Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 36

        Pete wasn't back until 40 minutes before the show in Vegas. We'd gotten a replacement bassist and everything, had fully expected him not to return. Gabe, Andy, Joe, the replacement bassist, Glen I think he said his name was, and I were sitting backstage, waiting until they were finished setting up the stage for us when one of the security guards from the venue came in.

        "Look, dude, I'm really sorry about all this," Gabe told me, completely sincere. The five of us - mainly just Gabe and I - had been talking about the situation, Saporta never missing a chance to apologize.

        I'm not mad at him, couldn't be because it wasn't all his fault. I blame myself for most of it, for being a drunken idiot, really.

        "So am I," I told him, the words more of a sigh than anything. "I just don't know what we're supposed to do about it now."

        In came a burly security guy, arms thicker than my thighs, the t-shirt displaying the venue's name stretched tightly over his chest. He looked mean, like he could snap me in half without breaking a sweat if he wanted.

        "We've got a guy claiming to be a member of your band here trying to get in. Pete Wentz I think he said his name is," he said, the name seeming foreign on his tongue. All eyes turned to me and time seemed to stop a moment.

        Holy shit.

        I stood up quickly, my mind going a million miles a minute. Holy fucking shit. He's back.

        "Take me to him," I told the security guard who seemed surprised by my urgentness. "Please."

        He turned and started off down a hallway so I followed him, my heart beating wildly as if it were trying to jump straight out of my chest. He had really come back, hopefully unscathed, and definitely alive. God, I couldn't have been happier.

        We turned the last corner and he opened a door for me, leading to the fenced-in area just outside the venue where all the tour buses and such are. The guy pointed to another security guard who just so happened to be restraining a short, dark haired man with two-day-old and now barely-there eyeliner smudged around his eyes.

        Pete.

        I ran over to him just like in all the movies, the security guard releasing him when he realized Pete was actually allowed to be here. Before he could push me away or say something to the contrary, I wrapped my arms around him in a bone crushing hug. My happiness was indescribable and overwhelming. His hands wrapped around me too and, for a moment, it didn't matter that I'd cheated, didn't matter that anything had happened between Gabe and I, because Pete had returned and he was okay and he was hugging me back.

        "Patrick, bud, I can't breathe," he choked out after a moment, a little breathless and trying not to laugh at my enthusiasm that seemed to be crushing him. He didn't seem angry at all then, and I couldn't have been happier, but I let go, stumbling back a few feet and looking up at him with a smile I couldn't restrain if I tried.

        "You're back," I said without really realizing it, gazing up at him as if he'd just descended from heaven before my very own eyes. Or, knowing Pete, ascended from Hell where he'd kicked Satan off the thrown and crowned himself.

        "Yeah, yeah I am. Just in time for the show, I hope?" he said, his voice raising a bit in pitch at the end as if it were a question.

        I nodded, still smiling as if he wasn't going to be mad at me once more in a little while, probably after the show. He looked like hell and I didn't even know if he'd still be able to perform despite coming back in time, but he seemed like he wanted to which didn't surprise me. I knew he wouldn't miss a show. Hell, half the fans came just because of him, not to mention the fact that I didn't know how to even really be a proper frontman; we couldn't do a show without him and he knew it so he came back. He didn't return to make me feel better, because I'd called and begged him, but he was back and none of that mattered for a little while.