Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Patton quickly scrawls on his paper, desperately trying to copy down the lengthy requirements for the project, knowing that he will otherwise forget. Most of the rest of the class is scrambling around as they meet with their assigned groups. Patton’s pretty sure that his name had been called, but quickly forgot who was called with him. Instead of attempting to remember- which he knows will be futile- he decides he’ll let them come to him why he tries to get the rest of the requirements for the project down.

“Patton, right?” a girl says off to his side.

“Yeah,” Patton responds, “One minute.”

Quickly two other people join them, but Patton hardly pays attention as he continues to write.

“Can we get started?” the same girl repeats.

“I’m just finishing writing down the instructions.”

“Can’t you do that later?”

“I’ll forget, it’ll just take a second more,” he insists.

She huffs, but lets him continue.

Patton returns to his writing, looking back up at the screen and then down at the paper, trying to find where he left off.

“You’re at the third to last line,” the girl snaps, when he doesn’t immediately find his place.

Patton ducks his head, shoulders scrunching inwards, and finishes the last three lines without comment.

“Okay,” he says, putting it aside, “I’m done.”

The other three people have made a small circle with him. Most other groups are already chatting. Patton looks at his three partners and recognizes that he’s probably aware of them, but certainly doesn’t recognize them.

“Can we start with names?” he asks.

There’s a pause where none of them say anything.

“Hi,” he introduces, “I’m Patton.”

“I know,” the girl who spoke to him previously comments, “We have two classes together this year and we had math together last year. Do you really not know my name?”

Patton balks.

“Sorry,” he replies, as he tries to figure out what to share and what to leave out, because he knows how this goes. He’s seen as rude if he doesn’t say anything, but at the same time he really doesn’t want to share his whole medical history. He hates the casual ableism that expects him too. “I- uh, have memory issues.”

“Oh I get that,” one of the other members says, “I’m incredibly forgetful too!”

Yeah that's not what Patton meant. There’s a difference between forgetfulness and memory loss. But whatever, it isn’t something Patton wants to debate right now.

“Oh and I’m Alise,” she adds.

“Jack,” the boy at her side mutters.

The girl that originally interrupted Patton huffs but introduces herself as “Sabrina.”

Patton nods, scrawling each of the names on the page as his project even though he’ll probably forget that the names are there, and won't remember whose name was whose.

“Okay so I was thinking about the project and we have four weeks, so I started creating a timeline where each person can get their part done in a reasonable time in an orderly manner so we aren’t procrastinating or falling behind,” Sabrina says quickly, pulling out a paper and gesturing to it. “This project is worth a significant part of our final grade and it’s really important we do well on it.”

“Oh, uh, we actually get three extra weeks,” Patton says, “I have certain accommodations for schooling. This project we get to start with three extra weeks and then if we’re still struggling we can communicate that and potentially work other accommodations out too.”

“Accommodations?” the other girl asks. Patton fails to remember her name.

“Yeah,” Patton says, “I have accommodations in school due to disability. This project we get three extra weeks.”

“I don’t know about that,” the first girl says, and great now Patton’s forgot her name too.

“We do,” he says, “If you don’t understand or don’t believe me we can talk to Mr. Z.”

The girl hesitates. Patton waits.

“Okay… but like, those extra weeks are only if we need them, right?”

Yes. They extra weeks are there if they need them. Patton needs them. That’s why they’re there.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Right, so… we’ll just try not to use them then,” the girl remarks and what’s her name again? He looks down and there's three names scrawled across his paper, Jack, Sabrina, and Alise. So which one is she?

Patton could ask, but she doesn’t think she would take that kindly.

“Okay so here’s the plan…” she starts to explain, laying each part out. He’s already exhausted.

Patton ignores Dani’s and Liam’s arguing in the background, instead turning to watch Blythe enter the room and flop down on the couch next to him in preparation for family movie night.

“What are we watching?” she asks with a yawn.

Dani and Liam’s voices both rise to argue for their movie as their mom comes racing back in to settle them both. Blythe shares an amused smile with Patton. Patton rolls his eyes at his younger siblings- as if he didn’t get into similar bickering with his siblings on occasion- and turned back to his phone which had buzzed a few times in the past minutes.

He opens his phone to find a text string he doesn’t recognize. He frowns slightly and taps it. The texts at the beginning are a quick reminder or what it’s for: Patton’s newest group project. He saves all the numbers quickly and tries to commit their names to memory before glancing back at the actual texts.

They seem to be texting about meeting up one day, so Patton quickly finds the date planned.

“Hey Blythe,” he says when he finds it.

“Hmm?”

“Remember March 10th for me?”

“Sure,” she says.

Patton nods and closes his texts, going to the calendar app instead and landing on March. He stares at it for a second. He just said that date. What was it?

“What was the date?” he asks.

“March 10th,” Blythe responds back.

Patton nods and clicks on the date.

His schedule quickly comes up, and he frowns at the noticeable conflict.

“Blythe?”

“Ye- ACK- Yeah?”

“Doctor’s appointment, March 10th.”

“M’kay.”

Patton goes back to the group chat and texts out a quick apology, explaining he has a doctor’s appointment that day.

“Thanks Blythe.”

“No problem. Who do you think is gonna win?” she asks, nodding at Liam and Dani.

“Hmm?” Patton asks, putting his phone down. He turns to look at his younger siblings who are still arguing over movies, if much more calmly. “Liam,” he decides on, “He’s the baby. You can’t say no to him.”

“True- but he caves easily. My money’s on Dani.”

Patton settles in to watch.

Suddenly Blythe gets up next to him. Patton watches her with interest, expecting her to get involved in Liam and Dani’s movie debate. But Liam and Dani aren’t there anymore. In fact, Dani sprawled out against the other couch and Liam’s falling asleep in a bunch of pillows on the floor. Patton looks up and on the screen in front of him- the movies credits are rolling. Patton couldn’t say what movie. He doesn’t remember.

Holy shit did he just forget an entire two hours?

A full two hours. With no supplemental memories or feelings or- or anything?

Patton grabs at his mind and he thinks he was maybe… maybe content during the movie. The emotion is reassuring but he really can’t remember anything past that.

“I’m headed to bed- ACK ah-” Blythe announces, head twisting with a tic as she finishes her statement, “Night.”

She gets a chorus of replies and everyone else starts to move to return to their own rooms to sleep. Patton stays seated- still as he tries to process what happened.

“Pat?” Blythe asks, “Hey Pat, you okay?”

Blythe’s words draw everyone’s attention to him.

“I, uh-”

Is he okay?

Memory gaps like this- large ones with no additional information- have been happening more and more recently and they’re terrifying. It’s scary being somewhere one moment and then somewhere else the next and having to scramble for context clues to figure out everything in the middle.

Patton’s always dealt with time gaps, and while annoying he knows how to deal with them. But lately they’ve been getting worse and Patton doesn’t know what that means.

What if he forgets everything one day?

“Hey, hey,” Blythe soothes, coming back over to kneel at the couch in front of Patton. She offers a hand and Patton takes it. “What’s going on?”

What does Patton say?

“I- uh… Who won? Dani or Liam. With the movie?”

The room stops and Patton knows it’s his fault- it’s his stupid brain’s fault but he’s terrified right now and doesn’t know how to communicate that.

“Pat,” comes Liam’s small voice- much too small, “Pat do you not remember the movie?”

And how does Pat tell his little brother that no- no he doesn’t he has no clue what happened in the past two hours.

“Is Patton okay?” Dani asks. “Is he going to forget more?”

While Patton’s younger siblings worry over him- which while touching make Patton feel incredibly guilty- his mom approaches him.

“Blythe, can you please go help your Ma with your siblings?” she asks as she takes Patton’s other hand and rubs it comfortingly.

“Yeah,” Blythe responds easily, “ACK- Pat that okay with you?”

Patton nods and Blythe leaves.

“Do you know where you are?” is his mom’s first question.

“Yeah,” Patton answers and that’s relieving but he’s terrified, “yeah. We were going to watch a movie. For family movie night. Dani and Liam were arguing. Blythe sat with me. You and Ma were trying to get Dani and Liam to work it out. I don’t- I don’t remember after that. I think I had a good time though?”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me. How are you doing? Do you have any questions for me?”

Patton’s terrified. This is terrifying. But he can’t say that. It’s already bad enough, he doesn’t need to scare his entire family further. He never wants to hear that hint of fear in Liam's voice again, never wants to see the terror on Dani’s face as she considers that her brother might forget everything eventually.

“I’m fine,” he insists, “Are Dani and Liam okay?”

“They’ll be okay, but let's focus on you right now honey, okay?”

“Okay,” Patton agrees, not even trying to argue. He tilts his face down so he doesn’t have to look at his mom’s worried face. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. His mom continues to rub at his hand soothingly. The dog tries to wiggle her way into his lap, and Patton lets her. Her fur feels nice.

His ma comes back into the room, because she and mom exchange words quickly for a moment while Patton gets lost in his head. Eventually she kneels at his side as well and takes his other hand.

A lump forms in Patton’s throat.

He doesn’t want to cry.

He can’t cry.

He knows it’s okay if he cries. But if he cries that means he’s hurting and his moms can’t know that he’s hurting because they’ll feel bad and there’s nothing Patton can do to fix it. He doesn’t know how to fix this.

“How you doing, love?”

“Okay,” Pat replies.

“Okay. That’s good. Do you know where your notebook is?”

“My backpack? Or my desk. Probably.”

She nods and carefully pulls her hand away, most likely going in search for it.

She returns soon after, the light blue notebook clutched in her hand. She flicks through the patches, written accounts of Patton’s memory gaps. Full gaps, not just missing info. The past few months fill up almost as many pages as the rest of the book. It scares Patton.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” his Ma asks him, firm but somehow gentle. It’s information she needs, but Patton feels safe despite not quite knowing the answer.

“Dani and Liam were arguing about movies. Blythe and me were talking about who we thought would win.”

“Do you remember what Dani and Liam were saying? It’s okay if you don’t- I’m trying to get a more exact time if possible.”

Patton shakes his head.

“Okay,” his ma says, “That’s alright. We’ll ask Blythe. And what’s the next thing you remembered?”

“I- Blythe got up to go to bed. Everyone was on the couches. There were credits on the screen.”

She scrawls in the notebook. Patton knows it has to have been about two hours.

“Anything else you remember?” his mom gently prods as his ma writes.

It’s a question that often makes Patton feel guilty because the answer is often more likely ‘no’ than ‘yes,’ but he knows it’s necessary.

“I- I remember feeling content, I think,” he says,”I don’t remember anything about the movie or watching it- but I think I had a good time. I’m pretty sure.”

It’s not a concrete memory, but it’s an emotional one and it’s something.

At least he seemed to enjoy the movie, or the time with his family, or something. Right?

“Okay,” his ma says, and writes it down. “Just to remind you- you have a doctor’s appointment on the tenth to talk about the recent large gaps in your memory. It’s in your phone calendar, and the big calendar in the kitchen.”

“Oh. I do? That’s good.”

They need to figure this out. Patton wants it to stop. And if it can’t stop, they need to figure out how to deal with it because right now Patton’s terrified. His family’s terrified. Patton knows they are and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He has to fix it.

“Yeah. Do you want to go to bed? It’s late.”

“Okay,” Patton agrees, His voice echoes. He feels hollow.

His mom helps him up, a hand on his back for support and a hand in front in case he loses his balance. His knees and back both protest the movement. He wonders how long he was sitting in the same position for them to lock up like that.

Two hours. Patton lost two hours.

He goes to bed. Tries to sleep. His moms tell him goodnight and that they love him. It’s a simple gesture, his moms have always been so good at telling him that they love him and Patton knows they do. He’s never questioned their love. They love him unconditionally.

It makes Patton hurt inside.

They love him unconditionally.

And yet, look at what Patton’s putting them through.

They’d never stop loving him, Patton knows that.

But maybe they should. Patton keeps hurting them. He doesn’t want to hurt them.

Chapter Text

“Hi Patton,” the doctor greets, and he notes how she doesn’t even have to glance down at her sheet to remember his name. He’s here often enough.

“Hi,” he responds.

She starts with basic questions and Patton answers as normal. He’s already been asked the same by the nurse who came to check his blood pressure earlier.

“So you’re having larger memory gaps?” she finally gets to.

“Yeah,” Patton agrees, “Sometimes more than an hour long.”

“How often is that happening? And how long on average?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, and looks over at his mom. She has his journal out, and the stats ready to go.

“About once every week, averaging about fifty minutes that we’ve noticed,” she responds. The doctor nods and makes a note.

“Okay. And describe these gaps to me a bit more. Do you remember anything during that time?”

The conversation carries on, Patton and his mom receiting medical information as the doctor tries to piece together what’s going on.

“I think from here I’m going to order a blood test, a CT scan, and an EEG,” she tells them.

“That uh, seems like a lot,” Patton comments.

Holy shit his brain is really fucked up isn’t it?

“What are all those for?” his mom asks.

“Well these larger memory gaps are concerning- and considering we haven’t seen them in you before, Patton, I want to get a blood test to make sure we’re not overlooking any infections. The MRI we’ve down before and with that we’re looking for any noticeable changes in your brain. I also want an EEG, and this one specifically to track electrical ability in your brain to see if this is maybe the result of seizures.”

“You think I’m having seizures?” Patton asks.

“To be completely honest Patton- we don’t quite know what’s going on. We know your history of memory issues and loss is linked to you contracting meningitis at such a young age. Memory loss with meningitis isn’t unheard of. It does concern me that this seems to be getting dramatically worse, especially over a recent short period of times. That’s why I’m calling for these tests. And I do think there’s a potential that this new form of memory loss is in fact seizure activity, which you are also at increased chances of having due to meningitis. Hopefully these tests will allow us to get a clearer picture of what we’re looking at, so we can better deal with the issue on hand.”

That meant that they don’t know anything now.

And if they don’t know anything now, after sixteen years, that probably meant they weren’t ever going to know.

It’s one thing to adjust to new medical information, to get used to gaps in time and increased memory loss with results guiding them, tell Patton what was happening.

It’s a whole different thing to have to get used to that without any further information, completely lost, stumbling through the dark.

Patton thinks he probably shouldn’t be wishing for a reason. Because a reason means something’s wrong with him. But, he already knows something’s wrong. At least a reason would explain that. Is it so bad to want a reason?

They set up the blood test, CT, and EEG appointments. Patton gets to go home after. He doesn’t feel up to homework, so he takes his binder off and lays down to take a nap. He’s so tired.

Of course, those plans are quickly foiled by his phone buzzing on his bedside table.

Patton groans but sits up carefully and reaches for the object. He opens it and reads through the texts.

It’s from a person named Sabrina, in a group chat, but Patton doesn’t know of any Sabrina’s. He scrolls up through past texts and quickly finds his answer. He’s in a group project with these kids for a class.

He sighs and gets up to get his notebook for the class.

With the notebook now in hand he sits at his desk with it and his phone.

Sabrina has sent a long list of things they each need to do, spelling out each of their work in the project in exact detail. Patton’s a bit frustrated that she didn’t even bother to ask his input on what he wanted to do, but quickly brushes it off. He understands that it probably has to be incredibly frustrating to be in a group with him. Patton works at almost half the speed and has to constantly check with partners that they’re on the same page.

It’s- he wishes she would have asked him. It would have been nice. But he gets why she didn't. It isn’t a big deal.

He opens up his computer next to his notebook, and starts to work. He has the spoons to do work today, might as well.

Not much later, the door swings open and the dog starts barking, alerting Patton to the fact that his younger siblings are home. He can hear Liam chattering loudly and greeting the dog even as Dani stays silent at his side. Patton listens to their fading voices with a fond smile.

Except, their voices aren’t actually fading as they go up to their respective rooms. Instead, they’re getting closer, and suddenly there’s an excited knocking on his door.

“Eileeeeen,” Liam sings, “Can we come in?”

The use of his deadname twists in his stomach for a minute. He knows Liam doesn’t mean it, they’re all learning. Patton still finds him misgendering himself on occasion.

Even so, it still hurts.

He could correct Liam. It’s just- Patton doesn’t want to make him feel bad. Plus it takes effort and it’s-

“Door’s open,” he replies, ignoring his thoughts.

Liam and Dani tumble in.

“Pat!” Liam says, zooming over to where Patton sits at his desk. He does a little bounce. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Course,” Patton responds, grinning down at his little brother easily, “Just be gentle please.”

Liam nods and embraces him, being especially careful around his back. Patton remembers how much he loves him as he holds him close.

“So? What’s up with the two of you?” Patton asks when Liam breaks the embrace.

“Me and Dani had an idea!” Liam announces.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, “We thought the three of us and Blythe could go out for ice cream!”

“It was Liam’s idea,” Dani quickly affirms, as if somehow trying to get out of going out for ice cream.

“Yeah it was!” Liam’s quick to agree, “Because Dani did really well on her math test today!”

Dani’s cheeks instantly turn red and she ducks her head.

“Liam,” she hisses out, “You said you wouldn’t say anything.”

“You did?!” Patton exclaims, “Dani that’s awesome!”

“It’s only because you sat and helped me,” she grumbles, “I couldn’t figure it out myself.”

“I barely helped,” Patton and insists, “and either way, you did it yourself on the test. And it’s not a bad thing to need help.”

Dani ducks her head again and continues to blsh vibrantly.

“So can we go for ice cream?” Liam pushes.

“Go get Blythe and we can,” Patton tells him.

Liam immediately leaves Patton’s side, sprinting out of his room and upstairs to locate Blythe, shrieking all the way.

Dani rolls her eyes at Liam’s actions.

“Hey don’t roll your eyes,” Patton teases, “Who was it that tried to sled down the stairs in a bucket of stuffed animals?”

“Patton!” she groans, “That was one time!”

“And who is it that helps Liam wake up everyone with ear-piercing screeches on Christmas morning?”

“Ugh!” she groans, and storms out of the room, but the small smile on her face doesn’t escape Patton’s notice.

Patton stands to put on a bra before following her out of his room. He meets her in the living room just as Blythe and Liam are coming down the stairs.

“I- huh- heard we’re getting ice cream apparently- ah?” she says.

“I guess so,” Patton agrees.

She sighs, smile also fond if a bit exasperated, and herds them all to the car.

Patton forgets the ride there. He writes himself a note and pulls Blythe quietly aside to inform her so he doesn’t forget to add it to his log.

Liam leads the way to the ice cream parlor and he’s about to race the final stretch to the door when a woman stops Dani.

“Are you okay?” she asks, peering intentionally at Dani.

Patton’s big brother instincts step in full speed, he scans Dani over looking for any signs of harm, physical, emotional, or otherwise.

But Dani just seems confused.

“What, yeah I’m fine?”

The woman purses her lips and leans down to whisper- though it’s plenty loud enough for Patton, Blythe, and Liam to hear.

“Do you know these people?” she asks, eyebrows knitted in tense concern as her eyes scan the three of them warily. Patton feels his stomach sink. Blythe takes a half step to the side to block Liam from view.

Dani looks outright murderous.

Patton internally begs her to think before she speaks.

“Yes,” she says, “I’m getting ice cream with my siblings. I’m fine.”

The woman blinks.

“Oh these are your siblings? But you’re…” she trails off, but all of them knew what she was going to say. White. Dani’s white. Blythe, Patton, and Liam aren’t.

“Bye,” Dani sas coldly, and turns away.

The woman mutters something and leaves.

Exactly after, Blythe shakes her head with a suppressed tic and her arm follows. She lets out a loud yelp and immediately slams a hand over her mouth as she turns to watch the still retreating women in fear. She doesn’t turn around. Blythe takes her hand away. Liam’s smaller one clings onto it.

Besides Blythe’s tics, they’re all silently frozen for a minute.

“Hey Liam,” Dani asks, “What ice cream are you going to get.”

Liam looks up at her and pushes a smile back on his face.

“I dunno,” he says, and his cheerfulness only seems a little bit forced, “There’s so many choices. There’s strawberry but I also really like chocolate, but the sherbet is so pretty. Oh! And the cotton candy made my tongue turn blue once! That was fun!” he rambles, and the four of them continue towards the store.

Liam, predictably chooses rocky road. He almost always does, no matter how often he talks about all the other flavors. Patton doesn’t really get it. He gets cookie dough this time.

Patton’s knee is starting to hurt, so he takes his ice cream and herds his siblings to a table as Blythe pays.

“How’s your day been?” Blythe asks at one point when Dani is busy scowling at Liam as he tries to convince her to play a game with him.

“Eh,” Patton admits, because Blythe he’s always been able to be honest around, “Doctor went fine, but was frustrating. Same thing as always- they have no clue what’s going on. But I’ve had a surprising amount of spoons today which has been nice.”

“Spoons,” Liam speaks up, “But you only have one?” He stares in confusion at Patton’s spoon in his ice cream.

Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah. This is a different type of spoon.”

“What other types of spoons are there?”

“Lemme show you,” Patton. He looks around, but doesn’t find any spoons. But Blythe is a;ready way ahead of him, speaking to someone at the counter with a smile. The person’s face is drawn and they are a bit, but they pass over a large handful of spoons regardless.

“Okay,” Patton says as Blythe hands him the spoons. “This is something called spoon theory. I’m going to have you hold the spoons, and then we’re going to talk about your day.”

“Okay?” Liam says, confused even as Patton hands him the spoons. His smaller hands hold them awkwardly.

“So walk me through your day, share everything you did.”

“I got up and went to school today?” Liam says, almost like it’s a question.

“That’s good,” Patton encourages, “but more detail. What did you do very first today?”

“I woke up and got out of bed.”

Patton nods, and reaches over and takes a spoon from his brother’s hands. Liam looks up at him in shock.

“You took the spoon!”

“Yup,” Patton agrees, “What’s the next thing you did?”

“I took a shower.”

Another spoon is taken away. Liam doesn’t say anything this time, but watches Patton. Dani, who was previously looking at the window, tries to subtly focus her attention on what’s happening.

“I ate breakfast. I got my backpack ready for school. I walked to school. I went to all my classes. I walked home from school.”

Five more spoons disappear. Liam has less than half left.

“What happens when the spoons run out?” he asks.

“What do you think happens?” Patton encourages. Because there’s no real way for Liam to understand his life, there’s no way for Liam to understand the constant pain, the draining energy, the calculations Patton puts into each day. This is the best metaphor he’s heard of.

“Well you’re taking away spoons when I do something,” he says, “So… if I run out I can’t do more things?”

“Exactly. Good job,” Patton praises.

Liam grins at the attention, but his expression quickly morphs into a frown.

“What if I run out of spoons before the day’s over? And I can’t do anything? What happens if I don’t have more spoons?”

“You have to wait until you get spoons back,” Patton explains. “Sometimes resting helps, sometimes you just have to wait. Sometimes you wake up and you start with more spoons, or less.”

“I don’t- I don’t think I run out of spoons?” Liam says. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s okay,” Patton encourages, “It’s not supposed to be you, it’s supposed to be me.”

“Well why do you have spoons and I don’t? Am I going to get spoons one day? It doesn’t seem very good.”

“I have spoons because I’m disabled. It’s how my life works. I start with spoons and I have to learn how to use them and manage them so I don’t run out. And that can be really hard.”

“So you rest more. And can’t do as many things sometimes,” Liam adds on.

“Yeah,” Patton encourages.

Liam frowns and quickly whispers some things to himself, setting down spoons as he does so. Eventually, all of them rest on the table.

“There’s not enough spoons for ice cream,” he realizes. “I’m sorry. I made you come.”

“You didn’t make me come,” Patton tells him, “Ice cream did take a spoon. But I have a bit more spoons today, and it was a spoon I was willing to spend. I’m okay. I just need you to listen to me when I sometimes say I can’t do things or need a break or need more time. Okay? Can you do that?”

“Yes!” Liam is quick to reassure. Dani nods slightly off to the side.

“Awesome,” Pat says, “Thank you.”

Soon enough, Liam is rambling about his day again, even getting Dani to chip in about hers as they finish their melting ice cream. It’s a nice moment.

The next morning Patton wakes up to a screeching alarm clock and a buzzing phone. HE groans, shutting the alarm off first before checking his texts.

It’s a group chat, with three names he doesn’t recognize, asking him about dates for something. He frowns and opens it, scrolling up the chat to realize it’s a group project for one of his classes. They’re asking him about dates to meet up.

But the dates they sent don’t work for him, Patton knows they don't. Why don’t they?

He checks his phone calendar, realizes that’s when he has to go back to the doctor. He- he has to get some tests done, right?

He’ll check his notes later to be sure. Right now he needs to text the group chat that he can’t do those dates

To: Group

Patton: Sorry cant do those times. Doctors appointment.

Now that that’s done, he gets out of bed.

And the moment he stands a spasm of pain rolls through his back. He catches himself on his bed before he falls over and hisses through grit teeth. The pain starts to subside. Somewhat.

He takes a breath. He waits a minute. Then, he carefully stands full upright, focusing on each tiny movement his back makes.

It feels like it’s on fire. But at least now it’s starting to simmer versus torch him. He carefully rolls his shoulders. His back settles somewhat, settling at a low familiar ache. Patton doesn’t risk his binder today. Dysphoria sucks, but the chance of causing further damage to his back and increasing his pain isn;t worth it. He grabs his cane.

-

Patton’s day sucks.

His back continues to spasm at random points, sending harsh shooting pains all across it. He doesn’t want to risk stretching out at school, where he doesn’t have a place to lie down or someone to help him if he needs it. But he’s pretty sure that sitting all day is making it worse.

It hurts.

But finally it’s his last class of the day and the bell’s ringing and Patton can finally go home and there’s a person approaching him and she’s saying his name and Patton really does not want to talk to anyone right now he wants to rest.

But Patton doesn’t know what she wants, maybe she needs something, so he puts on a bright grin and nods in her direction from his seat.

“You can't keep flaking,” she tells him.

Patton blinks- unsure what she’s even talking about. She seems to know him but Patton has literally zero clue who she is and he doubts she’d be okay with him asking if her aggressive attitude is anything to go off of.

“What?” he says instead.

“Look. This is a group project. That’s two days in a row you’ve said you can’t meet up during, with the same excuse of a doctor’s visit. You need to put in effort here.”

Oh. Patton knows who she is now.

There’s a little bit of anger that comes with her statement too. Because here she is, coming in with anger and aggression because Patton’s missed two days and automatically assumes he’s lying. He gets it- most people don’t go to the doctor as often as he does. But she could have been nicer.

Patton doesn't blame her though. Maybe she’s had a bad day. Most people do use the “I have to go to the doctor” excuse.

Either way, she does need to hear the truth.

“I wasn’t flaking,” he insists.

“Really?” she asks, an eyebrow raised and shaking her head, “Two doctor’s appointments in two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“What could you possibly need to see a doctor about twice in two weeks now?”

Patton admits that at this point his patience is thinning. He’s telling the truth and now she’s pressing into his private medical information and it’s not fair. It’s not fair, Patton shouldn’t have to share this with her but she expects him to. Why is Patton expected to share everything medical with everyone?

She doesn’t know though. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know.

That makes it okay?

“That’s private information,” he eventually settles on.

She’s not going to believe him. She’s not- Patton can see it on her face, her disbelieving eyes, her scorn. She doesn’t believe and there’s no way she will unless Patton tells her everything- about how his memory doesn’t fucking work and sometimes he forgets huge chunks of times and he still doesn’t know her name and forgets that he’s even in a group project because his memory doesn’t even work-

She huffs.

She doesn’t believe him.

“This project is really important,” she tells him, “And I need an A in this class. Get your shit together.”

She storms out of the classroom.

Patton sighs, takes a breath. It’s surprisingly hard to breathe. He stands carefully, watching his back for any signs that it doesn’t like what he’s doing. It hurts. He stands, grabs his cane, leaves the classroom. He goes home. He’s not sure what else he can do.

Chapter Text

Patton wakes to searing pain that courses through his entire body, pain strong enough that it makes his breathing hitch and stomach curl with nausea. He squeezes his eyes tight as if that would do anything to help. Maybe this is all a bad dream he’ll wake up from. He’s not hopeful. He doesn’t dare risk moving, the fire in his body so unbearable that Patton doesn’t risk doing anything. He takes small shallow breaths and wishes for it to be over.

He fades in and out of consciousness. He’s not sure if thats due to pain or exhaustion. He remembers glancing over at his clock at one point and finding it significantly early, though Patton can’t remember what time it read. He doesn’t know if he forgot from pain, or if it’s just his memory failing him once more.

He wants to cry, but he doesn’t risk it because heavy loud crying will make his body shake and that will just make everything worse.

He briefly wishes he had no bones, just a puddle of human goop that doesn’t ache, before realizing that would only help so much. A lot of the pain is in his joints, but it’s also in his nerves and getting rid of bones wouldn’t help that any.

So maybe he gets rid of his bones and nerves.

He wouldn’t feel anything that way.

He could go back to sleep forever without pain.

He almost wishes for it.

Almost.

He’s not quite sure what stops him.

He floats in a haze, not quite awake, not quite asleep. Tiredness seeps into his body, dragging him to sleep, and the pain fights it, demanding Patton’s awake to feel the torture it performs on him.

His alarm goes off at some point, and he barely pays any notice to it. He’s in too much pain to think of anything but the pain, and thinking of the pain makes it worse. It’s a vicious terrible cycle, so terrible, that Patton doesn’t even notice that his door has been pushed open until his ma is settling at his side.

“Hi honey,” she whispers soothingly.

“Hi,” he croaks out, the single word taking more energy than expected.

His ma looks at him and she radiates love so strongly that Patton just wants to curl up in her arms and break down crying. But both of those actions will cause him to hurt more, so he settles for lying on his bed, head facing his mother, pushing back tears.

“I… I don’t think I can go to school today,” he says.

“That’s okay,” his ma dismisses immediately and Patton breathes a small sigh of relief. He never thinks that his parents would make him go- knows they understand, knows they wouldn’t push it. But well- he gets worried sometimes. He misses a lot of school, he takes a lot of energy to care. He knows his moms love him but he can’t help worry about his place in their lives occasionally.

“Do you need anything?”

“Heat,” Patton replies immediately, “And meds too please. And… and can I get some water? Is that okay?”

“Of course hon,” she soothes, “You are going to have to eat something with the pain meds though.”

Patton knows that. He knows that he doesn’t want to because eating takes so much effort and his stomach is already swirling in displeasure.

“Okay,” he says.

“Can you rate the pain? And tell me where it hurts?”

“9,” he says, “and everywhere. It hurts everywhere.”

“Okay. If you can’t, that’s okay, but can you try to be a bit more specific?”

My legs, hips, back, neck, shoulders,” he says, “Back especially. All along it.”

“Do we need to go to the ER?” is her next question.

Patton’s in enough pain that he considers it for a minute. It’s always a challenge debating on what he does and doesn’t need, when the pain is enough to warrant medicine, hospital admittance, and anything else.

“No. Not yet,” he settles on, but keeps it as an option. His meds don’t take away the pain entirely, but they do work decently well. Hopefully with the assistance his body will stop torturing him.

“Okay. Do you want me to stay? I can ask your Mom to get everything.”

“Can you?” he asks hopefully, not wanting to let her go.

“Of course,” she says, pulling out her phone to call his Mom and explain what’s going. She finishes quickly and turns her attention back to Patton.

“Can I hold your hand?” she asks.

“Yes. DOn’t touch my shoulder.”

She nods easily and carefully takes his hand in hers, smoothing over the back of his palm with her thumb. He gets heat, meds, water, and chokes down a little bit of food. It’s a slow, painful process. But the heat and meds help enough that Patton slowly drifts off once more.

-

He wakes to an empty room. He takes observance of his body, feeling out where it does and doesn’t hurt. It’s still flaring brightly with pain, so hot it burns. But it has subsided somewhat from a torturous pain to a heavy, burning violence.

His back aches and he reaches for his phone at his bedside table, shooting off a quick text to his moms.

A moment later his door opens, and Blythe is slipping into his room, TENS unit in hand.

“Ma is picking Liam and- tehch- Dani up from school, Mom’s at work,” she explains their absence as she approaches Patton’s bed, “Do you know- hu- the intensity, frequency, and- hu hu HU- and the duration and all that? Because I don’t but I’m sure Moms have it. I can ask them.”

“It’s in my notebook,” Patton says, “but it can also really vary.”

“Okay,” Blythe agrees, walking over to his desk to grab the blue notebook and flipping to the pages about pain treatment- specifically for the electrical nerve stimulation the TENS unit will provide.

“Let’s just start with what it says in there and then I can adjust it,” Patton tells her.

“ACK- sounds good,” she agrees, finding the page. She picks up the notebook, before immediately throwing it with a tic.

“Yeet,” Patton mutters as she picks it up, rolling her eyes at Patton’s commentary.

She comes back over to Patton’s bed.

“Okay,” she says finally, “You’re going to have to turn- tehch- over.”

“I know,” Patton says miserably, not moving.

He breathes a few times.

“Help me?” he requests.

Blythe nods and sets down the notebook and TENS unit.

“What do you want me to do?” she says.

“Help shift my hips when I turn,” he instructs.

Blythe nods and begins the painful process of flipping to his stomach. He wants to go fast to get this over with, but he also wants to move slowly and carefully. It’s a balancing act- and Patton’s balance is notoriously awful.

They get there eventually, Patton gritting through the pain.

Blythe helps with attaching the electrodes to his back and then the TENS is switched on, providing welcome relief.

“Hey, wanna watch a show with me?” Blythe asks, once Patton’s settled for a minute.

“Sure,” Patto agrees, welcoming an easy distraction.

“Okay, I’ll go- ACK hu- grab my computer,” she tells him, “Don’t move.”

Patton snorts, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She gives him a look and races out of his room.

-

The next day is better, but that isn’t saying too much. It’s a glass half full, half empty sort of situation. Patton can get out of bed, can even get to school, but his body still thrums in pain. But he gets through, and it’s not too bad even though it hurts and Patton- well he doesn’t quite count it as a win but it’s certainly not a loss.

He isn’t binding because there’s no way he’d put his binder on right now with his current back issues, but it does mean he gets misgendered more which sucks. The dysphoria creeps back in and more people deadname him and Patton wants to transition so bad, but right now he’s just stuck.

He’s ready to go home.

Luckily enough, his last class of the day rolls around.

Unluckily enough, the teacher announces they will continue working on their group project.

Shit, Patton forgot about that.

His group shuffles together, and Patton sighs in grits his teeth as he joins them. Part of it is from pain, part is from annoyance with the project in general.

“Okay,” one of the girls said, “Can everyone get their stuff out? To see where we all are?”

Patton forgets her name, but does remember she’s been consistently rude to him and unwilling to listen when he’s explained his accommodations.

The group starts pulling out computers and papers. Patton himself only pulls out one measly paper of a short outline. It’s all he has done so far. The girl’s gaze turns angrily towards him when she realizes that all he has, and Patton sinks in his seat. His other two teammates look at him in pity, but don’t jump in to help.

“That’s all you have?” she asks.

“Yes,” Patton mumbles.

“Eileen! This project is due next week.”

“M’ name is Patton.”

“Okay- Patton, whatever. This project is due in a week and you’ve barely started! We’re being graded as a group here. And I need an A in this class. I get that you don’t care about school or are trying to sabotage the group because you don’t like me or- or whatever, but it doesn’t matter. You need to do your work. Stop slacking off and get it together. By the due date.”

It’s been a long day, a long week, a long year.

Patton’s so goddamn tired and his spoons are running low and he doesn’t want to deal with this stupid project or this stupid partner of his who’s name he doesn’t even remember. Patton’s trying okay? He’s been trying so damn hard, so damn hard for everyone. Being disabled isn’t easy, and people act as if it makes it so hard for their lives, but how do they think Patton feels?

He’s the one with the memory that doesn’t work, with the body that acts constantly, with being scorned for being overweight, who’s judged for using a mobility aid, and who everyone thinks is faking. Patton’s the one dealing with this, not them. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.

Tears prick in the corner of his eyes.

He can’t cry. He can’t. There’s no way they’ll take him seriously then and they’ll probably call him a girl and-

“I told you at the beginning,” he says, voice shaky but loud, “That we got three extra weeks.”

“Yeah!” she says, “If we need it. And we’re probably going to need it now because you can’t do one stupid assignment. But taking extra time is failing.”

“I do need it,” Patton snaps, and he’s loud enough that he gains the attention of some of the groups near them. “I’ve always needed it. That’s why it’s given to me. Maybe you don’t, that’s fine. But I do.”

“I don’t get why you can’t just do it?” she argues back, “Are you just fine with failure?”

“Yeah,” Patton says, “Yeah I am fine with failure. I fail all the fucking time. Life is a series of failures when you’re disabled and it sucks. Do you think I want to be in pain? Do you think I like forgetting almost everything? Do you think I enjoy struggling to keep up in a project with some annoying ableist teammate who’s not listening to me? No. I don’t. It sucks. But this time- this time I’m not failing. I’m demanding the time I need, and that’s not failure, that’s success.”

“You shouldn’t need to push for extra time,” she says.

Patton laughs, effectively gaining the rest of the class’s attention as they all tune in on their argument.

“You know what” he says, “You know what, for once you’re right. I shouldn’t have to push for extra time. I should be able to just tell you I need three extra weeks and you should accept that. I shouldn’t have to push for accommodations, that shouldn’t be my responsibility. The world is ableist and it sucks, so it’s either push for accommodations or let myself suffer. It just depends on how much energy I have.”

“Look I get that you’re disabled or whatever,” she snaps, “But it’s pretty hard to work with you when you demand extra time without even telling us why. You should at least share with us about how you’re disabled.”

“Share with you?” Patton asks incredulously, “Share with you? It’s my disability, I can share whatever I damn well please. It’s up to me and only me what I disclose and you-”

Patton forgets the rest of the argument, coming back with a rush as he takes a bite of his chicken, and stares across the table at his family at dinner.

Once he realizes what happened, he springs up from his chair. His hips and back shriek in protesting and he almost falls over. He catches himself on the table, hand clutching the wood, before racing off to his room, tears streaming down his face. He ignores the worried calls from behind him.

He crashes onto his bed and dives under the covers, wrapping them firmly around him even as he continues to sob. Seconds later and his moms enter the room. His ma crouches by his bed and his mom sets his cane against the bed stand table before joining him.

“Darling,” his mom whispers, “What’s wrong?”

Patton shudders through the tears and wonders how to respond.

“We have a group project in school,” he starts.

“Okay,” his ma says, taking his hand to rub soothingly.

“And- and there’s this girl and she won’t listen to me about my accommodations and it sucks because I can’t meet the normal time but I also don’t have the energy to push for my accommodations and it’s- I don’t want to push for extra time I just want her to be okay with it. And she’s been really rude and I yelled at her today and the whole class was paying attention and I don’t even remember what the end result was because I forgot and I-” he sighs, tears slowing, “I just hate it,” he sighs, “Like I’m disabled. For life. Some things might get better, some might get worse. Okay. I can deal with that. I’ve been dealing with it all my life. It can suck at times and be hard, but I mean- I don’t remember when I wasn’t disabled, I was a baby. It’s part of my life. But it’s just-”

Patton breaks out in a fresh wave of tears, pausing for a minute while he sobs.

“It’s just that I have- I have to prove it everywhere I go. I have to push to get my minimum needs met and nobody understands and nobody listens and it sucks and I don’t know if that’s ever going to improve and I hate it. And it- I even worry about you guys. Cause like- I know you love me. I know that, okay? But when I see how everyone else refuses to even meet the bare minimum of my needs and the two of you being the best moms I could have ever asked for, I start to wonder if it’s too much, y’know? Like if I’m too much.”

“Patton-”

“And it’s like, I know that's stupuid. I know that’s the internalized ableism talking, that I do deserve you and I deserve my needs being met. I know that. It’s just hard to remember when there’s so much external ableism pressing down hard on me. Y’know? And that- that sucks. And it’s- it’s been a rough few weeks and I do not have the spoons to deal with this.”

“We love you,” his mom says.

“Yes, we love you very much,” his ma says.

“I know,” Patton says, “I know. I love you too.”

He sniffles and wipes at his nose.

“Can we do anything to support you?” his ma asks.

Patton shrugs, and it pulls at his back painfully. He relaxes his shoulders.

“I don't know,” he admits, “I do feel a bit better now.”

“Sometimes we just need to get it all out,” his ma agrees.

Pat nods.

“I’m tired,” he admits after awhile. “I think I’m gonna go to bed. Worry about the project tomorrow. Thank you. Love you.”

“We love you too,” his moms say together, his mom setting a kiss on his forehead and his ma with a kiss on his hand and Patton feels so intensely, purely, loved.

He turns in his part of the project four weeks later, on the extended date he was given. The girl who’s been on his case scowls at him as he turns it in, and he ignores her. The teacher accepts the project without complaint, only stopping Patton briefly to ask if the time was enough.

“Yes,” Patton says, “Yes it was.”

The girl’s still mad at him. Patton’s going to continue to face endless ableism. It sucks. It’s going to suck. But he has his family, and he has their support and he’s just going to keep stumbling forward because really, what other choice does he have?

And maybe along the way, the world will slowly change into a place Patton no longer has to demand to be accommodated.