(no subject)

[symphony-muted.insanejournal.com]

WHO: David and Bridget
WHAT: saints have feelings too (Originally posted by David)
WHEN: Thursday morning
WHERE: David and Bridget's apartment
WARNINGS: mild saintly swearing



David put his book down, a slight frown creasing his brows. Patrick had gone home earlier that week, and it had brought all the thoughts of his dispute back to the fore. He wished fervently that he had not engaged with John. If he could undo that, he would. And George was still in his spare bed, in the middle of the nursery, afraid of where Sebastian had gone, Sebastian who had made some sort of deal and now was worryingly missing. He disliked that he was dwelling on this. He should be forgiving and letting it go, but somehow he could not. The feeling of being wronged lingered. Everything was tied up in a big knot.

David sighed, exasperated, and got up to put the jug on and butter a scone. There was a glut of baked goods in the cupboards currently, due to the visitors and David's continued fretting over Bridget and the fate of his children. He knew Patrick was trying to help, and it had been a pleasant distraction, but now he felt frustrated and short-tempered again. He reached into the cupboard to fetch a teacup, and fumbled with the handle. It smashed on the floor with a sharp tinkle.

"Goddamn it to hell!" David swore suddenly, stamping his foot, before going for the dustpan and brush. And now he felt a rush of guilt at blaspheming and swearing. Great.

Bridget felt huge and uncomfortable most days, but at least being forced to stay off her feet meant that her ankles weren't swelling quite so much. She had been in the living room, slightly reclined in her wheelchair, reading a book. She hear the smashing of china and then her husband swearing uncharacteristically.

She rolled her way to the kitchen and she raised her eyebrows at David. "Dewi, darling, are you alright?"

"Yes, I just broke a cup," David said with a sigh, sweeping up the broken fragments so nobody would step on them. He glanced up at Bridget in the chair still, and frowned. He'd hoped she'd be walking more by now. Maybe it was better to take it easy as long as possible. He found himself frowning worriedly again. He felt like his face was going to end up creasing that way permanently.

Bridget cocked her head to the side and she smiled kindly at her husband. "You look like you're walking about with your head in a rain cloud," she said to him, holding her hand out to him. "Come here, love."

David wrapped the broken porcelain in newspaper and threw it out, then went to Bridget. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "I just can't help fretting over everything. Even though the doctor said you are healing well and the babies are fine. And Patrick and George-" He shook his head and fetched another two cups to make Bridget some tea too. "I'm worried. About everything."

"Remember mine has to be herbal," she called to him as he was scuttling around the kitchen. "What are you worried about, darling? I'm okay!" She was healing up. They had taken the bandages off of her burns and though her wrists were permanently hold the scars of the chains she had had on her wrists, the rest of the burns had been less severe and they were healing up without any massive scarring.

"Where do I start," David grumbled darkly. He put the tea on the dining table, along with the scones, and leaned on the back of the dining chair. "I am worried that my disputes with John and Sebastian may affect my or my brothers' relationships. I am worried that I am doing things wrong, constantly. I am worried that there is something wrong with me that I cannot just forgive and forget. I am worried something else might happen to you or the twins. I worry- I worry about whether there will be a fire and the whole building goes up! I am constantly worrying, all the time, about everything." He couldn't sit and drink his tea. He drummed his fingers against the back of the chair.

Bridget moved up to the table but she didn't touch her tea yet. "Darling David, we never know what's going to happen in the future. That's the way life always is! You aren't responsible for your brother's relationships. If there's a fire, you can carry me down the stairs. And our babies are going to be fine."

"But- but-" David spluttered, then pushed away from the table to pace a few steps. "I blame you, you know. I never used to worry this much before you." It was meant as a joke, but it came out a little half-hearted. He tried to find the words to express what was really bothering him.

"I- I'm not- the things that some people seem to think I am. The things I am representative of- I preach forgiveness and tolerance. I am torn between the old ways of the Catholics and the progressiveness of the Episcopalian Anglicans. All I ask of people is that they love and tolerate their fellow man. I used to preach abstinence from meat and beer, yes, but those were different times... I also used to make hills grow so all the people could hear me, and make springs flow forth where there was nothing before, and I don't do those things any more, if I even could." He tugged at his hair, still pacing. He should have prayed this out weeks ago. "Does it bother you that I live a more austere life?" he asked Bridget, turning to look at her.

Bridget arched her eyebrow at him and she very nearly reminded him she didn't get tortured before him either and at very high volume, but she managed to reign in her anger. The war in her emotions probably showed in her face.

"Dewi, I love you; everything about you. Of course it doesn't bother me. You can abstain from meat and alcohol all you want, as long as you don't abstain from me. No one else has the right to tell you how to live. And when I look at you, all I see is love."

David saw that she was unimpressed and dropped his gaze, uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I just haven't been so frightened in my life and I reacted rashly. Even when I went to the Morrigna for Patrick..." He pursed his lips. "I let my vulnerability open myself up to criticism and personal hurt and I haven't been able to... close up again. I think." If that was the word for it. He thought about the argument and almost scowled, the sting still felt.

"John calls me flat out wrong, and narcissistic and ignorant that I don't immediately change to his way of thinking. I know my scripture! He wasn't even a disciple! He was preaching different things to Christ! What makes his belated interpretation any better than two thousand years of refinement, and dozens of other saints? Francis of Assisi, Justinian, Agatha! Why am I the fool?" He clenched and unclenched his fists. "And Sebastian and his half-baked, general apology. Never mind that he called me oppressive, among other things. Personal insults! I would not have expected such things from a fellow saint! He mistook me, and blames me for mistaking him!" He shook his head. The bitterness weighed heavily on him. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, trying to find some calm. "Lord, grant me strength. I know I am being petty and unforgiving."

Some of that went over Bridget's head because she wasn't really aware of who all the people he was mentioning were. She did not appreciate her husband being called names at all, and she had no idea what the argument between the men had even been about. It was all faith to her.

"You are not a fool, Dewi. And whatever their opinions, they are just their opinions. Why does it matter what they think? Just try to be a good man, which you are. Isn't that what you are supposed to do, lead by example? So set a better example than the bickering and name calling. Be the bigger man. I know you are capable of it."

David sighed. "You are right, of course. I just don't understand why Sebastian fears me because I am part Catholic and representative of them. By that logic, he should fear almost every saint he knows. I am not homophobic, I am just not sold on the marriage idea." He shook his head. After a moment, he went back to Bridget and pulled the chair to sit down next to her.

"There is one thing. I chose not to tell you before because you were so hurt and afraid." He took one of her hands in his and spoke gently. "After you passed out, when we got you back, Lucifer said that we had bargained for your safety, not that of the twins. He implied that he would come after them later. Please forgive me for not telling you sooner, I just... worried." He half smiled a little for a moment. "But now Sebastian made some sort of bargain. He said that they would be okay. I don't know what he did or if it will hold, but... perhaps it will be okay."

Bridget raised her eyebrows as David informed her he had kept information from her. "Right- David, if there is something that affects our children you need to tell me right away, alright? Don't ever keep anything like that from me again." She firmed her grip on his hands.

"But I'm not angry with you. Of course I forgive you. I understand why you did it. I'm not as fragile as all that, Dewi. We'll protect our kids, that's all we can do. I don't trust devils to keep any deal so it doesn't matter what Sebastian did. We will protect the twins as if the deal doesn't exist because it's likely it doesn't. But it's not more worry that anything else that could happen to them. And they happen to have a lot of immortal family so I think they have a better chance than most!"

"I know, I know. But sometimes you're so... mortal." David had to look away for a moment. He didn't like reminding her, or himself, of that. "I love you. I just want to keep you all safe. You can look after yourself, I know, but I can't help that I worry for you."

Bridget had to admit that was true because there was no denying it. "No, you can't help it. But you can stop it from taking over your life. Look around, just look at today. I am here in front of you and I am safe. We're warm and we have a roof over our heads. We have clean water and plenty of food, and money to buy more if we need it. There is nothing to worry about today, is there? This house is safe, I'm healing, the twins are kicking me in the spleen- Everything's fine. You're letting this worry keep you from seeing that. Take it at day at a time, my love, or you'll make yourself crazy. And I don't want to be married to a crazy saint. I want my wonderful and loving husband"

David knelt down in front of Bridget on the floor, and clasped both her her hands in his. "Will you pray with me?" he asked, looking up at her, then bending his head over their hands and closing his eyes. "Lord let me find peace and serenity in Thy Holy light. Give me the acceptance to let go of personal grievances and move on to understanding. Allow me to find joy in what I have, not despair in what I might lose. Lord, bless my wife- my Bridget- and carry her safely through her final trimester."

Bridget, who was very much a new fan of prayer since it had led her husband to her recently, still thought that maybe talking to someone who could answer back would be more helpful. Still, she did as David asked and she bowed her head. When he finished, she pulled his hands towards her and kissed them.

"Is there anything else I can do for you to make you feel better, Dewi? I don't want you wasting away from worry."

David finished with a reverential "Amen," then sat back and smiled at Bridget. "I don't think wasting away is a problem I am facing right now," he said, patting his belly. He got to his feet and at last returned to his warm tea, chewing on his scone thoughtfully. He glanced up at the ceiling as he chewed, his jaw slowing, then he stopped, his eyes going wide.

"Why didn't I think of it before!?" he exclaimed, and dashed out of the room to the nursery, and started rummaging through a box.

Bridget was quick to inform David she liked his belly, and she had been turning back to her own tea when David darted off like a startled squirrel.

"Dewi, what- You know I can't chase you!" she called after him, rolling away from the table and turning to at least attempt to follow him. "Were you done talking then?!"

David came back with a grin on his face and a box in his hands. "We can use the baby monitor," he said, pulling the box open. "That way we can contact each other, and if you need anything you can just call."

While Bridget was pleased that David looked happy about something, she wasn't entirely sure what he was getting at.

"We can use it for what, honey?"

"For when I'm on the roof. So I can make sure you can call me if you need me." David looked pleased with himself for thinking of it. He felt so much better for venting and letting go of that secret. He'd hated having it hanging over him.