Detective Euan Fitzpatrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lovesguinness) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2016-09-03 12:59 pm
lovesguinness) wrote in muserevival2016-09-03 12:59 pm
Entry tags:
125.1. Lyrics
"Lived in a bubble
Days were never ending
Was not concerned
About what life was sending
Fantasy was real
Now I know much
About the way I feel."
• Fade Away, Oasis
tw: drug references + coarse language
noah cameron + clint chevalier used with permission
Euan sat alone in the hospital corridor, rubbing his hand over his unshaven face tiredly. Exhaustion had taken on a whole new meaning since his daughter was born. Having a newborn in the house meant sleep was a priceless luxury, and you had to steal wee bursts of it where you could. He was back at work after his paternity leave, and his son had a week or so where his illness had flared up. That meant sleepless nights too. 'Exhausted' wasn't a powerful enough adjective to cut it. So all this was the last thing he needed. But that didn't mean it was a lesser priority than anything else. Far from it.
The call had come through just after midnight while Euan was trying to coax his baby girl to take her midnight feed. She was having none of it. Every time he tried to get the bottled to her mouth, she was whimpering in protest, turning her head away. The fact he was tired meant he had made one major flaw - he failed to notice Noah hadn't come home in nearly 48 hours. His failure meant there had been no chance warning bells could ring.
The kid had been on the straight and narrow for so long now. He got his GED, and he scored a a traineeship in Makeup Artistry, learning under Lewis Sheldon, a master in his field. He had been content, and he had become part of the family. Euan and Julie had been officially fostering him, and he became a big brother to Ciaran, and now also to Caley. Everything was going so well - too well - and Euan had stupidly been lulled into a false sense of security.
And now, he gets this phone call. It was Clint. He had been out undercover working a job tailing some dealer or another. Euan would forever turn a blind eye to what Clint did for a living. They had a 'you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours' kind of arrangement. Clint had been instrumental in many a case under Euan's watchful eye over the years. He knew what Clint did was rarely above board, but he was sharp as a tack and just as cunning as the crims he was tailing. That was why he was so good at what he did. Only this time, Euan wished he could just shut it all out, go to bed, and sleep for a week.
Noah had OD'ed. Clint found him out cold and barely breathing on a grungy sofa in a dealer's den, like some sort of sacrificial lamb. Clint didn't know how Noah got there, and why he was half naked, but there was evidence he had been snorting something and also shooting up. Blood had been seeping from the puncture wound in the crook of his arm. It could be evidence that Noah hadn't administered the drug himself. Clint thought the scene looked like Noah had been used as some sort of bitch to the dealer. But why? Euan might never know.
The most important thing was that Clint managed to get Noah out of there. He didn't have Emily for back-up, so it took some quick thinking and smooth talking; convincing the cunts that they could be done for murder if a cop found the kid. Clint pretended to check Noah's pulse and told them he was dead. He offered to 'get rid of him' and they let him take the 'body'. The body that was now lying fighting for his life because he had overdosed on fuck only knew what. Why the fuck was he even there?
It was tearing Euan up inside. He felt like he fucking failed the kid when he told him all along he had his back. He had been so tied up with having a new baby that he hadn't seen any signs that Noah might be slipping. He just assumed everything was okay. He put both hands up over his mouth and nose, trying to take a minute to regain his composure when his emotions felt like they were beginning to crumble. Fuck, this was hard to cope with on little sleep to have a clear mind.
There was a high risk that Noah wouldn't survive the night. Clint was far from a medical professional, but even he looked worried as all fuck when he stood listening to what the doctors were relaying to Euan once he made it to the hospital. He was Noah's guardian and medical proxy. If it came to the worst, the choice to pull the plug would be left in Euan's hands. He felt sick, close to vomiting. Breathing even felt difficult due to the tight knot in his chest. Perhaps the worst part of all was terror, because he had been there.
He had done all this, been through it. He had been an addict and a dealer. One of the worst you could come across. He had OD'ed a time or two. He had been in and out of rehab, succeeding and failing with consistent pace. On and off the wagon. He hadn't cared who he hurt, or what he did to get his hands on drugs. All he cared about was getting his next hit. The only thing that managed to shock him out of the stupid and reckless addiction he had been trapped in was when he almost killed his grandmother. His grandfather had already dropped dead from a heart attack. Both his parents were dead, killed in the London Bombings. He threatened his grandmother with a knife to get her pension money to buy more drugs. The next day she had a heart attack and a stroke. She spent the rest of her dwindling days in a nursing home. When he tried visiting her to apologise, she told the staff she didn't have a grandson.
He was supposed to have been protecting Noah. He promised him that, and he failed. Euan didn't know how he would live with himself if the kid died. He wasn't a religious man, so he wouldn't pray. All he could do was hope like fuck the kid had some tiny bit of fight left in him. After getting his wee girl, he had began to develop a faith in miracles, but did anyone deserve two in a row?
He raked his fingers through his hair and shifted restlessly in the uncomfortable seat as he waited. "Fuck, kid... just please keep fighting," he mumbled to himself.
Euan Fitzpatrick (Original Character)
Days were never ending
Was not concerned
About what life was sending
Fantasy was real
Now I know much
About the way I feel."
• Fade Away, Oasis
noah cameron + clint chevalier used with permission
Euan sat alone in the hospital corridor, rubbing his hand over his unshaven face tiredly. Exhaustion had taken on a whole new meaning since his daughter was born. Having a newborn in the house meant sleep was a priceless luxury, and you had to steal wee bursts of it where you could. He was back at work after his paternity leave, and his son had a week or so where his illness had flared up. That meant sleepless nights too. 'Exhausted' wasn't a powerful enough adjective to cut it. So all this was the last thing he needed. But that didn't mean it was a lesser priority than anything else. Far from it.
The call had come through just after midnight while Euan was trying to coax his baby girl to take her midnight feed. She was having none of it. Every time he tried to get the bottled to her mouth, she was whimpering in protest, turning her head away. The fact he was tired meant he had made one major flaw - he failed to notice Noah hadn't come home in nearly 48 hours. His failure meant there had been no chance warning bells could ring.
The kid had been on the straight and narrow for so long now. He got his GED, and he scored a a traineeship in Makeup Artistry, learning under Lewis Sheldon, a master in his field. He had been content, and he had become part of the family. Euan and Julie had been officially fostering him, and he became a big brother to Ciaran, and now also to Caley. Everything was going so well - too well - and Euan had stupidly been lulled into a false sense of security.
And now, he gets this phone call. It was Clint. He had been out undercover working a job tailing some dealer or another. Euan would forever turn a blind eye to what Clint did for a living. They had a 'you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours' kind of arrangement. Clint had been instrumental in many a case under Euan's watchful eye over the years. He knew what Clint did was rarely above board, but he was sharp as a tack and just as cunning as the crims he was tailing. That was why he was so good at what he did. Only this time, Euan wished he could just shut it all out, go to bed, and sleep for a week.
Noah had OD'ed. Clint found him out cold and barely breathing on a grungy sofa in a dealer's den, like some sort of sacrificial lamb. Clint didn't know how Noah got there, and why he was half naked, but there was evidence he had been snorting something and also shooting up. Blood had been seeping from the puncture wound in the crook of his arm. It could be evidence that Noah hadn't administered the drug himself. Clint thought the scene looked like Noah had been used as some sort of bitch to the dealer. But why? Euan might never know.
The most important thing was that Clint managed to get Noah out of there. He didn't have Emily for back-up, so it took some quick thinking and smooth talking; convincing the cunts that they could be done for murder if a cop found the kid. Clint pretended to check Noah's pulse and told them he was dead. He offered to 'get rid of him' and they let him take the 'body'. The body that was now lying fighting for his life because he had overdosed on fuck only knew what. Why the fuck was he even there?
It was tearing Euan up inside. He felt like he fucking failed the kid when he told him all along he had his back. He had been so tied up with having a new baby that he hadn't seen any signs that Noah might be slipping. He just assumed everything was okay. He put both hands up over his mouth and nose, trying to take a minute to regain his composure when his emotions felt like they were beginning to crumble. Fuck, this was hard to cope with on little sleep to have a clear mind.
There was a high risk that Noah wouldn't survive the night. Clint was far from a medical professional, but even he looked worried as all fuck when he stood listening to what the doctors were relaying to Euan once he made it to the hospital. He was Noah's guardian and medical proxy. If it came to the worst, the choice to pull the plug would be left in Euan's hands. He felt sick, close to vomiting. Breathing even felt difficult due to the tight knot in his chest. Perhaps the worst part of all was terror, because he had been there.
He had done all this, been through it. He had been an addict and a dealer. One of the worst you could come across. He had OD'ed a time or two. He had been in and out of rehab, succeeding and failing with consistent pace. On and off the wagon. He hadn't cared who he hurt, or what he did to get his hands on drugs. All he cared about was getting his next hit. The only thing that managed to shock him out of the stupid and reckless addiction he had been trapped in was when he almost killed his grandmother. His grandfather had already dropped dead from a heart attack. Both his parents were dead, killed in the London Bombings. He threatened his grandmother with a knife to get her pension money to buy more drugs. The next day she had a heart attack and a stroke. She spent the rest of her dwindling days in a nursing home. When he tried visiting her to apologise, she told the staff she didn't have a grandson.
He was supposed to have been protecting Noah. He promised him that, and he failed. Euan didn't know how he would live with himself if the kid died. He wasn't a religious man, so he wouldn't pray. All he could do was hope like fuck the kid had some tiny bit of fight left in him. After getting his wee girl, he had began to develop a faith in miracles, but did anyone deserve two in a row?
He raked his fingers through his hair and shifted restlessly in the uncomfortable seat as he waited. "Fuck, kid... just please keep fighting," he mumbled to himself.
Euan Fitzpatrick (Original Character)