The World's Not Waiting For You (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)

Chapter 13

Saint was right - I didn't have really anything to do. There was nothing going on in my life besides taking care of Pete's boys and working on getting my life back together, though I wasn't making any progress on it...and it didn't look like I was going to make any progress anytime soon if I couldn't even talk to Elisa without her running away from me.

So to kill some time before I had to pick up the boys, I decided to stop by the prison and see Jane.

"Patrick!" She exclaimed excitedly when she saw me. "What are you doing here?" She asked as she walked out from the room protected by a bullet-proof glass window, giving me a quick hug.

"I don't know, I had some free time and I thought I'd stop by." We stepped out of the embrace. "Plus we haven't talked in a while."

"Yeah! How long has it been since we met up?" She put her hands on her hips. "A couple weeks?"

"Three weeks and four days," I corrected her, failing to not sound like a complete creep.

"Right. Time flies by really quickly when you're here," She remarked, looking around.

"Tell me about it, it flies even quicker when you're in a cell. Well...sometimes. Sometimes seconds seem like minutes and minutes seem like hours," I chuckled nervously.

She didn't laugh at my dry humor.

I scratched behind my head, noticing Jane's coworkers staring at me oddly. I bet it wasn't every day they saw an ex-convict come back here to visit. I mean, who in their right mind would? This place was pure hell. But as long as I didn't have to go back into one of those six by eight, painted-white brick rooms, I was good.

She cleared her throat and inquired, "So, how's getting your life back in order going?"

"Um, I actually saw Elisa today." I slipped my hands into my pockets.

She gasped, "No way."

"Way," I laughed.

"What happened?" Jane demanded to know, leaning against the wall and smiling at me, as if what I had to say was going to be the highlight of her day.

I looked at the people still staring at me and then returned my attention to Jane, "Do you think we can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"I would, but I already took my break today. Another break and the boss will write me up."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, Patrick. Maybe another time?"

"How about you come over for dinner tonight?" I suggested, taking Pete's advice into consideration and actually doing something with it.

"Dinner? Tonight?" She repeated. I nodded my head yes. She shrugged her shoulders, "Sure. I'll just tell Chris I'm seeing a friend. You know, if he finds out I'm going to have dinner with an ex-convict..."

"He'll flip a shit," I finished her sentence with a lighthearted laugh.

"Right," She smiled. "Well, I guess I'll see you tonight, then. Same place you took me to before? Your friend's place?"

"Yeah, my friend's place," I answered.

She nodded her head, "Cool. Let's hope I can find my way."

*****

I was standing in the kitchen, searching through Pete's kitchen cabinets for something to make Jane for dinner. Bronx and Saint sat behind me at the counter, Saint preoccupied with the strings on his sweatshirt and Bronx glaring at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You know we can just order a pizza or something," Bronx told me, "We have the pizza guy on speed dial."

"Yeah, but I don't want pizza," I responded, closing the cabinets and heaving a sigh, "Plus, pizza's not really a 'date' food."

"'Date' food?" He repeated before gasping, "Wait, you invited a girl over? To my dad's house? Without asking for his permission?" Before I could answer any one of his three spit-fire questions, he screamed childishly, "I'm telling!"

"Bronx! No!" I exclaimed as he jumped down from the stool he was sitting in and running over to the phone. Just as I was about to grab the phone from out of his hold, the doorbell rang. Both Bronx and I froze in our places, looking out at the front door.

"Well are you going to get it or what?" Bronx questioned. I stuck my tongue out at him before going to answer the door. I opened it and there Jane was. She smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi, come on in!" I greeted, stepping to the side. Jane stepped through the threshold and I closed the door behind her. Bronx entered the foyer.

"Who's this?" She asked, pointing to Bronx.

"Oh, that's Bronx. Pete's oldest kid."

"Do you like pizza?" Bronx questioned her.

Jane laughed, "Yeah. Who doesn't?"

Bronx looked over at me with eyebrows raised, "See, Patrick? She likes pizza. We should get pizza," Bronx urged. I rolled my eyes.

Jane giggled and looked back at me, saying, "He's cute. Almost as cute as his brother."

"Hey. I think I beat my brother in cuteness by a long shot. I've been cuter longer."

Jane laughed.

"Let's go sit down in the kitchen," I suggested, guiding her into the kitchen where Saint still was sitting, a curious look on his face. I walked over to the phone and picked it up, asking Bronx what speed-dial number the pizza guy was.

*****

Jane and I were sitting at the dining room table, empty plates and glasses (as well as Saint's plastic sippy cup) scattered about the table. Bronx and Saint retreated to the living room to watch the new Teen Titans Go! episode, leaving Jane and me alone to talk.

"So," Jane placed her head in her left hand and looked over at me, "You saw Elisa today, right?"

My eyes widened as I remembered the reason I invited her here in the first place. "Yeah. Yeah...I saw her when I was dropping Saint off at pre-school. He and my son are in the same class."

"So what happened when you saw her?" She inquired, picking up the bottle of whiskey I had brought out once the kids left the table and pouring herself and me another glass.

I told her all about it - from me bumping into her, to me asking her if she thought about it, to her running away from me, saying she was sorry.

"I would feel bad too," Jane commented, taking a sip the whiskey, "I mean, what'd she do, again? Divorce you so she could marry the guy who took your place in your band while you were gone?" I nodded my head. "That's just not cool."

I chuckled, "Tell me about it."

"You know, I don't believe you murdered that girl, Patrick," She blurted out, meeting my gaze with her beautiful brown eyes. "I mean, when you talked to me all those times, telling me all those stories about things that you did before you were arrested, about the life you used to live...you murdering someone just doesn't seem like part of your character. It doesn't seem like something you would do."

I blushed, "Thanks, Jane. I just wished more people were like you."

"What happened anyways?" She moved closer to me, "I only heard so much, and you refused to tell me anything about it while you were locked up, so...what really happened, Patrick?"