If You Ever Come Back ~Peterick Fanfic~

25 - A Danger To Humanity

Pete's POV

I can't move. I can't think. I can barely breathe. My body and mind are numb and all I can do is sit next to Dan who is lying on the operation table and cry.

I cry so much that I forget everything around me. There is blur over my vision which gives everything a surreal impression. Like this is just a dream.

A voice behind me scares me. I jump up with tears still on my cheeks, turning my back to Dan as if trying to protect him.

"Pete..."

His voice is no more than a whisper, but it is enough to fuel the rage inside my chest.

"What?", I snap.

"What... What have I done?" Patrick looks at me with fear in his eyes, which widen as he sees my body blocking the operation table and as I stay silent.

"What have I done?", he shouts this time, almost hysterically.

Then I realise that it wasn't him killing Dan. It was Lucifer. Patrick didn't do anything. But how in Heaven's name do I tell him this?

"You... I- I mean you didn't...", I stutter.

"Tell me!", Patrick screams, tears flowing from his eyes and his body shaking with fear.

As an answer I step aside, revealing Dan's body. My legs are trembling and my my breathing is fast, afraid of Patrick's reaction.

At first he's just standing there, blinking his eyes confusedly and frowning. Then he raises his eyebrows as the truth starts to hit him.

"Did... Did I...", he stutters, as if he still doesn't believe it.

"Did I kill him?" His voice cracks and a sob escapes his throat.

I can't help but nod, facing the awful reality. That Dan is dead. That he is not coming back.

Patrick's knees become weak and he falls to the ground, just looking at Dan with disbelief in his eyes. I can only stand there, motionless, unable to do anything.

"Patrick?", I whisper.

He tilts his head upwards, tears shining on his cheeks.

"It- it wasn't you... It was Lucifer... In your head...", I try my best to make everything better but the right words don't seem to come out.

"No, Pete!", Patrick shouts all of a sudden. "This was me! I murdered someone! There's his blood on my hands, not on Lucifer's! My hands were around his throat!"

"But... But you didn't do it on purpose, right?", I stutter.

"I remember pushing him down onto the operation table...", Patrick mumbles. "I wanted him dead... Well, I didn't want him dead but at the same time... I did..."

He looks up at me. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

I awkwardly shake my head. Patrick sighs and looks down at the ground.

"I can still remember every thought... How desperately I wanted his blood to flow. How the only thing I desired was his heartbeat, which I could feel pulsating against my fingertips, to stop".

He looks into my eyes.

"I wanted him dead, Pete", he says, breathing heavily. "Every bit of my being wanted him dead... You can't tell me I'm not a murderer, when I wanted to kill him myself."

Then he does something I didn't expect. He starts crying. Long, hysterical sobs break the dead silence. He stumbles forward and falls into my arms. I hold him against me, awkwardly stroking his hair and patting his back.

After we've been standing there for about fifteen minutes Patrick's still crying.

He clutches his heart and cringes, as if he's just been stabbed.

"Lucifer... He's torturing me...", he grunts. "It... It won't stop.... It hurts, Pete".

There was so much desperation in that last sentence that I began to shake.

"I know, Pat", I say in an attempt to calm him down. "But it will stop. It will get better, I promise."

"No", Patrick whispers, tears streaming down his face. "Of all people, you should know that pain in your heart never stops. It never gets better."

Then he looks up, he looks up at me as if I'm his last hope. Af if I'm his only saviour.

"Kill me."

At first I think I haven't heard it properly and I just stand there, confused. Only after he says it the second time it hits me.

"Kill me, please..."

He looks so broken, so small. He looks like I looked before I ended it. But that can't be his fate too.

"No, Patrick... I can't", I say. "Think of your family, your friends... Think of everything lying in your future..."

"How can I have a future when he will always be here. I can't live when the Devil lives inside my head. Who knows who else I will kill... I'm a danger to humanity. I am the monster parents tell their children about at night.."

"No, you aren't", I say again, but I begin to think it's hopeless. "Patrick we... We'll work this out, okay?"

Patrick just shakes his head, crying and pulling his hair.

"He's here!", he shrieks. "He's here again, Pete!" He starts crying even more.

"Kill me, please!", he begs. "Kill me before I kill you!"

I take a step back, terrified by his words. But I can't deny what my eyes see, his eyes are slowly turning the yellow-ish green that is so horribly familiar.

"No", I just say. "I'm not going to kill my best friend, my boyfriend, my everything..."

But Patrick doesn't hear me. He slowly looks up, the blue glow in his eyes reflecting the dimmed lights in the room.

"Do it", he grunts one last time.

He walks towards me, hands reaching for my throat. I stumble backwards and notice one of the scalpels they used to perform surgeries with. It's quite big and still sharp.

I look at Patrick, who is not really Patrick anymore, but at the same time he still is. Would it really be so bad if he died, or would it only end his suffering? Wouldn't it be worse if I let him live?

I take a deep breath which gets cut off by a sob. I take the scalpel in my hand and push my eyes closed.

"I'm sorry, Patrick", I shout before I lower my hand and push the scalpel right into his chest.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I keep repeating it while pushing the scalpel over and over again. Blood is splashing on my face and I can feel the taste of metal in my mouth.

Only when Patrick has stopped moving, I let go of the scalpel. I look down, into the beautiful green-blue eyes that aren't yellow anymore, that are human again.

They look up at me but can't see anything. I can't stop looking at those eyes but after a while I look at his whole face.

I can't help but to cry only more, because his mouth is curled up into a smile. He died smiling. He died knowing that his pain would end.

Patrick Martin Stump died. And it was because of me. And a bit because of himself. And a bit because of Lucifer. But also because of me...

But mostly, he died happily. He died because he wanted to. And at that moment, I realise we're probably more alike than I thought we were.

A/N: Oops, even more feels. But don't worry, things will get a bit better and happier after this.

I hope you liked it and please leave a comment if you did and stuff :) Sadly, I feel like this story is coming to an end. Maybe two or three chapters and then it's done. But I'll probably write a sequel.

~Panda