Paper Hearts [Brallon-ish]

50 days

Something awful was going to happen. I could feel it in my chest each time I stepped off campus and wandered through the parking lot with everyone. It shot up my spine each time I sat in the back seat of Patrick's car with Brendon and Ryan, and disappeared as soon as I stepped foot out of that car. And it would reappear when I climbed back in and disintegrate into the wind as soon as we were back on campus. And it was only recent it started happening too, like something had changed. And I couldn't tell anyone about it otherwise I'd probably be sent to a mental hospital. So I just brushed it off as some weird chills and ignored it.

Oh how wrong I wish I was.

January 30th, 3 hours away from the 31st, Pete had fallen asleep slumped over Brendon's kitchen table again. Apparently working on his English essay was very tiring because it was the 5th time he'd passed out in the last hour. Which was pretty impressive, considering the tv was at full blast because he claimed having the volume higher would keep him awake. Which it didn't. But it made for some great blackmail pictures, so it was okay.

Brendon was out across campus for the day, making up some test in that stupid German class he'd missed because he slept in too late. And the teacher understood because yknow he was her star student and now he was easily forgiven. Hell, he could murder every student in that classroom and he'd still be defended by her.

And then the thundering steps shook the hallway and the door burst open, miraculously without waking up Pete, and Brendon ran in and started tearing up the room -- his room--, searching through everything he could get his hands on. And Patrick was out with Ryan grocery shopping for a couple hours that night because Pete had used up half his kitchen for 'The Ultimate Sandwich' (which, by the way, didn't even fit in his mouth properly so the entire thing went to waste since he couldn't eat it 'the right way') so there was only me left to stop him from demolishing the walls and ripping apart the floor tiles.

I grabbed him by the wrists and held him back as far as I could because then he started kicking at me, avoiding my gaze but still trying to get away.

"What are you doing! It's like 9-"

"I've got to get out!" He yelled at the top of his lungs like we were back in the forest, leaning over the railing and screaming into nothingness. Brendon tried to pull himself away again but ended up crumbling like dust to the tile, his hands holding on to my wrists instead of the other way around.

"Get out of where? There's nothing to-" he interrupted me with a short outburst of screaming  as many curse words as he could in 5 seconds before yelling again.

"The 2011 tornado outbreak," Brendon cried, his tone showing signs of calming down but his breaths quickened "over the course of 3 days, 7 hours, and 18 minutes, 362 tornadoes were recorded in the Midwest, northeast, and southwest. 324 people died, over 2000 people were injured, and the over all damage was like 11 billion dollars.

"On April 27th, there was a record 217 tornadoes in one day. And all I can imagine is stepping outside and left with nowhere to go, because fuck, where else are you going to go when everything is being ripped to shreds by the F5 tornado barreling towards your house? Nowhere. And I'm stuck, Dallon, I'm stuck in the middle of a tornado and I've got to get out!"

And I couldn't reason with him to stop screaming bloody murder because he was literally falling apart right in front of me, and somehow Pete was still asleep and it was just me and him. Me in the midst of a tornado, destroying everything with no regards to anyone's safety, including his own.

And then I thought, well he is a perfect storm.

Then I told myself I really shouldn't say that for the sake of my life and any part of him that wasn't self doubt.

He groaned again, shorter this time and mixed with a cry of anger, and loosened his grip around my wrists and fell back to the floor in defeat. And he stared up at the ceiling like it was the night sky that he'd become so enraptured and intrigued by, more than usual lately.

"Fuck," he said under his breath "I've got to get out."

..:..::..:::..::..:..

Pete woke up again 13 minutes until January 31st, Brendon long gone on a walk and everyone else still shopping.

Does grocery shopping even take this long? It's been like 5 hours. Honestly, Ryan had probably convinced Patrick to go for ice cream with him, and when Ryan got ice cream he got as much as he could stomach before losing it all in the bathroom later.

"How long was I out for this time?" He asked and rubbed his eyes, still tired.

"Like 3 hours."

"Shit." Pete muttered and frantically tapped keys on his laptop. "Oh wait, never mind... Did you finish my essay?"

"The due date is in 12 minutes and I thought I'd be nice for once." I told him and he looked up to the clock we duct taped to the ceiling last month so all we had to do was just lean backwards to check the time. It proved to be much more efficient.

"Huh. Well, you're the real MVP." Pete laughed and pushed in his chair, flopping down on Brendon's couch next to me. "Isn't Brendon back yet?"

"He went on a walk like half an hour ago. Came back screaming that he was a tornado and that he had to get out. I was pretty surprised you slept through the whole ordeal." 

"Look at you and your fancy vocabulary." Pete frowned and bit his bottom lip in thought. "What about Patrick and Ryan?"

"I think they went for ice cream." I sighed, and just before I could say anything else a couple doors slammed down the hall. A girl started screeching words I couldn't make out and a mush of mumbled speech from another person tried to reason, and then another door crashed shut and it was silent. [dw it's not breb]

"Should we go out and look for Brendon?"

"He'll come back eventually," Pete said, voice airy like he'd begun to doze off again "he always does."

[1111 words, 9/17/16, I hate and love this chapter honestly it's like awful but not bad yknow what I mean]