darker_london | Time for Reaching (Flynn, Deirdre)

"I'm sorry," Flynn said before Deirdre even had the chance to say hello. "Deirdre, I'm so sorry."

There was silence for a moment, and Flynn's stomach twisted with guilt while he believed she might not accept his heartfelt apology for refusing to talk to her when he thought Quinn would die. The idea of having friends was still new and unusual to Flynn and sometimes he didn't understand how friendships worked. Sometimes he was terrified he had made an egregious mistake and he would lose the friends he had only had a few years. But then Deirdre spoke, silencing his fears. "Flynn? What are you apologising for?"

"Deirdre. God...God it's good to hear your voice." Flynn closed his eyes and he leaned up against the wall of the hospital, the rough cut of the stone cut at his shoulder blades. "I'm so sorry I couldn't talk to you the other day." He hadn't been ready, but he could talk now. He needed to talk now, and he was going to reach out to Deirdre. He trusted now that she would reach back.

"No...no, it's okay, Flynn. I just thought it might help to talk to someone who could understand. But I...I get that you didn't want to talk right then. How are you, Honey?"

Flynn sighed and he looked up at the cloudy sky. "Numb," he admitted softly. "I'm so afraid that Quinn will wake up and it will be like it was after Amaris hurt him..."

"No," Deirdre whispered down the phone. "No, Flynn, that won't happen again. Quinn will pull through."

"I want to believe that so badly, Deirdre..."

"I can believe it for you," Deirdre said warmly. "And we'll be back there with you in two days. I can believe it for you in person. Flynn...I'm so sorry. I hate that this happened..."

"My own fuckin' brother tried to kill my husband," Flynn growled, his voice gruff and low. "And I hate him. And I hate myself for ever believin' his bullshit."

"You didn't know," Deirdre soothed. "Sweet Flynn, you didn't know."

Flynn groaned and he covered his eyes, his tears finally spilling. "It doesn't matter," he whispered. "All that matters is Quinn. God, I love him so much, Deirdre..."

"I know, honey," Deirdre whispered. "And he knows too."

Flynn cried then, leaning against the wall of the hospital as his best friend listened from thousands of kilometers away. Once again he was facing the possible loss of his love, but he wasn't alone and that was priceless. That, he needed.