FicWad

Meg looked at the crowd in front of her, her eyes scanning their actions, responding only to the music being played by the musicians in front of them.

Faces. Million of faces. Mouths, saying millions of words, trillions of emotions being expressed.


Music. Passionate, complete. Loud and honest. They hadn't known. Meg had quietly stepped out of the picture for two weeks. Millions of texts had been received, but all she could do was respond saying, "I'm still alive and I still love you all."

She knew the decision she had to make and really, she was perfectly happy to make it after giving it any thought at all. A sense removed is a sense gained, really, but what about a sense gained, and a sense gained? Seem redundant?

Beautifully.


After a 3-day stay in the hospital, and a week for the scarring to become less noticeable, Meg text Mal, simply saying, "I'm going home. Don't be there. I'll see you all tonight."


Mal was floored at the sudden re-appearance of her friend, but we all know Mal. Seconds later, at the arrival of Pete, she'd put Meg to the back of her mind, and put Pete at the front. Yeah, you know what I mean.

And hat boy? Well, he'd busied himself in the task of remixing and producing and tweaking and singing and writing, and hiding. Without her being a part of his day-in and day-out, there wasn't a whole lot to make him smile. Patrick was positive she was still his, but him minus her equaled work. And only work.





She remembered her first concert of theirs. Silent, but the passion reverberated. It bounced off of the walls and the ceilings, through the hearts and heads of the listeners, into her soul. She could feel it. She could feel him. Like she could feel the ivory keys beneath her fingers or the plush carpet of her apartment beneath her feet, she could feel him. That feeling hadn't gone away. They were connected. They were created to fit perfectly together.

Neither of them could forget it, despite the "mystery distance".


Now, he was in front of her again. His forehead shining with sweat and his face displaying nothing but love for his art. She admired him and his fingers skillfully worked the guitar, becoming his own, becoming an invention. An embodiment of his thoughts and ideas.


He suddenly felt a chill, but quickly shook it off. It was a thousand degrees on that stage and the chances of that chill being anything but excitement were next to nothing.

Again, a chill.

Patrick opened his eyes, looking up, and connecting with a pair of hazel eyes that he knew so well, that he'd connected with so many times before.

Meg.

She smiled, and he smiled back, forgetting where he was. Forgetting the instrument over his shoulder and in his hands. Forgetting the three other guys on stage with him. Forgetting his own name.


Remembering only this girl that he was so bound to.


Pete noticed it, and looked out into the crowd, doing his best to follow the gaze of his friend. Then, he saw her too. He flashed a Wentz smile, knowing that maybe now, Patrick would be back. Why wouldn't he be? Meg was.



Meg made way to Mal.


"Hey." She said, sneaking up on her best friend. Mal turned and looked, smiling like she hadn't in days at the sight of her best friend. Her sister. She lifted her hands to sign, but Meg stopped her.

"Talk to me. I want to know how you sound." Mal stared, wide-eyed.


"You can-"


"I can hear you. I can hear all of this." Mal hugged Meg and spoke.

"I know you'd chose it. I knew that's why you'd been gone. I knew it. You hadn't mentioned the surgery in months but I know you better than that. I'm inside that pretty head of yours and I knew it. Have you heard Patrick?" Meg smiled.

"I've heard Pete screaming, but Patrick singing? No. I just got here." Mal smiled.

"Go to the front. Let him see you."


"He knows I'm here." A confused look made it's way across Mal's face.

"He can feel me here. It's just this thing we do." Mal nodded, and then thought for a second. Suddenly, she slapped her friend on the arm.

"What the hell?"

"You skank. You could have at least told me you were going." Meg laughed.


"And you wouldn't have told anyone?" Mel stared for a second, and then replied, indignantly.

"No, as a matter of fact. My mouth would have been shut." Meg laughed loudly.

"Yeah, okay." Mal smiled a little, and pushed Meg.

"Go up there. Go be with him."

Suddenly, the music stopped. Okay, not so suddenly, but Meg hadn't been paying much attention when the end of the song came, so, for the sake of the story, it was suddenly. What I say, goes.


"This is something we don't do, just because...it's cliché, but I have a little bit of a request." Pete spoke into the microphone and Meg's ears heard his voice for the first time.

It was deep, and gentle, and exactly what she'd expected it to be. She smiled up on hearing it for the first time.

"I know you could hear me." He said, noticing her smile. "Get up here, crazy girl."

Meg's eyes widened, matching Patrick's as she made her way to the stage.


Pete grabbed her hands as he pulled her onto the stage with the help of the security at the front of the stage.


And there, in that moment, for the first time in what seemed like ages, Patrick pulled her to him, and kissed her.


"You can hear me?" She smiled and kissed him again, letting his voice sink into her head, her heart, her whole entire body. This was it. This was the only guy she knew she'd ever need.

"Sing." She whispered, pressing her forehead against his.

"You know what?" He whispered back, still leaning against her.

"What?"

"I got you." She smiled, and kissed him, pulling away quickly.

"For a good, long time." She said, and he pulled his forehead away from hers, redirecting his focus to his music.


Meg walked to the side of the stage as the music began. After a short introduction that actually seemed like an eternity, he inhaled, and sang.

And you know what? She melted. It was the most piercing, sincere sound she'd ever known....not that she knew many. He was inside of her. She loved him, and she always would.

She changed her mind that day.

He wasn't gray. He wasn't a shadow.



He was a solid, sustaining figure in her life. He was her inhale and exhale. He was he morning and night.

He was Blue. He was her heaven.


And she was his.