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

Epilogue: Put Me Through Hell And I'll Make You See

Patrick drops his keys into the little bowl by the door, venturing further into our apartment and heading for the kitchen. I put my cup into the sink, pulling the tap up before closing it, wondering why I was attempting to rinse a water cup. I shake my head and turn around, nearly crashing right into Patrick.

"Oh my God, you scared me." I breathe out, a hand over my chest as Patrick grins at me. He kisses me on the cheek before speaking.

"Sorry." He says sheepishly. "The guys are here," he smiles at me, referring to my brother, Mother Hurley, and Joe Hoe/Pringles Hair. I nod my head and let out a yawn, glancing at the clock above the door. It was only six in the evening. "Are you tired?"

"Just stressed." I correct him, rubbing my itching eye lightly. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Is it the wedding?" He asks me, and when I shyly nod, he sighs softly. "Cole, don't worry about it. The Planner is coming in tomorrow again- a professional. She'll bring more options and help us out, okay?"

"Yeah," I agree, smiling when he pulls me into a hug. "Is Maya home?"

"My mom said she'd take care of her for the night." Patrick responds. I sigh in relief. A break.

"I love you, Patrick." I mumble.

"Love you, too, Colby." He smiles, pulling back before extending his left arm. My eyes catch sight of his engagement ring while he's pulling the fridge door open and taking out a case of pop. He bumps the door shut with his hip, winking at me before taking my hand.

"There's the little shit," Pete jokes once Patrick and I enter the living room, where the group of three have already set camp. Pete's ordered the pizza already and Andy has gone to work on hooking his laptop up to our television. Patrick drops the drinks on the table before he plops down on the one seater love seat, gently pulling me down with him. I laugh lightly as he scoots over, letting me sit half on him and half on the chair.

"Hey there, big shit." I shoot back at Pete, who rolls his eyes at me.

"How's the wedding planning going?" Joe asks.

"Okay, I guess. We're planning on a themed wedding," I begin, leaning my head on Patrick. "But the Wedding Planner keeps having to postpone meetings because of other clients."

"It'll be fine," Andy says, scrolling through the movie folder on his laptop for the movies he's torrented online. "Let's just chill for the night, okay?"

"Sure." I respond, smiling.

Three years. This is our third year, and Patrick and I are planning to get married in a few months. I'm not nineteen anymore, but rather twenty two, while Patrick is twenty five years old. Three years since the Discomposed Composers tour, and my boys are still pumping out albums.

Three years since Pete signed me to his record label DCD2, and also three years since Fueled By Ramen signed me to their record label. I've been busy with work and all that jazz. I got this crappy office job to make a bit of extra money for Patrick and I in addition to the shit ton coming in because of their new album American Beauty/American Psycho. We're not making tens of millions or anything, but we have a decent amount of money that Patrick keeps in a shared account between us in the bank.

This is also the third year that Derek Skinner has been in jail.

We had overwhelming evidence to prove that he was guilty as fuck, and Elisa helped to testify against him as well. She's sworn to not bother us again and that she's so sorry for everything she's done. So far, she's stuck to the plan, and Patrick and I couldn't have been happier. But Derek gets out soon. We couldn't pin him for attempted murder because the guns had all of our fingerprints and there was no video surveillance that he shot us. That means that he will possibly get out of jail sometime in the next three years, but Patrick promised me that jail changes people and that he'll have probably learned his lesson by then.

"What are you thinking about?" Patrick whispers to me, and I almost jump when I realize that I've zoned out long enough for Andy to choose a film and for the first five minutes to go by.

"Maya," I sigh. "The wedding. Derek-"

"Is an asshole that isn't coming back, okay?" Patrick says, tilting my head up so I can look him in the eyes. "You're safe as long as you believe you are."

"I don't know, it's just... tiring. I love Maya to pieces, and I love you so much that it hurts, but I guess I'm just scared."

"Of what?" Patrick inquires.

"Losing my way again. Not being a good enough mother or wife... Not burning my bridges..." I say.

"You've crossed the bridge," Patrick reminds me.

"But how will I know it's mine? How will I trace my steps back here if I get lost?" I whisper softly, enjoying the feeling of Patrick's fingers stroking through my hair.

"You'll just... know. I guess you'll just feel it." Patrick guesses.

"Those bridges are supposed to be my guide- lighting my way back home when I inevitably fuck everything up."

"You have me to always be by your side." Patrick tells me. "I'll always be there to guide you back home, okay?"

"Promise?" I ask him, lifting my pinky finger up. He hooks his own around mine, grinning.

"Promise, Porcelain."

-/::\-

ITS THE END- I'm unsure of whether I should be crying or excited!

This is the first book I've ever completed, and that's thanks to all the motivation you sweethearts have given me. I literally wouldn't be anywhere without you guys. We've achieved together over 200 thousand reads, about 7000 votes, and nearly nine thousand comments. This book was a party, I swear. And, we've assumed the number one position on the Fall Out Boy tag and the Patrick Stump tag. Thank you guys so much.

Sequel is called Light My Way Back Home, and it is going to be sick as frick, so check it out when i post it.

-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes,

•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken