The Only Drug I Want ( Patrick Stump / OC)

Better Off As Lovers

For once, Patrick was sober and able to get along with Katrina. Although, to be fair, it didn't take too much cooperation and thought to get all hot and heavy. The pair still were clothed (at least mostly,) but it was getting to a point where they wouldn't be much longer. It probably would've been quite nice to be able to sleep with your girlfriend, but it didn't always work out like that. For instance,at two a.m. when the doorbell rings. The doorbell doesn't just ring at two a.m. if it isn't important. 

"I have to go see who it." Patrick had his arms around Katrina, but slowly released her. "It could be something bad. I can't just leave it."

"But, Pat..." Katrina whimpered. "Aren't I important, baby? Don't I matter to you?" She had slowly moved her hands down to Patrick's pants, moving to undo his fly. 

"Katrina, stop." Patrick shook his head. He gently pushed Katrina away from him. "I'll be right back. Just let me check whose here. Chances are it's some stupid prank, but I want to make sure."

Katrina rolled her eyes, falling back onto the bed. "I wore my cute underwear for nothing." She crossed her arms, pouting. "You always do this, Patrick!"

Patrick stood up from the bed, re-buttoning his shirt, trying to look halfway presentable. He ran a hand through his hair, and turned back to Katrina. "It'll be two minutes, I promise. I'll be right back."

"Whatever." She had rolled over on to her side, more upset with Patrick than she should've been. 

"Fine." Patrick put his hands up and walked out of the room. He smiled to himself as soon as he was out, and carefully made his way downstairs. He had no idea who he was going to find at his door, but he was glad they were there, whoever they were. He had almost let Katrina make him think sex with her was a good idea. 

The doorbell rang again, and Patrick jumped over the last few steps of the staircase. He sprinted the rest of the way to the door, and opened it. His smile immediately faded. 

He saw a crumpled, dirty figure in front of him. One of a woman, one of a woman who had just escaped hell. She was facing away from him, but it didn't take much for him to recognize who it was. Hell, her hair had even bleached out, but he knew. He just knew who it was. 

"Ellie?" It wasn't meant to sound like a question, it was clear to him who the girl was. But he was in so much shock from her reappearance, he had to question it. "Ellie..."

The woman turned around, looking at Patrick. Her face was covered in cuts bruises, one particular cut on her cheek looked like it needed stitches. She looked like horror movie victim. Matted, dirty hair, tear and bloodstained cheeks, and a good amount of fear on her face. "Help me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Patrick's POV

"Come inside, just get in here, come on." I stood aside so she could enter, but I was afraid to touch her. "What happened to you? Who hurt you? Ellie, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? What can I help with? IS someone after you?" I couldn't stop the questions pouring from my mouth. I was too worried. 

Ellie looked into the house, peering into the doorway. The way the I'd moved the furniture in her absence seemed to confuse her, and she shook her head. She didn't seem to have heard much of my questions. "I don't... No. Not there."

I frowned, more worried than I had been. She was confused, she had to be. "But, sweetheart, it's cold out here. And I can't help you if you stay outside. Don't you want me to help you?"

She nodded, but then quickly shook her head the other way. "Not allowed inside."

"Ellie, you can come inside. You're allowed to come inside." I wasn't sure what to do to get Ellie inside the house, but I needed to try something. "Ellie, sweetheart, come inside so I can help you."