Youngbloods of the World, Stand Up and Fight

The Hat Left Behind

The entirety of that night was spent tossing and turning on the bunk of the bus. Patrick's dreams were filled with nothing but the absolute worst scenarios, when it came to what was happening to Hope at that moment. The ear-piercing scream she let out when that woman grabbed her. And the sound of her desperately calling out his name, begging for his help.

But he failed.

In every aspect of the statement. He failed to save her. Failed to get the briefcase somewhere safe. And not only that, but he'd managed to get another kid swept up in this mess.

After about the fourth nightmare in a row, Patrick woke up in cold sweat. It took him a few minutes to confirm with himself that what he'd just seen was in fact a dream, and not reality. Once he was absolutely certain it wasn't, he sighed and laid back again, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know what to do. Even though he knew their best bet was to get more help, he hated the idea of involving more people. One thing he couldn't stand, was seeing people get hurt. And that seemed to be happening a lot lately.

All of that aside though, he had to make it up to her. Somehow. That, was not even a question. Just rescuing her wasn't going to cut it. Once they got her back, she was going right under his protective care. If it killed him, he'd protect her. It was the least he could do after being a coward and screwing up. Not to mention that she saved him from going through a crap ton of pain. He owed her one.

In the hours that he just laid awake, unable to go to sleep, he tried to figure out how exactly he'd apologize to her once he finally got her back. Knowing himself, he'd probably just burst into tears, but that was something he'd deal with when the time came.

~~~

Time slipped away fast. They rarely ever stopped at all on the road and if they did, it was to grab food or something like that.

After a few short days, they had finally arrived in Florida.

The entire morning, Patrick sat at the table in the bus trying to calm himself down.

You need her help... this is for the band... for Youngbloods everywhere...

"Come on, 'Trick! We're here!" Pete called as the rest of them jumped out of the van.

He sighed, standing up and slowly following them out of the bus. The neighborhood that Rina Callaway lived in was nice enough. Typical suburbia though, nothing really special.

"Who's going up there?" Joe asked, crossing his arms.

"Not it," Andy quickly said, his eyes widening.

"Well, I'm not going up there either."

"Neither am I."

Patrick looked up, his eyes slightly wide as he realized that everyone was looking at him. Shaking his head, he put his hands up and out in front of him. "Nuh-uh. Nope. I'm not going to do it."

"Well, none of us are gonna do it either."

"What about Carlee?"

Pete gave his best friend a look, crossing his arms. "Pat. Just go up there. Just do it. It's not that hard. You just did it earlier this week."

"Yeah and look where it got us."

"Shut up, Patrick. Go up there and get it over with."

Letting out a short sigh of frustration, Patrick gave in and started walking up the driveway with his hands in his pockets. It shouldn't be too terribly difficult. Pete was right. He'd just done this a couple days ago...