Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Wake Me Up When The Nightmare Ends
Pete was already on his feet, almost pushing Doctor Howard away. Immediately he felt two strong hands on his shoulders pushing him back down onto the chair.
“You’re not going anywhere until I’ve finished with you,” the doctor insisted firmly, yet kindly.
“But you…”
“I do understand,” Howard raised a finger to stop Pete’s next objection. “And I care! But you are in no condition to be running off anywhere!”
“I stamped on him,” Pete repeated miserably. “He’s my best friend and I believed he could do this to us. I should have known it couldn’t have been him.”
“Okay, double back here,” Howard frowned as he peeled the bandages away from Pete’s wrists. “How did you think it was him in the first place?”
Pete looked down as he raised a hand to allow the doctor to clean and apply butterfly bandages to some of the deeper cuts. Grateful that they didn’t need stitches, he gave a small smile of relief.
“The guy, he looked and sounded so much like him, it was like he was a twin. I don’t know, I really don’t understand.”
Pulled from his thoughts, Pete’s ears picked up as he heard a familiar voice beyond the door to the doctor’s office.
“I’m fine, look, I was dazed for a minute…”
“Your head’s bleeding, we’re obliged to see to it.”
“It’s a tiny little cut!”
“Patrick!” Pete yelled as he rose and quickly pushed past the doctor.
Ignoring his injuries and pain and much to Howard’s annoyance, Pete rushed to the door and opened it quickly; the scene that met his eyes upset him to the core. Patrick was pale with a cut above one eye, the blood was drying but had rolled down has cheek and was now crusted and flaking. But the worst part was his expression. Looking up at Pete, Patrick had almost shrunk back against the officer behind him, his eyes wide and afraid.
“I… I know you don’t believe me… but…”
Pete launched himself at his friend, causing Patrick to push back even further, fearing another assault, almost knocking the officer behind him over in the process. He gasped his relief but surprise as Pete threw his arms around him, burying his head in his neck and squeezing him hard.
“I’m sorry, Trick, I’m so sorry!” he cried with a tightening throat as he fought to hold back guilty tears. “I thought he was you. I can’t believe I blamed you, I should have known! I’m so sorry!”
Still handcuffed, Patrick was unable to return the hug that Pete so needed. Patrick leaned in to Pete’s hug and pressed his cheek into Pete’s neck to symbolise his forgiveness and pleasure at Pete’s realisation.
“How… how do you know?” Patrick finally asked, somewhat hesitantly.
“He slipped up, Houseman called him… oh, what was it? Er… Matthew! He called him Matthew and he was left handed, but he drugged me, Trick, made me forget. He was your twin or something. I thought he was you, how could I have thought that?”
Patrick pulled back and offered a sympathetic smile.
“Because he looked and sounded like me? Maybe?”
“But he didn’t act like you!” Pete shook his head. “I’m so sorry!”
“Pete, I don’t even know what happened to you… or Joe for that matter. No one’s telling me anything!”
“Joe?” Pete’s eyes widened as he looked up at the officer escorting Patrick. “What happened to Joe?”
“He said he was close to death,” Patrick murmured.
“And now?” Pete glowered at the officer and asked angrily. “Think you could find out?”
“And what about Ashlee?” Patrick pressed.
“They took her and Bronx straight to the hospital to have him checked out, make sure he’s okay. But they brought me here,” Pete replied, initially with a deep frown that soon softened as he looked at Patrick. “But if they hadn’t, I may never have remembered what happened.” Pausing briefly, Pete glared at the officer again. “Well?”
“I’m here to get him fixed up before he goes back in the holding cells,” the officer announced. “That’s all.”
“He’s innocent!” Pete insisted.
“Pete, there’s a guy in the cells… he tried to… Please don’t let him put me back there!”
“It didn’t work before, it’s not gonna work now,” the officer sighed.
“If he says…!” Pete began; uncertain what Patrick was alluding to but furious that, again, no one believed him. Only three words into his tirade he was interrupted by the doctor.
“You hit your head?” he nodded to himself as he smiled kindly at Patrick. “You’ll have to stay here for at least a couple of hours. Check for concussion.”
“It was only a little bump,” Patrick protested.
“Listen to the man!” Pete urged. “Patrick, listen to him!”
“What?” he asked miserably, not really taking in what was being said.
“You can’t go back to the cells, I want to keep you here for observation,” Doctor Howard explained carefully.
“Oh!” Patrick replied, finally realising what was meant. “Yeah, my head.”
“I’m going to need the patient to be released from those cuffs,” Howard turned his attention to the officer.
“I can’t…”
“Are you denying him proper medical attention?”
“No! But…”
“Take the cuffs off,” Howard insisted. “Now.”
Reluctantly, the officer removed the handcuffs from around Patrick’s wrists. Pulling his sore wrists close to his chest as he nursed them, Pete placed a comforting arm around his shoulder and pulled him into the centre of the room.
“He’s in my custody now, MacLean, you can go,” Howard spoke curtly to the uncaring officer.
Patrick watched out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for the officer to leave. The last threat of him having to return to the cells and the guy who wanted to rape, beat or kill him was finally removed.
“Thank you!” he finally choked out as his tears began to flow.
Pulled closer into a comforting embrace, Patrick allowed his tears to flow, wondering what he was crying for the most. Concern for his friends or sadness and anger over his new-found brother whose sole aim was to kill them.
Accepting the warmth of Pete’s embrace he realised very suddenly that he was exhausted.
“You’re not going anywhere until I’ve finished with you,” the doctor insisted firmly, yet kindly.
“But you…”
“I do understand,” Howard raised a finger to stop Pete’s next objection. “And I care! But you are in no condition to be running off anywhere!”
“I stamped on him,” Pete repeated miserably. “He’s my best friend and I believed he could do this to us. I should have known it couldn’t have been him.”
“Okay, double back here,” Howard frowned as he peeled the bandages away from Pete’s wrists. “How did you think it was him in the first place?”
Pete looked down as he raised a hand to allow the doctor to clean and apply butterfly bandages to some of the deeper cuts. Grateful that they didn’t need stitches, he gave a small smile of relief.
“The guy, he looked and sounded so much like him, it was like he was a twin. I don’t know, I really don’t understand.”
Pulled from his thoughts, Pete’s ears picked up as he heard a familiar voice beyond the door to the doctor’s office.
“I’m fine, look, I was dazed for a minute…”
“Your head’s bleeding, we’re obliged to see to it.”
“It’s a tiny little cut!”
“Patrick!” Pete yelled as he rose and quickly pushed past the doctor.
Ignoring his injuries and pain and much to Howard’s annoyance, Pete rushed to the door and opened it quickly; the scene that met his eyes upset him to the core. Patrick was pale with a cut above one eye, the blood was drying but had rolled down has cheek and was now crusted and flaking. But the worst part was his expression. Looking up at Pete, Patrick had almost shrunk back against the officer behind him, his eyes wide and afraid.
“I… I know you don’t believe me… but…”
Pete launched himself at his friend, causing Patrick to push back even further, fearing another assault, almost knocking the officer behind him over in the process. He gasped his relief but surprise as Pete threw his arms around him, burying his head in his neck and squeezing him hard.
“I’m sorry, Trick, I’m so sorry!” he cried with a tightening throat as he fought to hold back guilty tears. “I thought he was you. I can’t believe I blamed you, I should have known! I’m so sorry!”
Still handcuffed, Patrick was unable to return the hug that Pete so needed. Patrick leaned in to Pete’s hug and pressed his cheek into Pete’s neck to symbolise his forgiveness and pleasure at Pete’s realisation.
“How… how do you know?” Patrick finally asked, somewhat hesitantly.
“He slipped up, Houseman called him… oh, what was it? Er… Matthew! He called him Matthew and he was left handed, but he drugged me, Trick, made me forget. He was your twin or something. I thought he was you, how could I have thought that?”
Patrick pulled back and offered a sympathetic smile.
“Because he looked and sounded like me? Maybe?”
“But he didn’t act like you!” Pete shook his head. “I’m so sorry!”
“Pete, I don’t even know what happened to you… or Joe for that matter. No one’s telling me anything!”
“Joe?” Pete’s eyes widened as he looked up at the officer escorting Patrick. “What happened to Joe?”
“He said he was close to death,” Patrick murmured.
“And now?” Pete glowered at the officer and asked angrily. “Think you could find out?”
“And what about Ashlee?” Patrick pressed.
“They took her and Bronx straight to the hospital to have him checked out, make sure he’s okay. But they brought me here,” Pete replied, initially with a deep frown that soon softened as he looked at Patrick. “But if they hadn’t, I may never have remembered what happened.” Pausing briefly, Pete glared at the officer again. “Well?”
“I’m here to get him fixed up before he goes back in the holding cells,” the officer announced. “That’s all.”
“He’s innocent!” Pete insisted.
“Pete, there’s a guy in the cells… he tried to… Please don’t let him put me back there!”
“It didn’t work before, it’s not gonna work now,” the officer sighed.
“If he says…!” Pete began; uncertain what Patrick was alluding to but furious that, again, no one believed him. Only three words into his tirade he was interrupted by the doctor.
“You hit your head?” he nodded to himself as he smiled kindly at Patrick. “You’ll have to stay here for at least a couple of hours. Check for concussion.”
“It was only a little bump,” Patrick protested.
“Listen to the man!” Pete urged. “Patrick, listen to him!”
“What?” he asked miserably, not really taking in what was being said.
“You can’t go back to the cells, I want to keep you here for observation,” Doctor Howard explained carefully.
“Oh!” Patrick replied, finally realising what was meant. “Yeah, my head.”
“I’m going to need the patient to be released from those cuffs,” Howard turned his attention to the officer.
“I can’t…”
“Are you denying him proper medical attention?”
“No! But…”
“Take the cuffs off,” Howard insisted. “Now.”
Reluctantly, the officer removed the handcuffs from around Patrick’s wrists. Pulling his sore wrists close to his chest as he nursed them, Pete placed a comforting arm around his shoulder and pulled him into the centre of the room.
“He’s in my custody now, MacLean, you can go,” Howard spoke curtly to the uncaring officer.
Patrick watched out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for the officer to leave. The last threat of him having to return to the cells and the guy who wanted to rape, beat or kill him was finally removed.
“Thank you!” he finally choked out as his tears began to flow.
Pulled closer into a comforting embrace, Patrick allowed his tears to flow, wondering what he was crying for the most. Concern for his friends or sadness and anger over his new-found brother whose sole aim was to kill them.
Accepting the warmth of Pete’s embrace he realised very suddenly that he was exhausted.
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