The Do Over (Peterick)

prologue.

"Former major league baseball player Patrick Stump was found dead at age thirty-seven in his Chicago apartment at around midnight last night from a gunshot wound to the head. Stump first gained popularity during his college career with the Washington Huskies and almost doubled the average MLB career, playing for a solid nine years before retiring. Authorities suspect no foul play was involved in his death but haven't ruled it an accidental either. No reports of a suicide note have been released yet, but friends of the All-American catcher have recently come out saying that he had been depressed and anxious these past few months. Stump was proceeded in death by both of his parents, and his survivors include both of his siblings and his twenty year old son, whom Stump found out about just months before his death."

TMZ, 17 AUGUST 2018

—

"Where the fuck am I?" Patrick groans as he sits up, an aching pain in his head.

A man with jet black hair and icy blue eyes pauses the game he's playing and simply says, "Purgatory." He then resumes the game and offers no further explanation.

Patrick stands, walking over to the chair the guy is sitting on to take a closer look at the game he's playing. What Patrick sees has him stumbling backwards and grabbing at his aching head again.

"What the fuck? Is that me?" Patrick almost shouts, watching the screen again.

The man pauses the game, turning to look at him. "Yeah. Just give me a minute to beat the game, and I'll explain more." He turns back, unpausing it.

Sure enough, seconds later, a gunshot erupts into the otherwise quiet room, a CONGRATULATIONS screen flickering after. The guy just beat the game of.. of Patrick's life? By shooting himself in the head.

"Okay. I'm Spencer, call me Spence. Or, like, Satan's right hand man. Or whatever." Spencer waves the comment off and continues. "So, you shot yourself."

"No fucking shit, Sherlock. Why am I not in hell?" Patrick says, and Spencer rolls his eyes.

"Satan and God have this agreement. If you were a good person in your life and got on the wrong track, or whatever, they give you an opportunity to have a second chance. If you do it right, you'll be in heaven when you die. If you do it wrong, you'll be in hell." Spencer explains. "And if you choose to not accept the offer, you'll stay in purgatory until Satan makes his untimely comeback onto Earth."

"Am I dreaming? This all sounds like a load of bullshit. Did I, like, miss an artery, and I'm going to wake up in the hospital in a few hours?" Patrick asks, trying to make some sense out of this whole situation.

Spencer sighs and pulls a phone out of his pocket. He takes a picture of Patrick's face and then shows him the picture.

Sure enough, dried blood is around his eyes and his mouth. Yeah, he's dead. But now they're telling him he went through with killing himself for nothing?

"So what? I'm going to go back to my shitty life? I killed myself for a reason." Patrick says, obviously angry about the whole situation.

"No. You'll go back to what you think of as your biggest regret. You will get a chance to fix what you fucked up the first time." Spencer says, and Patrick's eyes widen.

His mind flashes back to his senior year of high school, which is when his son was conceived. With his boyfriend. Pete.

Pete was the love of his life, Patrick is one hundred percent sure of that. But Patrick chose fame and riches over true love.

"Come with me, I'll show you how Pete has been dealing with your death." Spencer says, as if he's just read Patrick's mind. Maybe he has.

They walk back to the television, and Spencer snaps his fingers. The screen changes to a man with longish brown hair and a big mouth. Pete.

He looks like he hasn't aged a day. And there he is, hugging their son as they both cry. The television in their living room talks about Patrick's death.

Patrick immediately regrets killing himself. He'd always thought Pete hated him, refusing to see him after he'd left for college. But it turns out he was just too hurt to face Patrick.

"So I assume we'll send you back to your freshman year of high school. Pete transferred to your school at the beginning of the year, and you met him while signing up for baseball. He was signing up for theatre." Spencer explains, as if Patrick doesn't already know all of this.

"You're telling me I'm going to go back in time over twenty years?" Patrick asks, a confused look on his face.

"Pretty much. There are only a few rules: one, don't tell anyone about this," Spencer pauses to gesture around. "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't believe you, but still. Don't. Two, try not to fuck up and do the exact same thing you did before. If you do all of this right, you should end up still rich and famous and with the love of your life. And three, I'll be there whenever you have questions. Just go somewhere no one else is around, and say my name three times as if you're trying to summon Satan. Instead, you'll summon me."

"What the fuck? You're just going to, what, snap your fingers? And, boom, I'll be awkward, acne-covered, fifteen year old me?" Patrick asks as if he can't believe it.

"Not exactly.." Spencer trails off, a maniacal look on his face. Patrick's eyebrows furrow, and he takes a step back, Spencer following him. Suddenly, Spencer raises his fist. "I'm really sorry about this."

"About wha-" Before Patrick can finish his question, Spencer's fist has successfully connected with his face, and he sees stars after the punch. Patrick doesn't get a chance to say anything or even fight back because he's falling backwards and seeing nothing but black.

—

prooolooogueeeee

i like this idea tbh.

also expect this to be kind of short. like ten-ish chapters.