Prompt 48: "I'm too sober for this"

Summary: Future AU in which Tim enlists in the RAMC (Royal Army Medical Corps) in 1970 and goes to Belfast to serve as an Army Medic for Operation Banner.

A/N: I'm so sorry for this one because it's angst everywhere. Oops. This wasn't the original idea for this prompt, but it crept up on me and kept yelling at me, so I decided to listen to it and write it down. On the bright side, the last two prompts will be one smutty and one fluffy, so this is the last bit of heartbreak before we hit the finish line!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Tim, you're not going and that's final!" Patrick hollered as panic began to fill his veins.

"I'm 23 years old, dad. I didn't come for your permission!" Tim shouted back, the anger at his father's hypocrisy no longer hidden in any way.

"Timothy, please-" Shelagh tried to calm her boys, but they were too far gone and she knew it was only a matter of moments before one of them said something the other couldn't forgive.

"Oh, of course, you take his side!" Timothy spat at her. "I shouldn't have even come. I should've just gone with Shaylee last month. I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"Don't you dare speak to your mother like that!" Patrick warned, eyes blazing with fear and fury like he'd never felt towards his son before. "You have no idea what a war zone is like, Timothy, and I will not have you throwing on a uniform for a cause that has nothing to do with you and a girl you haven't seen in weeks."

"I told you I wanted to enlist in the medical corps six months ago and you said you were proud, was that all just lies?" Tim asked.

"That was before I realized you were stupid enough to follow your hormones to bloody Ireland!" Patrick yelled. Tim stood frozen and Shelagh felt her heart drop.

"I'm going to serve in Belfast and be with Shaylee and her family." Tim spoke coldly and calmly. "I'll be back in England when I'm no longer needed." Tim grabbed his bag roughly off the floor and moved towards the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle and turned to face his parents. Patrick was too angry to see it, but Shelagh saw the sadness and regret in his eyes. "And just so you know, she's not some girl I haven't seen in weeks," he paused, looking at Shelagh because he couldn't bear to look at his dad, "she's my fiance who's asked for my help."

Tim left the normally-cheerful house without saying goodbye, left notes for his brother and sister on the step, and drove away.

That was 11 months and 29 days ago and the family was miserable. Angela and Teddy were devastated to come home and find out that their beloved older brother had left for Operation Banner without a proper goodbye or a guarantee he would ever come back. Eleven-year-old Angela had taken on her mother's spunk and determination and quickly (though sadly) assumed her role as eldest sibling and did everything she could to help her parents and her little brother. Teddy had taken Tim's leaving particularly hard, especially since he'd become rather attached to Shaylee, Tim's fiance.

It was understandable. All of the Turners adored Shaylee when Tim brought her home for dinner to meet them. Shaylee was a beautiful, young, Irish girl a year younger than Tim. Her parents sent her to England to study in 1968 when it looked like tensions in Northern Ireland might escalate into military action. In 1969, when British troops were sent up North, Tim was Shaylee's anchor. She'd wanted to leave school and return home to be with them, but they wouldn't allow it. Tim got her through her days, her studies, and her fears, and somewhere along the way, the two discovered they were madly in love with each other. When Tim first brought Shaylee home, Patrick even joked with a twinkle in his eye that it was fitting Tim found himself a girl from the Northern parts with a name like Shaylee given how much Tim had rolled his eyes when Patrick hinted he was likely to end up with a girl like his mother.

Everything was fine until Shaylee's older brother was killed in a riot.

Tim couldn't console her and the second she packed her bags, he made good on his decision to join the RAMC. Her family didn't care that he was enlisted for Britain, they only cared about a peaceful world for their children and that was what he hoped to help provide. He really thought his own family would be supportive, especially since his father had been in the RAMC himself, but everything had gone wrong and now none of them knew when they would see each other again.

Shelagh had been trying tirelessly to help Patrick and her children through their worries, and thankfully, Angela and Teddy were adjusting, but she still couldn't seem to reach Patrick. It would be exactly one year since Tim left the following day and Patrick was still as haunted as the day he'd screamed at his son.

At first, it was just the distance. He threw himself completely into his work and refused to talk about Tim. That, she could deal with. It wasn't ideal, but she'd gone through periods of distance and withdrawal with him before and she knew he would eventually open up to her and things would get better...or so she thought. Six months in, she smelled the alcohol on his breath for the first time. She'd never begrudge him a drink after a hard day, so she let it go.

Eight months in, she was falling asleep to the smell of whiskey at least three times a week and Angela was glaring at him over breakfast.

Nine months in, he was sleeping at the surgery half the time and Teddy was sneaking into her room in the middle of the night because he missed his daddy.

Ten months in, Sister Julienne called Shelagh into her office because she was concerned, but Shelagh couldn't face the idea of anyone finding out that they were falling apart, so she forced on a smile and lied through her teeth that Patrick was simply in need of a break and they would take one when she could find a locum. She actually did manage to find a locum who could cover for a week of leave, but Patrick refused to go. She was going to fight him, but his reasoning was that he couldn't stop working and take a break while Tim was putting his life on the line. It was the first time in so long that she could remember him saying Tim's name, and she refused to push that glimmer of progress.

Eleven months in, she broke down sobbing in Trixie's arms as she finally told someone about her husband's alcoholism. Trixie cried with her and they talked for hours about what the next step might be. It didn't occur to Shelagh until she said the sickness out loud that she didn't want to admit that Patrick had a problem. He'd never turned to drinking before, so she'd never considered it. Her worst fears when Tim left were that Patrick would pick up smoking again or drive himself into insanity. She never considered that the same addictive, obsessive personality that catered to his work and smoking habits could so easily translate into another vice.

It wasn't until the anniversary of that terrible day approached that she found the courage to confront him. One of the things Trixie told her was to not forget that she was hurting too. She'd spent so much time taking care of her family over the past year that she hadn't given herself time to hurt over Tim's absence or give into the fear that the reason they hadn't heard from him was that he was never coming home. She needed to talk about Tim and she needed her husband.

Shelagh expected an empty house when she returned home that afternoon, so she was more than surprised when Angela met her at the door.

"Ange?" Shelagh asked, confused since she expected her daughter at orchestra practice until just before dinner. The sight of Angela's clarinet on the side table confirmed the schedule she had in her head. At least Angela was far better at wind instruments than Tim...

"Dad picked us up." Angela said quietly.

"Us?" Shelagh asked as she hung up her bag.

"Teddy's outside." Angela clarified. "I told dad that Teddy was supposed to stay with the Mastersons tonight, but he said it was important we all be home." The edge in Angela's voice crushed something in Shelagh, but she wasn't wrong. After all they'd been through, the idea of Patrick wanting the family together and insisting upon them being home was more than hypocritical. Though, she thought, perhaps it meant he hadn't forgotten the significance of the date?

"Where's your father?" Shelagh asked. Angela paused, as though she could feel the impending fight between her parents, but eventually answered.

"In Tim's room." she sighed. "He said he'd be down for dinner. I can start it if you want?"

"No, dearest, that's alright." Shelagh assured her. "You've done so much over the past few months. Take a few moments for yourself. I'll start dinner in a little while."

Angela smiled and hugged her mother before darting off to her room. Shelagh relished the fleeting feeling of her daughter's arms and prayed that Angela's teenage aversion to affection wouldn't kick in too soon.

Walking the familiar path to Tim's room, Shelagh found her worry about confronting Patrick slip into a calm resolution. They weren't okay. They hadn't been okay for sometime, but now Patrick was sitting in his son's room and he'd stopped being so consumed by his eldest child that he'd taken the time to pick up his two youngest. He was trying and that was more than he'd even attempted in so long.

"Patrick?" her soft voice floated from the doorway and she knew he heard her by the way the stress in his face eased just a bit. Despite everything, they still had that effect on the other. There was no situation that wasn't made slightly better by the presence of the other, even in the midst of boiling anger and remembering that soothed Shelagh.

"Do you think he'll ever sleep in here again?" He asked. His voice was raspy and as Shelagh moved closer to sit beside him on the bed, she realized he didn't smell of whiskey. Real, true hope bloomed in her for the first time in months.

"I don't know." she admitted. She reached her hand out and gently brushed his, hoping he wouldn't pull away. When he didn't, she risked taking his hand firmly in her own and it was as though her entire body relaxed and healed when he squeezed back. "It's been a year. I had hoped we would've heard from him by now." she whispered.

"I can't help but think that I-" he paused, his body shook. "I...I can't, I'm too sober for this." He pulled his hand out of her grasp and turned for the door, but she stopped him by wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"No, you're not, Patrick." she promised as she held him tight, her body confirming her words. "You picked up Angela and Teddy and you came in here, you're trying so hard."

He broke in her arms and knelt down on the floor crying. She fell behind him and rocked him slowly with her embrace as she placed loving kisses on his shoulders.

"How can you hold me?" He asked, his voice breaking. "How can you still touch me after the hell I've put you through? God, I'm so sorry, Shelagh. I'm so sorry for everything."

Shelagh forced herself to breathe and gather her thoughts. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to let loose all the anger and hurt that had piled up over the past year. She wanted to blame him for driving their son away. She wanted to curse him.

But she couldn't.

"Because I love you, Patrick." she breathed. "I never stopped loving you. I...I am so angry with so many things...and I'm furious with you, but...after all of this and...everything...I can't imagine losing you." Shelagh moved around so she could sit facing him. "We will get Tim back, Patrick, but right now, there are two other children downstairs who miss their father and I...I can't do this alone anymore."

They lost track of how long they held each other crying and murmuring words of loss, of love, of utter frustration.

Eventually, a soft knock in the doorway interrupted them.

"I'm sorry, mum," Angela apologized softly, averting her eyes from the sight of her parents showing that much emotion, "but it's seven and Teddy is hungry. Are you sure you don't want me to make dinner?"

Shelagh opened her mouth to answer, but Patrick beat her to it.

"No, Angel girl." Angela's eyes shot up at her dad's use of her pet name. "Tell Teddy to wait a minute. I think we could all benefit from fish and chips tonight. I'll be back in two ticks."

Angela's gaze still held months of fury and pain in it, but she allowed herself a small smile. "Could you also pick up some butterfly cakes?" she asked hopefully.

"I thought you were 'too old for butterfly cakes'?" Patrick asked. Shelagh and Angela caught each other's eye at the glimmer of cheek in his tone. They hadn't realized how much they'd missed it.

"I just suddenly had a craving." Angela replied with tears brimming. "And besides, I'm not as old as you and you like them." she quickly covered her own emotion with sarcasm - a trait Shelagh wasn't entirely pleased she'd picked up on, but at least Angela was smiling again.

"I think butterfly cakes would be a very appropriate choice." Shelagh remarked. Angela helped her parents up off her brother's floor and she gave Patrick a lengthy hug before relinquishing him at the sound of her grumbling stomach.

The Turner girls watched him drive off.

"Mum, does this mean things are back to normal?" Angela asked hopefully.

"Not quite." Shelagh admitted. "Your father once said, 'time isn't always a healer, but it can open doors'. I'd say we opened one tonight."

"I hope so." Angela replied. "I missed dad."

"I missed him too, Ange." Shelagh pulled Angela into her arms and they both laughed when Teddy ran careening into them to join the hug moments later.

Yes, they had definitely made a start.

48 down, TWO TO GO! Hope you enjoy!