Hold Me Down (Peterick) ➳ Book 3

Fourteen

Patrick woke up in his dingy apartment with a start. He had faint memories of the place, but he knew it was his. Maybe the nightmare that had shaken him from his sleep was still clouding his mind, creating the feelings of displacement. And perhaps he was correct because the longer he stayed awake the more clear his mind became.

The Polaroid camera he used the night before with Hayley was sideways on the nightstand, dozens on photos scattered along the ground. The raspberry scent from her cigarettes had been filtered out through the slightly opened window, leaving a chill in the air. It must be nearing Christmas, Patrick thought, making him smile.

Looking out the window, the dreary morning was coated in a overcast of grey clouds and cool weather. This was Patrick's favorite time of the year. He hurried through his morning routine and quickly got dressed. He had no definitive plans, but he didn't feel like sitting around at home doing nothing.

He had planned on getting Hayley to help with decorating his apartment, but the excitement he got while peering through the windows was more than enough persuasion to send him scouring the corners of every shop on the street.

The sky was a mixture of pink and orange with the slightest hints of purple when Patrick stepped into a tiny shop near the edge of the district. He wasn't sure what drew him to this particular shop, but the minute he stepped inside a sense of peace surrounded him. His body was on autopilot as he walked up and down the isles, taking in all of the trinkets and baubles on the shelves. Blankets and pillows in shades of pinks, blues, and yellows were neatly folded and delicately placed in boxes of coordinating colors.

He picked up a white box and smiled at the tiny pair of yellow shoes resting on a small pillow, a smile quickly growing.

"Can I help you find anything?" A redhead with an accent said as he adjusted some merchandise a few feet away.

Patrick tore his gaze away from the box and shook his head. "No, but thanks."

"No problem. If you need anything, just find me. I'm Ed."

"Thank you, Ed."

Ed wandered off, leaving Patrick to set the box carefully on the shelf and continue on.

*

Pete started at the box with distaste. Inside were the yellow shoes Patrick had used to tell Pete he was pregnant, and now both Patrick and Astoria were gone. Pete knew it was for the best, though it didn't mean he liked it. The threat was far greater than Pete had ever anticipated, and he couldn't put Patrick in that position.

With a heavy heart Pete had sent Patrick back to his apartment with a heavily modified memory. Once the threat was over Patrick would come home. Once Pete had eliminated the danger.

"Hey, Pete," Brendon called as he knocked on the door.

Pete shoved the box further into his drawer and slammed it shut. He didn't need socks anyway.

"What, Brendon?"

Cautiously, Brendon stepped inside and eased the door closed. He timidly looked around, fishing for what to say.

"Where's Ryan?" he eventually asked.

And it was times like this when Pete wished Patrick was there because Patrick would know how to break it to Brendon. He'd know how to hold him, how to sooth him, how to explain to Dallon why Brendon was acting odd. But Patrick wasn't there.

"Listen, I'm not good at this, so I'm just gonna say it. Ryan's dead."

And suddenly Brendon had thrown himself at Pete, letting the tears dot Pete's shirt. And to Pete's surprise he wrapped his arms around Brendon and let him cry.

*

"Why do I have to befriend him?" Fun Ghoul asked as he stared at his changed reflection in the mirror.

"Because, Ghoul, I mean, Frank," Party Poison said. "He's seen you the least so you'll have the smallest chance of causing a breakthrough. And it's not like I won't ever be around."

Frank sighed. "Do you ever want to run away, Gee?"

Gee shook his head immediately. "No. Ryan saved me and I owe him and Pete my life. Besides, I wouldn't have you."

Frank smacked him on the shoulder, running his hands through his short hair. Gee had dyed his hair black while Frank opted to nearly cut it all off. They both looked completely different yet exactly the same. How Pete thought this would work was a mystery to Frank.

He stepped out of the apartment and hurried downstairs. His goal was to run into Patrick somehow and establish acquaintance with him. Easier said than done. Frank hadn't been a people person when he was a human, and Ryan had been more worried about keeping him alive than updating his social skills when in the creating stages of his reanimation. Not that Frank had ever needed it.

Using the small homing beacon that had been surgically inserted into Patrick's upper right forearm Frank found him in the midst of the grocery store. He was already laden down with bags, giving Frank a golden opportunity to strike up conversation.

"Need a hand?" he asked as Patrick struggled to reach something on a shelf one inch taller than his reach.

Patrick gave him a look of curiosity since Frank was smaller than him, but nodded anyway.

Quickly Frank retrieved the bag of popcorn using the bottom shelf as a step and held it out to Patrick.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Name's Frank by the way."

Patrick hesitated, "Vaughn."

Maybe Pete's lab of scientists had actually made the serum work after all, Frank though.

"Do you need some help? I see you've got a lot of stuff." Frank gestured to all of the bags on Patrick's arms.

"Would it be a bother? I should've gone home and dropped all of it off, but I knew I wouldn't leave if I did."

"It would be my pleasure."

The two navigated the store quickly as it was getting darker. Neither of them said much, besides a round of laughter at the half blind woman's comment about how cute of a couple they were.

Frank helped Patrick unpack and even made him dinner.

As the clock struck eleven, Frank left, saying he was sure he'd see Patrick around.

"How do you know?" Patrick asked as Frank opened his door.

"We live in the same building."

"What number is yours?"

"93."