New Year - Sequel to Mistletoe

April 1, 2015

Patrick

Darkness. That's all I saw. I'd forgotten everything. Nothing mattered. Then it went away. It all went away, and I could feel myself waking up, and I tried desperately to stay where I was. I failed. My eyes opened, and I immediately shut them again. Too bright. Too much white.

But then I remembered. I was supposed to die. I opened my eyes to see Brendon directly in front of me. I sat up immediately, and he gave me a small smile. "Morning, sunshine." He whispered quietly, and I could hear the beeping of the machines by my hospital bed.

I should have died. I stared at him for a moment, then I shook my head. He looked confused, and I started crying. "No, no, no, no, no!" I cried out, and he stared at me. I pounded my fists on his chest as he just stood there, staring at me with a heartbroken look. Seeing my condition. "Why didn't you let me die?!" He didn't say anything, instead just standing there as I hit my fists on his chest, tears falling down my cheeks.

"Let me die!" I screamed, and my sobs grew violent as I kept hitting him. Then I heard Ryan's quiet voice. "Patrick." I almost didn't hear it, and I stopped hitting Brendon, staring at the dull white tiles on the ground. I completely stopped. No crying. No yelling. No hitting. I was eerily calm.

I was broken.

I could hear Brendon's whisper. "Look at me, Patrick. Please." I slowly looked up at him, expressionless. "You'll be okay, alright?" He whispered, looking into my eyes. I slowly nodded, not saying anything.

Then I looked around the room. Generic white walls, tiled floors. Brendon sat on a chair beside my bed. The machine tracking my heartbeat was steady. I assumed they'd pumped my stomach. Ryan was sitting in a chair in the back of the room, quietly gazing at me. Then I looked to his left.

And I saw Pete. He looked tired. Not as bad as me, though. But really, he looked alarmed. He'd seen what I'd become. Thin, sickly, and broken. He'd seen what I'd just done. He saw how much I wanted to be dead. And he looked a bit scared.

But maybe that was because of my reaction to seeing him. I instantly glared, staring straight at him as if maybe, if I stared hard enough, he could disappear forever. My face instantly grew chilling, and I could tell he was scared. But he still spoke quietly.

"Hey, Pattycakes." And that was when I broke. That was when I stopped glaring. My expression broke, and I looked away from him immediately. Brendon sent a glare towards Pete as tears started to well up in my eyes. "You really had to fucking call him that? Smart thinking, asshole." Brendon snapped. Pete quietly answered, "I-I'm sorry, I just thought-" and Brendon gave a mock laugh. "Oh, you just thought?"

I started silently crying and Ryan noticed, turning to the others. "Brendon," he quietly said, "drop it. The kid is crying." Brendon turned to me, all the hate on his face replaced with concern and care. "Don't cry, Patrick." He mumbled, wrapping his arms around me as I buried my face in his shoulder, sobbing silently into it and soaking his shirt in tears.

He held me like that for awhile, rubbing my back as I could feel Ryan and Pete awkwardly looking at us. Ryan then got up, and ushered Brendon away. "You and Pete, go in the hallway if you need to talk. Got it? He doesn't need this right now." He whispered, probably thinking I couldn't hear him.

Brendon nodded, then him and Pete both went into the hallway as Ryan sat on the edge of my bed, sadly looking over at me as I stared at him. Then he quietly started talking. "You'll be okay, Patrick. Everything will be okay, I promise." I whispered out, my voice hoarse, "W-Why is he here?"

He sighed, looking down. "I'll tell you in a second, but first you need to know something." I nodded, beckoning him to continue. "Brendon is angry at Pete. Which is reasonable, for what he did to you. But you should have seen Pete the night you overdosed." My eyebrows furrowed. "Why?" "Because I've never seen anyone that frantic for anybody. I've never seen anyone care that much for anybody."

"C-Care? What do you-" "Patrick, he ran to our house at three in the morning in ten minutes, if not less, then practically broke our door down screaming your name and trying desperately to get in and help you."
I didn't reply as he went on. "No matter what happened between you two, you can't deny that he cares a whole fucking lot about you," he sighed, "Brendon just wants his old best friend back, and in his opinion, Pete is the one who took him away from him."

I looked down as he quietly said, "But that's just what I think of all this. Pete's here because he cares about you." "Don't lie." I choked out, but then he cut me off. "I'm not. He'll tell you himself if you give him the chance." I didn't say anything after he said that, and he pulled me into a hug. "Brendon just doesn't want to give him another chance because he's afraid he'll break you again. But I don't think that will happen."

"How do you know?" "Because he told me what really happened at the Christmas party." I stared at him. "What do you mean? He kissed Mikey." He just smiled sadly. "Let him tell you what happened. Then you'll understand, okay?"

"O-Okay."