3.11. "Try not to be a jerk. I'm trying. I'm just failing."
House, M.D.
Co-written with
sexyinscrubs | Follows
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THIS Pat bit down on his lip as he watched Lachlan across the cafeteria table. The Scot, adorned in light blue ER scrubs, was slump down in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him under the table. The tray containing what should have been his dinner was untouched while he stared blankly at the screen of his cell phoned cupped in his hands. Another moment passed and Lachlan hit the call button again, putting the phone to his ear. "Tara, baby, it's me. Again. Can you call me, please? I know you're pissed, you have every right to be. I just want to know how the wee one is. And I... I'm sorry. I didnae mean it. Can you just call me? Please?" He ended the call and went right back to staring at the blank screen.
"Maybe try calling Riley and Evie's landline?" Pat suggested, giving Lachlan's tray a small nudge so it shifted closer to him in a not so subtle hint to eat something. "Lachie, do you want me to shove this sandwich down your throat? I will, you know. You need to try and put in a second half of an ER shift, and you're going to try and do it running on empty? What do you want me to do? Aiden's home. Do you want me to get him to drop around and see if Riley's okay?" This was actually the first time in months that the two old friends had shared a meal at work together. Pat was only just transitioning back into work again, mostly desk work and seeing patients for pre-anaesthetic appointments in the lead up to their surgery, and he was only working a couple of days a week so far. Lachlan had been doing shifts in the Hematology clinic while he studied for his Psychology degree. He had agreed to fill some shifts in the ER if they needed it, but so far they had been few and far between. That afternoon, their rosters just crossed for the first time in what felt like forever. But Lachlan had more than enough reason to be distracted. He had told Pat everything that had happened, and while Pat did give him a verbal slap for being so stupid, he understood. He, himself, had been guilty of irrational explosions at his husband when he was ill and things were strained. The whole issue alone was a huge factor why Pat didn't think he could ever let himself take Tara and Lachlan's offer for Tara to be a surrogate for him and Aiden. The infertility issue was always going to be sensitive. Pat knew they wanted to help, and give them a child, but he could never expect to rub Lachlan's nose in it by having to witness Tara pregnant with someone else's baby. Pat couldn't do it.
Lachlan picked up the sandwich and shoved half of it in his mouth in a large bite, chewing it and then swallowing as his eyes never left the screen. "Evie said Tara left hours ago. Something about maybe giving the bairn a warm bath in case he was cranky from wind. Usually helps. I've really pissed her off this time. She never nay calls me back." He finally glanced up and met Pat's eyes. "Would he be alright with that, aye? Even if she doesnae want to talk to me, she'll talk to Aiden."
Pat pressed his lips together and took out his own cell. He pulled up the first number on his list while he gestured pointedly to Lachlan's dinner. One bite out of half a sandwich wasn't going to cut it. "Aiden, darling, it's me. I need a favour." He watched Lachlan until his friend flipped him off and then picked up the sandwich again. "Can you go around to Tara and Lachie's to make sure Tara's okay? She's not answering Lachie's calls. Long story short, he's in the piss with her, but it's not like her not to call him back, especially about Riley. Can you drop around, make sure everything's okay?" He nodded and then smiled. "You're gay, darling. If she's hating on the male species, you probably don't count in her eyes. I love you too." He ended the call with a small sigh.
"Thanks, Patto," Lachlan mumbled as he picked half-heartedly at the edge of the crust on the sandwich. "Got any suggestions on how to get out of said piss?" he asked helplessly. If there was one thing in life that piqued his discontent, it was Tara being angry at him. It was like they lost their footing and he couldn't settle again until things were okay.
"Stop being an irrational arsehole, buddy," was Pat's reply. "Tara's the last person in the world who deserves to be your scapegoat. And think about the surgery. Is it really going to screw with you so much to just think about it? All she wants if for you to finally get some relief in your suffering. You scratch your balls or fart, and it's her business. Whether you choose to have that surgery or not is just as much her business as it is yours. She's the one that is going to be left holding everything into place in the wake of it. Don't ever hurt her like that again or I'll kick you up the arse myself."
Lachlan felt like a piece of shit. He couldn't believe he said that to her. "You're right," he said through a heavy sigh.
"Of course I am," Pat snorted, shaking his head slightly as he looked at his friend in concern. "Now shut up and eat your dinner," he added quietly. But for some reason niggling in his gut, though, something about Tara not calling Lachlan back didn't feel right. At all.
All muses referenced with permission and are from the
princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 971