The roof had become Connor's place to go when he needed to get away from the rest of the world. He'd discovered the cathartic feel of the space in the aftermath of the L train crash and he hadn't looked back since. There was something about looking over the Chicago skyline that resonated deep with in him. Sometimes it seemed like you had the world at your feet and other times, he thought it was the distance of it all. Up here you were abstract from everything else in the world, all the sorrow and the grief that went on downstairs couldn't touch you. On the roof he was exactly who he wanted or needed to be in that moment, it was up here that he could finally allow himself to feel.
That ache was in his chest, it was like a fist clenching his heart as he tried to swallow against the well of emotion building in his throat. He'd lost patients before but today was different, he'd never had to watch the life drain out of a baby. He had seen some shitty things in his life but watching Timmy's last breathes was comparatively the worst. He had no idea how the hell Natalie did it, day in and day out.
That grief was overwhelming him, he could feel that tingle in his shoulders as his body tried to fight against it compulsively. His skilled hands balled into fists, his knuckles white as he pressed them to his eye sockets trying to stave off the stinging sensation in his eyes.
Rhodes do not cry, his father's emotionless voice rang in his head.
It echoed acutely in the recesses of his mind, pulsating violently like a tumor. It had taken years to shed some of the emotional damage that his father had bestowed upon him, there were still tidbits though that he had never been able to get rid of and he wasn't sure he ever could. Logically he knew that crying was a healthy emotional response despite being told it was a sign of weakness throughout the duration of his childhood. However he still battled it, he still tried to force it down before the feeling consumed him.
The sob wracked his entire body. He could feel the sheer force of it vibrate through his sternum as the agony crashed into him like a tidal wave, dragging him under. His palms came to rest upon the cold, steel hand rail clutching onto it tightly in a bid to hold himself up as he sucked in a deep, shaky breath. The salty tears trailed down his cheeks relentlessly as his heart broke, his control slipping away from him.
A soothing hand came to rest on his right shoulder, clasping it tightly. Connor didn't need to turn his head to know that it was Ethan, after the other night he would know that man's presence anywhere. A sense of shame filled him and he found himself wanting to apologise, to tell the other man that he wasn't this weak, pathetic person but he simply couldn't find the breath. Ethan used the grip on Connor's shoulder to turn the other man's body towards him. One look at those haggard, tear stained features of his was enough to break his heart. He could see the that acute pain inside of Connor, the torment that he was being forced to bear because he couldn't let himself fall apart. In that moment Ethan saw himself all those months ago, drowning in a sea of an uncomprehending darkness. He wondered who had broken the other man, who had taught him to stifle those emotions and hide them from the world.
His expression softened, his hand grasped the back of Connor's neck, firmly guiding him into the shelter of his comforting embrace. Connor needed someone in his corner right now, someone who understood what it was like to bury those emotions deep down within you. Someone to tell him it wasn't a weakness to feel, it wasn't a failure to admit that you were hurting so badly that sometimes it crippled you.
"Stop fighting it." he whispered into Connor's ear, his thumb lightly stroking that space, the one just behind the other man's ear lobe. "Just let go."
Connor sagged against him, his entire body trembling as his nimble hands slipped underneath the fabric of Ethan's water resistant jacket and grasped the fabric of his burgundy scrubs tightly. Ethan could feel Connor's hot breath on his collarbone as the other man buried his face into the crook of his neck. The tears were coming thick and fast, sinking through the material of his scrubs as Connor's vulnerable form shuddered, an anguished sound ripped from his throat.
"I got you." Ethan murmured, his other hand rubbing, slow soothing circles along the rigid planes of Connor's muscular back. "I got you."
