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[shamrocked-.insanejournal.com]

WHO: George, Michael and Patrick probably eventually Raphael
WHAT: Fussing over George
WHEN: Early Monday morning? After this at any rate.
WHERE: Eventually in George and Patrick's apartment.
WARNINGS: Aftermath of torture



Patrick had been at Clio's, though he wasn't sleeping. He was exhausted in every way, but he started up at her dim ceiling and he hoped. And then his phone went off and Patrick yelped before jumping to answer it. It was a text from Michael. He had George. He was bringing him home.

After a quick goodbye (and several kisses) to Clio, Patrick ran out the door to his car without even putting his shoes on. He was home in record time and he even managed to beat Michael and George. He sort of moved all the clutter under the coffee table and made George's bed all ready for him.

He was not prepared for George's appearance. Michael kicked at the door and Patrick swung it open to find George more bloodied than he had ever seen him. At least, in so far as he remembered. Patrick swallowed roughly and then he went without being asked to microwave some soup and fetch some water.

Michael placed George in his bed and went to call his brother. He could heal George somewhat, but Raphael would do so far better than he. "Stay awake, George," Michael cautioned him before he stepped out of the room to leave a message for his brother.

Patrick rushed in with a glass of water. "Oh, Georgie." His lip wibbled, but he refused to cry yet. "Here, You need to drink. Do you need me to help you?"

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[monster-slayer.insanejournal.com]

A sharp laugh escaped before George could stop it. It was not totally sane.

"Yeah, I saw her. Lucifer got a two for one deal." George closed his eyes and reached up to hold Patrick's hand. "We were both idiots."

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"No," Patrick shook his head, incredibly disturbed by that laugh. The last time George had been like that, he had hid in his apartment for days and talked about shadows getting him or something. Not that hiding for days wouldn't be the best thing right now.

"George, you were trying to protect each other. Both of you." Or so he assumed on Wrath's part. He had delivered her the letter and if she had disappeared after that, it made sense. "You're not idiots for wanting to do that."

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"She told me she kind of loved me," George said. He reached out and tugged at Patrick's sleeve, trying to pull his brother onto the bed. He wanted to huddle next to someone, damn it. "And this is what it got her."

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Patrick was quite willing to crawl into bed beside his brother, especially after missing the other man and freaking out about his safety for days.

He wrapped his arms around his brother and just hoped it wasn't going to hurt him. "George, this isn't your fault. This is Satan and Lucifer's faults. You- You can't blame yourself, okay? Look at everything else you give to her! She's happier, George. And she will be again." Patrick knew Wrath telling George that was a big deal but he didn't want to react to it if George wasn't going to talk about it first.

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George curled up around Patrick and closed his eyes, breathing in the scents of his room and his brother and his home. He was home, he was going to be all right. He just had to make himself believe it.

But Wrath, she was still there, she was still-

"The Sins!" George hissed, trying to sit up and utterly failing. He clawed at the air. "They need to know she's still there."

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"Oh shi-" Patrick jumped and he reached out to touch George's shoulder. "Lie down! I'll get you a phone or a laptop or something, just rest, okay! We'll tell them, just a second!" Patrick jumped off the bed and he retrieved his phone so George could post something to the sins. Then he went back and curled up on the bed again.

"Do you want me to do this, or are you fingers okay enough to do it yourself?"

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"I can do it," George said, meticulously typing a message out. His arms were in terrible shape, but his fingers were mostly intact, especially after Michael's help.

That done, he lay back on the bed next to Patrick, eyes closed. "Y'know, I was kind of hoping to avoid this little Hell civil war if I just went instead of Wrath. I figured no one would end up as collateral damage that way. And now I just hope they burn Lucifer to the fucking ground. Does that make me a bad person?"

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"No, it really doesn't," Patrick said quietly. He snuggled into his brother and he reached out for George's hand again. "I want him to burn for what he did to you too."

Michael stepped back inside with a bowl of applesauce and another of broth. "You need to eat."

"Do you want help with that too?" Patrick asked carefully.

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"Yeah, probably," George said, letting himself be propped up. "Tell me if I'm inhaling this, I don't want to eat too fast and throw up."

He knew he wasn't going to have much self-control once his body realized that there was actually food and he could have it. He reached for the applesauce, hoping the bland flavor wouldn't trigger quite as big of a 'must eat now, eat everything' reaction.

"So. Um. I'm sorry."

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Patrick sat, waiting to slow George down if it was needed. He didn't really want to do so, but he would.

Michael patted George's shoulder gently and said, "you are always forgiven," before leaving the room again.

Patrick watched him go and then he let out a breath. "George, as much as I would rather you not have gotten hurt, I'm not mad at you. I very nearly did the same thing."

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"Yeah, about that," George said, looking at Patrick fondly. "Don't do that. Ever. Okay? I can't...seeing you being hurt over something that you weren't even involved in would have killed me."

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Patrick nodded and he leaned in to kiss George's hair. "Clio said much the same thing and I am not going to break that promise. George, do you...need to talk about what happened there? I can listen." He didn't so much want to hear, but George had listened to him go on and on about the things he had suffered so he was hardly going to refuse to listen to George now. "While you eat of course. Slowly."

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"I don't know," George said. He slurped more of his applesauce. It was the best applesauce he'd ever tasted. "Yes? No? The Antichrist tortured me for a while. He wasn't very good at it."

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Patrick kissed George's hair again. "I wish-" He licked his lips and then he gave up trying to find words. "I don't know what I wish, but I'm sorry. The Antichrist is a prick. I saw what he was saying to Wrath the other day."

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"Wrath has the worst bosses in the world," George said, putting the spoon down as a wave of nausea hit him. His stomach hadn't quite adjusted to food yet. "I wish I could save her from that."

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"She is who she is," Patrick said, patting George's shoulder. He wished he could save George from what he was going through now. "But she really does. She'll be okay though. She's tough as nails."

If Patrick had known Wrath had been crucified in front of George, he probably wouldn't have said that.

[monster-slayer.insanejournal.com]

That wrung another not-quite-sane laugh out of George, and he thumped his head back against the walls.

"No metaphors about nails or fire for a while, okay?" George asked. He reached for more of the applesauce."

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Patrick grimaced and he reached out to try to stop George hurting himself before his hand fell short. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't know. But uhm...what I meant still stands. She's strong. And she says she loves you. That is pretty big stuff for her."

[monster-slayer.insanejournal.com]

George opened his mouth to tell Patrick that he'd sort of told Wrath he loved her too, but couldn't get the words out. Maybe it would be easier when Wrath was back. For now, it felt like something he had to keep secret, something that had to stay in that room between them.

"Sins say they're gonna get her back," George said. "...I don't know if I like them."

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"They are kind of...sin-like," Patrick admitted. "But of course they'll get her back. I wouldn't want to be on their bad side. She'll be safe soon, alright? And you're safe now. And I love you. You're going to be okay." He needed George to be okay. "Should I be distracting? I can be distracting or- or I can listen more?"

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"Turn the TV on?" George suggested. The little TV across from his bed would be distraction enough. "I'm gonna sleep and I don't want to be alone so could you stay?"

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"Of course," Patrick jumped up to flick the television on and then he curled up beside his brother again. "I love you, okay? And you didn't do anything wrong. And I'm so glad you're home." He wrapped his arms around George and planned not to leave his side until George said.