Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2010-11-22 09:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | michael, saint george, saint patrick |
Who: George, Patrick, Michael
When: Tuesday The future!
Where: Michael's apartment
What: Reflecting on Patrick's many good decisions. (Originally posted by George)
The deja vu was the worst part of it, George reflected, leaning against the window of the cab and feeling exhausted. 'His soul for oblivion', Michael had said. If that didn't sum up the state Sebastian had been in a couple of months ago, George didn't know what did. He'd have laughed if he didn't feel so very, very horrified by it all.
A part of him wanted to crawl into bed and just sleep until it was spring again.
Instead, he just climbed out of the cab once it was at Michael's building and made his way to the door, knocking and trying to look at least slightly cheerful.
Michael was sitting across from Patrick who had been trying not to look bored while Michael worked from home so he could babysit.
When Michael rose to answer the door, he didn't explain that it was probably George and Patrick didn't ask. He simply went to the door and opened it, smiling pleasantly at George because he looked like he could use it. "Patrick is in the living room distracting me," Michael said.
Patrick looked over when he heard Michael's words and when he caught sight of his brother, he stood up quickly, looking beyond regretful. "George!"
George gave Michael a small smile in return, and then caught sight of Patrick. He walked past Michael, moving steadily towards Patrick until he was right in front of him. Then he grabbed him and wrapped him in a bear hug that took Patrick's feet off the ground.
"I oughta kick your ass," George mumbled into Patrick's shoulder, and he would have steadfastly denied the fact that he sounded like he might cry.
Patrick had been afraid for a moment that George was going to kick his ass, but when it was a familiar George Bear Hug that his brother had in mind instead, Patrick relaxed into George's arms.
Michael vacated the room, at least for a moment, though it was hard to tell if it was because he had something to do, or if he actually was giving them a moment to talk.
"George, I'm sorry," Patrick said against his brother's shoulder, since his voice was muffled too. "That's all I ever say to you lately."
"It's okay," George said, not wanting to let go of Patrick. "Just don't ever do it again." Finally, though, he put his brother down so that they could both breathe. He collapsed back against the couch afterwards, looking up at Patrick.
"Tell me what happened."
Patrick sighed and he hung his head as George asked what happened. He felt ridiculous, standing there in Michael's clothes, which were too big for him. Michael was taller than Patrick so he felt dwarfed by the clothes and the information he had to try to convey to his brother.
Patrick balled up his fists in the too-long sleeves of Michael's shirt and then he went to sit beside his brother because he felt ridiculous standing up. "Lucifer came to see me at work the other day and...when he was there, he asked me to think about why God had allowed me to become such a mockery. And I listened. I gave in to the drink he offered me and I questioned- That's when I was arrested. But the questioning didn't stop. And George, all I wanted was to...I wanted to fade away since all that I am supposed to be died away a long time ago."
"You're not a mockery, Patrick," George said, shaking his head. Tugging on his brother's sleeve, he pulled him down next to him on the couch. "I'm serious. You aren't."
He rubbed his face, trying to think of the best way to explain it. "You've changed from what you were, yeah. But Patrick, the world changed too. You can't roam the countryside cutting the heads off Druids anymore. We change as people change, or we become irrelevant. Am I less of a saint because I'm not storming the gates of Jerusalem anymore?"
Patrick looked up when George mentioned his druid head removal service he had performed on many occasions and despite the fact that it was quit gruesome, he smiled a little at his brother. "I suppose you have a point there. Could you imagine me beheading anyone now? I'd drop the...thing...and behead myself.
"Michael told me the same thing this morning. Not...about beheading. He said times have changed. And you're both right, but yesterday I still did a stupid thing and I asked Satan and Lucifer if they knew away I could die and stay that way."
That made George launch another hug towards Patrick. Damn, he was clingy today. But the thought of Patrick being dead made him panic more than a little.
"Were you tired?" George asked. "Did you just...want it all to stop for a while?"
Oh George. Patrick didn't let go of George when the hug ended. He clung to George's sleeve and he nodded because it was true. "I still am tired," Patrick said quietly. "And I still do want it all to stop for a while. Difference is, I know it can't and a deal with devils isn't going to help."
George nodded. "I think we all feel like that at least some of the time. And it's been rough for you lately anyway. My solution is usually a hell of a lot of sleep."
George petted Patrick's hair, which was sticking up in its usual way. "But you can't die. First, because you can get through this. And second because it would break everyone's hearts and I'd have to go and get you out of the afterlife myself."
Patrick, who was always grateful for the easy affection between then, leaned his head into George's hand for a moment and then he gave his brother an inquiring glance. "I don't want to break your heart, George. It's the last thing you deserve. Have you been feeling tired and a little like you want it all to end lately too?"
George laughed a little, despite there not being much that was funny, and let his head lay back against the couch.
"Oh Patty," he sighed, "it was every day for a while. And then I came here, I found Sebastian, and I felt like I had a reason to keep going, you know? Sebastian needed me." He bit his lip. "And now I'm just scared I'm going to let him down."
The fact that George had felt that way for a long time made Patrick feel terrible and panicky and just a little bit like he deserved that for what he was putting George through.
"George, look at you..." Patrick said and then he reached out his head and he butted it gently against George's arm. "You're here for me. Michael didn't even tell me he told you, but I'm guessing you showed up the second you heard. You always do. You've never let me down. Not in hundreds and hundreds of years." Patrick rested his head back against the sofa as well, though he kept his focus on his brother.
"And if I could stop distracting you, it'd help, but you won't let Sebastian down. You love each other. I think that tends to keep people afloat. Maybe I need a wonderful husband too." And then Patrick's head lifted quickly and he searched for any signs of listening archangels before he turned back to George with a 'woopsie' face. Michael was not an approver of inter-Santial marriage.
"Hey, you are not a distraction," George said, smiling at Patrick. "You're my brother. You're one of the people that keep happy and alive and okay. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you."
He snickered at Patrick's glance towards where Michael had vanished off to. "You obviously oughta elope with some pretty young saint."
"Obviously," Patrick said in his 'we're conspiring!' voice. "After I'm not under house arrest any more. Not that I- I'm really glad he was there, Georgie. It helps in that...you not having to find out what you'd do without me thing. I was- Well, I was drunk and stupid. And he just burst through the door and hurled his sword and Lucifer and Satan and I cowered on the floor because it was terrifying. I'll stay on his side, thank you!"
"Michael is so cool when he starts kicking ass and taking names," George said, his eyes temporarily full of hero worship and glee. "He cares about you, you know. I mean, he wears his Stoic Angel Face really well, but I think he'd freak if anything happened to us. You've got a lot of people invested in making sure you're okay, man. Even if you feel alone."
"He said that too," Patrick nodded. "I've just been so trained not to say 'hey look at me, focus on me' so I've been...festering in it. He told me to turn to someone when I needed it. I reckon I can do that. George I...I have to be honest. I don't like me. Not like this. I don't like the way I think and the things I do. But Michael managed to remind me that it's God's plan and so I think...I think the first thing I have to do is learn how to like me because I'm stuck with this guy. Silly palm confetti, alcoholism and all."
"The palm confetti thing is awesome, dude, I will keep telling you that until you believe it," George said, poking Patrick in the chest. Voice more serious, he added, "And I wish you'd believe me when I tell you that you're an equally awesome person."
Patrick heaved a heavy sigh and then he fell forward until he was leaning against George's shoulder. "I just have to learn that for myself. But you saying it will, no doubt, help. I won't go anywhere, George. And I am...so sorry I was ever selfish enough to think I should."
George leaned his head against Patrick's, feeling an incredible sense of relief that his brother seemed a lot more stable and far less likely to start selling his soul to anyone.
"So, when Sebastian and I got married, we promised that we'd keep each other from doing stupid things," George said. "Those were actually pretty much our vows. Love, honor, cherish, keep your husband from throwing himself at a giant fire-breathing death machine. You want to make the same promise? Like, for example, you can keep me from going and trying to decapitate Satan and Lucifer."
Patrick grinned and he nodded, his head against George's head. Which was slightly awkward, but it made him smile. "Brother vows? I like it. We'll call each other and talk each other down from making bad decisions. And, George...stay with us, don't go a-decapitating."
Patrick knew George stood a chance at least. His older brother was a badass mofo and Patrick had threatened many people over the centuries with 'I'm going to tell my big brother and he is going to kick your ass' but this was different. "I'm afraid they'll...they could do worse things than kill you and send you to Heaven for a holiday."
Things they probably would have done to him if he had signed that parchment Lucifer had offered.
Patrick shuddered.
"Probably," George agreed, considering launching another hug Patrick's way. He really did not like to think of his brother alone with those two. "It'd be worth it though, to get to stab them."
He shook his head. "I guess I get why they're going after saints. It makes a kind of twisted sense. I just don't understand how someone could be that...Fallen. I mean, they were the same as Michael, once upon a time. Well, probably not as cool, but similar. They were angels."
"They said I wouldn't care," Patrick whispered, his head still close enough to George's that he would hear. "That I wouldn't know any guilt or worry. And I don't want to feel that, but I kept thinking about everything else I would be giving up. Because not caring would mean...it would mean not caring about you or Andrew or Dewi or Sebastian or Agatha... That's not worth not feeling guilty to me.
"It's sort of sad. They don't have that. They just have the absence of morality. They can do terrible things and not care, but who cares about them." And then Patrick chuckled. "I sound like an after school special about Care Bears or something."
"Do you remember the times when there was a big push to pray for their souls?" George asked. "Sometimes I think people could only do that because none of them had actually met Satan or Lucifer. The last time I saw Satan, before this, he--she, whichever, was hanging around the camps where the government was sending Japanese citizens in WWII. She was laughing."
Patrick hid his face in George's shoulder just thinking about it. "I can't even...I can't imagine." Patrick heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm so tired," he whispered. "And I slept for the first time in weeks last night. Apparently angels help sleep happen."
George patted his brother on the shoulder. "Then being here's probably the best thing for you, considering that anything stupid enough to try and get you at Michael's deserves whatever it gets."
"It really does. Though I still wish I knew who sent me the snakes. Mmm don't move. You are very comfortable. They don't say that when they write about you, you know. Someone should tell the masses that Saint George is not only good with a sword, but he is very comfortable."
Which was, of course, when Michael chose to re-enter the room. Patrick nearly jumped up and away from his brother, merely because he didn't want the angel to see him looking so thoroughly lazy, but Michael had now seen him looking far worse. So Michael found the two brothers cuddled up on his sofa and though his expression didn't change, he at least sounded amused when he said, "I leave the room for five minutes," and he shook his head. Then he shocked Patrick by asking, rather awkwardly, "do you feel better, Patrick?"
"I do," Patrick said quickly to reassure both of them. "Thank you. Both of you."