Perseverance (The Resident FF) by Frances51163

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO: Visiting Tom

There was something about cemeteries and rain Conrad thought as he stood before Toms' grave unmoved by the heavy droplets descending from dull grey skies which threatened more to come.   Jude, as was his role it seemed, insisted on accompanying him this morning but again was left at the gates.  Conrad had spent half an hour convincing the man that he was quite fine enough to go to the graveyard.   Of course Jude had been referring to his physical wellbeing.  The injured man was more concerned about his emotional wellbeing.  To that end he had tried to dissuade the Surgeon from travelling with him but had, as usual, lost the argument.  Whereas Conrad had been glad of the other mans' presence when he visited the three fresh graves in Texas this was a totally different situation.  He wasn't sure when the tears had begun to fall but they mingled with the raindrops cascading down his face.   To think that the kind man had gone in to save two people who were not inside seemed a particularly cruel twist of fate to the Resident.  Of course he knew life could be incredibly cruel at times.   He had often wondered as he grew older why some people seemed to get more than their fair share of pain and suffering.  He could understand that life passed in increments of joy and suffering.  It was funny how people more easily remembered the painful times rather than the joyful ones.  Maybe it was because it was with the benefit of hindsight that one acknowledged the good times represented by the simple joys of life through love or work.  Basic things which gave pleasure were often overlooked in this busy world.   No wonder time passed quickly.  People went about their daily lives as a matter of routine, many never experiencing trauma or aggression which could irrevocably change a persons' life. Conrad was only human and although many of his friends had let him know over the years, especially Nic, that they considered him to be stoic he disagreed.  He may not complain about the hard hand he was dealt as the son of Marshall Hawkins and heir to the Hawkins' empire but he did feel discontent, even if it was only internally.   He had accepted long ago that some people breezed through life and others encountered many obstacles.

The decision to become a Doctor of internal medicine had been born out of a need to break down the injuries his father dealt out thereby enabling him to look at same in a clinical manner and allowing him to put some distance between them and his feelings. Building up an indifferent attitude to what his father did by using the clinical attachment he had honed after many years gave him a coat of armour, like in the stories his mentor had gleefully told him.  It was like a shield against the outside world.  His friends knew some of what his father had done but he still could not bear to tall them of the injuries. The fair haired man had been surprised the Psychiatrist had not pursued that possibility although Conrad had denied the one question on the subject.  Just as well he thought as he absently rubbed the healing wound on his left arm.  He had told Jude and Mike that he had started cutting himself as a means to relieve the pressure he was under and that was the truth.  What they didn't know was that his father had actually stabbed him with a scissors one day in a rage.  Luckily the scar was not easily seen as it was actually under his left armpit and had faded to a thin white jagged line over the years.  In fact unless one was looking for it they would skip over it without a second glance.  The wound was in such an incongruous place because his father had been about to stab him in the shoulder but he had turned to get away from the weapon and instead had felt the pain under his arm.  It had bled quite a bit but eventually the bleeding had tapered off and he had cleaned and dressed it himself.  To this day he could clearly remember the rage emblazoned on his paternal parents' features and all that he had done to give rise to the attack was ask when his mother was coming back.  A flash of lightning across the skies made him eye the black marbled gravestone again.   Tom had been the father he wanted, the father he needed and he had been responsible for his death, whatever his friends said. Logically Conrad knew that the kind man would have gone into the burning house whether or not he had said anything but he would always carry some guilt with him.  As a child he had wondered what he had ever done to deserve the father he got but by the time the fire consumed his home and took his friend he had learnt to accept lifes' cruel ways.   The time he had spent with Alicia and her husband would always be remembered with happiness tinged with sadness.   He hadn't known as a young child but those were the best years of his life.   The cruel reality of his existence had been tempered with love and that love had sustained him through the many hard times.   Watching raindrops create a waterfall over the engraved stone the young man decided such a sight was apt for they represented the tears unshed as a child, the tears unshed all these years ...... until now.  Tom was a patient, gentle man and although he never lived to know it his friendship towards the small child of the house had instilled a need to give kindness and care to others.   As a mentor no one could have competed with the man.   Bringing up a hand to swipe away the tears he shook his head angrily.   Tears did nothing to ease the pain.   He wanted irrationally to go back in time and spend more days with the father of his dreams.   As thunder roared he wanted a chance to thank the man who meant so much to him but knew such an act was out of his reach.   All these years he had avoided this place.  Avoided it because deep down he had known the man was gone forever.

Of course Conrad knew that graves weren't really for the dead, they were for the living. A place for people to visit to talk to departed loved ones.   Whatever souls were once housed in the remains underground however had long since left the requisite bleak environment.   He looked around at other graves and saw wilting flowers betraying the long intervals between visits.   He himself had bought a simple arrangement comprising of orange and white lillies, Toms' favourite flower, Alicia had informed him when asked. The strong scent had brought back long forgotten memories of hazy Savannah afternoons helping Tom with the gardening chores in between maintenance jobs.   Looking back as an adult Conrad understood the patience the man had shown a lonely child.     The mansion was large and there were always things that needed to be dealt with.  The gardening chores on top meant Tom worked hard yet somehow in the midst of his hectic work days he had spent time with the boy of the house, never hinting he would work past finishing time to make up for time lost.   Yet Conrad realized now that he must have worked many extra hours as a result of keeping him company.

Shaking his head after one final glance at the lillies, now heavy with droplets of water, he decided to leave knowing that the visit had not changed anything.   He would convince Jude all was okay and go back to Atlanta where his future lay and his past could be pushed to the back of his mind, where it belonged.   After all he was good at putting on an act and he would continue to do so.

tbc