Fall Out Boy Imagines/Preferences

96. Afire Love pt. 1

~Things were all good yesterday, and then the Devil took your memory~

Pete paced the narrow hallway in front of the hospital room, running his hands through his hair. He tugged on his brown roots, sharply, the pain helped to clear his panicked mind. 

You were on the other side of the plaster wall, receiving emergency treatment. Pete didn't know much of the details, just that he was awoken by a stern nurse and shunted from the room quickly. 

Now his sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floor as he paced, his anxiety slowly eating away at him. Pete just wanted to be with you, to hold your hand; it killed him to be on the other side of this wall. 

"Mr. Wentz," your doctor said quietly as he came out of the room. 

Pete rushed towards him. "How is she? How is (Y/N)?"

The doctor discarded his blue, latex gloves. "She had a seizure, we got her sedated. She'll be fine," he added, at Pete's worried expression. 

Pete breathed a sigh of relied. "Can I see her?" 

"There's a problem." He stepped in front of the door, blocking Pete. "We think the seizure may have effected her frontal lobe." 

Pete's face fell. "What does that mean?" 

"Frontal lobe has a hand in many things, most importantly, it deals with memory," he explained. 

"You're saying that she won't remember me?" Pete raised an eyebrow. 

The doctor shook his head sadly. "We'd need to run some tests first to be completely sure. But it's likely." He put a hand on Pete's shoulder. "I'm sorry." 

Pete ran a hand over his face. "When can I see her?"

"Let us run those tests, shouldn't take more than an hour." The doctor gave Pete a sympathetic smile. "In the meantime, go eat in the cafeteria, maybe use the bathroom sink to take a shower. She's in good hands, don't worry. 

"Yeah, okay, yeah," Pete mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I'll be back in thirty minutes." 

The doctor patted Pete's back. "See you soon, Pete." 

>>>>>>

Pete didn't go to the cafeteria, nor did he go freshen up in the bathroom. Instead, he paced the front of the hospital building and called his mom. 

"She doesn't- she might not remember me," he said, his voice panicking. 

"Pete. it's not certain yet," her voice was soothing. 

He slumped against the brick wall. "The way the doc was talking, it definitely was." 

"Let's just get the results first, and then we can worry about the rest later." His mother insisted. 

Pete tugged on his hair, wincing at his grip. "I'm gonna worry about it now." 

"All this worrying just might kill you." 

"Good, at least I'd be there with (Y/N)," Pete snapped.

The silence that ensued was awkward. While it wasn't a surprise that your current condition was worsening, even this declaration was a little morbid for Pete. 

"Pete, you can't talk like that," his mom said quietly. "(Y/N) will pull through, she's tough." 

"She's on an oxygen tank mom, she can't breathe without it! This is the third seizure in the past two weeks, she's been permanently checked into the hospital. The cancer is killing her; that's what the doctors keep telling me. She's not going to pull through this!" Pete yelled, tears stinging his eyes.