they’d once been. They probably never would be again.
“She’s got a new job out in Toronto and, last I’d heard from her, she was seeing somebody. She’s okay, Paddy.” She reached out and squeezed his arm just like she’d used to when he was younger.
A familiar weight pressed itself against Patrick’s back, David’s chin resting on his shoulder. “Okay, we can go now.”
“We literally haven’t even gotten the stuff my mom needs for dinner yet. Not everything is about you, you know.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
“No.”
“Mmkay.” Then, “Who’s this?”
“Right. Um, David, this is Cherie Walker. She’s um. Rachel’s mom. Mrs. Walker, this is my husband, David Rose.”
Mrs. Walker did not react to the news that the man she thought would be her son-in-law now had a husband. Instead, she smiled in that way that only moms know how to. “Nice to meet you, David.”
“You, too.”
There was a beat of silence, then Mrs. Walker said, “Well, it was really great to see you again but I really should get going. Give my best to Clint and Marcy.”
“I will. Tell Rachel I say hi.”
Mrs. Walker nodded. “Of course. Don’t be a stranger, Paddy.” And with another squeeze to his arm, she was gone.
Patrick held up a finger to stop David because, even though he couldn’t see his face, he knew he had some smart ass retort already geared up. “Not. A. Word.”
A kiss to his neck, then, “Whatever you say, Paddy.”
#
The next night Patrick was laying in his bed in his house in his town next to his husband. He was exhausted to his very core, but also a little drunk on wine that Stevie definitely didn’t pay for. Next to him, David was already snoring lightly, but Patrick couldn’t sleep.
He couldn’t help but turn the events of the last week over and over in his mind.
Norma.
Nate and Joey.
All of his old classmates.
The abandoned Rose Video.
Ms. Finnegan.
All parts of the life he used to have. He didn’t think that those parts of himself had any significance to the life he now led, but the last week had taught him that that wasn’t true.
Norma.
Nate and Joey.
All of his old classmates.
The abandoned Rose Video.
Ms. Finnegan.
All parts of the life of Pat Brewer — baseball star, ex-fiancé, the man who ran away. But they had all had a part in shaping who he’d become:
Patrick Brewer — business owner, husband, the man who found somewhere to stay.
And that was nothing to be ashamed of.