Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Everybody Wants Somebody

Chapter 8: Lullaby

by scarsandstories93 0 reviews

Sarah makes a big decision and is confronted with the mounting consequences.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Romance - Published: 2017-04-18 - 4434 words

“Life's just a pace-car on death only less diligent, and when the two collide it's no coincidence the lights are on and everybody's home. The only thing suicidal here is the door. We had a good run, even I have to admit. Life's just a pace-car on death only less diligent.

“Hell or glory, I don't want anything in between. Then came a baby boy with long eyelashes. Daddy said, ‘You gotta show the world the thunder.’”

A week after clearing things up with Patrick, he and Sarah were back to troubleshooting her music together. He suggested that they just play covers together while she got back into the swing of playing regularly and collaborating with someone besides Bill. Sarah had forgotten how much she missed playing with and working with Patrick, let alone talking to him. They were both pretty over the moon about their rekindled friendship.

They’d gotten halfway through a cover of “She’s My Winona” in Patrick’s hotel room when Sarah started feeling nauseated. She quickly excused herself and found his bathroom just in time to collapse against the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach in the bowl. Goddamn it, she thought. She’d been feeling a little sick like that for the last several days, starting with a make-up lunch she’d shared with Patrick; she passed that off as food poisoning. Then the next day, she chalked that up to a freak heat wave in the city and not having packed clothes for the weather. Another day, too much coffee, and the day after that, Bill tried out new cologne. Maybe with all the traveling and new places and people she had caught the flu? It hadn’t made any sense, until mid-retch. Motherfucking fu—Then, soft knocking at the door.

“Sarah? Sarah, you okay?” Patrick asked, concerned. He knocked again. “Sarah?”

“I’ll be done in a minute,” she managed to respond before hurling again. She thought she could almost hear him cringe at the sound. When she finally felt like she was done, she flushed and rinsed her mouth with some of his mouthwash. And then she was hit with a craving. She whipped open the bathroom door to find Patrick still standing there, startled by her abruptness.

“Hey holy smokes you’re alive! That sounded, well, okay I won’t lie it sounded a little brutal. Do you, like, need anything?”

“Oh my god yes,” she said emphatically. “I desperately need a chocolate milkshake.”

“Okay well there’s a McDonald’s right—” Sarah shook her head.

“Oh no no, it’s gotta be one of those super decked-out ones with the cookies and shit on the glasses.” He laughed, grabbing his keys. Sarah slipped on her shoes and found her purse.

“Okay okay, off we go!”

As they walked to the diner, Sarah’s arm casually intertwined with Patrick’s, he couldn’t help himself.

“Hey, so, I’ve gotta ask. I know this is probably super awkward, but I can’t help but notice that incidents like, well like earlier have been happening a lot lately.” He took a deep breath. “Do you think you could be, you know, pregnant?” She bit her lip and continued walking forward, afraid that if she admitted her suspicions out loud, it would make them more real. “Sarah?” She sighed.

“Yeah. I think I might be,” she choked out. They walked along in silence until they arrived at the diner and had a waitress seat them at a table.

Milkshake procured, and Sarah’s craving about to be satisfied, Patrick couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her devour her treat. The longer he looked at her, the more he noticed how perfectly her hair fell around her face, how her eyes lit up when she was excited about something or really anything, how she looked without any makeup on, how she glowed—He stopped.

“So,” he began, “you think you might be—” She only nodded in response, still sucking down her shake with vigor. “Do you have any idea what you want to do? I mean, congratulations? Is that a thing?” She laughed, having finished off the liquid part and started picking at the garnishes around the glass. She took the full cookie first.

“Well, thanks? I guess?” She took a bite. “I mean, come to think of it, I have always wanted a family. Ever since I was a little girl. I used to play house and imaginary family with my dolls and stuff. It was really cute.” Patrick smiled at her as she grinned, reminiscing. “And with my inheritance, taking care of a baby wouldn’t be difficult. But, now that it could be here, that part of that fantasy could be real? I don’t know. I have no idea. This wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured being a mom.” She took another bite of the cookie.

“Well, high school health tells me that the first thing you should do is be sure. Buy a home test, go to a clinic, whatever. Doesn’t make sense to worry about something that might not even be anything. But if it is something, wisdom and common sense tell me that you should probably tell your boyfriend.” Sarah winced, rolling her eyes a bit as she finished off the cookie. Her blissful honeymoon phase with Bill had dwindled into barely burning embers of what once was their fiery passion. Admittedly, the sex was still great, but between his growing schedule with his band, his solo side project, and the brewing storm with Christine, things had become more than complicated.

“Yeah, I know.” She flashed a miniscule smile at she started peeling off the hot fudge with a spoon. She wanted to focus on something else. “Hey, when are you going to tell Elisa that you’re telling her to fuck off?” She winked at him as he groaned.

“Today! I’m telling her today!” He laughed half-heartedly, half in dread. He let his gaze drift back to watching Sarah lick the fudge off the spoon. “Well, when you’re done with that, let’s get you home.” She nodded and rushed through the fudge. Patrick left some cash on the table as he helped Sarah with her coat and out of the diner. On the way back to her hotel with Bill, she stopped to buy a box of tests.

They paused in front of her hotel doors, and Patrick pulled her into a close hug.

“Let me know how it goes, okay?” He rubbed her back comfortingly. She hugged tighter.

“Yeah, will do. Thanks, Trick.” She smiled at him and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. He smiled back and walked off, leaving her to confront Bill.

Upon walking into the hotel room, she stumbled in on Bill playing a new song. She leaned against the doorframe and listened.

“Oh, love, here you come again.
Seduction is a wicked game that you perfected.
Oh, love, I don't want to fight,
Like a boxer in the ring caught with both his hands tied.
Though we know this is madness,
Can't control, can't resist it.

Oh, love, you can cash the check
In exchange for making Monday nights more suggestive.
Hopeless under your devise,
And I'm young enough, dumb enough, tough enough not to think twice.
Though we know this is madness,
Can't control, can't resist it.

Sleep with one eye open on a bed of broken glass
In the middle of the ocean; yeah I'd do that.
Nothing lasts forever, but she makes me want to try.
I'd crawl across the desert; yeah I'd do that.
I'd do that, oh, love.”

Sarah blushed, knowing it was for her but unsure of how to feel. She dropped her bags on the floor, causing Bill to stop playing and turn.

“Hey! You’re home.” He smiled at her and got up from the couch to kiss her. “Missed you today.” She felt herself smile back as she hugged him.

“Missed you, too.” They kissed again, and Sarah got herself a glass of water. “New song?”

“Yeah! Yeah. It’s not done yet, but not really sure how to wrap it up.” He followed her to the kitchenette. “How’s Patrick? Glad to be working together again?” She smiled, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“He’s good! It’s definitely great having him back. I mean, very grateful for being able to work with you more,” she flashed a grin over her shoulder, “but the variety is welcome.” He kissed her cheek and went back to the couch, noticing Sarah’s convenience store bag on the floor. And through the thin white plastic, he saw the ClearBlue label.


“Yeah?” She walked into the living area, and the scene startled her. Bill just stared at her.
“Are you—” She quickly realized he saw the pregnancy tests. Why didn’t I just put them in my bag? She sighed.

“I—I don’t know yet. I might be. Hence, well,” she gestured towards the plastic bag. “Those.” She took a gulp of her water. He sat on the couch, face mostly emotionless, but Sarah noticed his eyes brimming with tears. She joined him and placed her free hand on his knee. They sat in silence for a few moments. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” He turned to her, crying more openly but a smile had appeared. “Sarah,” he kissed her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him. “You might be pregnant!” He rocked her lightly back and forth, musing about being able to have another kid and giving Genevieve a sibling. Sarah stayed mostly blank. She didn’t know what to feel. When he noticed her lack of expression, he dropped his smile and wiped his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “I just, I don’t want to get excited in case I don’t end up being, you know, pregnant.” He nodded.

“Right, right.” More silence. “So, uh, do you want to take a test now and find out?”

“Oh! Yeah, we uh, we should probably do that.” She laughed nervously and chugged the rest of her water.

A couple more glasses of water later, Bill was pacing in the bedroom, eagerly awaiting the results while Sarah watched the test’s screen blink. She cursed the tiny digital hourglass for holding back what could be the most important answer for her entire future. As the little screen continued to flash unapologetically, Sarah set the test on the floor and put a timer on her phone for a couple of minutes, until the test was done processing. She spent the time daydreaming.


“There she is!” A giggling three-year-old girl bursts out from behind a curtain and tackles Sarah.

“Got me, Mommy!” Sarah plants a kiss on the girl’s chubby cheeks and begins a tickle fight. The girl squeals, reddening her already rosy face. Her dark brown curls are flat against the floor, and long eyelashes cover the ebony eyes beneath. Sarah lets her daughter up off the floor to gain an advantage, and the child quickly tries to tickle Sarah back as best she can. Sarah amplifies her laughter much to the child’s delight.

“I’m beaten!” Sarah decrees, collapsing on the floor. The dainty girl, triumphant, cuddles up next to her mother and calms down. Sarah holds her close.

“Luh you, Mama.” Sarah kisses her daughter’s head.

“I love you, too, baby.”


Sarah jolted into the present at the sound of her phone timer. The daydream had relaxed her nerves some; she knew she would enjoy motherhood, and like she told Patrick, her inheritance would make for an easy go of most of the parenthood problems. Shakily, she reached for the test.


She walked out into the bedroom holding the test, not entirely sure how she should react. Bill took it from her, read it, and immediately began crying with pure joy. As he hugged her, the daydream she’d had in the bathroom started to warp. She wouldn’t be a single mother; she’d have Bill, and all of the complications that came with him. Their child would have a sister, who may never really know her sibling if Christine had her way. If Sarah and Bill stayed together, she realized she would be very unhappy; if they got married, they’d ultimately end up divorced, young and bitter. And then they’d have to work through shared custody, something Sarah had never wanted for herself or anyone else, let alone her own child.

She also feared for herself. Would she still be able to pursue music? How could she, if Bill did, too? If she did, what would happen to her daughter? And if she didn’t, what would happen to her? Would she simply end up bitter, or would she become like her mother? Or worse, end up like her mother and letting her own daughter find her in such a gruesome way? The thought chilled her. Bill noticed her goose bumps appear.

“Sarah? What’s wrong?” He broke their hug to hold her at arm’s length and noticed for the first time the maintained stoic look on her face. “You—you’re not smiling. You’re not happy? You’re pregnant, we should be celebrating!”

“I just, I don’t think that this is something I want right now.” She pulled away from him, impulsively crossing her arms and hugging herself. She began pacing as he stared at her in bewilderment.

“What, so you don’t ever want kids?” She shook her head no. “You don’t want kids with me?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“So you’re just not ready? Sarah no one’s ever ready.”

“I know that! It’s just, there’s so much left to do!”

“Look at me! I had Genevieve at the beginning of my career, and now—”

“And now you and her mother are getting a divorce! And you had Christine to parent her while you were gone, touring and following your dreams. What did she do before you? What does she do now that she’s a parent?” Sarah fought off her tears, knowing they would break her if she allowed them to overwhelm her. “I won’t let myself become that. I can’t let myself become that.”

“What are you saying?” He asked, tears in his eyes and voice cracking. This is going to kill him.

“I’m saying,” she took a composing breath, “that I don’t want this baby.” He was quiet a moment, gears turning.

“Okay, so you don’t have to be a parent. I’ll be the parent. Okay? I’ll stay home, I’ll be a stay-at-home dad, and you can still pursue music. I gladly take all of that, if you please,” he walked up to her and caressed her face, “please stay with me.” She turned away.

“I can’t do that,” she answered softly.

“Jesus Christ, Sarah!” He exploded. “There aren’t any options left! Either we become parents, or, or—” he stopped himself, eyes wide. “You’re, you’re not going to, are you?”

“I’m not going to what?”

“Have an abortion,” he spat. Sarah struggled to keep the tears back as she watched his face fall. Her answer was in her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” He burst. “Sarah, that kid is ours! We made it!” He kept motioning towards her underbelly, and it made her uncomfortable. Did she no longer matter? “You can’t just kill it because you’re selfish!”

“Selfish?!” She repeated, taken aback. “William Beckett, I expect this kind of reaction from a lot of people, but certainly not you.”

“It’s my fucking kid, too! And I have a say!”

“It’s my body, Bill! And it’s my choice! Not an easy choice either!”

“Clearly,” he scoffed sarcastically. She didn’t let him see how much the attitude hurt her. She tried to approach him, to calm him, but he threw her arm off of his.


“No!” He stormed out of the bedroom and into the living area, throwing his laptop in his bag and putting his guitar in its case.

“You’re walking out on this right now? Really?”

“The way I see it, you have two choices,” he said, barely audible through his tears. “You either decide to be a part of this family, or you have the abortion.” He threw the bag and the guitar over his shoulders and looked for his shoes.

“That’s not fucking fair!”

“You don’t get to kill our baby and fuck me over and still keep me in your life!” He yelled back. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed a hat, and found his hotel key. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. If, if you decide to go through with it, you better not be here.” He looked longingly at her for a moment and slammed the door.

Sarah didn’t give herself time to think; she just wanted to be gone. She went through their hotel room, picked through her things and packed them up, and took one last look at the hotel room. She found a scrap of paper and scribbled “I’m sorry” on it, and she left it on a table with her hotel key and her key to his home in Chicago. With one last strong sigh, Sarah grabbed her things and left the hotel. She hailed a cab and told the driver to go to the one place she knew she’d be safe.

Patrick knew something was wrong the moment he laid eyes on her.


“Don’t start,” she said, walking into the hotel room and pulling out her phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calling a clinic.”

“For…?” She held up a waiting finger.

“Hello? Hi, I uh, I need to make an appointment? Sarah Laurier. July seventeenth, 1992. Out of pocket. One moment.” She covered the phone and turned to Patrick. “Can you order some room service for dinner? You know what I like.” He nodded and went to the hotel phone, confused but willing to comply until he figured out what was going on. She went back to her call. “Sorry about that. Yes, I’m pregnant, and, uh, and I need an appointment for an abortion. Next available is fine. Tomorrow afternoon, two? Yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks.” She hung up as Patrick came back in the room. Sarah flopped on the couch, and he sat beside her, hand comfortingly on her thigh.

“Are you okay?” She stared at the ceiling, not willing herself to move, but she was grateful to have him by her side. “If you need a place to stay, you’re welcome here for as long as you need.” She shifted her gaze to him.

“Even if that means the rest of the time you’re in New York?” He looked at her inquisitively. “I’ll explain later.” There was a firm knock on the hotel door.

“Fast service,” Patrick stated, sliding up to get the food and tip the waiter. As he brought the dishes back to the couch, Sarah perked up a little at the scent of her favorite comfort food: grilled cheese and seasoned fries. He set out the food on the coffee table and turned on a movie channel to fill the space until she was ready.

An hour or so later, food finished, Sarah hit the mute button on the remote.

“I told him,” she said quietly as Patrick turned to her. “I took a test. I’m pregnant.” She felt tears come but worked as hard as she could to suppress them. Words started to catch in her throat. “Bill was so excited, but I, I just couldn’t. I can’t do this, Patrick. Not now, not when I’m not ready.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away. Patrick scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “He realized I was thinking about an abortion and freaked out. I tried to get him to see that this wasn’t an easy decision for me, but he gave me an ultimatum. Him or the abortion.” A few more tears pooled in her eyes, and Patrick wiped them away with his thumb. “How could he, Patrick? How could he throw away everything we had just like that?” She turned to look up at him. He sighed.

“I don’t know, Sarah. I think he’s just scared. When we toured together years back, I met Christine. Genevieve was maybe a year old or so. And he was so, so incredibly happy. He loved them with his entire being, heart, and soul. I know things haven’t been going well between him and Christine for awhile now, but I can tell he misses the way things used to be.” Sarah sat in contemplative silence. What Patrick said made sense to her, hell she definitely could relate, but it didn’t make how Bill treated her sting any less.

“I guess.” She yawned and sat up. “I’m gonna take a hot bath before bed.” She stood and made her way to the bathroom.

“Okay. When you’re done, you take the bed and I’ll take the couch.” She turned to him.

“No you won’t, it’s your hotel room. You have a king-sized bed. It’s big enough for both of us.”

“Fine, fine.” They smiled at each other, and Sarah headed towards the bathroom. She turned up the water about as hot as she could stand to fill the tub, and she searched for something she could use for bubbles while it filled itself up. Eventually, she settled on a lavender body wash the hotel had provided and dumped it under the running tap, getting lost in watching the bubbles appear and billow on top of the water. When Sarah decided it was full enough, she undressed and slipped beneath the bubbles, taking in the warmth and the pleasant aroma. The steam enveloped her, and she felt her stress melt into it as it rose and seeped throughout the room. She heard Patrick humming and singing snippets of songs as he moved between the rooms to bring Sarah’s things into the bedroom. Comforted by his presence, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax.


Some time later, after a round of room service dessert, Patrick and Sarah had slipped into bed and bid each other goodnight. Sarah couldn’t seem to turn off her brain; it ran wild with worry and indecision over whether or not she was making the right choice. Should she go to her appointment the next day? Should she wait until she got home to Chicago? She placed a hand over her underbelly. Was she being hasty? She turned her head to see Patrick, just barely outlined with the low light in the room.

“Patrick?” She felt him shift in the sheets and heard a low, soft groan.


“Am I doing the right thing?” He fully turned to face her.

“I think only you know the answer to that. I don’t want to sway you one way or the other. It’s a big decision.” She sighed, nodding to herself in the darkness. “But for what it’s worth, based on what you’ve told me, I think you are.” She smiled at him briefly, forgetting he could hardly see.

“Would you go with me tomorrow? I don’t want to be alone.” A tear crept from the corner of her eye and caught in the pillow. Patrick reached out and grabbed her hand comfortingly, gently squeezing.

“Anything you need. I’ll be there.” She squeezed his hand back and rolled over to try and get to sleep.

Vvvvvvvbbbbbbt, vvvvvvvbbbbbt, vvvvvvvbbbbt.
Vvvvvvvbbbbbbt, vvvvvvvbbbbbt, vvvvvvvbbbbt.
Vvvvvvvbbbbbbt, vvvvvvvbbbbbt, vvvvvvvbbbbt.

Sarah awoke to her phone vibrating on the nightstand. Thinking nothing much of it, she sleepily grabbed it and was surprised to find numerous texts.

Bill: wow. you actually left. can’t fucking believe this.
Bill: how could you do this to me? you know how much I love family. why???????
Bill: when do you go to do it? so I know when to start mourning
Bill: who am I kidding, you probably ran there when you left
Bill: elisa just called me. said you fucked patrick a few months ago. wtf how long has this been going on?!?!?!?!?
Bill: probably his kid and that’s why you want the goddamn abortion. guess I dodged a bullet.
Bill: can’t believe I was thinking about asking you to marry me. bitch.
Bill: rot in hell, you nasty murderous whore. hope he knows what he got into sticking his dick in you

Sarah tried to contain herself, but her walls had already broken. Sobs shook her body. Goddamn it, Elisa. Why? As quiet as she tried to be, her sniffling and attempts to control her emotions eventually woke Patrick, who swiftly turned over.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Fuck. Still crying hysterically, she handed him her phone with the messages open. His eyes went wide as he went through them; when he finished, he put the phone on his nightstand and turned back to her. She was curled up away from him, shaking and near hyperventilation. He put a hand on her shoulder. “How can I help?”

“Please just hold me,” she choked out, her pillow soaked with tears and snot. He didn’t mind, he just curled up against her, spooning her carefully. He couldn’t help but notice how well they fit. As she sobbed in his arms, his heart broke for her, and tears slipped down his cheeks as he fought back the lump in his throat. He did the only other thing he could think of to help: sing her to sleep.

“Honey is for bees, silly bear. Besides there’s jellybeans everywhere. It’s not what it seems in the land of dreams, don’t worry your head just go to sleep. It doesn’t matter how you feel. Life is just a Ferris wheel; it’s always up and down. Don’t make a sound. When you wake up, the world will come around. When you wake up, the world will come around…”
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