A Scar Away from Falling Apart • FOB/Young Blood Chronicles/Patrick Stump

part one

A/N: hey guys! i had loads of fun writing this little ybc fan fiction and i hope you all enjoy it! here's the introductory chapter :)

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Pain.

It erupted from her forearm, filled her pounding head, pumped through her veins. It was the only thing she knew since coming there. It was the only thing she would know until she gave into their fights and kicks. They wanted to obliviate her of the morals she once held dear, making her one of them.

They had yet to do so. But they refused to give up. They would maul her until she agreed to 'silence the noise' and join their sick, sick cult.

The sudden sound of a slamming door and the clicking of a lock had the girl curling into a fetal position. Through her eyelids, the faint light that once filtered through vanished as if it had never been there. She was alone. Alone to think about what she had done, what she believed, what would become of her if she didn't give in soon. The only thing good about being alone was that she could be herself. Be her weak, damaged little self. She could cry, let her emotions out. Rest her wounds, sleep. Oh, how she loved sleep. It was the closest thing to death that she could have.

But, she wasn't alone.

"H-hello?"

Her breathing quickened, and she let out a sniffle. Her eyes opened. Was someone else there? Or...had she finally gone insane?

"Hello?" The voice repeated, and she blinked her eyes a few times. It was pointless; the lack of light wouldn't allow her to see a figure. She shifted, placing her bruised palms against the tear-stained concrete. She painfully heaved herself up and craned her head around.

"Is anyone there?" The girl didn't remember the last time she had said actual words. Her voice had a raspy tone. It reverberated off the four walls, her stomach twisting itself into knots. Maybe they had put someone in here to torture her further--she had taken the longest out of all of her band members to brainwash...they were probably getting desperate and--

"Um...yeah. I-I'm here."

She could hear his heavy breathing, but couldn't make out his figure in the inky darkness. "W-who...are you?"

The voice didn't reply.

"Are you one of them?" Her vocal chords strained to ask.

"N-no. No, no."

"Then, who are you?"

Her voice must have been quiet--a whisper--because she heard a shifting. Something in her gut told her whoever owned that voice was coming closer, and she used what little strength she had left in her legs to backpedal herself against the wall. The sudden impact caused her to let out a whimper.

"What? Sorry, I couldn't hear you." The voice was a bit louder now.

"W-who are you?"

"O-oh! I'm Patrick...Patrick Stump."

A wave of nostalgia hit her. Wasn't Patrick Stump from that one band that Sophia liked? Her face contorted, thinking of Sophia. The guitarist, one of her best friends, had been the first to give in to the cult.

"F-from Fall Ou-out Boy?"

"Yeah."

It went silent. She picked at her short-clipped nails, bit her chapped lips. She took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. She hadn't talked to anyone in a long, long time. In her opinion, there wasn't really anything to talk about. Other than complaining about the pain she was going through (which would only cause her more pain), her life hadn't changed much. The only memories she had left were of this place.