Disclaimer: I don't own these two... fascinating characters. They belong to the wonderful Janet Tamaro and TNT respectively.
Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from, but somehow I ended up writing it instead of working on my other stories. I guess I just needed to see how things worked out for Hope and Paddy, since they seem to have been all but forgotten for the time being. In my little writer mind, I needed to see this happen for them.
The click-clack of expensive Prada heels could be heard echoing down the lifeless hallway of the hospital's prison ward wing. It was the seldom-visited area of Boston General Hospital where local prisons would send emergency cases for treatment outside of their own minimal capabilities. Doctors tended to avoid the hallway like the plague, fearing that any of the prisoners could somehow escape and make them the next victims. It had happened before, in a seldom mentioned incident, with a demented man named Charles Hoyt.
In this case, it contained the room of a certain mobster who couldn't be properly transported to the appropriate facilities until he was better healed from his gunshot wounds.
As the short honey blonde made her way to the occupied room at the end of the hall, she could feel her heartbeat quickening sharply. Anyone watching would have assumed that she simply feared going near the man known for an infamous number of murders, but she actually felt no sense of fear towards the man whatsoever. In fact, she rather figured he ought to fear her in a minute. She wasn't ready for this, but didn't know when another chance would arise. If she wanted to have any sort of relationship with her once-missing family, she needed to do this.
When she reached the door, it was locked tight, with a guard positioned outside. The police were taking no chances with letting this one go. She herself had only heard rumors of who was inside, and until recent news, hadn't put together who the man had to be. This wasn't one of her cases, after all. Seeing the extra security measures, the honey blonde was now positive who the Irish mobster on the other side of the door would be, even without checking his hospital records.
She smiled politely at the guard while getting out her keys, flashing him her hospital badge as a courtesy precaution. This was it. One turn of a key and she would be face to face with the man who had haunted her life for the past thirty-some years.
"Hope," a cracked voice spoke as the honey blonde entered through the door and closed it swiftly behind her without a second thought. She stepped forward, close enough that she could see the man hand-cuffed to the bed, but not enough that she would instantly lose herself in the memories that she was sure even a simple touch from him would surely illicit.
"Patrick," she countered, her own voice smashing his with its intensity.
"It's been a while," Paddy Doyle said, still as calm as ever, despite the apparent rage in her eyes. He was never an easy barrier to break.
"Not long enough," Hope replied coldly. She met his eyes, and unlike those who would easily cower before the crime boss, she matched his hardness and stood taller. She was not afraid of this man in any way, shape, or form. Not after what she'd been through.
"Why are you here?" he asked, cutting the formalities and getting straight to the point. His voice would indicate that he had a time schedule to keep, but she knew that was far from the truth. Paddy was acting more from habit than anything, and he wasn't one to break habit very often.
"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" she asked, laughing a little, despite the mood. "I mean, even then, you always had to get right to it." Hope fingered the chair she now resided beside and sighed, dropping her hand back to her own side and meeting his gaze again. "She found me, you know," Hope finally blurted. "Maura did."
When Paddy said nothing in response, she took a step closer, making sure he saw the firmness in her eyes. She had come with a purpose and had no intention of being ignored by him. "Selfish bastard!" she screamed, definitely getting his attention this time. Her eyes were filling with tears as the mixture of emotions coursed through her body, but she refused to let it stop her.
"Selfish?" Patrick chucked lightly, shaking his head from the quaint hospital bed. "I did what I had to do. You would have both been in danger."
"No!" Hope exclaimed again, this time a bit softer to avoid directing unwanted attention to their room. She heard footsteps walking by and remained silent for a moment, hoping they had passed. It was easy to assume one wouldn't linger anywhere in the prison ward wing. "You don't get to make excuses, Patrick. What you did was…"
"Necessary," he stated blatantly.
"Despicable," Hope finished, ignoring his attempts at getting her to see any other side for the moment. She was closer now; pacing back and forth in front of the bed, just out of his reach. "All these years, you got to know that our daughter was alive. If I know you at all, you've been watching her too, even before she found out who you were." Paddy looked away, guilt tearing at him from the truth behind her words. Hope continued.
"You know what she likes and who she has in her life. All that time, you didn't have to feel this giant sinking feeling that somehow her death was your fault, because you knew all that time that she was perfectly fine with some other family. You got to protect her and watch her grow. But I… I missed out on her entire life. That, Patrick, makes you the epitome of selfish."
"She was safe. You both were," he said, still refusing to consider that he had made a mistake. She noticed, though, that he didn't deny any of her accusations. So he had watched Maura grow.
"I could have kept her safe, Patrick. I should've had a chance." Hope was shaking her head, trying to hold in the tears that were threatening to break free. She couldn't cry yet, though—not until she finished what she had to say.
"I went to her gravestone every single day, until it killed me so much that I had to leave Boston. I spent so much time just running, trying to make up for the giant hole I felt after losing her, that I…" Hope hesitated on bringing Cailin into the conversation. She had come with the intentions of not giving him the knowledge of her other daughter, as if he would somehow take this daughter away from her too. Yet, in a way, he already was.
She cleared her throat and trudged on. "That I endangered Cailin's life, too."
"Your other daughter," Paddy spoke, almost sadly.
Hope chucked, despite herself. It was almost twisted, the way he got into her mind like that. "You've been watching me," she stated, not needing to even ask. Of course he was watching her. "How did you know about her?"
"You're a difficult woman to forget, Hope. Let's just say, I have my ways. You can't blame yourself for what happened to Cailin."
"What, then, should I blame you? After all, your lie is the reason we were even there." Hope knew it was wrong to blame Paddy for what had happened to Cailin; it was no one's fault that she'd contracted a disease and now needed a new kidney. Before, it had seemed like punishment for losing Maura, but now she viewed it more as her penance for missing out on the girl's life.
For the first time since her arrival, Hope could have sworn she detected a hint of shame in Paddy's face at her words, and she felt bad for making such an accusation. She sighed, her voice softening as she spoke, "I know it isn't your fault. It's nobody's fault, what happened to Cailin."
"I know," he said cooly.
Hope sat down at the edge of his bed, no longer caring about looking fierce to get her point out. Now she just needed to say what was threatening to burst out of her at any moment. "I thought the worst moment of my life was when you came in and told me Maura had died. Everything seemed to just close in around me; I couldn't breathe. As it turns out, that wasn't the worst," Hope admitted, twiddling her thumbs as she spoke.
Out of respect for the brilliant woman he had once loved more than life, Paddy remained quiet. He watched her with a stoic face, listening intently to every word the fell from her elegant lips.
"No, the worst was when I found out who Maura was. She didn't mean for it to come out like that, not that there would have been a good way at all, but with everything going on at once… I reacted so poorly. The worst feeling in the world was when I told her that I already have a daughter, and I looked up and saw this look of absolute pain on her face. I've never seen someone look quite so… broken before. What kind of mother puts a look like that on her own child's face? When I thought my baby was dead, at least I felt comfort in the fact that she was resting peacefully. But now… now I've caused her what I can only imagine is an unbearable amount of pain and rejection. What kind of mother rejects her own daughter like that?" Hope was staring into space as she spoke and barely noticed as Paddy took her hand in his own.
The tears were now falling freely, finally breaking through her solidarity as the words she desperately had needed to speak were released.
"I'm sorry," was all Paddy said in response, but coming from him, it spoke volumes. Hope allowed the silent tears to escape while the man ran a ragged hand up and down her arm in attempted comfort, but she would not let him get any closer. He was the first and last person she wanted comfort from, and that was confusing enough in itself to keep her away.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you," Hope whispered. Paddy had to strain his aged ears to hear, but even without hearing the words, he would have felt them from her cold stance she had suddenly adapted.
"I know. I didn't ask you to," he said simply—emotionless, or just seemingly so in his hardened state of mind.
"I know." Hope sighed.
"But I'd still do the same thing over again," Paddy stated firmly.
At this declaration, Hope's head shot up and her gaze locked on his face, anger pouring out of her. "After hearing everything I've come to say, after seeing how tortured I was without her, you still would do that? I knew you had evil in you Patrick, but I didn't take you for a monster." Her words were cold, but they were nothing compared to the glare she shot him as she stood from the bed. It suddenly made the ice picks he'd become infamous for seem like a cruel twist of metaphoric irony. He stayed silent, and Hope assumed he had nothing else to say, no more ways to hurt her as she headed to the door.
Just as her hand reached the doorknob, he broke his silence from behind. "Maura got to live a life without any life-threatening fear. Well, at least until she chose a career path, but I suppose that was inevitable." Paddy chucked lightly, his twisted sense of humor finding its bearings in his words. "You couldn't have protected her, Hope, not from the people who would have wanted her dead to get to me. You're a smart woman, brilliant even, but my world has never been right for you or her. What I did was the right thing."
Hope turned to face him, the tears staining her cheeks once more, but she did not move away from the door. "I know you believe that," she said, just loudly enough for him to hear, before she faced the other direction once more and reached for the knob. That was as close to acceptance as he knew he'd ever earn from the honey blonde love of his life.
"Why did you come here?" he asked suddenly, delaying her exit, yet again.
"What?" Hope asked, this time stepping just slightly closer when she turned back to face him.
"This can't have been easy for you. Why are you here?" Patrick asked again. There was no demanding tone in his voice, she realized, just innocent inquisition. Knowing she'd never be able to return to her work given her current state, Hope sighed and decided to humor him for a moment.
"I wanted to know why you did it."
"No," he said, shaking his head in defiance. "You didn't need me to tell you that, Hope. You already knew. What's the real reason you came here?"
Hope glared at him, partly angered that he had seen through her so easily, and partly not believing his words. She'd told herself all along that her reason for visiting was to ask about Maura, but it seemed she perhaps had had additional underlying reasoning. Damn it, Hope.
"I don't know what you mean," she lied, but he saw right through the façade, and she sighed in defeat. "I guess part of me had to see you for myself," Hope admitted.
Paddy smiled, despite himself. It was one of the smiles he'd always reserved just for her, and she hated him for it. It was that smile that had melted her, had made her vulnerable… had led to conceiving Maura. She found it funny how one smile could cause someone a world of pain and joy all at once.
"How did you end up here, anyways?" she asked hesitantly. Sure, being a doctor at the hospital, Hope had heard rumors of how the mob boss got taken down. Somehow, though, she figured the only way she'd get the true story was from the man himself. Who would have guessed that a hospital could be so filled with gossip?
Patrick laughed, lifting his free hand as far as the cuff would allow to wave her closer. Hope obliged and returned to her seat at the edge of his bed.
"It was that damn Rizzoli." He shook his head. Hope's eyes widened, wondering how Jane's path had ever crossed with the man in such a violent nature. Sensing her need for him to elaborate, Paddy went on. "There was a man who was after Maura. Those cops… they decided to use her as bait. Being my daughter, of course Maura was all for it. Well, I didn't trust the whole thing, so I showed up. Long story made short, Rizzoli's shit FED boy showed and blew the entire sting. I shot at him and she shot me."
"You never will learn not to play with those firearms, will you?" Hope chuckled, finally breaking through her cold haze. "I'm surprised Maura forgave Jane so easily, though," she said thoughtfully.
Paddy avoided her gaze hesitantly. "Well, I may have had something to do with that." He cleared his throat. "Let's just say, her possibly hating me is worth it if she has that woman around to protect her. The looks they give each other—I've never seen anyone love Maura the way Jane does," he admitted.
"I've seen it too," Hope spoke, almost distantly. "When I first met them, I was absolutely convinced they had to be together. Jane introduced Maura to me as if she was the most pure woman in the world. When Maura tried to tell me they were just friends, it took everything in me not to burst out laughing. It's only a matter of time before those two realize it, or we may need to take further action." Patrick nodded in agreement.
A shrill beeping sound brought them out of there reverie, and Hope looked down to see her pager was going off with a 911. With all their talking, it amazed her how easily she'd fallen back into a pattern of contentment with him. She sighed heavily, looking into those dark eyes once more. "Well, it looks like I'm needed elsewhere." Hope stood and headed to the door, turning around one last time before she reached for the knob.
"It was nice to see you again, Patrick. Take care of yourself," she said formally, but he knew those words went much deeper coming from her.
"Be good to Maura," he said firmly, this time making sure his voice inflicted that he was serious. "You have a chance to make things right with her now, Hope."
She hesitated on the doorknob, as if waiting for him to stop her once more. When no such objection came, she felt resigned to return back to her life, where Patrick Doyle was just a notch on the headboard. With those final words spoken to linger in her head, the honey blonde finally opened the door and, with a heavy heart, left the man she'd once loved behind for the last time.