FicWad

About a week later Patrick was supposed to come home. I imagined him to still be weak. I imagined he would look so different. So pale and thin. Almost like only half of him was there.
Joe and Pete made me stay home for fear of Beckett and his men. I sat impatiently in a chair Andy gave me; he stayed behind to keep me company.
"Where are they?" I wined impatiently.
Andy laughed and shook his head. "Chill." He sighed leaning back.
I don't know how he can be so calm. I missed everything about him, his crooked smile, his chameleon eyes, and the way he always smelled of soap ands cologne. How come he never missed that? Did a hippie always act stoned? No, not every hippie was a stoner too. The old Caddy pulled up slowly. I squirmed in my seat, damn me and my impatience. I could see the shadowy figure in the back, Patrick. I jumped up when the door slowly opened. But I stopped short, Patrick wasn't with them. Pete climbed out slowly; his eyes were red and puffy. Something was wrong, where was Patrick?
"He's fine." Pete assured me smiling at my face. "He's right here."
There he was sleeping beside him. He looked so peaceful, even though he was sick. I sighed in relief and gently shook him awake.
"Patrick?" I cooed "Wakeup, you're home now."
He stirred lightly and looked up at me. He did look a little different; his eyes were different, like the life had been sucked out of him. But then again, he had been in the hospital for some time.
"Note to self, never get smashed like that ever again." He laughed.
"No, never." I smirked, lacing my hand with his. "Let me help you into the bunker."
He nodded and put his arm around my shoulder. We walked as one, our legs moving at the same time. Like a three legged race. I got him inside and sat him down in a chair. He let out a sigh and looked at me. I smiled and kissed his cheek.
"Please don't scare me like that ever again." I whispered.
"Never again." He agreed, even his voice sounded different.
"How do you feel?" I asked quietly.
"Fine." He got up. "Better than fine."
"You don't look fine." I mumbled looking down.
"I am." He insisted.
With that he pulled me into a kiss, on the lips. But it wasn't right. They didn't feel like his lips, those weren't his rough hands at my hips, it wasn't his warm breathe on my face. I went limp, my arms at my sides. He forced his tongue in my mouth, something really wasn't right. Why did his mouth taste like blood? I pushed him away, he pushed back.
No, I wasn't going to let this happen. I'm not that stupid to think this was really Patrick. Get yourself out of this, Alex. This time I pushed him away with so much force he fell backward onto the ground. He wiped his mouth of the blood. At some point he bit my lip, sending blood into mine and his mouth.
"What the hell was that for!?" He spat getting up.
"You sure as shit know what that was for!" I said grinding my teeth.
"Isn't it what you wanted?" He asked confused.
"Not like that." I said looking at him shocked.
"Whatever that the last time I try and make things romantic." He huffed pushing past me. I followed him; this conversation was far from over.
"And what is romantic to you, Patrick?" I questioned. "Cause I learned a long time ago forcing yourself on someone is not romantic."
"What do you know?" He snapped, looking at me with fiery eyes. "The only person you ever fucked was Jason, remember?"
"Oh and you're supposed to be that expert of sex, is that it?" My voice quivered.
"No but I sure as hell know more than you do." He said looking away from me almost crying.
"That's a nice thought." I sniffed.
"I bet." He remarked. "Just don't think about me, ever!"
"Fine! Just tell me when the Patrick I know and love rein habits you body." I stormed out of the room past Joe who was drawn to the sound of our arguing.
I went into my room and flopped down onto the bed. I started to sob, so much that I didn't hear the door open or the bed shift. It was Pete. I could tell the minute I quieted myself down to hear.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked in a soothing, father-like voice.
"How can someone change in a few short weeks?" I questioned getting up on my elbows.
"Sometimes change isn't the worst thing that can happen." He sighed "Did you ever think what was going through Patrick head when he did that?"
I stopped to think, he was right. "Do you think he thought that's what I wanted?"
He nodded and smiled. "Girl's getting to smart for her own good."
I laughed and kissed his cheek, like a sister. "What would I do without you, Pete?"
"Probably die." He smirked, ducking as I threw a pillow at him.
I got up and decided to let him cool down before I talked to him. Why is it that I can fall back on him? On any of them? Maybe trust isn't taught, it's born with the person.