Keep Me Out Of Trouble (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)

Chapter 5

I lied on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with my hands folded on my stomach. My eyes were wide open, sleeping was fruitless. I just couldn't do it. It was like prison all over again, where my worries kept me up all night. Except those worries were about what the prisoners would do to me if they found me. Now my worries were about what the police would do if they found me.

I turned on my side and heaved a sigh, staring at the fireplace whose embers were barely still burning, causing the dark room to gradually become dimmer.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to lay low here.

The longer I stay here, the more I'm putting myself and others in danger. Primarily Jane. She's tough all right, and she'll fight to the end, but she doesn't have an immunity item that'll save her from being arrested for guilt by association. Christian is even at risk of being imprisoned.

I sat up and put my head in my hands, knowing I was going to need to get out of town, and fast.

But how can I leave when I have no money? No clothes? No way to get out?

I need help. I'm not going to be able to do this alone.

But who in their right mind will help me? I can't go to Pete. He's out of the question. Plus, he'd already helped me enough, giving me a place to stay after I was released from prison and being the only person who treated me like I hadn't changed.

I stood up and walked over to the fireplace, picking up the iron poker and beginning to play with the embers, moving them around and making them glow a brighter orange color.

I killed a man.

He wasn't attacking me.

He wasn't trying to kill me.

He was just in his dressing room, hanging out before his show...disregarding the whore he was locked at the lips with...he wasn't doing anything.

And I killed him.

I swallowed hard, a heavy feeling forming in my chest.

Why couldn't I just be happy for Elisa and him? They were happy together. Or at least that's what everyone seemed to say. Everyone but Elisa, that is. She said she still loved me, she even told me she pretended Brendon was me sometimes. But then she turned her back on me and contradicted herself telling me she loved Brendon. So who was I left to believe?

Whatever the case was, I didn't love her anymore. I thought I did, but I didn't. I loved the Elisa I married, the Elisa I knew before I was incarcerated, the Elisa who wouldn't even consider cheating on me, let alone with Brendon.

But this Elisa? God no. I did not love this Elisa. This Elisa was a liar and a cheat. So in theory, I should be happy for her. She was finally with someone she deserved, someone just like her. A lying, cheating, good-for-nothing asshole.

I set the poker aside and sat down on the ground in front of the fireplace, pulling my knees into my chest and resting my chin on them, wrapping my arms around my legs.

So much for getting my life back in order...

*****

"Patrick...Patrick!...Patrick, wake up!"

I woke with a start and glanced up at Jane who was dressed in her uniform, standing over me with her hand on my shoulder.

She retracted her hand and gave me a worried look, "What are you doing on the floor?"

I looked around the room and noticed I was lying on the floor, in front of the now cold fireplace. "Oh, I must've fallen asleep here. I was up most of the night playing with the fire since I couldn't sleep."

"You're still having trouble falling asleep?" She inquired, helping me up off of the ground.

"It was getting better - you know, at Pete's - but last night was just...there was a lot on my mind that kept me up," I admitted vaguely to her, rubbing the back of my neck.

I met her gaze before she turned around and went into the kitchen. I followed her in there and saw she had a plate of food for me. She turned around and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said, sitting down at the counter and picking at the toast and eggs.

"So...how long do you think you'll be staying here?" She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back on the oven that wasn't on.

"Hopefully not long enough for the Feds to find me," I tried to make a joke to lighten the mood, but got no laugh out of Jane. Instead she just stared at me blankly. I cleared my throat and replied, "I really don't know, though. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do yet."

She sighed and peeled herself away from the oven, walking over to the counter I was sitting at, "Patrick, you know I'm always going to be here for you. I told you that when you were in jail. But...this time...it's really hard for me to stand by your side. I want to help you and be there for you, I really do because you're an incredible guy who just made a mistake - heaven forbid it's a really really big mistake - but if I'm being honest, I don't think you're going to get out of this...no matter what you decide to do. Last time you were incarcerated for a crime you didn't commit. What do you think is going to happen now that you've actually done something?"

"I don't know. That's why I need to stay here a few more days, that's all."

She shook her head, "Patrick...I'm out of the house all day. And Christian...he comes and goes. What if someone finds you while we're gone?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I just don't want anything bad happening to you. You're too nice of a guy to back to a bad place like that."

"I know, and that's why I need to figure out something soon. I know I need to get out. The sooner, the better. I just don't know how. I don't have money and I don't have a place to stay when I leave."

"Then what do you want me to do?" She asked, "Give you money? Give you an address to go to?"

"No..."

"Then what? What you want me to do?" She questioned, a tinge of frustration in her voice.

"I don't know!" I snapped, looking up at her.

She hung her head, murmuring, "I can only do so much for you, Patrick."

"Just give me a few more days, please," I begged, "I'll figure something out. Trust me."

"You better, Patrick, and you better do it soon." And with that, she stalked out of the kitchen, grabbing her keys and leaving the house, slamming the door behind her.

I heaved a sigh and pushed the plate of food away from me, crossing my arms.