FicWad

For a man in my position, I was strangely calm. It was weird but all my life I seemed to be able to detach myself from situations. Like it wasn't me that it happened to but someone else or that it didn't even happen at all. Call it defence mechanism, call it what you will but it worked. Forgetting all about what never happened with Mikey seemed a little harder but I managed to at least ignore the urge to spill my guts to my boyfriend. That wouldn't help anyone, seriously.

I was going to call Mikey later as I'd promised. Admittedly, I was an asshole more times than I should be but I never broke promises. Never. I would go see him tomorrow too. It seemed the regular thing to do these days anyway, not like Gerard even had to ask. He was practically living with Becca. The two of them were always going out for meals, to the cinema or, surprisingly, the comic book store. Every chance he got to spend with her he took full advantage. Except for the Thursday. The Thursdays practically killed him. Every Thursday she would go see 'him'. The one she loved and hated most.

The route he took home was different to the one I usually took, a bit longer too, but it was familiar to me. Made me smile. It was the same route I followed the first day I met him, everything seeming unchanged, the kids playing in their yard, the dogs barking. It was strange but it made me think that though my life was so different now there was still a strange routine that seemed to occur. This constant lack of variation. Patrick took me away from that. By doing something as simple as not following the same road that I would have. It made me glad that I had him.

'You're a man of many surprises Stumph' I laughed, my legs crossed and arms stretched up, hand supporting the back of my head. Patrick giggled heartily like it was the funniest thing he'd heard in his life. 'What?'

'I… have never been called a man in my entire life' He kept his eyes focused on the road, a grin spread widely on his face and the odd snicker spilling out between words. 'And the way you pronounce my surname…'

'You've never been called a man?' My eyebrow raised, looking at him with a slight mocking glee. 'And what's wrong with the way I say Stumph? Not my fault your name is stupid'

'I'm just about eighteen' He explained, like I was supposed to get that. He shook his head and sighed. 'Most of my friends are younger than me. So I get called kid, dude or at the very most if there's adults around I get called sir. And by the way, my second name is Stumph. S-T-U-M-P-H. It's not pronounced Stoomph.'

'Geez, why don’t you just drop the h and change it to Stump' I snorted at my suggestion. I was joking but I noticed that Patrick was considering it. I rolled my eyes. 'Hi, My name is Patrick Stump'

'Martin' Patrick added, smiling at the road, a sly sideward glance in my direction.

'Patrick Martin Stump. Patrick Martin Stump' I repeated, testing. It didn't sound too bad actually. 'Patrick Martin Stumph. Patrick Martin Stoomph. P. Martin Stump. P. M. Stump. PMS.'

His initials were PMS? Let the taunting commence. I was just about to pass comment before I saw the most evil, warning look shot in my direction that sent a chill to my very core. Not even Ash had managed to shit me up that badly.

'Holy cow…' I inhaled under my breath, his head snapping back to watching the path ahead. 'I wasn't gonna say anything.'

'Whatever. Not all of us have fancy long-ass names that make us sound like a duke' He cawed in return, I looked at him questionably. 'The third? Who you trying to kid?'

'I happen to come from a long line of Pete Lewis Kingston Wentzs thank you' I argued, my arms crossed in faux-pissyness that I happen to have mastered over the years.

'Well, I come from a long line of Patrick Martin Stumphs' He answered defiantly, ignoring my best attempts to look angry and bemused. 'My dad is called Patrick Martin Stumph, as was his dad.'

'Wait…' I paused, recalling some information that I had stored up for when I eventually had to meet his parents. 'So your dad's name is Patrick Martin Stumph too?'

'Yeah, why?' Patrick pulled the car into my regular spot outside the apartment.

'And your mom's name is Patricia Stumph?' I asked, unclicking my belt and pushing the passenger side door open

'Yeah…' He too got up and out of the ugly car, locking it and throwing the keys to me.

'Irish much?' I smiled, finding myself so amusing that I literally was bent over double next to my car, the scowl on Patrick's face sending me even further into hysterics. 'Seriously, our kid is not getting called Patrick'

'Our kid?' He looked at me dubiously, not that I blame him because, hello! Two males.

'Yeah,' We walked towards the automatic entrance doors and waited patiently in front of the same slow moving elevators. 'I figure that I could squeeze one out in about a year or so'

'There something I should know?' Patrick chuckled, playing around with the peak of his hat, 'Cause if you do squeeze one out in about a year I'm gonna need my money back cause this isn't the product I ordered'

'What money?' I pushed, leaning back against the elevator wall and poking buttons. Sending a smile his way I crossed my arms. 'I don’t believe I remember you investing in me'

'You'll see' Patrick smirked out of the corner of his mouth. I was just stepping out of the elevator with him by my side, pacing towards my apartment, when he placed a hand on my chest and stopped me flat. 'Wait here, until I call you in'

'What for?' I enquired, puzzled by the sudden return of his mysteriousness. He was stopping me going into my own apartment?

'You'll see' Again with the same taunting tone that made me more than anything want to burst through my front door and just see whatever the hell he had done. Disappearing into my house he made sure to open and close the door so damn carefully that I couldn't see inside.

What was he doing now? A list of worse case scenarios exploded in my head. Hemmy was dead, he was hiding it from me. He'd packed my bag and was kicking me out. Ash was there. Dear god, I hoped not. He was throwing a party for me. It was my birthday soon after all. Then again, I'm pretty sure he didn't know my birthday. Maybe he was staying calm all the way home, about to spring on me that the jig was up. Oh god. Investing in me. Was he about to tell me about all the time he's wasted on me, all the faith he's wasted on me? Oh god. Was he going to finish it?