fandom_clinic | FTEC - Wednesday Day Shift [11/8]

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FTEC - Wednesday Day Shift [11/8]

Wilson was a little late opening the clinic today due to a case of the dithers. He hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, at least not beyond a few fitful dozes and had eventually given up and gotten up before the sun was even considering peeking it’s nose over the horizon.

Standing in the shower for almost an hour, he let his mind replay the two scenes from a year ago over and over again. It was a little humorous, in a dark and morbid way, to remember that it had been Angelus and Belthazor who had sent him back to Aziraphale in the first place, needing to talk without, actually saying anything.

A conversation that had gone well enough but which had lead to Wilson’s returning to the shop later and seeing for the first time ever, Aziraphale’s wings. Broken and nearly inconsolable over the loss of Crowley, Aziraphale was right, it had been the first image that stuck with Wilson for so long and drove him to be so protective of the angel in their rather unconventional relationship.

Cooking up a storm, Wilson had left all sorts of breakfast yummies in the kitchen for Aziraphale and Angel to enjoy as they might wish, before finally packing himself up and heading for the clinic. A route that got turned around by a brief stop just outside the old bookshop, at least it was supposed to be brief. An hour later, hair soaked by the light misting rain, Wilson finally shook himself and headed on down the street to the clinic.

Opening the place up, he was pleased to find the place empty and after getting the coffee pot started, he sat down at the desk. It was his intention to pull out his laptop and do some work. Strangely enough he found himself simply sitting there, staring at the clinic wall, reliving images over a year old.

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It wasn't as though Wilson could dither about the apartment, spend an hour showering, and then cook his heart out in the kitchen without the angel noticing. But there were times for offering companionship, and times for leaving a person with his thoughts, and this morning had been the latter. After the young doctor left for the clinic, Aziraphale had emerged from the bedroom, spending a good deal of time appreciating the wonderful breakfast and forcing himself not to fret.

That wasn't really going to work for very long, though, and eventually he'd put together a care package of Moroccan mint tea, gingersnaps, and crossword puzzles, then walked the long way down to the clinic. He arrived close to an hour after Wilson did, and stood in the doorway watching the man for a long while before entering.

"Some anniversaries are easier to celebrate than others," he said softly, finally walking up to the desk and setting down his package. "But they're all meant to be celebrated together."

Caught up in a wave of memories, Wilson didn't even realize Aziraphale had entered the clinic till the angel spoke.

Dark eyes slid towards the lean masculine form and the young doctor's hand slid down from where it was covering his mouth so that he could give his lover a little smile.

"Hey. Didn't expect to see you down here today." He said softly, sitting up and automatically making room on the desk for Phale to deposit the care package.

"Every once in a while, I try to be unpredictable," Aziraphale replied with a gentle smile. He knew full well what day it was, and what happened a year ago. And the memories felt raw for him as well, but they were softened by the added memory of a caring visitor who had already begun to be a dear friend.

"I brought you some biscuits, love. And your breakfast was delightful." The angel leaned across the desk and brushed a light kiss to Wilson's cheek before taking a seat and opening up the thermos of tea.

Sitting quietly, Wilson nuzzled back towards Phale in response to the cheek kiss, then reached for the fragrant, warm tea. His dark eyes held a far away look in them as he cradled the mug in his hands.

"It's not just...I mean, it's you...of course...but the memories, it's also bringing back what was going on with House, Angelus, Belthazor, Beka...all leading up towards..."

He paused and took a sip of the tea, as if trying to calm himself down.

Aziraphale nodded. He knew the memories of what had happened to him were still hard for Wilson to deal with. But they both needed to, if they were going to move on from it.

"James love...I know, it was a horrible thing for you to go through. Not just coming into the shop and finding me ill, and Crowley in despair. But...the entire episode, everything that happened. I know we've always disagreed even, on whether or not it was the right thing to do. But perhaps it isn't very different than what you see in your work. I was dying, but I recovered, and now I'm well. Better than well, because I have you now. I know it isn't enough to take away the pain of everything that happened, but..."

He shook his head and frowned, finding himself at a loss for what to say. Aziraphale never had been very good at giving advice when it involved himself.

Wilson reared back and in the next moment he was on his feet and pacing.

“A terrible thing to go through?” He said softly before turning sharply and facing his lover.

“I’m mortal. Average Joe trying to get a handle on my own shattered life in a world beyond anything I could imagine. I find myself, in a contract with a demon (http://dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com/3555.html?thread=57315#t57315) and then before I have time to catch my breath all hell breaks loose (http://community.livejournal.com/fandom_clinic/46775.html) in my world.”

Wilson’s voice rose as he paced and spoke. “And I just manage to get my head above water and then, in a misguided attempt to find solace, I tell my lover what I’ve done and I nearly got smacked with a cane (http://dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com/3920.html?thread=85072#t85072) not to mention the emotional abuse heaped on my head and then, when I went deeper down the road towards begging for help because I was drowning I run into the scene that will haunt me (http://flash-serpent.livejournal.com/5427.html) till the day I die.”

By this point, Wilson was probably about as agitated and wound up as Phale had ever seen his lover, even in the face of demons, lunatics and other chaotic members of society.

“Then, after I stood there, knowing there was nothing I could do, even with Loz begging me to help you, I go home…and pick bullets out of a very confused vampire, all the while further abuse gets rained down on my head and then I get kicked out of my home to spend the cold night on a park bench with a demonic duck (http://dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com/4340.html).”

Wheeling around, hands into the act with a while flail Wilson stumbled over his words before flipping his fingers upwards towards the ceiling.

“You know, I think that Angel/Angelus and I could have a run off for who had the most trauma in one 48 hours period but at least at the end of the night he had a warm place to sleep and people who gave a fuck about him to take him in.”

Grabbing up the thermos, Wilson slammed it across the room into the wall. “So just…don’t sit there and try to feed me fucking platitudes about moving on past that weekend. GOD!” He snarled at the last, reaching up to grab the back of his neck, walking angrily across the small waiting room, a wounded animal trying to out distance a pain he could never escape.

Aziraphale sat and stared. Wilson had never erupted in that manner, had never shouted at him, or taken such a tone.

But it was entirely deserved. He had no idea what it could possibly have felt like. No way to sympathize or understand, nothing to compare to it.

"I'm sorry, James," he whispered. "You're right, I...there isn't anything I can do or say to make it better. I'm so sorry."

Tugging the edges of his labcoat around his slender form more tightly, as if trying to ward off the cold, Wilson lowered himself down into a small space between the wall and the uncomfortable plastic seats set up in the waiting room.

He didn't say anything but it was easy to tell the explosion, now spent, was over. Instead, he curled his knees up towards his chest and rested his forehead against his thighs. It reminded him of how he'd been on his knees, House crashing the cane into the dresser above him but he didn't care. He was set upon the path to relive that waking nightmare over and over until he could struggle through to the 20th and Aziraphale was right, there wasn't anything to be done about it.

"James..."

The angel was up out of his seat and on the floor next to Wilson in an instant. Wrapping his arms tightly around the young doctor, he pressed his cheek against the man's hair.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. Dear God, if I knew a way to undo it all... I'm so sorry."

There was one small part of Wilson that almost wanted to push Aziraphale away, to wallow in the suffering the memories had brought back to him but that little voice was quickly drowned out by the realization that though he had gone through it all alone last year, at least he didn't have to be alone this year.

Shakey fingers fisted into the angel's sweater as if to never let go and Wilson pressed himself up against Aziraphale's solid, living strength.

"It's almost a memory, I'd let you take from me." He whispered, though they both knew the words were false. Wilson would never ask for such a thing and though he knew Phale thought about it, he also trusted that the angel would never take such a step.

"I know it is, love," he whispered in reply, aching inside to see the pain the young doctor was suffering. Wilson was right, though -- Aziraphale wouldn't press the issue, and would never go against what he knew was the man's desire to keep his memories intact, no matter how horrifying they were.

"Let the nurses run the clinic today, and come home. Let me take care of you this time."

Still clinging tightly to the angel, Wilson shook his head.

"I can't." He said softly. "They need a doctor to be on duty."

Though he ached to go home, take another long hot shower and curl up under the covers and preen every last, glorious white feather in Aziraphale's broad wing span.

Aziraphale nodded. Duty came first, always. He settled to the floor next to the young doctor, pulling the man to lean against him.

"How long does your shift last?" he murmured. "I'll keep you company here, and then when we get home, I'll cook you some of my famous eggs and toast."

Nuzzling his head up under the angel's chin as he tended to do when he was feeling low and wanted comfort, Wilson hugged on Phale tightly.

"I'm here till 5. You mean, instead of sitting out in the mist watching the movie?" He asked, knowing how much Aziraphale enjoyed the old movies in the park and Wilson enjoyed the quiet evenings, cuddled together under a tartan blanket, enjoying the movie as well.

It was a difficult choice. The movies in the park were their time to do something normal, go out on a date, and put aside work and responsibility for a couple of hours. Aziraphale felt an urge to protect the young doctor, and for him that nearly always meant an urge to hide the man away from the world as well.

Doing something normal, that was meaningful to them as a couple, he decided, was the better choice.

"I'll cook for you after the movie, then?"

As was usual with Wilson, he was ready to hide away, to draw into himself and cuddle his pain close like and old and dear friend.

"How about, we go to the movie and see how things are afterwards? I didn't sleep much last night, I think I might just like to go to bed."

Which, truthfully might also help his stressed out mind, if he could physically get a decent night's rest.

"You're going to need to eat," the angel whispered, stroking Wilson's hair. "How about the movie, and then eggs and toast in bed, followed by a good night's sleep?"

Because although he'd never go against the young doctor's decision to retain his memories, Aziraphale was perfectly willing to help him along with a bit of sleep.

"Cheese?" Wilson asked in a hopeful tone, though he knew that he had only to wish it and his eggs would be scrambled with cheese.

Still, it felt nice to ask for something he knew he could be given and his body relaxed, molding itself against the angel's protective form.

"Two kinds," Aziraphale promised. "And wheatberry bread, fresh from the bakery."

He pressed his face into Wilson's hair, wishing he dared unfurl his wings here in the clinic, and wrap the young doctor in those as well.

Woe betide anyone who decided to bleed today.

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FTEC - Wednesday Day Shift [11/8]

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