Work Text:
After tossing the last bag of empties and leftover food into the trash can, Stevie turned to walk back to the front of the motel, her shoulders slumped with the exhaustion of the day. As much as she liked to pretend that nothing ever penetrated her tough exterior, the events of the evening had done so. After Patrick had followed David into his room, a harsh silence had fallen over the remaining barbeque guests. Soon, Rachel had quickly disappeared back to her room and only the Roses had remained with Stevie, exactly where David and Patrick had left them. Stevie didn’t know if it was shock that left them all unmoving, or the ominous stench of death that was radiating from more than the abandoned meat patties.
The shutting of a door and the sound of footsteps was what brought them all back to their feet as Patrick rounded the corner. Stevie had never seen him so defeated, shoulders slumped, head down, and a rasp in his voice. It wasn’t the Patrick she knew and loved. Taking pity on him, she grabbed the plate he was making for David from him and pointed back toward the rooms. “Room 4, she’s waiting”.
He looked up and made eye contact for the first time and she saw the red forming around his eyes. He simply nodded at her and turned back toward the rooms. Watching him go, she saw him falter for a moment in front of room 7, then continue down to room 4. The door opened for him and he disappeared inside. That was the last she had seen him that night.
After she delivered a monstrous amount of food to David, she had taken on the task of cleaning everything up while the Rose’s went to try and get David out of his room. Finally, with everything cleaned up, she made her way toward her car, planning to head home and drink her body weight in wine. Instead, a familiar face was sitting in the car parked next to hers. She sighed to herself and looked toward room 7, then back to the figure hunched over the steering wheel. No matter how mad David was, and how right he was to be mad, she knew he wouldn’t want Patrick to be alone tonight.
Changing course, Stevie veered toward the passenger side of Patrick’s car. She pulled at the handle but it was locked, her movement had caused Patrick to look up, and he unlocked the door for her. Stevie slid in next to him, ignoring the sniffling sounds he was trying to hide. “Your place or mine”?
Patrick glanced over at her, confusion in his eyes. “I don’t - wouldn’t he”, he stutters to a stop. Feeling nice, Stevie gripped his shoulder tightly.
“There is nothing else either of us can do tonight. So, I’ll ask again, your place or mine”? With his eyes shining, Patrick clears his throat.
“Yours”.
“Good choice, I don’t think I could handle Ray at the moment”.
Patrick snorts as he takes one last look at room 7, and puts the car into reverse.
Five minutes later, Stevie is opening her front door, as Patrick follows close behind. He shuffles in behind her, looking around, almost lost. Finally, he settles near the counter and Stevie heads straight for the whiskey, immediately pouring two large glasses. She hands one to Patrick who throws it back without hesitation.
“Fuck”. Stevie mutters, mostly to herself as she refills her glass.
“Fuck is right”. Patrick says as he slides down the counter until he’s on the floor, head going between his knees. Stevie goes straight to damage control. Grabbing both of their glasses and placing them on the counter. Then, with an amount of strength she didn’t know she had, she hoists Patrick to his feet, and gracelessly moves the both of them to her bed. Patrick falls straight back onto it, while she goes back for their glasses then joins him.
“This is just great”, Patrick groans. “It feels like yesterday I was here with David”, his voice breaks, “and now -”.
“Now you’re here with me, how the mighty have fallen”. Normally, a joke like this would have made him laugh, but Stevie should have known he was too far gone for that. “Listen, Patrick, it’s going to be okay”.
“How do you know that, Stevie? What if I fucked it all up”?
“You did fuck it all up”.
Patrick groans loudly and throws his hands over his face. Stevie lays down next to him on her back.
“But he’ll come back. Just give him time”.
Taking his hands off his face slowly to look at Stevie lying next to him, “How do you know that”?
“Because I know him and I know you, and I know you two are disgustingly in love with each other even if neither of you will admit it”.
Stevie hears Patrick’s breath hitch next to her, and she could swear she felt his heart rate quicken through the mattress. Then, in a moment of kindness, because she knows he needs it, Stevie grabs Patrick’s hand and gives it a squeeze.
He squeezes back, and the floodgates dissolve instantly. Patrick sobs, and she lets him, holding onto his hand tightly as he cries and cries next to her. His chest heaves, and Stevie worries that if this goes much longer her heart is going to break too. Eventually, his tears slow and they both sit up, Stevie nicely grabbing Patrick a roll of toilet paper to blow his nose into.
Patrick glances at his empty whisky glass. “Do you have any more whiskey”? He asks. Stevie grabs the bottle and walks back to the bed, refilling both of their glasses. They sit in silence next to each other, drinking slowly.
“I do love him”. It’s a quiet confession, even though Stevie already knew it was true.
“Duh, Patrick”.
“Do you really think he’ll come back”?
Stevie sighs and finishes her drink, thinking. She knows the answer, or at least she hopes she does.
“I do”, she lets Patrick sit with this for a moment. “But you really need to earn it, Patrick”. Stevie watches him nod into his drink.
“I know. I will.”
Stevie watches his face, and she can see clear as day that he means it. She was right when she told David months ago that she “liked this for him”. Patrick is good, not perfect, but good. There is no doubt in her mind that Patrick deserves David, and even when he doesn’t, he is going to make himself better until he does. No way would she ever admit it, but she loves Patrick. Stevie loves him for him and for David, and he’s becoming one of her best friends. She chose to take him under her big black wing tonight, because even though she is David’s friend first, she knew Patrick would need her more tonight. Tomorrow, she will go and bang on David’s door until he lets her in, and the same the day after and the day after until he doesn’t need her anymore. But tonight, she’s here with Patrick.
After Patrick has dried his face, and they have both drunk more than enough whiskey, they get ready for bed. Patrick helps her throw their glasses in the dishwasher and she loans him an extra toothbrush she keeps around. They lay down next to each other in her bed, lights off - both still, but wide awake.
“Stevie,” Patrick whispers into the dark, “do you really think he will forgive me”?
Stevie rolls over to look at him, “ do you remember the lice outbreak? When David stayed with me”? Patrick nods. “That was the first day I met you, but I could just tell that there was something between you two. Something good. That night, I told David that I liked this” she gestures at Patrick, “for him. Patrick, you fucked up, I won’t lie to you. But, you’re good, you’re better than most of us, and you’re good for David. He’s better with you”.
“I’m better with him”.
Stevie rolls back onto her back. “He likes gifts”.
“Huh”?
“And people showing up for him”. Stevie feels Patrick nod next to her.
“I can do that. I want to do that”.
She rolls onto her side, her back to Patrick.
“You’ll be back to making gross heart eyes at each other before we know it”.
A muffled giggle sounds from Patrick, and Stevie smiles.
“Thank you, Stevie”.
“You’re welcome, Pat”.
Patrick sighs, “we are not doing Pat”.
“Sure, Pat”.