Fic: Things That Don't Exist (4/?)
0o0o0o0o0o
Brent’s nervous.
He’s sitting on the trainer’s table, staring at the blank Xray viewing screen. The trainer, Scott, is in the next room, leaving Brent alone in the silence of the room. Everyone else has already left; after spending another practice nearly too dizzy to skate, Brent finally caved and sought out Scott.
“So, Brent,” Scott’s voice makes Brent look up. Scott comes over, stands before him with a clipboard in hand. Brent can read too many terrible things on Scott’s face, things like I’m sorry and I don’t want to tell you this, and he wants to stop Scott before he can say anything. It’s not fair, Brent wants to break down and sob, I don’t want any of this to be happening.
“I know what’s wrong,” Scott says, and Brent tenses, waiting. Scott looks down at the papers, back up at him, worry creasing his face. “You’re pregnant.”
Brent’s mind goes completely blank. He stares at Scott, trying to wrap his thoughts around any words at all. “What?” he finally chokes out.
“You’re almost four months pregnant.” Scott’s voice is impossibly gentle, comforting.
“I can’t be,” Brent manages, and suddenly, he’s fighting tears. Scott looks down.
“It can happen. It has to do with extra chromosomes and things like that.”
“But.” Something in Brent’s chest is burning, so tight, “A baby.”
“You’re actually very lucky,” Scott says gently, “nothing happened to the baby even though you’ve been playing. Your baby’s perfectly healthy.”
He tells Brent more, about how he can’t play anymore, about making appointments with a specialist, about how he’ll make up an excuse until Brent wants to tell everyone the truth, to take as much time as he needs, but Brent barely registers it all. It takes far too long before he’s finally able to leave the building. The parking lot is empty as he opens his car door, pulls it closed behind him. He sinks into the seat, splays a hand over his stomach. A baby, he thinks, blind panic coursing through him. He can’t handle a baby, he just can’t, he doesn’t know anything about kids, he’s the least responsible person on Earth, he can’t do this alone - the thought makes his breathing hitch, because he suddenly realises.
This is Duncan’s baby too.
It’s only with this painful, horrible realisation that Brent finally loses whatever semblance of control he’d held onto, and he starts to sob.
0o0o0o0o0o
The next morning, Brent wakes up with a headache and has three minutes without worry before he remembers what he knows now. He sits on the side of the bed, squeezes his eyes shut against unwelcome tears. There’s just too much for him to deal with, and it’s all he can do not to break down. Things were bad before, but now, on the other side of things, he just wants that back. He wants to be worried about just feeling sick, about messy relationships and playing hockey, he doesn’t want to have to think about something he can’t run away from.
The doorbell rings, and Brent’s wildly grateful for the distraction before he starts to worry about who it might be. When he opens the door, however, it’s just Patrick.
“Hey,” Patrick says quietly. When he looks up, Brent sees that his eyes are slightly red. “You doing anything?”
“Nope,” Brent steps back, glad for the distraction. “What’s up?” This makes Patrick stop, his back still to Brent.
“Jonny texted me,” he says, shoulders slumping. “Said we should get around to… not being married.”
“Oh,” is all Brent can say, because there’s something he’s missing, something Patrick’s withholding. Patrick turns to face him, still staring at the floor.
“Thing is,” Patrick says quietly, “I don’t… I don’t want to.”
“Be married?”
“No,” Patrick whispers, “I want… I want more than this. I want more than what we had.” He looks up, scared eyes begging Brent to understand. “I was hoping this whole thing was… was something. But it’s just… all it does is show me what I can’t have, and that Jonny really, really doesn’t want me.”
“You…” Brent manages.
“Yeah,” Patrick’s voice trembles, “I really love him. Being married to him is like, the thing I dream about… but not like this,” he tries to go on, but his voice hitches and he sniffles. All at once, Brent gets it, gets everything. He gets why Patrick hasn’t been able to talk to Jonny, gets what exactly that ring he wears on a necklace is.
Brent doesn’t know what he could possibly say, so he just hugs Patrick hard and doesn’t say anything at all.
0o0o0o0o0o
Again, I'm really sorry this isn't finished! I'll be working on it :)
Brent’s nervous.
He’s sitting on the trainer’s table, staring at the blank Xray viewing screen. The trainer, Scott, is in the next room, leaving Brent alone in the silence of the room. Everyone else has already left; after spending another practice nearly too dizzy to skate, Brent finally caved and sought out Scott.
“So, Brent,” Scott’s voice makes Brent look up. Scott comes over, stands before him with a clipboard in hand. Brent can read too many terrible things on Scott’s face, things like I’m sorry and I don’t want to tell you this, and he wants to stop Scott before he can say anything. It’s not fair, Brent wants to break down and sob, I don’t want any of this to be happening.
“I know what’s wrong,” Scott says, and Brent tenses, waiting. Scott looks down at the papers, back up at him, worry creasing his face. “You’re pregnant.”
Brent’s mind goes completely blank. He stares at Scott, trying to wrap his thoughts around any words at all. “What?” he finally chokes out.
“You’re almost four months pregnant.” Scott’s voice is impossibly gentle, comforting.
“I can’t be,” Brent manages, and suddenly, he’s fighting tears. Scott looks down.
“It can happen. It has to do with extra chromosomes and things like that.”
“But.” Something in Brent’s chest is burning, so tight, “A baby.”
“You’re actually very lucky,” Scott says gently, “nothing happened to the baby even though you’ve been playing. Your baby’s perfectly healthy.”
He tells Brent more, about how he can’t play anymore, about making appointments with a specialist, about how he’ll make up an excuse until Brent wants to tell everyone the truth, to take as much time as he needs, but Brent barely registers it all. It takes far too long before he’s finally able to leave the building. The parking lot is empty as he opens his car door, pulls it closed behind him. He sinks into the seat, splays a hand over his stomach. A baby, he thinks, blind panic coursing through him. He can’t handle a baby, he just can’t, he doesn’t know anything about kids, he’s the least responsible person on Earth, he can’t do this alone - the thought makes his breathing hitch, because he suddenly realises.
This is Duncan’s baby too.
It’s only with this painful, horrible realisation that Brent finally loses whatever semblance of control he’d held onto, and he starts to sob.
0o0o0o0o0o
The next morning, Brent wakes up with a headache and has three minutes without worry before he remembers what he knows now. He sits on the side of the bed, squeezes his eyes shut against unwelcome tears. There’s just too much for him to deal with, and it’s all he can do not to break down. Things were bad before, but now, on the other side of things, he just wants that back. He wants to be worried about just feeling sick, about messy relationships and playing hockey, he doesn’t want to have to think about something he can’t run away from.
The doorbell rings, and Brent’s wildly grateful for the distraction before he starts to worry about who it might be. When he opens the door, however, it’s just Patrick.
“Hey,” Patrick says quietly. When he looks up, Brent sees that his eyes are slightly red. “You doing anything?”
“Nope,” Brent steps back, glad for the distraction. “What’s up?” This makes Patrick stop, his back still to Brent.
“Jonny texted me,” he says, shoulders slumping. “Said we should get around to… not being married.”
“Oh,” is all Brent can say, because there’s something he’s missing, something Patrick’s withholding. Patrick turns to face him, still staring at the floor.
“Thing is,” Patrick says quietly, “I don’t… I don’t want to.”
“Be married?”
“No,” Patrick whispers, “I want… I want more than this. I want more than what we had.” He looks up, scared eyes begging Brent to understand. “I was hoping this whole thing was… was something. But it’s just… all it does is show me what I can’t have, and that Jonny really, really doesn’t want me.”
“You…” Brent manages.
“Yeah,” Patrick’s voice trembles, “I really love him. Being married to him is like, the thing I dream about… but not like this,” he tries to go on, but his voice hitches and he sniffles. All at once, Brent gets it, gets everything. He gets why Patrick hasn’t been able to talk to Jonny, gets what exactly that ring he wears on a necklace is.
Brent doesn’t know what he could possibly say, so he just hugs Patrick hard and doesn’t say anything at all.
0o0o0o0o0o
Again, I'm really sorry this isn't finished! I'll be working on it :)