The Problem with Patrick || Fall Out Boy

i know this hurts, it was meant to

When Patrick woke up, it had been 3 weeks after he'd fallen asleep. Patrick was known to sleep in past midday, but this was a new record.

Obviously waking up wasn't as simple as Patrick opening his eyes and having a joke about sleeping in too much. It was strange. Patrick didn't really understand what was going on at first. He was stuck in this half-awake type mentality, and he was tired, god he was tired. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep.

He recognised Pete at first, who screamed and shouted and leapt around, and Patrick thought that was a little bit weird and he didn't really understand. Then he realised that maybe the Pete he could see wasn't his real friend Pete, maybe it was some other Pete who was hanging around. Then he heard a lot of beeping and realised that it must've been the fire alarm going off, so he started screaming and told Pete to cut him free of everything and that they needed to get out because the building was burning down. He couldn't understand why Pete wouldn't do it, or why this Pete wasn't getting out of the building himself. He couldn't smell the smoke, or see the smoke, but there was this alarm so obviously something was wrong?

Pete wasn't sure what was going on either. His friend was just lying in his bed comatose one minute, then eyes open the next and screaming about some sort of fire. Pete was so confused, there was no alarm going off, only the heart rate monitor and some other monitors as well. In alarm he called a doctor, but Patrick grabbed his arm and told him that this was part of some sort of plan; and the aliens were trying to burn down the hospital so that he would die.

It all made sense when the doctor explained that having some delusions after waking up from a coma was normal, and it wouldn't be long until Patrick adjusted to being awake and returned to himself. That did take a huge relief off his shoulders, and Pete thanked the doctor profusely before entering the room again.

Patrick was quiet now, he just staring at his hand and the heart rate monitor clipped to his finger. He was flicking his finger back and forth, feeling the weight of the device weighing his hand down unnaturally.

"Hey, buddy..." Pete approached the bed, still feeling hesitant about whether this was his friend, or whether this was his friend having delusions.

"Pete." Patrick stated, studying his friend's face. "You're not wearing any eyeliner today."

"Yeah, that's right." Pete chuckled softly and sat down beside his friend, before taking Patrick's hand. "You've had a long sleep. Do you remember what happened?"

"Did I miss lunch?" Patrick asked, his face falling. "I heard there was a pie for lunch today! I didn't want to miss that!"

"No, no, you haven't missed lunch, buddy." Pete checked his watch. "It's only 10:30 in the morning, and I'll get you a pie if you want one. You had a much longer sleep than that."

Patrick seemed confused. "Did I go to bed early?"

"No, no, you were in a coma for a couple of weeks."

"Huh."

"Yeah." Pete gently tapped the heart rate monitor. "That's why there's this on your finger, and all these other tubes here in your arm. You had a really long sleep."

"Oh." Patrick touched the heart rate monitor with his other hand. "That's weird. I'm still tired though. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Maybe just stay awake a little longer buddy." Pete tried to smile, and hide his fear that Patrick would go straight back into his coma if he closed his eyes again. "After all, I'm gonna get you that pie for lunch, right?"

"Right." Patrick seemed confused, and furrowed his brows before wincing. "My face hurts, Pete."

Patrick's face was still very bruised. It was nowhere near as swollen and purple as when he came in, but the scabs and redness gave the impression that it would hurt a hell of a lot to move at all. Pete winced slightly, but nodded. "Yeah, you hurt it a little bit."

"How did I do that?"

Pete didn't really know how to explain it, so he went with a simple solution. "You went splat."

"Splat?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"Mmmmm."

"Did I break anything else, when I went splat?" Patrick asked, fiddling with his heart rate monitor again.

"I mean, your leg." Pete gestured to the cast. "And your ribs are a little hurt too, and your head, aaaaaand..." Pete trailed off, trying to remember everything. God, there was quite a lot. "And then I think you had a really bad concussion, and there was something about your teeth? I think you chipped a tooth. Aaand um.... Yeah, it was a bad fall."

Patrick had tuned out, and was staring at his casted leg. "It feels weird, Pete."

"Yeah, that's because you broke it in 3 places, and shattered your ankle."

"Can you take it down?" Patrick tried to sit up to do it himself, but let out a cry of pain and quickly laid back down. "A-Ah..."

"Do you want me to ask the doctors if they can?" Pete asked nervously.

"Just t-take it out of the sling, p-please." Patrick begged.

And Pete, still racked with guilt, did as asked. He only drew the line when Patrick tried to get out of bed.

"Woah, woah, nope, not happening 'Trick." Pete gently pushed his shoulder's back to their spot on the bed. "Not yet, at least. Not until the doctor says."

"I wanna go home."

"Not right now. You gotta wait until you get approval from the hospital."

"Am I in the hospital?"

There was a moment of silence, before Pete nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah. You've been here for 3 weeks while you were sleeping, remember?"

"Right...." Patrick murmured, slumping back onto the pillows. "Okay... after I went splat."

Pete laughed, and nodded. "Yeah, after you went splat."

"Okay, that makes sense..." He murmured. "What do the doctors say?"

"They're glad you woke up after your sleep. So am I." Pete smiled and gently brushed some hair out of Patrick's eyes, before he was hit with a sudden wave of realisation. "Do you want your glasses?"

"Do I have glasses? The thought baffled Patrick for a moment.

"Yeah."

"Oh, then, yeah?"

Pete reached into his pocket and grabbed the frames, polishing both the lenses with his t-shirt before passing them over. Patrick put them on and blinked a few times before smiling, revealing a couple of chipped teeth. But it was a smile, and Pete smiled back. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome. You'll never be without them again."