/Fourteen/

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Pete and Brendon survey the halls, being sure all threats are secure. It was a raid. A real one.

The top floor is relatively clear, a few half open doors and bloodied bodies.

"Shit," Brendon hisses, both his movement and heart stopping.

It takes Pete a minute to realize his door is splintered and wide open.

Patrick.

Pete sprints to his room, met with somewhat of a mess. A dead bloodhound next to the bed, several bullet casings. The bed is a mess, and some of his drawers are open. The sheets are pulled down over the bottom of the bed. Pete races to it, hoping to see Patrick with a smoking gun beneath it.

It's empty.

It's fucking empty.

Pete lingers longer, hoping his tired eyes deceive him. They don't. He stares at the spot where Patrick should be. The spot where Pete should've been to protect him.

"They got him." Pete stands, clearing his throat. He can't feel his heart, but he's sure it's pounding. "We should inform Laura immediately."

Brendon nods. "We will." He steps forward, reaching out to Pete's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, let's just go tell her." Pete says, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Pete, seriously." Brendon stops his movements. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine, we just ne-need to get to him fast." Pete almost breaks.

Patrick's alone. He's been kidnapped by people with the intent to kill him. He's scared. Pete's an awful boyfriend for not protecting him. He's going to fucking die. Pete should've said I Love You.

Brendon looks on sadly. "Come here." He says at last, pulling Pete to his chest.

That's when Pete breaks, sobbing in Brendon's chest. "It's all my fault, Bren! He's going to die because I left him alone!"

"You did all you could do. It's not your fault." Brendon coos. Pete never cries. It breaks Brendon's heart to see him like this.

"Oh god!" Pete wails, clutching Brendon's shirt.

"He's gonna live, Pete. We'll get him back alive."

The raid will be tonight, not too far after Laura learns Patrick's whereabouts. Pete can't go. He won't. He'd kill himself trying to get revenge.

Whatever they're going to do to Patrick will happen soon. The Bloodhounds want Patrick dead, and he'll surely be dead before sunrise if the Clandestine's don't get to him fast.

"Come back to my room, Pete. Calm down."

It's a ploy to get Ryan to distract Pete while Brendon goes to the raid.

Ryan would give up going to calm down Pete. Laura wouldn't be mad. She would probably keep him back anyways. Brendon makes his way down to Laura's office, prepared to drop the bomb.

~~~

It's cold, and his head pounds. His neck aches from his chin being dropped to his chest. Picking it up hurts just as bad. He's bound to a cold metal chair.  "Wh-Where am I?"

A smiling man looks at him, the same one who drove him to his apartment. Patrick thinks he's heard the name Stephen.

"Hello, Patrick." The man smiles. It's not sweet. It's creepy, controlling, and possessive.

"Wh-What do you want f-from me?" Patrick tries to distances himself but it's impossible with his restraints.

"I just want you."

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