abused (peterick)

five

patrick and pete kind of hit rock bottom again, but pete realises that patrick has a nice ass, too.

ps sucky chapter.

I'm walking through a field of flowers, and they're all so pretty. I pick one up and sniff it. It has no smell.

When I open my eyes, the flower is covered in hot, sticky blood. I look down, and so are the flowers I'm standing around.

"Hello?" I yell. Someone pushes me to the ground, and I scream. I notice that I'm bleeding from my stomach.

"Shut the fuck up," They say, putting a hand over my mouth. "You're such a whiney bitch," My eyes water at the insult, but I blink the tears away.

I finally look up, and the person that's holding onto me by my hair and covering my mouth is.. Patrick.

I jolt upright, sweating. Patrick's staring at me, knelt next to my bed. I crawl to the other side, my eyes closed.

"I'm-I'm sorry! I won't do it again, Patrick, please don't hurt me!" I yell. His eyes widen, and he backs up until he falls straight onto his ass.

"Pete, I-I'd never.." He trials off, running a hand through his bed-head hair. "Look, I'm sure we can work something out if you-"

I cut him off by screaming, "Don't touch me!" as loud as I can. His hand stops it's migratory path towards my shoulder. Like something suddenly triggers him to do so, he digs his phone out of his pocket and hits speed dial number three.

Seconds later, Halsey comes running in, wearing pyjama pants and a sports bra, her short blue hair a mess. "Pete? Patrick? Is everything okay?" Patrick simply stands up and starts walking out of the room.

"I think you should stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the couch in the rec room," He says. He grabs a pillow and a blanket from his bed. Before he walks out, he turns back to me and says, "I'm sorry, Pete,"

When he's gone, Halsey sits on the edge of my bed. "Wanna talk about it?" I shake my head, and she sighs, nodding. "Alright, well, I think I'm going to talk to Patrick for a second. Will you be okay? Or would you like for me to get Josh to step in with you?"

I shake my head. I can't have another man in my room right now. "I'll be fine," I assure her. She nods and runs a hand through her hair before walking out. She leaves the door open and walks to the rec room.

I, being the nosy little fuck I am, tip-toe out to see what's being said. Patrick is crying in Halsey's arms, and she's trying to comfort him.

"I don't understand, Ash, I just want him to like me," He says. "And he thinks I want to kill him. It devastates me to see him afraid of me when I barely touch him or even when I just look at him,"

"It's okay, Patrick, he'll warm up to you," Halsey assures him. Patrick shakes his head.

"That's what I keep telling myself, but I thought he was. It feels like we just hit back to square one. I think I'm gonna call Andy up and see if he'll come stay for another few days," Patrick says, sniffling. Halsey just pats his back and helps him through it. "Take care of him for me tonight," He says, and Halsey nods.

When she starts walking this way, I sprint back to my bed. I lie on my side, facing the wall. I hear her lie down on Patrick's bed, and that's the last memory I can remember from last night.

--

Patrick comes back in early the next morning. I know because I don't sleep. My stomach feels uneasy, but he just goes in the bathroom. I hear the shower start up and sigh when it does.

I relax my muscles, which were tense when he came in. I look at the bed in front of my own, and Halsey is still dead to the world, oblivious that Patrick is taking a shower.

I must lose track of time because it feels like seconds later that he comes out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. Holy. Shit.

The guy scares me, hell yeah, but he's hot as fuck. He looks at Halsey and then at me, and I close my eyes before he sees they're open. When I open my eyes again, he's dropped his towel and is trying to get his boxers on.

My eyes widen, seriously, his ass is amazing. He finally gets them on, and I'm really disappointed. He pulls on a pair of pyjama pants next, but he doesn't put on a shirt.

He sighs and tries to dry his hair a little with the towel, but he doesn't really succeed. Once he finally gives up, he takes a seat on the couch and turns the TV on a very low volume.

There's a knock on the door, and it opens. Andy's at it. Patrick fakes a smile when he opens the door, and I hear them talking about me.

Andy's smile drops, and he walks closer to my bed. I quickly shut my eyes, and he lies down next to me.

"Pete, it's me," He whispers. He turns around to look at Patrick, who's still standing at the door, before saying, "I know you're awake,"

I sigh in defeat and open my eyes. "You caught me," I whisper back. He smiles at me and lies his head on my chest.

"What's going on between you and Patrick? Why'd I get a phone call at five thirty in the morning?" He asks. I shrug, my jaw clenching.

Once it unclenches, I say, "I had a dream that I got killed in last night. Patrick was the murderer," I explain. Andy's eyes widen. "And now I'm pretty sure he hates me,"

"Pete, he doesn't hate you, I can assure you that," Andy says quickly. My eyebrows furrow.

"What do you mean?" I ask. Andy shakes his head.

"Patrick'll tell you when he's ready," Is all Andy will say. "Also, he's really worried about you. He wants you and him to attend group therapy with the rest of the patients today,"

"I'm game, I guess," I say reluctantly. Andy smiles and lies down on me fully. "Get off of me, you're heavy," I whine.

"Sorry everyone can't be an oompah-loompah," Andy says, but he doesn't move. "Group therapy isn't for six hours. Sleep now," He says and yawns.

I roll my eyes, but I do drift off to sleep sometime later.