FicWad

‘How about… a car?’
‘No! I’m not made of money!’
‘A… giant… bouncy castle?’
‘Are you just stabbing in the dark here?’

Night had finally fallen. It was close to midnight, and Patrick was looking forward to getting into bed at last for some much-needed rest. Sure, he was supposed to have been resting all day because of his head injury… but Pete had ruined that plan. All day long they’d been playing a strange sort of game. Pete would ask about the present, and Patrick wouldn’t divulge anything. So Pete would ask and ask and ask until Patrick ran away. Then it became a game of hide and seek, which they’d ended up playing about five times that day. And, unfortunately for Patrick, the fifth time he’d been caught going up to bed.

Patrick turned to close the curtains.
‘Please, Trick, can’t I just have a teeny weeny hint?’
‘No! Any more and you’ll guess.’
‘But I wanna know! I don’t wanna be surprised! Pleeeeease!’
Patrick turned to face Pete and started folding up his towel, sighing.
‘Do I really have to tell you again? I’m not gonna tell you anything about the stupid present. Now will you please leave me alone? I’m exhausted.’
He clambered into bed and pulled the duvet over his head, switching off the lamp so the room went totally black. But, of course, this didn’t stop Pete from climbing in too.
‘I’m gonna be up for another three, if not four hours. So I’m not going anywhere until you tell me something about it.’
‘Pete, give it a rest. Do you want me to get better or not?’

Patrick sounded fed up and miserable... and Pete realised it was finally time to drop the subject. He fell back onto the pillow and groaned quietly, still not knowing any more, not knowing whether to stay or go…

‘It’s coming tomorrow.’
He looked over as Patrick stuck his head out of the covers.
‘Late morning, lunchtime maybe. There. Now gimme some peace!’
Patrick rolled over with a sigh, but chuckled as he felt Pete pull him closer. He tried to push him away as he felt his sideburns being stroked, but started feeling too relaxed to do so.
‘I’m thinkin’ of shaving them off again.’
‘Aw, keep ‘em a little while longer, Trick. Everybody loves them. Especially me. They’re so soft…’
‘If I had any energy left you’d be pushed out of this bed by now,’ Patrick mumbled, but Pete could tell his little stroking trick was starting to work. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

Pete climbed out of the bed and tucked the covers round his weary friend, being careful not to hurt his head, and then tiptoed to the door, giving him one last check to make sure he was OK before leaving the room. He wasn’t sure what, but something about Patrick brought out the paternal instinct in him. Well, he had to use it on someone. Bronx was barely there these days. Pete could hardly stand the thought of him growing up all by himself, with no father figure in his life, no one to help him out and share all the best bits with. Little boys and their dads were supposed to be best friends. Instead, his son was thousands of miles away at home; and here he was, in some non-descript hotel in Florida, with an injured friend, a busted van and insomnia…

He shifted the negative thoughts from his head, instead heading purposefully downstairs to chat with the others before they went to bed. He’d learned, due to the events over the past couple of years, that dwelling on negative thoughts was never helpful. He’d just have to deal with them some other way.

***********************

It was late the next day when Pete felt himself wake up. It was one of those strange moments where he’d stop being asleep, but not think anything and not open his eyes. It was sort of… regaining consciousness. Because, although he wasn’t thinking, he could still feel.

There was something heavy on top of his stomach, something heavy and warm. It felt a bit like a sack, full of… Pete was starting to think now; strange thoughts, things which couldn’t possibly be in the bag. Warm bread? Dried flowers? Putty?

He lifted his hand up sleepily and put it on top of the… thing. It was quite big, and hairy, and… it gave a giggle.

Pete knew that voice. He knew that hair. He opened his eyes.

‘…Bronx?’
‘Daddy! You’re awake!’

Pete fought off the urge to squeeze his son to death as Bronx’s arms flew round his neck.

‘Hey, buddy, what are you doing here?’
‘We came to see you, Dad! We missed you!’
‘I know, I know, but… I wasn’t expecting you! But I’m so happy to see you, my favourite little guy!’
He rubbed his head against the small cheek happily. ‘Wait… did anybody ask you to come?’
‘Well I wanted to come anyway but Mommy had to bring me and she’s still not friends with you so Uncle Patrick phoned her and they talked about grown-up stuff and then we packed and–’
So this was his present. Pete made a mental note to squeeze Patrick to death too.

***********************
The hairspray was chucked into the bag, followed by a pair of straighteners, some aftershave, moisturiser…

Bronx had long since disappeared downstairs, and Pete was… ‘getting ready’. He’d been quite content with being a dirty, non-showering kind of guy for the rest of the tour. But now, there was actually a reason to look presentable. As Pete stood in front of the mirror, thinking about Ashlee downstairs, he actually wondered about under-eye concealer… but managed to remind himself that straighteners and moisturiser were girly enough. Shoving the bag back in his suitcase (so Patrick wouldn’t find it) he took several deep breaths.

You can do this, man. It’s just some girl. Just a friend of yours.
Just a friend?! She’s the mother of my child! The love of my life!
But there’s no need to get het up about it. Just go downstairs and act normal.
I can’t act normal in this situation! I’m freaking out here! And I’m not even near her yet!
Alright then, don’t act normal. Act… cool.

But, on second thoughts, Pete decided normal was better. With a final deep breath, he closed the door behind him and headed down the stairs.

And then, sooner than expected, he saw her.

Ashlee was standing in the lobby talking to Brendon, keeping her eye on Bronx as he scurried about playing with things. She looked the same as ever: nicely slim, with soft red hair and deep eyes. It wasn’t as if she was wearing anything fancy; just a pink T-shirt, grey cardigan and jeans. But, as far as Pete was concerned, she looked stunning.

She laughed slightly, and pushed her hair off her face… and they locked eyes. Pete managed to get down the rest of the stairs without falling down them, and made his way over to her and Brendon slowly. But he soon realised – his mouth had gone completely dry. He knew it was only a matter of time before the stuttering would kick in.

‘Hey…’
‘Hi.’
There was a very, very awkward silence. Then Brendon looked at his watch.
‘Oh man, is that the time? I’d better be getting off…’
Pete shot Brendon a dark look; a look that said ‘Don’t you even think about leaving, asshole.’
Brendon smiled weakly. ‘But hey, Pete, what’ve you been up to? I haven’t seen you for months, man. What’s been goin’ on?’

So Pete started. And, as time went on and he talked to Brendon as well as Ashlee, he found himself becoming more and more relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that he didn’t notice Brendon slip away from the group and out of sight. He didn’t notice Ashlee asking him questions as they took a walk outside, he just answered them automatically; and he barely took in her laughter at his bad jokes. It just felt so normal, so right, to be spending time with someone he loved. Sure, he had his son, his friends, and his family. But this was different. A whole other feeling. And as their hands brushed momentarily, he realised he felt a completely different happiness from when he was with Bronx, or Patrick, or his mother. The soft, blissful happiness only love could bring.