fixerfortherich | A Welcome Visitor

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A Welcome Visitor

Ray's not sure how long he's been in there. The days all felt like one long eternity, spent either lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling or sitting in the lounge and thinking about everything. His thoughts weren't exactly the happiest kind. Not to mention how vulnerable he feels inside his own head.

But in the midst of all the dark, one person keeps popping up. Someone he hasn't seen in a long time and regrets not reaching out to sooner.

He sits in the lounge that afternoon and watches the nurses and patients passing by. He's not really in the mood for much else.

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Yeah, so-- medical institutions? Charlie can't be assed about 'em. He doesn't like the sterilised feel, and he doesn't like the fact that strangers with their metal tools and their rubber gloves and their critical eyes are everywhere. He's done with it. He couldn't care less.

But then Bridget told him about Ray.

And you know what? Charlie fucking hates medical places, but he doesn't think he hates Terry's stupid kid brother. The fact he argued about this very thing to him aside-- Ray's mental health, that is, and Jesus, Raymond, seriously, all this fixer shit ain't helping you-- how is he supposed to stay in his truck when Ray's been confined to a psych ward?

So Charlie comes. He lies about being Ray's big brother, and doesn't think about how pissed Terry's gonna be if he finds out. Then he sits in visitation and waits for the nurse to bring the patients in-- waits to see Ray.

When Ray walks in Charlie's going to stand up. He hasn't felt this scared in a long time, this concerned.

His expression is soft instead of the usual smug.

"Ray," he breathes out, and he realises too late that he sounds sad. "...Christ."

"Charlie?" He almost can't believe it. The one person he wants to see is standing right there. Charlie came to visit him and Ray would be a lot happier if he wasn't feeling so shitty.

Are the meds messing with my head again? Is this a fuckin' hallucination?

"I-" The words fail him, leaving him with the only expression he was capable of at the moment; a few steps forward and he hugs Charlie tightly.

"I'm so fuckin' glad to see you..." The words a mere whisper against Charlie's neck.

That's how you know something's wrong, isn't it? Ray initiates the fucking hug and it's like the whole world's erupted into furious, angry flame.

But Charlie is weak. Starved. He takes the hug and returns it, and holds Ray long enough to give a half-hearted, "That's a first, huh?"

He sounds so weak. Ray's always quiet, but that's out of choice; this, whatever this is, is quiet because of vulnerability. And Charlie would kiss him if it weren't for the fact he was supposed to be Terry Donovan right now.

Awkward, he steps back, taking a moment to grip both of Ray's cheeks and give him a good look. "You look like shit, kid." He smiles slightly.

"...and I faked my identity to get here. Call me Ter, all right?"

When Ray's in this state, all that tough guy exterior melts away and gives way to a broken man. A man who needs a little help. He needs Charlie more than anything right now and he's relieved that he came.

He manages a weak smile and a chuckle at the other's comment. "I feel like shit too. It was real bad the first night." He hardly slept either and he's sure it's visible in his eyes.

"Ter it is. I won't tell him if you won't."

"Yeah, well." Charlie shakes his head, pulling back from the hug with a hand on Ray's shoulder to lead him to sit down. "Think I'm goin' to hell just for all the shit I haven't told my best friend."

Then he goes to sit across from him, his hands folded over the table as he leans in. "You know I'm gonna ask you what happened."

"I know what you mean. It's best he didn't know about us having sex, not yet." He says it quietly, so only Charlie hears him. He's supposed to be his brother now after all.

Ray exhales softly as he tries to gather the right words for it. "I really lost it, Charlie- I mean Terry. It's a little blurry... There were all these people and I fuckin' went off the deep end. Found myself here." He looks up from his folded hands, meeting Charlie's gaze.

"Found yourself here?" The incredulity slips into his tone before Charlie can stop it from happening. It's not often that he looks this visibly worried-- not often that his heart feels like it's dropped to his stomach, at least not since Max came back into his life-- but Ray always did have that magic touch about him.

"What? Where were you?"

"Outside. Roaming the streets... I've been having these blackouts." Ray answers honestly, knowing Charlie would understand him and not judge. "It's been rough lately. It's like I purposefully went headfirst into fucked up situations... And now it's all catching up."

Blackouts. From his forward-leaning position Charlie slowly slides back to lean into his seat, his hands slipping off the edge of the table.

The first one goes up to rub at the back of his head before sliding to the nape of his neck.

"...when'd they start?"

"Can't pinpoint the exact time, but there's been more lately." Ray finally relaxes on his seat, leaning back as well. Charlie's company always had a positive effect on him. Positive is the exact thing he needs. "It's fuckin' scary, I can't deny."

He's so tempted to reach out for Charlie's hand but he doesn't want to jeopardize his identity.

"So what're you gonna do about it?"

Because it's one thing to come clean and another entirely to do something about it. Since Abby's death, Charlie'd at least noticed a change in Ray. A sort of melancholy. Ray already had issues up the fucking wazoo-- it didn't take a genius to believe he needed help.

And now, after telling Charlie all this, well. Now he thinks Ray needs help more than he ever has.

"You gonna stay? Let 'em help?"

"Face up to the facts is what I'm gonna do."

He's done running away from his problems. He's done lashing out at the nearest person. If spending a little longer in this place is what it takes, Ray was willing to compromise.

"I'll stay. I can be a stubborn bastard, but this time I'm gonna give in. There's too much at stake."

Charlie smiles immediately.

Then, somewhat embarrassed, he dips his head and clears his throat, a hand moving up to rub over his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" he says, furiously trying to keep it casual and failing remarkably. The pride in his eyes is unmistakable.

"You're... really? You're doing it?"

Charlie's reaction was all the encouragement he needed to stick to his decision. A small smile tugged at the corners of his own lips, a rare sight lately.

"If it means I get to see more of that smile of yours, sure." He's teasing him a little. "It'll be a long tough road but I've been through some really bad shit already, so.." The thought brings back the seriousness on Ray's face and he averts his gaze for a moment.

The teasing's unexpected. The teasing is-- well, it's not something Charlie expects, and it makes his face get a little warm in both pleasure and surprise.

But he reaches his hand out, clearly intending for Ray to take it. He grins, wide and honest. "You're the toughest motherfucker I know, Donovan.

"You just gotta want to be better and I promise, promise, you'll have people to help you out."

Ray's not sure where it all is coming from, but he has a hunch it's something to do with Charlie in particular. He always had that way of cracking the fixer's tough exterior.

"I'll work damn hard at it." He murmurs while reaching to take Charlie's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. It feels good having that physical contact. "It's gonna hurt like hell facing everything but I have to... I have to."

Ray might be making it sound a lot more dramatic than it actually is, but it's already an improvement to changing the subject every time it came up. Charlie's lips curve into a smile, and he nods a few times in agreement, in a sign that he believes him; Ray is nothing if not a man of his word.

"Good." He wants to link their fingers together, to interlock them, but holds back. Probably best to just hold it like this. Probably not as suspicious, at any rate.

"You got a doctor here? They got someone legit, right?"

Ray chuckles, realizing how dramatic it all may sound. It truly is refreshing not changing the subject all the time and actually talking about it.

"Sure. They know what they're doing here." Ray's finding it hard to not make their hands more intimately entwined, but he knows he has to. For now. "It's up to me now. Can't be making excuses and acting self-destructive all my life, right? I'm 51."

"Jesus," Charlie groans. "Don't remind me how old I am, all right?"

One last squeeze and then he pulls his hand away, settling a little easier into his seat when he's done. "Do you... do you want me visiting?"

"Sorry," Ray chuckles. "Don't feel like remindin' myself either."

He nods easily. "I'd really like it if you came around whenever y'can. Seeing you would cheer this troubled bastard up a whole lot."

He leans back again, looking around the room. That's when a thought occurred to him. "How did you know I was here?"

Though it's surprising to hear Ray admit to wanting to see him somewhat regularly (and Charlie's heart kind of skips a beat there, but literally who the fuck cares?), the question of how he knew is a little embarrassing. "Uh..." Because how does he say he has Bridget's phone number? He'd say it wasn't his fault-- Max found her on Instagram and whatever, they came to visit sometimes-- but then it isn't like Ray isn't letting him speak to his daughter, right?

Or so Charlie presumes.

He rubs the side of his jaw. "...I heard from Bridget."

He'd welcome Charlie with open arms, if and when he comes to visit. It can easily get lonely in a place like this.

"Oh? Bridge does like your kid a lot, so I'm not surprised you two are talkin' too." There's still some fences to be mended there but Ray knows she'll talk to him again one day. No one's blaming her for being pissed. "How was she? When she uh.. told you."

Edited 2018-12-30 16:59 (UTC)

Charlie's expression tightens just a bit. His brows furrow as he dips his head. "Not happy, I guess."

But it isn't his place to elaborate.

"You'll have to call her yourself." He looks back up, and the look in his eyes says something along the lines of you gotta do it. "...finding out your dad's in a mental institution's kind of a big blow."

"Yeah, no shit...," Ray sighs, feeling bad for hurting his daughter yet again. It's finally time for him to man up and see this through. No more excuses, no more unhealthy behaviour. "I'll call her. We'll talk about this.. I'm done fuckin' destroying everything I touch."

"Hey, that's..." Not inaccurate, truthfully, but Charlie isn't sure beating himself up is the answer.

He smiles slightly. Gives Ray's hand a squeeze. "...you're doin' great. It's gonna be great.

"And I'm proud, all right?"

"Hearing that means more than you'll ever know." Ray gives him a small smile and a nod, squeezing his hand in return. "I'll make this count, I promise you." It will be a long road to recovery but Ray's not about to turn back this time. There's too much on the line.

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A Welcome Visitor

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