Peter Pan Complex [12/21.5]
Title: Peter Pan Complex [12/21.5]
Author:
too_old_to_cry
Rating:PG
Summary: Run, runaway, run as fast as you can. Run from your fears, run from your doubts, runaway, run as fast as you can. Run until I find you and save you.
When tragedy strikes Patrick runs, Peter Pan just happens to be the one to find him.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t know, DON’T SUE. Based a tad on Disney's Peter Pan.
Authors Note: Finally realized that the life that I live in my head is way better then the real one. P33t [biting_remarks] thankfully, will never leave my side.
Short Prologue
In The Trees
Why Where You Running, The Eternal Question.
Neverland with Peter Pan?.
Bad Dreams And Five-Year-Olds
The things you find on a morning walk.
The three F's; Friends, Food, and…and [unconventional] Family.
Pool parties with Mermaids, Indians, and Lost boys.
"Problems".
"The Road Home Is Paved With Good Intentions Hidden Under Bad Memories.".
"Rolling with the Shit Life Keeps Throwing at You.".
"When Did Bill Beckett get so smart?".
Chapter 12: Punches and Kisses fit hand in hand.
"What are you doing here?" A familiar voice whispered in my ear, hand still over my mouth. The hand moved away shakily as I turned slow to see the almost emaciated frame of Pete.
I looked at him in utter shock as he stood before me. In the days I had known Pete Wentz, he had never look they way he did now.
There were bags lining his dark eyes instead of black kohl, his once tightly flattering shirt hung from his shoulders loosely, and I noticed that his belt had be fastened two notches smaller then where he usually wore it. His hair was off at that "I just rolled out of bed angle" that I only used to see at the early moments of the morning and he was wearing his glasses, meaning he hadn't bothered with his contacts.
"Pete, what happened to you?" I asked, ignoring his question as I stood up completely. I had no clue why I asked, I knew the answer and it only made me want to punch Matt out even more.
Pete's eyes moved to his shoes and he habitually scratched the back of his head. I moved closer, slowly, before pulling him into the biggest hug I could muster up. Once I felt his hands take fistfuls of my shirt and his head bury into my neck, I knew that was all he needed. Pete Wentz loved attention, especially from the ones who mattered most.
He inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of my hair as I felt tears trickle against the side of my neck. "I'm sorry, 'Trick." The words he spoke came out broken between tears.
"What are you sorry for?" I asked, fearing the answer I would actually get.
He pulled away from the embrace slowly and rubbed his eyes under the thick black frames. "I thought he was coming back." He said referring to Matt. "I wanted him back so bad in that moment not even a half-hour after I told you I loved you. I'm such a fucking dick."
I stayed quiet for a moment as Pete kicked at the dry leaves on the ground before I found my voice. "Pete-"
"No Patrick." He stopped me. "No, no, I'm fucked up."
"No, you're not." I said grabbing his cheeks so his dark eyes were looking straight into mine. "Stop saying that. You're not 'fucked up'. A little fucked in the head, but not 'fucked up'."
I smiled crookedly and his lips moved to match mine before he moved his forehead to rest against mine. His smile grew wider and before I knew it, his lips were pursed and pressed against my own.
My hands moved slowly from his cheeks and weaved our fingers together as I kissed back. It was strange and new and confusing and different and good and-and-and amazing and I like it and I want more and there's Pete's tongue in my mouth and I think I like that too.
"That," Pete said when he pulled away and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "That was… wow."
"Nice sentence formation, Wentz." A voice came from behind us. My eyes snapped open and quickly landed on Matt only a few feet away. "So now you're making out on my territory?"
"Back off, Matt." I said, the taste of Pete still on my lips making me a little braver.
"Well, well, well," Matt said, making both Pete and I tense up. "Wendy, I do believe the last thing you decided to say in my presence was that I was a 'sadistic fuck'. Has Petey been teaching you full sentences now?"
He tilted his head back and let out a low, throaty laugh, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. It was deep and gravelly and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end.
"Just leave him out of this." Pete said, moving to step in front of me before I stopped him.
"You are a sadistic fuck," I said, clenching my fists at my sides. I had come here for a fight and I wasn't going to back down just because Pete showed up. "And I can talk for myself, I'm not just some extension of Pete. My name is Patrick, not Wendy. And what Pete and I do is none of your business."
"But you see, it is." Matt said, taking a few steps closer. "Because I'm still in Pete's head. 'Cause if I wasn't he wouldn't look like he was falling apart and you wouldn't be here."
I felt my nails dig crescent moons into the soft skin of my palms as Matt's laugh still clung to my ears. He flashed me a sinister smile again before his face collided with my fist. I looked completely taken aback as he reached up to his nose and found a string of blood already leading to his lips. And that blood leaking from his nose was almost enough to make me forget about the extreme pain coming from fist.
Almost.
He straightened up and pulled his arm back and swung at me, putting all of his weight into the punch that collided with my jaw.
"Matty, stop, he's smaller then you." I heard Pete yell as I kicked at Matt's shin while dodging another punch. "Patrick, stop!"
I managed to land a punch into his gut, knocking the wind out of him and making him double over. Then all of the sudden he was tackling me to the ground and holding me down with one hand, using the other to land punches directly in my face.
"Matt!" Pete yelled, trying to push Matt off of me as I kicked frantically at him. "Matt, get off of him!"
I brought my knee up and landed it between Matt's legs, making him topple over in pain. I took the opportunity to straddle him and begin punching him straight in his smirking face.
"Patrick, what the hell!" Pete yelled, managing to pull me off of Matt. "Stop!" He yelled as I struggled to escape form his grasp.
Matt was slowly getting to his feet and clutching his ribs before I finally realized what I had done. I was never one for violence and I had just stooped down to Matt's level. At that moment, no matter my initial reasons for wanting to fight Matt, I hated myself.
I slowly realized that, in my head I was fighting Matt Kline. I was fighting my own demons and taking it out on Matt. And by hitting him, I had become the person I never wanted to be.
I had become Matt.
-
Author:
too_old_to_cryRating:PG
Summary: Run, runaway, run as fast as you can. Run from your fears, run from your doubts, runaway, run as fast as you can. Run until I find you and save you.
When tragedy strikes Patrick runs, Peter Pan just happens to be the one to find him.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t know, DON’T SUE. Based a tad on Disney's Peter Pan.
Authors Note: Finally realized that the life that I live in my head is way better then the real one. P33t [
biting_remarks] thankfully, will never leave my side.Short Prologue
In The Trees
Why Where You Running, The Eternal Question.
Neverland with Peter Pan?.
Bad Dreams And Five-Year-Olds
The things you find on a morning walk.
The three F's; Friends, Food, and…and [unconventional] Family.
Pool parties with Mermaids, Indians, and Lost boys.
"Problems".
"The Road Home Is Paved With Good Intentions Hidden Under Bad Memories.".
"Rolling with the Shit Life Keeps Throwing at You.".
"When Did Bill Beckett get so smart?".
"What are you doing here?" A familiar voice whispered in my ear, hand still over my mouth. The hand moved away shakily as I turned slow to see the almost emaciated frame of Pete.
I looked at him in utter shock as he stood before me. In the days I had known Pete Wentz, he had never look they way he did now.
There were bags lining his dark eyes instead of black kohl, his once tightly flattering shirt hung from his shoulders loosely, and I noticed that his belt had be fastened two notches smaller then where he usually wore it. His hair was off at that "I just rolled out of bed angle" that I only used to see at the early moments of the morning and he was wearing his glasses, meaning he hadn't bothered with his contacts.
"Pete, what happened to you?" I asked, ignoring his question as I stood up completely. I had no clue why I asked, I knew the answer and it only made me want to punch Matt out even more.
Pete's eyes moved to his shoes and he habitually scratched the back of his head. I moved closer, slowly, before pulling him into the biggest hug I could muster up. Once I felt his hands take fistfuls of my shirt and his head bury into my neck, I knew that was all he needed. Pete Wentz loved attention, especially from the ones who mattered most.
He inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of my hair as I felt tears trickle against the side of my neck. "I'm sorry, 'Trick." The words he spoke came out broken between tears.
"What are you sorry for?" I asked, fearing the answer I would actually get.
He pulled away from the embrace slowly and rubbed his eyes under the thick black frames. "I thought he was coming back." He said referring to Matt. "I wanted him back so bad in that moment not even a half-hour after I told you I loved you. I'm such a fucking dick."
I stayed quiet for a moment as Pete kicked at the dry leaves on the ground before I found my voice. "Pete-"
"No Patrick." He stopped me. "No, no, I'm fucked up."
"No, you're not." I said grabbing his cheeks so his dark eyes were looking straight into mine. "Stop saying that. You're not 'fucked up'. A little fucked in the head, but not 'fucked up'."
I smiled crookedly and his lips moved to match mine before he moved his forehead to rest against mine. His smile grew wider and before I knew it, his lips were pursed and pressed against my own.
My hands moved slowly from his cheeks and weaved our fingers together as I kissed back. It was strange and new and confusing and different and good and-and-and amazing and I like it and I want more and there's Pete's tongue in my mouth and I think I like that too.
"That," Pete said when he pulled away and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "That was… wow."
"Nice sentence formation, Wentz." A voice came from behind us. My eyes snapped open and quickly landed on Matt only a few feet away. "So now you're making out on my territory?"
"Back off, Matt." I said, the taste of Pete still on my lips making me a little braver.
"Well, well, well," Matt said, making both Pete and I tense up. "Wendy, I do believe the last thing you decided to say in my presence was that I was a 'sadistic fuck'. Has Petey been teaching you full sentences now?"
He tilted his head back and let out a low, throaty laugh, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. It was deep and gravelly and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end.
"Just leave him out of this." Pete said, moving to step in front of me before I stopped him.
"You are a sadistic fuck," I said, clenching my fists at my sides. I had come here for a fight and I wasn't going to back down just because Pete showed up. "And I can talk for myself, I'm not just some extension of Pete. My name is Patrick, not Wendy. And what Pete and I do is none of your business."
"But you see, it is." Matt said, taking a few steps closer. "Because I'm still in Pete's head. 'Cause if I wasn't he wouldn't look like he was falling apart and you wouldn't be here."
I felt my nails dig crescent moons into the soft skin of my palms as Matt's laugh still clung to my ears. He flashed me a sinister smile again before his face collided with my fist. I looked completely taken aback as he reached up to his nose and found a string of blood already leading to his lips. And that blood leaking from his nose was almost enough to make me forget about the extreme pain coming from fist.
Almost.
He straightened up and pulled his arm back and swung at me, putting all of his weight into the punch that collided with my jaw.
"Matty, stop, he's smaller then you." I heard Pete yell as I kicked at Matt's shin while dodging another punch. "Patrick, stop!"
I managed to land a punch into his gut, knocking the wind out of him and making him double over. Then all of the sudden he was tackling me to the ground and holding me down with one hand, using the other to land punches directly in my face.
"Matt!" Pete yelled, trying to push Matt off of me as I kicked frantically at him. "Matt, get off of him!"
I brought my knee up and landed it between Matt's legs, making him topple over in pain. I took the opportunity to straddle him and begin punching him straight in his smirking face.
"Patrick, what the hell!" Pete yelled, managing to pull me off of Matt. "Stop!" He yelled as I struggled to escape form his grasp.
Matt was slowly getting to his feet and clutching his ribs before I finally realized what I had done. I was never one for violence and I had just stooped down to Matt's level. At that moment, no matter my initial reasons for wanting to fight Matt, I hated myself.
I slowly realized that, in my head I was fighting Matt Kline. I was fighting my own demons and taking it out on Matt. And by hitting him, I had become the person I never wanted to be.
I had become Matt.
-