A/N: I know the title looks a LOT like another story I've written ("Happy birthday, Jane"), and essentially, the same things happen, but then just... differently. You understand what I mean? This one is Angstier, I suppose.
It took me a ONE AND A HALF WEEK to write this. 366 words, people. Just to show you how much of a writer's block I'm suffering from.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
'Happy Father's Day, Patrick'
He hated Father's Day. No Father's Day without his beloved daughter. He wasn't a daddy anymore, and he would never be one ever again.
Rigsby had come into work with a big grin, even though it was a Sunday and he usually despised working on Sundays. Turned out that Ben had, together with his nanny, created a perfect morning, with breakfast and a drawing and a lot of hugs and kisses.
God, how much Jane hated Father's Day.
He looked out over the busy Sacramento traffic. The world didn't stop turning. The world didn't care about his pain. The world hadn't cared for ten years.
Someone knocked at the door - he knew the identity of the person instantly without checking. He sometimes wondered whether she was the only person who knew where his attic was located, but he knew that wasn't true. Everybody knew about it, but she was the only one who actually visited him here - periodically, even.
"Jane."
He sighed and got up. He didn't want to let her in. He knew what she tasted like now, what she felt like underneath him, writhing because of pleasure building up in her body.
He trusted her - he didn't trust himself. He just could never get enough of her.
He opened the door. He saw a mixture of happiness and sympathy in her eyes.
She approached him and tip-toed, kissing the corner of his mouth.=0D=0A"I think it's best if you leave, Teresa."
"No," she said. "I won't leave."
"Teresa, it's Father's Day, I just want to be alone-"
She put a finger against hips lips, and lifted her other hand. He saw a small, black box.
He looked at her, a frown on his face.
"Open it," she whispered gently. And he did.
And when he saw what was inside, he collapsed to the floor. She followed him, wrapping her arms tightly around his already shaking frame.
He cried in her shoulder, and she consoled him, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Happy Father's Day, Patrick," she whispered, and he heard she was also emotional. "You're going to be a daddy."
And he cried with happiness and gratitude, grateful for this second chance.
A/N: So, let me know, what did I do wrong this time? Nope, lol, let me know anyway!