single dad's club (peterick/trohley/brallon/rikey/frerard)

08

// this story is v dramatic. also andy's accident took place monday, so let's call this wednesday.

also, it'll be explained later, but declan isn't patrick's real son in this. he isn't stupid enough to let them date if he was. that was just a heads up so no one thinks it was weird of patrick to let them do that.

"Mr. Wentz, fuck, you have to come now." Declan says as soon as I pick up the phone. My eyes snap open, and I jolt upwards in my bed. "It's Bronx. He fell of his skateboard and his his head, and he's bleeding."

"Keep talking to me, Declan." I say. I grab a shirt and slip on my shoes. After grabbing my keys, I run outside.

Declan lets out a choked sob as he tries to talk. "He's so good at skateboarding. He didn't see the little girl. He had to act fast to not hit her, so he went straight for the pole."

I punch the steering wheel hard when I realise I don't know where I'm going. "Declan, buddy, tell me where you are right now." I say. I guess Declan is trying to look at his surroundings.

"I see a café. Called Dall's. There's a guy running out. He says he wants to help." Declan says.

"Hand him the phone." I don't wait for him to say hello. "Help him, please. I'll be there in three minutes. Stop the bleeding."

I hang up after that, calling a 911 operator and explaining my story through tears. She tells me to calm down and that ambulances will be there shortly.

I finally find Declan and Bronx. I fall down next to my son, clutching his bleeding head in my hands. "I stopped the bleeding. Keep putting pressure on it."

"I can't fucking thank you enough." I say, and he smiles at me.

"Don't worry about it. Kid, you okay?" He asks, turning to Declan. Declan shakes his head, and then the guy has an armful of Declan. He responds quickly, letting his arms go around Declan.

The ambulance gets there next, and I ride with Bronx. I throw my keys to the guy. "Can you follow the ambulance? Bring Declan." And I'm gone.

Patrick isn't one of the doctors standing outside this time. When they see Declan come running up, clutching Bronx's hand, one of the interns is told to go get Doctor Stump.

They roll Bronx down a hallway, me, Declan, and the guy in tow. They stop when told, but I do not. Arms wrap around my waist, holding me in the air as I kick. "Let me see my fucking son!" I yell.

"Pete, calm down." Patrick whispers in my ear. I stop screaming, but I don't stop kicking. He sits me in a chair. The guy holds my arms down. "Pete, I know he's your fucking son, but the doctors can't get anything done with you breathing down their necks."

Patrick kneels down in front of my sitting form, grabbing my fist. "Is this your blood or Bronx's?" I don't answer. "Pete, is this your fucking blood, or is it Bronx's?"

"It's mine." I say, and then he's yelling for Smith to bring him a first aid kit. "I don't need help. My son could be fucking dying. Help him."

"Pete, they're doing all they can do. Let me take care of you. Bronx would want that." Patrick says, and I nod. He gets the dried blood off my fist and wraps my knuckles.

A doctor approaches us a little while later, and I'm lying in Patrick's lap, he's playing with my hair. "Mr. Wentz?" The guy asks, and I jump up. Patrick stands up too. "Bronx should be fine. We've done all we can do. It was good that he had this accident. It showed us something that might not have been curable if we hadn't have known."

"What do you mean?" I ask, crossing my arms. Patrick's face goes pale when he sees the doctor's face. "What the fuck's wrong?"

"He needs a blood marrow transplant." He says. My eyes widen.

"Take mine." I say immediately. The guy looks hesitant.

"We aren't sure if yours would match. It's ideal to have both parents here." The doctor says. My jaw clenches.

"I don't give a fuck. Test me. Tell me if I'm a match or not." The guy nods and takes me to a back room.

After running several tests, I'm asked to go back to the waiting room. I can't sit still. Pacing back and forth as Patrick's foot taps nervously. Declan is crying into the guy's shirt.

When the doctor gets back, he has a deep frown on his face. "Mr. Wentz, I regret to inform you that you do not have the same blood marrow as your son."

Before he can walk off, Patrick's grabbing his arm and spinning him around. "You said both parents should be here, right? I'm here. Check my fucking blood marrow type."

My eyes widen, my mouth dropping open. Declan's head snaps up. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I hiss. Patrick's eyes are bloodshot red.

"Pete." Is all he says. My lip begins to quiver, tears forming in my eyes.

"What the hell? You couldn't fucking tell me you were Bronx's father up until now? If my son wasn't dying, I'd beat your ass!" I say. Patrick just nods at everything I said.

"I understand, Pete. Let me do this for our son." He says. I slap him at that.

"Our son, my ass! You weren't there for him. You never were. You don't have the privledge to call him your son." I yell at him. The doctor interjects.

"Mr. Wentz, we really need to check Doctor Stump's blood marrow type." He says. I nod.

"Get that fucking idiot away from me." I say. Patrick walks off with the doctor and doesn't come back. I assume that he is a match.

Him being Bronx's father does explain a lot. Like how bold he was around me. And why he kissed me out of nowhere. I wish he would've told me about this before I fucking developed feelings for him.