It was 3am but Pete was up, the yellow glare of street lights guiding his way down the dark streets of Chicago. The air was chilled as he walked past old apartment buildings and closed up shops, just wanting some happiness. Another bout of depression was looming in his mind and he hated it. He let his headphones cloud his mind, dark lyrics fading into his dark thoughts. Of course, Pete knew that things would get better in time and that he had a reason to be alive but right now, he had forgotten all of that, shoving it to the back of his mind.
The odd thing was, deep inside, he liked depression.
It may have sounded absolutely stupid but it was the morbid truth. The darkness that liked to swirl around his head brought him a form of comfort- although twisted- that seemed to be a part of him. It was the closed off warmth that the sadness hungered for, the feeling that this darkness was like an unforgiving armor, shielding him from the world.
While most people would fend off depression or take medication, Pete subconsciously let it devour him, wanting the feeling he once owned.
Continuing down the streets past sleepless hobos and decaying buildings, his feet lead the way towards the familiar neighborhood he had visited quite a few times. Messy trees swayed as he passed the dark houses where occasional lights could be seen. Then Patrick's house.
A tv was visible from the shuttered window, all other sources of light off besides a small glow from one of the upstairs Windows. It appeared to be a desk lamp based on the brightness and from the open window, he could see a the outline of a fedora and a small picture frame on the window frame.
Even through the thick fog that had enveloped Pete's mind, it still brought a smile to know that Patrick was there, that he cared and right now a smile was all he needed.
"I swear Ry, I have a gaydar."
Brendon grinned as he walked down the street hand in hand with his boyfriend. "I highly doubt that." Ryan frowned, looking around at the numerous shoppers that flooded the sidewalks. "Those two girls, the one on the left is a total lesbo for the other. And those police officers, well let's just say those hand cuffs are used for more things than arresting criminals." The taller smirked making his companion burst into giggles. Brendon simply shook his head, grinning down at his brown haired boy, the sun shinning perfectly on the two like a stage light.
It was a perfect day, the two walking past the fast paced shoppers while talking about random things, simply enjoying each other's presence. Kids raced down the side walks on either side of the two, running up ahead to where their parents walked. "I can't wait till we get married and have kids." Brendon smiled, imagining the idea in his head like a movie scene. He had always adored the idea of having a little kid around, being a dad. "I'm sorry to burst you bubble but guys can't have kids. It's impossible." Ryan grinned, tone teasing. "Not in mpreg fics." Brendon smirked, watching the boys face contort into disgust. "Stop!" He squealed, covering his ears in attempt to block out the detailed description Brendon was already whispering into his ear. "You know you love it!" He yelled out, nearing the crosswalk. "Never!" Ryan smiled back, about to cross the street when a car sped out in front of him, crushing into Brendon instantaneously.
Time seemed to slow as he ran into the road, as if no matter how fast he ran he couldn't save Brendon in time.
"Bren!" The boy yelled out, terrified as he stared at the crumpled body that lied on the ground. Running over, he lifted his bloody boyfriend onto his lap, feeling for a pulse, searching for a sign of breath, anything. Ryan was sobbing now, grabbing Brendon's body in hopes of reviving him, anything to keep him alive.
He didn't look up, continuing to look for any source of pulse.
Turning around, he noticed people crowding him when all of a sudden, Brendon was being taken away by the crowd. "No!" He screamed out, grasping toward the people.
With a gasp, Ryan's eyes opened, tears streaming down his face as sobs over took him, Mikey and Dallon looking at him with a frown. "Shhhh it will be okay." Dallon confided, hugging the boy tightly in attempt to take away the pain. "B-Bren." He cried, wishing he was back in Brendon's arms where he belonged.
"It will be okay... It will all be okay."
Patrick's stomach growled but he ignored the pain as he walked down the street toward the nearby hospital where Pete and Brendon were in attempt to get some exercise. He couldn't remember the last time he had ate a whole meal, only that it it had been longer than a week, eating small bits of food occasionally when he exercised. He felt nauseous as the sun beat down on him but it was the price he would have to pay to become his goal weight. When he looked in the mirror every morning he hated what he saw and he wanted to change that..... no matter what.
As he walked the few miles to the hospital, he took in his surroundings, watching cars pass and the occasional string of people walking past, eyes absent of emotion. It reminded Patrick of Boulevard Of Broken Dreams with the emotionless people and monotone cars, it was as if he was the only one who was actually alive and real.
"I walk this lonely road, the only one that I have ever known..." Patrick sang lightly, smiling slightly at the song.
All of a sudden, he was drenched in what appeared to be soda, watching as a car drove away quickly from the scene. What the fuck? Was all Patrick could think as he glanced down at his soaked figure, confused and angry.
Why was he such a magnet for hate? What made him a key target for abuse? Maybe he appeared weak to the public, like someone that could be thrown around easily or maybe he was simply a nuisance to society, getting targeted because of his uselessness. Whatever the reason, he hated it even though he more than likely deserved it.
As he walked, his clothes started to feel thicker and the layer of drink that washed over him started to become a sticky mess. It was already a bad day, his father throwing punches as soon as he woke up and a group chat message from Mikey saying that Ryan was getting bad from Brendon's comatose state- this only added to his list of problems.
As he neared the hospital, more people walked by casting him an odd look at his appearance, not exactly making him feel any better than he already was.
"Patrick! Are you okay?"
Looking up, Pete, decked in black with smeared eyeliner was walking over to him cigarette in between his fingers as he took in the boy's appearance. "Uh... I'm okay enough. Some guys poured soda on me but beside that, I'm fine." Patrick answered in attempt to brush off the boys concern. Within an instant, Pete latched onto the boy, pulling him into a welcoming hug.
"I'm not stupid. I see your new bruises and that is seriously not okay. Once I find out who is doing this to you, you can guarantee I'll beat the shit out of them but I'm not going to pressure you to tell me. Just.... It would be nice know. I really care about you." Pete whispered, finally letting go of Patrick before leading him into the hospital where Brendon lay, a nurse checking his vital signs.
"Any changes?" Pete asked, watching the nurse carefully. "No, he's in stable condition still, not any better or worse, it's all just a matter of when or if he will wake up." She smiled sadly, leaving the room. Silence enveloped the room as Pete walked over to Brendon, pushing his hair slightly aside before sitting down in the chairs near his bed side. "Did you hear about Ryan?" Patrick asked quietly, watching the comatose boy.
"Yeah. I don't know what to do. If I lost you in a coma, I guess I'd be the same way." Pete frowned, effectively making the boy blush before looking back at him. "Obviously I'm not too... good myself. I mean, he's my best friend. The only thing that will help Ryan is for Brendon to wake up." Pete sighed before remembering Patrick's sticky state. "Hey, if you want, you can hop in the patient shower to get that sticky shit off." He suggested, gingerly picking at Patrick's fedora. "But I don't have any clothes to change into." The boy admitted shyly. "For you, I would do anything. Including giving you the clothes off my back." Pete said in a poetic manner, grinning cheekily before watching the boy awkwardly shuffle into the bathroom out of embarrassment.
God he loved that boy but did Patrick love him back?
A/N: IM RLLY SORRY I HAVENT UPDATED MY BRO GOT MARRIED AND MY FAMILY CAME TO TOWN SRRY FORGIVE ME PLS
This chapter is dedicated to smol_fedora bc whenever I update, they are always the first one to vote and comment on it and it makes me rlly happy so thank you☺️
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In The End I'd Do It All Again (Peterick & Ryden)Fanfiction
Pete Wentz, the son of a rich businessmen who wants him to follow in his footsteps while Pete just wants to take his own path without judgement. Patrick Stump, a boy who is depressed, abused and broken. He has no hope left, no one who cares. Will Pe...