Light My Way Back Home •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Eleven: This Broken, Beautiful Mess I've Made

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

It's hard to breathe. It's hard to breathe because there's a knife sticking out of me, and there's thick and dark blood coming out of my mouth. I gasp for air like a fish out of water, my lips parting continuously as I try to pull in as much air as I possibly can. I can't feel the pain that the stab wound has inflicted upon me, and I am literally clueless when it comes to figuring out if it's a good thing. But I'm alive, I think, whereas Doctor Katherine wasn't awarded that kind of luxury.

"Oh my God, she's alive." Someone is kneeling over me, hair tickling my neck as they listen for my shallow breathing. I try to make my intakes of air more elaborate, which isn't hard because it's laboured enough. Their fingers are smooth and their hand is moisturized as they press two fingers to my neck lightly, feeling for a pulse. The person is surprisingly calm in contrast to the people screaming and running around. Security is shouting commands at each other through their walkie talkies and securing the premises, trying to find Derek, meanwhile civilians are panicking and crying and just overall being terrible. "Did you call 911?"

"Yes," I hear the secretary say, her thin voice drifting and wavering with fear. I almost feel sympathetic. "I contacted her fiancé, as well. Her name is Colby Wentz."

"Colby, Colby," the person is saying to me, my name rolling off their tongue with the newfound knowledge, and I feel pressure being applied around the knife in me. "I need you to keep kicking for me, okay?" Their voice is smooth and calming, drawing me in and I almost think about that anesthesiologist from the last time I was in the hospital for an injury(about three years ago- child labour doesn't count).

"P-p-patr-tri-" I try to speak, asking for my soon-to-be-husband, but the blood is overwhelming me and choking me. All I can do is try to focus my breathing.

"Sh, hey, calm down, sweetheart. Patrick is coming, okay?" The secretary is saying in the calmest voice she can muster. But it isn't any consolation because everyone else is freaking out over either me being stabbed or Doctor Katherine being the next victim of Derek Skinner.

"Need h-him-m-m." I gasp out, but she just nods and brushes my bangs back, trying to calm me down and keep me focusing on breathing.

"Don't worry, honey, he's on his way right now. He'll be here in a few minutes." The secretary is saying, and I freaking swear, response times to emergencies are so fu cking slow.

"N-n-, I- c-c-c-can't b-b-br-b-breath-th-h-the." I gasp out, my body convulsing in short bursts of shakes. My eyes slip open slightly, but I can barely see properly because they're clouding over with tears.

"Shh, honey, listen." I hear the sounds of sirens wailing in the distance. The ambulance is almost here. "Everything will be okay."

"Judging from the handle, this seems to be a small pocket knife." Somebody else is saying. "It shouldn't be life threatening, unless the f ucking medics decide to make a third stop for donuts on their way here."

"Where is she?" I hear him call out worriedly, his voice shaking the slightest bit from down the hall. My eyes avert from the young secretary to the door. Patrick bursts in, his stupid fedora unbalanced on his messy hair, his cheeks red, and his eyes watery. He's in the same outfit from an hour earlier- the navy cardigan I borrow so often from him, the twenty one pilots shirt I always take from him, his black skinny jeans, and those stupid sneakers he always wears because they're practical(y'know, the velcro ones). "Cole."

||Patrick Stump|| First Person||

"But really-" Pete is saying, picking at his lemon hair. Pete's been dying his hair back and forth between blonde, purple, pink, etc for the last three years. He looks like a cotton candy man, next to Josh Dun of course. "I think that all of those meetings to her therapist aren't helping."