Young Volcanoes

~Chapter Twelve~

(A/N): All hell breaks loose soon. (Side note, i like Ryan a little bit irl, just i needed a bad guy and i love Brendon to much to make him the bad guy.) Stay tuned, you fucking Peterick trashbags (jkjk, love you really.) Cute fillers for the now. Kinda depends how i fell. Byeeee. X

"You know something? Besides you constantly falling on your ass, iceskating was kinda fun." I said.
"Fuck yourself." Patrick retorted.
"I have a boyfriend for that." I laugh, watching Patrick's face slowly contort up with laughter. "Damn right." Patrick replied, giggling slightly.
"Boys! Behave yourselves." Andy snarled, making me and Patrick hush ourselves. Andy walked ahead of us and we giggled under our breath.
"Shit, sorry, Gandhi. Forgot you were solid." I snorted.
"You can shut your fucking mouth, Sister Wentz." Andy replied.
"Oof. Feisty." I said, earning myself a look from Andy.
___________________________________
I crash down onto the bed, exhausted. A sudden rush of energy rushes into me, however, when Patrick enters the room. "You look cute in my pajama's. Are those little pizza's all over them?" I comment, making room for Patrick on my bed. It was too cold to sleep in the basement; so we were up in my room. Patrick lied down next to me. "Shuddup." He said, nuzzling into my chest. "Okay, Daddy." I say. Patrick pulls away from me and gives me a funny look.
"Don't call me Daddy, Peter."
"M'kay, Daddy."
"Pete!" Patrick replied.
"Daddy!"
"Grandma!"
"Aunt Hilda-"
"NOOOOO! Ewww! We don't talk talk about her!" Patrick wailed. We looked at each other in silence for a few seconds and then burst into hysterical laughter. Patrick fell off the bed at one point. "You alright there, 'Trick? Come here often?" I ask, tears of amusement welling in my eyes. Patricn stumbles back into bed, giggling.
We settle down under the covers and i clap the lights out.
After a few seconds, i whisper loudly "Night, Dad!" To Patrick, which sets us both off again.
___________________________________
"Pete. Petey. Wake up." Patrick says, nudging me.
"Whaaaaat?" I groan, sleepily.
"Someone's just left a voicemail. It's erm... creepy, to say the least."
My heads snaps up, trying to detect Patrick's outline in the shadows.
"What? Let me listen."
Patrick obeyed, and pressed play on his small IPhone.
"You took away everything." A voice croaked. "You took away my life. My boyfriend hates me, my family won't talk to me... all my friends have left me. All because of you. You stupid blonde faggot. Enjoying your time with your little boyfriend? It'll he over soon. Make the most of it. I will reign over you and your pathetic little life- don't you worry about that. Don't expect me to play nice."
I stare blankly at the screen for a second.
I inhale sharply. "Patrick, you gotta go to the police. We both know exactly who that was, and we know little of the things he's capable of. Patrick, he's a psychopath. A lumatic. Ryan Ross is mentally unstable." I shout, exasperated.
"We can't know for sure that he's actually going to do anything." Patrick said.
"Exactly! We need to let the police know, just so they can keep an eye out."
"Pete..." Patrick sighs, chewing his lip.
"I'm just trying to protect you! Oh, you know what? Fine. Don't go." I say, storming out of the room, slamming the door shut and running downstairs into the basement.