just_1_word | 22.7. Early
22.7. Early
Co-written with pullmysteth & sexyinscrubs
[Follows THIS]
When Lachlan arrived in his son's room early that morning, the last thing he really expected to see was both Riley and Pat there. Of course he didn't have a problem with it, and it was actually a relief, but he just really wasn't in the mood for talking to anyone. He was sort of teetering between anger, worry, and downright confused. It wasn't a pretty mix on little to no sleep. He also knew he looked like shit, so he wasn't particularly surprised when words to that effect were the first out of Pat's mouth.
"You look like shit on legs, darling." Pat's eyes were now locked on Lachlan in scrutiny. They had been friends for so long now that there was very little Lachlan could hide from him.
Lachlan just cleared his throat, extracting his hands from the pockets of his leather jacket, and went over to his son's crib. The baby boy was sleeping peacefully, so Lachlan picked up the chart to closely examine every minute of his overnight progress. "I didnae get any sleep. It's fine," he said shortly, eyes on the progress notes. He glanced momentarily up at Riley before going back to the charts. "Thanks for taking care of him for me."
Riley shared a look with Pat. Something was off. It was almost like he could see barriers up around his friend that hadn't been there in some time. Lachlan seemed angry, but like he was hiding it. It didn't make sense, though. The night before, he had shown no issues with the fact his wife was out getting drunk. In fact, he had been happy she was having fun and glad she was relaxing a little. "How's Tara doing? She still paying for celebrating the best way the Irish know how?" he asked with a small smile.
"I've got her in the ER," Lachlan told them distractedly. "She was up all night vomiting, so I wanted her to get some IV fluids before things took a turn for the worst. I couldnae handle them both in here. I'll bring her up here for the bairn when the IV has run through. I dinnae think the drinking was a good idea." In hindsight, maybe.
Riley nodded. "But it's just once a year. She'll probably regret it and swear off booze, then forget all about it next St Patrick's Day." He paused, standing and adjusting his shirt. "Is everything alright, mate? Besides Tara having the world's worst hangover, I mean. Are you okay?"
The file was shoved roughly back into the holder on the wall. "I said I was fucking fine!" Lachlan snapped. He held his hand up and had to turn away from them. If he held their gaze, he wouldn't be able to keep from blurting something out he regretted. "Can you just... leave me alone? Please? I havenae slept, my son is sick, my wife... isnane in a very good condition. I'm tired and I just dinnae feel like talking. I really appreciate all your help with Riley, especially overnight, but I... I just need some space."
Pat frowned and couldn't stifle a small, worried sigh. "Is there anything you need us to do or help you with, Lachie? If you haven't slept, we can stay longer while you do," he offered carefully.
"No," came Lachlan's barely audible answer. He turned back to them with a shake of his head. "I just really want to be alone with my son. I'll get some sleep when my in-laws get here in a wee while."
Riley nodded again and went over to Pat to help him up. "If you need to talk, mate, you know where we are. Anytime."
"Yeah, Lachie. Any time, okay?" Pat added for emphasis, speaking quietly. Lachlan had that edge to his voice that sounded like he was close to tears, but pushing him wasn't going to do any good and would probably just piss him off more if he wanted to be alone.
"Aye," Lachlan agreed and turned back to get a fresh diaper from the rack for his son. If only talking could help.
Word Count | 685
Co-written with pullmysteth & sexyinscrubs
[Follows THIS]
When Lachlan arrived in his son's room early that morning, the last thing he really expected to see was both Riley and Pat there. Of course he didn't have a problem with it, and it was actually a relief, but he just really wasn't in the mood for talking to anyone. He was sort of teetering between anger, worry, and downright confused. It wasn't a pretty mix on little to no sleep. He also knew he looked like shit, so he wasn't particularly surprised when words to that effect were the first out of Pat's mouth.
"You look like shit on legs, darling." Pat's eyes were now locked on Lachlan in scrutiny. They had been friends for so long now that there was very little Lachlan could hide from him.
Lachlan just cleared his throat, extracting his hands from the pockets of his leather jacket, and went over to his son's crib. The baby boy was sleeping peacefully, so Lachlan picked up the chart to closely examine every minute of his overnight progress. "I didnae get any sleep. It's fine," he said shortly, eyes on the progress notes. He glanced momentarily up at Riley before going back to the charts. "Thanks for taking care of him for me."
Riley shared a look with Pat. Something was off. It was almost like he could see barriers up around his friend that hadn't been there in some time. Lachlan seemed angry, but like he was hiding it. It didn't make sense, though. The night before, he had shown no issues with the fact his wife was out getting drunk. In fact, he had been happy she was having fun and glad she was relaxing a little. "How's Tara doing? She still paying for celebrating the best way the Irish know how?" he asked with a small smile.
"I've got her in the ER," Lachlan told them distractedly. "She was up all night vomiting, so I wanted her to get some IV fluids before things took a turn for the worst. I couldnae handle them both in here. I'll bring her up here for the bairn when the IV has run through. I dinnae think the drinking was a good idea." In hindsight, maybe.
Riley nodded. "But it's just once a year. She'll probably regret it and swear off booze, then forget all about it next St Patrick's Day." He paused, standing and adjusting his shirt. "Is everything alright, mate? Besides Tara having the world's worst hangover, I mean. Are you okay?"
The file was shoved roughly back into the holder on the wall. "I said I was fucking fine!" Lachlan snapped. He held his hand up and had to turn away from them. If he held their gaze, he wouldn't be able to keep from blurting something out he regretted. "Can you just... leave me alone? Please? I havenae slept, my son is sick, my wife... isnane in a very good condition. I'm tired and I just dinnae feel like talking. I really appreciate all your help with Riley, especially overnight, but I... I just need some space."
Pat frowned and couldn't stifle a small, worried sigh. "Is there anything you need us to do or help you with, Lachie? If you haven't slept, we can stay longer while you do," he offered carefully.
"No," came Lachlan's barely audible answer. He turned back to them with a shake of his head. "I just really want to be alone with my son. I'll get some sleep when my in-laws get here in a wee while."
Riley nodded again and went over to Pat to help him up. "If you need to talk, mate, you know where we are. Anytime."
"Yeah, Lachie. Any time, okay?" Pat added for emphasis, speaking quietly. Lachlan had that edge to his voice that sounded like he was close to tears, but pushing him wasn't going to do any good and would probably just piss him off more if he wanted to be alone.
"Aye," Lachlan agreed and turned back to get a fresh diaper from the rack for his son. If only talking could help.
Word Count | 685