Petekey Oneshots

roman holiday (part 2 of drive)

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Pete awoke to the sounds of beeping and hushed voices. His whole body ached. He let out a soft groan and clutched the sheets covering him. The voices stopped and he felt all the eyes in the room on him.

"Pete?" A small voice asked.

Patrick.

"Pete are you awake?" This voice was closer.

Andy.

"He's definitely awake. Pete, could you say something?"

Joe.

"Shut up I'm trying to sleep." Pete mumbled and tried to lift his arm to his head. But he couldn't, it was too heavy. "What the fuck is on my arm?" He asked, finally opening his eyes.

Everyone in the room looked disheveled and tired. They all laughed at Pete.

"Dude, you broke your arm. Its a cast" Joe said, laughing.

It all a came back to him. The road trip. The almost kiss. The crash. And- oh fuck, Mikey.

"Fuck," was all that could come out of Pete's mouth. He tried to sit up to get better look at his friends but he found that hard to do with his cast. He flopped back down onto his pillow.

"Mikey," was the next thing that made it out of his mouth.

The others faces fell.

"Mikey?" Pete sounded like a wounded puppy.

Patrick stepped closer and looked at his feet.

"What happened to Mikey? Is he alright?" Pete's voice rose slightly.

"He— uh woke up yesterday and doesn't remember much of anything."

Pete closed his eyes and tried to process this information.

"He doesn't remember anything?" Pete questioned, going back to his "wounded puppy" voice.

Patrick nodded and Andy chimed in with "He can only remember Gerard and his parents."

Pete groaned loudly and the door to room opened.

"Hello Mr. Wentz, I'm Dr. Blackinton," a man with light brown hair that went down to just above his shoulders said, focusing on his clip board. "Glad to see you're awake."

Pete gave a weak smile and stared at the ceiling.

"We're just going to run some quick tests make sure your alright and then you'll be able to go home when we get the results!"

Pete nodded again, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.

----

"His rooms just down the hall," Patrick said, "room 108."

Pete hummed in response and started hobbling down the hall. His whole body ached but that didn't matter. He had to see Mikey.

He finally made it to 108 and gingerly opened the door. What he saw inside made his heartbreak.

There he was, Mikey, laying in the bed, hooked up to a bunch of machines and barely moving. The sound of the door opening made him open his eyes and look in his direction. At this moment Gerard popped out nowhere, startling Pete only a little bit.

"You made a quick recovery," he said in a hushed voice

Pete only nodded, his throat had gone dry. He couldn't tear his eyes off the unmoving form in the bed

Gerard noticed where Pete's attention was. "Tried talking to him about you, no luck."

Pete nodded once again. Gerard moved out of his way and let Pete get closer to Mikey. He disappeared out of the room in search of coffee.