Breathe Me Back To Life •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Twelve: I'll Sing Along Cause I'm Barely Hanging On

Before I start, is it just me or is the pictures and gifs I upload not showing anymore? If not, I'll try and fix them.

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

Remember how I said I ran away? I may have over exaggerated. Ten points for trying to, though. I barely make it ten feet away from the bus before the guys throw a certain Mr. Stump my way to apprehend me for breaking Rule Number One; no leaving without telling one of us where you're going. God, I bet Pete sent him.

"Cole!" Patrick shouts from behind me, his voice choked and strained. My wrist was still bleeding badly, longer than it ever has bled, and I know that I need Patrick to fix it for me or else it'd get worse. But for some reason, I wanted to keep walking. I wanted to just keep going and just leave all the bullshit drama behind. But of course, I can't.

"Cole," Patrick's right behind me now. I know because he pulls me back gently and brings me into his arms. I let myself press my face into the soft fabric of his blue t-shirt. I don't cry though. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I did anything more unbelievably stupid. Like forget to put away my guitar pick box.

"Hey, hey, listen to me, okay?" Patrick begins, not unwrapping his arms that are engulfing me into a major bear hug. "We're going to get back in that bus, I'll get the first aid kit and clean up the cut, and you're going to promise me to never do something that stupid again, okay?"

"It was an accident. I wasn't trying to kill myself or anything." I mumble into his shoulder, the collar of his shirt pressing into my cheek. "I swear."

"It was an accident?" Patrick asks me, as if he can't believe what I'm saying.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." I tell him, my throat tightening with each syllable rolling off my tongue. "I heard you guys banging on the door and I jumped and it just went deep." I run on, trying to get the words out before I can't speak past the lump in my throat.

"Are you serious? We have Pete freaking out back in that bus because he thought you were trying to-" Patrick exhales, pulling his head back a bit. He presses his forehead to mine, his eyes searching my own for a moment.

"I'm sorry." I apologize to him. The corner of his lips twitches up, and the sight of it makes my knees feel weak. Fuck, he's so close. His face is just right there and I can feel the cool breath escaping through the slight part between his lips and-

"Give me the razor," he says, "please." He adds. I suck in my bottom lip and clamp my teeth around it. My shaking fingers reach into my hoodie's pocket, the pads of my fingertips touching the sharp metal sitting there.

"Fine," I whisper, my mouth barely moving. Patrick smiles slowly when I pull it out, pressing it flat onto his awaiting palm.

"Come on, it's going to rain soon." Patrick tells me, tossing my hood up over my hair and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I nod, a weak smile twitching on my lips as he pulls me into his side.

Patrick takes me back inside the bus, passing the bus driver who only nods shortly, passing Joe, Elisa, and Andy sitting in the front lounge, and back into the bunk area. I drop my bag to the floor, sliding it under my bunk for the time being. He shoos me with a cute grin into the bathroom, where he follows me after with the First Aid Kit.

"Sit," Patrick says, a light laugh flowing from his mouth that literally makes my heart jump. I prop myself up onto the counter and shuffle into a sitting position. "Roll up your sleeve."

I pull up the sleeve of my sweater and hold out my wrist. I want to say that Patrick doesn't flinch, but that would be a lie because he kind of winces at the sight. But come on, of course anyone would.