Falling Again (For You)

Chapter 1

"What the fuck were you doing?", Joe shouts at Andy.

He flinches a little, and when Joe realized what he did, he quickly runs over, whispering sorry's into his ear, hugging him tight. Pete walks over to Patrick, ducking slightly to whisper into his ear. He had an obvious height advantage, everyone does.

"When are they going to get together?", he says softly.

Patrick smiles a little, just a little.

Their van crashed onto the side of the road. They were in between towns so basically all that surrounded them were trees and snow. Luckily no one got hurt. Patrick had a scratch on his cheek, and Pete got a few scratches on his arm, but there was nothing fatal. Patrick doesn't believe in God, but he thanks him anyways because his friends are safe.

"What do we do now?", Patrick asks, a slight shiver to his words. One, because it was fucking cold out, and two, because he's still shaken up about this whole thing. All he knew was that he was drifting off to sleep, and the next thing that happened was him getting woken up by the sound of tires scraping the ground, and glass braking. If he had been just a little more over to the left of where he was was sitting, he's sure he'd be dead.

"I just called the tow truck. They're coming from the town like thirty minutes away, so I guess we're just going to have to wait here until they come."

It's not like they could leave anyways. All their equipment and instruments were in the car. They were lucky nothing broke because they wouldn't be able to afford to replace anything so the idea of leaving them behind, opening them up to greedy hands was a definite no. Pete doesn't blame them. If he found free instruments on the side of the road, he'd grab them too.

Pete chuckles, and Patrick raises his eye brow at him.

"What?"

"I'm just thinking about the four of us talking about being in a band at that pizza parlor. It seemed like such a long time ago, and it was so impossible to us then."

Patrick smiles too, letting the nostalgia take him over.

"It still seems pretty impossible, Pete."

"Yeah, it kinda does, doesn't it? I mean, we're standing on the side of the road because we crashed our van. What about the 'tour' now?"

Pete motions quotation marks when he says tour. This wasn't really a tour. It was just a few concert dates at a few cities and towns near Chicago.

"Fall Out Boy, it still feels foreign saying it. I don't think I'll ever get use to it."

Andy walks over, and so does Joe. His face still looks flustered, but they're both calmer than they were a second ago.

"Remember when we played our first song together?", Patrick says.

They're all huddled close together, wearing each others jackets and coats. All of their properties got mixed together the first week they all moved into the that tiny apartment they made their first album in.

"That was the first time I had felt alive since going to the hospital.", Andy says quietly.

They never talked much about the days at the hospital. Patrick had only spent a week there, and it didn't seem very fitting for them to talk about it after Andy and Joe left. But they didn't necessarily ignore it either. They talked about it on the nights they ran out of ideas for lyrics, and they laughed over it when they had a little too much alcohol, but other then that, it was mutually agreed upon that what was in the past should stay in the past, and they were working on the future.

"We should move the instruments out.", Joe says after a long silence.

Pete nods, walking over to the car, the others follow.