I Want To Stop Hurting

Entry 4: Sticks, Stones, And Drums Break Bones

Patrick's POV.

As the cloud-covered daylight making it's way groggily into my room from the window, it was morning. My eyes opened slowly as I took a deep breath and let out a sigh, finding myself still laying next to Pete, still nuzzled into his chest with his arms still around my itty bitty self protectively. I smirked slightly, happy he didn't leave. Kind of depressing seeing that someone who was with you when you fell asleep had disappeared once you woke up in the morning. Seeing Pete hadn't up and gone on his merry way somewhere else gave me a reason to keep faith in the few people who were still around me when I needed them to confide in. I needed people I wasn't scared to cry in front of, people I could talk to about what was happening to me and they'd keep it secret, not flail it around like a fashion trend. These were those people.

Trying to wriggle out of Pete's grasp to go check and see where Andrew and Joseph were, I realized it was a no-go mission impossible attempt. Not only was Peter stronger than me, I found that our legs were tangled together. In a way that would surely be a task and a half to undo. Not to mention I didn't want to wake Pete at who knows how early in the morning. I tried again to escape my somewhat confinement, and I accidentally hit the back of Peter's leg, and I prayed it wouldn't disturb him. He squirmed, but didn't open his eyes or speak, so I assumed he was still asleep in his own little dream land.

"What are you trying to do here, 'Trick?" Pete mumbled as I shifted in his arms again. Damn, I woke him up... His insomnia is going to murder me...

"U-um, I-I was, uh, just, ya know, trying to um, get up..." I stuttered back at him. Instead of being grumbly and unamused, he giggled at my idiotic inability to form words correctly.

"Well you could have just said so, I've been up for about ten minutes already."

"I can't exactly see your face, Panda. I wouldn't know that."

"Okay, fair enough," he declared, unhooking his legs from mine and releasing his arms from around me. I looked up at him and saw his eyes open, looking down at me and grinning like a child.

"What?" I quizzed. "What are you smiling for?"

"You're a dork," Pete answered, ruffling my hair with his hand as I went to sit up on my bed.

"Depending on what context you're using, I'm sure I could be..."

"Don't think like that, 'Trick. It's not gonna get you anywhere or anything but down."

Before I could try to respond, there was a thud from downstairs and yelling. Joe and Andy surely. I heard Joe shouting cuss words at Andy, which cause Pete to get up and jog over to the door, opening it and calling out to them.

"Joe? Andy? You guys okay?" Pete questioned.

"Andrew John Hurley, you're so gonna get it!" Joe hollered, ignoring Pete.

"Joseph Mark Trohman, I'm too pretty to be brutally tackled! Go away! No!" Andy yelled back at him, their footfalls scurrying throughout the dowstairs portion of my house.

Pete sighed exaggeratedly and turned back to me as I stayed sitting on my bed with my legs crossed in front of me.

"Care to join me?" he asked.

"Before they destroy the studio? Sure," I responded, getting up. I heard a loud crash followed by the sound of symbols and my eyes widened, realizing it was too late.

Pete and I booked it down the stairs and to the studio, only to find Joe laughing so much it hurt, and Andrew laying on the ground near his drums, holding his ankle and whining.

"Guys, what the hell!?" I shouted. "What did you do!?"

Joe was the first to speak up. "Andy pushed me off the couch and I started chasing him, he ran in here and tripped on your acoustic, sending himself flying over his drums and landing on his ankle all weird."

"I think I broke it..." Andy complained.

"Well what happened to my acoustic?"

"It's fine, thanks for having some sort of concern for me over your completely replaceable guitar, Patrick."

"Dammit, Andy... How bad is it?" I asked him, crouching by his side as he rolled back and forth on his back.

"On a scale of one to ten, one being no pain and ten being excruciating, I'm going with about thirty with a side of wanting to scream."

"Alrighty," Pete began. "Looks we'll be spending our morning in the Emergency Room..."

Andy groaned in irritation and annoyance. As did Joe, nudging Andy's ankle carelessly with his foot. Andy let out a loud curse word, kicking Joe in the shin with his uninjured foot.

"Dammit, Trohman! Fucking quit!" Andrew yelled, kicking him hard.

"Ow! Andy! What the hell!?"

"Don't do that, you idiot!" I scolded them both. "It's obviously broken, you know not to touch it! I don't know what happened between you two, but you already hurt him once, don't do it more!"

(To Be Continued)