Don't Tell

Chapter 12: Life Is A Path

Petes Pov

I watched as Carly closed her eyes. I went into panic mode (no pun intended) I can't lose both of them. Not now. Not ever.

Patrick was breathing again. That's it. Shallow, irregular breaths escaped his mouth. That's it. He's still dying. I know it. I won't believe it though. I refuse to believe that my best friend is going to leave this earth for some imaginary cloud of afterlife.

Carly was also taken to the hospital. I watched them take her away as well. It wasn't her fault. She couldn't help it. But me, I just sat there and watched. I watched her panic. I watched her wheeze. I watched like a deer in the headlights. I just sat there, helpless to the world.

My phone was in my hands now. I was dreading the phone call to Andy.

I hit call and it rang a few times.

"Hello?" Andy's voice rang through the tinny speaker. The syllables rolled off his tongue slowly as if he thought each of them out as they were spat out of his body.

"Andy?" I asked. My tone suggested that something was wrong. The way my voice shook with each word that I spoke.

"Pete? Is he okay?" His concerned voice crushed me. I didn't want to tell him.

"Pete?" His voice snapped me out of my worried daze. I hesitated again. "Oh god,"

"Andy, I-I don't know. I don't know if anything is okay. Patrick sure as hell isn't..." My voice trailed off.

"Pete... what happened?"

I gulped. "Patrick is basically dead. The only improvement he's made is breathing abnormally. They have him on life support. Carly had a panic attack and I'm gonna completely lose it."

"First, which hospital? Second, what do you mean Carly had a panic attack?

"St. David's off of 8th and 35. And Carly had a really bad panic attack. Her asthma was acting up and she could barely breathe. She passed out and they're taking her too."

The line was silent for a second, then Andy spoke. "Meet me there. I gotta help Sarah." Sarah traveled in a wheelchair because of an accident, but That's another story.

"Okay," Pain was audible in my voice.

Joe looked at me. "I'll drive," He mumbled.

---time lapse---

We parked in the parking lot. I was reluctant to get out of the car. Carly should be fine. Patrick is a different story.

"Pete?" I jumped as Joes voice rang through the car.

"Y-yeah?" I looked at him. That same crack of pain rumbled in my throat.

"You sure you want to go?" He looked concerned. He knew I had a special bond with Patrick. In a way, Peterick is real. Not as a relationship or anything. More of inseparable best friends type of thing.

"Yeah..." I looked down. "I have to know how they are."

"Okay...." Joe eyed me.

We got out of the car and started towards the hospital. I gulped as the automatic doors spread open, blasting a wave of cool air over us. I didn't know I was crying until Joe looked at me.

"You okay?" He asked.

I shook my head. All the worst case scenarios were playing out in my head. Paralyzation. Death. Mental illness.

Joe pulled me into a hug. "They'll be fine."

He pulled away and walked towards the reception desk. He asked the receptionist, from what I'm assuming, what they knew.

He walked away and came back to me. "Patrick is alive. He's still in surgery. but they put Carly in room 312. Apparently they needed to run some tests because of blood abnormalities."

I nodded. We walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

The ride up there was unusually long.

We got to the third floor and searched for 312. It was surprisingly really easy to find.

I knocked in the door and turned the knob. Carly looked up, "Hey," Her voice cracked.

"Hey," Joe and I smiled.

"I wanna get out of here." she looked down.

"Why are they keeping you anyway?"

"I've got a fucking headache and my side hurts. They said that something in my blood was weird. It could have been a mix up. Ugh. Get me out of this hell hole."

We heard the door open and my head whipped around. It was Andy and Sarah.

Carly looked at her brother with tears eyes before looking down again.

He walked up to her. He looked tense. He brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'm sure he'll be fine," He plastered a fake smile on his face.

"I know you're lying." She looked at him.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and looked at Sarah. "How bad was it? She whispered.

"Pretty bad." I don't know why, but I took a photo. I pressed the gallery icon on my phone and the gruesome sight of my bloody best friend in Carly's arms greeted me. I turned it to her and she gasped. She looked down. I saw a tear drop onto the floor.

Just then I got a text from Brendon. Brendon Urie. Shit. We should've called him. I guessing the paparazzi is all over us right now.

I opened the message.

Brendon: Pete. Tell me what the fuck happened? Why is Patrick being carried out of a fucking abandoned apartment on a stretcher? Why is he all bloody? Why the hell does he look dead? Why is it plastered all over television?

I began typing.

Me: I'm so sorry I didn't call you when he was kidnapped. It slipped my mind.

I sent it and my phone vibrated again about 30 seconds later.

Brendon: WHAT THE FUCK?!?! KIDNAPPED?! Peter, you have some serious explaining to do. And I'm telling Dallon and Spencer.

Me: So this guy that Carly raped wants to hurt her because she told us. So he kidnapped Patrick and tried to kill him and use him as bait for Carly. And for all we know, he succeeded.

Brendon: Shit. You need to update me as soon as you know anything.

Me: Okay.

I looked down. Part of me wanted to believe, but part of me knew that was a lie.

--a/n--

Omg I would have updated sooner but I had a little incident and my iPod got fucked up for a day. 😋😨😋 So I'm rlly sorry.

Dedicated to Davina890 for being totally fobsessed with my story. Ily all tho.

I love you my carcrashovercastyoungbloods

-Emily aka foblvr