Goner (Patrick Stump/FOB Short Story ft. Tyler Joseph)

Chapter 8

Even though I was apparently dead, I'd never felt my heart beat faster than while I waited for Allie to come back with Elisa. The anxiety was part from wondering what Elisa's reaction to seeing me the way I was was going to be and part from being scared that Allie wasn't going to bring her back, perhaps do something else with her. Nonetheless, about fifteen minutes passed and the front door was pushed in, Allie entering the "home" with my wife trailing behind her.

"Elisa!" I exclaimed, rushing out from the kitchen into the foyer where I attacked my wife with a hug. I'd never been more grateful to feel her arms wrap around me, holding me close to her.

"Patrick," She murmured back, tightening our embrace.

I listened as Allie's footsteps echoed through the front hallway as she joined Tyler's side, who'd gotten up from his bar stool and was now standing in the threshold between the room and the hallway.

"I've been worried sick about you," My wife muttered into my shoulder, pulling back a little bit to look up at me, tears glistening in her eyes. The corners of my lips curled downward into a frown. I hated seeing her cry. "Nobody knew where you were, Patrick."

"I know, and I'm sorry, I just-"

"I'm just glad you're okay," She cut me short, bringing her hand up and caressing my face. Her eyebrows furrowed together before she slowly retracted her hand back to her side, commenting, "You're so cold."

I cautiously stepped away from her, not wanting her to grow any more suspicious than she already was. "W-Why don't we sit down?" I turned away from her and stalked into the living room, not without catching a glimpse of Allie and Tyler looking down at a crumpled-up newspaper together.

"Holy shit," I heard Tyler whisper, trying to meet the dead girl's gaze that was locked on the print she held in her hands, "They found him?"

"I guess so," She murmured under her breath.

"When was this published?"

"Today."

"You don't think she knows yet, do you?"

"Beats me," Allie replied, shaking her head, "I didn't know until I picked it up out of the yard when I brought her back. You don't think she heard about it yet, though, do you? I mean, she wouldn't have come if she did, right?"

"Who knows."

I was distracted from their conversation when I was tugged forward, Elisa dragging me toward the couch and pulling me down beside her. I feigned a grin, moving myself farther away from her. Her facial expression contorted into one of confusion, baffled as to why I was distancing myself from her. However, she kept her lips sealed and chose not to address the issue.

"So, uh, how's Declan been?" I spoke out to break the silence that had blanketed over us, clasping my hands in my lap and twiddling my thumbs, my head hung low in an attempt to avoid my wife's concerned gaze.

"He...He's been okay. Almost every day for the past two months, he's asked me when you're coming home," She answered, unintentionally creating a crack in my stagnant, non-beating heart, "He really misses you, Patrick, and so do I."

"I'm sorry, Elisa, I-"

"This tour thing, Patrick, it's getting harder and harder to be okay with," She confessed, her voice soft and reserved. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red, and her head was tilted down, just like mine. We just couldn't bear to look into each other's eyes, afraid of seeing the emotions that hid behind them. "I mean, it's not just the two of us anymore, you know? We've got Declan now and he needs you."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

Another moment passed by where neither of us said anything to each other. I looked back over my shoulder and saw Tyler and Allie's heads in the threshold, peering around the corner and watching Elisa and me talk. The same expression was slathered across their faces, with wide eyes, thin lips, and a paleness to their skin (though they always wore a lack of color). I gave them a strange look, as if to wordlessly ask them what was wrong. However, before either of them could build the courage to step out from their hiding place, Elisa cleared her throat and brought my attention back to her.

"So are you ready to go home?"

The fracture in my heart grew even longer, wider, deeper. She had to say that. Of all things she could've said, she had to say that. Had I expected it? Yes. Was I prepared for it? No.

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, a nervous chuckle slipping past my lips. "A-About that..." Her face dropped and the rift broke my heart into two pieces. "Elisa, I-I want to come home but-"

"But what?" She interrupted me, an undeniable pain laced within her voice, "You want to stay here? Alone? In this shithole?" She extended her arms out to the sides, motioning to the deteriorating house around us. My snapped up, my wife swearing an anomaly. In fact, I don't think I'd ever heard her swear before then. "What about me, Patrick, what about Declan?"

I sighed, daring to remove the space in between us and even go so far as to take her hands in mine. "Elisa, hon, I want to come home, I really do, but I...I can't."

"Why?"

That's when it hit me.

I wasn't going to go home. I wasn't going to be there for Declan, or Elisa.

I was stuck here. Forever. Till the end of time.

"Be-Because I'm dead."