Disclaimer: They are not mine. Do not sue me.
Authors Note: Thank you for your time and attention.
Saving Me
Pam Marks
IHeavens gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm falling
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin'
"Saving Me" - Nickelback/I
I"I've always wanted to be surgeon but the boards always over looked me. Do you know why?" Holding out in shaking hands the man smiled at Patrick with an evil glint in his eyes before continuing "So I went into business but business is so boring. You make money you spend money. It's all the same but a surgeon holds life in his hands. He touches it." Placing his hands on the top of Patrick's leg he made the other man jump a little and shake his head in disbelief that the man who had saved him the night before was now going to probably kill him.
"Please just let me go." Eyes lighting up the man nodded the evil glint growing.
"You want to go? Is that what you want?" Not answering as he recognized the evil lining in the man's voice he let out a small whimper when the man moved behind him.
Letting out a loud howl of anguish Patrick felt burning pain slice through every nerve in his body making him jerk at his restraints repeatedly as he screamed seconds before another burning pain shot through him making tears shoot down his face. Slumping over in the chair when the pain subsided to a fierce ache he felt his hand restraints give along with his ankle restraints. Hearing the old door open with a cry of protest he managed a look at it before letting his head fall back to his chest weakly "You are free to go."
Looking up slowly pain hazing his vision he looked to his torturer with a non trusting expression on his pale face. Every breath making him feel as though his chest was going to rip open from the excruciating pain of the eight holes drilled into him along with whatever the man had done to his feet he watched as the man disappeared into a small alcove whistling psychotically. Shaking his head a little he knew it was then or never. Standing he let out blood curdling howl when his feet went forward without a step making him fall to the floor flat on his stomach unbelievable pain shooting through his veins like wild fire. Letting out a couple of sobs he looked up and saw the open door only a few yards away. Shaking his head he began to low crawl for it using his elbows more than his feet wanting to crawl through it more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. If he could just make it through the door everything would be alright.
Almost there he was stopped by two boots who stepped in his way. Eyes traveling up to meet the demented ones of his torturer he knew in that moment that he was doomed. Beginning to sob his heart pounded in his chest as looked down to the course cement that was the floor. Hearing the boots move he didn't pay attention until he head was jerked up from behind by his hair sending shock waves of pain through his body, making him cry out as he was jerked up off the floor halfway. His tormentor's free arm wrapped around his neck snuggly and kept his attention on the shreds of dirty glass in front of him. Patrick wanted to take his eyes away from the dingy mirror that showed his pale bloodied appearance but was held still by the grip the man had on his hair.
"Please. I have money. I'll pay you. Please." Shutting his eyes for a brief second Patrick thought of his mother who was probably by their pool basking in the warm glow of the Beverly Hills sun right then as there maid served her mixed drinks not knowing that her only son's life was about to be cut short. Would she even care? Would she even be relieved that someone else was pulling the trigger for her? Not once had she called him since he had been gone but this was not a huge surprise seeing as though she always had something more important to do or someone more important to talk to. His foggy brain next cut to his dad who was probably on some random business trip to Tokyo, New York, or any points in between who had probably had the thought to call his wayward son but had let him slip through the cracks busy with all his meetings and important agenda. Neglected and abandoned by them both as was the way it had been his entire life.
Low chuckling from behind him made him slip his pleading eyes open once more to see the amused eyes of his tormentor reflected back to him in the fragments of glass "Oh my dear boy no one if paying me. I'm paying them." He felt the man's knee press into his back firmly moments before his hair was jerked up ruthlessly making fresh waves of pain shoot through his being. Feeling as though his back was going to snap and his hair was going to be ripped out he watched with wide terror filled eyes as the man brought the bloodied scalpel to one side of his neck. Letting out a scream of absolute terror it seemed to echo off the walls of his cell as the man chuckled ruthlessly behind him./I
Shooting straight up on his comfortable bed in the quant bed and breakfast he ran Patrick let out a blood curdling howl that was much like the last one he had sounded off in his dream. Eyes shooting around his room for his tormentor with a fevered panic he let himself relax a tad when the images of the demented man receded to the edges of his mind once more leaving him with memories of the past week fresh in his mind. Shaking his head he rubbed his temples soothingly as small gasping sobs escaped him "The lightning really fucked me up." Talking to no one but himself he tossed the covers of the bed back and immediately brushed his trembling fingers across the light scars on the back of his heels "Just a fishing accident Patrick and nothing more. You are Patrick Bachelor and your mom is Celia Bachelor. Your dad is Buzz Washington and you had another dad that died in a plane crash twenty something years ago. You run this bed and breakfast and you work at the radio station. You've never been out of Elmo except to New York with Annie and you never want to go anywhere either. You have not been to Europe and you attended college at the local community college where you got you associate in broadcasting. You never attended UCLA or stepped foot on the campus. You've never even been to LA and your parents are not rich and do not live in Beverly Hills."
Reciting the facts he had been told over the last few days he gently rocked himself back and forth cradling his knees to his chest. Unable to wipe the horrible images from his mind fully he shut his eyes and began to rock himself harder "You whore. You bitch!" Hands traveling to grip fist fulls of his hair Patrick shook his head as the horror stricken voice sliced through his mind "No get off me! Get off me!" Eyes snapping open with a start at the terror filled shouts fresh tears began to streak down his pale cheeks "Pax." Voice coming out as a meek whimper Patrick let out a tortured sob before he unwrapped his hands from his hair.
Placing his shaking feet on the hard wood of the floor he stood before easing out of the room. Tip toeing down the darkened hall gradually he tried not to wake any of the patrons that were sleeping in the rooms that lined the hall as he made his way down the stairs to the lower level. Slipping in the small sitting room he curled up on the end cushion of the small sofa before placing his trembling hand on the receiver of the old timey phone that sat on the wooden end table beside the couch. Picking it up he managed to dial the number he seemed to know by heart as he had done every night since waking in the hospital after the accident on his wedding day and waited through the rings hearing his heart beat frantically in his chest "Hello."
Shutting his eyes Patrick looked to his lap when the deep croaked voice met his ears his grip tightening on the receiver as he calmed somewhat from hearing it "Hello? Is anyone there? Look it's four in the morning and you've called every night for the last two weeks whoever you are so if you have something you want to say then say it or don't call here again. Got it?"
Tear tracing its way down his gaunt cheek he bit his shivering bottom lip the nightmare still fresh in his mind as his anguished voice escaped from his throat as if it had a mind of its own "Pax."
"Josh?!" Shaking his head violently Patrick slammed the receiver down as Pax called for him to answer him frantically. Covering his eyes with the palms of his hands choked sobs began to escape his trembling form.
"No. I'm not Josh. I'm not. I'm Patrick. Annie and Celia I mean mom can't be wrong about who I am. I just need to try harder to be Patrick for them," Rocking himself once more he tried desperately to keep Pax's risen disbelieving yet desperately hopeful voice from slicing through his mind.
"You have to do what is right for you." An agony filled sob escaped his trembling form at the wise words spoken by the man that haunted his dreams that hit him like a ton of bricks in the dark living space he was currently occupying. Shaking his head violently he removed his palms from his eyes to wrap his long arms around his stomach giving himself some of the comfort he so desperately needed. Not being able to conceal the sobs that echoed around the room he curled up in a ball on the not so comfortable cushion his heart and mind fighting a war for dominance.