Sanity (Peterick)

22

***

Pete's POV

If there's one thing I've noticed recently, it's that my meds are actually doing me something. I've realized that my mood swings are less intense and less frequent, and now, it's a lot easier to reason with myself. Of course, it's not completely gone. Some nights are still hard, but I'm glad I seem to be doing better.

I told Brendon and he seemed so happy. He told me to stay on the meds for a while longer, and I could improve even more. I feel pretty good today.

There's one thing though.

I'm worried that I'll have to leave. Normally, someone would be more than happy to get out of here, but if I leave, I'll be leaving Patrick. I don't want him to be all alone. This place hardly gets anyone new, so I doubt he'd get another roommate. Either way, I want to be his roommate. I don't want anyone to take my place.

I don't want to think about this, I just gotta appreciate the time I have now.

Speaking of Patrick, he doesn't seem to be doing very well. For the past couple nights, he's been waking up in the middle of the night, from what I assume, are nightmares, but I don't know for sure. He always seems startled when he wakes up, and then when I ask about it he just tells me it was nothing.

Plus, that Ben guy. Yeah, he's been a real jerk lately. I don't even know half the things he's been telling Patrick, but whatever it is, he needs to cut the crap. I really just wanna punch that guy, but I obviously can't and won't. That would be hurting Patrick, and isn't that what Ben wants?

Anyway, I just took my meds and I'm heading back to our room now.

I place my hand on the cold doorknob, but I stop just before I open the door.

"Just shut up! Fucking shut up, I'm begging you,"

It was Patrick. He was yelling at someone, and he was extremely frustrated.

I opened the door, and Patrick was the only one in the room. He looked like he was having a mental breakdown or something. He was on his bed with his face buried in his pillow, whispering words I couldn't understand. I ran over and got on the bed.

"Patrick?" I said and he looked up pretty quickly. He probably didn't notice I was in the room before. "Patrick, what's wrong?" I hope this actually is Patrick.

"He won't leave me alone, Pete,"

"Who, Ben?" He nodded yes.

"It just won't stop, even right now, I'm trying to talk to you and he's just yelling at me,"

He sat up and I hugged him. He started to cry into my shoulder for a minute or two. My shoulders all wet now but I don't care. He's been dealing with this a lot lately.

"It's gonna be okay," I tried to tell him.

"Pete, it's not gonna be okay, I'm not getting better," he sniffled a bit, "I'm gonna die like this,"

"Patrick, please don't think like that," we pulled out of the hug so we could see each others faces.

"But Pete, he's gonna kill me, I just know it,"

"No, he won't. No one here's gonna let that happen. I'm not going to let that happen,"

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"I'm sorry, I just.. I'm just scared,"

"Don't be sorry, this isn't your fault,"

"But that's what he tells me, it is my fault,"

"Why would this be your fault?"

"Because, I let this happen. I just wasn't strong enough,"

"Patrick don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he's talking about,"

"It's really hard not to, he's yelling at me,"

"Even if you can hear him, don't believe it, trust me okay? It only hurts you,"

He looked down at his hands on his lap. Then he closed his eyes. I'm sure he was hearing Ben. He started crying again.

"I um.. I remember, Ben told me something the other day,"

"What'd he say?" I said quietly.

"He said.. that you don't love me, and he just keeps telling me that,"

"Wait what? Patrick of course I love you, Ben doesn't know anything about my relationship with you,"

He was quiet.

"I really love you, Patrick, and I'm never gonna let Ben take you, I promise."

He looked at me, but seemed unsure.

"Do you trust me?"

"I trust you,"

***

Eventually, the voices faded, and Patrick was at peace again. He seemed pretty mentally exhausted and he said he needed some time to lay down alone, so I decided to go see Brendon. Today was his day off, but he's here for some reason. I don't know, Brendon really likes this place.

I met up with him in his room, but he thought it would be better to talk over some coffee at Starbucks, so he signed me out and we talked there.

What's funny though, is that even though Brendon doesn't have work today, he still talks to me like one of our sessions. Most of the conversation is about how my condition is.

We sat at a table with two seats, by a window.

"You wanted a caramel mocha, right?" Brendon said as he sat down.

"Yep. Thanks for paying, by the way,"

"No problem," he scooted his chair in a bit. "It's weird though, this place is usually crowded,"

I looked around and realized this place was completely empty, other than the barista at the counter, and some bald guy in the corner of the shop. It was kinda nice though. Loud and crowded places can get annoying.

"So.. How's it going?" I asked.

"I'm doing good, you?"

"I'm alright,"

"What's been going on lately? Not that much really happens at the ward," Brendon asked.

I smile, "I know, things get kinda boring after a while,"

"Yeah, that's why it's a really good thing that your meds are working, that way you can get out of there soon. I know you really want to resume your life,"

"Right, right,"

"In fact, I went over your records and such, and I think I'm gonna give you a choice,"

"Between what?"

"Well, you can either be signed out of the ward for good tomorrow, or you can stay for another week to make sure you are ready to go," he said with a big smile. Just as soon as he said that, the drinks were done and barista called his name. Brendon picked up the drinks and gave mine to me.

"One caramel mocha for you," he said as he passed it to me. "And one latte for me." He sat back down. "Anyway, those are your two options,"

"Hm.." I tried to make it seem like the choice needed some thinking, but it didn't. "I think I'm gonna stay a little longer, just to be sure,"

"Okay, sounds good,"
he said.

The rest of the talk was casual. Everything went well, but the fact that I only had one week left bothered me the whole time.

When we got back to the ward, and I got back to my room, Patrick had fallen asleep.

I sat next to him and just thought; one week left.

Authors note

Sorry it took forever, there's a lot going on in my life over here. I'll try to get better at it. :)

As always,
Xoxo