Pretty. (Frerard, Petekey, Ryden, Peterick)

38: gerard dyed his hair i am too unstable to think of a chapter name... again

Gee almost felt infuriated by Mikey's insistent need for privacy when talking to Patrick, but Frank had soon distracted him with a grab of his hand and dragging him into the bedroom, and well, Bert, Bert was just left to kind of stand in the kitchen and glare angstily as he complained to himself about the number of teenagers in his house - they scared the living shit out of him or something.

Speaking of shit, Bert decided to go take a shit since he was that bored, and on his way to the toilet he considered actually having a philosophical conversation with Bob Bryar because he'd most definitely been brought down to that level right now.

And as Bert McCracken left the house in favour of actually finding out why the fuck Bob Bryar hadn't answered his phone, Patrick Stump finally felt comfortable speaking.

It wasn’t Mikey, or anyone, honestly, for Patrick it was just the figure in the corner that ensured he kept shaking nervously as he tried and failed to string some form of sentence together.

"Pete." It was one word, but already Mikey was listening intently with everything he had. "This is about Pete, and you're the only person that cares enough about Pete to understand. I guess, I guess I'd usually tell Ryan these kinds of things, but he wouldn't understand like I'm hoping you can."

"It's fine, I'm not going to be an asshole about this: whatever it is, just tell me, okay?" Mikey pulled on a smile and brought his gaze up to meet Patrick's, and perhaps that was just all the encouragement the ginger haired boy needed, or perhaps it wasn't, but what did it really matter?

"Turn around." Patrick instructed, focusing his gaze back upon 'Pete' in the corner of the room, and gesturing to ensure that Mikey was looking in the right spot.

"Yeah?" Mikey asked, looking exactly at Pete, and showing no signs of acknowledgement at all, and just like that, Patrick was about to puke his guts up all over the living room. "What is it?"

"You can't-" Patrick let out a sigh, his whole body shaking a little as he did so. "You can't see him, can you?"

"What?" Mikey turned back to face Patrick, and of course, his expression was laced with confusion and disbelief, much as Patrick had expected, of course, because he knew he was nothing more than screwed up and insane at this point. "See- him- Pete? Pete? I- Patrick-, I-"

"Yeah, I see Pete, I see him there- god, I'm hallucinating him and he won't go away and I... I've gone crazy haven't I, Mikey?" 

Mikey couldn't help but nod, and of course break Patrick's heart as he did so, but honestly, there was just little else that he could do.

"No you haven't." And needless to say, it wasn't Mikey that spoke this time.

"Please tell me you could hear that." Patrick's eyes grew wide: begging and pleading with Mikey at this point, but still, no matter how much Patrick wanted to, and no mattered how hard Mikey tried, he still couldn't bring himself to lie to the boy sat before him.

"No, Patrick, I couldn't hear anything." Mikey let out a sigh, running forward and pulling Patrick into a hug before he could stop himself, and maybe this was what Patrick needed, or maybe it wasn't, it didn't matter, nothing did, especially when Patrick remained so focused upon the figure that wasn't there, because nothing would ever be quite so real as Pete Wentz had been to Patrick Stump.

"Pete, why can't Mikey see you?" Mikey found his face faltering as he pulled away from Patrick and followed his gaze to the nothingness in the corner of the room, and it broke his heart, goddamn, it really did.

"Because he doesn't love me anymore." Pete's response was in no way spiteful, just blunt and strangely unbiased.

Patrick turned to Mikey and almost fucking glared at him, which unnerved the taller of the two, to say the least. "What did he say?"