Anything You Say (Peterick)

(4) Heaven Knows We Belong Way Down Below

A/N: This is like the third update in 7 days but I'm really bored and this is semi-entertaining, so...here's the fourth chapter. As promised, Pete is making his appearance, like, soon. Really soon. Hint hint. -Mal

"Patrick. The Director needs to talk to you. Sounded pretty important," Hayley said as she gave me a cold look.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," I frowned slightly, but let her rude attitude pass.

Joe, on the other hand, had other ideas, "Yeah, and next time, try not to be such a bitch,"

"Dude!" I hissed, smacking his arm. Hayley sniffed indignantly and stomped away. "You're gonna get me shot. Again."

He just smirked, "Director Armstrong needs to talk to you again? What'd he say yesterday?"

I stared at him, desperately trying to think of some lie, "Um, nothing. I just...need to agree to my next mission," Not a lie, but also not the whole truth.

To my surprise, he seemed to believe me, "Oh, well you best get going then. We all know his patience is thin." I nodded, smiled, and quickly made my way towards the Director's office.

Too close.

Again, I knocked hesitantly. "Unless you're Stump, you'd better leave in the next second before I shoot you," Director Armstrong growled.

"I-It's me, sir," I coughed, taking an unintentional step back.

"Yes or no, Stump?"

Confused, I frowned. Yes or no what? "Oh! Ye-Yes, sir."

Suddenly, the door opened, making me stumble backwards. Glancing around uneasily,  he shoved a small tan folder in my hands. "Go. Now. You have the day off, full pay, whatever. Take this home, read it, memorize it, burn it. Tell no one what happened. In fact, you never got this. Complete confidence. Is this clear, Stump?" Stunned, I simply nodded. Billie relaxed a fraction of an inch. "Now, Patrick," he said forcefully. I nodded once again, clutched the file to my chest, and fled out the doors.

Once in the parking lot, I remembered Joe had given me a ride that morning. "Shit!" I mumbled, briefly thinking of going back inside and asking Joe for a ride. I quickly voted against it, however. He would ask too many questions that I couldn't answer, even if I was allowed to.

I stared dejectedly at the street, silently willing a taxi to appear. Though nothing popped into existence, a car did pull in front of me, "Hey," a man greeted, "need a ride?"

Even though that was exactly what I wanted, I hesitated. A random guy I didn't know, out of nowhere asking if I needed a ride? Well, not exactly a social norm. But then again, I was desperate.

"Sure, thanks," I smiled hesitantly.

The man grinned back, "No problem. Hop on in." He was pretty attractive, with dark hair and vivid brown eyes. I immediately felt comfortable.

"Peter," he said out of nowhere.

I stared, "Excuse me?"

He laughed, "I said, my name is Peter. But you can call me Pete."

His laugh was amazing. It was so happy and young, like he hadn't a care in the world. At the same time, however, it was oddly familiar. Peter. I used to know someone named Peter...

"Patrick," I replied, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

Peter nodded, "That fits you. So, Patrick, if you don't mind me asking, why are you hitchhiking on the side of the road at 7:00 am?"

"Actually," I started, "I have no idea,"

He smirked, "'I have no idea' as in 'I can't come up with a convenient lie as to why I'm out here with a suspicious looking folder?'"

Instantly, my guard was up. That was too close to the truth for my liking, "Something like that," I mumbled, giving him a sideways glance.

"Listen, I'm not here to shoot you and take that oh-so-special file or something. I just wanted to be here when you read it. Call it a...a personal investment," he chuckled.

Again, I stared at him. This was very, very, dangerous. Obviously, he was some type of secret intelligence. FBI, maybe. Those guys are always messing with us. But at the same time, Pete didn't strike me as an agent of the American government. If anything, I'd say he was against anything and anyone with power.

"How about this," he said, a small smile playing across his lips, "I'll let you leave once you read the name of the man in that file. Simple enough for you?"

I glared at him, "Crystal." I sent a quick telepathic apology to Director Armstrong as I slowly opened the file. Immediately, my eyes drifted to very first line on the page. Wentz, Peter Lewis Kingston III.

"Peter Wentz..." I tried to say, but my mind quickly pulled it back. Suddenly, everything fell into place. This man Pete, the boy I once knew, the wanted criminal, they all had something in common.

They were the same man.

A/N: Are you guys totally intrigued yet? Is this one longer than the others? It seems longer but that might just be because I'm the one writing it. Anyways, I don't like it. Pete wasn't even supposed to be here yet, but my brain was just like "hey, lets get Pete here right now" and then...there he was. I really don't like this chapter, or the next one, to be honest. Ehh, too late now. I hope you guys like it at least! -Mal

Chapter Title: Heaven Knows- The Pretty Reckless

PS: Sorry for the weird spacing. Wattpad is a little fucked apparently.