"Patrick. Patrick."

My eyes flicked opened to the sound of Garrick's voice. It took awhile for me to get my bearings and realize that I was in the study in Patrick's sleepy arms. My lip felt tight and swollen and my eyelids still felt heavy.

Finally my eyes flicked up to Garrick's grave face that loomed over us.

"What's the time," I croaked, sitting up.

I had totally forgotten that Garrick had been trying to wake up Patrick.

"Close to ten," he answered, still looking like he had something to say.

"Garrick? What's happened?" Patrick asked, seeing something on Garrick's face that I hadn't.

"Ah, well, I just got a phone call from Alexander Hall, your father's second -."

"I know who Alexander Hall is," he reminded him, his voice turning cold and emotionless as he knew how this story ended.

I was still oblivious, trying to come out of my sleepy haze.

"Right. Ah, your father's car was t-boned after he left here. His car rolled and well...he didn't make it."

That woke me up. Patrick sat up, stunned. Like on instinct, I fell to my knees in my front of him, clawing at his cheeks to get something out of him. A word, a tear, anything. Even something in his eyes. Anger, sadness, regret. But there wasn't. Just cold emptiness that not even he could escape.

"He died at the hospital," Garrick told him, swallowing, "there was no time, to call. I'm so sorry."

I pulled Patrick into my arms, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. I consumed his warmth, his smell, trying to assure myself that he wasn't breaking.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered into his neck, hugging him tighter.

The only sadness I felt for Oscar was for Patrick. He never got a chance to work things out. He never got his worthless tick of approval.

My eyes squeezed shut when I felt his arms come around me. Small tears dropped from my eyes as I feared his reaction. Would he take to the bed like I did? Would he ever be the same after this?

"I'm so sorry," I whispered against his shoulder, trying to crawl at the last piece of him that was still Patrick.

He remained silent, only making my fear grow. God, say something Patrick! I wanted to scream, don't bottle things up! Speak to me!

But I couldn't. I didn't know how too.

I wouldn't let him go. I knew my position was simply. Comfort him and help him through his grief. But what if he was grieving over someone that didn't deserve a moment of grief in his life?