Pete walked along the cold streets of L.A.
It was 3 a.m. and his insomnia was acting up more than usual, which caused him to start having an anxiety attack, which made his bipolar disorder worse.
He finally reached your house and he paced back and forth outside.
You lay awake on your bed, you couldn't seem to sleep. Something wasn't right..
Just then you heard a muffled "Fuck!" and a sob outside and then something thrashing around.
You got up and rushed to your window as quickly as you could. When you looked out at the ground from the second level of your house, you saw Pete.
He looked worse for wear, his hair was greasy, he looked like he was trying to pull out his hair, and he was pacing back and forth.
You quickly ran down stairs, and opened your door, quietly stepping out and looking at Pete.
He didn't notice you so you just observed for a moment.
He kept kicking the ground, and was pulling his hair, you heard small curses come from his mouth, and then you heard a sob.
You needed to know what was going on, so you finally stepped out into his view.
"Pete?" you asked.
"Y/N." he breathed out, suddenly he looked in panic, and you noticed that his face was red and tearstained.
"Pete!" you said a little louder as you stepped towards him.
He stepped back but tripped and fell over. He curled up and began to cry.
"Pete!" You said again. You rushed to his side and he was shaking uncontrollably.
He was having a panic attack.
You tried to remain calm, but it was a tad difficult, but it was also for Pete's sake.
You sat leaned against the tree in your front yard, and you pulled Pete into you, and pressed the side of his head to your chest, as you stroked his hair.
"It's okay Pete.... I'm right here Peter... You're going to be alright..." You rocked him back and forth, and after probably 40 minutes, he was still and breathing steadily.
"Y/N..." Pete sniffled as he back up to look at you.
"Yeah?" you asked, reaching out to touch the side of his face.
"Can we talk?... Inside?" he asked.
"Of course." you helped him up and held his hand until you were both inside.
You turned on your living room lamp and sat on the couch next to Pete.
"So... You're probably wondering.... What brought me.... All the way over here... Uhm..." he took a long pause between each phrase.
You waited patiently. Panic Attacks, especially ones like that fried Pete's brain. He could hardly function after them.
"My insomnia was worse than usual.... I couldn't sleep.... My thoughts started to race.... All I could think about wa-" he stopped and closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
"Was you."
You sat there listening sadly.
"I started to think about you and how much I...." his eyes began to tear up.
"I love you." he said, his voice trembling.
"My a-anxiety got the best of me, and I started to panic, and have a panic attack in your yard and I just I don't kno-"
"Pete..." you silenced him putting your hands over his on his leg.
"I love you too." you said.
"D-do you?" he asked looking into your eyes.
"Yes Pete! I always have." you say.
"Even with how fucked up I am?" he asked.
"You're not fucked up, Pete. Everyone has problems. and even with yours, I still love you and I always have." you say.
"Y/N..." he leaned forward and hugged you tightly.
"Thank you.... for always being here.... For me..."
When he backed up, you kissed his cheek.
He looked into your eyes for a moment, and then leaned in and kissed your lips.
Right now, Pete needed you more than anything, but you were glad to be there for him.
"Stay here tonight. I don't want you walking home this time of night, especially since you're so exhausted. You need some sleep." you said.
"Yeah..." he let out a sad chuckle as he wiped his tear stained face with the black sleeve of his sweater.
You led him upstairs and he took off his hoody and his pants so that he was just in his boxers, and you climbed in bed, holding up the covers for Pete to climb in with you.
You kissed his temple, and held him closely, while stroking his hair softly until he had finally fell asleep.