Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Car Crash Hearts

Stitiches Stitched, Fixes Fixed

by scarrlifigous 1 review

And so we continue. :] *busts a move*

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Parody - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2007-03-18 - Updated: 2008-06-26 - 1795 words

Rain was falling once again in rhythmic patterns down the panes of the glass outside the window, illuminated by light filtering from a lamp outside. I scooted closer to the slightly damp wihdow and traced a pattern in the mist left on the iced pane.

I hadn't even gotten to the third letter of 'help' when it faded into nothingness again.

I sighed and stood up again, making sure not to step on the floorboards that creaked. I gently lowered myself onto a corner of the bed, then eased slowly and quietly along the edge until I found a place I could climb under the covers. I scrunched down protectivley in them until only my eyes were visible and pulled him to me.
The blue fur darkened and lightened in the weak lamplight as I stroked it one way and then the other. His arms were open wide in a hug that seemed to wait an eternity for somebody to fall into them, but in one, glued to his mitten-hand, was a small cookie. His heart.

Quickly I shot a glance at the bedside clock, daring the time. It was exactly 4:20am, the date I'd been born. Unlike most people, I didn't wish on the 11:11 standards. It was too common. Too used.

I closed my eyes and wished I could die.


"Its okay, Sabrina. It'll be okay."

He brushed my brown bangs away from my forehead and made me look into his chocolate-brown eyes.

"How do you know, Petey?"

"I just do."

The silence that reigned then, after that sentence, hurt like a knife had finally managed to slice into our bond, our friendship.

"I don't wanna go." I said finally. "What if I never see you guys again? We promised we'd be together...till we die."

Petey gave a small laugh and sat closer to me.

"Ehh, don't get all sappy on me." He insisted, blushing hard, something rare. "We'll be here, me and Joey. I promise. Then, when we're finally old enough, we'll all go far away from here and live together, and Joey'll look after you and you'll look after me. Like always."

I let out a sigh and a giggle at the same time and bit my lip.

Like always.

"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz, godammit, you'd better be."

He smiled at me, that big, winning half-grin, the one that would one day reign as theee smile, and I found myself getting lost in it; it was so comforting and familiar and full of a delicate kind of warmth. Something finally made me start paying attention to what was going on--something that shattered my sense of protection.

I don't know what made him do it, but suddenly he leaned close forward and caught the side of my mouth with his lips. He pulled away at once, blushing furiously a blotchy crimson colour that looked like poorly mixed paint.

"Sorry, I kinda missed."

He didn't know where to look after that. He sat back against the wall too quickly and bit his lip. The moonlight seeping through the window reflected what had to be my spit shining around his mouth.

Mt heart was pounding a hollow in my chest as I wiped the side of my mouth expreimentally and found it dry, though.

"What was that for?" I said finally.

"...The kiss?"

"World's worst kiss, by the way." I felt sarcasm fill the cracks that had tried to break my voice, a sorry excuse for understanding.

"Sorry," he said again. Now his flushed face was clearly visible in the near-darkness. "It was my first try, give me a break."

"Twelve and never kissed?"

"I'll be thirteen soon!"

"That just makes it more pathetic."

"Why?" He shot back. "Who've you been kissing?"


His face fell and he looked away. "Oh."

It hurt to see him like that. Maybe because it just wasn't Petey to be on the pathetic end of the stick.
My Petey.
It made me I lean forward and hug him.

"Just kidding, Petey. You happen to be my first, too. But Joey's gonna kill you."

He made a high-pitched noise in his throat and shook his head violently.

"He can spare one kiss."

He let me hug him for a second, then let out a huge sigh and got to his feet heavily, dragging me with him.

"I gotta go." He said. "I dunno if Joey and the others know I'm missing from our room yet."

He pulled gently away from me and fumbled in his hoodie pocket. "Wait, um, I got you this."

I watched as he pulled out a furry blue thing and handed it to me. It's arms were already open in a hug for me.

"Remember when I always used to steal your cookie at snack time and you'd bite me to give it back? This is so you'll always remember me--as the Cookie Monster." He said with a shifty smile. "And---and so Walbut Gabs Marquee can finally rest in peace."



I heaved a short breath and pushed my bangs back frustratedly, gathering the back of my chestnut hair in a loose knot as I sat heavily on a swing and coiled one arm through the chain.

For the entire first week I'd been here, I'd stopped by the park at least once a day. It was the only place I could be left alone.

Resting my head against the cool metal rope, I pushed off lazily from the ground and closed my eyes.

The sun was midset over the rim of the earth and the ridges created by houses reaching stubbornly for the sky; the air seemed frozen in another life, the breeze that had been escapading bravley across it had weakened and dropped.
The world was still.

My feet dragged through the dust, back and forth, lulling me to sleep when I heard footsteps. Jerking my head up, I knew the little kids had come to run me off with accusing stares from their taunt-faced mothers.

It was a little boy with wide hazel eyes. He walked all the way around the swings and stood right in front of me with his hands firmly planted on his hips. I dragged my toes in the dirt to stop myself swinging into him. He stood his ground, shook back his thick black hair and stared up at me.

"Hi. I'm Hayden. What'cha doing?"

I eyed the brave little boy and crossed my legs off to the side. "What's it look like, kid?"

Hayden cocked his head and looked directly at me. "I think you're swinging."

"Good job, kid---"

"--but you're reals bad at it." He finished.

I looked at him. "And you think you could do better?" I shot back. Ahh, I'm arguing with a five-year-old. Why does that not surprise me?

Hayden smiled and climbed up, with some difficulty, into the remaining swing. "I knows so."

He swung his short little legs back and forth, his face crinkled with effort, until finally he managed to get enough momentum to start moving. Then he moved his swing from side to side and went higher still.

"Like that," Hayden called down to me, as if he were lecturing me. "This is how you do it."

Suddenly, he lost his seat and leaned too far forward. He waved his arms wildly, trying to maintain his balance, but he fell off, as if in slow motion, and landed with a resounding smack in the grass.


I jumped off my swing and ran to the kid. He hadn't moved from where he'd crash-landed.


The god-awful noise kids make when they're hurt, even scratched, is more than I can take. It makes me want to start screaming too.

Hayden, however, was silent.

Did he die?
"Hayden? Kid, are you okay?"

I kneeled next to him and shook his shoulder roughly, and when he didn't move, I finally rolled him over.

He looked stupefied.

His eyes were completely blank as he turned them on me. "What happened?"

I knit my brow and resisted the urge to run away. Did he have amnesia or something?

"You fell, kid."

Hayden's face immediately clouded over. "Oh no, I messed up!" He insisted.
He looked like he might cry.

Hurriedly, I sat him up and settled down beside him. "No you didn't. You just....fell. There is a difference."

He looked at me with his huge eyes. "Can you teach me? To swing?"

Utterly confused, I crossed my arms. "You just said I couldn't swing. And anyway, shouldn't you be getting home? Where's you mom? Didn't she ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

His little lip quivered. "I don't have a mommy. She went away." He cast an anxious glance at the ground.

Crap how much worse can I make this? He probably hates my guts by now.

I stood up and put out my hand. My voice trembled as I spoke. "It's okay. I don't have one either."

Hayden looked up again. His eyes, if anything, got wider. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Hayden took my hand and I pulled his little body up. "Will you walk with me to my home, lady?"

I hesitated. Some strange little kid wants somebody he just met to walk home. But what else did I have to do?


"We're almost there!" Hayden sang. He pulled on my arm with his little hand clasped through mine and skipped down the street.

"What, this one?" I paused on the sidewalk of a small ranch house with faded sky-blue panels and a cherrywood-red front door.


I let Hayden pull me halfway up the driveway before I shook my hand free from his. This was as far as I intended to go.

"Come on lady!"

"I told you, kid, I have a name. It's Sabrina."

Hayden shook his head and pulled my hand again. "I gots a name too, and its /HAYDEN/," he said stubbornly, crossing his arms. "I like lady better anyways. Now let's go! I wanna show you all my toyses and my pokemon cards and my Bionicle set--I got a green and a blue and a black--and my Card master kit and my magic set and my---"

"Okay okay I get the point. But I have to go home too. Maybe some other time."
Maybe never.

Hayden scrunched up his face in a pout. "Fine. Next time. Promise?" He held out his tiny pinky finger.

"Promise." I said guiltily, looping my finger through his. Hayden took that as satisfactory, though, and skipped up the drive.

I started quickly back down the street and just as I was turing the corner, out of the corner of my eye I saw Hayden standing on the front porch waving frantically.

"Bye lady!" He called.
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