Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2010-12-11 10:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint david, saint patrick |
Who: Patrick and David
What: A slight case of begging.
When: After David's journal entry
Where: Their apartment
Notes: Nope, not another one. Certainly not.
Patrick had always been at odds with the church. From the time he became a priest, he was pushing the boundaries of their religion. And when he travelled to Ireland as a bishop, he faced murder and hate and many things every day because his ideals not only went against the Druid faith of Ireland, but they didn't always mesh with the Church either. He denounced the institutions of slavery as well as the way the Roman Empire and the church treated women. He was used to being an outcast and a rebel, and he was starting to remember that it was normal for him.
Just not with his own family.
Patrick didn't honestly care what David thought about his relationship with John because he knew there would always be people who couldn't understand it. It wasn't that that was panicking him. He had told David that if left to his imagination, he would decide that David felt all manner of things David did, in fact, not feel. And when David hadn't elaborated on his feelings, it had kicked Patrick's imagination into overdrive.
Patrick had been without his family now for decades. Some he hadn't seen for centuries. And until connecting back with George a few months ago, he had been utterly alone (except during the day) for two decades. The thought of losing his family again now was absolutely crippling.
Leaving his computer, Patrick went down the hallway to David's room. He was on the verge of tears when he knocked and then he did something he would never do under normal circumstances. He opened David's door and he burst into tears. "Dewi!" he said, letting out a sob. "Don't leave!"
David turned around in surprise, closing his laptop and standing up.
"Patrick! Whatever made you think I was going to leave?" he said, going to Patrick to hug him because even though he is angry and upset, he wouldn't leave his brother standing in tears and not go to him.
Patrick just embraced David tightly, refusing to let go. It was as if he hadn't heard a word David had said. "Please just don't go," he whispered into David's hair. "Don't go away."
David sighed heavily, patting Patrick's back gently to soothe him. "I'm not leaving you, Pat," he said, then when Patrick didn't respond right away, he took his shoulders and held him out at arms length, making him look him in the face. "Patrick. I am not going to leave you. I have promised you before and I promise you again."
Patrick sniffed hard and he looked David in the face before looking away, miserably. He could feel panic just under the surface, rising up, inexplicably. He couldn't explain it, at least not yet, but the fear that he would lose his family was almost palpable. "Dewi...I-I know you promised, but I-" Patrick forced himself to take a deep breath in.
"I am so afraid of being alone."
Why was it? He could almost put his finger on it.
David glanced upward a moment, and let go of Patrick. "So am I," he said quietly, sitting down heavily on the edge of his bed and leaning on his knees.
Patrick sniffed, wiping at his eyes a moment and then he gave David a puzzled look. "What?" he asked, going to sit next to David on the bed.
David rested his forehead on his palms, curled in on himself. He hadn't wanted to talk to Patrick about this yet. He'd wanted to sort himself out before he tried to verbalise it (or ideally, not have to mention it again.)
"I can't help you."
Patrick blinked a few times and then he reached out to touch his brother's shoulder. All thoughts of his own welfare were gone now because David looked so sad. Which was actually better. All of a sudden, Patrick could focus again. It didn't feel like the walls were closing in on him.
"Dewi-" Patrick ran his fingers through his hair and then he turned to face his brother. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I am superfluous to you. I can't-" David growled under his breath. This had to be explained completely or not at all, and he didn't want Patrick to continue to freak out. He lifted his head, staying looking at the floor, but opening up his body language a little.
"I have been a Saint for eight hundred and ninety years, and I have, for the most part, stuck to my principles. How I lived in life is how I have always tried to live in this afterlife. But it means... It means I get left behind. I'm supposed to represent a country, a people, that has no real national identity in America. I have only my past to live by. I don't know how I'm supposed to be now, Patrick. I can't keep up with you. I can't help you."
Patrick watched his brother and he thought his heart might break. Of course. Of course Patrick would suffer from a country that had an overflow of national identify in America, so much so that he had become much more a cultural entity than a religious one. And David suffered from the opposite. He was as much the saint he had been nearly 900 years ago as Patrick was not. And Patrick hadn't noticed.
"David," Patrick said softly, "I'm so sorry. You...you can help me. You do help me! I need to remember the things I've forgotten. I want to get back in touch with who I used to be. And Dewi, I love you. Having you with me, here...it has meant the world to me. That's all I really need."
David frowned, a bitchy comment on the tip of his tongue. He glanced sideways at Patrick, but let it go. "I promised you I wasn't going anywhere. I am here to help you." There's was a slight emphasis on the I, subtle but there, betraying his current attitude towards John, but that was as much of a concession as he was going to let out right now. It was about self-discipline. He would pass this test too.
Patrick nodded and he let out a sigh. "I panicked," he whispered. "I panicked because I- I was taken from my family, Dewi, and I've been writing things down for Clio and I just remembered how it felt to be ripped from their arms and I can't get it out of my chest, that feeling of despair and terror and I can't stand it, I lost you all before and I can't do it again."
"Things have changed for us since then. We have to rely on each other." David recognised the irony in saying things had changed after bemoaning the fact that it all stayed the same, but it was true. Their relationship had grown at least. "I lived always in a sheltered community, with other monks who thought the same way I did, and people think so differently now. We both have to learn to adjust."
Patrick nodded, though it didn't take that feeling of panic away. "We do," he breathed, clutching his brother's hand. "We have to rely on each other." At least with David saying that he was sure David wasn't leaving him. He could write out the rest of his sob story about being torn away from his family by slave traders later. No one was tearing him away from David, or vice versa.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about John, Dewi. I...I was afraid."
"I don't blame you for it. Everything has been so messed up." David squeezed Patrick's hand gently, reassuringly. "Just because my principles have always been about self-denial doesn't mean yours have to be."
Patrick smiled at David then, even through his worry and he reached out to hug David sideways, resting his chin on David's shoulder. "You're not superfluous to me," he said firmly. "You will never be superfluous to me."
David reached up to pat Patrick's hand. He let them sit together in silence for a moment, then said, "Are you sure about you and John? This is what you really truly want? Just, from the outside, it looks... unhealthy for you. Don't take that the wrong way. I just don't want you to get messed up by anyone else."
Patrick didn't mind David saying. It meant he cared. "It's what I want," he said, sure that God had put John in his way for a reason, just as John was sure. "He's helping me so much, but that doesn't mean you don't."