It's the middle of the night and FP is tossing and turning in bed trying to get some shut eye.
But it's no use. He sits up drenched in sweat and heavily breathing. It's not the first time he has woken up in this state, but he was hoping it would stop being an issue while he stayed here. He doesn't want the others to know about this. He was doing great the past few weeks. No one has said anything about it.
He rubs his hands across his face. He can't stop hyperventilating. He breathes in and breathes out, but his heart is still racing.
He grabs the hem of his shirt and tosses it to the floor. It feels damp from all the sweating.
He jolts up from bed and paces back and forth. His hands rest on the back of his neck as he tries to calm himself down. It's not working.
He walks up the stairs and tries to find the kitchen in the dark. He stumbles over one of Charles's toys. He picks it up and puts it aside.
He continues towards the kitchen, pours himself a glass of cold water, and turns to the sink to splash a bit of water onto his face to cool himself down.
He hovers over the sink, silently sobbing away the dreadful memories keeping him up tonight.
"FP?" He hears someone gently calling his name.
FP shuts the faucet and stays still. He does not want to turn around and face her.
"Are you alright?" Alice asks, genuinely concerned. When she came down from bed to grab a glass of water she wasn't expecting to run into company.
"Go away," He doesn't want her to see him like this.
"Is there anything-"
"Go away," He demands firmly. He then realizes he sounds a bit harsh. "...please." He begs.
Alice turns on her heels and makes her way up the stairs. She peers around the corner to check on him one last time before going back to bed.
FP waits until he can't hear her anymore before he walks back to the basement, taking the glass with him.
He knows the water won't be enough and knowing that is what he's afraid of. There's only one thing that makes him feel better, but it does him no good. It's only a temporary fix to make him feel numb.
He ditches the water and looks for his bag. He digs deep inside and pulls out a flask full of whiskey. It has been untouched for so long, and he hates what he's about to do.
+++
By the morning FP is the first to emerge into the kitchen for breakfast. He sits at the table with his head in his hands. The headache is killing him. He wasn't able to down the toast on his plate.
He's startled when he learns that he isn't alone anymore. He flinches when Fred lays a hand on his shoulder.
FP swats his hand away and relaxes when he turns to see it was just Fred. "Jeez, don't sneak up on a man like that."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Fred apologizes. "You okay?"
"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a little sleepy." More so hungover from drinking himself to sleep.
"I'm surprised you're not sleeping in. We don't have to go into the office today."
"I know. I think I could use a power nap. Maybe a nice cold shower will help, or even a quick walk around the block."
"I've got to walk the dogs. Maybe I'll join you."
FP nods and rushes back to his makeshift room. He brushes past Alice on his way. They lock eyes for a brief second before he picks up his pace.
YOU ARE READING
You Can't Hurry Love
Fanfiction{COMPLETE} After six years in the army, FP has nothing to his name but a bus ticket back to the town he bitter sweetly calls home. He reaches out to his long time best friend, Fred Andrews, for some help shortly after he gets to town and is labeled...
