a/n // the song patrick sings is above
Pete is a wreck.
He's exhausted, for starters; he can't stop all the thoughts from everyone around from accumulating and filling up his brain, thudding around and buzzing like annoying little bees.
So as soon as he's shown to his room, he collapses, falling facedown into his pillow and thanking his stars for not being able to hear anything when he sleeps.
Or, so he tries.
Everyone is broadcasting at the same time, unknowingly; thousands of voices filling his ears and yelling, yelling way too loud.
He bunches his fists into the sheets, letting out a growl/scream, thumping his head hard into his pillow. The cotton smothers his frustrated screams as his hands press hard against the sides of his head in a desperate attempt to make them stop.
"Pete?"
It's Patrick, he realizes, who enters carefully; he broadcasts to him carefully, prising gently, his soft voice rising above the cacophony of everyone else's.
Are you okay?
Pete shakes his head, letting out a choked sob.
"I can't sleep I'm so exhausted and my head hurts like hell and everyone is just screaming-"
Patrick just frowns, before gently pressing Pete down into the featherdown of the bed.
He sits himself down beside him, and when he tries to get up he gently pushes him down again.
Then, he starts singing.
His voice is kind and genuine; it's beautiful, albeit rough from disuse, as if he hasn't had a reason to sing.
"Come on skinny love,
Just last the year
Pour a little salt
we were never here
My, my, my,
my, my, my,
my, my
Staring at the sink of blood
And crushed veneer."
Pete stifles down the light sob that crawls up his throat - Patrick's voice is raw with emotion and he's fucking good, Pete can tell.
"I tell my love
To wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes
And let me fall
My, my, my,
my, my, my,
my, my
Right in the moment
This order's tall."
His voice is slow and slanting; it cracks on some high notes and doesn't quite reach the lows, but it's.. Homely. Pete finds his eyelids flickering as the voices in his head begin to fade.
"I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
In the morning
I'll be with you
But it will be
A different kind
Cause I'll be holding
All the tickets
And you'll be owning
All the fines."
His eyes glide shut and he feels a surge of welcome peace; a yawn builds at the back of his throat as he feels Patrick's hands absentmindedly card through his black hair. Any other time it would have been strange; but here, it feels.. Familiar. Safe.
"Come on skinny love
What happened here?
Suckle on the hope
In light brassiere
My, my, my,
my, my, my,
my, my
Sullen load is full
So slow on the split."
Patrick's unoccupied hand rubs gentle circles into the strip of tan flesh just where his shirt lifts; his fingers are electric, and Pete practically shivers at the contact. It feels damn good and Pete loves it, back arching slightly as his hands venture higher.
"I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
Now all your love is wasted?
Then who the hell was I?
Now I'm breaking
At the britches
And at the end
Of all your lines."
Patrick's voice raises, crescendo, and Pete's breathing hitches as the circling hand brushes against his side, worming towards his belly. "Fuck," He breathes, biting his lip gently. He's so fucked.
"Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?"
Patrick finishes on a soft low note, and Pete finds himself begining to drift off as he hums the closing melody.
The last thing Pete recalls before falling asleep are soft lips against his cheekbone and a blanket being thrown across his body.
-
The headaches continue for the next three days, and, much to Pete's discontent, only get worse during the daytime.
Which is of course why he often gets Patrick to hum or sing gently to him when they get really bad.
He totally still hates him, though.
No doubt about that..
Right?
a/n // peterick action deticated to my queen thankspatrick because they actually like things i write??????????????
but yeah THEY'RE NOT HATING EACH OTHER THAT MUCH ANYMORE
*streamers fall from ceiling*
YOU ARE READING
superhuman
FanfictionPete's past comes back to haunt him, and as he runs away he's hit by a truck. Legally dead for 20 minutes, he's resurrected by a handsome blond stranger who explains to him that he is no longer human. As he soon realizes, he's what you call a Talent...
