I'm Just Passing The Time (Peterick Stripper AU)

The Beat Of My Heart

I sat in the lobby of the hospital next to Frank, unwillingly bouncing my leg on my heel. I was fighting looking down at my blood stained clothes. They had taken Max into surgery, but it was unclear if the kid would make it.

"FRANK!"

We both looked up as Gerard rushed into the room, Mikey at his heels. Frank stood in just enough time to catch Gerard in his arms. Gerard held the smaller boy tightly, tugging at his dark hair before burying his face in his neck.

"I was so worried! I'm so sorry I was acting bitchy I love you so much, you stupid tiny man..." Gerard kept rambling while Frank tried to shush him. Mikey walked past them and sat beside me.

"What about the kid?" He asked quietly, "I know Gerard has priorities, but everyone said the guy who got shot was just a kid..."

"They don't know..." I replied almost silently, unable to keep still.

"What about you?" Mikey asked with worry in his tone.

I couldn't describe how I felt. I had just carried someone on the verge of death to a hospital and their blood was still on my clothes. I couldn't stop shaking in some way or another. My body refused to stay still.

"Pete." Mikey put his hand on my shoulder and I just jumped, causing him to retract his hand quickly.

"You're both positive of the name?" Gerard asked, looking between Frank and I. He had released Frank from his death grip hug, but he still had a grip on Frank's arm.

"Fuentes." I let out quietly. I could barely bring my voice above a whisper.

"It was Vic." Frank nodded.

Gerard looked furious. "That bastard. Going after more of my men and a kid, a freaking kid!.." He pushed his fingers over his white hair and looked down, "The other one didn't make it... Did he?"

There was no response from any of us.

"Damn the Bulls in the Bronx!" Gerard hissed, "They think they can just take what they please..."

"He's not stopping there, Gee." Frank spoke up, "He wants it all."

"Then he's shit out of luck, isn't he?" Gerard snapped, "Because I don't give up that easy. We'll carry on. Bulls or no bulls."

Frank looked down with the quiet mumble of "They may not give us the choice..."

---

I trudged up to my apartment hours later. Gerard had brought me a clean shirt, so that was a bit better for my nerves... Max was apparently going to make it, but he hadn't woken up yet. I was just glad he was alright...

I pushed the door open tiredly to be greeted by a sight I would not have expected. Brendon was laying stomach down on the couch with one arm and one leg dangling over the side. On top of him, was the stripper he always visited in pretty much the same position. Both were sleeping soundly... It was just a pretty odd scene to walk in on.

I shut the door, only receiving the response of Brendon's face scrunching slightly. I slid my feet across the worn carpet in the direction of my bedroom door. There was a paper attached to my closed door that I barely wanted to read. I held it close to my face to distinguish the letters on the paper.

"Brought you home a treat
-B"

I looked back at the sleeping figures on the couch before looking back at my door. I was a bit afraid of what 'treat' he could of brought me, but I was also just exhausted. I pushed open my door.

"Bonjour, yeux whiskey." A familiar voice yawned.

I looked at my bed and saw The Punk sitting up criss crossed on my bed. His head was tilted at me as he rubbed his eye with a long white sleeve. He was wearing the shirt I had left for him on my second visit.