Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Master of the Game.

You Got Me All Wrong.

by ClandestineUnited 3 reviews

A breakdown and shattered dreams. Poor Patrick, holds himself together for the sake of others around him. But when he needs a hug - you just want to make him feel all right again, don't you? They...

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Published: 2007-05-30 - Updated: 2007-05-30 - 1519 words

Once again, thank you for the rates and reviews!

"You know who we'll be like, right?" Patrick said.
"We'll be like Ross and Rachel. You know, from Friends. They have a baby but aren't together."
"Patrick, why do you insist on comparing life to TV shows and movies?"
Patrick paused and bit his lip, wondering if the question was rhetorical or not. He had done that so many times in the past, answered a question that hadn't meant to be answered. He settled for a shrug, at least if the question hadn't meant for an answer he could pass it off as shifting around on the couch.
"Aw, come on. It would be great, I have a brand new house and I'd be here if you needed me."
"Patrick, no, I have a life with Danny."
Patrick mimicked her under his breath and turned his attention back to the TV. He had invited Christina over to see his new house, perhaps in a desperate attempt for her to see how organized he was, and not he was trying to bribe her to live with him in the new house, stating that they could be parents but not together. She was less than impressed with the cribs the guys had bought for Patrick.
"And they cost like, what, twelve bucks each?"
"Christina! They cost like two hundred dollars /each/."
"They're gross." She stuck her nose up at them and peered around the room which Patrick was in the middle of painting.
"Well, you won't have to worry, because you won't see them in these cribs." Patrick said.
"I'll worry if my children grow up to be transsexuals because of this paint! Are you kidding? Yellow?"
"Yellow's for unisex." Patrick replied. "You know, if it's a boy and a girl - then yellow is a compromise. And if it's two boys, it's not girly. And if it's two girls, it's not too boy-ish."
"Yeah, OK. Try telling them that when your son starts parading round in your wife's underwear." Christina taunted, her eyes on stalks. Patrick scowled at her.
"You know what, if you don't like this room the way it is, why don't you move in and decorate it yourself?"
"Oh yeah, like I can really do that. I don't know if you've noticed, Patrick, but I'm nearly seven months pregnant."
"Definitely hadn't forgotten." Patrick said, eyeing her stomach uneasily.
"What?" She snapped, spotting his gaze.
"Nothing..." He trailed off, trying to find anything to distract her.
"Oh, hey, what about these?" Patrick asked, leading her over to the closet where he had drawers inside, filled with the baby clothes the guys had bought.
"Oh, what the hell is that?" Asked Christina, when Patrick held up a mini denim jacket.
"It's a jacket. Duh." He sighed. "Let me guess, you don't like it."
"No. It's disgusting. My children are not wearing that."
"So what exactly do you want, Christina?" Patrick asked, throwing down the jacket suddenly. "Because nothing I seem to be doing is right!"
Christina opened her mouth but Patrick cut in, holding his hand up.
"No, listen to me. I'm trying to create the best environment for my children, and I'm really trying hard. The reason I bought this house was for them. The reason I'm decorating, me! Painting and plastering wall paper to walls and trying to baby proof every single corner of this house!"
"Look, I realize this is hard on you, I know it can't be easy being pregnant, especially with twins, I get that, I really do, but you're not the only one this is hard on! I'm finding it so hard to cope with the fact that the day they're born, you're the one gonna be going home with them. I'm finding it hard to settle in a new house so soon, and it's hard adjusting to life knowing in two months, I'm gonna be a father."
"I know!"
"I'm scared, Christina! I thought I was ready for this, my whole life I've known I wanted to have children, but now it's drawing nearer, I'm scared. And you're not helping me, I'm helping you, and you're not returning the favor. Nothing I'm doing at the moment is right. Nothing I buy for my children is suitable. Nothing they have to wear is /nice/, and I'm sorry, but as long as they live under my roof - things will be done my way. In your house they can sleep in whatever cribs you've gotten from a fifty cent store, or clothes that are meant to be handed down in generation, or they can bash that Danny guy's head in with their rattles, whatever, as long as they're OK, they can do what they want. You raise them in your house the way you want. Within reason. But when they come here, I'm sorry, but they will sleep in those cribs, and they will wear those clothes, and they will be comfortable in a room that is painted yellow!" He gasped, out of breath from talking faster and raising his voice. He watched Christina, waiting for a reaction, but she seemed to be taking in all of what he'd just said.
"I'm sorry, but this way, I think it's only fair I get to lay down some rules too. Because I'm not the one who will be there 24/7."
"I know. I know." Christina repeated, pulling him closer, as close as her stomach would allow. He was on the verge of breaking down, because he'd been so focused on getting everything ready and accepting the fact he was going to be a dad, he'd never really taken in the details.
"I'm scared, Christina. I want to be part of them." He whispered into her shoulder. "I want to be there when they start to talk, and I want to be the one they call in the night when they have a nightmare. I want to be able to say 'it's OK, baby, mommy and daddy are here.'. But I can't. I never will."
"Patrick, it's OK. It's OK." She said, rubbing his back.
"Where did everything get so fucked up?" He asked, shaking his head slowly.
"I don't know."
"I'm terrified. They're not going to know me."
Christina held Patrick at arm's length and looked him in the eyes.
"They will know you. They're gonna grow up knowing fully who their daddy is, and what a wonderful man he is. And they're gonna know the reason you won't always be around is because you work hard for them, and I'll tell them it's also partly because mommy and daddy don't love each other anymore."
Patrick's eyes stung, along with his chest. He stepped back out of her grasp.
"Don't love each other anymore?" He repeated in a whisper. It was a whisper that made his voice crack, whether it was about to break into a scream or a flood of tears. He swallowed and repeated it again.
"Don't love each other anymore? You think, you're trying to... I fucking love you!"
"I didn't say..."
Patrick screamed, his months, years of anger and rejection and composing himself bursting out of him in an explosion that for once had Christina scared of him.
"Oh my God! You are so fucking idiotic! You just said you would tell our children mommy and daddy don't love each other anymore. Well, I have news for you, Christina. I love you more than anything. The past few months, when I've been doing all this thinking, I've been trying to get you out of my head. Trying to accept the fact that you've moved on, and from now on in my life you're just my baby's mother. It's been so damn hard, and I can't do it. Because I'm so head over heels, wanna slit my own throat in love with you. You're my life, you're carrying on my life with carrying those children, and you're everything I could possibly want, and more. And I can't get over my own bad damn fucking luck that you fell in love with that Danny guy when we were together. And that I'm never going to get the chance to say 'I do', to you. I love you more than life itself, and it's driving me insane because I miss you so much and I can't get over you. You might have moved on, but I don't think I can. As long as you're the mother of my children, I'll love you until the day I die. Because you're my one and only. The only girl I've ever imagined being with until we're old. And to think you threw all of that away for some cheap guy who can't in a million years love you one inch of how I do..."
He broke off as he saw Christina in tears, apologizing over and over.
"I'm sorry, Patrick. I'm sorry. I really am."
"Sorry's not good enough. I'll love you until the end, Christina."

I got the 'head over heels, wanna slit my own throat in love with you.' line from Friends. So Copyright goes to that.
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