You're Always You

Chapter Thirty-Nine

David Minett

David spent a good five minutes sobbing in his car before he went anywhere. Telling Lydia that he was sorry, that this was his fault, that he would set it right.

He'd known this would get harder the closer they got, but...fuck.

He was convinced that half of this was just...whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was messing with him. Putting such words in Lydia's mouth.

That was way too on the nose, okay.

When his eyes were clear again, he eventually got going, feeling composed enough to drive. It took strength to stay that way on the way home, but he managed. At least, until he got there, at which point he dropped his forehead on the steering wheel to get another bout out of his system. He knew his mother and sister were going to ask why he was crying now, and he didn't really want to have that conversation, but....

Well. Let's just say David had gotten painfully used to being out of control of his life.

So he went inside anyway. Dave wasn't sure he cared anymore about saving face. Because he'd been doing this for more than a week, and he was tired. He was sad. He wanted to go home already.

But he couldn't, because he wasn't done yet.

When he entered the door, he was somewhat surprised to already find his things put together and sitting in the living room. It was half of what he'd brought for Lydia, which might've said something, but it was...it.

"We figured we'd save you some...time...." Monica said upon her brother coming in, however her expression and tone quickly fell away seeing his red face. "....Davie, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, stepping forward to grab a few boxes. "Just....You wouldn't believe me if I told you, okay? Thanks for putting my stuff together...."

Monica remained where she sat, confused, but Mom followed after him. "David," she said, touching his shoulder, and he stopped, though he didn't turn. "You've...been acting so strange since you got back sweetheart. Something's wrong, I know it."

Her words, her confidence, didn't help, because she was right, and he couldn't say anything about it. "It's nothing, Mom," he told her, shrugging her hand off slightly and bringing his things out to the car. Since there weren't as many boxes, he didn't make more than two trips, before returning inside to say goodbye to his mother and sister. Obviously it wasn't like he was going anywhere per se, not to somewhere like Afghanistan again, but....

All things considered, they were still concerned to see him go, given the obvious state he was in. However, he ignored their worries still, refusing to talk about what was wrong, and just...went back to his apartment. He waited in the car after arriving, just for a few minutes to keep himself stable, before having the courage to return.

As he opened the car door and stepped out, his phone slipped from his pocket and hit the concrete. Somewhat unsurprisingly, the case ended up popping off and everything just clattered on the ground. He needed a new phone for a long time, it was...ages old, but he just...hadn't....

David frowned as he crouched down to pick up his phone and its case, mostly because those weren't the only things that fell away. When the case popped off, the back part of it, a note fluttered out with it, lying on the ground as well, face down. After collecting up his phone and dumping it and the case pieces onto his pocket, he picked up the note and flipped it over.

It was...covered in scribbles.

I thought I'd hide a note somewhere that you'd take with you everywhere, even if you never find it. That way, you're stuck with me. I love you! ♥

You still haven't found this note? It's a year later, David. I just checked. Seriously.

You STILL haven't found this note? Honey, it's been THREE YEARS. Get a new phone case!!!

For the love of God, Davie. Four years? Get a new phone!

You're a creature of habit. I've faced the fact that you're never finding this note.

....

He just got a grip.

This wasn't helping.

God fucking damn it.

David couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying. Probably both. It was so utterly painfully Lydia, and while it made him feel like he had a part of her, his Lydia, it also reminded him of...just...how much he missed her. Yeah, alright, technically she was sitting in that shitty apartment that was apparently his, but that wasn't the Lydia he'd married. That wasn't the Lydia he was trying to have a family with. That wasn't the Lydia he'd been through everything with.

That was the Lydia he was trying to mold into a close enough replica of his Lydia to impress some divine lunatic, who may or may not even send him home for it.

This was bullshit.

It wasn't fair.

....

But it was also a waste of time to sit around sobbing, so for a third time, David picked his ass up, smacked himself a few times, returned to masculinity, and headed for his apartment. Maybe this was all for nothing, maybe the divine asshole would decided he didn't care enough to set things back the way they were, and maybe David would be stuck here forever.

But that didn't mean he could give up, because that was all just...chance.

A small chance of going home was better than no chance, and David was taking that.

He was solemn as he carried his things up, unfortunately having to make two trips again. If Lydia noticed he was back, she hadn't said anything until he had set everything down by the door after the second trip, and followed the smell of food into the kitchen.

Given his state, David didn't feel much compelled to step over and wrap his arms around her waist, like he would've on a normal day. But...today was not a normal day. Today was an awful day.

"Hey," she greeted, glancing over her shoulder with s smile from her place at the stove. "I hope pasta's okay. Your kitchen is...super empty."

He snorted, turning somewhat and avoiding looking at her. "Sorry," he said. "I told you I don't really...live here much. I'll foodshop tomorrow. Pasta's fine."

"I can go with you?" she offered, looking over her shoulder again, and clearly seeing that he wasn't at his best. "....Are you okay?"

For fuck's sake, no.

"I'm fine," he responded, trying to smile at her. "You don't....You wouldn't understand. Don't worry about it."

Thankfully, she didn't persist, which was hurtful in itself because his Lydia would've whacked him upside the head with a spoon and scolded him that he could talk about anything. But no, the only word that came out of her mouth was, "....Okay."

Yeah.

Everything was okay.

Just...peachy.

God Dave needed a drink.