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when it rains

petekey/based off of when it rains by paramore (obviously.) trigger warning for suicide & mental health in this oneshot!!! i suggest not reading if you're in a bad mental state. atm i am and this sort of helps me cope. i hope your quarantine is going well! [set during bp era (2006).]

pete's pov

Everything was perfect.

Midnight kisses that would turn into passionate sex, only ending as the sun began to rise.

Fingers intertwined at a local concert venue in town, trying not to lose eachother in the pit.

Words that we knew we wouldn't take back because we thought we'd be together forever in this shitty little apartment of ours.

I would've said and done so much more only if I knew that our time together would be cut drastically short.

I didn't even see it coming. I should have, but I didn't.

I never picked up on the little things.

When he'd be in the bathroom for almost an hour, and I could faintly hear him crying. I asked him what was wrong, and he would say that he didn't feel good.

How he gradually lost interest in performing on stage, sleeping all the time and feeling like everyone hated him. I'd tell him I felt that way too sometimes, but to just ignore it.

The comments he'd make about his body or his face, saying he hated all of it, and I'd shower him with kisses and compliments hoping he'd realize that he was perfect.

He would eat little to nothing for days, and I'd assume he just forgot or that he eventually would.

Or the razor that was tucked far into his pillowcase that I only found after the incident.

I could've helped Mikey.

He would confide in me when he could, but I could always tell that he was withholding something.

I didn't try to push it, but I should have. If I did, I wouldn't be here standing in front of his casket staring down at his cold, lifeless body.

I can't help but feel like it was all my fault.

I brushed off all of the little things and didn't try to give extra help. If I did, he'd still be here and I'd still be able to kiss him and hold him and give him all of the love in the world.

But I can't. He's fucking dead. He chose not to stay with me and- it is all my fault.

If I could switch the roles right now, and instead of Mikey lying in the casket it would be me, I'd do it without hesitation.

It happened only a month ago and I still haven't fully processed his death.

September 28th.

Gabe had invited me over for drinks with a few other friends. Before I left to go see him, Mikey had told me he loved me. I said it back- of course- and didn't think much of it because he always said I love you. But there was something different in his tone; something was wrong. And I ignored it.

I left for about an hour. During that hour I got 2 texts from Mikey, 20 minutes apart. The first came when I'd just arrived at Gabe's house.

mikey : i love you pete
9:08 pm

me : love you too. everything alright?
9:09 pm

mikey : yeah.
9:09 pm

me : okay. c u ltr babe :-)
9:12 pm

I thought he could've just been worried.

The last one hurts to read, but I go through our conversations every night anyway, not wanting to lose them because I've already lost Mikey.

mikey : having fun?
9:30 pm

me : yeah! why didn't u come along?
9:32 pm

mikey : tired.
9:32 pm

me : oh :( try and get some rest, ok? maybe we can do something tomorrow.
9:33 pm

mikey : i love you.
9:35 pm

pete : i love u more.
9:35 pm

No more texts came after those. He seemed off, but I thought he was just tired.

When I got home, all of the lights were off. All besides the bathroom light.

I walked over to the bathroom curiously and peered in.

And I swear I felt my heart stop right then and there.

He was slouched against the sink, bloody with a pill bottle next to his arm.

I ended up screaming and crying seconds after, unable to breathe. I held him in my arms as I called 911, not caring if his blood got on me, which it did. It got all over my clothes, and now they're tucked in the back of my closet because I'm too afraid to throw them away.

While I waited for the ambulance to arrive, I wrapped his arms in towels and tried to get him breathing again, but to no avail.

I've gotten barely any sleep since then.

I can only think about his lifeless body on the floor bleeding, and when I am able to sleep, I wake up in a cold sweat and in tears because I only have nightmares about him.

I wish I would've gotten home earlier. Found him before he swallowed the pills and slashed his wrists. But I took my sweet time, and I feel fucking awful about it.

I think Gerard hates me now. And Frank. And Ray. Everyone. Gabe tries to tell me that it wasn't my fault and I couldn't have stopped it, but he's wrong. If only it went differently.

I even bought him a ring.

No, we legally couldn't have gotten married. But I don't care about any of that legal shit. I still could've made him my husband. Maybe if I proposed sooner.

I'll be in love with Mikey for the rest of my life, even if he's dead now. He'll always be the one for me, and nothing can change that.

We were supposed to be forever.

And we will be.

I walk away from the casket.

One day, I'll die. That usually scares most people, but me, it's comforting. I'll see him, the love of my life, and I'll be happy.

That day could be tomorrow or 30 years, and either way I'll see him. I'll never forget him. And I'll never replace him.