Pure fluff, tw: mentions of suicide and depression
∆after ab/ap but before mania era∆
×this is technically true. obviously not the dialogue and stuff but Pete's Suicide attempt and the place happened×
∆still glad he's still here thanks to Patrick∆
×also sorry how this chapter is set up. . .this dumb phone wouldn't let me put it normally. . .I'll try to fix it later×
×××
"I'm only curious because I used to always want to die and attempted suicide a million fucking times and you stopped me every single time. You've. . .made me think twice, honestly." Patrick allows Pete to continue talking while he runs his hand through his growing dark brown hair that seem to have dyed blond hair hiding in between.
"Martin, I know I'm bipolar and all this stupid shit and me instead of using my pills to medicate me in the right way I decided to want to let it. . . Kill me. Why. . . didn't you let me die?" Pete glanced up at Patrick - his head is lying on the fedora-covered-hat man's lap.
Patrick raised a brow, "do you really want me to answer that question? I don't think I should or have to. It's obvious enough innit? If I had let you die, we've would've never had this moment right here, I would've never been happy without my best friend, we would have never started planning another incredible album; And you would've never had your first child, would've never done anything anymore. Death is permanent, Pete. You know that, right? You're killing yourself over a temporary situation that you know will get better. You just have to keep fighting and look at you now, aren't you better? You seem happier to me than you were 8 years ago where left and right I was trying to save you." He took a pause to breathe and Pete was beginning to form a tear at the side of his eyes.
"Remember that night we were touring for Folie and in the hotel, you ran out on me without telling me your whereabouts first and I spent my entire leftover energy trying to find you. But I knee the only place you know I would've have looked at was the roof of this hotel. I also noticed your bag had your medication pocket opened. . . I knew what you were going to do and I was not going to loose my best friend that night. I went up to the roof and talked you both of overdosing and or jumping off the roof. If I had lost you, Pete, that night. . .how was I supposed to tell Joe and Andy, who also care so much about you. The fans ! How? There's not even a right way to do it but to just say it. Would you really have expected me to show up to the concert and come up with the excuse that you were sick? No, I would've had to say you. . . Died--" Patrick's voice cracked.
He sniffed, looking away for just a moment before glancing back at the now full of tears Pete. Pete sits up and in shame, put his head down.
"I'm so glad to have you as my best friend. Even though your ass can be overbearing with your. . .sassiness--" Pete choked a little on his chuckle, making Patrick snicker too. "But, you're an incredible person and without you I. . .I probably wouldn't be here anymore." Pete shook his head, coughing and sniffing thereafter.
As if on automatic, they turned towards each other and hugged for such a long time they could E practically fallen asleep on one another then and there. They pulled back and Patrick sat back, gesturing for Pete to lay his head on his shoulder and so he did, both of them staring at the black of a screen that reflected their faces which was the television.
