Cause of Death {{PETERICK}}

//chapter seven//

Patrick woke up that morning with Pete cuddled into his side. It was the best feeling he'd had for a while, but he still had to get out of bed. He tried his best to move as subtly as he could, to avoid waking Pete up. He was so cute while he was asleep, when he wasn't having a nightmare, that was. Despite that, Patrick had to make himself breakfast, which meant going downstairs and leaving Pete alone in his bed. Part of Patrick was telling him to ignore his hunger and stay in bed, but the other part of him was telling him that he needed to eat breakfast.

Patrick chose to listen to his stomach, as much as he liked Pete he was sure he'd be fine if he woke up by himself. He was pretty hungry, too, which made him want to pick breakfast over Pete as well. He went downstairs and into his kitchen, then he put two slices of bread into the toaster. As soon as he'd done that, Patrick remembered that Pete would want to eat as well, so he put another two slices in. He hoped Pete didn't mind eating toast, because he didn't have anything else for him.

Once the toaster was finished with the bread, Patrick put all four slices on a plate and carried it back up the stairs. Normally he wouldn't eat in his room, but he didn't want to force Pete to go down the stairs, especially not if he was still feeling tired. Patrick wasn't good with people, and he wasn't very hospitable, but Pete seemed to be changing that. It was either that, or he was just an exception. Patrick felt like that might be it, Pete could probably do anything he wanted, even kill someone, and Patrick would find it amazing. It wasn't a healthy way to think of anyone, but it wasn't that bad.

When Patrick got into his bedroom, he noticed that Pete was still asleep. He had another moral battle with himself, he didn't want to wake Pete up, especially after seeing how tired he was the night before. This time he had to wake him up, otherwise his toast would get cold, and no one liked cold toast. Patrick could only hope that Pete wouldn't react the same way he had reacted the first time he'd been woken up. It didn't upset him that Pete was angry, because Patrick knew he wasn't, he just didn't want to stop him from getting enough sleep.

"Pete, Pete, Pete," Patrick repeated, lightly wiggling Pete's arm until he woke up.
Pete yawned, and sat up, "What time is it, and what time did I go to sleep? I feel like shit."
"Well, you went to sleep at about 2am, so that would explain why you feel like shi--"
Pete interrupted Patrick with a gasp, "You can't say that, that's a bad word! You're too sweet and little for bad words, Patrick!"
"Fuck off," Patrick laughed, "just because I'm small!? That's, like, racist or... something..."

Pete just laughed. Patrick knew he was only joking, but that didn't stop it from stinging slightly. He was sensitive about his height, probably more than he needed to be, actually. That was always a big thing for bullies, that and the fact that he was one hundred percent homosexual. The gay thing wasn't an issue anymore, Patrick knew that was a normal thing that no one could do anything about. People got bullied for that all the time, it was just out of ignorance, it couldn't really bother anyone that much.

Patrick's height was different, he always felt like he was supposed to be taller, and that his parents must have been cursed with tiny children just before his birth or something. It was unrealistic, but Patrick didn't need it to be realistic, he just needed a way to explain it to himself. High school bullies always liked to remind him that he was shorter than everyone else, it wasn't his fault, but it began to feel like it was. It didn't make any sense, but constant insults can do that to people.

"It's not racist, you silly," Pete smiled, "is that toast? Is some of that toast for me? Did you make me toast?"
Patrick nodded, "It is toast. Some of that toast is for you. Yes, Pete, I made you toast."
"Awesome, thanks."

Patrick sat himself down on his bed, and carefully placed the plate of toast on top of his duvet, trying to avoid getting crumbs everywhere. The only reason he was eating in his room was because Pete was still asleep. Patrick usually kept all foods downstairs, to make sure everything stayed tidy and free of crumbs, especially his bed.

Patrick ate his two pieces of toast, and so did Pete. When they were done there was a slight pause between the two of them, while neither of them were sure what to do or say. It was Patrick who had to break the silence.

"I don't know if you had any plans for today," he said, "but if you could stay for little while that would be cool."
Pete nodded, "I can stay, that's fine. I don't really do a lot by myself, and since I don't have any friends, I don't do anything."
"You said you'd carry on telling me about 'Mikey' when you woke up... Do you feel up to it right now?"

Pete wasn't sure if he was ready to explain everything about Mikey yet. He wanted to, and had told Patrick he would, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to do so yet. It was only hard because it involved so many memories that Pete had tried his best to forget about once Mikey had died. Despite his uncertainties about it, Pete nodded and began to explain himself.

"What did I already tell you?" Pete asked, "I don't want to waste my words."
"You told me that Mikey was your best friend, and that you knew each other forever," Patrick said, wanting Pete to get on with the story. He was far more interested in it than he really should have been.
"Yeah, we did... Uh, so, Mikey Way was a good guy, didn't deserve anything that he got. By that I mean getting murdered. A few people, even his brother, tried to tell me it wasn't murder, but I knew they were lying. I don't know why they wanted to protect that fucking murderer, but they did. It was all pretty shitty of Gerard, Mikey's brother, actually. He didn't even seem to care that much--"

Patrick had to stop Pete, something was familiar about the name Gerard Way. He couldn't quite think of what, though. He'd heard it from someone else, and he wasn't sure who.

"Is Gerard Way in prison now?" Patrick asked, hoping he was so he didn't sound stupid.
"Yep," Pete sighed, "he was okay, but he went to prison instead of his boyfriend. The guy who killed Mikey is still out there, actually. I hate him a little bit less now, but still--"
"Why do you hate him less now?"
"He set us up."