Dr Urie's notes were difficult to understand, Pete decided. But he persevered. He needed something big. Something scary. Something that would make Patrick regret ever stepping foot into this household.
Patrick's fear of Christmas obviously stems from the traumatic witnessing of his father shooting his stepmother in the head on Christmas Day. He was dressed as Santa Claus at the time, and also intoxicated. Patrick is obviously emotionally scarred by the incident, after being raised by his stepmother after his own mother died in childbirth, watching her get shot is having a detrimental impact on his mental health.
Pete didn't know what a lot of the words meant. Like traumatic, and intoxicated, childbirth, detrimental, emotionally scarred. It was all gibberish as far as he was concerned.
But what he did pick up on was three words. Fear, Christmas and Santa Claus.
Pete had been Santa in last year's Christmas play at his school. The outfit was way, way back in his wardrobe, and Pete was lucky it still fit. It even had a beard. This was a nice costume, if he did say so himself.
He gathered a trash bag as the santa sack, and a bell too, before putting his boots on and making his way downstairs.
"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas! I'm here to kill you!"
Pete's Mom looked angry, and Pete's Dad looked so angry that he could punch a hole in the wall.
Patrick was frozen. He didn't even cry for Pete's Mom like Pete expected him too. Instead, Patrick pressed his hands to his ears, and screamed the loudest and most-high pitched he possibly could, before turning and running. Patrick wasn't a very fast runner, and kept falling over.
"I'M GONNA GET YOU!" Pete couldn't help but giggle as he chased Patrick, easily catching up. Patrick slammed the door closed to the toilet and flicked the lock closed, before screaming again. And again. And again.
"Patty! Patrick open the door!" Pete's Mom panicked, rushing forward and trying to pull on the handle. Patrick didn't open the door, nor did he stop screaming and crying. Pete's Dad tried to kick it down, but that only made Patrick even worse. Pete was confused. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.
"Come on Patty, please!" Pete's Mom was growing desperate. Pete's Dad ran to the garage and came back with a box of tools, where he started to take the hinges off the door. Pete thought it was a bit over the top, after all, Patrick could just cry if he wanted.
"NO NO NO!" Patrick screamed, followed by a few loud crashes. Pete's Dad worked faster. Pete hesitantly ran around the corner, but making sure he could still see what was going on.
When the door finally came off it's hinges, Pete's Mom tried her best to calm Patrick down. He was screaming, crying, and running into the walls, banging his head against them. Pete's Dad just tried to hold him still.
"Shh. Shh. It's okay Pattycakes. You're safe." Pete's Mom soothed. "Shhhh."
"Nobody's gonna hurt you bud." Pete's Dad added. "You're safe."
But Patrick didn't calm down. In fact, he only seemed to be getting worse.
"What do we do, Gale?!"
"I don't know Peter! It's Christmas! There's not really anyone we can call!"
Patrick's wails got louder as he tried to get out of Pete's Dad's grip.
"The hospital." Pete's Mom whispered, taking Patrick into her own arms. "Patty, honey, we're gonna go for a little drive now, okay?"
Patrick wailed and kicked and screamed and tried to bang his head against things for the entire walk to the car. Pete's Mom buckled him in, and quickly drove off.
Pete just stared. What on earth had just happened?
YOU ARE READING
Troubled Soul || Fall Out Boy
Fanfiction"So why doesn't he go to school?" Andy asked. "I think he's just too weird." Pete replied. Pete's parents have a new kid. A weird kid. A kid who always looks likes he's going to cry and walks funny. A foster kid. Pete doesn't like him. Not at all.
