April 1, 2015

21 0 0

by cairbu

by cairbu

Pete

"You," Brendon spat out as soon as he closed the hospital door behind us, "are the biggest fucking asshole I've ever met." I just looked at him, staying quiet as he went on angrily. "The person in that hospital bed is not the same person you met all those months ago," I could hear the venom in his voice, "You are the fucking scum that broke him." "I-I know." I muttered quietly.

"Do you? Do you know? I spent countless hours, countless days trying my very hardest to get through to him. Ryan has spent countless days trying to heal what's left of him, after you threw him away and broke him. I have spent weeks of my life caring for him, being there for him, doing anything I can to help him in any possible way." He sent me a chilling glare. "And where were you?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut me off. "Do you know how many nights I would hear him sobbing in his room? He thought we couldn't hear him, if only he knew. What about when he actually fell asleep? He'd call your name, you know." My eyes widened. "H-He did?" Brendon rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately." He sent me another glare. "Then again, he never slept. He never ate. That boy looks like a skeleton because of you."

I could feel my heart breaking more and more with every word he spat out. The anger in his voice was equivalent to the amount of hurt I felt. Hurt for Patrick. The boy I still loved. "If he hadn't overdosed, he would have starved to death first." Brendon said, almost defeated. Like he was done yelling. Like he didn't know what else to say.

He just looked at me. And I looked back at him. "He's changed, Pete." He whispered, no longer angry. "He wants to die." I mumbled back, my eyes starting to water. Brendon shook his head. "No, he doesn't. You know what he wants?" I shook my head. "He wants the torment to stop. You torment him, Pete. Constantly. The very thought of you torments him, but you're all he thinks about. And it won't stop." I was speechless.

Then Brendon spoke softly. "But I'm willing to give you another chance, if he is. If he decides to let you in, then I trust you to fix him." "Y-You do?" I whispered, staring at him. "I'm angry at you, Pete. I'm beyond furious. But if you fix him, then you're doing everyone a favor. You're bringing the old Patrick back. And, honestly?" He paused. "You're the only one that can."

I just looked at him. Then Ryan opened the door, coming out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. He first glared at Brendon. "That was uncalled for. He just woke up, you didn't need to start yelling the moment Pete said anything." Brendon just looked at the ground. Ryan turned to me. "He didn't want you here." "I know." I whispered. "But," Ryan continued, "I told him what happened the night he overdosed. He's not going to forgive you, Pete. Not yet. But he knows what you did for him."

Brendon's voice cut the silence that followed Ryan's words. "They need to talk. Alone." My eyes widened. "He won't want to. He hates me." Ryan scoffed. "He overdosed because he hates himself. For everything. He's in love with you, Pete. But he was convinced you didn't feel anything for him." "For god's sake, just talk to him!" Brendon exclaimed, glaring at me. Then his facial expression softened slightly. "Bring him back."

Ryan turned to me. "We'll be here, if something happens, come get us or a nurse." I nodded, but then he continued. "Just...tell him what really happened." Brendon's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?" Ryan looked at him. "I'll tell you what really happened at Christmas while they talk. It's about time you knew what really happened."

"I'll tell him." I mumbled, and Ryan sent me a grim smile. Brendon stepped towards me threateningly. "You do anything, anything at all, anything that breaks him further, you're dead." I nodded, staring at the floor. Then I turned. And I opened the door.

Greeted by the gaunt, sick face of the boy I still loved.