I Could Be Him (Patrick Stump / Fall Out Boy Fanfic)

Chapter 6 - You Hate Him More Than You Notice

                  

Patrick

            It's been three days, and she still hasn't spoken a word to me. In fact, she's taken to purposely avoiding me. Every time I walk into a room, she walks out, and every time I so much as glance at her, she looks the other way. I would take it personally, if it weren't for Pete. He talks to her every day, all day, and when he doesn't, it's Megan. They both relay to me how Ash is holding up, and even the couple of times when she's mentioned me. Yesterday, for example, she told Megan that she wanted to talk to me, but she was still upset that I had told Pete everything. That's something, right? At least she doesn't hate me.

            I've been sleeping on the couch every night, as Pete refuses to let me leave. He says he wanted me around in case Josh decides to show up. Honestly, I'd rather he keep Joe or Andy around, because I know I'm not much of a threat to Josh. Either way, I think my presence was more or less what kept Pete calm through all of this, because it hasn't gotten any easier than when we first brought her here. Every night, she's woken up screaming. She keeps having nightmares that Josh is coming for her, yet she still says she loves him and needs to go home. Pete is usually the first one in her bedroom when she starts screaming, so I usually end up just standing awkwardly in the doorway while I watch him hold his sister.

            On this particular night, however, things were a little different. I couldn't sleep, even though it was almost two in the morning, and I was sitting in the living room with my laptop. I was just starting to feel a little drowsy, and the laptop light was beginning to hurt my eyes, so I decided to close it and set it on the coffee table. I got up and wandered through the dark house to the bathroom, which was across from the guest room and next to Bronx's. I went in to use the toilet and then washed my hands, glancing up at myself in the mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes, because of all the broken sleep the last few nights. I sighed and grabbed a towel to dry my hands, and just then, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air.

            I dropped the towel and sprinted, without thinking, into the room across the hall. I was vaguely aware of the slamming of another door behind me, which must have been Pete storming out of his room. Ash was sitting bolt upright in bed, her hands in her hair, and tears running down her face. She was hyperventilating as I collapsed on the bed beside her, pulling her into my arms. She grasped desperately at my shirt, all of her anger towards me forgotten. I gently rubbed my hand up and down her back, telling her it would be okay and that I was here.

            "He's coming," She gasped, choking back more tears as she pressed her face against my neck. "He wants you."

            "He's not coming for you, Ash, I promise. I won't let him."

            "He's coming for you," she whimpered, pulling at my shirt in frustration.

            I hesitated, pulling back to look at her. "What?" I asked. She looked up at me fully for the first time in days, but before she could say anything, Pete screamed from the doorway.

            "Hey!" He shouted, looking at the window. He immediately darted from the room, running out the front door in a heartbeat. Ash pressed close to me again, gripping my sleeves as she hid her face against my chest and cried. Meagan stood helpless in the doorway, the two of us staring at the window in the hopes that we might see Pete, or whatever he was chasing. After a long, gut-wrenching moment of silence, we heard him stumble back in the front door. Meagan ran to him, and he walked in the room with her a minute later.

            "What happened?" I asked, still holding his sobbing sister to my chest.

            "He was out there," Pete said, out of breath. "I saw him. I don't know where he went."