I'm the Secret You'll Swear to Keep

/Seven/

"Calm down!" Pete holds Patrick's face in his hands. The constant red flashing makes the blue in Patrick's eyes pale. He's scared out of his wits.

Around five in the morning, the alarm sounded. It's a shrill beeping accompanied by flashing red lights. It means someone or something has made it past guards and broken into the building. All agents on call.

"I want you to hide, okay?" Pete walks away to the bedside table, opening the drawer to give Patrick a gun. "Use this if anyone comes in. Lock the door after I leave and don't open it for anyone."

"What about--"

"I have a key. If I want to get in, I will. I don't care if I'm screaming to get in, you do not let me in. Do you understand me?"

Patrick stares at the cold metal in his hands with teary eyes. Pete tilts his chin up, and he's forced to look at the whiskey eyes. They're wild and exhausted. They're pumped and wary. They're annoyed and patient. But somewhere deep in the irises, they're protective and scared.

"Do you understand me?"

Patrick nods.

Pete grabs some ammo and guns, sliding them in his pockets. The two had fallen asleep dressed, so he has some places to hold it. He slips knives in his boots before turning to Patrick once more. His lips briefly connect with Patrick's, and for a moment everything goes silent. It's beautiful. The shrieking alarm silences and the brutal lights dim. But when Pete pulls away, it all floods back. Pete scans Patrick before leaving.

Like instructed, Patrick locks the door. He holds the gun to his chest as he scans the room for a place to hide. The bed had a small enough space for him to slide under. The sheets dip low to mask him.

It's scary, the alarms still squawk and Patrick wants to cry. Pete promised him he's safe, but he wants nothing more than to go home. It feels like forever, lots of yelling and footsteps outside the door. Once and a while, the handle jiggles and Patrick has to bite his lip go avoid screaming. Finally, the alarm stops. Pete's room goes dim again, and the only noise is Patrick's heavy breathing.

He inches to the sheets, anxiously awaiting Pete to return. The mechanical click and the door popping open draws Patrick out. Pete's out of breath, but he still shuts the door and extends his arms out.

Patrick gladly accepts the opportunity to collapse into Pete, unleashing the pent up panicked sobs.

"It's okay," Pete rests his cheek to Patrick's head. "You're safe. It's over." He begins to lead Patrick to the bed, sitting the shorter down.

"You did great, Patrick. I'm proud of you. It was great practice."

"Pr-Practice?" Patrick rubs his eyes.

"It was a drill. We practice them a lot."

"Why di-didn't you st-stay?"

"Because we aren't told when they're drills or real. Keeps us on our toes."

"I-I was scared."

"I know, I would be too. But it's okay, you're safe."

"I didn't fe-e-el safe. What's the diff-iffernce between here and my house?"

"Because at your house anyone can get to you anytime. Here, there are a lot of people protecting you. We've trained since fifteen to be agents."

"Is it all safe now?" Patrick wipes his face.

Pete smiles. "Yeah, it is. Do you want to go back to bed?"

"I don't think I can." He frowns.

Pete looks at the time. It's roughly six now. "How about we take a little tour around the building? You'll get to meet people and see where you'll be staying. I think it would make you more comfortable."