Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 35

        My eyes widened when I heard his voice, my heart skipping a beat. The last thing I expected him to do was answer my call. My plan had been to leave a voice mail that would've probably ended in me a sobbing mess, apologizing and begging for him to be okay, but I hadn't even thought about what I'd say if he picked up.

        "Pete?" I said, mimicking his tone without even realizing what I was doing. I didn't have a clue what to say, what to tell him now that I could actually speak to him.

        "What do you want?" he asked, his tone turning harsh and unforgiving, and once again, I wished I could take it all back, make it so nothing between Gabe and I on New Year's Eve had ever happened. If only life had an undo button, then I'd be pressing the shit out of it.

        I hesitated a moment before responding, not sure what to say. What do I want? I want for Pete to come back; I want for him to be safe; I want him to be mine again; I want what happened between Gabe and I to disappear; I want for us to be happy, but I couldn't say all that, not now.

        "I want to apologi-" I started, but he cut me off almost immediately.

        "You don't get to apologize," he told me, his voice unflinching and merciless, cold and even, like he had drained himself of all feeling, become numb so he didn't have to deal with the feelings of betrayal and anger probably coursing through him. "You cheated on me. There aren't enough I'm sorry's in the world to fix that so why don't you just shut up," he continued and this time, there was feeling, anger and resentment alongside pain, unbelievably raw pain that hurt me to hear. It was like I had just told him what I'd done all over again and his reaction cut through me like knives once more, maybe sharpened after last time because they almost seemed to hurt more.

        There aren't many things worse in this world than being cheated on, not many things that hurt more, and so that's naturally what stupid drunk me chose to do. It didn't matter that we hadn't actually slept together, didn't matter that we didn't make it all that far; I'd still done it and that's what counted. There aren't different degrees of cheating because they don't matter. If it happens, it happens and it hurts like hell no matter how it happens because it's a stab in the back from the the person one loves most in the world. I just happened to be holding the knife and the combination of the alcohol and a horny Gabe had helped me stick it in Pete's back without hesitation. Now I would do anything to make that wound of his go away entirely, preferably not even leaving a scar, but that wasn't going to happen because that's not how the world works, not how people are.

        "Pete, I didn't want to hurt you," I tried to tell him, but it didn't seem like he was really listening, hurt and anger clouding his mind. "I didn't want to hurt you," I repeated, whispering this time as I felt the familiar tears well up in my eyes. I knew I was going to cry, had seen it coming, but that didn't mean I welcomed it. As I felt the bus move beneath me, the first tear fell from my eye, running down my cheek and leaving a wet trail that I could feel.

        "I know," he whispered back, his mood having suddenly changed to a softer one, one of pure hurt and I thought I heard his voice crack, "but that doesn't make it hurt any less."

        "I can't tell you how much it wish it did," I said, my voice barely a breath. I was actually surprised he'd been able to hear me, my voice so soft I wasn't entirely sure the phone would pick it up.

        He sighed and I continued, my voice raising in volume and desperation, but remaining soft. "I just want you- us to be happy again, like we used to be," I told him, and I seemed to be begging at this point, more tears falling and my words slurring. "Remember when we were happy? We were so good together for a while. On Christmas we were perfect, you, me, Hemmingway, we were like a little family and we felt right together. I want us to be like that again. I want to be a family again, as unconventional as us and a dog were. God, Pete. I love you." It most definitely still wasn't the right time to be saying all this, but it just seemed to pour out of me, the words a rushing river that I couldn't stop. They flowed and would continue to flow until they caused damage, I was sure of it, because that's all I did.

        "I love you and I don't want to be away from you for any longer. Pete, please come back," I pleaded, and if I were doing this in person, I'd be down on my knees.

        "I still love you too," he told me in a barely audible whisper so low I wasn't entirely sure he'd said it. "But I'm still awfully mad. You cheated on me, Patrick. That's a big deal and it fucking hurts." His words were mad, but he didn't sound it. He was more defeated, tired, and that hurt more than the anger would, I thought. Maybe if he'd just yell at me, scream and curse, he'd feel better afterwards, but he seemed to the point where he wasn't even angry anymore, just sad, and that terrified me, made me think that he wouldn't ever come back to me. It's not like I deserved him, but I still held out hope.

        "At least let me know you haven't done something reckless," I asked- no, begged him. More than anything, I want him to be safe. Even if he was never mine again, I could live with myself as long as he is out of harm's way. He means more to me than myself and I will always put his safety, his needs, his wants before what I longed for. I would die for this damn boy and if I would have to remain friends with him instead of anything more, I could deal with it because I know I deserve it.

        "I'm safe, Patrick. I promise," he told me and I thought I heard a hint of a smile creeping up on his cheeks. Although he hates me right now, he was still glad I called to check on him, glad I was showing I still really did care about him despite my actions telling another story.

        "Good. Don't do something that would either hurt someone, /yourself included,/ or get you arrested," I told him because god am I worried about him. "Or worse: both."

        "Stop it, you'll give me ideas," he joked weakly, forcing out a tired laugh that wasn't entirely sincere. For a moment, it almost felt as though we were okay, but I couldn't fool myself into believing that. It just might destroy me if I did.

A/N: Kinda short chapter but I wanted to end it there, so