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

Chapter 21

My eyes fluttered opened and I was blinded by the sunlight shining through the crack in between the curtains. I groaned and turned away from the window, my vision adjusting to accommodate the new lighting. As my surroundings faded into focus, I recognized that I was in my bedroom, in bed, and that lying beside me was Jane, sound asleep, her pink lips slightly parted and a little trickle of drool trailing down her cheek from the corner of her mouth. My lip curled upward into a smirk.

She was probably the only person who still cared about me, besides Pete that was, but she was the person Elisa wasn't anymore. Sure, I wasn't going to marry her, I wasn't going to have kids with her, and I'd never have the chance to grow old with her like I had with Elisa, but she wanted me and I wanted her.

I only wished I would've realized it sooner.

I wished I realized a lot of things sooner. Because if I had, I wouldn't be here right now, in this place, contemplating giving up my own life to save another. Hell, I wasn't even contemplating it anymore. I knew that was what I needed to do and I was going to do it.

I just...I wished it didn't have to end like this.

When I was a teenager, I didn't even think I was going to make it to twenty-five. I didn't think I even wanted to. But when I became a part of Fall Out Boy, became a boyfriend (eventually a husband), and became a father...that all changed. I wanted to live my life out as long as possible, fulfill my dreams and make sure that all my friends and family were happy. I wanted to die with a sense of satisfaction, completion almost, some reassurance that my life wasn't for nothing.

But that's exactly what my life was.

For nothing.

Sure, you could argue with me that that it wasn't for nothing. That my music had an influence on thousands of lives, but it didn't. It might've helped them through a rough time, but there was always someone else's music. There was always someone, something better out there that would eventually make them forget about me and my music and my influence on them.

In the grand scheme of things, my life was just as pointless as the next person's. And it was being cut short of its pathetic existence because of the repercussions I had to deal with something I'd done out of impulse. I wasn't thinking when I made that decision, to grab Pete's kitchen knife and sneak into Brendon's dressing room to stab him (what I'd hope would've been) to death.

Jane was right. I was angry, I was furious, and I just wanted to get my old life back.

But that wasn't going to happen.

I heaved a sigh and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and rising to my feet. I glanced back over my shoulder to make sure that Jane hadn't woken up. Naturally, she stirred a little, but she kept her eyes closed, turning on her other side for more comfort. I stood there for a second or two before quickly and agilely swooping back into bed and placing a gentle kiss on her head. One last goodbye, one last "I love you" before I left with no intent of returning.

I closed my eyes shut and painfully pulled away, turning on my heel and walking over the dresser, where I pulled out one of my nicer shirts and dress pants to change into, as well as a new change of underwear. I closed the drawer shut and left the bedroom, escaping to the bathroom. I tossed the clothes down on the closed toilet seat and positioned myself in front of the mirror.

I meant it when I said that I hated the man staring back at me. He was despicable. He was horrible. And most importantly, he wasn't me.

But in all fairness, I hadn't been me for a while. After I was arrested, and after I was incarcerated, I never was the same man that countless people had fallen in love with over the years.

Because during that time, I'd become desensitized to the world and its inhabitants. While in that little cell I was locked in day and night, I'd somehow, for whatever reason, trained myself to believe that once I'd get out, everything would go back to normal. So when I was released back into the "real world", and things didn't go back to normal, I didn't know what to do. I didn't recognize a single face, a single place...it all was so different. And because I'd embedded this idea into my mind that nothing would've changed, I couldn't accept that everyone had kept living without me. I just couldn't.

But now that I had, it was too late.

I turned away from the mirror and picked up my shirt, my pants, and my underwear, slipping into them. I grabbed the hairbrush out of the medicine cabinet and quickly ran it through my messy hair, as well as doing a quick swish of mouthwash instead of taking time to brush my teeth. I didn't have time to brush my teeth.

I straightened the front of my button-down dress shirt and took one last look in the mirror, before exiting the small room and making my way into the front room, where I snatched up my keys and pocketed them. I made my way over to the door and grasped the doorknob.

"You're leaving."

I gazed back and saw Jane standing in the threshold that separated the living room from the bedroom hallway. She was dressed only in her underwear and bra, her thin, scarred body trembling ever so slightly.

"Jane, I-"

"I know," She interrupted me, crossing her arms over her chest and taking a step forward, "I just...I  know the system, Patrick, and I could try-"

"I don't want you to try," I took my turn to interrupt, "I need to get what I deserve. Whether you think so or not."

"But Patrick!"

"But nothing, Jane. I'm going to come forward and I'm going to clear this all up. I'm going to tell them the truth, what really happened, and I'm going to save my best friend from making the biggest mistake of his life. End of story."