Patrick P.O.V.
"Come on, baby. You can do this," Elisa said, gently gripping my shoulder.
We were sat at our dining room table, my arm on the shiny brown wood. I was trying to move it, or even get my fingers to wiggle. So far, I hadn't been successful.
"I'm trying, Lis," I grunted.
I told my arm to move, I tried so hard I felt a thin layer of sweat breaking out on my forehead and upper lip. But my discolored arm remained still.
Elisa ran her hands along my forearm, being careful to avoid the bandage from the more recent burns. I willed my hand to grab hers, to show her that I loved her, but my arm remained still.
I breathed out and said, "Fuck it, Elisa. I can't."
She shook her head. "Baby, I believe in you. I think you can do this. Try, Patrick. Try to grab my hand," she said, placing her hand out on the table.
My brain sent signals to my arm, willing it, begging it to move. Even a wiggling finger would be a breakthrough at this point.
Come on I said to myself. You pathetic little... Move your arm
My fingers didn't curl like I wanted them too. I banged my good hand on the table with a fist. I grunted and stood up, pushing the chair back. "Lis, this is hopeless," I said pitifully, walking into the living room.
I collapsed onto the couch face first. I heard Elisa's light steps running into the room, then a deep sigh when she saw me. She walked over and sat on the arm of the couch. Her delicate hand patted my head and her silky voice found its way to my ears. "Patrick, honey, no one said this was going to be easy. You're probably not going to get it the first time."
I pushed myself up and looked at her. She had genuine hope shining in her eyes. I felt bad I couldn't give her the same look. "Lis, you don't know what it's like not to be able to do something as simple as move your arm. Someone may have basically cut it off," I mumbled.
Elisa slid onto the couch next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. She patted my shoulder and said, "Baby, do you realize you're lucky not to have lost your arm? When Andy called me, he said you were close to losing your arm. You have to at least realize that you very well couldn't have an arm right now. I know it can't be easy, but just give it a little bit of time before you completely give up. I know you, Patrick. I know you can do this, Hell, you died and you got through that alive, strange as it sounds. Just please, don't give up hope. I believe in you, so does Pete, Andy, Joe, and the fans."
I nodded into her neck. I heard a noise to my left and saw the gate to Declan's little play pin crash down. Before I could react, his small body came crawling towards us. His little body waddled in our direction and his head was in a direct line with our coffee table. Our coffee table with sharp corners.
Something inside me sparked and my discolored, burnt arm shot up and caught his head before it could hit the table. I grabbed him with my other hand and brought his small body into my lap.
I sat there, shocked for a moment. Neither Elisa nor I moved for a solid minute before she jumped up and shouted, "Patrick, you--!"
"I know!" I shouted, jumping up and wrapping my arm that wasn't holding Declan around her petite waist.
I then felt my bad arm holding Declan weaken. I had to strain to keep him up while saying, "Lis, babe, grab Declan!"
She pulled away from me and grabbed our son before my arm went limp again. I frowned and looked up. Declan was looking at me with an amused expression and Elisa looked sad.
"Well, I guess I'm a one-hit wonder," I sighed before sitting retreating back into our room.
I closed the door and laid down face first on the bed. I finally impressed Elisa, I finally did something good, but I couldn't even keep it up for a minute. God, why am I so pathetic?
I stayed like that for several minutes before getting up and stumbling into a t-shirt and tugging my jeans off. I slumped into bed and, before I knew it, I drifted into a fitful sleep.
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a/n
i know it's a bit boring right now, but scary stuff happening next chapter
