Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Patrick Spring woke up from hospital to find that his younger self had returned to his own timeline, and that his daughter was back in her own body, safe and sound. When he saw his daughter, a weight lifted from him and it felt like he could breathe again. There was no more anger, no more quest for vengeance, just relief and gratitude.

Farah and Lydia were sitting by his bedside, in the luxury hospital suite reserved for billionaires. Farah told him everything that had happened, including the fact that the person who had saved them, was currently himself lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, on a ward a few floors down.

"He doesn't have any medical insurance." Farah noted with concern.

"Tell them I'll cover it" Patrick said, unhesitating.

She nodded with relief. He chuckled a little.

"You weren't very keen on him when you first met." he noted.

"He has a way of growing on you." she observed drily. "Anyway, get some rest. I'll go and see how he's doing."

She smiled at him and left the Spring family to catch up.

While she was gone, Lydia told her dad of her plans to go on a gap year around Europe.

"What will I do rattling around that big old house on my own?" He said with a smile, trying to hide his dismay to play the supportive parent.

"You'll manage. You always have some project on the go." Lydia said. "Perhaps you could invest in Dirk's agency." she suggested. "He wants to set one up in Seattle."

"Hmm." Patrick answered, thoughtfully. It did sound like fun to finance a private detective agency that specialised in the more supernatural of cases. And if he were honest, he wanted to get to know Dirk Gently a little better. He was interesting, very smart, and it intrigued him that Farah liked him after a week, when she didn't usually take to people so quickly.

"He asked Farah to join him, but she said no - she couldn't leave you alone like that. But you know, now I'm going to Europe, she's kind of out of a job, so..." Lydia continued.

"What are you suggesting?" Patrick asked with a fond smile at his daughter's not-so-subtle art of persuasion.

"I'm saying maybe you should invest more than just your money in the agency. It could be your new project."

She was trying to ensure he wouldn't be too lonely without her, he knew that. And perhaps she was thinking of Farah too. Lydia had always liked things to be straightforward, to be tied up in a nice, neat bow.

"Just think about it." She said brightly, before giving him a kiss on the cheek and leaving him to his thoughts. He thought about it a lot.

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When Dirk regained consciousness, Patrick and Farah went to see him in his newly upgraded hospital room, during visitor hours.

Patrick enjoyed seeing how animated Dirk was when he talked about his plans for the agency.

Farah was right...he was actually a little startled by how quickly Dirk grew on him. He wasn't like anyone else he'd ever met. Patrick could be prone to brooding, dwelling on things that got him down, but Dirk’s active mind and sunny disposition made that impossible. Everything just seemed...better, when Dirk was around.

Today, however, when he entered Dirk's room he was less sunny than usual; a doctor was examining his shoulder and the expression on her face was not encouraging. The expression of pain on Dirk's was even less encouraging, as she asked him to move his arm in various directions with varying levels of success.

"The range of movement is still more limited than I would like." The doctor said with a frown. "But we need to give it time."

"Is there anything you can do?" Patrick asked her, as Dirk rubbed his shoulder, obviously in pain, and the doctor took pity on him and added some stronger painkillers to his IV.

"The best I can recommend is for Dirk to start regular physiotherapy. Would you like me to refer you to a physiotherapist?"

"I'd like the best you have to attend to Mr. Gently privately, at my expense." Patrick said decisively. Patrick thought it would have gone without saying, but Dirk looked at him suddenly when he said this.

It was a rare moment where he'd seen Dirk speechless, looking more surprised and touched than Patrick thought reasonable given that Dirk had saved him - and more importantly, Lydia - from certain death.

It wasn't just that though. He understood from their conversations that Dirk had never in his life had anyone take care of him, at least not without wanting something in return. The more they talked, the more Patrick saw the injustice of that, and the more he wanted to fix it.

Dirk deserved to have someone who cared. He'd struggled alone for so long.

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When they finally checked out of the hospital, Patrick took Dirk to the Spring Mansion and showed him the office space, rent-free, that he'd set up in one wing. Farah had a large desk area of her own, and he put her in charge of managing the budget and finances. She looked honoured and a little moved by his trust, but he had complete faith in her and didn’t doubt that she was up to the task.

When Todd sought them out to reconcile with Dirk, they made room for him, and put Detectives Estevez and Zimmerfield on speed-dial so they could liaise with the police department when needed. 

Amanda and the Rowdy 3 were mobile satellites of the agency, and dropped by periodically.

They had a couple of run-of-the-mill cases, settling into this new life, finding balance and belonging and family. It felt…right.

Patrick loved the noise, the chaos, the activity, making inventions to help them solve cases.

He wasn't sure why Dirk so often played down his intelligence, but whenever he showed him one of his inventions, it was clear that Dirk understood it completely, intuitively, and always asked exactly the right questions.

He loved brainstorming ideas with Dirk, cooking him dinners to make him slow down and eat something, sharing anecdotes of their wild adventures and travels.

The idea of the mansion being an empty shell without all this life inside just seemed absurd to him, now.

As for Dirk…it was new, having people around. It felt so secure, safe in a way he never had been before, and he kept wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. It was honestly something he'd spent his life fantasising about, and it didn't escape Farah's notice that a certain weight had been lifted from him.

Maybe it took one to know one, she thought, as she relaxed into her chair at her desk with a cup of tea and a completed pile of paperwork neatly piled up.

Chapter Text

Patrick often lost track of time and slept odd hours, getting caught up in some research or tinkering with some device. 

On this particular night it was 2am when he finally decided to get some sleep, but when he saw the agency lights on, curiosity took him there instead.

He found Dirk asleep at his desk, head on his arms. Dirk had a room next to Farah's, it was just upstairs, so Patrick called to him softly to wake him up.

"Dirk." he said. To his surprise, Dirk sat up very suddenly, eyes wide with fear. He looked at Patrick with a look of panic, before turning to the window. He was breathing hard.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Patrick asked with a frown of concern, moving close to him. Dirk shook his head.

"Just a bad feeling..." he said vaguely. "I'm sure it's nothing." he added, unconvincingly.

 Patrick put a hand on his arm. "Wanna talk about it?"

Dirk took a shaky breath, seemed to consider it but then shook his head.

"It's nothing." he said decisively. It sounded more like he was convincing himself of that than Patrick, so he didn’t push. More than anything he looked like he needed some sleep.

As they ascended the stairs Patrick reflected that the case they were working on didn't seem to warrant this kind of anxiety, but when they got to Dirk's room he seemed more relaxed.

"Good night." Dirk said with a tired smile.

"Dirk, if you need me, you know where to find me. Any time day or night."

Dirk's expression softened, as it always did when Patrick said something that made it clear that he cared. Dirk just nodded in response.

"How's your shoulder?"

"It was better before I used it as a makeshift pillow just now." Dirk admitted sheepishly, giving it a rub. "Nearly back to normal."

"Good. You'd...tell me, if something was bothering you?" Patrick said, deciding to push just a little.  

"It was just a bad dream. One I've had many times before, from when I was a child, it's just that... I hadn't thought about it for a long time so it took me by surprise. Dreams are like that though aren't they? They never do what you want, at least not in my experience. Perhaps that could be your next invention! A sort of...remote control for dreams - actually no that sounds horribly open to abuse..."

Patrick put a hand on his shoulder, as Dirk's mind wandered and his voice got sleepier.

"Good night." He said fondly, heading to his own room.

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As he walked away, Dirk watched him for a moment, touching his shoulder where Patrick’s hand had been. Dirk hadn’t been touched very much in his life, at least, not with the natural ease and affection that Patrick always used. Never with that. He felt a yearning within for Patrick to hold him, just…hold him for a while. Surround him with warmth and protection.

He shook his head, not sure what was worse: the selfishness of having everything he’d ever wanted, and to still want something more, or the laughable idea that genius-billionaire-philanthropist Patrick Spring would ever want… him. It was pathetic really, just because Patrick was kind didn’t mean he was in love with him, he reasoned, as he closed the door to his room.

Patrick could have anyone, whereas Dirk was destined to be alone. He felt a chill that made him shiver, and glanced at the window again, closing the curtains extra tight.  

Still. He could always dream.

Chapter Text

The next day, Dirk seemed fine again, it was not until their lunch at the café that he seemed to zone out, excusing himself for a moment.

He didn’t come back.

Farah established quite quickly that Blackwing had taken him.

Dirk had said very little about the organisation, just that they were CIA, investigated psychics, and had held him captive for years as a child. And now they had taken him off the street in broad daylight.

Patrick felt a familiar sense of fury return to him, a rage that felt comfortable and at home in the marrow of his bones.

The fire within him was lit, and he adapted his armoured suit into something that shot ballistic missiles at short range; he worked on it night and day until it was ready, while Farah, Todd, and Amanda gathered information and worked on a plan.

Whenever he felt tired and slowed down in his work, he thought of what they might be doing to Dirk right now, thought of him feeling scared and alone, just like he had as a child…and the anger drove him on.

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Patrick Spring went after Blackwing the way he’d gone after the Men of the Machine, and it was as much as the others could do to keep up.

He destroyed one corner of the building, providing access to rescue the Rowdy 3, and Amanda and Vogel peeled off to get them out.

A kind of red mist had descended on him as he tore through the walls, missiles firing from the cannons in the arms of his suit and turning whole rooms to rubble.

“Patrick, be careful!” Farah shouted a warning, consulting her floorplan, but he scarcely even heard anything above the sound of his own fury. “Dirk is around here somewhere!”

He registered the warning too late, firing on a wall before he recognised it as a cell door, and watching with horror as the smoke cleared to reveal a pile of rubble on top of a person who looked very much like Dirk.

“Dirk!!” Todd cried out, as he raced to the rubble.

Farah and Todd frantically tried to dig him out.

“Stand back” Patrick said, and they made way for his more powerful suit to clear the rubble, uncovering the unconscious and bloody form of their friend, with several broken bones, some at nauseating angles or visible through skin.

Patrick tore off the cannons that had caused this, and checked desperately for signs of life.

“No no please…please live, you have to live…” he whispered.

“He’s still breathing, we have to get him out of here now” Farah said, authoritatively.  

Patrick did not need to be told twice, and he lifted Dirk as gently as he could.

Why did he have to be so impulsive? So rash? Why was his anger so violent? He should have listened to Farah, then this would never have happened…

Dirk looked…

He was already moving as fast as he possibly could but when he looked at the far-too-still form of the detective in his arms he knew it wasn’t fast enough. He’d done the exact opposite of saving him, he was going to lose him, and the thought blinded him with tears but he kept moving.

Were the people he loved the most destined always to die in his arms?

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The doctors spent a very long time working on Dirk, he was in and out of surgery, kept unconscious for his own good for over a week.

When they finally stabilised him to the point where he could come out of ICU, he moved into the luxury hospital suite previously occupied by Patrick himself.

Dirk was still unconscious, and there was plenty of room to pace up and down in the room while they waited. Todd and Farah were here most of the time. Patrick was here all of the time.

Dirk was too pale; as though there was no way he could wake up, no way he could do anything except fade away into the bleached bedsheets.

When he'd found Dirk in the rubble, and for that dreadful moment thought he was dead, it became very clear just how much the detective had come to mean to him. It was ridiculous that he hadn't noticed before. Every day he woke up and felt joy well up at the thought of working with the holistic detective agency, of seeing the team. Seeing Dirk. The house may as well have been empty when Dirk wasn't there, it seemed far too large, like an enormous echoing set of dusty, abandoned rooms. When he was there, if anything, it seemed too small to contain him.

He rested a hand on Dirk's cheek, it was cold. Stroking a thumb over his cheek in the hope that it would warm him up, encourage some colour, some life back into him.

"I can't lose you." He found himself saying out loud. He'd already lost so much, and there was nobody else like Dirk on earth. Perhaps that's what all people think when they're in love with someone, but in this case...he knew for sure that Dirk really was special.

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He was woken up from another nightmare by the worried expression of Farah Black.

"Patrick...you need to get some sleep, proper sleep in a proper bed." she said kindly.

"I'm not leaving." he said without hesitation.

She observed him for a moment, astutely, and then sat next to him.

"Dirk means the world to me." She said. "He and Todd are my best friends, I love them and want to protect them and I hate seeing them hurt."

He looked at her, surprised by her openness. He had a feeling it was the influence of Dirk that had made her more open in expressing herself.

"But I think he means even more to you. Doesn't he?" she said, head tilted slightly.

Patrick looked back at the too-still figure lying in the bed.

"I could have killed him." he said stubbornly, still finding it hard to say out loud. Deliberately ignoring her question.

"Patrick...he'll be ok. We got him out, he just needs time to recover. But we can't help him if we're burnt out ourselves."

She was right of course. But he felt like he couldn't breathe until he saw Dirk wake up with his own eyes.

"Go rest on the sofa, I'll watch over him for a while." Farah said, and if it had been anyone else, he would have refused. But he trusted her more than anyone else, so he relented.

Even if it did mean more nightmares of seeing Dirk's lifeless form among the rubble.

Chapter Text

There was a period of time where Dirk wasn't fully lucid, floating by on a sea of drugs and pain meds and swimming in and out of consciousness. Every time he woke up, usually briefly, he was confused about where he was, sometimes about when he was, and ran through a gamut of emotions.

Patrick thought the times he woke up panicked were the worst, until he saw him wake up not panicked, just scared, and sad.

“I’ll be good I promise…I’ll do better…please don’t go…I don’t want to be alone…”

And Patrick tried to reassure him that he wasn’t alone, that he was safe…but Dirk was somewhere else, and the frightening figments of his imagination were very real to him.

Perhaps worse still was when he woke up, and his usually bright blue eyes were shadowed and dull.

"I'm going to die here." he whispered once, staring at the ceiling with an expression of hopeless dread. Patrick knew he wasn’t talking about the hospital, but all the fear came rushing back to him and his throat closed up at the words.

Patrick took his hand, holding onto it tightly, one of the few areas of Dirk's body that had escaped too much damage.

"I know you're a fighter, Dirk, you've been fighting your whole life. So I know you'll get through this too. Just know that I'm right here beside you every step of the way. I’m here."

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After 6 long weeks they were able to move Dirk from the hospital to his room at the mansion, with visiting nurses.

He was starting to wake up for longer periods now, able to sit up and talk almost like his old self.

Dirk was chatting away happily about various thoughts and ideas he’d had while incarcerated, until Patrick couldn’t take it any more and interrupted.

“Dirk, you don’t have to pretend to be happy.” Patrick said quietly. “You have every right to be angry with me.”

“Pretend?” Dirk said, baffled. “Blackwing's gone, I'm home, I'm surrounded by my favourite people...I’m literally happier than I have ever been in my life. And why would I be mad at the person who rescued me and saved my life?” 

"I nearly got you killed." Patrick said hoarsely.

"But you didn't. I'm...free. Actually free." Beyond Dirk’s genuine puzzlement, he still said the word ‘free’ with a kind of hushed awe, as though it were novel and unexpected.

"You should never have been locked up in the first place." Patrick growled.

When he looked back at Dirk he found his anger dissipating in the face of Dirk's soft admiration.

"Thank you for coming to rescue me." he said sincerely. Patrick smiled at him in return.

"Did you think I would leave you there?"

Dirk frowned slightly and looked away. The sheer sadness in his eyes hurt to look at.

"Yes." he said, honestly. "I thought I was never going to get out. That no one would...even remember me."

Patrick swallowed down tears.

"How could you think I would ever forget you?" he asked, hoarsely.

The naivety of Dirk's expression broke his heart.

"I would never abandon you. Never." Patrick reiterated, feeling even more fiercely protective.

"But... why? Why would you go to so much trouble for me when I'm - I'm nobody, and you're a - a somebody? You've already given me so much - an agency, a place to live, a home, a family - what...what is it that you want in return?" Dirk asked

Patrick wondered if it was a question that he would even have thought of prior to the last trip to Blackwing. It had their toxic influence written all over it. He had sensed a certain darkness, a shadow that hovered over the Brit since he'd come out of Blackwing...and feared that it could drag the detective into a kind of depression if they weren't careful.

"What about what you've given me?" Patrick countered. "You saved my daughter's life, you saved my life, you've given Farah a family and confidence in herself I never could...and as for me... a future. You've given me a future, one with hopes and dreams I never thought possible when I spent so much of my life in blind revenge missing the best things life had to offer. Don't ever call yourself a nobody. You're the heart and soul of this place, of this family. Of me."

Dirk was staring at him with tear-filled eyes that finally spilled over.

Patrick held him close, wondering how he’d been lucky enough to find him.

Chapter Text

Dirk felt like he'd climbed a mountain, which was embarrassing, because all he'd done was make it downstairs to the lounge.

The Spring mansion was big, but still, it wasn't Everest.

It was even more embarrassing in that he was so completely exhausted there was no way he could get back upstairs again.

"Dirk!!" Farah said with alarm as she came in from the garden and found him leaning against the wall and breathing hard from exertion.

"Hey what are you doing out of bed?" Todd followed in after her and rushed to his side. They both helped him to sit down.

"I thought it was time I ventured out" Dirk said.

"You could open your stitches Dirk you have to be careful - you could have fallen down the stairs - anything could have happened!" Farah admonished.

"Next time call one of us, don't try this on your own" Todd said.

"I was just going down the bloody stairs!" Dirk grumbled. "It's not like I was trying to battle a sea-monster with dried pasta and a tin of sweetcorn. Back then I could have used some help, it was a very close call..."

"I know this is hard, not being able to do things you can normally do...but it will get better I promise." Todd encouraged. "Honestly it just takes time."

Patrick came in at that point on his way to make lunch, and was surprised to find them all there.

"What's going on?"

"I wanted to see a different kind of ceiling tile before I completely lost my mind." Dirk said. "But I may have over-estimated my capabilities. Something I have been accused of in the past... quite often in fact."

"Hey you made it didn't you?" Todd pointed out, trying to be encouraging.

"There's nothing wrong with needing help from friends every now and then." Patrick pointed out.

"Yes, about that..." Dirk said, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t think you’ll ever really understand what it means to me to have people in my life who care so much…that they would take on a whole government agency and fortified secret prison – a literal army for my sake."

Farah took his hand and gave him a fond smile.

"I just hope you know I would do the same for you.” Dirk added.

“Of course we know that Dirk, you’re the one who inspired us all to be braver and better people in the first place.” Todd said.

"I'm not braver or better than anyone." Dirk objected.

"That's not the point, Dirk." Farah noted. "The point is that you try. You always try your best, you try so hard, you put everything you have into what you do, just to help people who no one else would help. Whether you like it or not, that's inspiring."

Farah had never seen Dirk blush so much, hadn't known it was possible to embarrass him until now.

"Thank you" he said quietly. They shared a moment of comfortable silence, trying to keep their emotions in check. Patrick smiled gratefully at Farah, feeling the last of the stress lift from him as he saw how much Todd and Farah both loved Dirk and would do anything to protect him.

"Now that you've made it all the way down here, why don't we watch some films?" Patrick suggested. He knew Dirk wouldn't be ready to return to his room just yet, but wasn't up to anything active. He'd have to live vicariously through TV for a while.   

It turned out there were a lot of classics Dirk hadn't even heard of, and Patrick took great delight in expanding his film education.

Dirk decided that he could blame the tiredness and the medication if it came to it, as he leaned into Patrick’s personal space on the sofa. Patrick pulled him close to him, and Dirk sighed with contentment, deciding that this was his happy place.

Farah sat down on a nearby armchair and smiled as she watched them.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, Dirk could go for walks in the grounds to build up his strength, and every day felt closer to being fit and able again.

Farah and Todd thought things were going well, Dirk was a little frustrated and impatient at how slow the process was, but all things considered he was making good progress and he was still clearly cherishing every moment with Patrick and with his friends.

That's why, when Patrick and Dirk came back from the check-up with the doctor, they were surprised to see how stormy Patrick's expression was.

"What happened?" Todd asked as he came into the kitchen with a surly expression and Dirk followed him, looking worried and apologetic.

Patrick shook his head, and sighed. "The doctor said that chances are, Dirk's never going to fully recover dexterity in his left hand."

Todd and Farah looked sympathetically at Dirk.

"That...sucks, I'm sorry man." Todd said.

"It's really fine - like I already told Patrick - I'm not a concert pianist. Anyway I'm right-handed. To be a holistic detective all you need is a connection with the stream of creation and an ability to just sort of...go with the flow." Dirk shrugged. "Which I have!" he ended brightly.

"Patrick can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Farah requested.

Dirk shared with Todd all that had occurred at the appointment as Farah led Patrick out of hearing range to talk to him privately.

"First of all, it's not your fault. It's Blackwing's fault - place the blame where it belongs. And secondly of all, this isn't helping." Farah said plainly.

"Not helping? What's not helping is the fact I got Dirk out of Blackwing and destroyed his life and his future in the process." Patrick said, running a hand through his hair.

"You're being selfish." she said, and Patrick looked at her, stunned into silence. She continued. "Don't you see? Dirk's the one who just got the bad news, and he's having to… minimise it to make you feel better. Because he's not stupid, Patrick. He knows you blame yourself. And he doesn't want you to."

Patrick thought about her words. It was true that ever since the doctor's pronouncement, Dirk had been down-playing the impact, spinning it positively. He hadn't paid much attention because he'd been too busy dwelling on his own dark thoughts, and also because Dirk always tended to see the positive side of things, but Farah had noticed immediately.

"If you're right... what should I do?" he asked tentatively.

"Right now he just wants you to be here with him. To listen, and make him feel safe and loved. Which you do a great job of by the way, when you're not wallowing in your own guilt." she said, not unkindly. "Oh and- he's right, this isn't going to end his career. It's not...ideal, but he'll be fine. He's got us. We work as a team, and no matter what happens, we've got each other's backs."

Patrick looked at her, reflecting on what she'd said for a moment, before nodding.

"You have a point."

She took his hand. "And while we're here, stop being so hard on yourself. Nobody could have done more to save Dirk from Blackwing, you got him out. He's here with us, because of you. And he's happy here."

"You're a wonderful friend, Farah Black." he said fondly.

"Like I say, I've got your back." She smiled. "And Patrick... I'm glad you found him. You're...good for each other."

Farah wouldn't say it out loud but in her view, Dirk had brought joy and life to Patrick, and Patrick had brought Dirk stability, and a home. She loved them both, and got a lot of comfort and satisfaction from their mutual happiness. She knew Todd felt the same way.

When Patrick re-entered the kitchen, it was with a deliberately better mood.

"Dirk, if you ever find something more difficult than it was before, just let one of us know, we'll help you." he said, calmly.

Dirk smiled at him, like the sun coming out. "I know. I have absolutely first class assistants. I'm very lucky that way."

Chapter Text

“Good Night Dirk.” Patrick said after a day when he finally felt Dirk was truly back to his original level of health. It felt good to feel that things were back to normal.

He heard a hesitant cough and turned back to the detective, enquiringly.

“Do you want to…” Dirk swallowed. “Stay?” he tried to sound casual as he said it but blushed furiously when Patrick looked at him.

“Never mind, sorry” he said shaking his head. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Dirk, you don’t owe me anything. You do understand that don’t you?” Patrick checked after a moment.

“I owe you everything.” Dirk objected. “But that’s not what this is. I just…” he sighed in frustration. “Look, I’m not very good at…interpreting things sometimes, the way other people feel and so on, it’s just that… I…have feelings for you, and there have been times when I’ve looked at you and wondered if they might not be…in some small way perhaps…reciprocated.”

Patrick was momentarily stunned by Dirk’s courage. In the silence, Dirk quickly added:

“But if I’m wrong, and I probably am, usually am… then I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you by suggesting that…”

“That I could be madly in love with you, and have been for some time?” Patrick said with a playful smile. “How could I feel any other way?” he said softly, looking straight into Dirk’s expressive blue eyes. “You’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever met.”

It was Dirk’s turn to be stunned into silence, before he finally clarified, “I’m sorry did you say madly in love with me?”

“I’ll say it as many times as you want Dirk. I know you haven’t had nearly enough love in your life, certainly not as much as you deserve. But I want you to know that I love you with all my heart.”

Dirk tried to swallow down his emotions a little unsuccessfully as tears made their way down his cheeks.

Patrick wiped them away with his thumb, before moving into Dirk’s room and closing the door.

They settled down in bed, Patrick’s arm around Dirk like they were made to fit together like this, comfortable and warm.

Happiness didn’t typically last long in Dirk’s life. He had no idea how long he could expect this perfect happiness to last – but he was determined to cherish every moment of it as much as he possibly could.