Life On Tour (Peterick Sequel)

And The Poets Are Just Kids Who Didn't Make It

*Warning- mention of depression*

The bus began to drive away sometime around midnight. That was our third and last day at the hotel, and we had just finished our show for that night. Everyone else was exhausted and in their bunk, but Erica and I were still wide-awake as usual.

There was a Harry Potter disc in the DVD player and I answered a few Twitter Q and A questions.

"Patrick?" Erica asked, I still fixated on the TV and body almost frozen. "What do you think we do when we die?" I blinked a few times and processed her odd late night question.

"Umm, I'm guessing the afterlife, I've never really thought about it before. Why?" Her gaze broke from the screen and she fiddled with her thumbs.

"I don't know..." Her voice got quieter than it already was. "I've just been thinking." My body shot up from it's laying position on the couch.

"Why? Is there something going on? Are you alright?" I was silently hoping to myself that she wasn't going through what some teenagers do.

"No, no! Every once and a while I get those deep thoughts and kind of get stuck. It's just...well I had a baby brother a few years back but he was extremely premature so he passed away only a few months after he was born." I could see the tears welling in her eyes and I opened up my arms when she looked up

"C'mere," I said in a whisper. She got up from the couch and crawled into my lap and began to sob. "Shh, I'm so sorry Erica. Shh...you're okay, I'm here." I wrapped my arm tight around her and use my other hand to stroke her back as she cried.

Erica ended up falling asleep in my grasp, so I took her off to the bunks. I was careful not to wake up Joe or Andy, and I quietly went back to the living room and turned off the TV before saying a quick good night to our driver.

I stepped into the back bedroom, slowly closing the door behind me and stripping down to my boxers. Pete's eyes fluttered open when I lifted the white covers and slid onto the bed.

"Oh God I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No don't worry about it, I was just dozing. But is everything alright? I thought I heard some crying."

I sighed at the predicted question and Pete's expression became slightly more worried.

"Erica asked me what I thought we did after we died. I told her that I thought we had an afterlife, but that I never really thought about it much. I first assumed that she was having, you know, problems, but she clarified and said that her baby brother was premature and died a few years ago and her mind just got stuck." I paused to clear my throat. "She cried for little while and she fell asleep on the couch next to me. I'm hoping she'll be better by morning, but if not I'll make sure to let the other guys know that she may be a little sensitive or upset."

Pete nodded and hesitated before replying, most likely taking in the story.

"Maybe I could help her," he finally said. "You said that she told you she got 'stuck' on the thought of the afterlife, and I used to also. When I was, depressed..." Pete stopped and looked up at the dark ceiling, blinking back the oncoming tears. "...that's what I would think about a lot. I would get lost inside my head and be trapped there for a really long time. Sometimes Ashlee would find me curled up on the bedroom floor, zoned out of everything. And if I forgot to take my anxiety medicine it was even worse because a lot of times I would have a panic attack along with it. Then all of that lead up to..." Tears were spilling from his eyes, and my cheeks were wet along with his.

"Stop," I choked through tears. "I don't want to think about how we could've lost you." I cried into his bare chest and his body shook with his sobs.

I stayed clinging to him until neither of us could cry anymore and our eyes were blood red and burning. My sniffles died down and I rested my chin on his chest to look up at him. He gave me a small smile that made my cheeks flush in the corners of my lips turn up back.

"I love you," he whispered, voice still vaguely horse.

"I love you too Pete." I leaned up and pecked his lips before falling asleep.

---------

Patrick- {You okay?}

Erica- {Yeah, thanks for last night. I just needed somebody to be there for me. Sorry if I bothered you.}

Patrick- {No stop! You didn't! I'm sorry for your loss and I'm glad you were able to tell me what happened.}

{And I hope you don't mind, but Pete knows about it. I told him because he was very concerned on why he heard crying last night.}

Erica- {I know. And it's alright that you told him, we talked this morning and I think it really helped.}

{And you might want to come out before you have to make more coffee.}

I groaned and rolled toward the empty side of the bed. My fingers punched in Pete's cell number and it rang for a few moments before his confused voice picked up.

"Hello?"

"Will you be wonderful and bring me some coffee please?"

"Okay fine," he said, drawing out his answer sarcastically and hanging up.

I heard a little commotion from the front of the bus and Pete soon opened the door, stopping in his tracks for a moment, then continued in closing it behind him.

"What?" I asked him, confused of the hesitation.

"Sorry, you just looked really hot like that and it caught me off guard." He put down the warm mug and I smirked at his complement.

"What? Am I not hot all the time?" I said sarcastically.

"Of course you are babe." Pete climbed on top of me on the bed and cupped my face before kissing me slow. I licked his bottom lip and he parted his mouth to let my tongue in. I could feel Pete smiling through the kiss as my tongue danced around and explored his mouth, licking around every crevice and his teeth. He pulled away, grinning to himself and giving me a peck on the nose.

"Erica told me you talked to her?" I half-asked, knowing the answer but still wanting details.

"Yeah," he told me. "Before anyone else was up, I told her about how I was depressed and all and how I got through those bad thoughts. She said that she was happy you spoke to me about it because I gave her some advice and apparently it really helped."

I smiled at his descriptive story and spoke again.

"What can I say?" I bragged to myself. "I'm a miracle worker, I fix everything."

Pete smirked. "Then if you can 'fix everything,' can you fix something for me?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"My raging boner."