Happy Miserable Mess (FOB/Patrick Stump FanFic)

Chapter 18

"Hey!"

I snapped my head in the direction of the voice and saw a custodian storming towards us.

"What are you doing in here? School's closed!"

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, picking Parker up in my arms and running away.

"You get back here!" The custodian shouted after me. My son burst into laughter, bouncing up and down in my arms as I bolted down the empty hallways in an attempt to lose the old janitor.

I reached the classroom that we sneaked in through and rushed inside, closing the door behind me before going over to the window. I set my son down and lifted the window up, picking him up again and slipping him through. I crawled out after him and, just as I set foot on the ground, the door to the classroom flung inward - revealing the angry custodian who was wheezing, trying to catch his breath.

I smirked and waved my hand, sliding the window shut and spinning around, wrapping my hand around Parker's and dragging him towards the car. I helped him into his car seat and swept into the front, revving the engine and speeding away.

My heart heart pounded against my chest and adrenaline pumped through my veins as we drove down the snowy streets. Although it was a little lame, being chased by a custodian at my old high school was the most fun I'd had in a while. It was even more fun than going to Disneyland with the guys. I hadn't had to do something like that in years, and it felt great. A smile stretched across my face and my grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"What was that, Daddy?" Parker asked me.

I glanced back at him through the rear view mirror, the smile that was actually starting to hurt because I hadn't had one in so long remaining on my face, "What do you mean?"

He rested his head back and looked out the frosty window, "Why were we running away from that guy?"

"Because we weren't supposed to be in there, Buddy."

"Then...why did we come here? If we weren't supposed to be there?"

"Because I'm taking you to all the places that meant something to Mommy and me," I answered him, my smile beginning to falter, "And that room meant something to us. It's where we met. If it wasn't for that room, we wouldn't be here right now. You wouldn't be asking me why we're going to all these places. You wouldn't even be here."

Parker's gaze met mine and he just stared at me, not understanding the concept of him not being born. I heaved a sigh and said, "Never mind, Park." I sat back in my seat.

There was a long period of silence before Parker inquired, "Where are we going now, Daddy?"

I bit my lip, thinking about the next place I wanted to take him.

There wasn't much left to show him in Chicago, because the places I showed him, they only really meant something to me. Not to her. She hated Chicago, that was why we moved to Los Angeles almost right after high school.

All these places I was taking him, they only held happy memories for me.

For her, though, it was a completely different story. All these places I was taking him, they held bad memories for her. Memories of too many tears shed, too many times coming home and feeling like she wasn't wanted, like she'd be better off dead.

Of course, I only found out about this in a letter I found years after her death that she'd written me. A letter she wrote to me before taking those pills and slitting her wrists. Supposedly she'd been working on it for days, trying to get the wording right.

I took in a deep breath, the smile on my face vanished, and retorted, "We're going back to Grandpa's. I think we've gone to enough places, don't you think?"

*****

I sat at the dinner table back at my dad's house, pushing the food Jeanette had made around on my plate. As for Parker, he was telling Jeanette all about the places he'd gone today. She nodded her head in understanding and threw in an "Oh, really?" or "That's cool!" every now and then. My dad just stared at me, wondering what was wrong, but he was too shy to ask.

I heaved a sigh and set my fork down, rising to my feet and attracting everyone's attention. My cheeks warmed up. "What? I'm just going to the bathroom," I assured them before quickly leaving the room and going upstairs, into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and fell against it, closing my eyes and sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I covered my hands with my face and squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to roll down my cheeks.

What was I thinking? Coming to Chicago? I had no purpose, I had no reason, I just wanted to get away from it all. But no matter where I went, I couldn't get away it. Every place I went to, every thing I did, they were all was just a constant reminder of the horrific event that had been haunting me since the day it happened.

Sure, I took Parker to a few places that I held close to my heart, and we laughed and smiled as I told him stories about why I held those places close to my heart, but all those places, all those stories only reminded me how I didn't know.

How I didn't know how sad she was.

How I didn't know how much she didn't want to be here.

How I didn't know that she was going to kill herself, leaving Parker and I alone to fend for ourselves in this cruel, harsh world.

I ran my hands down my face and dropped them in my lap, resting my head back on the bathroom door and staring at the small painting hanging above the toilet, purely for decoration.

There was only one more place I had to take him to.

A place I never wanted to go back to.

But I had to.

At least one more time.