just_1_word | 9.2. Hurting
9.2. Hurting
The corridor of the west Medical ward at Mount Sinai hospital was dimly lit, and Aiden stood there in an alcove near the pay phone with his hand pressed over his mouth. It was a desperate attempt not to cry, but it was fruitless. A sob was muffled behind his hand and he choked it down, dragging a rough breath through his nose. He didn’t even know if he could classify what had just happened as an argument because he hadn’t really argued back. Pat had snapped when Aiden tried to help him with his pyjama top. Pat just hadn’t been able to work the buttons and he was having a difficult time with it. Aiden realised he probably should have asked Pat if he needed the help instead of just rushing in to do it anyway. Inevitably Pat had pushed his hands away with a growl of ‘If I need help, I’ll fucking ask for it!’
Aiden knew his biggest mistake then had been to come back with a frustrated ‘But you don’t ask me! You always ask everyone else!’ Pat had inevitably reacted badly. He demanded to know what Aiden was implying and then in his own angry frustration at being sick and disabled once again, exploded at Aiden saying he knew he could trust his family but Aiden could walk out at any moment.
And Aiden did.
He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to fight with Pat and certainly didn’t want his boyfriend annihilating the little energy he had on a screaming match. This was obviously part of the ‘bad’ Pat had tried to warn him about. Aiden didn’t know how he was supposed to have been prepared for this. The hurt gripped like an icy fist around his gut and he turned in against the wall so anyone passing wouldn’t see his face. He let the helpless tears come with nothing more than some soft sniffling. He had to get the tension out some way for fear he was going to explode. He had to remind himself that Pat’s anger was likely misdirected and he just got in the firing line. When Aiden arrived back at the hospital earlier, Pat had been in an odd mood. He was quiet and moody, so the abrupt snap wasn’t entirely surprising. It just made it worse for Aiden because he felt so out of the loop. It was true what he has said; he felt like Pat asked everyone else for help before him, but who could blame him? He did know he could trust his family and friends above all else. They had been there for him through the terrible times and knew how to take care of him.
But how was Aiden ever going to learn if no one let him? How was Pat going to know he could trust him if he didn’t even need him in the first place? How was any of this going to work if all Aiden felt was like he was on the outside of a glass room looking in with no way of reaching Pat and everyone else on the inside? Now he didn’t even know what to do next. What was supposed to happen now? He slid down the wall and drew his knees up to hide his face in them. Maybe the question wasn’t whether Aiden wanted to be with Pat through it all. Maybe Pat just didn’t want Aiden?
Patrick Preston [sexyinscrubs] referenced with permission
Word Count | 576
The corridor of the west Medical ward at Mount Sinai hospital was dimly lit, and Aiden stood there in an alcove near the pay phone with his hand pressed over his mouth. It was a desperate attempt not to cry, but it was fruitless. A sob was muffled behind his hand and he choked it down, dragging a rough breath through his nose. He didn’t even know if he could classify what had just happened as an argument because he hadn’t really argued back. Pat had snapped when Aiden tried to help him with his pyjama top. Pat just hadn’t been able to work the buttons and he was having a difficult time with it. Aiden realised he probably should have asked Pat if he needed the help instead of just rushing in to do it anyway. Inevitably Pat had pushed his hands away with a growl of ‘If I need help, I’ll fucking ask for it!’
Aiden knew his biggest mistake then had been to come back with a frustrated ‘But you don’t ask me! You always ask everyone else!’ Pat had inevitably reacted badly. He demanded to know what Aiden was implying and then in his own angry frustration at being sick and disabled once again, exploded at Aiden saying he knew he could trust his family but Aiden could walk out at any moment.
And Aiden did.
He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to fight with Pat and certainly didn’t want his boyfriend annihilating the little energy he had on a screaming match. This was obviously part of the ‘bad’ Pat had tried to warn him about. Aiden didn’t know how he was supposed to have been prepared for this. The hurt gripped like an icy fist around his gut and he turned in against the wall so anyone passing wouldn’t see his face. He let the helpless tears come with nothing more than some soft sniffling. He had to get the tension out some way for fear he was going to explode. He had to remind himself that Pat’s anger was likely misdirected and he just got in the firing line. When Aiden arrived back at the hospital earlier, Pat had been in an odd mood. He was quiet and moody, so the abrupt snap wasn’t entirely surprising. It just made it worse for Aiden because he felt so out of the loop. It was true what he has said; he felt like Pat asked everyone else for help before him, but who could blame him? He did know he could trust his family and friends above all else. They had been there for him through the terrible times and knew how to take care of him.
But how was Aiden ever going to learn if no one let him? How was Pat going to know he could trust him if he didn’t even need him in the first place? How was any of this going to work if all Aiden felt was like he was on the outside of a glass room looking in with no way of reaching Pat and everyone else on the inside? Now he didn’t even know what to do next. What was supposed to happen now? He slid down the wall and drew his knees up to hide his face in them. Maybe the question wasn’t whether Aiden wanted to be with Pat through it all. Maybe Pat just didn’t want Aiden?
Patrick Preston [sexyinscrubs] referenced with permission
Word Count | 576