Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 20

        I sat in the back row of the van next to Pete with Andy and Joe on the row in front of us. My boyfriend appeared to be too busy writing in that notebook to even notice us climb into the van. I hadn't even seen him look up when the door opened. He didn't have headphones in; he was just tuning everything out.

        I was used to his "leave me alone, I've got to write before I lose this" attitude surfacing occasionally (that was how he'd written many of our favorite songs of ours, after all), but it had never been this long or even this intense. Pete wasn't one that had an easy time blocking everything out normally, but damn was he focused.

        He'll usually see some sense in my suggestions, too. When I told him he needed sleep, he'd denied it to the point that he had gotten angry about it and stormed out.

        Maybe that's what his attitude right now was about: maybe he was still mad at me over that and was only pretending to not notice my entrance.

        Or maybe I was just over thinking all this.

        Our manager began briefing us on what was going to happen today as soon as the door slid shut and the van took off down the road, turning around in his seat at the front to face us. 3 blank stares met him, absorbing the information but tuning out as much as possible. The fourth hadn't even looked up from his notebook still.

        "Pete," he said, trying to get his attention as if we were back in high school and our manager was the teacher, Pete the delinquent student.

        When he didn't look up, he repeated his name, louder and more forcefully. "Pete!"

        Again, no response.

        "Dammit, Pete," he said almost as a sigh, shaking his head. "Patrick, fill him in when he decides he's going to look up from that fucking notebook."

        "I'll try but I don't think he's in the mood to respond to anybody," I told him, an eyebrow cocked as if to say yeah, like I can do that.

        "Then let him have no fucking clue what's going on. I don't give a shit," he said me, throwing his hands up in frustration as he turned back around in his seat.

        I hesitated a moment or two before reaching over and poking him in the arm with my pointer finger. "Pete," I almost called, poking him again. "Hey Pete."

        There was no response, he just kept writing in that damn notebook.

        "Peeeete," I said, dragging out his name. My finger connected with his arm every time I spoke, but still I received no response.

        "Pete Wentz."

        Nothing.

        "Petey Pie."

        Nope.

        "Do you want any pizza?"

        Nada.

        "Peter."

        Nothing I tried worked so I just gave up, Andy and Joe having been laughing at me the entire time.

        "So, was that an actual offer for pizza or...?" Joe asked, a cautiously hopeful tone to his voice as he turned slightly in his seat to face me.

        I just smiled softly, shaking my head, and admitting, "Nope, just trying to get his attention."

        "Dammit," he muttered in disappointment as he turned back around in his seat.

        I shook my head at him, turning to look out the window and resting my chin in my hand. This is going to be a long drive. Being the idiot I am, I'd forgotten to plug my iPod in last night, so I couldn't even plug some headphones in to pass the time. Normally I'd borrow Pete's, but considering the fact that he wasn't responding, that was out of the question.

        I don't know what had gotten into him lately. He'd been just downright crazy: not sleeping and always writing, but he didn't see anything as being wrong. Ask him, and he's perfectly fine, better than normal even, and I think that's what worried me most.

        I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped on the Safari icon, figuring a quick Google search couldn't hurt things.

        Causes of lack of sleep and an increase in productivity, but they think they're fine

        I hit return and a moment later, the results loaded, sliding onto the screen. The first link looked promising so I tapped it, watching as the blue bar slid across the screen, showing the loading process. Way too slowly it moved, slinking across until it finally reached the other side and disappeared, the web page fully loaded.

        The headline scared me to death because I thought Pete had gotten that under control a long time ago. It hadn't crossed my mind as a possibility because it never caused problems for him anymore. Elevated mood, a need for constant activity, no need for sleep, increased productivity and desire to create, irritability, hypersexuality...It fit and I didn't like it at all.

        What a Hypomanic Bipolar Episode Consists Of

A/N: For those of you who are wondering and didn't see the status I posted about it, the date went pretty well.