Chapter 48: Patrick

I had gotten my hair cut nearly two hours before I hit the Mississippi. I was somewhere in Louisiana, I wasn't quite sure where, but I was closer than I imagined. Closer to Patrick. Closer to Madeline. Closer to the date in which they were leaving to probably some shitty cabin up at Lake Michigan. Or maybe it was Lake Ontario. I couldn't quite remember what Ace had said on the phone to me about their next destination.

My legs were itching to get out of the car and walk around, so at the nearest gas station, which was thirty miles east of the Mississippi and ironically, in Mississippi, I stopped. Paying with a stolen credit card, which if you thought hard about it wasn't actually stolen since its' owner was dead and had no living relatives, I filled the tank with gas and stretched my legs. Then I got back on the road.

It was hard to tell myself that I wasn't being a total stalker. I mean, who wouldn't see me as a stalker if they just looked at me and my plan?

Driving another four hours, I finally reached the small cottage-looking house that Patrick and Madeline supposedly were living in. I stopped in front of the house, turning off the engine and just staring. I knew I was being creepy, like that old guy who had been caught online playing a young luxurious girl, and I knew I hated myself for it. But whatever I did, I couldn't get out of the car. I just couldn't.

I knew Patrick was depressed and I knew what Ace said. I knew that I could cheer Patrick up, make him loose the frown and give into a smile. But I couldn't. Somehow I longed for Patrick's smile, and I knew I could be the cause of it. But I'd also be the cause of another long period of depression, and I couldn't handle that. Not now. Not ever.

I could see the lights brightly from the rooms and I sighed, praying to God that whatever I did, didn't end up with me being caught or seen or worse... recognized. Pulling out my phone I decided to call Ace, since after all, he was like an expert in this area. Awkwardly an expert, if you ask me.

"Hello?" His deep voice answered. I took a deep breath and stared at the steering wheel, contemplating hanging up and just knocking on the God damned door or turning the engine back on and running. Or driving, but running sounds better.

"I can't do this." I simply said, my breath hitching. "I can't go up to that door, and we both know why."

"Sarah, I'm not one to ask or to plead in this case, but come on. Don't you think he deserves to know that you're alive?" Ace replied, attempting to persuade me into moving my left hand toward the door.

"Does he? Really? 'Cause the last I remember he fucked up pretty bad."

"No. You both fucked up pretty bad. You can't blame Patrick for everything that went wrong between you two. I cannot believe I'm saying this, since after all I rehearsed this conversation a long time ago when I thought it would be the opposite way around, but he needs to know the truth. He needs to know how you feel. He needs you to know how he feels. He needs you."

"Are we talking about the same person? Patrick as in 'the asshole who for once, beat me in the ring, Patrick?' Or are you just talking about some guy you became friends with in a public bar?"

"No. The Patrick that beat your ass in the ring and has half of your DNA running around the house." I sighed and ran a hand through my long black hair.

"Seriously, Ace. I can't do this. This is impossible. There's no way in hell that I'm going to be able to walk up to that door, knock on it, and see Patrick's face light up before I start remembering that as soon as I'm done visiting his heart is going to drop. And honestly, I'm not sure if it'll ever come back up after that."

"Sarah, just do it. You aren't there just for Patrick. You're there for Madeline. And even Lydia. This is what normal people do. So why don't you start acting like you belong in this world and stop thinking that you were always meant to go to Hell."

"Thanks for the soothing idea." I said sarcastically. Ace sighed.

"Come on Sarah. I know your not that cold-hearted." The line was quiet and I could only hear Ace's breathing. I was hesitant to answer, rethinking and re-evaluating my decisions between yes and no. Yes, I will get out and make the most of my little time there or No, leaving Patrick and Madeline (and Lydia, of course) to feel the depression truly sink in as they watch Lydia (Lydia watches herself) finish the end game of her deathbed.

"Fine." I finally said, breath shaky. "I will go to the door. But you owe me, cardstock."

"Cardstock, huh? That's new."

"Well, get used to it, because there's a lot more where that came from." I hung up, my signature move when talking to Ace over the phone and sighed, staring through the windshield out into the forest of darkness. brushing some of my hair out of the way, I looked down at myself, at my clothes mostly. I wore a pair of black combat boots, which practically restrained my ankles from driving, but I got through it, a pair of black, dark, ripped skinny jeans, a white T-shirt with a decorative skull printed onto it, and a leather jacket. Of course, it wasn't my choice of clothing, but with my new hairstyle and look, it was inevitable that I chose something that I wasn't exactly fond of.

I opened the car door and stepped out, the cold misty air hitting me with an eerie touch. Sliding the car keys into my pocket I locked the doors, walking around the front bumper and heading up to the front door of the house. With each step, my heart began to race faster. Then my heart stopped once my knuckles touched the door.

My knock seemed to play in slow motion and I forced myself to breathe straight after. Laughter rung in my ears and I distinctly heard Madeline's voice screaming in joy. The door opened and I saw the small-boned brunette girl run past as she chased a small golden retriever, most likely a puppy. That's when he looked up.

"Sorry, she's just a little exci-" he stopped suddenly, mouth falling open slightly and eyes stuck on mine. I swallowed and breathed a sigh. He was frozen in place, not moving, barely breathing and holding the door open wide, letting some of the warmth of inside out and the cold in.

"It's been a while." I said, attempting to break the ice. I noticed his features. Even though I had seen him during my employment, if you could call it that, with the Justice League and the Team, it seemed like more than two years since I had last saw him. His usual soft, smooth chin was covered in a dark brown stubble and his usual shining green eyes were glazed and partially red. I swallowed again, feeling the awkwardness build up between us as I he just stared at me, quieter than I had ever seen him.

"Sarah?" He finally breathed, his frozen stature melting a little and his breathing gradually going faster. I had to say something so I said the first thing on my mind.

"Patrick."