Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-01-23 11:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint david, saint patrick |
Who: David and Patrick
What: Brotherly chatting
When: Saturday, late afternoon
Where: Leaving the New York City Aquarium
Patrick and David walked back out into the harsh winter air, leaving behind the New York City aquarium where they had just spent their afternoon. Patrick was grinning ear to ear, and clutching his new stuffed penguin who was roughly half the size of himself. David was wearing a new hat that was shaped like a shark, tail and all. Patrick couldn't help but feel quite excited and just a little bit tired. He loved aquariums. Fish tended to soothe him but then they looked at otters and penguins and he reacted like a hyper five-year-old.
The penguins just waddled so amusingly.
"Eugh, I ate too much hot dog," Patrick said conversationally. He had had two, and he had practically inhaled them. "Did you like it? The aquarium, not my eating hot dogs."
David had rather enjoyed himself today. He didn't often just go out and spend time on having fun. He always had some purpose, something to do, so it was a nice kind of break to be able to relax for an afternoon.
"Yeah, it was good," he said to Patrick, feeling rather agreeable today. Patrick hadn't looked guilty about anything even once, which made David feel more relaxed because he wasn't thinking that Patrick was looking at the stub where his finger should have been all the time. "I warned you about the hot dogs. They're not real food!"
Patrick chuckled and he clutched his new penguin closer because he was in danger of dropping it. It was slightly obscene in size. "Yes, yes, I should listen to you for you are very wise," Patrick said with a smile. "Thank you for coming with me!"
"I don't know where you think you're going to keep that," David observed, nodding at the immense cuddly toy. "You know you're going to freak the animals out with it. Have you thought it up a name yet?"
"I'll keep him in my room," Patrick said, jokingly defensive. "Hmmm, a name... I don't know! Something cute but not ridiculous. Have you named your hat yet?" Patrick laughed. Usually it was him with the ridiculous hats, but the penguins were just so cute, he hadn't been able to resist.
"Name a hat?" David laughed. "How about I name it Het Siarc Dewi?" Which is Welsh for 'Dewi's shark hat', and pronounced almost the same way. "You'll wake in the night and see the penguin staring at you, you know."
Patrick chuckled at David's amazingly creative hat name and then he yelled "HA!" loudly when David suggested he would have middle-of-the-night penguin fear. Some passersby gave Patrick a strange look and he waved at them. "Possibly, but look at his cute little eyes! He's lovely!"
Patrick's grin faded a little as they walked and he expelled a breath, watching the small cloud of air appear and dissipate in front of his eyes before he spoke again. "I was glad you came with me. I feel like I haven't seen you much." Which was absolutely not David's fault.
"You should come up and see the greenhouse one day. It's been a while since you were last up there." Considering the amount of time David spent in there, the plants he grew were verdant and strong, fruiting out of season. Any soil he ran his fingers through was like a tonic to his plants. It was starting to get to be a little overwhelming in places, but David didn't mind so much. When the snow was gone, he'd make a bigger one.
"I should," Patrick said with a nod. "How's my shamrock doing? I sort of...forgot about it. I'm horrible. Is it like a forest of there now?"
"The shamrock is fine, it's enjoying itself in the flower beds next to the daffodils, English roses, and thistles. Not that I enjoy growing thistles much, but they behave themselves." David didn't consciously realise he personified the things that he grew. "It's not quite a forest. Bryn likes stalking the mice that get in. You're not horrible, Pat, you've had other things going on, that's all."
He certainly did have other things going on.
"I really think I'm making progress," Patrick said quietly. "Which is good because frankly, I needed some."
"Of course you are," agreed David. "That trip has been good for you, taking your mind off things for a week or so. And you're looking for work, which is good too, because it'll give you something to get out of bed for."
Patrick looked sideways at David and he half-laughed before clearing his throat. "Heh. I uhm...yes, I suppose it would-"
For his part, David was innocent of any perceived innuendo. "Well you know, a purpose for your day-to-day life. It's not as grand as your higher purpose, but it'll keep you occupied between times. I'm thinking I'll start helping out with a Sunday School class, what do you think? You'd be good at that too."
"I think you would be marvelous at that, Dewi! And I love working with kids. I go to John's congregation though. What church were you thinking?"
As they strolled, Patrick kept close to his brother, as if slightly worried that too much distance meant David would leave him alone.
David shot a quick glance at Pat at the mention of John. He'd made a deal with himself to keep things neutral with John. He didn't have to like it, but he wasn't going to be antagonistic about it either.
"Well, the Episcopalian one nearest us. One of the helpers is going on maternity leave so I thought I'd step in."
Patrick noticed the glance, but instead of focusing on it, he moved closer to David and, shifting the penguin into one arm, he draped the other around his brother's shoulders. "I think you'll be fantastic at it, Dewi," he said with a grin. "Really fantastic."
"I have done it before, you know, back in Philly," David reminded him, and poked him in the side. "We've had a long time to do everything the church might need us to, in every sense of the word. Hundreds of years! Time just goes by so fast now, don't you think?"
"It really does," Patrick said quietly. "Time seemed to go by so slow when I was alone, and now it just rushes by. I want to eventually go back to working at a shelter, I think I just need...well, time, strangely enough. Time to get my head on straight again. So to speak..."
"Of course you do. It was traumatic. We all have our phases we have to go through. And it gets..." David waved a hand, searching for the right word. "Tiring. It gets tiring, working the same job, day in, day out. We're still human. Well, mostly."
"I think the thing about working in the shelter was that it wasn't the same. Every day it was different and absolutely never boring. Some days I hated it because I had to see the aftermath of horrible things. And there was the time I got stabbed, but...that was okay. I just want to give them my all when I finally go back. And right now, as selfish as it seems, I need to focus on me."
David nodded. Focusing on himself was something that truly never really occurred to him, and he wondered for a moment what it'd be like to be completely selfish for a little while- then shrugged it off with a little laugh. His gardening was something selfish he did to keep himself together, and that was enough.
"Certainly. Work on finding your centre again so you can continue to give. He understands."
"After centuries of ignoring me, I've ended up completely messed up, so...I'll get there," Patrick said, shaking his head. "Hey, Dewi, I keep remembering all these ridiculous things George and I did together when we were all back in the UK. What did you and I do? I don't remember it so much yet, but...well, George talks more than you do."
David paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know, I was a lot more serious back then. About everything. I didn't really do ridiculous things." He really didn't remember much. They'd walked and talked together, about God and immortality and their duty and their plans... but that had been centuries ago, and how do you remember that far back? Perhaps he ought to turn introspective like Patrick had, see where he'd changed.
"I am glad to know everything I did wasn't ridiculous," Patrick said, grinning at his brother. "I guess it doesn't truly matter. We're here now, and this is what matters. I'm so glad you're here, Dewi."
"I'm not going anywhere else, Pat," David said, shaking his head in amusement. Not that Patrick's apparent abandonment issues were funny, just his enthusiasm about everything. "Honestly, I think if it was up to you, you'd chain me to you."
Patrick went white for a second because David had mentioned the word 'chained' and it took him a few moments to calm down. It was a figure of speech and not everyone had been taken from their family. He shouldn't be so touchy. "Heh. No. I'd just cry until you came back," Patrick said with a shaky smile.
David glanced at Patrick. "It worries me when you do that," he said, frowning slightly.
"When I cry, or when I panic about nothing?" Patrick said, self-depreciatingly. "Sorry, it's just the memories coming back to me." Patrick leaned in and he kissed his brother's temple.
"It all happened so long ago, though... It's a worry." David shrugged a shoulder. "I don't remember my childhood any more, yet yours gives you nightmares."
Patrick slowed down and then he finally came to a stop there in the snowy street. "The re-emergence of memories which are so obviously traumatising is bound to mess with me. My childhood includes getting ripped away from my family and forced, sometimes cruelly, to slave away in the cold and the wind and the rain. I was so alone and of course remembering how that felt is going to knock me around a bit, since I had mostly forgotten it for so long. Do you really think this isn't a natural reaction to remembering something so horrible?"
"What? I wasn't judging you! How can you think that of me?" David actually felt hurt at the insinuation. He wasn't the sort to judge or deceive, though he struggled with himself at times, and he genuinely couldn't stand for anyone to think he would. "I only said it worried me. You know me, I always worry. Patrick, please don't think that of me. I love you, I would never. I was just comparing it- the only thing I remember about my childhood is putting my hands over my teacher's eyes and making him be able to see again, because it's part of my story. I don't even remember my mother's face. I barely remember my own half the time-" He was starting to get rather flustered and pink in the cheeks trying to explain himself.
Patrick stepped forward and he placed his hands on David's shoulders, hoping to be reassuring. "No, Dewi..." He stepped forward and he kissed David's forehead underneath his shark hat. "I know. Your worry just made me worry, that is all. If you think it is not a natural reaction, I was thinking of maybe...going to see someone about it. If you think I should.
"I know you're not judging me and anything you say comes from love. I know that absolutely. I never doubt you, Dewi." David lived with him even though Patrick knew, deep down, that David didn't approve of his relationship with John. But he didn't judge it.
"Does it bother you, the not remembering?"
David felt reassured that Patrick didn't think badly of him, and relaxed a bit. "If you were any man, I would say you need help. Nobody needs to go through that alone. And Patrick, after everything you've been through, nobody could blame you for being a little in need of help." He rubbed his hands together, absently rubbing his fingers over his missing digit.
"I don't remember because I don't need to. All those things- they don't matter so much to what I'm doing now. I have centuries of experiences to remember and it doesn't all fit. Other people hold the stories of my life. I can look myself up on Wikipedia if I want to. Everything before America..." He shrugged. "It's condensed into the things I learned from and continue to live by now. That's what's important. I'm here in America for the Cymry Christians who live here and hold onto me. I don't need to remember my mother because there is only the Father to guide me, and my brothers and sisters to walk beside me. So..." he laughed a little, "to answer your question, it doesn't bother me."
Patrick noticed how Dewi was rubbing his hands, but he resisted feeling guilty. It wouldn't help David, or himself. "Alright," Patrick said softly. "I will look into it. I don't want you to worry yourself sick," Patrick said fondly.
Patrick listened quietly and when David finished, he smiled. "You have such peace in you. You sort of radiate it. Come on," Patrick said, starting to walk again because it was cold. "You're really wise, Dewi. I am grateful every day to be able to learn from then things you do and say. And I am glad it doesn't bother you."
"Wise!" David laughed properly that time. "So are you, Pat, if you give yourself the chance to be! I have much to learn from you too. I don't feel at peace very often, but I guess compared to your raging seas, I am a still pond." He walked close beside Patrick, glad the tension was gone. "The only person I really miss from my old days is Justinian. He was my confessor, you know, and if you think Agatha and I are pious, he took it to a whole new level. I don't know where he is now. Do you have a confessor? And Downpatrick doesn't count."
Patrick laughed at the idea of Downpatrick being his confessor. "I haven't for a long time, actually," Patrick said, feeling guilty about it. "For a while I thought myself too far gone to deserve forgiveness, and I was too afraid to confess. I know that's...horrible. Me and my raging seas, we're...we're working up to it," Patrick said quietly. "And thank you for saying I am wise."
"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," David said fondly. "Perhaps a modern day confessor would help? I wonder if George knows anyone good?"
"If he doesn't, someone else will," Patrick said with a nod. "I'll look into it." They were nearing the subway station that would take them home. "I am sorry you miss him. Missing people is hard," he said, thinking sadly of when he had missed his brothers.
"It's okay. I don't think about it often. I have other priorities these days, and so does he." David gave Patrick a smile and felt glad they'd at least had a little time out to be selfish and have each other for a while.