Drop a Heart, Make a Name. (3/?)
When Patrick was younger there was this nightmare he always had. He would be in a room. The walls were white and the ceiling was white and even the floor, and there was never a door. Just nothing, and if he looked down he wouldn’t be able to see his feet or any of his limbs. After a while the walls would start to close in, the room would get smaller and smaller till it was about to engulf him and then it was stop. Just where his head was touching one wall and his nose the other and he couldn’t move his arms. He would stand there breathing heavily until it was come closer, so that he could hardly breathe. It would taut him and he would eventually give in and scream. Then the laughing would begin, in his ears, in his fucking head, Hysterical and unforgiving. Until Patrick woke up shaking and sweating hard and there was a shadow at the window that would move and disappear.
When Pete arrived shaking at Ryan Ross’s doorstep, Ryan didn’t hesitate to invite him in and offer him tea and if Pete hadn’t been so desperate, maybe he would have been more suspicious. Gerard had warned Pete against Ryan many a time, not believing he had changed but Pete went anyway. Ryan was the only person Pete knew that could help him.
“Ryan, you have to help me,” Pete had opened with.
Raising an eyebrow, Ryan replied, “Why?”
“What?” Pete looked up at Ryan and found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.
“My heart is the barrel of the gun, remind me which side I should be on, “ Ryan whispered softly.
“That’s not the right words,” Pete murmured.
Ryan snarled and shot Pete in the chest. Gasping Pete fell backward off his chair and onto the ground. Ryan leaned over him and smiling as Pete’s world went black.
When Patrick woke up, he strapped to a metal table in a room, he couldn’t really make out anything. All he could really see was the ceiling but it kept going in and out of focus.
“Ah, it seems our guest has awoken,” Patrick heard a voice to his left and struggled to see who was talking to him.
“No,,,no, don’t strain yourself honey,” Someone leaned over him and stroked his cheek, “It’s okay.”
“No,” Patrick muttered under his breath, “No.”
She just smirked, “You have no idea.”
And Patrick blacked out again.
When Patrick woke up again he was strapped to a chair with a headache. Looking around him, he saw he was in an interview room with a table and another chair opposite him. In the chair sat a woman who surveyed him with creepy interest, like he was an experiment. When she saw that he was awake, she stood up excitedly.
“Finally, I was worried Brendon had killed you.”
“Who are you?” Patrick asked, squinting at her.
“My name is Cristina,” She said, “Remember that.”
When Patrick said nothing, she frowned, “No questions?”
“I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway.”
She smiled, “You’ve done your research I see.”
When he didn’t reply to that either, she scowled, “Not a talker I see. No matter, I shall tell you. This is Chicago mental hospital.”
“Mental?” Patrick raised an eyebrow, “Explains why you’re here.”
“Shut up!” She screamed, and hit him across the face, “Anyways, you’re here and you’re never coming out.”
“Why?”
“Why, mister Stump, well cos’ you’re pretty,” She grinned devilishly and smacked him across the face. She carefully untied him, and he made for the door but she got there first and dragged him backward. He screamed and tried to get free but he was weak from the drugs they had given him. She pushed him up against the wall and grabbed at his hair pulling hard. He screamed.
“Good,” she said smirking, “Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Patrick replied through his teeth.
She pouted, “Now, now, Patrick, don’t pretend.”
Then she broke his arm with a single movement, “Come, on I’m a patient woman but you’re really starting to piss me off.”
Patrick grimaced, “I really don’t know.”
“Fine,” She said calmly, “But you will crack.”
With that she left Patrick lying in the corner of in interrogation room, staring at the door incredulously.
“Why is everyone so violent?” He murmured to himself shaking his head,
Gerard called a meeting, and when Gerard calls a meeting everyone comes.
“So,” He began placing both of his hands on the cold wooden surface, “What the fuck is going on?”
“I think, “Andy stood choosing his words carefully, “I think Patrick got kidnapped.” Gerard nodded sullenly, “and Pete’s gone crazy.”
“Pete’s always crazy,” objected Mikey, “He’ll get over it.”
“How can you say that?” Gerard said furiously, “A life is a life, Mikey and Patrick is a good friend.”
Mikey looked at his feet guilty.
“What happened to Joe?” Greta asked quietly after a while.
“We don’t know,” Travis said from his seat, “Mike said he got away but if he’s still in town, he won’t get very far.”
Gabe sighed, “Last time a saw Pete was Wednesday,”
Gerard looked at him, “What?”
“Yeah, he was going to the warehouse and I stopped him.”
“Good man, does anyone have any ideas were he might have gone?”
Around the table people shook their heads.
“Wait what about that Ross kid?” Andy asked.
“Ryan,” Gerard’s eyes widened, “Ryan fucking Ross.”
“Wait, I saw him with William,” Everyone turned to look at Adam, “Yeah he was in the dandy mansion.”
“Fuck,” Gerard swore.
“It looks like we’ve got a big, big mess on our hands tonight,” William murmured from his spot outside the window. Grinning, he slipped off into the night, unseen.
When Pete arrived shaking at Ryan Ross’s doorstep, Ryan didn’t hesitate to invite him in and offer him tea and if Pete hadn’t been so desperate, maybe he would have been more suspicious. Gerard had warned Pete against Ryan many a time, not believing he had changed but Pete went anyway. Ryan was the only person Pete knew that could help him.
“Ryan, you have to help me,” Pete had opened with.
Raising an eyebrow, Ryan replied, “Why?”
“What?” Pete looked up at Ryan and found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.
“My heart is the barrel of the gun, remind me which side I should be on, “ Ryan whispered softly.
“That’s not the right words,” Pete murmured.
Ryan snarled and shot Pete in the chest. Gasping Pete fell backward off his chair and onto the ground. Ryan leaned over him and smiling as Pete’s world went black.
When Patrick woke up, he strapped to a metal table in a room, he couldn’t really make out anything. All he could really see was the ceiling but it kept going in and out of focus.
“Ah, it seems our guest has awoken,” Patrick heard a voice to his left and struggled to see who was talking to him.
“No,,,no, don’t strain yourself honey,” Someone leaned over him and stroked his cheek, “It’s okay.”
“No,” Patrick muttered under his breath, “No.”
She just smirked, “You have no idea.”
And Patrick blacked out again.
When Patrick woke up again he was strapped to a chair with a headache. Looking around him, he saw he was in an interview room with a table and another chair opposite him. In the chair sat a woman who surveyed him with creepy interest, like he was an experiment. When she saw that he was awake, she stood up excitedly.
“Finally, I was worried Brendon had killed you.”
“Who are you?” Patrick asked, squinting at her.
“My name is Cristina,” She said, “Remember that.”
When Patrick said nothing, she frowned, “No questions?”
“I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway.”
She smiled, “You’ve done your research I see.”
When he didn’t reply to that either, she scowled, “Not a talker I see. No matter, I shall tell you. This is Chicago mental hospital.”
“Mental?” Patrick raised an eyebrow, “Explains why you’re here.”
“Shut up!” She screamed, and hit him across the face, “Anyways, you’re here and you’re never coming out.”
“Why?”
“Why, mister Stump, well cos’ you’re pretty,” She grinned devilishly and smacked him across the face. She carefully untied him, and he made for the door but she got there first and dragged him backward. He screamed and tried to get free but he was weak from the drugs they had given him. She pushed him up against the wall and grabbed at his hair pulling hard. He screamed.
“Good,” she said smirking, “Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Patrick replied through his teeth.
She pouted, “Now, now, Patrick, don’t pretend.”
Then she broke his arm with a single movement, “Come, on I’m a patient woman but you’re really starting to piss me off.”
Patrick grimaced, “I really don’t know.”
“Fine,” She said calmly, “But you will crack.”
With that she left Patrick lying in the corner of in interrogation room, staring at the door incredulously.
“Why is everyone so violent?” He murmured to himself shaking his head,
Gerard called a meeting, and when Gerard calls a meeting everyone comes.
“So,” He began placing both of his hands on the cold wooden surface, “What the fuck is going on?”
“I think, “Andy stood choosing his words carefully, “I think Patrick got kidnapped.” Gerard nodded sullenly, “and Pete’s gone crazy.”
“Pete’s always crazy,” objected Mikey, “He’ll get over it.”
“How can you say that?” Gerard said furiously, “A life is a life, Mikey and Patrick is a good friend.”
Mikey looked at his feet guilty.
“What happened to Joe?” Greta asked quietly after a while.
“We don’t know,” Travis said from his seat, “Mike said he got away but if he’s still in town, he won’t get very far.”
Gabe sighed, “Last time a saw Pete was Wednesday,”
Gerard looked at him, “What?”
“Yeah, he was going to the warehouse and I stopped him.”
“Good man, does anyone have any ideas were he might have gone?”
Around the table people shook their heads.
“Wait what about that Ross kid?” Andy asked.
“Ryan,” Gerard’s eyes widened, “Ryan fucking Ross.”
“Wait, I saw him with William,” Everyone turned to look at Adam, “Yeah he was in the dandy mansion.”
“Fuck,” Gerard swore.
“It looks like we’ve got a big, big mess on our hands tonight,” William murmured from his spot outside the window. Grinning, he slipped off into the night, unseen.