JJJ Ranch Short Story #2

NOTE: YOU MUST READ SS#1 (below) OR THIS WILL BE VERY CONFUSING! (Also, sorry for the poor layout. C-P sucks!)

Royal woke up to the sound of rain pounding against his bedroom window. He groaned and reached across the bed –coming up empty handed. He’d forgotten. Even two months later, he still forgot. He shifted uncomfortably, pulling himself up in bed. The plastic cast was probably more comfortable than the conventional plaster, but it didn’t mean that it was any less annoying. It was hindering everything –he wanted anything to get away from the thoughts of the car wreck, but since all he could do was hobble around the house, it was like that was he could think about.
“Royal, are you awake?”
“In the bedroom, Patrick,” he called back. He slid his legs to the side of the bed and pulled himself up to his feet.
“Do you need help?” Patrick appeared in the doorway.
“No, I’m fine,” he shook his head. “Thank you.”
“Want me to turn the shower on for you?”
“I’ve got it, Patrick. Don’t baby me.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Patrick put up his hands defensively. “I’m just trying to help.”
Royal sighed, “I know, but I’m fine, really.”
“I’ll go make breakfast –anything you got a hankering for?”
“No, anything is fine,” Royal pushed himself to his feet. His leg felt heavy and the boot clunked as he approached the closet. He was just starting to be able to put weight back on the leg, but he wasn’t anywhere close to being able to get back outside. He pulled out a stack of fresh clothes and went to the shower.
After he had pulled on fresh clothes, he clunked along back into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. Patrick was just starting to pour measures of batter onto the hot griddle. It sizzled and popped and the smell of fresh pancakes filled the kitchen.
“Smells good,” he reached down, rubbing his knee. “You’re better a cook then you ever let on.”
“Well, I’m getting plenty of practice now,” Patrick tossed him a grin over his shoulder.
“How are things going out there?”
“Fine,” Patrick shrugged. “Too much rain to get anything done today, but I’m going to try and tinker with the baler –it keeps making a weird grinding sound.”
“You want some help? I’m pretty sure I can handle sitting out there and telling you what to do.”
“It’s all right, Kentucky is going to help me.”
Royal held back a sigh, giving a little nod, “Okay. Where are the dogs?”
“In the laundry room, I just fed them.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Patrick shook his head. He flipped a few finished pancakes onto a plate with a rasher of bacon and a fried egg before bringing it over to Royal with a fork. “What do you want to drink?”
“You don’t have to wait on me,” Royal started to move to get up. Patrick set a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Royal, you’ve waited on me for years. It’s not a problem. What do you want to drink?”
“Just some milk, I guess.” Royal bit his tongue, shifting his legs under the table. He didn’t look up from the plate as Patrick set the glass in front of him. His hand hesitated over the jar of homemade strawberry jam before shifting for the bottle of Mrs. Butterworth.
“Royal, are you okay?” Patrick’s hands rest on his shoulders. “—And I’m not asking about your leg. I’m talking about you, up here,” He tapped the top of his head.
“I’m fine, Patrick.”
“You know, we…we haven’t talked about him. What happened.”
“I flipped the truck, he got thrown through the fucking windshield and he died,” Royal’s voice wasn’t at all bitter as he cut into the stack of pancakes –just matter-of-fact. “What is there to talk about?”
Patrick’s hands slid down his arms, “Okay, you aren’t ready yet, I get it. I wouldn’t be either.” He stepped back towards the stove to finish fixing his own plate.
Royal quietly stabbed at his own food, putting very little of it into his mouth. He just kind of shuffled the pieces around his plate until Patrick sat down across from him.
“Stop playing with it and eat,” Patrick’s voice held just the slightest note of warning. “You hardly ate anything all week –and don’t even dare try to tell me you aren’t hungry.”
Royal sucked in a breath, shoving a fork full into his mouth. It was really good. He wondered if he had made them from scratch or used a box. He glanced over at the counter to see if he could tell, but all he could see was the mixing bowl.
“It’s from scratch,” Patrick could tell what he was thinking. “You taught me how to make them, Royal.”
Royal felt the flush rise in his cheeks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinking it,” Patrick didn’t hesitate before cracking open the jar of homemade preserves.
Royal closed his mouth around another forkful to avoid saying anything else. Hoshi wandered in from the laundry room and came to lay his head on Royal’s thigh. He reached down, running his hand across the top of the dog’s head. He wondered how much Hoshi and the girls could really understand about what happened –if they understood at all. Did they even realize that he was gone?
When they were finished, Patrick cleared their plates to the sink and started washing up. Royal lifted himself up out of the chair and Hoshi promptly pushed him back into it. Even he knew that there wasn’t anywhere else he needed to be.
“Hoshi,” Royal sighed. He patted his head. Hoshi snorted, pressing his paws onto Royal’s good side and lapping at his face. “Hoshi, down.”
“He just wants to make you feel better,” Patrick picked up the dish towel, leaning against the counter as he dried his mixing bowl. “C’mere Hosh –you want a treat?”
Hoshi looked between the two of them, but chose to stay close to Royal. He sank back down on the floor and lay down at his feet.
“Do you need anything before I go out?” Patrick finished stacking up the dishes.
“No, I’ll probably just watch some TV or something.”
“Do you want to come out and help me? I can send Kentucky home.”
“No, it’s too wet out,” Royal shook his head.
“Do you want to go out later,” Patrick knelt down next to his chair. “We can go out and eat at the diner. I can see if Jer and Dan want to come with. Or, I could invite them over here for pizzas with the girls, maybe play some poker?” He reached up, brushing Royal’s hair out of his face. It was still a little damp from his shower and it was past due for a hair cut.
“I don’t want to see them,” Royal shook his head.
“They’re your friends –family,” Patrick reminded him. “And they’ve been calling practically six times a day trying to get you to talk to them.”
“And I won’t talk to them today either,” Royal shook his head.
Patrick let out a slow sigh, standing back up, “Fine, be that way.” He stopped short of smacking the stubborn man upside the head. He stepped out onto the porch, pulling his hat down over his eyes and shrugging into a thin zip-up and then pulling a poncho over his head for the trip to the barn. “I’ll be in around noon for lunch.”
Royal didn’t reply, reaching down to let Hoshi lick his fingers. Patrick sighed again, a little more loudly this time, letting the screen door slap behind him. Royal let his eyes trail to the porch. Once he was sure Patrick wasn’t coming back into the house for anything, he pushed up from the table and hobbled into the office and pulled out his drawing pad.

“I need to go to the store,” Royal spoke up as Patrick set a glass of coke in front of him and a roast beef sandwich on wheat.
“What do you need? I can pick it up when I go to the supply store.”
“I’d really like to get it myself,” Royal fidgeted. Patrick didn’t know about his project, and he didn’t want him to see it until it was done.
Patrick nodded, “All right, fine. Where do you need to go?”
“Art supply store –Michaels would be fine.”
Patrick didn’t seem fazed, “Okay, we can go after you eat that sandwich –the whole thing.”
Royal nodded, “Okay.” He picked up the sandwich, taking a bite. He didn’t like cold roast beef but was surprised to find that Patrick had warmed it up for him. It was good and he didn’t have a problem getting it down. He finished the glass of coke and then waited for Patrick to finish his salad.
“Let me go wash up,” Patrick took his plate and set it in the sink to wash later with the dinner dishes. “I’ll come help you to the car in a few minutes –do you want your crutches?”
“No, I’m fine, just pull the truck up to door so the boot doesn’t get muddy,” Royal pushed back his chair to go get his jacket and wallet.
“All right, I’ll be back in a minute,” Patrick disappeared up the stairs to the bathroom. He washed his hands, scrubbed his face clean, and pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a dark t-shirt. He tromped back down the stairs where Royal had pulled on his jacket and a sneaker. He shifted in the doorway of the porch, looking out at the rain.
“Ready?” Patrick put a hand on his back.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go get the truck,” Patrick squeezed past him. A few minutes later they were situated in the truck and on their way. Patrick tried to ignore the way Royal’s fingers tightened against his seatbelt, making sure it was secure before whitening his knuckles, gripping the edge of the seat.
“So what do you need from Michaels?” Patrick shifted a glance at him. Royal was staring out the window.
“A couple sketch pads, some new pencils. Not a lot.”
“Are you drawing again?” Patrick knew he’d dabbled with art in college before ultimately choosing agriculture.
“Maybe.”
Patrick held a breath and counted to ten before letting it out. “That’s good, I’m glad you’ve found something to keep yourself busy.”
Royal hummed.
“You know, if you wanted to…we could stop at Best Buy or something. We could get you a Wacom tablet and some software –you could edit it easier too.”
“I like doing it this way –besides, it’s just for me, so what does it matter how I do it?”
“It doesn’t, I suppose,” Patrick reached across the seat, pressing his hand on top of Royal’s. “Don’t be so tense, it’s not good for you.”
“Please keep your hands on the steering wheel,” Royal pulled his hand away into his lap.
“Sorry,” Patrick returned both hands to the steering wheel. They were quiet again until Royal cleared his throat.
“Maybe we could stop by Best Buy anyway? I think I’ve got a couple gift cards to use.”
“Sure,” Patrick nodded. “They’re right next door to each other, practically.”
Royal reached over and turned on the radio to the country station to make the silence between them a little less awkward. The trip to the city wasn’t overly long, but it felt like an eternity. Nothing had ever really been the same since the summer the two of them had fooled around in the field. Jacob, as promised, had forgiven Royal. They’d been back on the right track –totally in love like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off of one another. They didn’t talk about the indiscretion, but all of them remembered it and probably thought about it frequently.
Then, back in January, on their way home from Dan and Jeremy’s weekly poker game, Royal had hit a patch of black ice, spun out the truck and flipped it three times. He’d managed to walk away with only some cuts and a broken leg. Jacob hadn’t put on his seat belt for the ride home and had been thrown through the windshield. The coroner had promised he’d died upon impact, but Royal still blamed himself completely for it. Half the ranch had been signed over to Royal years before, but after the funeral, they found out that Jacob had, instead of leaving his half to Royal, had signed it over to Patrick. He couldn’t tell whether this actually pleased or pissed Royal off, and he hadn’t said a thing about it.
“Do you need help down?”
“I’m not a fucking child, Patrick.”
“Did I say that you were?” Patrick countered. “I don’t want you to fall on your ass and break your other leg okay? You’re enough of a stubborn fucking asshole hobbling around on one broken leg, much less two.
Royal flushed red, “I’m sorry. I just…I hate being treated like an invalid.”
“I know you’re not a gimp, Royal, but just admit that you need help once in awhile, okay? The truck is two and a half feet off the ground and you can’t put full weight on your leg yet. Just wait a second okay.” Royal obliged, waiting for Patrick to move around the truck to help him down.
“Thank you,” Royal’s fingers dug into the sleeve of Patrick’s jacket. It had pretty much stopped raining.
“No problem,” Patrick slipped an arm around his waist. Royal leaned against him, holding him close to him for a moment. He leaned down, his lips brushing Patrick’s temple.
“Why’d you cut it?” His voice was soft. He reached up pulling his fingers through Patrick’s hair. It was considerably shorter, just past his shoulders. Hardly long enough to braid.
Patrick shrugged, “It seemed the right thing to do at the time.”
“When did you do it?” Royal couldn’t look at his face, his fingers trailing through the ends of the thick dark hair.
“About five minutes after I got the call, as soon as I found a pair of scissors.”
“I don’t remember,” Royal shook his head.
“I wish I didn’t.”
“C’mon, we should get your stuff,” Patrick nodded towards the store. He pushed the truck door closed and clicked the remote lock before shoving his keys into his pocket.
Royal slid his hand into Patrick’s jacket pocket as they entered the store. He’d barely left home in the last three months, except for doctor’s visits every week for physical therapy. It wasn’t crowded or busy really. It was an off-season for the store. Royal knew exactly where the drawing supplies were and withdrew from Patrick to pick up three of the mid-sized tablets and two boxes of pencils as well as a case of pens and a couple of large kneaded erasers.
“Do you want anything else?” Patrick offered.
“I don’t think so,” Royal shook his head. “This is enough for now.”
“Okay,” Patrick linked his fingers with Royal’s as they made for the cash register. The line was longer than he anticipated and there seemed to be only one cashier on duty. He didn’t mind though; he was glad Royal was letting him get close to him for once. “You going to tell me what you’re working on?” He nodded towards the supplies.
Royal took a deep breath, “No.”
“All right then…”
“It’s just a comic,” Royal shrugged. “You can’t read it.”
“I didn’t ask to read it,” Patrick chided.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean…you can’t read it until it’s finished.”
“Okay,” Patrick nodded. Royal’s fingers tightened around his.
“Its…my own personal therapy, okay?”
“I understand, Royal. I won’t push you about it.”
Royal hummed, finally stepping up to the cash register. He let go of Patrick’s hand to lay his down his items. The cashier look frazzled and rung them up as quickly as she could. Royal paid with his debit card, his hand hovering for a moment over his previously joint credit card. He sucked in a breath, swiping the debit through the reader and punching in a PIN number.
“You still want to go to Best Buy?” Patrick let him slide his hand back into his after they exited the door.
“Sure,” Royal nodded.
“You want to put those in the truck and then we can walk over?” Patrick suggested.
“Um, sure. Can you put them in? I think I need to sit for a second.” Royal handed him the bag, sinking down on the edge of a concrete ledge along the edge of the store front.
“Okay,” Patrick nodded. He took the bag and walked quickly the misty rain to the truck. He tossed the bag carefully into the backseat of the cab before making his way back over to Royal. “Do you want some aspirin or something for your leg?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt that much.” Royal pushed himself back up onto his feet. “It’s really just kind of an annoyance.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, really, I’m fine Patrick.” Royal reached up, brushing Patrick’s hair out of his face. “You look pretty today.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow, “Pretty? Thanks.”
Royal smiled, “You know what I mean.”
“Don’t do this today, Royal,” Patrick shook his head. He slid his arm into his boss’s and steered him next door to the Best Buy. “What are you looking for? Maybe we should get a couple movies? Or a video game –it’s been awhile since we played any video games.”
“I liked your idea about the Wacom tablet,” Royal admitted. “I still want to draw that freehand, but…for another project, just to play with.”
“Okay,” Patrick nodded. They pushed through the doors and headed for the back of the store to computers. They found the tablets situated near the mice. Royal checked out the specs while Patrick went to look at movies. He selected the second cheapest model –no sense in spending a lot of money on something he wasn’t sure he even knew how to use yet. He didn’t bother looking at software –it came with something basic enough to play with. He stuck the box under his arm and hobbled over to find Patrick.
“Anything good?”
“Depends on what you mean by ‘good’,” Patrick looked up at him. “You find something?”
“Something good enough to mess around with a bit,” Royal nodded. “Did you want anything?”
“No,” Patrick shook his head. “We came here for you.”
Royal gave a jerky nod, linking their arms together again, “C’mon, let’s get home.”
“You going to stop being paranoid?” Patrick asked. “And don’t pretend like you aren’t. I won’t let it happen again.” He glanced up at Royal. “You’re safe with me.”
Royal brushed hair out of his eyes. It really was getting too long. “I know that.”
They checked out quickly and made their way back out to the truck. Patrick helped him in without asking for permission and Royal pulled his seatbelt tight as Patrick got into the driver’s side. He rested his hand in the middle of the bench seat and waited for Patrick to lace their fingers together once they were on the road home.
“I have to stop at the supply store,” Patrick reminded him. “Do you want to pick something up for dinner?”
“No,” Royal shook his head.
“Are you sure? We can stop at the diner. I’ll have Wilhelmina wrap us up something for later.”
“If that’s what you want,” Royal shifted his gaze out the window. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“All right,” Patrick nodded. He pulled his hand out of Royal’s as it started to rain again. He flipped on the windshield wipers and his headlights. Royal turned the radio on again as they drove back to Grossling. Patrick pulled the truck up to the feed supply store. He disappeared inside for a few minutes, placing their feed order for the next week and paying up on their bill. He was back in the truck in fifteen minutes and he tried to keep himself from taking a peek at the sketch that Royal had started to amuse himself while he was in the store.
“Any problems?” Royal wasn’t actively hiding the sketch, but he wasn’t showing it off either. He flipped the book closed and stuck his pencil into the binding.
“Nope,” Patrick shook his head. He didn’t ask again, steering the truck towards the local diner. He parked in front and cut the engine to run inside. “You want anything special?”
Royal shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Royal,” Patrick reached up, turning him forcibly to look at him. “What do you want? Something I can’t cook.”
“Umm,” Royal pulled free and reached down to rub his knee. “Country Fried Steak dinner.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute. Keep drawing,” He trailed his hand down his shoulder, lingering for a moment at his fingers. Royal waited until Patrick had entered the diner before opening up the sketch pad again. His pencil sketched out the frame before he started working on drawing the familiar highway where he’d found Patrick.

Patrick shifted on the couch uncomfortably. He’d fallen asleep after dinner watching some sitcom repeat. He thought that Royal had joined him, but a glance at the clock told him that the older man had probably gone to bed. He stretched his arms over his head, stumbling out of the living room. He was about to head up the stairs when he noticed the light on in the office.
“Royal, you still awake?” He knocked on the door before pushing it open. Royal was asleep at the desk, pencil still dangling from his fingers. There were three sketchbooks stacked on the corner of the desk, labeled only with numbers. The new ones he had bought were tossed on the chair in front of the desk. Patrick moved quietly into the room, glancing down at the sketch pad in front of Royal. He smiled, recognizing the image of the kitchen and Hoshi sleeping under the table. He leaned over to read the text.
“Patrick entered our lives quickly. He was cute, gawky, and uncomfortable. We asked only the questions we had to and I think he appreciated that. Like most things that wander onto JJJ Ranch, he’s never left.”
“Royal?” He leaned away from the sketch, putting his hand on his shoulder. Royal jerked, blinking his eyes.
“Wha?”
“You fell asleep,” Patrick leaned against the edge of the desk. “It’s late, you should get into bed.”
Royal nodded, “Right.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you for waking me up,” Royal set down his pencil in the middle of the sketch and pushed back his chair. “My neck is going to be cricked in the morning.”
“Here,” Patrick stopped him. He reached up and kneaded his fingers on the back of Royal’s neck in little circles. Royal’s breath caught in his throat and his head tipped down. “Is that better?”
“Yes.” Royal edged closer to him pressing his knees between the Indian’s. “…Patrick?”
“Hmm?” His fingers slid to Royal’s collar bone.
“Is it inevitable?”
“Is what inevitable?” Patrick narrowed his eyes in curiosity.
“The two of us.”
“I don’t think I know what you mean.”
“Us –together. Is it inevitable now that…now that he’s gone?”
“I don’t know,” Patrick shook his head. “Isn’t it a little soon for that?”
“Exactly –isn’t it too soon for me to…to even think about it,” Royal’s breath was warm against Patrick’s neck. “It’s only been three months. We were together for thirteen years. But, every time I look at you, I remember what it was like at the beginning.” He looked up, pulling Patrick’s hair through his fingers.
“Royal, c’mon, you’re tired.”
“I need you to read this,” Royal pulled free. He picked up the labeled sketch books and held them out to him. “They’re rough, I started after the accident –after the funeral. The beginning is very rough, I haven’t drawn like this since…I can’t even remember.”
“I don’t need to read this, this is for you,” Patrick shook his head. He wasn’t sure what was inside the sketch books, but if it was anything like what was on the desk…
“Please. If you don’t read it, no one else will. I don’t have anyone else to share it with.”
Patrick nodded, “Okay.” The books felt cold in his hand as he took them. He pressed them to his chest. “I’ll read them.”
Royal nodded, “I’m going to bed then. Good night.”
“Good night, Royal.” Patrick stood back up, watching him head for the stairs. The boot clunked its way up the carpet. He didn’t move until he heard the bedroom door close behind him. He sighed, looking down at the cover of the first sketchbook before making his way to the kitchen. Hoshi looked up at him from his spot on the rug in front of the stove. “We’re in for a long night, Hoshi.” He flipped the switch on the coffee pot and sat down at the table to flip open the first book.

“Royal?”
“Hrm?” Royal groaned. He cracked an eye to look at the clock. 4 AM. “What?”
“I finished.”
Grumble grumble.
“Royal, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever…” Patrick was still brushing tears off his face. “Jacob would be so proud of you.”
“Ugh,” Royal coaxed himself onto his side. “You really spent the last five hours reading that?”
“Yes, once I started, I couldn’t stop,” Patrick sank down onto the bed next to him. “Royal, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That this happened.”
Royal sighed. Patrick obviously wasn’t going to let him go back to sleep. He shifted back onto his back, “Patrick, I didn’t give it to you because I wanted to discuss it afterwards. I just wanted someone to read it.”
“I know, I just…I wanted to tell you that I loved it.”
“Thanks.” Royal squeezed Patrick’s thigh. “I’m glad.”
“About earlier…you asked if it was too soon.”
Royal hummed. His eyes had drifted closed again, but he was pretty awake now.
“Too soon for what?”
Royal sighed through his nose, “Patrick…you know what you do to me.”
“We never talked about that summer –that day,” Patrick shook his head. “I thought we just shoved it under the rug; forgot about it.”
“I never forgot about it,” Royal’s eyes drifted back open. “Jacob knew.” He pushed himself up, dragging his cast up the mattress. He winced as he turned on the bedside lamp and reached into the drawer. He pulled out a worn looking envelope with his name on it and handed it to Patrick. “I found this after.”
Patrick’s hands were shaky as he pulled out the single sheet of paper. Jacob’s handwriting was easily recognizable even though the letter wasn’t signed –it didn’t need to be.
Royal, it’s cliché, but if you’re reading this, chances are I’m gone. I’m not sure how long it will take you find this, and I’m not sure what all there will be for me to have to say when the time comes, so I’ll keep it to the most important thing. You probably know by now that I left my half of the ranch to Patrick instead of you. I hope you’re not upset about that. But there’s a reason for it –I want you two to take care of one another. I don’t know what would have happened that day if you hadn’t gone to see if he was leaving or if he hadn’t told you to go back to me. He always wanted what was best for the two of us, so now I want what’s best for the two of you. I know you love him, maybe in a different way than how you loved me, but it’s there, and with Patrick, you’ll never have to worry about him leaving you. He’s loyal, he’s steady, and he loves you.
“So he gave his blessing, basically?”
“That’s how I interpreted it.”
“Is it true? Do you…do you love me?”
“Of course,” Royal reached over, brushing a lock of hair behind Patrick’s ear. “Different then what it was with Jacob, but…yes, I love you.”
Patrick refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. The drawer slid closed easily and he reached up to turn the lamp back off, casting the room into darkness.
“Patrick?”
“Shh,” Patrick shook his head. He slid onto the bed, careful of Royal’s leg as he straddled his hips. His hair wasn’t long enough to cocoon their faces, but it fell over both of them as he kissed him. Royal’s hands went to his hips, his fingers dipping underneath the waistband of his worn flannel PJ bottoms. It had been almost four years since those ten minutes in the back of the truck, but he could still remember every inch his fingers had touched. Patrick reached down, pulling Royal’s hands away, lacing fingers with him. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” Royal was breathing heavily as Patrick shifted back onto his heels.
“Royal, it’s only been three months. I don’t want you to jump into anything. Plus, your leg, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s fine,” Royal assured him. “And you won’t hurt me, just stay exactly where you are.”
“Not now,” Patrick was adamant. “Later. Right now, I just want to kiss you.”
“Okay but, that’s really only going to hold me over for so long,” Royal grinned.
“I know,” Patrick grinned. He ran his fingers across Royal’s scruffy cheeks. “And any other night, I might say go for it, but…I haven’t slept at all.”
“Well then, Royal reached across the bed, pulling back the covers on the empty side of the bed. “Crawl in.”
Patrick opened his mouth to protest but Royal stopped him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him next to him in bed. “Royal, be careful!”
“Patrick, I broke my leg. I didn’t get shot or crack any ribs,” Royal sighed. “And aside from the stupid cast and dull throbbing reminder every so often, I’m fine –really.” He shifted back down under the covers, pulling them up over them. “Get some sleep.”
Patrick nodded. He slid closer across the cotton sheets to Royal’s side, linking their fingers together. Royal didn’t let himself drift back to sleep until he felt Patrick relax next to him.