FicWad

Thanks for the Memories
A/N: Hey everyone. I'm running out of things to tell you guys. BTW, I'm sorry for all the Andy fans, he'll not be making an appearance. I'll make up for it later.
Chapter 9
Only Lairs

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The world was white. Plain, dull, blank. Nothing was on the canvas. His feet hit the cold nothingness. A long white tunic was the only covering he was wearing. In the distance, a short, black clad figure stood.
"Pete!" Patrick called towards the figure.
"Patrick..." Pete called back and ran to him.
Pete was covered in a black makeshift cloak. His face was so dark in the white room. Their arms flew around each other.
"I thought I lost you." Pete said, not wanting to let go of Patrick's head.
"I thought so, too." Patrick laid his head in the space between Pete's head and shoulder.
There they stood in the brightness of the empty spaces, not once letting go. It seemed like years they walked alone, searching for one another. Never to the waking eye could they let each other know this, but they never wanted each other out of sight.
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In another lifetime he wouldn't have cared, in another memory he would have ignored this. But seeing him kiss that woman, run his hands through her hair, playing with one of her jean hoops, killed him softly. Didn't Pete realize what he felt; didn't the man see that this was wrong?
Patrick knew that it shouldn't hurt him to see Pete doing this. Pete had his own life, away from the madness of the Stump home. Just the nerve of him actually swapping spit with that...that...fan girl on his front walk was cutting into him like a knife. She had light blonde hair and way too many earrings in her left ear. Didn't Pete ever once think of how many different STDs that woman was probably housing at the moment?
After nineteen minutes and sixteen seconds of this disgusting act, Pete gave the girl a farewell and walked in the door. Acting as causal as he could, Patrick remained still on his new white and black couch, going through a magazine, which rested on his round stomach. Joe, sitting on the white chair, stared at him.
"Hey guys." Pete whistled to them as he threw his bag on the counter and went into the bathroom.
Patrick didn't want to be in a bad mood and tried not to start to cry, but it really started hurting. Joe must have saw his eyes beginning to redden and his body start to shake, because he helped him up and lead him to the bedroom. No, he wasn't crying, he couldn't let this get to him. When they were safely in the bedroom, Joe asked him what was wrong.
"It's just..." Patrick sighed. "I'm just sick of sitting here, literally barefoot and pregnant, while he is out parading girlfriend after girlfriend. I'm sick of being pregnant. I'm sick of my feet and back hurting. I'm just sick of it all."
Patrick confessed it all, everything about from kissing Andy to the dreams, to the feelings for Pete. At first it felt good letting it all out, but having Joe slap him didn't feel to grand.
"I'm sorry Patrick," Joe said. "But you have to face the facts. You are in love with Pete and you are just to chicken to tell him."
He was right, he did love Pete. Before he didn't really want to admit it, but he knew eventually he would have to. All he could do was nod.
"I think I do, you know." Patrick was still to afraid to say it.
"I think you do, too." Joe said. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, remembered Patrick's condition, and returned it.
The two smiled at each other, understanding. Joe got up, held onto Patrick's hands, and lifted him from the bed. But somewhere between up and down, a terrible pain stuck Patrick. He tried to ignore it, but it got too extreme.
"Something..."Patrick gasped and grabbed onto Joe's shoulder. "Something is going on, I...I think I'm going into labor! Oh my god, Joe, I'm in labor."
"You can't be!" Joe exclaimed. "You are only, only...not there yet!"
"26 weeks..." Patrick held onto Joe tighter. "Fuck, only 26 weeks. I can't, but I am. Pete!"
Patrick could no longer stand was fully dependant on Joe to keep him up. The younger man struggled to hold him, figuring the size problem. Joe kept trying to pull him over to the door, but Patrick wouldn't, no, couldn't move. Pete, strolling in from the bathroom, almost dropped dead in his tracks.
"What's going on?" Pete screamed and threw his arm around Patrick's waist.
"Pete..."Patrick cried. "I'm in labor."
"Shit!" Pete and Joe started off towards the car. Getting to the car wasn't that bad, getting in the car was the difficult part.
"Ok," Pete said as soon as they pulled from the driveway. "I have no clue what to do."
It was a long drive to the hospital, and Patrick didn't think he could make it. The pain was so intense and wouldn't stop. He was lying down in the back with his head to the window and Pete by his feet. Being forced to drive, Joe barked instructions from the front.
"The number one rule is breath." Joe said. "The technique is to breathe. Let's go, Patrick, let's get going with the breathing. Here, I'll count."
"Joe..."Patrick mumbled from behind.
"One, two, come on, I cant here you." Joe kept turning around.
"Joe." Patrick said again.
"Breathe, come on. You've seen the movies!"
"Joe, watch the fucking road!" Pete screamed.
Luckily, Joe just swirled away from a ditch. The quick movement made Patrick scream. Pete grabbed Patrick's hands and tried to reassure him. This was all happening way to fast. Suddenly, the car started to slow down, only to come to a complete halt.
"What...what happened?" Pete asked.
"We got a flat." Joe groaned. What luck, not only was he in the worst pain in his life, but he the car got a flat.
"We'll call an ambulance, alright, Patrick, you'll be alright." Pete said.
"Actually." Patrick sat up a bit. "I feel better."
"You what?" Joe asked, turning completely around.
"Yeah, the pain is gone." He smiled at the two.