Madness of Two ~ a Peterick AU

nine

~trigger warning! Self harm and shit. Thanks for reading this far, it means so much to me. :) ~

Pete heard an even beeping, and opened his heavy eyes to see a white ceiling.
His memory was blurry, but suddenly he remembered what happened. The pills.
The sheets he was tucked between were scratchy and uncomfortable. Cool air conditioning blew against his face. He realised the beeping was a heart monitor. Tubes were hooked into him, and he wore a blue and white hospital gown.
He turned his head to the side. It pounded painfully.
Patrick was seated beside him, eyes red and puffy, fedora between his hands.

"Pete, baby, you're awake!" His voice was weak and a smile broke over his delicately beautiful features. "I - I'm so sorry about what I said, I was angry, I didn't mean it - you were in a bad place, I just ignored it, baby, I'm so sorry... forgive me?"

"Yeah, of course." Pete tested out his scratchy voice. He was too tired to really talk to Patrick about what had happened.  "How long was I asleep?"

"Three days." Patrick replied.

"Shouldn't my parents be here?"

Patrick looked down. "They, uh... they took off. When they heard what happened to you, they panicked and left. I don't know where they are. I'm sorry." Patrick said. "Your aunt has been here a few times though."

Of course. His aunt June was the only member of his family who actually cared about him. He'd probably move in with her when he was released.
A nurse arrived.

"Hello, Pete, my name is Kenny. Try to get some rest." He said. "You were out for a few days, but we should be able to release you soon. Do you remember what happened?"

The nurse's endless questions were tiring. But Pete was released home to his aunt the next day. She acted cautious around him, like he was made of china and could break at any moment.
Patrick came to see him every day, kissing him softly and laughing quietly with him; but, since Pete had awoken on that first day, he hadn't felt a single thing.

When it was time for Pete to return to school, he feared he was broken. The overdose had broken him, and now he wouldn't be able to feel anything for the rest of his life. Every day he hoped something would penetrate his heart of stone, but nothing - not Patrick, not the bullies, not cutting himself and watching it bleed - ever coaxed an emotion from his apathetic heart.

He put on an act and a smile for Patrick, but he soon came to be bored of the other boy's eagerness, his happiness, his perkiness and clinginess. He almost wished they could go back to the way they were before. None of the moments with him seemed magical any more, Patrick just seemed... whiny, childlike.

Soon Pete found himself trying to avoid their meetings. And he didn't even feel bad at how hurt Patrick seemed. Pete began to talk to Patrick less.

Where had Pete gone? The old him? The one who loved Patrick, and got angry easily? The one who was passionate about his music?

Every night Pete pulled out his penknife and carved a new scar into himself, watching the dark blood trickle out. All in strategic places, so they wouldn't be spotted by anyone. But still, he felt nothing after the initial stab of pain.
Maybe if hurting himself didn't do it, hurting someone else would...
He pushed the thought out of his head, knowing how fucked up it was.

But still, on an impulse, with his fake ID and hood pulled up, he bought a gun out of the back of some guy's car on the street.