Blind Hearted

Some Hours Later...

Patrick's work was as it would be everyday: Full of confused, new or paying customers. The work was easy for him to deal with, though. Somehow, he had the ability to tolerate all sorts of rude people. Since he wasn't in front of them directly, he couldn't abuse them for being so mean. His temper was not something to challenge. While he might not have been the most physically capable man in the world, he could launch quite a powerful punch with his trained reflexes. When someone got what they deserved, he never regretted it.

The headset he used to talk to customers was set down on his desk, his hand feeling around his computer tower for the power button to shut it down. With a relieved sigh, he got up from his chair and made his way out of the plain looking office, his stick helping guide him out.

When he found his couch, he took a seat on it and laid his head back, deciding to take a quick nap until Rebecca would arrive. They were up late; much later than he was used to. So, a quick snooze would do him some good.
 
Rebecca's morning wasn't exactly...plesant, to say the least. Her mother had been down right furious when Becca parked her car and wandered up the driveway at 8 o' clock in the morning. She ranted and raved the whole way up to her bedroom, demanding an anwer from her daughter. Of course, Rebecca wasn't going to tell her mom the truth, that was just a death sentence waiting to happen. So she calmly slipped out a little white lie, claming she helped one of her classmates with an assignment she had already finished and had just spent the night since it was already very late by the time they were done. Her mother seemed to accept the answer but warned her to call home next time she would be gone all night, or else she would regret it.

Once her mother slipped off Rebecca felt herself relax a bit, glad that the storm had past without to much trouble. She then hopped into the shower to clean up and changed into some clean clothes, taking a bit more care in how she looked this morning. She then worked on her computer for a bit until she had to head into town for school, only having two classes that day. She quickly skimmed through her classes, eager to see Patrick again, and hurried home when she was free. She didn't even take her car home, she just drove it stright to Patrick's house. It took her a bit to get there though and ended up showing up at around 4:20. She tossed her books into the back seat adn grabbed her purse before she skipped up the walk and rung the door bell happily, bouncing from one foot to the other in excitement.
 
"Buh!"

Patrick sat up from the couch with a rush, startled by the doorbell. He was expected Rebecca, but had fallen in too deep of a sleep. With an embarrass smile to himself, he stood up with his cane and headed in the direction of his door. His heartbeat didn't take too long to calm down, luckily, making the red disappear from his face. Sometimes, he was too paranoid. There was always reason for it, though. Something was disturbing the natural flow of things and he could tell he'd have to get involved with it. 'Super duper,' he thought sarcastically.

When the door opened, Rebecca stood there in front of him. At least, he was pretty sure it was her. "Hello?" he asked in a friendly voice, in case it might not have been her.
 
"Hey Patrick, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

Rebecca smiled up at Patrick as she tugged her dress down...Yes, she was wearing a dress. She did usually wear something like this but today she felt like she should. On top vof that she hadn't done laundry in awhile so it was one of the few nice things she had hanging up. It was short and floral, stopping at her mid thigh. She had slipped a sweater over it for warmth and tossed on a pair of sandles to match. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and shifted to her other foot.

"So are you ready to go or do you have stuff to do?"
 
Hearing Rebecca's voice made him jubilant. Although he was expecting her, her visit had him pleasantly surprised. Being unable to see anything came with those enjoyments, but also downsides. With everyone he knew, he's mistaken them for someone else at least once. Hopefully, he'd not be so foolish towards Rebecca. He'd have to be more careful now.

"I'm ready to go," he answered with a smile. Patrick even had his shoes on already and he dressed before work, in his usual attire of jeans and a rather plain looking t-shirt. Today, he wore a primary green with a black hooded sweatshirt. They were the first items his hands grabbed and as planned by his family, it all coordinated nicely.

To shield his eyes from the ultraviolet radiation the sun gave, he slipped on his shades stepped out the door, his keys in hand so he could lock it. It took him some time to do so, since he was still getting acquainted with his new door. The keys were then pocketed and he stood still, waiting for her to lead the way.
 
As soon as Patrick locked the door she grabbed his hand gently and lead him to her car. It would be a short ride to where they were picking up the dog so they could easily take the dog around for a bit to see if it felt comfortable for him. She opened the door for him before walking to the drivers side and getting in herself and starting the car. She smiled a bit as she waited for Patrick to get comfortable, unable to stop herself from smiling more as she remembered last night. Even though she had lied to her mother about it she stil felt like she had done the right thing.

When he was seated and the door was closed she pulled off the curb and headed toward town. She turned off the radiio she had been listening to and glanced at Patrick out of the corner of her eye, clearing her throat a bit before speaking.

"So how was work this morning? Did you have any trouble or did eberything go smoothly?" She asked him politely, curious about what he had been up to while she was at school.
 
Patrick sat comfortably in the seat of her car, buckling the belt for safety. He expected the drive would be quiet, with few questions and topics. Judging by what they did during the day, there was little to discuss. Still, she asked with interest about how things went at work.

"It was okay. No problems today," he answered, making a shrug. "Except for the occasional angry customer, but that's expected. It all got sorted out."

During the ride, something put his senses on alarm. He couldn't see it, but the sky was turning even more ominous. Nobody could notice the increasing strangeness except for him, though. This, he could tell by the lack of screaming and acknowledgement of the city folk. A shady figure was lowering itself towards Rebecca's car, likely visible to her, too. Anyone Patrick was in contact with shared his mystical encounters.

"Rebecca," he said, surprisingly calm. "I think you should stop the car."

Patrick's jaw tightened, as did the hand he had around his white cane. The setting of buildings, parks and neighbourhoods all began to disappear in a background of black and navy blue. 'That fiend. He was waiting for me to leave.'
 
"That's good, I didn't have much going on today in class, just some reviews and discussion. Honestly, I would have prefered to skip it though, the class is far too easy." She said with a smile on her face.

She continued to drive, a look of curiousness going over face as she noticed the sky quickly getting dark. She hadn't remembered the news taking about there being any storms that day but it could have been something they missed. She didn't like the look of it though, it was getting dark far to quickly. She was prepared for any rain though, there was an umbrella somewhere in the back. When Patrick asked her to stop the car she looked at him curiously but did as he asked and pulled off to the side, parking along the curb. She then noticed he was getting tense and placed her hand on top of his.

"Is something wrong Patrick? You seem ten-" She started to say before she glanced into her rearview mirror and noticed something.

There seemed to be a shadowy figure slowly approching her car from behind. Her other hand instinctive moved to the door lock as er grip tightened around Patrick's hand.
 
Everything seemed to stop when they and the car became surrounded with the colour swirls. Nobody in the outside world had any idea what was going on. Patrick gave an assuring squeeze to Rebecca's hand, his thumb stroking the top of it affectionately. The figure that did this to them appeared in front of the car, his eyes on the windshield.

Just by the presence of that mysterious creature, Patrick could tell who it was. "Lothar. I'll make you regret this, if you don't put Rebecca back in her world," he said angrily, the milky blue of his irises disappearing behind a light of baby blue. The markings on his body that were assumed tattoos gave off a light as well, visible beneath his shirt.

"Why concern for the girl? She's only a human," Lothar replied, opening the book he held. "You have something I want, Patrick. Did you really think that hiding in this realm was going to stop me!?"

Following a foreign chant, shadows began to appear in front of the floating, cloaked stranger. There was a pair of men with stoic faces, their bodies clad with shiny, silver armour. One held an axe, the other held a sword and shield. They stepped closer to Rebecca's car, threatening to tear it apart if Patrick didn't step outside to battle.

The man made a sigh, his hand letting go of Rebecca's. "No matter what happens, you have to stay here. Understand?" he instructed her, opening the door. "I owe you... An explanation. I know."

With that, he was outside of the vehicle, a blind man versing two brutes who were ordered to capture, not kill. If not that, they'd surely torture him until Lothar received the information he desired. Patrick wasn't going to back down, though. The secrets of his family, his powers... That was not something he could give up.

Hearing heavy footsteps approach him, he clapped his hands together and sent visible sound waves in the warriors' direction. They grunted as they were sent backwards, their feet holding their ground. Still, they stomped towards Patrick, the one with the axe throwing his sharp weapon in the victim's direction. Patrick stepped to the side to avoid it, his hearing warning him of something heavy whizzing towards him. To his dismay, the axe took a turn so it would go back to its wielder's hand. Like a boomerang, it headed back, catching a side of Patrick's arm. He made an angry roar of pain, the deep gash already beginning to bleed. 'Gods, I've gotten rusty... And Lothar's gotten more creative.'

Narrowed, glowing eyes were looking in the two's direction, despite he couldn't see them. A deep breath was sucked in and when he let it out, he pursed his lips to make a high pitch whistle. Enraged by the noise, the fighters growled, but fell to their knees, dropping their weapons to cover their ears. Using this to his advantage, Patrick rushed towards the screaming men, his voice strong and musical when he did so. The series of notes seemed to magically make the men's armour fall off, clanking to the ground.

At this sound, Patrick launched his fists at the two of them, only aggravating them more. Even though they were disarmed, they were still capable fighters. All that could be seen at that point was a trio of men fist fighting. All Patrick could do was blindly swing his limbs about with hopes of landing an attack. When he was finally fed up with it, he made a shout loud enough to knock the two of them away from him, their bodies flying away. The impact knocked them unconscious, leaving Patrick to stand alone. His shirt was in tatters, bruises on his skin and blood trickling down a corner of his mouth.

"Come on, Lothar! Fight me yourself! You're a fucking coward!" he yelled, the adrenaline obviously taking him over. Patrick was looking left and right, hi handicap by no means helpful in the search.

Then, he lowered his defenses when Lothar disappeared, making a deep chuckle as he did so. The background returned to normal, with the curb they stopped at and everything. With a heavy, exhausted sigh, the wounded Patrick fell to the ground on his rear, his eyes and markings losing their glow.

'Dammit. God dammit...'
 
Rebecca looked around wildly as her car was comsumed by color, her heart racing nervously with fright as they were quickly trapped. She was greatful for Patrick's gentle touch but it did nothing for her nerves. When the stranger appeared in front of her windshield she nearly jumped right out of her seat, her free hand quickly moving to cover her mouth and keep herself from screaming. She could only watch in shock as Patrick and this Lothar bantered back and forth, Patrick glowing a bit with some unknown power.

Rebecca reached out to cling to Patrick's hand, not wanting to leave as the two armored men approched her car. She could always get repairs done, Patrick's life was far more important! However before she could get the nerve to speak he was gone as she was officially stuck alone in her ar, forced to watch Patrick face the brutes that this strange man summoned. She sat there with wide eyes as Patrick and the two warriors duked it out, Patrick throwing around some strange power as the warriors threw their weapons at him. She nearly cried out as he was cut deeply by the axe, her hands quickly covering her mouth to prevent any sounds from coming out. Finally she couldn't take it anymore and covered her eyes, not wanting to see the fight's outcome.

When Patrick cried out and the chuckle filled the air only to dissappear, Rebbeca peeked between her fingers to see what happened. The colors were gone and the street had returned to normal, the only difference was a tired and bleeding Patrick sitting in the street in front of her car. She quickly and shakily jumped out of the car, running over to Patrick as she pulled off her sweater to use it to wipe away the blood. Her nerves sarted to get the best of her as she wiped away the blood gently, tears running down her face as she looked over his injuries.

"A-are you okay?" She asked softly as she tried to keep her voice even, not wanting to worry him since he was still hurt and tired.
 
Patrick breathed heavily, his shoulders raising with every exhale and dropping with every inhale. A hand went to his mouth to wipe away a trail of saliva trickling from it, his eyes squinting when he did so. There was a bruise on his lap that was more painful than he expected. Hearing Rebecca in good health elated him, though. However, she could tell that she was crying. There was a tremble in her concerned, loving voice.

Just then, he calmed down more, all his boiling anger subsiding. He gave her a nod in response to her question, along with a reassuring smile. "Could be worse," he said optimistically, trying to keep the situation light hearted. With the way his body felt, he knew he acquired some terrible injuries. Keeping her from panicking helped distract him from the harm, thankfully.

"I'm sorry you had to see all that, Rebecca," Patrick said earnestly, while getting onto his feet. The worst wound he had was the cut from the axe, which he was thankful for not cutting off his arm. Otherwise, he was just a mess of bruises and scratches he found easy to ignore. Worse damage was done in the past and he was surprisingly pain tolerant.

"Are you okay?" he asked, so he'd know for certain. Patrick should have been more concerned about his condition, but he worried more about his beloved woman.
 
Rebecca let out a shaky breath as she tried to calm herself down, glad to hear that Patrick wasn't hurt to badly. She wouldn't know what to do if he had gotten knocked out or worse. She stepped back a bit as he stood up, staying close in case he couldn't get up on his own. She couldn't believe that all over that had just happened but all of his injuries was proof enough to ensure that had. She hastily wipped her face, trying to stay calm, and cleared her throat.

"I'm fine...I'm fine but god Patrick...What was that?" She asked him as she looked over his wounds.

He had only one really nasty cut on his arm, the rest of his injuries were simple scratches and brusies. She wished she knew what to do then, if she could do anything. She'd have to take him to a doctor, or at lesat back to his house. His seeing eye dog could wait till tomorrow, right now what was important was making sure that nothing serious was wrong with him. She wasn't sure if she could drive right now though, she was so jumpy from the fight that she'd freak out at the slightest little movement. She reached out and grabbed onto his shirt lightly and pulled herself closer, feeling herself starting to cry again as she started to worry once again.
 
Patrick heaved an exhausted sigh as he stood there, expecting her to snatch him up and stuff him into the car to go to the emergency room or head back to his house. Instead, she was inquiring about the cause of his injuries, then stood closer to him, crying some more. She didn't know what to do; he couldn't blame her. The loss of blood was making him light headed, but he kept strong. Dropping onto the concrete was not ideal... Though, he did wonder if anyone was around, possibly staring at them. He wasn't keen on the idea of a stranger towing him to safety.

"There's a lot to explain. For now, I'll just say that I come from a realm of magic. It's tested, taught, used and combined with other elements just like the scientists of your realm do with laws of nature, biology and chemistry," he told her, hoping that made sense. With his condition, he couldn't give her a decent answer. Not until later.

"Anyway, I should get home," Patrick suggested in a hazy voice, his weight feeling like it might collapse onto her.
 
Rebecca held onto him tightly as she cried, trying to stay quiet so she could listen to him properly. She had been so worried about and now all of her nerves were messing up her senses, she needed to calm down. His explination made a little sense, though he'd have a lot more to tell her for her to get it completely. Just hearing him talk was helping her calm and she quickly took advantage of this before her mind forced her to remember what she was and made her a sobbing mess again.

"O-okay...okay I think I get it...I'll get you home now. I'll spend the night again too, I don't want you to be alone with you hurt like this. I-I'll get some stuff from my house and make you dinner and you c-can tell me more while you rest...." She said as she slowly started to lead him to the car.

She wanted to get home as soon as possible. For one she didn't want anyone to see them like this. The road they were one was rather empty so it gave them privacy but anyone could come down the road any minute and see them. They might even stop and ask what happened, something she couldn't answer because of the circumstances. She also just wanted to get to her house and then lock herself away from the world with him. She'd stop at her house quickly, grab some cans of soup and a change of clothing and spend the night again, just to make sure he was okay.
 
Patrick groaned tiredly when he sat down in the car seat, buckling in with shaking hands. To not spill blood onto her car's interior, he held his hand onto the gash on his arm, droplets seeping through the cracks of his fingers, but not making it to the seat below him. He was feeling faint, yet kept fighting. A little voice was telling him not to give into weakness, for Rebecca's sake more than anything. She needed to stay calm; he was depending on her.

When they arrived back at their neighbourhood, he searched the door for the handle so he could step out, forgetting there was crimson fluid on his hand. Red prints were left on the handle when he pulled it, some fingerprints dotting the door as well. He couldn't think right, but in the future he'd probably offer to help clean up the mess he made.

Using his cane as support wasn't the best idea, so he resisting putting all his weight onto it, much as he wanted to. His handicap was getting the best of him, causing him to walk completely in the wrong direction. Patrick was headed right into the street, which luckily wasn't busy, considering it was a residential area. "Rebeccaaaa..." he mumbled, his other hand moving blindly in the air in search of her.
 
The drive back into the neighbourhood had done enough to sober her up, the look of Patrick completely weak and injured making her instinct to help kick in. She moved quickly and neatly as she parked the car in front of Patrick's house. She'd get him cleaned up and settled first before she darted home and packed an overnight bag. She was not going to leave him along with suck injuries and she could grab a few things that she could use to make him some dinner, her fridge was always over stocked anyway so her mother wouldn't notice if she was missing anything.

Got out of the car quickly and locked it, grabbing her purse and books so that she could just take them in and work one homework while he rested. She then turned and darted after Patrick, gently pulling him back and leading him toward the house, wrapping her arm around his waist so she could help him take a bit of weight off of his feet. She lean him up to his front door and pulled the keys out of his pocket, not wanting to wait forever as he stumbled around and also hoping to avoid him spreading any blood all over him. She opened the door and quickly set her things to the side before she lead him to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She made him sit on the toilet and started to fumble though his cabinets, hoping to find something to clean and cover the wounds with.
 
Patrick could hardly noticed he was being dragged into his home. His senses had been dulled, decreasing awareness as his body tried to put him to sleep. He sat there on the toilet while she shuffled about his restroom, in search of medical supplies. There was a first-aid kit under the sink, courtesy of his thoughtful parents when he moved. He forgot it was even there to begin with, but she'd surely find it in her persistent searching.

Sighing heavily, he slumped backwards, finding comfort in the slouching position. His white stick was dropped onto the floor, too. Unlike his living room, his bathroom had a theme. The shower curtain was checkered lime green and blue, coordinating with the rugs and towels he had. There was even a painting hung on the wall with those same colours, the image of a fish school blended with the sea. Patrick had no clue the picture even existed, but there had to be a purpose for it. Probably so that the visitors he might have would be more comfortable?

"I'm sorry," he moaned painfully, for some reason feeling the need to apologize for her.
 
Rebecca continued her search desperatly and eventually found the first aid kit hiding under some cleaning supplies. She hastily pulled it out and moved over to Patrick, pulling the kit open as she took a look at his cut. It was deep but it didn't seem to need stiches so she quickly started to wipe the wound clean with towel and some antiseptic.

"This will hurt a little." She said softly to him as she shook her head a bit. "And don't apologize either. It's not your fault."

She went quiet after that and finished cleaning up the blood before she started to wrap up his arm. She didn't want to think about what happened anymore, she just wanted to get him cleaned up. She tried to be as gentle as possible with his arm and when she was done she started to work on his other injuries. Becca hoped that he could stay awake for just a little longer, she wasn't sure if she could get him to bed on her own.
 
The moment he felt that disinfectant touch the wound on his arm, he froze, every muscle in his body tensing. It all so much effort to hold back any dramatic vocal responses. All that came out were hisses and grunts, his blind eyes even disappearing behind tightly knit eyelids. Patrick was fairly tolerant of pain, but the injury on his arm was not something he could ignore. Especially with the effects of what Rebecca was adding to it! Thankfully, she was gentle. She might not have been experienced with wounds, but to him, it came naturally.

When she was finished, he let out a heavy breath; one he was holding for quite some time. A hand searched blindly for a counter top and when it did, he used that as support to help stand up. He would rather fight against weakness than let someone else do all the work. Despite his handicap, he wanted to hold his own.

Unfortunately, he couldn't get too far without some mean of support. He had to lean onto Rebecca along the way, but he did his best not to let his weight collapse onto her. The moment he felt the bed, he let himself sit onto it. Oddly, he didn't want to lay down. Not until he was stripped of his nasty, bloody clothing.

"Thank you," Patrick told her meekly, yet nonetheless gratefully.
 
Rebecca quickly helped Patrick up and over to his bed, letting him lean onto her as much as he needed to at the moment. She set him down on his bed and moved over to his closet to get him something cleaner to wear, his clothing was splattered in blood. She pulled him out a plain T-chirt and some sweat pants to wear. She set them down next to him and looked him over for a moment before leaning down an dplacing a small kiss on his forehead, the action for to comfort herself than him. She had been so worried and she was glad to see him doing a little better.

"It's not problem...I pulled out some clean clothing for you. Do you need help putting it on? I-I'm gonna go home for a bit and pack an overnight bag and get some stuff so I can make you dinner. I don't want to leave you alone tonight. I don't have classes tomorrow and I can tell my mom I'm tutoring someone in a class." She said to him quietly, wanting him to know where she would be going.
 
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