aware (peterick)

21

"Shit..." It's too bright. Everything hurts. My fucking head fucking hurts. Blood. All I can taste is blood. I try sitting up. It fucking hurts, but I manage. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand, gently, because that fucking hurts, too. Blood, but it's dry. Blood, everywhere. On my clothes, in my hair, on my floor, the cupboard doors... They could have at least had the decency to shut the fucking front door. "Urgh," I groan. My head is fucking throbbing. "Fuck me... "

I feel drunk. I want to go to bed.

But I can't, because Patrick isn't here.

Patrick isn't here.

Shit.

Coat, shoes, car keys... phone. Brendon.

Patrick.

"Pete?"

"Brendon, I need you to get to the VCA detainment ward. Bring... no, fuck it, don't bring anything, just come, please."

"Why, what's happened? Pete, is everything alright?"

I sob. I stumble. I'm pathetic. "They took Patrick."

"What? What do you mean? What happened?"

"They took him, Brendon," I cry. "It hurts, I can't... fucking hurts."

"Don't go anywhere. I'm coming to pick you up. We'll go together."

"Please, hurry..."

"Hold on, Pete."

I'm blacking out. Fucking bitch. Please, God, I'm sorry I never believed in you, but I need you now more than ever. Make it go away. Tell me this is all just a stupid dream, and I'm going to wake up and Patrick is going to be ok...

"Pete? You still with me, buddy?"

No. "Brendon."

"Yeah?"

Fuck. "They're going to kill him."