The whole story of why Fiona was currently sedated in a hospital room - pregnancy news, included - was spilled to Eloise Bickerton in a tired spiel of words that may or may not have been English, much less coherent. He couldn't really say with any amount of certainty that she understood him and he only knew she was actually listening because of her occasional monosyllabic responses. It's a lengthy, drawn out explanation and by the time he'd finished, he'd been more than ready to hang up the phone. Instead, he waited. And, not that he's not impatient when he's not tired, but the waiting really wore on him.

"I am on my way." Eloise responded curtly.

The phone clicked and he raised his eyebrows, dropping his phone back onto the receiver. "O-kay."

He knew that was probably one hurricane he wasn't prepared to deal with but with lucidity steadily slipping away from him, he had other problems to deal with. Eloise wasn't that much of a worry to him anymore, although the fact that Fiona hadn't told her about the pregnancy concerned him and would be brought up with Fiona when she had recovered. Okay. No. Shake it off, Arlette. Now was not the time to be thinking of his next conversation with Fiona.

Shower. Shave. Eat.

In that order, preferrably. And so, he trudged to the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt, and shrugging it off with a pained wince as he did. The hot shower soothed his frayed nerves and pulled the tension out of his muscles. He lathered his hair and scrubbed his skin almost raw before rinsing off and stepping out of the shower. He functioned on auto-pilot, drying off, and getting dressed. That was the only way he managed to get a clean pair of jeans and a clean robin's egg blue t-shirt from his closet and put them on.

His mind was not present at the moment.

And that became all too clear when he cut himself three times shaving and with the realization that he hadn't used shaving cream. Damn it. Focus, Eddie. He couldn't help it though. The past few hours played in his mind like a record on loop - Fiona panicking, the doctor sedating her, him going ape on the doctor, and her doctor telling him to go home. Nothing stood out to him quite like Fiona's panic attack. She had, had her fair share of panic attacks but he had never witnessed any as bad as her latest one had been.

The fear.

God, it shook him.

He had never, ever seen someone look so utterly terrified. Not like she had been. Nothing would ever come close to the terror on her face.

His trip down memory lane, or maybe it was nightmare avenue, was interrupted by a series of rapid knocks on the door. He grumbled his way to the door and pulled it open to see his partner and best friend standing there, still in his suit from a day at Scotland Yard, tears in his eyes and a jacket hanging loosely on his arms. Eddie just laughed and grabbed his friend's shirt collar pulling him into the house. Pippin followed him into the kitchen like an obedient puppy, where he grabbed the makings for fresh coffee.

"How'd you hear?" Eddie rasped, scooping coffee grounds into a filter.

"One of the other inspectors was there with his daughter when he saw you come in with Fiona." Pippin explained quietly, "I tried to call you but I guess your phone was off."

Eddie blinked heavily, turning to face his friend, the coffee filter dropping to the ground. There was no hiding the pain or exhaustion. It pulled on every fiber of his being; dragging him down to the point of barely realizing that the tears were once again flooding his face. "She had a panic attack."

"Here?" Pippin inquired gently.

"No." Eddie shook his head, slumping his shoulders forward and scrubbing his face. "At a flat, we were looking at. We were...thinking about buying it."

His shaky breaths rattled in his chest and his voice scratched his throat. He couldn't do this. Not now. He couldn't handle telling it and reliving it. If he had to tell it, if he was forced to go down that road again, he'd never make it. He'd break down and he didn't want to do that, not in front of Pippin. It was difficult enough keeping the tears and the pain at bay when he was alone. Talking about it made it real and he just couldn't do reality right now.

But, reality was a relentless bastard, and it just kept stabbing him in the chest.

"Eddie?"

"Damn it, Pippin! Don't!" Eddie growled at his friend, his hands clenching repeatedly at his sides. "Please, just don't."

"Eddie, you're my best friend. We're partners. We're there for each other. Always." Pippin reminded him firmly. "Don't be a bloody idiot and bail out on that now."

"I can't handle it, Pippin!" Eddie yelled at him. "I can't handle talking to you just like I couldn't handle talking to the damn doctors! I don't want to talk about it! Just leave me alone!"

Okay. Well, that wasn't supposed to go in that direction. Then again, it wasn't supposed to go in that direction with the doctor either but that hadn't ended pleasantly. Although Pippin had known him long enough to know that he didn't mean it, Eddie still regretted ever yelling at his friend. That was no way to treat his best friend and he knew it. He had to swallow his pride and apologize now. That wouldn't be easy, but he had to do it. He had to make sure Pippin understood that he was just upset.

"Well," Pippin brushed off his outburst with a laugh. "That wasn't what I was hoping for but I hope it made you feel better, at least."

Eddie just hung his head, breathing heavily. The anger ebbed away, washed out by a bleak sadness that brought about a fresh wave of tears. Pippin just watched, giving his friend a moment to compose himself. Eddie didn't have the best reputation for handling stress that well - or at all, really - but Fiona and his relationship with her seemed to give him the outlet he needed. There were times though, when Fiona couldn't help him, and he tended to let his temper get the best of him.

"Eddie? You alright, mate?"

"I'm sorry." Eddie whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

"That's alright."

Eddie barely registered Pippin grabbing his shoulders and guiding him to the nearest kitchen chair. The inspector cleaned up the coffee grounds that Eddie had dropped and tossed them, before grabbing the can, a fresh filter, and putting a fresh pot to brew. When the rich scent of coffee filled the kitchen and two mugs had been filled with the dark liquid, Pippin sat down to counsel his friend. While he wasn't technically a counselor, he was a best friend, and he played his role well.

"Okay, what happened?" Pippin sat the mug down in front of Eddie with an emphatic click of porcelain on hardwood. "What's going on?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Eddie pulled the mug closer to him, taking a sip of the strong, black coffee.

Pippin shrugged, sitting down with his own mug. "Well, the beginning is usually a good place."

He hadn't planned on it but his mouth opened and the words poured. The entire story, starting from the time him and Fiona left to look at the flat, and how she had been nervous about it the entire time to the anxiety attack that had landed her in the hospital and what the doctor had told him. Pippin just listened with rapt attention, knowing that all his friend needed was someone he could talk to. The coffee went cold, Eddie's own anxiety ebbed away, and he found himself telling Pippin about coming home to Fiona singing to her stomach and whatever else kept his mind off of Fiona's current predicament.

But, it didn't matter how much he talked, nothing would change.

Last update for a while. I don't really like it and I might re-write it while I'm gone, but I wanted to give you something before I leave so here it is. Don't feel like rambling like I usually do so just leave me some love, Dolls!

Love,

RobertDowneyJrLove