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

Chapter 10

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for updating this book two days late. School's been keeping me busy and then yesterday I went to a Panic! concert last night and I know my reasons are lame, but please don't be upset with me. I try my best. I hope this update isn't too bad and thanks for reading! -Rachael

Christian stood downstairs, waiting as patiently as he could for Patrick to finish doing whatever he needed to do.

The only reason he agreed to help him was because it would get Patrick out of his life for good, ultimately salvaging his and Jane's failing relationship.

Deep down, Chris knew they were falling apart. He knew that the love he had for her was not returned, that the feeling they had when they first started dating, when they got married, was no longer there. And he knew exactly why. But he didn't want to admit it, didn't want to accept it.

Their relationship started crumbling when Patrick was accused of Sarah Urie's murder and incarcerated, Jane and he growing close.

Every night, even before meeting Patrick, she would come home with a new story to tell Chris about the inmates, but never did he hear more stories about the inmates than he did about Patrick specifically. First they were just like every other story - how he got there, what he did before he got there, how he acted while he was there.

But then at one point, she started to develop a sort of admiration for the man, which was odd. Admiration for a prisoner. Who ever heard of that? But as Jane always reminded Christian, he wasn't your typical prisoner. Chris rolled his eyes at this. And then, slowly, Patrick became the only person she would talk about, and with the way she talked about him, it was as if she was starting to grow a crush on him, like a middle schooler. Naturally, this angered Chris, which would make him act out on her. He didn't mean to, it just happened. He always had a problem with controlling his anger.

Christian paced the first floor a couple times, not knowing what to do with himself, when he stumbled across papers tucked underneath the couch in the living room. He tilted his head to the side before kneeling down and crawling across the carpet, pulling out the papers. He sat back on his heels and flipped through the papers, quickly realizing what they were. His heart began pounding against his chest as realization set in.

Just then, the home phone began to ring.

He stood up and walked into the kitchen, all while tearing the divorce papers into pieces before throwing the bits in the garbage. He wiped off the little pieces that stuck to his hands and went over to pick up the phone, holding it up to his ear, "Hello?"

"Chris?" It was Jane.

"Jane," He replied, trying his best not to sound angry, "Hey, is something wrong?" She was at work, so the only logically reason she would be calling him is if something was wrong.

"No, I just...I wanted to make sure Patrick's doing okay. He's still at the house, right?"

"Yeah, he's upstairs right now, dyeing his hair, I think."

"Dyeing his hair? Why is he dyeing his hair?"

"I don't know. He asked me if I could help him and then he told me he needed change his appearance before he left or something. So I went out a little while ago to get him some things. A friend of mine is going to get him a fake ID and then he'll be out of the house by tonight."

"Tonight? No! I didn't get to say goodbye to him!"

Christian shook his head, the anger he was trying to suppress eating away at his inside. "Look, Jane, I'm only doing what he asked me to. I thought you'd appreciate that, that I'm helping him out. You know, with you always telling me I don't do anything to help anyone."

"Chris...I do appreciate it," She tried to defend her reaction, "But I just...I want to say goodbye to him. Do you think you can convince him to stay until tonight? Or if that won't work, put him on the phone for me?"

"Jane, he needs to get out of here. I don't think it'd be in his best interest to stay here any longer than he needs to just so that you can say goodbye to him."

Silence emanated on the other end of the line.

"Anyways, what's the big deal?" He inquired, looking down at his hand and the ring on his fourth finger, "He's just another prisoner you'll never see again."

"He's not, though!"

"Why?"

There was a long pause before Jane retorted in a whisper, "I can't explain it, Chris."

"Okay. If you can't explain that to me, explain to me why there were fucking divorce papers underneath the couch," He pounded his hand on the counter, not being able to keep himself calm any longer. A glass cutting board sitting on the counter rattled from the impact.

"Chris, you weren't supposed to-"

Before Jane could answer her husband's question, Patrick came down the stairs and was standing in the foyer, facing Chris, whose eyes grew wide. He didn't recognize him, he looked completely different. "How do I look?"

Chris ended the call and slammed the phone down on the receiver, tightening his fists in anger. "You...You look great, man."

"Really?" A red color crept up in the former singer's cheeks. "Do you think anyone will recognize me?"

"Not a soul," Chris replied with a forced smile, his short nails digging into the palms of his hands, making him start to bleed.