Just Off the Key of Reason

Chapter Twenty One - I Could Be Him

Monday, 9th of July, 2007 – Kansas City, Missouri

As Patrick had expected, he was awoken the following morning by the sounds of someone violently throwing up in his hotel bathroom. It was still fairly early, only the slightest hints of light were filtering in from the balcony window. They had a show today, that much he remembered. The rest was taking its sweet time to return to his memory. His brain took a few moments to recall the events of last night as he rose to his feet, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. She had woken him up a few times throughout their sleep, tossing and turning and muttering about 'something important', though she'd never remembered exactly what that was. He listened carefully at the door, knocking lightly on it.

"You all right?" He called, his hand hovering above the handle in hesitation. When he didn't get a reply he pushed the – thankfully unlocked – door open. She was slumped across the toilet seat, her arms either side of her head, her face mostly obscured by her hair. His instant reaction was to pull her hair back from the danger zone, quickly grabbing it into a messy ponytail and tucking it into the collar of her shirt so that it wouldn't fall forward again. She looked up at him at the contact.

"Hey, Pat." She mumbled, having to squint at him in the darkness of the bathroom.

"Hey. How're you doing?" He asked, the concern evident in his voice.

"Fantastic." She answered sarcastically. He let out a snort of laughter as he grabbed the plastic cup by the sink, filling it with water and handing it to her.

"Here. Might help." She took it gratefully, but drank it far too quick. The instant impact on her throat only caused her to lose what little remained in the contents of her stomach.

Patrick stayed in the dark bathroom, handing her glasses of water and offering soothing touches when required. After about half an hour it seemed that the nausea had mostly passed. "So, did you remember what that super important thing was that made you barge in here at two in the morning?" He asked casually as he grabbed a cloth and ran it under cold water.

"Important thing?" She asked in confusion, frowning.

He handed the damp cloth to her. "You said you'd come to a decision about something, but never said what." He shrugged. She stared up at him as she ran through last night in her head. It came back bit by bit, and eventually she found a furious blush spreading across her cheeks. She was suddenly incredibly thankful that he hadn't turned the light on yet.

"No." She lied, wiping her face down with the cloth as an excuse not to have to meet his gaze.

He let out a huff of air. "Oh well." He sighed. "At least it was my room you stumbled into, not anyone else's." He laughed.

"I'm gonna get ready. We've got a show tonight. Give me a shout if you need me." She watched him as he straightened a few items on the counter before he left the bathroom. When she was sure he wasn't coming back in for a while, she let out the breath she had been holding. She rested her forehead on the cool porcelain below her and let out a low groan. Half out of pain from her hangover, half out of frustration. Truthfully, she remembered perfectly well why she had seen it fit to burst into his hotel room after binge drinking with Pete. And stumbling into his room had been no accident after he'd mentioned his room number to her earlier that day when they were given their keys. At the time, she had thought it would be an excellent idea to ask him on a date for when they were back in Chicago. In hindsight, doing that while she was drunk was probably not the best idea. Patrick deserved better than that. But her current state wasn't really any better either. With her head in his toilet bowl and him bring forced to take care of her, it hardly seemed like the time or place to admit that. She would have to wait.