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

Chapter Thirty Seven: I'm The First Kid To Write Of Hearts, Lies, And Friends

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

"I'm not hungry." I comment, inspecting my extremely short fingernails. They were bit down to the nub, possibly from all the times my anxiety practically ate me alive. Patrick, who is standing near the sink, is sighing at my refusal. I don't dare look up at him, not even having to to know he's probably disapproving of my behaviour.

"Cole, it's a chance for you and Pete to talk." Patrick states the obvious, the main reason why I don't want to go out to breakfast with everyone. I'd have to face them and see the disappointment in their eyes because of how I ran away and got my sorry ass beat up. I let my elbows stretch out, inevitably letting my head crash into the smooth, marble table. I wince, my headache worsening almost immediately.

"Holy sh-" I curse in pain, feeling my head throbbing from how badly I smacked it against the alley wall last night. Patrick sighs, crossing over to the breakfast bar I'm sitting at, slipping onto the stool next to me. I groan when I catch him looking at my neck, the dark spot covered up with probably fifty million layers of foundation and concealer. Patrick wasn't mad at me, why would he be? It wasn't my fault, and he completely understood that. But of course, it didn't mean he couldn't be mad at Derek for doing it to me. I feel him rubbing slow circles on my back, getting ready to go full on inspiring speech mode.

"Pete loves you. He didn't mean it. You love him. You know he didn't mean it." Patrick says simply, as if the concept was the easiest thing in the world. I turn my head to look at him, still slumped over the breakfast bar. He smiles softly, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. "He's your big brother, and he would die for you. I'm not even exaggerating, Colby."

"What-"

"He said he would protect you, even if it kills him. He broke down that day in the hospital, Cole. The day you told him about your attack." Patrick whispers, this information completely new to me. I raise my eyebrows, not even having to speak before Patrick is continuing, staring straight ahead at the tiled walls of the little kitchen. "After you fell asleep, I checked on Pete. He was ending the call to your parents, and the second he saw me, he ran to me and started crying. He kept crying into my shirt for an hour, blaming himself for not being there for you. He swore to never let Derek hurt you again, and when he found out about him on the train, he kind of lost it all over again. I'm sure he's beating himself up over it, but he needs you Cole. He needs you like you need him."

Like you need him.

"What time?" I finally ask Patrick after a somewhat long period of thought, contemplation, and silence. He takes a moment to understand what context the question is in, and when he realizes that it's about the breakfast, he grins.

"Twenty minutes, in the lobby. Don't forget your medication." He smiles, pressing a giant kiss to my temple. I roll my eyes, but I can't help but grin regardless. Patrick dives off of his bar stool, running to the hotel door and slipping out, probably to find the others. I drag myself off of the bar stool myself, finally making it to my bag to pick out an outfit. The weather at Superfly Ziplines tends to be colder, because it's high up, so I decide on navy skinny jeans, a black My Chemical Romance shirt Gerard Way gave me on my seventeenth birthday, and one of Hayley's black zip up hoodies that I 'borrowed' from her a week ago. After I change out of my The Hulk pajamas, I put in small extensions because my hair felt a bit shorter today(it's honestly short everyday). I grab a light coat before stuffing it into my Jansport bag, along with one of Joe's sweaters I borrowed from him a while ago, just in case it was really cold there. Just because my Vans were dirty, I slipped on a pair of Chucks that Pete bought me at the mall. I pull my bag straps over my shoulder before opening the pantry of our hotel room. Patrick bought a bit of junk food last night, so I pull out a bag of candy before stuffing two more into my backpack, along with my pill bottle. I finally lock the door behind me after I leave, not expecting a lanky Brendon Urie to pull me into a hug that literally sweeps me off of my feet the literal second I turn to head for the elevator.