A Little Less Brutal Murder, A Little More Touch Me

I'm Not Passive But Aggressive

Patrick raced over to Joe and Andy, not noticing Joe flinch when he approached. He threw his arms around him. “Oh my god Joe, I am so sorry!” He wasn’t able to hold back the tears, and began to sob. He let go when he felt Joe tense. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Please forgive me!” He looked at him in anticipation, waiting for him to say something. Eventually, Joe stepped forward and hugged him. 

“It’s okay, Trick. I forgive you.” 

Patrick smiled and tried to wipe the tears mixing with the blood on his face, but his leather jacket just smeared them around. 
“How are you both alive? You were dead!”

Andy gestured towards Joe; Patrick raised an eyebrow in confusion. Joe spread his wings with a flourish. 

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, almost falling over backwards. 

Andy laughed. “You were right! Priceless reaction!”

As they walked to the mausoleum, Joe and Andy explained all that had happened and how they got there. It was probably on the less crazy side of all the shit they’d witnessed. 

Pete wasn’t able to sleep. How could he? The closest he’d gotten to sleep was closing his eyes and thinking. After an hour, he’d given up and decided to go check on Patrick. Pulling his jacket back on, and stepping out the door, he called out to him.
“The longer we stay here, the more likely they are to find us. We should get going.” 
He stopped in his tracks. 

“I don’t know where you’re going, but do you got room for one more troubled soul?”

“Andy?!”

Joe flew down from the top of the mausoleum, and landed in front of him. “Make that two!”

“You dramatic motherfucker!” Pete didn’t even question anything, he’d seen enough lately to know anything was possible, and he should probably just accept it. 

They were suddenly disrupted by loud music coming from behind them. The llamas Joe saw had caught up with them. The band saw Patrick’s eyes turning yellow and began to panic. Joe spread his wings, ready to defend them - he was not going to be killed again. Pete lunged at the one on the left who was holding the speaker. He was able to grab it, and while trying to turn it off, had to dodge Patrick swinging his hook at him. Andy picked up Pete’s bass blade and used it to defend himself against the llamas. Pete threw the speaker at the wall of the mausoleum, shattering it. When the music stopped, Patrick’s behaviour changed slightly. His eyes were still yellow, he still wasn’t fully in control, but he wasn’t attacking them anymore: he was charging at the llamas. He plunged his hook deep into one of their chests - blood pooling out and turning the costume from white to red. While Patrick was trying to dislodge his hook from its ribs, the other raised its shovel above his head. Andy swung the blade, decapitating the llama. When Patrick stood up again, Pete grabbed his jacket and practically launched himself at his mouth. When the yellow faded from his eyes, guilt began to take over him. He threw his arms over Pete’s shoulders, who placed a hand on the back of his head. 

“I killed them! And I tried to hurt you! I am so sorry!”

Pete tilted Patrick’s head up to face him. “Look at me, Trick,” Baby blues meeting his wide-eyed browns, “You don’t have to apologise for any of this. It’s not your fault, you’re not in control, and we all know it,” 

Patrick couldn’t believe it. How could Pete just forgive it all so fast? How could they all forgive him, when he couldn’t forgive himself? His thoughts must have been visible on his face, because Pete softly planted a kiss against his lips, relishing every second of it. However it didn’t last long, as they were rudely interrupted:

“I called it! I fucking called it!”

They pulled apart and glared at Joe, who had a smug smile plastered across his face. “You two finally admitted it, huh? About damn time, I thought you were gonna be pining forever!” 

A deep scarlet blush spread across their faces, and they stepped back from each other awkwardly.