Unexpected Family Part 1
Disclaimer: anything remotely resembling reality is a mistake.
The crunch of the gravel underneath the car wheels drew Alexandre’s attention away from the television and towards the clock. The jet black sky when he looked out of the front window would have told him it was way past the usual acceptable visiting hours even without looking at the clock. All of which meant if this really was a visitor for him he was going to have to go and open the front door himself rather than having someone about who could open it for him.
He shifted around awkwardly on the sofa so his feet were resting on the floor and then looked for his crutches. This was going to be a production and he still might not get there before they left. Maybe he’d just stay here on the sofa and wait to see what happened. If they left he wouldn’t have to get up and that would be best all around since his painkillers had fallen down the side of the sofa an hour ago and he couldn’t get to them. He was definitely not going to be announcing his stupidity to the world any time soon.
Luck wasn’t on his side this evening as soon enough he heard footsteps and then his doorbell rang. Maybe they would still go away? He eyed his crutches again with reluctance before sinking back into the sofa. He’d be in enough trouble if anyone found out he’d gotten out of bed again tonight, he didn’t need to add the further complication of having to hide the evidence of anyone else being there while he was at it.
Whoever was at his door knocked on it trying to get his attention and he felt a little bad for ignoring them. He pushed aside the twinge of conscience easily enough when confronted with the choice of his activities being discovered and his space being invaded further. It was hard enough as it is managing the simple things let alone all the questions he got about his cycling career and what his future plans were. When he was alone was the only time he got when things were just quiet, without demands on him, and it had been difficult enough to get just a few hours by himself.
The screen on his mobile phone lit up the mostly dark room and he looked down at it. Seeing the image displayed there being the one he used for only one man he made the effort to reach for it and pressed the button to answer the call. “Philippe?”
“You going to let me in or what?” came the cut response.
Alexandre sat up hastily at the tone and then hissed at the sharp pain that action prompted. He settled himself back on the sofa carefully and made a note never to do that again, or at least not until he’d recovered. “You’re here? What’s-”
“Just open the door, Vino,” Philippe interrupted.
“Third plant pot on the left,” he said. “Let yourself in.”
He hoped that was instruction enough but didn’t relax until he heard the key sliding in the lock and the front door opening. He wondered what it was that had made his friend come all this without as much as a call beforehand to notify him. It was out of character and combined with the tone was enough to tell him that something was very wrong.
He heard a bag land on the floor in the hallway which made him think this wasn’t just a quick trip. There was a brief pause before he heard footsteps coming towards him. The door was pushed open further and then all of a sudden Philippe appeared in the room. He looked ruffled and as though a great weight was sitting on his shoulders.
He couldn’t remember ever seeing Philippe so upset before and he cursed his inability to get up from where he was sitting with any degree of speed or grace. Something was terribly wrong and suddenly his injuries were the last thing on his mind. “What’s-”
“I need a drink,” Philippe cut him off.
He watched as the Belgian crossed to his liquor cabinet and opened the door to it before he could say anything. That wasn’t where the alcohol was currently being kept. Finding it empty Philippe turned accusing eyes on him and he was suddenly facing the prospect of becoming enemy rather than friend. “Where is it Vino?”
He opened his mouth to speak but he wasn’t sure what it was he should say. He could provide an answer which would give Philippe what he wanted but Alexandre wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. Besides, if all Philippe wanted was to drink then there was no reason to have covered all those miles to get to his house. “PhilGil-” he started.
“Don’t call me that,” Philippe snapped. “Now where’s the damn alcohol and don’t even think about telling me you’re out. I know you Vino, you’re never out.”
He couldn’t blame Philippe for being somewhat sceptical because it wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence. It’s true that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be without a bottle of something but that was before. He wasn’t out now, it had just been... relocated for his own protection. Apparently. “I’m not, it’s-”
“Vino,” Philippe snapped having no patience for anything other than a reply to his question. “Where is it?”
Still he hesitated knowing that providing an answer would in no way solve whatever was going on. It would provide a wonderful distraction but at some point it would run out and all that would’ve changed was the hangover and the lost time. “Why don’t-” he tried.
“Vino!”
He sighed as he realised that there was only one way this conversation was going to end and he didn’t think Philippe driving on unfamiliar roads in the dark like this would be a good idea. Besides, it’d take a local to find something open at this time of night. “Far wall, third cabinet on the right,” he responded.
He watched the Belgian disappear and he heard banging of cabinet doors in the kitchen. Under other circumstances he’d smile at all the different doors and drawers being opened but not now he knew they were fuelled by desperation. He wanted but for that he needed to know what was going on.
Philippe returned with a bottle of vodka with a shot glass in his hand. Alexandre wasn’t sure the glass would get much use but since talking wasn’t really what was required of him tonight he kept his thoughts to himself. He watched the Belgian down a shot before putting the bottle down on the table.
Philippe dropped down heavily onto the sofa and he tried not to wince as the movement jostled his tired limbs. The combination of pain and fatigue was starting to make him feel a little sick and the sofa cushions moving wasn’t helping much. He attempted to shift and then regretted it as the pain cranked up a notch. Obviously staying up past his bed time hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had. If he could send Philippe in the direction of a bed sometime soon then he would probably be able to tolerate it, otherwise he was going to be in big trouble. “Are you even meant to be out of bed?” Philippe asked all of a sudden.
He looked across at his friend and tried to smile. “Absolutely.”
The Belgian got this look of disbelief on his face and Alexandre felt his body start to relax just a little. This was something he could handle, something familiar that had been missing. “Fine, so maybe not right now...” he let his words trail off.
“We should probably get you to bed then, yeah?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest settling back on the sofa again. Philippe rolled his eyes and then looked around for the crutches. Once they were resting against the sofa again the Belgian looked at him expectantly. He didn’t move and that made Philippe get up from the sofa. “Come on.”
“I’m perfectly happy where I am, thanks,” he said.
Philippe bent down and picked up a coloured bottle and looks at it before looking at him. The pills inside rattled when the bottle was shaken and he saw a look of understanding cross the Belgian’s face. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m fine,” he insisted.
“You’re not, you’re a lot paler than you were when I got here. You shouldn’t be up.”
“I just needed-”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to talk,” Philippe commented. “I’ll be right back.”
Philippe left the room again and this time when he returned he was holding a glass of water. “How many?”
“One now, one when I get to bed,” he said, giving up on pretending things were all right.
Philippe took off the lid of the medicine and tipped it until one fell out. He put the lid back on the bottle before holding out the tablet and the glass of water. Alexandre took the painkiller and put it in his mouth before taking the glass and swallowing it. “I could do with a hand,” he muttered wishing this wasn’t going to be so humiliating.
Philippe put down the glass before coming to stand before him. “Where do you want me?”
“Why can’t you say things like that when I’m not in pain?”
“Because you’d take shameless advantage,” Philippe stated.
He instructed his friend on what he needed and a few moments later he was standing on his feet. He rested his forehead against the Belgian’s shoulder and breathed in deeply trying to stop the world from spinning. It was so strange to be next to someone who didn’t smell of antiseptic even though it had been a while since he’d been in hospital. Generally people didn’t get too close to him in case they hurt him. “Did you just sniff me?” Philippe asked in amusement.
“Shut up.”
“You going to be okay to get yourself there?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
Philippe shifted slowly and grabbed his crutches. Once he had his arms on them he shifted back. The Belgian picked up his glass of water and his painkillers and they slowly shuffled towards his room.
Once they were inside Philippe helped him into bed and he was thankful that at least he was in his pyjamas already. Once he was tucked up and had taken his other painkiller Philippe moved back slightly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Philippe,” he murmured.
“Tomorrow,” Philippe promised.
He nodded in agreement even as his eyes started to feel heavy. He just hoped he could sleep tonight, he really needed it. “The spare room-”
“I have been here before, I think I can work it out,” Philippe teased.
“I know, just should be better at this.”
“I’ll let you off this time seeing as you have broken bones but I expect you to make it up to me next time I come to stay.”
“Does this mean you’re going to say inadvisable things to me too?” he asked sleepily.
“Maybe if you’re very good,” Philippe said. “Now go to sleep.”
The crunch of the gravel underneath the car wheels drew Alexandre’s attention away from the television and towards the clock. The jet black sky when he looked out of the front window would have told him it was way past the usual acceptable visiting hours even without looking at the clock. All of which meant if this really was a visitor for him he was going to have to go and open the front door himself rather than having someone about who could open it for him.
He shifted around awkwardly on the sofa so his feet were resting on the floor and then looked for his crutches. This was going to be a production and he still might not get there before they left. Maybe he’d just stay here on the sofa and wait to see what happened. If they left he wouldn’t have to get up and that would be best all around since his painkillers had fallen down the side of the sofa an hour ago and he couldn’t get to them. He was definitely not going to be announcing his stupidity to the world any time soon.
Luck wasn’t on his side this evening as soon enough he heard footsteps and then his doorbell rang. Maybe they would still go away? He eyed his crutches again with reluctance before sinking back into the sofa. He’d be in enough trouble if anyone found out he’d gotten out of bed again tonight, he didn’t need to add the further complication of having to hide the evidence of anyone else being there while he was at it.
Whoever was at his door knocked on it trying to get his attention and he felt a little bad for ignoring them. He pushed aside the twinge of conscience easily enough when confronted with the choice of his activities being discovered and his space being invaded further. It was hard enough as it is managing the simple things let alone all the questions he got about his cycling career and what his future plans were. When he was alone was the only time he got when things were just quiet, without demands on him, and it had been difficult enough to get just a few hours by himself.
The screen on his mobile phone lit up the mostly dark room and he looked down at it. Seeing the image displayed there being the one he used for only one man he made the effort to reach for it and pressed the button to answer the call. “Philippe?”
“You going to let me in or what?” came the cut response.
Alexandre sat up hastily at the tone and then hissed at the sharp pain that action prompted. He settled himself back on the sofa carefully and made a note never to do that again, or at least not until he’d recovered. “You’re here? What’s-”
“Just open the door, Vino,” Philippe interrupted.
“Third plant pot on the left,” he said. “Let yourself in.”
He hoped that was instruction enough but didn’t relax until he heard the key sliding in the lock and the front door opening. He wondered what it was that had made his friend come all this without as much as a call beforehand to notify him. It was out of character and combined with the tone was enough to tell him that something was very wrong.
He heard a bag land on the floor in the hallway which made him think this wasn’t just a quick trip. There was a brief pause before he heard footsteps coming towards him. The door was pushed open further and then all of a sudden Philippe appeared in the room. He looked ruffled and as though a great weight was sitting on his shoulders.
He couldn’t remember ever seeing Philippe so upset before and he cursed his inability to get up from where he was sitting with any degree of speed or grace. Something was terribly wrong and suddenly his injuries were the last thing on his mind. “What’s-”
“I need a drink,” Philippe cut him off.
He watched as the Belgian crossed to his liquor cabinet and opened the door to it before he could say anything. That wasn’t where the alcohol was currently being kept. Finding it empty Philippe turned accusing eyes on him and he was suddenly facing the prospect of becoming enemy rather than friend. “Where is it Vino?”
He opened his mouth to speak but he wasn’t sure what it was he should say. He could provide an answer which would give Philippe what he wanted but Alexandre wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. Besides, if all Philippe wanted was to drink then there was no reason to have covered all those miles to get to his house. “PhilGil-” he started.
“Don’t call me that,” Philippe snapped. “Now where’s the damn alcohol and don’t even think about telling me you’re out. I know you Vino, you’re never out.”
He couldn’t blame Philippe for being somewhat sceptical because it wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence. It’s true that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be without a bottle of something but that was before. He wasn’t out now, it had just been... relocated for his own protection. Apparently. “I’m not, it’s-”
“Vino,” Philippe snapped having no patience for anything other than a reply to his question. “Where is it?”
Still he hesitated knowing that providing an answer would in no way solve whatever was going on. It would provide a wonderful distraction but at some point it would run out and all that would’ve changed was the hangover and the lost time. “Why don’t-” he tried.
“Vino!”
He sighed as he realised that there was only one way this conversation was going to end and he didn’t think Philippe driving on unfamiliar roads in the dark like this would be a good idea. Besides, it’d take a local to find something open at this time of night. “Far wall, third cabinet on the right,” he responded.
He watched the Belgian disappear and he heard banging of cabinet doors in the kitchen. Under other circumstances he’d smile at all the different doors and drawers being opened but not now he knew they were fuelled by desperation. He wanted but for that he needed to know what was going on.
Philippe returned with a bottle of vodka with a shot glass in his hand. Alexandre wasn’t sure the glass would get much use but since talking wasn’t really what was required of him tonight he kept his thoughts to himself. He watched the Belgian down a shot before putting the bottle down on the table.
Philippe dropped down heavily onto the sofa and he tried not to wince as the movement jostled his tired limbs. The combination of pain and fatigue was starting to make him feel a little sick and the sofa cushions moving wasn’t helping much. He attempted to shift and then regretted it as the pain cranked up a notch. Obviously staying up past his bed time hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had. If he could send Philippe in the direction of a bed sometime soon then he would probably be able to tolerate it, otherwise he was going to be in big trouble. “Are you even meant to be out of bed?” Philippe asked all of a sudden.
He looked across at his friend and tried to smile. “Absolutely.”
The Belgian got this look of disbelief on his face and Alexandre felt his body start to relax just a little. This was something he could handle, something familiar that had been missing. “Fine, so maybe not right now...” he let his words trail off.
“We should probably get you to bed then, yeah?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest settling back on the sofa again. Philippe rolled his eyes and then looked around for the crutches. Once they were resting against the sofa again the Belgian looked at him expectantly. He didn’t move and that made Philippe get up from the sofa. “Come on.”
“I’m perfectly happy where I am, thanks,” he said.
Philippe bent down and picked up a coloured bottle and looks at it before looking at him. The pills inside rattled when the bottle was shaken and he saw a look of understanding cross the Belgian’s face. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m fine,” he insisted.
“You’re not, you’re a lot paler than you were when I got here. You shouldn’t be up.”
“I just needed-”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to talk,” Philippe commented. “I’ll be right back.”
Philippe left the room again and this time when he returned he was holding a glass of water. “How many?”
“One now, one when I get to bed,” he said, giving up on pretending things were all right.
Philippe took off the lid of the medicine and tipped it until one fell out. He put the lid back on the bottle before holding out the tablet and the glass of water. Alexandre took the painkiller and put it in his mouth before taking the glass and swallowing it. “I could do with a hand,” he muttered wishing this wasn’t going to be so humiliating.
Philippe put down the glass before coming to stand before him. “Where do you want me?”
“Why can’t you say things like that when I’m not in pain?”
“Because you’d take shameless advantage,” Philippe stated.
He instructed his friend on what he needed and a few moments later he was standing on his feet. He rested his forehead against the Belgian’s shoulder and breathed in deeply trying to stop the world from spinning. It was so strange to be next to someone who didn’t smell of antiseptic even though it had been a while since he’d been in hospital. Generally people didn’t get too close to him in case they hurt him. “Did you just sniff me?” Philippe asked in amusement.
“Shut up.”
“You going to be okay to get yourself there?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
Philippe shifted slowly and grabbed his crutches. Once he had his arms on them he shifted back. The Belgian picked up his glass of water and his painkillers and they slowly shuffled towards his room.
Once they were inside Philippe helped him into bed and he was thankful that at least he was in his pyjamas already. Once he was tucked up and had taken his other painkiller Philippe moved back slightly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Philippe,” he murmured.
“Tomorrow,” Philippe promised.
He nodded in agreement even as his eyes started to feel heavy. He just hoped he could sleep tonight, he really needed it. “The spare room-”
“I have been here before, I think I can work it out,” Philippe teased.
“I know, just should be better at this.”
“I’ll let you off this time seeing as you have broken bones but I expect you to make it up to me next time I come to stay.”
“Does this mean you’re going to say inadvisable things to me too?” he asked sleepily.
“Maybe if you’re very good,” Philippe said. “Now go to sleep.”