just get home as soon as possible, okay!? - meme
Note: this is still part of ww au, when i mention in the previous bit that brad checks in every 6h, this is why. Potentiality triggering for anyone dealing with loss (no death in fic tho, just anxiety).
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Three days of riding his bike west way too fast, sleeping in the open and living only on burgers finally got him to the point where he felt able to turn on his phone. He knew there would be a number of angry-understanding messages from Nate, but he counted on the "understanding" part. Nate had been there, he knew how much it fucked Brad up sometimes. Increasingly. When Brad got home, waited for a few days and then just repacked and left, Nate didn't like it, but he understood. Brad would always be back, he just needed to check out for a bit.
So when the messages started pouring in, and very few of them from Nate, his blood ran cold. He knew something was wrong straight away. Both the messages Nate sent him were from the first day. A "be safe" and "watered your cactus". After that, if was different pack memebers but mostly Ray, who didn't know that Brad did this regularly. They started worried, went all the way up to furious "where the fuck are you!?" and then, with desperation that had Brad shaking, "just get home as soon as possible, okay!?"
Three days. If he broke every law possible it would still take him two days back. He stared at the phone thinking if he should just call Nate's phone but he couldn't imagine what he would do if... so he just turned the bike around and stepped on it.
He stopped every few hours to turn on the phone and check his messages but for the first 24 hours he didn't hear from anyone. Then, around hour 33, when he turned it on again, a message came from Ray's number. "Ray says he's been blowing up your phone. I'm alright, had a little accident and my phone is no more, but I'm fine. Don't worry. Nate"
Brad felt his heart beating for the first time since he got back from the last tour. His hands were shaking and his wolf, after driving him crazy for days, finally seemed to quiet. He dialed Ray's phone.
"You absolute shithole." Ray greeted him.
"I know. How is he?"
There was a silence on the other side that Brad thought was meant to punish him but then Nate's voice came through. "I'm fine, don't worry."
"You're not fine," he heard Ray in the distance.
"What happened?"
"A car accident, some guy ran the red light. I got a few bruises."
"The car was totaled and he slammed his head into the window," Ray supplied.
Nate sighed.
"I'm sorry," Brad didn't know what else to say.
"It's alright," Nate's voice was understanding.
"It's not," Brad's conscience in form of Ray Pearson declared. "You don't fucking leave your pack like that..."
"Okay Ray you've made your point, please let me talk to him now," Nate said.
Brad heard Ray huff and a door close.
"It's alright." Nate repeated. "You couldn't have stopped it by being here."
"Where are you now?"
"The hospital, they were keeping an eye on me. But I'm going home tomorrow."
"I'll meet you there."
"Brad, you don't have to, honestly, I'm fine, don't let Ray guilt trip you..."
Brad laughed but it sounded like a sob and got Nate to stop talking before Brad could ask him to. "I don't need Ray to tell me when I fucked up, Nate. I'll meet you home."
"Alright," Nate said with a sigh. "Drive carefully though, one accident per pack weekly is enough, I think."
"I will," Brad lied. "See you soon." 'I love you,' he wanted to say.
"See you."
"I'm gonna kick your ass when I see you," Ray said from far away enough that Nate wouldn't hear him.
'Fair enough,' Brad thought.


















