Hand of God (Peterick Fanfic)

Part Twenty-Two (Found Out)

ok i realize theyre flying and they were in like ny on the 5th of feb for the show right after the first one in chicago and then they were in like cali on the 7th and then they went to england and stuff later but shshfshshhsh story purposes

i wrote this instead of doing my homework so ENJOY

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POV: Patrick

I wake up without any concept of what time it is or how long I've been asleep. There's mixed voices coming from the kitchen area of the bus, and I reason I'm probably the last one to get up as I usually am. I twist around uncomfortably, my jeans pressing into my hips angrily. I realize yet again I haven't changed out of my clothes - or my jeans rather, since I'm wearing Pete's shirt.

I'm wearing Pete's shirt. And everyone else is already up. I panic for a second, thinking I've screwed up badly. I try to calm myself by taking deep breaths. Think, I reprimand myself. Nobody woke me up. Nobody is whispering about us. Nobody is even talking to me, and I don't hear my name. Nobody probably noticed. Joe and Andy must have come over for breakfast, and they have no reason to check on me because they could just ask or assume I'm asleep. Brendon and Pete already know, obviously. I take a deep breath again, calming down as I think rationally. I slide out of bed quietly and walk to the front of the sleeping area in the hopes of shutting the door quietly so that nobody sees me in his shirt. I make it to the door but when I begin to slide it shut, Joe and Pete turn to look at me. A smile breaks out on Pete's face, but a look of confusion crosses Joe's.

"I thought that was Pete's shirt?" he says, cocking his head to the side. I stand frozen and look to Pete, a flash of realization hitting him.

"Uh, yeah, Patrick STOLE it. Patrick, give that back," Pete covers. He says it in a joking manner with an air of confidence, but I know he's a little nervous. I do my best to roll with it and let a convincing smile spread over my face.

"Yeah, okay, fine," I say jokingly. I finish shutting the door and change quickly, my heart pounding rapidly. I open the door back up and throw Pete's shirt at him. It hits him in the face and he staggers back a few steps. I laugh and so does Brendon, but Joe and Andy don't seem to notice. I look around and see they're all having breakfast still. I walk over to the small table next to the couch and sit across from Brendon, who's nearly done eating.

"Morning," he says through a stuffed mouth. I roll my eyes at him and slouch down a little. My stomach hints at a rumble but I ignore it. Brendon shoves the last bit of egg on his plate in his mouth and gets up, throwing his plastic plate and fork in the small trash can. He moves to the couch and positions himself to be looking at the TV. I watch him go, but then I see Pete walking toward me with a small plate of eggs and a cup of coffee. He sits down across from me, where Brendon was sitting, and pushes the plate over to me. He sips the coffee and then speaks.

"Joe made eggs. They're good, you should try some," he says casually. It sends a prick of annoyance through me. I know he's trying to get me to eat but he's trying to act like he's not. I push the plate back to him.

"Nah, I'm not really hungry, Pete," I say with a little warning in my voice. Brendon notices it and glances back at me, quickly casting his gaze down and then back to the TV like he didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Please, Patrick, eat a little," he says desperately, his voice barely above a whisper. I close my eyes and set my jaw, taking a deep breath in to control myself. I roll my eyes back open.

"No." Joe and Andy pick up on the tension and turn to look at us, stopping their conversation. They glance worriedly at me and then at Pete, their eyes shifting back and forth.