Prompt 17: "Sometimes, I really don't like you."
Summary: Set after the maternity home fire, Patrick and Shelagh both have to deal with decisions.
A/N: I'M BACK! I'm so excited to be back in turnadette land. I'm a little knackered from opening weekend, but I'm so happy to be writing again. We've had a slew of fluff, so now we're headed back into dramatic territory.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Patrick was quiet at dinner that night and would barely meet her eyes. She could feel him watching her, but every time she tried to meet his gaze, he suddenly found his food particularly interesting. Tim wouldn't be home from Jack's until tomorrow morning and Angela wasn't exactly an expert conversationalist at one and half, so that left the unsettled couple in silence.
She couldn't figure out what was wrong. At first, she thought he was simply upset about the maternity home, but that was understandable and she was just as worried about the same thing, so there was no reason for him to act strangely around her because of that. In fact, she was surprised he hadn't talked to her about it seeing as she was the only person who might fully understand how he felt about the place they both poured so much love and work into. It would be fully repaired in time and it could have been far worse, but she knew they both felt the weight of the damage and the fear of their patients.
When she looked up at him again, he promptly looked down at his plate and, upon discovering it was empty, began tracing patterns in the leftover sauce with his fork.
"Patrick, is something wrong?" she asked somewhat hesitantly.
He completely ignored her and she felt sparks of frustration push against her concern.
"If you're upset about the maternity home-"
"I'm fine, Shelagh. I don't want to talk about it." He cut her off dismissively.
The words might have deterred her had his tone not stung. She was trying to be better at giving him time to be ready to talk with her about the hard things and she'd come a long way, but her stubbornness and spite were frequently stronger than her judgement.
"You're clearly not 'fine', dear-"
"I said I don't want to talk about it, Shelagh." he snapped as he shot up from the table and headed for his coat.
"Patrick Turner, where do you think you're going?" she cried, appalled at his behavior.
"Out." he nearly spit.
It wasn't until then that she realized in all his anger, he was still refusing to look at her.
"Patrick stop!" she shouted. "Why won't you look at me?"
"Because sometimes, I really don't like you!" he yelled before he could stop himself. His fury at her for her incessant prodding, for her pride, and most of all for the fact that she stayed in a burning building and could've thrown her life away melted at the utter heartbreak in her eyes. "Shelagh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Go, Patrick." she whispered. "I won't stop you."
He opened his mouth to say anything. To try and fix this, but he couldn't. He grabbed his coat and slammed the door on the way out.
Shelagh wanted to fall to the floor and sob and scream, but the banging door and her parents' shouting had woken Angela and Shelagh had another's fear to attend to before her own. Just as it had always been.
"I'm sorry, little one." Shelagh soothed as she picked up her wailing daughter. "I'm so sorry." She couldn't stop herself from crying along with Angela. She and Patrick had come so far since their first big fight over Northfield and she knew they weren't perfect, but she never thought that he didn't love her anymore. She couldn't stand up anymore. She carried Angela to their bedroom and curled up around her on the bed she wasn't sure Patrick would come back to that night. The two girls cried themselves to sleep.
Patrick didn't come home until very late.
The flat was exactly as he'd left it, which meant Shelagh couldn't bring herself to wash up after dinner. He knew it was bad. Untidiness was one of the few things his wife could not abide under any circumstances.
He slowly pushed open the door to their bedroom, half hoping she'd left with Angela and half praying she was still there. The light from the hall slowly illuminated the bed and he felt relief spread through his body at the sight of his girls. Both were sound asleep, so he gently removed Angela and brought her back to her cot before sitting next to Shelagh. He knew she didn't feel peaceful, but she looked so serene and he was content to watch her for just a few more moments before he ruined it all.
He didn't know how to have this conversation. He meant exactly what he said, but not at all the way he was sure she interpreted it. He loved her more fiercely than he ever thought possible and that love grew every second they were together. He could never stop loving her. However, they were both extremely stubborn, passionate individuals and he knew there were things they couldn't stand about each other. That didn't really phase him as he'd been previously married and knew that loving someone didn't always mean liking them, but Shelagh wasn't like him in that respect. Shelagh frequently loved whole-heartedly and saw the beauty in everything she did and touched, even if it made her angry. Shelagh needed to talk about things in order to understand them and found it difficult when he didn't confide in her; she couldn't stand secrets.
On the other hand, they were also extremely alike in many ways, and maybe that was why he was so furious with her earlier.
It wasn't that he didn't understand why she'd risked her life to save their patients and could've killed herself in the process, it was that he knew he would've done the same thing. He couldn't tell her not to act the way she did because it would've been hypocritical and she was far too intelligent not to realize that. On the other hand, if anything had happened to her, he wouldn't have survived and that made him feel selfish. He loved Shelagh beyond words, but he hated her need to put everyone before herself - including him. How could he possibly tell her that though? How could he tell her that the selfless care that drew him to her in the first place was now the thing that made him want to lock her in the house for her own damn good?
"Patrick?" he heard her murmur groggily. He must've been sitting there longer than he thought.
"I'm sorry, love. Go back to sleep." he whispered.
"You're here?" she asked in awe. His heart shattered again.
"I'm here." he promised. "I will never leave you."
Shelagh rolled over and turned on the lamp and sat up to face him.
"You said you…" she couldn't finish the sentence.
"I know. And I'm so sorry." he apologized sincerely.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, utterly terrified.
"I love you, Shelagh." he promised.
"That's not what I asked." she gently corrected.
Patrick sighed.
"I didn't mean it the way it came out. I love you, my darling, I can't live without you, but we're both only human. There are things that both of us do that the other might not like." he very carefully worded.
"I know that, Patrick, I'm not naive." she said with a little more bite than intended. "But you didn't say you didn't like certain things about me, you said you didn't like me."
"And it wasn't true." he quickly and truthfully assured. "I was scared and angry and I said the wrong thing."
"You were scared?" she asked. Leave it to Shelagh to pick up on the one piece of information that was about him rather than continuing to tend to her own heartbreak.
"I was. I am." he paused. "I was so grateful when you walked out of the maternity home unharmed, but then I couldn't help but think how easily you could've been hurt. You could have been killed, Shelagh. I didn't know if you were alright."
She understood. They were getting somewhere.
"You were angry that I stayed behind." she clarified, her hurt softening though, not disappearing.
"Yes." he sighed. "And I know how selfish and hypocritical that sounds."
"It is," she agreed, "but I know you would've done the same thing and I would've felt the same way."
A hint of a smile graced her face for the first time that evening.
"We're quite the pair aren't we?" Patrick joked wryly.
"It would seem so. I'm sorry I pushed. I know I told you I would work on that." she apologized sheepishly.
"It's alright." he forgave her. "I'm not foolish enough to believe that either of us stubborn mules will change overnight. I just want you to know that I'm not going anywhere."
"It might take a little time," she admitted, "but I'm not going anywhere either."
She reached out and took his hand and her simple touch let loose the tension in his body. For the first time since he left, he dared to think that they might truly be able to forgive each other.
"Can I come to bed?" he asked. His blatant fear that she would banish him from their room when all he wanted to do was hold her and make sure she was safe pushed through the remaining walls of her anger.
"I wouldn't want you anywhere else."
She leaned forward and kissed him sweetly and he held her until they fell asleep.
17 down, 33 to go! Hope you enjoy!