The Hardest Decision Is The Right One

Summary: AU. Patrick has a little help to make the right decision
Warning(s): Spoilers for the movie Gone Baby Gone; spanking; references to violence and drug abuse; references to child death; AU

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Patrick stared at his partner, his lover, his best friend…stared at her and couldn’t believe that they were at odds. He wanted to point out that Angie had never wanted to take the case in the first place. That she’d been willing and prepared to walk away at least twice, so how could she stand there and tell him that she’d hate him forever if he made the decision to return Amanda to her mother? They’d been hired to do a job. And Amanda was still alive, which was more than could be said for the little boy who’d been taken.

Angie must have seen the decision on his face, because she shook her head, wrapped her arms around herself and said, “If you do this…if you take that little girl away from people who will look after her and love her…we’ll be over. I won’t be able to look at you without seeing what you did. And will you ever be able to live with yourself?”

“I don’t have a choice.” He stared at her, willing her to understand. To see that his hands were tied. “I made a promise.”

“To a woman who cares more about where her next hit is coming from than that her daughter was taken.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t see her. She loves Amanda. She was…she was broken up. She let me see it. Asked me to save her. To bring her home. She made me promise.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to keep that promise,” she whispered. “Not knowing that Helene won’t change. She can’t. You saw it with Lionel, didn’t you? Twenty-three years sober and he threw it all away. Most addicts won’t change. And maybe she loves Amanda, but if all you saw was the room that little girl was shut away in…would you really believe that?”

He stared at her. He tried to find the words. To convince her he was doing the right thing. And there were none.

Footsteps behind him had him turning round, narrowing his eyes as he saw Doyle approaching. There was no gun in the man’s hand, but he couldn’t help but tense up anyway as Doyle stepped up to him. “I don’t think there’s anything more that needs to be said,” he stated.

“But I do.” Doyle looked past him, focusing on Angie. “Can you give us some privacy, please?”

She looked between them before she finally nodded. “Of course.” She made eye contact with Patrick. “Don’t forget what I said.” Then, she turned and walked away.

Patrick watched her leave, watched her disappear from view, and then turned to look at Doyle.

The other man met his gaze unflinchingly. “She cares about Amanda.”

“And you think I don’t?” Patrick responded, stung.

Doyle took a few moments to respond, studying Patrick’s face like he could see into his very soul. Finally, he said, “I think you’re too eaten up with guilt about what you’ve done to see what the best course of action is.”

Patrick took a step back and shook his head. “You have no idea what I’ve done.” It should have come out in a strong, certain tone. Instead, his voice shook. Like he was a scared, uncertain child.

Doyle took a step closer and then another…and a third, until he’d closed the gap between them. All the while, he never pulled his eyes away from Patrick’s face. “You took a life. And it doesn’t matter that the man you killed was the worst kind of human being. That he killed a little boy. Once you take that step, you can’t go back. You can never undo what you’ve done.”

“If you’re trying to bring me round to your way of thinking, you’re going about it the wrong way.”

“You’re eaten up with the guilt and shame,” Doyle stated. “I can see it, son. In your eyes. The way you hold yourself. You tell yourself that it was the right thing to do. That if you’d turned him in, he’d get out eventually. On good behaviour, perhaps.”

“Child predators are the lowest of the low,” Patrick whispered. “Maybe one of the other criminals would have killed him.”

“Or maybe he would have found someone to protect him. He would have got out.” Doyle paused. “How much is the life of a child worth, Patrick? If he had a lawyer who could have got him off, how many years would he have ultimately served? No, son.” He reached out and placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. Squeezed it gently. “You did the right thing. You took the life of a man who’d hurt many children and would go on to hurt many more if given half the chance.”

“If I did the right thing, why do I feel so bad inside?” Patrick’s voice was low. Haunted. Filled with the guilt he couldn’t even try to hide.

“Because you’re a good man.” Doyle squeezed a little tighter. “The day it stops eating you up inside is the day you cross the line that means someone else needs to stop you.”

“How do you live with it?” Patrick met Doyle’s gaze and wondered…if the older man could see the hope in his own. His gut twisted with the guilt and the shame. The feeling that he’d done something he could never take back.

Even though everyone close to him had voiced their pride in him for doing it, he couldn’t see how they could be proud of him. The police had turned a blind eye to what he’d done. He had walked away feeling like a villain, when everyone else was treating him like a hero.

“I can help you with the guilt,” Doyle replied. “I can give you a release for the darkness. And perhaps having a clearer mind will allow you to make the right decision here and now.”

Patrick lowered his eyes and thought about it. He was fairly sure that Doyle’s idea to help him wouldn’t be easy. Maybe even painful. But…would it hurt anymore than what he was feeling right now? He doubted that. But he had to say something. “You know I plan to call the police in. Why would you help me?”

“Because you’re a good man,” Doyle answered. “And I have faith that you’ll make the right decision.” He paused, but when Patrick didn’t say anything, he steered him towards the car, opened the backseat and sat down. Releasing Patrick, he then simply patted his knee.

Patrick balked. “I’m not a child.”

“No.” Doyle looked into his eyes. “You’re a man suffering a lot of guilt for what you did. And with no safe way of letting go of the darkness inside, it will turn inwards and turn you into the kind of person who needs to be taken out.”

Patrick hesitated.

He could walk away. He could say no. He could call the police. Do what he still believed was the right thing, even despite everything. And then he would have to leave and deal with the sickening sense of guilt. And he would have to do it alone, because that was how this path ended for him. If nothing else, he knew that much.

And maybe Doyle knew what he was doing.

Breathing in deeply, Patrick moved towards the car. He shuffled until he reached Doyle’s side and then he bent at the waist, lowering his upper body so that he didn’t bump his head as he settled in place across Doyle’s lap.

Once he was in place, the older man made a few adjustments to his position, making sure Patrick’s backside rested between his legs. Then, Patrick felt Doyle’s fingers in the waistband of his pants. Felt them pulled down, exposing his boxers. His bare thighs. He couldn’t help the shiver that went through him as his boxers were pulled down to join his pants and cool air ghosted over his bare skin, causing goosepimples to rise.

The cold quickly became a minor discomfort when Doyle’s hand slapped down on his ass, immediately making it sting. He wasn’t even given a chance to fully absorb the sting before the smack was repeated, making the opposite side of his backside sting as well. And then he began to swat every inch of Patrick’s backside, from the crest down to mid-thigh.

Patrick did his best to stay still and accept the spanking, but when Doyle began to smack skin he’d already covered, he couldn’t hold still and began to squirm. His backside was heating up, like he’d stayed in the sun for too long and caught a sunburn.

Even with the physical discomfort, Patrick thought he could take it. Probably.

And then Doyle began speaking. “This guilt will eat you up inside if you don’t find a way to release it. You’re a good man who made a hard decision, Patrick. The guilt will never leave you completely, but you can make sure it stops affecting you so much.”

The words, combined with the sting of the spanking and the emotions rising up inside him caused tears to spring to Patrick’s eyes. His breath caught as Doyle began to focus more smacks to his sit spots, to his thighs, making sure the more sensitive areas received stinging correction.

He didn’t know when he broke. One moment, Patrick was shifting and crying over Doyle’s lap. The next, he’d slumped over the older man’s knees, sobbing out all of the guilt, pain…all of the negative feelings that had been plaguing him since he’d fired the gun.

“That’s it, son.” Doyle’s calm voice was an accompaniment to the way his hand rubbed Patrick’s back, the touch a soothing comfort. “Let it all out.”

And Patrick did, responding to the gentle encouragement. He didn’t know how long he cried for, but by the time his tears stopped, he felt lighter…freer…than he had in a long time.

When the tears stopped, Doyle pulled his clothing back into place and then helped Patrick to stand, steadying him until he found his balance. Then, looking into Patrick’s eyes, Doyle said, “Now you go and do what you have to do.”

Patrick took a deep breath and met the other man’s eyes. He spoke with certainty. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just touched base with you over an old case. That’s all.”

And the right choice was now so easy to make.

The End