lovesguinness: (Bad day hands)
Detective Euan Fitzpatrick ([personal profile] lovesguinness) wrote2009-12-18 06:39 pm

[livejournal.com profile] musesandlyrics | 4.22. Beck lyrics

4.22. Something always takes the place
Of missing pieces
You can take and put together even though
You know there's something missing

Missing - Beck

Euan and Virginia pretty much spent the duration of the drive from Heathrow Airport into London city centre in silence. Euan was starting to feel like he had been hit by one of the red double-decker buses that kept passing by, and as they got further and further into London, he lost the ability to actually speak because of the lump that had formed in his throat. This was harder than he had anticipated, so he was relieved Vee didn't push him beyond quiet checks now and again that he was okay. He wasn't. She knew he wasn't, and he didn't need to vocalise it. The nods he gave her were just reassurances he wasn't about to jump back on the next plane home to New York. He was here now, may as well face the demons.


But he was exhausted and the jet-lag mixed with anxiety just made him want to crawl into bed - any bed - to sleep it off. They got into Vee's other half's place around eight pm after battling with the evening traffic, but the bloke was already in bed, practically comatose. Thoughtfully, a note was left on the kitchen counter for her apologising that he couldn't stay up because he was knackered. A note that proved the guy was chivalrous or courteous or whatever the fuck qualities Vee thought he had that Euan didn't. Euan merely scrunched his nose up and indicated he wasn't bothered either way that he had to wait to meet the bloke. He was trying to cover his emotional distress by being a bastard, which was something he always did so well. Being in London, and trying to deal with the fact Vee - the person who meant the most to him in the whole world - had slipped away out of his life, it was all taking it's toll.

The apartment was great. Not that he expected anything less. It wasn't huge, but it was modern and neat, in a nice area. Kind of stark, like a typical bachelor pad would be. It made Euan's apartment back in New York look like a brothel. All he did was follow when Vee showed him to the spare room. He fought the urge to just crawl into the bed and pass out, but he held off long enough to take a shower in an attempt to stop feeling so crap. She did try to feed him after it, offering him leftovers or a quick trip to the chip shop, both of which he declined. They stood together in the small kitchen, Vee by the sink and Euan leaning on the breakfast bar in just a loose pair of old track pants and a tight t-shirt while he sipped down a glass of aspirin. The thought of more booze made his gut churn. Fuck, he really was off his game. Things were kept quiet, Vee concerned about waking Matt, who slept on in the master bedroom next door. There was a bit of small talk with Euan lethargically pulling the piss out of the kitchen decor and commenting how shite the weather was, before he just kissed her cheek and disappeared up the hall into the guest room, and closed himself inside to give himself some solitude.

This time, Euan finally did crawl into the bed between the clean sheets that smelt like some expensive fabric softener. He turned the light off and despite being exhausted, found himself staring at the brightly illuminated numbers of the digital clock telling him it was 10pm when his brain was still on New York time and thought it was 5pm. He didn't know how long he laid there staring at the clock until the numbers started to blur when his eyes filled with tears. He was in the place that took his parents away from him, and he missed them so much right now that all he could do was indulge in one of those rare moments where his abrasiveness and arrogance fell away in favour of a good cry for them.


[livejournal.com profile] nychandcuffs and [livejournal.com profile] mattdevlin used with permission


Word Count | 667

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