Pete's fingers are cold and his tears are dried, he feels so dead inside, so far gone. He doesn't know if he's coming back this time. He doesn't.  He doesn't. He doesn't.

The wind is whipping at him, pulling him back and blowing him around from where he stands on top of that roof and stares down at the ground so far below.

He can't fail. He won't fail. Not this time. Not ever again. Because he was a fucking coward when he pulled out the Ativan in the car. Because he can do so much better.

Because he can't bare living anymore.

"PETE!"

Patrick screams loud and shrill as the door leading to the roof bursts open and he comes rushing out, panic in his movement and eyes.

"Go away, Patrick," Pete mumbles, taking a small step forward, "I'm done now. It's over. I'm gonna die. Just shut up and go away."

Patrick seized him, pulling him back, crying and screaming about how he needs to think this through but it's utter bullshit. Pete has thought this theeoufh. So much. He's nearly gone insane doing nothing but thinking it through. It's over now. The life of Pete is fine for.

"Please, Pete," Patrick chokes. Pete yanks himself away and walks back up to the ledge.

He's leaving because he deserves it. Because he can't take living. He's too sad to carry on.

Because Patrick could never love him.

Pete shuts his eyes, taking a breath because it's now or never. Because it's here or then.

"Bye, Trick," Pete mumbles before the blond can get to him.

He takes a step off the building and in a soft whisper as he feels all control leave his palms and he tips, he mumbles to himself something that Patrick just barely catches before he's gone.

"I always loved you."

He's not alive long enough to hear Patrick say it back.