Chapter 110
Alone in this place with a lifetime to trace
"ASSHOLE!" Patrick hissed.
Shaken from memories, Noah jumped from his chair. "It...it wasn't opened" he told him quickly, approaching his distressed son. "I'm sorry Patrick - I....found the bottle as I was cleaning up in the basement. It wasn't opened."
"ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" he yelled, moving away from his father. Backing in to a chair behind him, he curled his fingers around the arm of it and hurled it across the kitchen with all his strength. Tears of anger streamed down his face.
In that moment he had seen him staring at the bottle, years of memories engulfed him. All the pain and the anger and the betrayal roared to the surface and he was blind with rage. His father had failed him in the past, had failed himself and most offensively had failed the memory of his wife and the idea that he was travelling back down this path was outrageous.
"Patty please listen to me" Noah said, getting closer to him. He put a hand on his shoulder, wincing at the force his son used to push it away.
"NO!" he shouted, kicking at the shards of glass as he bounded angrily around the kitchen. Picking up a bowl he sent it sailing to the floor glaring at his father as he did so.
"I didn't have a drink!" Noah protested in vain. "I...I was tempted but I didn't drink! Please - Patty you need to calm down."
He trembled with fury as the smell of Bourbon wafted through the kitchen invading his nostrils with its sharp bitter scent. It smelled like 100 different nights - of times he pulled his father out of a bar, or found him passed out on the couch. It smelled like the past coming back to haunt him. It smelled like his family falling apart all over again. He stumbled out of his father's reach once again and picking up one of the boxes on the table, hurled it at him. Papers floated to the ground, unfolding as they fell.
"Patty, please" he begged, his hazel eyes filling with tears.
He had found the bottle, just as he said, and brought it up to the kitchen to throw it out but the minute he sat it down on the table he could feel it calling to him. He didn't want to give into it, he didn't want to be weak but he had been afraid to touch it again; afraid that he would open it and guzzle it down.
"HATE!" Patrick yelled.
"What the hell is going on?" Robin asked surveying the chaos in the kitchen.
Both men turned to the entrance and stared at her. She had pulled her long hair into a low ponytail and she wiped the sleep from her eyes as she came through the door. The papers, broken glass and overturned chair all lay in shambles on the ceramic floor. Noah looked as though he had been shadow boxing with a ghost and lost. Patrick looked as though he was ready to jump out of his skin. He was pacing like a caged animal and as she moved towards him, he held up his hand and gave her a warning look.
"I wasn't going to drink it" Noah said to Robin, "I was just waiting until I was strong enough to throw it out."
"It's okay Noah" she reassured him softly.
"LIAR!" Patrick brought his fist down on the marble counter and glared furiously at his father.
"Patrick" he pleaded once again. "I love you. You have to believe m-"
Patrick grabbed him by the front of his shirt and demonstrating suprising strength, shoved him against the wall. "Shut up!" he demanded. "Shut up!" His fist was raised, poised to be unleashed. Noah's hands were in front of his face braced for what was to come.
As memories of that awful morning in Kelly's flashed in her head Robin sprinted to the far side of the kitchen and tried to pull Patrick's arms away from his father. "Patrick don't do this. Let him go!" Her voice was steady but authoritative. "Don't do this - not again."
Her words rang in his ears and he reluctantly dropped his hand, turning towards her. "A-g-gain?" he asked in confusion.
"Just step back, okay?" she asked kindly, her hands still wrapped around his arms. "Just let go."
His head pounded and there were silver dots appearing before his eyes. Clenching his eyes shut, he shook his head trying to clear it all away. Opening his eyes he looked from his father to Robin and back again. He let go of Noah's shirt and shuffled back several steps, letting him go.
"I am so sorry" Noah offered once again.
Reaching out with her hand, she gave Noah's arm a small squeeze. "Noah, I think....why don't you...." She paused, unsure how to order her boyfriend's father to get out of the kitchen.
"I'm going upstairs" he whispered, his eyes filled past the brim with tears.
Her heart ached as she watched him leave. She had seen addiction first hand and knew the struggle was an every day thing. She also knew, perhaps in way that Patrick currently did not, that Noah's sobriety meant everything to him. He had said over and over again that he was going to be by his son's side through all of it and in order to do that he had to stay sober.
Patrick slumped against the kitchen table, cradling his head in his hands. He wanted to run. It didn't matter to where just so long as it was as far from here as he could get.
"Patrick" Robin called gently to him. "Patrick talk to me."
Lifting his head, he glowered at her. Even if he could talk about it, he didn't want to. He didn't want to rehash it - he wanted to get away and forget about all of it.
"I'm sorry" she apologized, realizing what she had said.
She cupped his cheek and looked at him in shock as he pulled away from her. She really shouldn't have been surprised, this was Patrick's way. When he was sad or angry or hurt he wanted to hide; he hated people seeing his vulnerability or knowing just how upset something made him. He had been so open since his surgery that she had almost forgotten about this part of his personality but it had come roaring back.
Undeterred, she smiled softly at him. "You're not alone in this," she told him.
Shaking his head, he rose to his feet and kicked at the papers still strewn so haphazardly on the floor. He didn't want to be touched or comforted, he just wanted to be left alone.
Inhaling sharply, Robin ducked out of the kitchen and padded quickly down the hall to the bedroom. She returned a minute later with the dry erase board and a marker in her hand. "Tell me how you're feeling" she encouraged as she passed the board to him.
He rolled his eyes and scribbled quickly. I don't want to talk about it. Just drop it, would you?
"I'm not dropping it. Patrick - you can't let this bottle up inside you."
Why not? Everything else is. I have volumes of conversation stuck in my head with no way to get out. Why should this be different?
She swallowed a groan not having fully appreciated, until that moment, some of the affects the aphasia on him. "Patrick" she sighed softly, "I know this is hard - I know - but you have to trust me. We can get through this and you and your dad will make it up."
Stop trying to fix what isn't yours to fix. He wrote his warning clear.
Her memories of the last time she tried to help heal the breach between father and son were very clear but they had come so far since then and there was so much more at stake this time. "I'm not trying to fix this" she clarified, "but I think you'll feel better if you talk about it. Your dad is struggling Patrick - this has been really hard on him but you can't give up on him - not yet."
His brown eyes blazed furiously. If he were calmer, if he could see things clearly then he would have known she was right. But that simply wasn't possible, there was no way to break through the noise in his head.
If you like him so much, let him be your father. I'm done.
"That's not what I meant" she said quietly, crossing the room towards him. "I just think if the two of you can talk about it-"
The words died on her lips as, lifting his knee, he broke the dry erase board across it and let it drop to the floor. Brushing past her, he grabbed the winter coat hanging on the back of the door and slipped it on. Pushing open the door, he stepped out into the cool night air.
"Patrick! Where are you going?" Panic was begining to sweep through her and as worried as she was for his emotional health, she was more worried for his physical health and didn't want him doing anything to undo all the progress that had been made.
"Out" he said looking at her over his shoulder before disappearing quickly into the darkness.
Robin stared after him before tiredly rubbing her hands over her face. Just when she thought they had turned a corner she discovered it was a u-turn.