Logos Naki World - Chapter Ten
Title: Logos Naki World - Chapter Ten
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: Whatever cursing/mention of nudity is...
Summary: Sometimes all it takes
is the worst moments in life to make you realize just exactly what you
would do for something that means the world to you.
Disclaimer: the same as the rest of the chapters...
Notes: Tissues should be handy - there is some serious angst here. This is the very last chapter of Logos. If everyone comments and wants a Post-Logos Series, I shall do my best to deliver.
At least someone gave me a towel. I was sick of sitting around
half-naked for interrogation and normal police crap. I really didn’t
care I was staining the towel. I really didn’t have the control to keep
blood in me. But the scene downstairs was already making me want to
fucking gag. Problem was, I would have ended up gagging on Patrick. I
couldn’t do that to him. Besides, there was enough vomit and blood down
here that was his. We didn’t need anymore.
“The ambulance should be here soon.” Andy sat down on the couch and fumbled with the pair of broken glasses in his hand.
“Hey Andy, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“What happened upstairs?” Truth was, I really did want to know. But I
also wanted someone to say something to pass the time. Something other
than cops really. They were making me uncomfortable. Considering I was
cuffed to the railing near by for a while, I didn’t want to see another
pair of cuffs near me.
“Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Painful stuff.” He looked like he actually took a minute to say that.
“Enlighten me.”
He lifted a free hand to the cut above his left eye, “Look, a cut.”
I know Andy well enough to know that he’s been hanging around Joe too much when he starts doing that.
“Don’t make me say that god damn word man.” Hahaha. NARF. Andy hates me
saying that word. That’s because when I get sugared down that literally
is the only word I EVER say. It drives him fucking nuts.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Wahoo, I knew I’d win! I always do.
“That freaky little girl shoved Patrick down the stairs.” Well that
explained the thumping and the unconscious Patrick. “He wouldn’t let me
follow suit – uh not being pushed down the stairs but go down the
stairs.” He looked like he didn’t remember much, “Don’t remember too
much after that cause I think she hit me hard enough to make me see
stars.” Well I guess that explains it. But not the blood on her hands
when she came down.
“Nothing except that?”
“Does it look like I’d remember something if I was unconcious?”
He does have a point even if it was sarcasm. I can harass him later.
I’ll shut up for everyone now… or maybe not. Sounded like Joe’s talking
to the paramedics upstairs. When they came down, I was kind of half
tempted to hit any of them if they further injured Patrick. It doesn’t
matter if he lapsed into the black bliss of shock sleep or not. I was
having a hard enough time letting anyone besides me near him.
No, I’m not possessive of injured friends who risked their life against real psychos for me.
“Pete, you wanna go with him?” Joe seemed more quiet than usual. He
seemed like the whole thing was bothering him too. We’ll talk on the
way. There’s no way I could go alone.
“Yeah…” I winced as I tried to get up, “You wanna accompany me too?”
“What about Andy? We can have an orgy.”
Oh wow… Joe saying that just… really amuses me. He’s not gay. AT ALL.
It clearly shows because he’s not homophobic, but the idea of seeing
two guys together gives him nightmares. I remembered I tried to get him
to watch the Birdcage once and he literally stayed up for three days
with the comment ‘Can’t sleep Spartacus will eat me.’
It still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t have many girlfriends though.
“Uh… I guess. But I’m gonna have to sit out on all of it. Little Pete’s
out of order. I’ll settle for watching you two go at it. I’m sure it’d
be kinky as fuck.”
“Fuck is what you do.” Ah good ol’ Andy jumping into the conversation. Yay, I’ll get to be extra amused now.
Oh and boy was I right about that. The entire ride there and the
waiting. Holy butt monkeys. The conversations the three of us can have
in a hospital with me in one of the gowns looking like a penguin when I
tried at hell to walk… will forever be memorable. Apparently I’m funny
when I’m doped up on painkillers.
Well the doctor said I had to take 3 every day. Hell one’s enough to
last me for a week. This is why I don’t do drugs. For one, they work
better when they need to and two, I just don’t like having to swallow
HORSE pills. I was traumatized when I was a kid. They were
impossible to swallow back then. They still are now.
Then the good old doctor came back to harass us with probably more bad
news. It’s interesting that no matter how hyper, sugared down or doped
up I can get – the subject of Patrick sobers me up faster than a kick
to the balls.
“Is his immediate family here?”
“I’m the closest you are gonna get buddy.”
“I’m sorry, but if you aren’t family-“
“I’m his en-fucking-gaged boyfriend. Tell me how bad it is.” So I lied.
I can do that. He would be my boyfriend if I wasn’t such a fucking
pussy and just… make a move or something.
I pushed the doctor around the corner so we had privacy. I love the
guys and their support this last couple of hours, but I had to know.
Patrick meant a lot to me. I had to see him.
“He IS alive isn’t he?”
He seemed hesitant. Jesus, he can tell me how bad it is. What the hell could be worse than Patrick being DEAD? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Anything could be better than dead.
“He’ll live, but what he’s gone though hasn’t just left a physical mark, it might leave a psychological mark as well.”
Scars aren’t a problem. Hell, I have a crap load of tattoos. Or maybe they don’t see to be the same thing.
“He’s very lucky the embedded knife didn’t puncture his kidney. He’s
got a lot of stitches on his upper body from the multiple stab-and-drag
wounds. With physical therapy after his tendons have time to completely
recover, he will be able to walk with his right leg.”
“What about his mouth?”
“There will be a lot of scarred tissue in the back of his throat. His
tongue was damaged to the point where he needed stitches. He’s one
lucky man that it wasn’t completely swiped off.”
My insides just flipped over I think. I have to see him. Right now Peter Wentz cares about his best friend more than anything.
“May I see him?”
“He’s sleeping and right now it’s best you come back in the morning.”
“For fuck’s sake he needs me to be there for him when he wakes up! Don’t you doctors ever think about that?”
This is probably why I could never be a doctor. Sure my handwriting is
a bit lousy, but at least I wouldn’t tell people they couldn't see a
person after they’ve been in ER the last couple of hours. Hell, if it
were me in his place I wouldn’t want a doctor or a nurse standing over
me. I’d completely freak out.
I pissed of the doctor with arguing like no one’s business after that.
But at least he finally agreed to let me see him. When people say that
lying is a bad thing… sometimes it’s not. When it gets you to see
Patrick… it is your best friend until you feel guilty about lying later.
When he finally gave me the room number, I promised that I’d be the
only one to see him. Give me a couple of hours and maybe the doctor
might forget I’m in there. It’s not like I’ll sleep while I’m in there.
I poked my head in before… well I wasn’t creeping in, but I wasn’t
exactly being loud about it either. I guess, if he was awake, I didn’t
want to disturb him. I sat down beside his bed and reached for his
hand. In the last 24 hours our lives have been royally fucked up beyond
the normal. And despite how sexy I think he looks in that gown, I
wondered if he was really asleep.
“Hey.” I said quietly. “Things are gonna be okay. Don’t know if you can
hear me or not but I’ll just keep talking anyway.” It always made me
feel better. “Doc says little Pete’ll be fine. I just can’t pee on
anything for a few months that isn’t a toilet… I guess he doesn’t
appreciate my ruby red grapefruit humor.” I laughed quietly. Sometimes
the things I say are really stupid, but they make me laugh on the
inside. Right now, I think humor’s the only thing that’s keeping me
together when I look at him.
“Anyway. Today really fucking sucked for us both. But you really had me
scared that you weren’t gonna make it. That I’d literally be here
without my best friend.” God why is it the three words I wanted to tell
him most was the hardest fucking thing to say?
I think I started to ramble about some useless crap. I was being the
pussy again, and I think, this time I knew it. Maybe it’s because I was
scared he’d reject me and I didn’t want to go through the motions
again. Girls were bad enough. This would be a hell of a lot more
complicated.
I gently squeezed his hand. I just had to stop thinking all together or
I’d never say it. Even if he couldn’t hear me, I’d finally say the
words I’ve been dying to say for a long time now.
“…I love you…” I whispered.
Chapter Nine
Chapter Eight
Chapter Seven
Chapter Six
Chapter Five
Chapter Four B
Chapter Four A
Chapter Three
Chapter Two
Chapter One
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: Whatever cursing/mention of nudity is...
Summary: Sometimes all it takes
is the worst moments in life to make you realize just exactly what you
would do for something that means the world to you.
Disclaimer: the same as the rest of the chapters...
Notes: Tissues should be handy - there is some serious angst here. This is the very last chapter of Logos. If everyone comments and wants a Post-Logos Series, I shall do my best to deliver.
At least someone gave me a towel. I was sick of sitting around
half-naked for interrogation and normal police crap. I really didn’t
care I was staining the towel. I really didn’t have the control to keep
blood in me. But the scene downstairs was already making me want to
fucking gag. Problem was, I would have ended up gagging on Patrick. I
couldn’t do that to him. Besides, there was enough vomit and blood down
here that was his. We didn’t need anymore.
“The ambulance should be here soon.” Andy sat down on the couch and fumbled with the pair of broken glasses in his hand.
“Hey Andy, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“What happened upstairs?” Truth was, I really did want to know. But I
also wanted someone to say something to pass the time. Something other
than cops really. They were making me uncomfortable. Considering I was
cuffed to the railing near by for a while, I didn’t want to see another
pair of cuffs near me.
“Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Painful stuff.” He looked like he actually took a minute to say that.
“Enlighten me.”
He lifted a free hand to the cut above his left eye, “Look, a cut.”
I know Andy well enough to know that he’s been hanging around Joe too much when he starts doing that.
“Don’t make me say that god damn word man.” Hahaha. NARF. Andy hates me
saying that word. That’s because when I get sugared down that literally
is the only word I EVER say. It drives him fucking nuts.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Wahoo, I knew I’d win! I always do.
“That freaky little girl shoved Patrick down the stairs.” Well that
explained the thumping and the unconscious Patrick. “He wouldn’t let me
follow suit – uh not being pushed down the stairs but go down the
stairs.” He looked like he didn’t remember much, “Don’t remember too
much after that cause I think she hit me hard enough to make me see
stars.” Well I guess that explains it. But not the blood on her hands
when she came down.
“Nothing except that?”
“Does it look like I’d remember something if I was unconcious?”
He does have a point even if it was sarcasm. I can harass him later.
I’ll shut up for everyone now… or maybe not. Sounded like Joe’s talking
to the paramedics upstairs. When they came down, I was kind of half
tempted to hit any of them if they further injured Patrick. It doesn’t
matter if he lapsed into the black bliss of shock sleep or not. I was
having a hard enough time letting anyone besides me near him.
No, I’m not possessive of injured friends who risked their life against real psychos for me.
“Pete, you wanna go with him?” Joe seemed more quiet than usual. He
seemed like the whole thing was bothering him too. We’ll talk on the
way. There’s no way I could go alone.
“Yeah…” I winced as I tried to get up, “You wanna accompany me too?”
“What about Andy? We can have an orgy.”
Oh wow… Joe saying that just… really amuses me. He’s not gay. AT ALL.
It clearly shows because he’s not homophobic, but the idea of seeing
two guys together gives him nightmares. I remembered I tried to get him
to watch the Birdcage once and he literally stayed up for three days
with the comment ‘Can’t sleep Spartacus will eat me.’
It still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t have many girlfriends though.
“Uh… I guess. But I’m gonna have to sit out on all of it. Little Pete’s
out of order. I’ll settle for watching you two go at it. I’m sure it’d
be kinky as fuck.”
“Fuck is what you do.” Ah good ol’ Andy jumping into the conversation. Yay, I’ll get to be extra amused now.
Oh and boy was I right about that. The entire ride there and the
waiting. Holy butt monkeys. The conversations the three of us can have
in a hospital with me in one of the gowns looking like a penguin when I
tried at hell to walk… will forever be memorable. Apparently I’m funny
when I’m doped up on painkillers.
Well the doctor said I had to take 3 every day. Hell one’s enough to
last me for a week. This is why I don’t do drugs. For one, they work
better when they need to and two, I just don’t like having to swallow
HORSE pills. I was traumatized when I was a kid. They were
impossible to swallow back then. They still are now.
Then the good old doctor came back to harass us with probably more bad
news. It’s interesting that no matter how hyper, sugared down or doped
up I can get – the subject of Patrick sobers me up faster than a kick
to the balls.
“Is his immediate family here?”
“I’m the closest you are gonna get buddy.”
“I’m sorry, but if you aren’t family-“
“I’m his en-fucking-gaged boyfriend. Tell me how bad it is.” So I lied.
I can do that. He would be my boyfriend if I wasn’t such a fucking
pussy and just… make a move or something.
I pushed the doctor around the corner so we had privacy. I love the
guys and their support this last couple of hours, but I had to know.
Patrick meant a lot to me. I had to see him.
“He IS alive isn’t he?”
He seemed hesitant. Jesus, he can tell me how bad it is. What the hell could be worse than Patrick being DEAD? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Anything could be better than dead.
“He’ll live, but what he’s gone though hasn’t just left a physical mark, it might leave a psychological mark as well.”
Scars aren’t a problem. Hell, I have a crap load of tattoos. Or maybe they don’t see to be the same thing.
“He’s very lucky the embedded knife didn’t puncture his kidney. He’s
got a lot of stitches on his upper body from the multiple stab-and-drag
wounds. With physical therapy after his tendons have time to completely
recover, he will be able to walk with his right leg.”
“What about his mouth?”
“There will be a lot of scarred tissue in the back of his throat. His
tongue was damaged to the point where he needed stitches. He’s one
lucky man that it wasn’t completely swiped off.”
My insides just flipped over I think. I have to see him. Right now Peter Wentz cares about his best friend more than anything.
“May I see him?”
“He’s sleeping and right now it’s best you come back in the morning.”
“For fuck’s sake he needs me to be there for him when he wakes up! Don’t you doctors ever think about that?”
This is probably why I could never be a doctor. Sure my handwriting is
a bit lousy, but at least I wouldn’t tell people they couldn't see a
person after they’ve been in ER the last couple of hours. Hell, if it
were me in his place I wouldn’t want a doctor or a nurse standing over
me. I’d completely freak out.
I pissed of the doctor with arguing like no one’s business after that.
But at least he finally agreed to let me see him. When people say that
lying is a bad thing… sometimes it’s not. When it gets you to see
Patrick… it is your best friend until you feel guilty about lying later.
When he finally gave me the room number, I promised that I’d be the
only one to see him. Give me a couple of hours and maybe the doctor
might forget I’m in there. It’s not like I’ll sleep while I’m in there.
I poked my head in before… well I wasn’t creeping in, but I wasn’t
exactly being loud about it either. I guess, if he was awake, I didn’t
want to disturb him. I sat down beside his bed and reached for his
hand. In the last 24 hours our lives have been royally fucked up beyond
the normal. And despite how sexy I think he looks in that gown, I
wondered if he was really asleep.
“Hey.” I said quietly. “Things are gonna be okay. Don’t know if you can
hear me or not but I’ll just keep talking anyway.” It always made me
feel better. “Doc says little Pete’ll be fine. I just can’t pee on
anything for a few months that isn’t a toilet… I guess he doesn’t
appreciate my ruby red grapefruit humor.” I laughed quietly. Sometimes
the things I say are really stupid, but they make me laugh on the
inside. Right now, I think humor’s the only thing that’s keeping me
together when I look at him.
“Anyway. Today really fucking sucked for us both. But you really had me
scared that you weren’t gonna make it. That I’d literally be here
without my best friend.” God why is it the three words I wanted to tell
him most was the hardest fucking thing to say?
I think I started to ramble about some useless crap. I was being the
pussy again, and I think, this time I knew it. Maybe it’s because I was
scared he’d reject me and I didn’t want to go through the motions
again. Girls were bad enough. This would be a hell of a lot more
complicated.
I gently squeezed his hand. I just had to stop thinking all together or
I’d never say it. Even if he couldn’t hear me, I’d finally say the
words I’ve been dying to say for a long time now.
“…I love you…” I whispered.
Chapter Nine
Chapter Eight
Chapter Seven
Chapter Six
Chapter Five
Chapter Four B
Chapter Four A
Chapter Three
Chapter Two
Chapter One