Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Wake Me Up When The Nightmare Ends
“You are far from okay, young man!” Doctor Melanie Carter insisted as she reconnected the monitors to Joe’s chest and left index finger. “I want 2 milligrams of Midazolam, stat.”
As one of the nurses rushed off to obtain the drug, Doctor Carter watched the monitors carefully while addressing Andy, busy binding Matthew’s hands and feet with an entire roll of surgical tape.
“Now, what happened in here?”
Finally standing, satisfied that the still unconscious Matthew was secured, Andy made his way over to the opposite side of the bed, offering the exhausted Joe a broad smile before answering.
“He’s the one that tried to kill Joe, not Patrick,” he explained briefly.
“A twin brother? Did they not consider that from the start?” Carter asked; puzzled as to why everyone was so certain that Patrick had turned on his friends.
“We didn’t know he had a twin brother.” Andy replied, with a shrug. “According to him,” he gave a nod in Matthew’s direction, “Patrick didn’t know either.”
“Didn’t know he had a twin brother? I find that hard to believe,” she commented sceptically before turning as the nurse returned and took the syringe from her, frowning as the monitors indicated a sharp rise in Joe’s heart rate.
“You’re upsetting him, I suggest you leave,” she ordered as she prepared the injection and inserted it into the cannula in the back of his hand.
“Actually, I think it’s you that’s upsetting him,” Andy corrected, losing his smile.
“Please, let him stay,” Joe almost begged.
“No, the police are on their way, we need to get this room back to being a patient room, not a holding cell or interview room,” she insisted.
As much as Andy wanted to insist upon staying, he didn’t want the stress of an argument to wear Joe down. It made sense to get Matthew out of the room and he wanted to be the one to guard him until the police arrived.
“Joe, I won’t be far, you have to rest, if I’m here, you’ll try to stay awake, won’t you?” Andy smiled reassuringly.
Joe smiled resignedly in return, Andy knew him far too well, and it was true, he was utterly exhausted. Already the mild sedative was moving through his veins making him feel warm and comfortable and slightly fuzzy. A low groan from Matthew as he began to wake sealed the decision, they had to get him out of there before he woke fully and said anything to upset Joe further.
*
“Please, can’t you tell me anything?” Patrick begged as Doctor Oliver returned to the interview room along with the officer who had escorted him from the cells.
“It seems they’ve arrested your brother,” Oliver announced.
“Are Joe and Andy okay?” Patrick asked without hesitation.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “Stokes didn’t say. Don’t you care about your brother?”
“I don’t know how I feel,” Patrick admitted, staring down at the table. “I should, shouldn’t I? Care, I mean. But he tried to kill my best friends. I mean, I didn’t even know I had a twin brother and now… I need to know if they’re okay, can you find out?”
“Sure, but for now, we’re taking you back to the holding cells.”
As the officer pulled him to his feet Patrick’s eyes widened in terror. “N…No! He’ll kill me!”
“Who?” Oliver asked with concern.
“The guy in the cell, he tried to… please can’t I stay here?” he stammered trying to pull away from the police officer’s firm grip.
“You’re going back to the cell, end of discussion,” the officer snapped back pulling his arm. “I went to get him myself, the other guy was nowhere near him, he’s making it up.”
“No! I got away from him,” Patrick explained hurriedly. “You heard me shout for help.”
“I didn’t hear any shouting, there was you standing and him sitting on a bunk, nothing threatening. You’re just trying to escape, that’s all. Stokes wants you in the cell and that’s exactly where you’re going.”
The walk back to the cells seemed so much shorter than the walk from it, all the while Patrick had to be pushed forward, reluctant to return to what would certainly be an attack of some sort. As the door to the cells loomed, Patrick panicked. Slamming his heel down into the floor, he spun quickly to the right, pulling out of the officer’s grip before racing back up the corridor. He had no idea how far he thought he would get with his hands still cuffed behind him, but he thought it would be further than the few yards he had managed before he was tumbling to the floor, tripping as a thrown nightstick tangled in his legs. Crashing heavily to the cold tiled floor, unable to break his fall, Patrick hit his head and, although still conscious, remained dazed and unmoving.
“Damn it!” the officer growled as he turned Patrick onto his back and saw the blood trickling from above his eye and down his cheek. “I gotta take you to the doctor, can you stand?”
Patrick groaned in reply. Disorientated and with a splitting headache and double vision, he was in no condition to go anywhere unaided.
“Great!” the officer snapped as he called for assistance.
*
Pete sat silently in the police doctor’s office as he treated his injuries.
“You’re very quiet,” Doctor Howard commented as he dabbed a little antiseptic on Pete’s cheek.
“Ow!” Pete complained as the astringent liquid stung him.
“Well, that’s something, I guess,” the doctor chuckled. “Why don’t you tell me how this happened? Got into a fight?”
Pete stared up at the doctor, frowning at first, but the expression on the doctor’s face somehow drew all his misery to the surface and a short, strained summary came pouring out.
“My best friend kidnapped me, his lackeys tortured me then he took my wife and kid and used them to make me give him information to hurt my friends. He handed my kid over to a psycho who’d threatened my wife.”
Doctor Howard’s face fell at the tale; it was certainly not what he expected the young man to say.
“No wonder you’re quiet. Do you want me to get you someone to talk this through with?”
Pete shook his head sullenly. “I have a therapist.”
Then, like a simultaneous blow to his head, heart and soul, the memory of how it all started came back to him. His kidnapping from Doctor Steadman’s office flooded his memories and his eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” the doctor spoke comfortingly. “You’ve been through a lot. Must have been a real shock for you. Look, I’m going to give you something now, it’s just something to calm you down and help you relax, but I’ll write you a prescription for more. Is that okay?”
Pete nodded miserably, all his energy finally sapped as he sat slumped in the chair wishing his head would stop buzzing long enough to let him relax. As he watched silently, something caught his eye as Doctor Howard wrote out the prescription.
“You… you’re left-handed?”
“Yes,” the doctor confirmed. “Why do you ask?”
“He had a gun on me,” Pete sat up as an urgent memory took hold of him. “He… he was left-handed… and… and he called him… I don’t remember, but it wasn’t Patrick. Oh, fuck, it wasn’t Patrick!”
Pete’s eyes widened as he looked up at the doctor, a deep-set expression of panic etched on his face.
“I punched him, kicked him, I fucking stamped on him. Oh fuck!” Pete clasped his hands in extreme agitation and held them to his mouth and rocked back and forth quickly. “Oh fuck! I have to go to him! It wasn’t Patrick! Please you gotta help me find him!”
As one of the nurses rushed off to obtain the drug, Doctor Carter watched the monitors carefully while addressing Andy, busy binding Matthew’s hands and feet with an entire roll of surgical tape.
“Now, what happened in here?”
Finally standing, satisfied that the still unconscious Matthew was secured, Andy made his way over to the opposite side of the bed, offering the exhausted Joe a broad smile before answering.
“He’s the one that tried to kill Joe, not Patrick,” he explained briefly.
“A twin brother? Did they not consider that from the start?” Carter asked; puzzled as to why everyone was so certain that Patrick had turned on his friends.
“We didn’t know he had a twin brother.” Andy replied, with a shrug. “According to him,” he gave a nod in Matthew’s direction, “Patrick didn’t know either.”
“Didn’t know he had a twin brother? I find that hard to believe,” she commented sceptically before turning as the nurse returned and took the syringe from her, frowning as the monitors indicated a sharp rise in Joe’s heart rate.
“You’re upsetting him, I suggest you leave,” she ordered as she prepared the injection and inserted it into the cannula in the back of his hand.
“Actually, I think it’s you that’s upsetting him,” Andy corrected, losing his smile.
“Please, let him stay,” Joe almost begged.
“No, the police are on their way, we need to get this room back to being a patient room, not a holding cell or interview room,” she insisted.
As much as Andy wanted to insist upon staying, he didn’t want the stress of an argument to wear Joe down. It made sense to get Matthew out of the room and he wanted to be the one to guard him until the police arrived.
“Joe, I won’t be far, you have to rest, if I’m here, you’ll try to stay awake, won’t you?” Andy smiled reassuringly.
Joe smiled resignedly in return, Andy knew him far too well, and it was true, he was utterly exhausted. Already the mild sedative was moving through his veins making him feel warm and comfortable and slightly fuzzy. A low groan from Matthew as he began to wake sealed the decision, they had to get him out of there before he woke fully and said anything to upset Joe further.
*
“Please, can’t you tell me anything?” Patrick begged as Doctor Oliver returned to the interview room along with the officer who had escorted him from the cells.
“It seems they’ve arrested your brother,” Oliver announced.
“Are Joe and Andy okay?” Patrick asked without hesitation.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “Stokes didn’t say. Don’t you care about your brother?”
“I don’t know how I feel,” Patrick admitted, staring down at the table. “I should, shouldn’t I? Care, I mean. But he tried to kill my best friends. I mean, I didn’t even know I had a twin brother and now… I need to know if they’re okay, can you find out?”
“Sure, but for now, we’re taking you back to the holding cells.”
As the officer pulled him to his feet Patrick’s eyes widened in terror. “N…No! He’ll kill me!”
“Who?” Oliver asked with concern.
“The guy in the cell, he tried to… please can’t I stay here?” he stammered trying to pull away from the police officer’s firm grip.
“You’re going back to the cell, end of discussion,” the officer snapped back pulling his arm. “I went to get him myself, the other guy was nowhere near him, he’s making it up.”
“No! I got away from him,” Patrick explained hurriedly. “You heard me shout for help.”
“I didn’t hear any shouting, there was you standing and him sitting on a bunk, nothing threatening. You’re just trying to escape, that’s all. Stokes wants you in the cell and that’s exactly where you’re going.”
The walk back to the cells seemed so much shorter than the walk from it, all the while Patrick had to be pushed forward, reluctant to return to what would certainly be an attack of some sort. As the door to the cells loomed, Patrick panicked. Slamming his heel down into the floor, he spun quickly to the right, pulling out of the officer’s grip before racing back up the corridor. He had no idea how far he thought he would get with his hands still cuffed behind him, but he thought it would be further than the few yards he had managed before he was tumbling to the floor, tripping as a thrown nightstick tangled in his legs. Crashing heavily to the cold tiled floor, unable to break his fall, Patrick hit his head and, although still conscious, remained dazed and unmoving.
“Damn it!” the officer growled as he turned Patrick onto his back and saw the blood trickling from above his eye and down his cheek. “I gotta take you to the doctor, can you stand?”
Patrick groaned in reply. Disorientated and with a splitting headache and double vision, he was in no condition to go anywhere unaided.
“Great!” the officer snapped as he called for assistance.
*
Pete sat silently in the police doctor’s office as he treated his injuries.
“You’re very quiet,” Doctor Howard commented as he dabbed a little antiseptic on Pete’s cheek.
“Ow!” Pete complained as the astringent liquid stung him.
“Well, that’s something, I guess,” the doctor chuckled. “Why don’t you tell me how this happened? Got into a fight?”
Pete stared up at the doctor, frowning at first, but the expression on the doctor’s face somehow drew all his misery to the surface and a short, strained summary came pouring out.
“My best friend kidnapped me, his lackeys tortured me then he took my wife and kid and used them to make me give him information to hurt my friends. He handed my kid over to a psycho who’d threatened my wife.”
Doctor Howard’s face fell at the tale; it was certainly not what he expected the young man to say.
“No wonder you’re quiet. Do you want me to get you someone to talk this through with?”
Pete shook his head sullenly. “I have a therapist.”
Then, like a simultaneous blow to his head, heart and soul, the memory of how it all started came back to him. His kidnapping from Doctor Steadman’s office flooded his memories and his eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” the doctor spoke comfortingly. “You’ve been through a lot. Must have been a real shock for you. Look, I’m going to give you something now, it’s just something to calm you down and help you relax, but I’ll write you a prescription for more. Is that okay?”
Pete nodded miserably, all his energy finally sapped as he sat slumped in the chair wishing his head would stop buzzing long enough to let him relax. As he watched silently, something caught his eye as Doctor Howard wrote out the prescription.
“You… you’re left-handed?”
“Yes,” the doctor confirmed. “Why do you ask?”
“He had a gun on me,” Pete sat up as an urgent memory took hold of him. “He… he was left-handed… and… and he called him… I don’t remember, but it wasn’t Patrick. Oh, fuck, it wasn’t Patrick!”
Pete’s eyes widened as he looked up at the doctor, a deep-set expression of panic etched on his face.
“I punched him, kicked him, I fucking stamped on him. Oh fuck!” Pete clasped his hands in extreme agitation and held them to his mouth and rocked back and forth quickly. “Oh fuck! I have to go to him! It wasn’t Patrick! Please you gotta help me find him!”
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