FicWad

Patrick was lying on the couch, his eyes closed, enjoying the rare afternoon of peace and quiet. Addison had gone shopping and had taken the kids with her, allowing Patrick to have some time to write some new music. He had sat in his study with his guitar in hand for almost an hour before giving up and retreating to the couch. He was almost drifting off to sleep when a banging on the front door jolted him awake again. Jumping up, he ran to the door where someone was pounding on the glass of the window pane. When he opened the door, he found himself pushed against the wall and Pete's face directly in front of his.
"Pete! What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?"
"You! You fucking knew! You knew! You knew the whole God damn time and you never told me?" Pete shouted, his hands on Patrick's shoulders and shaking him with every word.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Patrick asked, struggling against Pete's grip.
"You call yourself my best friend? I can't believe you knew and you let me walk around like a fucking moron with no idea!"
"Let me go!" Patrick asked, finally breaking free from Pete and ducking as he swung for him again.
"You are a piece of shit!" Pete yelled, clenching his fists as he rounded on Patrick, who held his hands up.
"Slow down. What the fuck are you so angry about?" He asked, watching Pete who was trying to compose his breathing, his eyes blazing with anger. It was then Patrick understood.
"Oh, that," he said, dropping his voice.
"Yeah, that," Pete hissed. "How could you do that to me, Patrick? How could you?"
"Look, it's not what you think…"
"Oh, here we go. Defending yourself? Really? You screwed me over, man!"
"I didn't screw you over! I never told you because Rachel didn't want me to! How could I betray her trust by telling you when she didn't want you to know yet?"
"I'm your best fucking friend! You should have told me no matter what!"
"And what kind of friend would that make me to Rachel, huh?"
"I don't give a fuck about what kind of friend it makes you to her. You sat there with me… and you knew the whole time!"
"Look, Pete… I only found out when I went to Australia, okay? I didn't know the whole damn time!"
"Bullshit!" Pete said, moving towards him.
"I swear!" Patrick said, holding his hands up in defence again. "She only told me after I'd been in Australia for a few days."
"Then why didn't you call me?"
"I couldn't. She trusted me with that. If I had told you, there was no way she would have ever come back. And you wouldn't have seen your son."
"Stop making excuses, man! You call yourself my best friend and you kept that from me. You should have told me the second you found out!"
"Listen to yourself!" Patrick shot back. "You're talking shit! You know how much my friendships mean to me. I went to Australia for YOU, Pete! Because I was so God damn worried about you. If I told Rachel's secret she would never trust me again. Certainly not enough to come back and try and work things out with you!"

Pete stayed silent while Patrick shook his head.
"I would have thought you'd be glad I'm loyal. It's not such a bad thing, you know."
"You're not loyal, you were just meddling. If you were loyal, you wouldn't have kept it from me."
"Seriously? I can't believe I'm hearing this. You know what Rachel went through, do you really think it was my business to tell anyone else? Especially when she didn't want me to?"
"Yeah, well, sometimes you have to do things you don't wanna do."
"You're not thinking about this properly, man."
"Are you fucking kidding me? I've just found out that the woman I love and my supposed best friend have been sitting giggling together and keeping secrets from me!"
"Oh, grow up, Pete! That's not what went on and you know it. I was being a friend, she trusted me. That's it!
"I get it!" Pete said, mockingly slapping himself in the head. "So if Addison got rid of YOUR kid and then tried to kill herself and then told ME about it and we decided not to tell you, that would be okay, would it?"
"Stop trying to blame everyone else. You should be helping Rachel, not looking for people to blame. The fact that Rachel told me first isn't the problem here. The problem is that we need to get Rachel the help she needs."
"Why should I help her? She killed my baby!"
"Pete, she nearly died! You realize that, right?"
"Oh, I realize that alright. She nearly died because she was having an abortion!"
"I know, but…"
"She had an abortion, Patrick! She nearly died because she was getting rid of MY child! And then she can't cope with the guilt so she tries to kill herself? Don't you think I deserved to know that?"
"Pete…" Patrick started, but Pete cut him off.
"Just… stay away from me."
He turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Patrick leant his head against the wall and sighed. Without thinking, he bolted after Pete, who was just about to get in his car when Patrick blocked it by standing in front of the door.
"Listen… everything I found out, I found out because I went there to help you. To help her. But mostly, to help you. Because I couldn't stand seeing you so depressed. And yes, Rachel trusted me to tell me her darkest secret, and I didn't tell you because I didn't wanna violate that trust. That's not the kind of friend I am. The whole abortion thing? That's something you need to discuss properly with her, not judge her on. And the suicide thing? Well, Pete, forgive me for having so much faith in you that I thought you of all people would understand the depths of despair she must have been in to even consider it. I guess I thought more of you. You go ahead... judge her. Just like you judge everyone. But don't forget that you've been there before and you know what it's like for people to judge something they know nothing about."
Patrick took a few steps away before turning back to him.
"You know what, Pete? Perhaps that's why she didn't want to tell you. Maybe, just maybe, she knew you would just judge her. Did you ever think of that?"

**

Patrick sat on the stairs, his head in his hands. He had been waiting for Rachel to return for the last hour and there was no sign of her. Another half hour passed and he braced himself as he heard a car pull into the driveway. Sitting up straight, he watched the door, and for the first time ever, was disappointed when his wife walked through it.
"Hey, honey!" she said, happily as Riley, Danielle and Josh spilled into the house.
"Hi," he said, quietly. "Hi, you guys, did you have fun?" he asked, smiling, although it wasn't genuine. In truth, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and let this day be over. He strained to pretend to smile and listen to the excited chatter of three children as his head pounded and the sick feeling in his stomach grew with every minute that passed.
"Are you okay?" Addison mouthed to him as he nodded along with Riley's story.
"Fine," he signalled, with a slight nod of his head. Addison frowned but left him to it, entering the kitchen to unpack her shopping bags.
"Hey guys, why don't you go and put on a movie? I'll let you stay up late if you pick a good one, alright?"
He stood up as they raced to the living room, while he followed Addison into the kitchen. She turned around when she heard his footsteps and put the groceries down on the counter.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Nothing," he answered, leaning against the worktop. "Did you have a good day?"
"Patrick, I know when you're lying. What's wrong?"
He fidgeted before running a hand over his face with a small sigh.
"I can't tell you," he replied. "I really want to, but I can't."
Addison frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Pete and I had a fight," Patrick admitted, hoping she wouldn't ask too many questions that would lead to him talking about Rachel. Naturally he wanted to talk to Addison about it, but it wasn't his business to share with anyone else.
"Why?"
"Rachel told me something when I went out to see her and she didn't want me to tell Pete."
"And?"
"And she told Pete and now he's pissed off at me because I knew. He thinks I was keeping it from him deliberately."
"Were you?"
"No," Patrick replied. "Rachel didn't want me to tell him. She wasn't ready for him to know."
"But she thought you were?"
"Yeah," he nodded. He frowned at her. "Are you pissed at me?"
"Why could she tell you and not Pete?"
"Because I happened to be there," he informed her. "It wasn't easy for her."
"What did she tell you?"
Patrick hesitated. The sickening feeling of an impending fight began to thump away at his chest.
"I can't tell you."
Addison laughed sarcastically and shook her head.
"Seems like a nice little secret you and Rachel have."
"Are you kidding me? You're really going to go down that road?"
"What road? I come home and my husband admits to me that he and his best friend's… whatever she is… have a cozy little secret."
"Pete knows too. And it's only a secret because it's deeply personal to Rachel."
"Is it that she's in love with you?"
Patrick was stunned momentarily. He stared at her, dumbfounded.
"What?"
"Is she in love with you? It's a simple question."
"No, she's not in love with me."
"It sounds like she is."
"She's not," Patrick said, furiously. "It's nothing to do with me. It's about her and Pete, actually."
"So tell me."
"I can't. It's not my secret to tell."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"What?" Patrick said, taken aback.
"She's staying with us. Isn't that convenient if she's in love with you?"
"Oh my God," Patrick said, in disbelief, shaking his head. "What a sad story you're making up. You really think I would do that to you?"
"How do I really know what went on in Australia? I should never have let my husband go to another country and stay with another woman, and I shouldn't have agreed to have that woman stay in my house!"
"You're talking complete bullshit," he replied, glaring at her. "First of all, you don't own me. I might be your husband, but that doesn't mean you can tell me where to go or who to go with or who to be friends with. I can't believe this. I've already fought with my best friend today and now my wife is accusing me of having an affair with my best friend's ex?"
"Patrick, you're the one who wants to talk to me about something but can't actually give me any details.
"I want to!" he exclaimed. "But I can't."
"What's with all the secrecy? I feel like you're hiding something from me. Tell me Patrick, did something go on with you both?"
"If you really think I'm capable of doing that to you, then you don't know me as well as you think you do."
"I don't know what you're capable of anymore," she hissed.
"Well, then I guess you don't know your husband at all," he seethed. He turned and walked out of the kitchen, making his way to his car and slamming the door behind him.

It had been an hour and a half since his fight with Addison, and Patrick still hadn't calmed down. He had come to the one place he could calm down, the one place he secretly visited when he needed to think. Kicking dust up with his shoes as he scuffed them against the gravel angrily, he thoughts flashed furiously through his head.
When did my life get such a mess again? he wondered to himself as he walked, everything was going so well… and I fuck everything up by trying to help my friends.
He sat down on a bench and laid his head back, staring at the darkening sky.
Maybe Pete's right. Maybe I was meddling.
As the anger built up in his chest, he kept shaking his head at his own thoughts. He got up and continued walking, trying to breathe deeply, but the anger only made him feel more sick.
And suddenly he found himself at an all too recognisable sight. A place where he felt completely at peace and even the wind blowing gave him some comfort that he wasn't as alone as he currently felt. A lump formed in his throat as he felt the familiar rush of emotions surge throughout his body as he sat down on the grass.
Love, confusion, comfort, anger, yet at the same time tranquility, peace, but most of all… loss.
"Amanda… baby what I would give to see you right now," he whispered. "My life is so fucked up without you."
He bit his lip and looked around at his surroundings. His thoughts danced through his head and he tried to ignore the tears of anger threatening to build up.
I don't know what to do, 'Mand. I was only trying to help, but I think I've made things worse.
For what felt like the millionth time that day, he lay his head in his hands and shook his head.
I only ever try to do the right thing and it backfires every time. Every damn time.
He tried desperately to ignore the thoughts that were flooding through his head about the past, until he could stand it no longer.
God, I miss you so much. I ache for you every single day.

"I didn't know you still came here," a voice from behind him said, making him jump.
"Rachel, you scared the crap out of me," Patrick said, quietly, his hand shooting up to his heart. "I'm getting too old for frights like that."
"You're 28, hardly geriatric," she smiled.
"Are you okay?" Patrick asked, although quickly became aware of how stupid a question it was.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Rachel said, gesturing towards Amanda's headstone. Patrick looked at it, suddenly feeling guilty.
"Yeah, well. This is where I come here to think."
"You can't come here often, then," she teased. Patrick smiled as Rachel sat down next to him.
"I actually feel a bit guilty now," he admitted.
"Why?"
"I dunno. Sort of like I'm… cheating."
"Don't be silly. You were meant for each other. You were madly in love. No one could ever expect you to forget Amanda."
"I know, I can't help it," he replied, picking at the grass.
"I told Pete," she said, after a long silence. Patrick didn't reply immediately, just continued picking at the grass.
"I know," he said, eventually. "He came round earlier."
"He did? How was he?"
"Angry," Patrick replied, quietly. "So very angry."
"I thought so. He was really quiet once I told him. He cried and I cried, and…"
Patrick sighed as she broke off.
"Rachel, I don't think I can be part of this."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the person you should be talking to is Pete. Not me."
"He's so hard to talk to. He won't listen, he just jumps to conclusions."
"I think he'll listen this time."
"He doesn't listen like you do," Rachel replied. Patrick looked at her and paused.
"That doesn't matter," he said, apprehensively. "It's between you and Pete. I've done my part - you're here. That was why I came. Now it's between you and Pete to work things out or to get help for you…" he trailed off.
"But…"
"I can't do it, Rachel. Don't you see? How bad does it look when I'm sneaking around keeping secrets for my best friend's ex? How do you think that makes my wife feel? Marriages don't work with secrets, even if they're not your own secrets."
He stopped and waited for her reply, and when it didn't come, he inhaled deeply and shut his eyes as he spoke.
"I think you need to find somewhere else to stay while you work things out with Pete."
"What?"
"Please, Rachel. Do this for me. I need to do this for my marriage."
Rachel stood up and ran her hands through her hair.
"You know, Patrick, you might wanna ask yourself how good your marriage really is if you're sitting at your girlfriend's grave instead of being at home with your family."