Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Chicago Is So Two Years Ago
Chapter 2: My Badge, My Witness
0 reviewshm, i can't seem to remember...oh well! just read it and find out! but it's a little OOC, i think.
0Unrated
Arctic woke to the smoke alarm's shrill warning and darted out of Pete's spare bed into the hall only to find Patrick hovering over the stove with a fire extinguisher. Her jaw dropped and she knew, though she was piss tired, that there was no way she was going to be able to fall back asleep after that episode. She quietly slid into a chair at the table and rested her elbows on it to put her chin in her hands.
Patrick noticed her there and said, "Oh! I'm sorry! Did I wake you?"
She gave him an ironic look, which he missed, and said, "Oh, no, not really." He gave her a small smile and turned back to the sink with a spatula to try to pry off the black gritty substance that was a pancake in a former life.
"Arctic! What are you doing up?" Pete came in the kitchen bare-chested and in a pair of Nightmare Before Christmas pajama bottoms. She was still in her clothes from last night.
"Eh, complications in the kitchen," she said dryly, Patrick's eyebrows shot up. Pete grinned.
"Yeah, he tends to do that, you know," Pete replied. He went over to her and ran a thumb under her bruised eye, and his face softened. If there was anything that Arctic hated, it was pity and empathy for something from someone who had nothing to do with it. She roughly pushed his hand away, inadvertently brushing it against her bruise. She hissed in pain and looked away. Joe stopped in the kitchen doorway, laughed at Patrick, then proceeded over to the table where he set down a bag of McDonald's breakfast.
"Morning, Joe," Arctic said. He scooted around the table and kissed her on the cheek that wasn't affected by her injury.
"Morning, Arctic." He ran a hand through her waist-length natural white hair, her namesake, as Andy greeted her in the same fashion as Joe did.
"So you're living with Pete and Patrick, Arctic?" Andy asked as he lifted an Egg McMuffin out of the greasy bag. He looked at the filthy item with such a loathsome glare that it scared everyone. Then he threw it at Pete. "That's just gross, dude." Andy produced a small brown paper bag himself and took out a couple small Tupperware containers, a few pieces of fruit and a thermos of oatmeal. He got a couple bowls out of the cupboard and divided the contents of the thermos into them. He placed one of the bowls in front of Arctic, and sat down next to her. She grabbed the small container of raisins he brought and the other one of brown sugar and poured a bit of each into the bowl and mashed it all together.
"Thanks, Andy. You know me too well, there was no way that I was going to eat McDonald's or Patrick's cooking," she said when she finished. Andy nodded and swallowed the last of his oatmeal.
"So Arctic, why don't you tell us everything that's happened to you while you were at your parents'?" he questioned. Arctic's pale face hinted red and her surf blue eyes were glinting with warning signs, signs that Andy ignored and pressed on, which is unlike him. "Arctic, I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I want to help you, but I don't know how because you're blocking out all of us. Remember, back in sixth grade, when all of us met? How we met you?" Of course Arctic remembered, they were the only friends she had all through junior high and high school. She nodded miserably, feeling worse and worse by the second.
"Yes, Andy. I remember so well, you don't even know." Her voice was trembling, but in her head sirens were going off, and red lights were flashing. 'Don't tell them! They can't find out anything, my secrets, they'll use them against me!' But she was sick of hiding what she really wanted her friends to know. Andy nodded, egging her on.
"Tell us your thoughts, please, we want to know. We only know the story from our perspective, not yours," he pleaded softly. By this time, Joe, Pete, and Patrick had all taken seats and were casually looking around as not to make her nervous. She took a shuddering breath and began recalling the story of how they all met.
Patrick noticed her there and said, "Oh! I'm sorry! Did I wake you?"
She gave him an ironic look, which he missed, and said, "Oh, no, not really." He gave her a small smile and turned back to the sink with a spatula to try to pry off the black gritty substance that was a pancake in a former life.
"Arctic! What are you doing up?" Pete came in the kitchen bare-chested and in a pair of Nightmare Before Christmas pajama bottoms. She was still in her clothes from last night.
"Eh, complications in the kitchen," she said dryly, Patrick's eyebrows shot up. Pete grinned.
"Yeah, he tends to do that, you know," Pete replied. He went over to her and ran a thumb under her bruised eye, and his face softened. If there was anything that Arctic hated, it was pity and empathy for something from someone who had nothing to do with it. She roughly pushed his hand away, inadvertently brushing it against her bruise. She hissed in pain and looked away. Joe stopped in the kitchen doorway, laughed at Patrick, then proceeded over to the table where he set down a bag of McDonald's breakfast.
"Morning, Joe," Arctic said. He scooted around the table and kissed her on the cheek that wasn't affected by her injury.
"Morning, Arctic." He ran a hand through her waist-length natural white hair, her namesake, as Andy greeted her in the same fashion as Joe did.
"So you're living with Pete and Patrick, Arctic?" Andy asked as he lifted an Egg McMuffin out of the greasy bag. He looked at the filthy item with such a loathsome glare that it scared everyone. Then he threw it at Pete. "That's just gross, dude." Andy produced a small brown paper bag himself and took out a couple small Tupperware containers, a few pieces of fruit and a thermos of oatmeal. He got a couple bowls out of the cupboard and divided the contents of the thermos into them. He placed one of the bowls in front of Arctic, and sat down next to her. She grabbed the small container of raisins he brought and the other one of brown sugar and poured a bit of each into the bowl and mashed it all together.
"Thanks, Andy. You know me too well, there was no way that I was going to eat McDonald's or Patrick's cooking," she said when she finished. Andy nodded and swallowed the last of his oatmeal.
"So Arctic, why don't you tell us everything that's happened to you while you were at your parents'?" he questioned. Arctic's pale face hinted red and her surf blue eyes were glinting with warning signs, signs that Andy ignored and pressed on, which is unlike him. "Arctic, I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I want to help you, but I don't know how because you're blocking out all of us. Remember, back in sixth grade, when all of us met? How we met you?" Of course Arctic remembered, they were the only friends she had all through junior high and high school. She nodded miserably, feeling worse and worse by the second.
"Yes, Andy. I remember so well, you don't even know." Her voice was trembling, but in her head sirens were going off, and red lights were flashing. 'Don't tell them! They can't find out anything, my secrets, they'll use them against me!' But she was sick of hiding what she really wanted her friends to know. Andy nodded, egging her on.
"Tell us your thoughts, please, we want to know. We only know the story from our perspective, not yours," he pleaded softly. By this time, Joe, Pete, and Patrick had all taken seats and were casually looking around as not to make her nervous. She took a shuddering breath and began recalling the story of how they all met.
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