I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.

I doubt Ryan Murphy would even recognize it now.

Wherever You Are

Sideswiped


It was crazy.

"What about my job?!"

It was insane.

"What about your job?!"

It was completely ridiculous.

"I mean, they're our only means of income, Patrick!"

And once he saw that-

"We'd have no way to live without them if we just got up and left!"

. . . the better.

Quiet second, Patrick Pause.

Yeah, you just sit there and think about how stupid this idea of yours is-

"There are other jobs, Annabel. Other factories. Other radio stations."

What?! How can you say something like that?! How could you even think it?!

"I know Brandon is small, but Tampa's bigger and just down the road. It's not the most impossible thing."

And there it was.

Patrick just believed.

He believed in this baby.

He believed in them.

He believed in her.

And her ability to deal with this fucking, stupid idea and its impact upon her life, her very exist-

"All that matters is that we're together and safe and okay, right?"

Oh god.

Oh dear god.

And then she went and threw up.

Or thought she would.

Launched herself up off the couch, Scruffy Sam leaping down from Patrick's lap.

Scissoring nervelessly to the bathroom, nearly trampling the alarmed, now floor-level pooch in her wake, slamming the door, staggering to the toilet, crumpling to her knees, aiming for the water-

And . . . nothing.

Gasping for air, teeth gritted in anticipation.

Eyes squeezed shut.

Until she opened them.

Shit.

Well, not literally.

They weren't Neanderthals.

Shit.

But psychologically.

Because she . . .

Florida.

. . . just didn't know . . .

Again.

. . . just what to do.

Shit.


She sat back on the floor then, back against the wall.

Staring six hundred thousand miles past the green toliet tank.

"Annabel?"

Patrick's mild, low-toned, calm as always voice, carefully controlled concern, respectfully distant hovering pauses-

"Are you okay?"

-was something she could not stomach, could not placate-

"Are you alright?"

-not even though the bathroom door-

"Are you okay?"

-and so she did not answer him-

"Annabel?"

-and he eventually left her alone.

On the bathroom floor

To think.

Which was exactly what she did.

Sat there and thought.

Thought about herself.

Thought about the baby.

Thought about Patrick.

Oh dear god, Patrick.

Patrick who'd never had a family.

Patrick who'd never had a support system.

Patrick who'd always been alone.

Patrick who-


When she opened the bathroom door, she saw he had resumed the spot she had left him in.

Sitting on the couch.

The dog . . .

God, where are we going to live, I don't even know where to start-

. . . back on his lap.

Both of them slightly wary at her approach.

And she sat back down, much calmer this time.

Patrick looked at her and she could tell he was nervous.

But still maintaining all the same.

And she decided to just say it.

"You just want better for your child, don't you? Better than what you had."

He nodded as he spoke.

"Yes."

She continued.

"And you want your child to have parents and grandparents. Everybody close and taking care of each other and loving each other and not alone."

Patrick Pause.

"Yes."

"You'll do whatever I say because you love me but this is what you really want, isn't it?"

"Yes."

And Annabel sat there.

And thought.

And decided . . .

God, I'm glad I love you so much.

. . . to try and believe.

"Okay."

Patrick's eyes raised to hers, tentatively.

She couldn't really summon a smile of any kind, not yet.

But she did manage to suck in a deep breath.

Release an accidently audible sigh.

And speak.

"I gotta call my parents."

And Patrick smiled.

Just a little.

"Thank you, Annabel."

She didn't look at him.

She couldn't.

"Yeah."

Not yet.


Ring!

Oh Sister, you get it, I don't feel like talking to anyone right now.

Alright.

"Hello, Walker residence?"

"Hey, Ma-Ba."

"Annabel, hello!"

It's Annabel?! Switch to the other side! Let me hear!

I thought you didn't want to talk to anybody tod-

Just do it.

". . . -thing."

"Of course, darling."

"What is it?"


Oh, Dot!

I know!

Our baby's coming home!

Yes!

To stay!

Yes!

And she's bringing her baby!

Yes!

Oh, Sister!

Yes!

We have to tell Jimmy.


"Jimmy!"

The store.

Again.

"Hey, girls, what are you doing here?"

Their lined faces were once again radiant with joy.

"We have something to tell you!"

And immediately his brow furrowed.

"Wait, she's already . . . she . . . she can't be again, can she? Is that . . . even . . . poss-"

"She's coming home, Jimmy!" Bette crowed.

And his face, albeit not as much as theirs, lit up.

"Oh hey, that's great! I've been wanting to see them again."

"No!" Dot interrupted ecstatically. "She's coming home to live! To stay!"

Only a split second of a pause.

And Daddy Jimmy's enthusiasm mirrored their own.

"Hey, that's fantastic!"

And he came around the counter to them, wrapping them up in his arms in a big hook-handed bear hug -

"Our little girl's coming home!"

"We know!"

-that made them squeal in delight.


- the baseboards!

Don't forget the taps! We have to descale them!

And we have to dust the refrigerator coils!

Oh and-

"What are you girls doing?"

"We're cleaning!"

"But it's two in the morning."

"We have to get ready for Annabel and Patrick!"

"But . . . they're not going to be here for another two we-"

"Jimmy, where's the WD-40? The door under the sink is so squeaky!"

"Uhhh . . ."


So lots of drama and emotions all around, huh?

Lots here too. Thank goodness I sent all my hyper students home and made it to summer break. *collapses under couch, twitching*

How are you all?

Thanks to my loyal reviewers (who guessed this new development; too predictable?) brigid1318 and midnightrebellion86 for still reviewing. :)