Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Wake Me Up When The Nightmare Ends
With his hands cuffed securely behind his back, Patrick watched his feet as he walked, trying to avoid the very real possibility of tripping. He wasn’t a clumsy man by any stretch of the imagination, but merely suffering from an exhausted blend of being both distracted and afraid. Fearful for himself and his friends, of whom he had heard nothing, Patrick’s active mind feared the worst.
Trudging back to the interview room once more, escorted by the officer who had collected him from his cell, a voice he recognised well dragged him from his thoughts.
“Hey!”
“Pete!” he cried, elated to hear his friend’s voice. But on looking up, he saw the fresh bandages on his wrists, the split lip and bruised cheek and finally, the awkward limp, apparently in both legs, as he got closer. “What happened?” Patrick gasped. “Is Ashlee okay?”
Already angry from what he believed to be Patrick’s involvement in hurting his family, Pete now saw red and, putting aside his pain, the bassist launched into a short sprint. Pete’s body language and dark glowering expression told Patrick all he needed to know about his friend’s mood but the short distance between them gave him no time to react. Unable even to defend himself, Patrick grimaced with pain as Pete slammed him back against the wall before swinging a hefty punch. Screaming his frustration as Patrick’s legs buckled and he began to slide down the wall, Pete made a grab for his jacket, but the police officer was already pulling him away.
“You bastard! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” he shouted as he began to lose his grip on the singer.
“Hey! Enough! Calm down!” the officer yelled, but Pete was too incensed to listen.
Pete writhed, in the police officer’s grip, almost getting free once more before having his right arm twisted up his back. Rolling his eyes in frustration, the officer saw Patrick trying to sit up; he knew only too well what the reaction would be. Trying to pull Pete back and separate the pair, he was taken by surprise as Pete turned sharply to the right, loosening the firmness of the hold on his arm and giving him enough room and balance to slam his left foot down onto Patrick’s chest.
“That’s for Bronx!” he spat.
Patrick screamed in pain as the officer finally managed to spin around and push Pete up against the opposite wall. Two more officers ran to assist, one taking care of Patrick, the other helping to restrain and handcuff Pete.
“Don’t think this is over, Patrick!” Pete yelled over his shoulder, furious at being prevented from attacking further. “I’m gonna make you pay for every one of my baby’s tears!”
Patrick gasped in agony as the pain continued to course through him. He barely heard Pete’s threats, but what he did hear shocked and upset him to the core. By the time Patrick’s breathing had steadied, Pete had been taken away.
“What does he think I did?” Patrick asked miserably.
“Nice try!” the officer snapped harshly.
“Where was Pete taken?” Patrick asked, concerned that he may be being taken to the holding cells. Despite what Pete thought of him, he didn’t want him to have the face the man who had attacked him in the cell.
“Doctor,” the officer growled in return. “Apparently you hurt him pretty bad.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Patrick complained.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right! You’re innocent! That’s why one’s nearly dead and another hates you.”
“Nearly dead?” Patrick stammered not quite able to take it in.
Ignoring him, the officer reached down and pulled him to his feet.
“Wait! What…? I mean… Joe? He’s got worse?” Patrick waited a brief moment, but was greeted with total silence. “Tell me! Please!” Patrick demanded again, no reply.
Dragged along without a response, Patrick assumed the worst. By the time he arrived at the interview room, he was grief stricken. Pushed into the room, Patrick slumped into the chair not even bothering to look at the man seated opposite him.
“I can take it from here,” the man paused as the officer refused to budge. “I’ll interview him alone and I’d like you to remove his handcuffs.”
“Not if you’re on your own, he’s dangerous.”
Patrick’s shoulders shook with an almost silent sob at the words. Andy and Pete both believed him to be guilty, Pete had even attacked him and Joe… well, he had just been told he was at death’s door. His world was fast unravelling and he had no idea how to stop it.
“I don’t think he’ll give me any trouble,” the man replied calmly.
“No can do,” the officer stood firm. “He’s got to stay restrained.”
“It’s okay,” Patrick finally spoke, his voice cracked and miserable.
“Patrick,” the man spoke kindly, as the door closed. “My name is Doctor Oliver and we’re going to have a chat.”
“You’re a shrink?” Patrick looked up at last, a deep frown etched on his face.
“I’m a Police Psychologist,” Oliver replied kindly.
“You think I’m crazy? Maybe I am,” Patrick shook his head. “I must be! I seem to be the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on. I know I didn’t do it, whatever I’m supposed to have done but… but I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand, Patrick?”
“Isn’t that obvious? I didn’t do this, but who else could it have been?”
Patrick’s shoulders sagged at the idea, if even his friends thought him guilty then what chance did he stand?
“Well, who do you think could have done it?” Oliver pushed.
“I don’t know!” Patrick cried in frustration. “I don’t even know what’s happened! No one’s told me.”
“What if I told you that we know about your twin brother?”
Patrick jerked his head up to stare at Oliver. His eyes widened and lips parted as if to speak. The confusion and bewilderment clear in his expression took even Oliver by surprise.
“My what?” Patrick finally managed. “Don’t you think I’d know if I had a twin brother?”
Oliver pushed a copy of a birth certificate across the desk, followed by hospital reports of both their births and finally the report of his abduction at the age of only ten weeks never to be found.
“I have a twin brother?” Patrick whispered. It was almost a question, almost a statement, but beyond that he was initially lost for words.
“You didn’t know?” Oliver asked with surprise.
“No one ever told me,” he admitted. Tears had welled in his eyes from the stress of the day, but this last revelation caused them to spill out onto his cheeks. “He’s trying to kill me and my friends? Please tell me what happened to Joe and Pete, no one’s telling me anything.”
Doctor Oliver rose silently from his seat and headed for the door. Outside, Detective Bramall stood smoking a cigarette as he waited for Oliver’s conclusions.
“Well?” he asked eagerly.
“I think he’s innocent, he genuinely seems to know nothing about a twin brother.”
“How can he not know?”
“Bramall!” Stokes shouted from the end of the corridor. “Come on! Looks like we got Bad Twin at the hospital.”
“You’re kidding!” Bramall grinned. “What about Stump?”
Stokes frowned. “Have them put him back in the holding cells for now.”
Trudging back to the interview room once more, escorted by the officer who had collected him from his cell, a voice he recognised well dragged him from his thoughts.
“Hey!”
“Pete!” he cried, elated to hear his friend’s voice. But on looking up, he saw the fresh bandages on his wrists, the split lip and bruised cheek and finally, the awkward limp, apparently in both legs, as he got closer. “What happened?” Patrick gasped. “Is Ashlee okay?”
Already angry from what he believed to be Patrick’s involvement in hurting his family, Pete now saw red and, putting aside his pain, the bassist launched into a short sprint. Pete’s body language and dark glowering expression told Patrick all he needed to know about his friend’s mood but the short distance between them gave him no time to react. Unable even to defend himself, Patrick grimaced with pain as Pete slammed him back against the wall before swinging a hefty punch. Screaming his frustration as Patrick’s legs buckled and he began to slide down the wall, Pete made a grab for his jacket, but the police officer was already pulling him away.
“You bastard! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” he shouted as he began to lose his grip on the singer.
“Hey! Enough! Calm down!” the officer yelled, but Pete was too incensed to listen.
Pete writhed, in the police officer’s grip, almost getting free once more before having his right arm twisted up his back. Rolling his eyes in frustration, the officer saw Patrick trying to sit up; he knew only too well what the reaction would be. Trying to pull Pete back and separate the pair, he was taken by surprise as Pete turned sharply to the right, loosening the firmness of the hold on his arm and giving him enough room and balance to slam his left foot down onto Patrick’s chest.
“That’s for Bronx!” he spat.
Patrick screamed in pain as the officer finally managed to spin around and push Pete up against the opposite wall. Two more officers ran to assist, one taking care of Patrick, the other helping to restrain and handcuff Pete.
“Don’t think this is over, Patrick!” Pete yelled over his shoulder, furious at being prevented from attacking further. “I’m gonna make you pay for every one of my baby’s tears!”
Patrick gasped in agony as the pain continued to course through him. He barely heard Pete’s threats, but what he did hear shocked and upset him to the core. By the time Patrick’s breathing had steadied, Pete had been taken away.
“What does he think I did?” Patrick asked miserably.
“Nice try!” the officer snapped harshly.
“Where was Pete taken?” Patrick asked, concerned that he may be being taken to the holding cells. Despite what Pete thought of him, he didn’t want him to have the face the man who had attacked him in the cell.
“Doctor,” the officer growled in return. “Apparently you hurt him pretty bad.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Patrick complained.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right! You’re innocent! That’s why one’s nearly dead and another hates you.”
“Nearly dead?” Patrick stammered not quite able to take it in.
Ignoring him, the officer reached down and pulled him to his feet.
“Wait! What…? I mean… Joe? He’s got worse?” Patrick waited a brief moment, but was greeted with total silence. “Tell me! Please!” Patrick demanded again, no reply.
Dragged along without a response, Patrick assumed the worst. By the time he arrived at the interview room, he was grief stricken. Pushed into the room, Patrick slumped into the chair not even bothering to look at the man seated opposite him.
“I can take it from here,” the man paused as the officer refused to budge. “I’ll interview him alone and I’d like you to remove his handcuffs.”
“Not if you’re on your own, he’s dangerous.”
Patrick’s shoulders shook with an almost silent sob at the words. Andy and Pete both believed him to be guilty, Pete had even attacked him and Joe… well, he had just been told he was at death’s door. His world was fast unravelling and he had no idea how to stop it.
“I don’t think he’ll give me any trouble,” the man replied calmly.
“No can do,” the officer stood firm. “He’s got to stay restrained.”
“It’s okay,” Patrick finally spoke, his voice cracked and miserable.
“Patrick,” the man spoke kindly, as the door closed. “My name is Doctor Oliver and we’re going to have a chat.”
“You’re a shrink?” Patrick looked up at last, a deep frown etched on his face.
“I’m a Police Psychologist,” Oliver replied kindly.
“You think I’m crazy? Maybe I am,” Patrick shook his head. “I must be! I seem to be the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on. I know I didn’t do it, whatever I’m supposed to have done but… but I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand, Patrick?”
“Isn’t that obvious? I didn’t do this, but who else could it have been?”
Patrick’s shoulders sagged at the idea, if even his friends thought him guilty then what chance did he stand?
“Well, who do you think could have done it?” Oliver pushed.
“I don’t know!” Patrick cried in frustration. “I don’t even know what’s happened! No one’s told me.”
“What if I told you that we know about your twin brother?”
Patrick jerked his head up to stare at Oliver. His eyes widened and lips parted as if to speak. The confusion and bewilderment clear in his expression took even Oliver by surprise.
“My what?” Patrick finally managed. “Don’t you think I’d know if I had a twin brother?”
Oliver pushed a copy of a birth certificate across the desk, followed by hospital reports of both their births and finally the report of his abduction at the age of only ten weeks never to be found.
“I have a twin brother?” Patrick whispered. It was almost a question, almost a statement, but beyond that he was initially lost for words.
“You didn’t know?” Oliver asked with surprise.
“No one ever told me,” he admitted. Tears had welled in his eyes from the stress of the day, but this last revelation caused them to spill out onto his cheeks. “He’s trying to kill me and my friends? Please tell me what happened to Joe and Pete, no one’s telling me anything.”
Doctor Oliver rose silently from his seat and headed for the door. Outside, Detective Bramall stood smoking a cigarette as he waited for Oliver’s conclusions.
“Well?” he asked eagerly.
“I think he’s innocent, he genuinely seems to know nothing about a twin brother.”
“How can he not know?”
“Bramall!” Stokes shouted from the end of the corridor. “Come on! Looks like we got Bad Twin at the hospital.”
“You’re kidding!” Bramall grinned. “What about Stump?”
Stokes frowned. “Have them put him back in the holding cells for now.”
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