Sorry guys, but I've only planned two more chapters. (Including the epilogue, and three if you count Ch. 24 part 2) This will be one of the last chapters of this story. There will not be a sequel.

Dedication to frnkieromustdye. You've deserved a dedication for a while now.

The one thing we can never get enough of is love.

And the one thing we never give enough of is love.

*6 hours earlier*

What had I just done?

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Patrick threw the box he was holding into Pete's arms and dashed to my side. I didn't say anything as I dropped to my knees. Patrick put his hands on my shoulders. "Skye, are you okay?" I continued to sink to the ground.

He turned around "Pete! Do something!" He screamed frantically. He kneeled down and looked me in the eyes with his own tear-filled ones. "Skye, please say something. Are you okay?" He whispered.

"M-my mom." Was all I could manage to get out.

"What about her?" He frantically questioned me. "What did she do to you?"

"S-she was h-here, and s-she-" I breathed. I didn't know what to say.

Pete returned with gauze and some medical anti-biotic wipes or something. "You're not cut deep enough to go to the hospital. Just talk to Patrick as I clean you up. If it hurts, just squeeze my hand."

"I-I was watching my siblings, and they said s-someone was at the d-door. I opened it and s-she was standing t-there. I slammed the d-door but her foot was there." I said in one breath, as I began to slowly rock back and forth.

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, she's gone. Calm down. What did she do?" Patrick moved out of Pete's way so he was sitting beside me, with an arm draped over my shoulder.

"S-she was b-blaming me for the d-death of my D-dad. We were screaming and she p-pinned me to the wall and held a knife to my throat." I had tears beginning to form in my eyes. "I'm a monster," I whispered.

"You're not a-"

"Yes I am!" I interrupted. "I-I'm not done! She let go of me and I-I pushed her against the w-wall. I-I let her fall and I just started k-kicking her. I couldn't s-stop. I thought of all the times s-she did it to me and it felt.... G-good. I'm a terrible person. I practically t-threw her out of the window. I'm awful-"

"Hey". Patrick interrupted and I looked up at him through my tears. "I'm proud of you. You stood up to her. You did it out of self-defense. I hope you scared her off." He leaned over and pressed his lips to my forehead. "You're so strong. I'm proud of you."

I managed a small smile as he pulled me in closer. "Thanks." I winced as Pete cleaned up my neck. He quickly wrapped it in gauze and started cleaning my hands.

"You're all good now. I'll go talk to your siblings, if they heard anything, they're probably terrified." Pete stood up.

"Just don't teach Ryan any more curse words," I called after him.

He turned on his feet. "That was one time!" He whined before running off.

"Typical Pete, huh?" Patrick said.

I turned so I was facing him, and he put his other arm around me and pulled me onto his lap. I burying my face in his chest as I let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, he's a great influence." He whipped my tears and kissed my forehead once more.

We sat like that forever, with him constantly kissing my forehead and telling me how proud of me he was. If I could go back and freeze time, I would go back to that moment. I could hear his heartbeat skip a beat every now and then, and feel his warmth radiating off of him. I never wanted to move. I lifted up my head to plant a soft kiss on his lips. I broke the silence that had surrounded us for so long.

"I love you." I breathed and looked into his eyes. "I know it's soon, but I mean it. And with everything going on, I need to say it. I need you to know."

He just looked at me, and I feared that he was going to think I was some creepy clingy girlfriend. "Say it again."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Say it again."

"I love you, Patrick." His lips curved into a small smile. Not a fake smile that he wore oh-so-often when the world wanted so much from him. It was one of those rare smiled that reached his eyes.

He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead.

"I love you too."

*Patrick's POV*

She loves me.

Not even an hour ago, the girl of my dreams told me that she loves me.

I was the happiest I could be. I walked down the streets of downtown Chicago, smiling to myself like an idiot. I decided to get Skye a present, but I didn't know what to get her just yet. I had ordered her bass and picked it up earlier that day. It was sitting in a box under my bed, and I was planning on giving it to her tonight, but I wanted to give her something else. Not something cheesy like flowers or chocolate. The chocolate would be gone, and the flowers would die. I wanted to give her something that showed my love for her, and that love would never die. But by the end of the night, I was still stumped. 

I took the long way home, weaving in and out of the streets of the sleepless city. I soon found myself wandering by the alley where I found Skye lying on the concrete ground, covered in blood. It was the night I realized that I was in love with her, but it was one of the worst nights of my life.

"Hey, aren't you Patrick Stump?" I turned around to see a middle-aged woman facing me. Most of our fanbase was a bit younger, but hey, a fan is a fan.

"Yes, I am." I straightened up, trying to look professional. Something about her was...off. Is that trace amounts of... blood on her neck?

She grabbed me by the collar, and shoved me into the wall, dragging me across it and into the alley.

"I don't think we've met." She whispered into my face. Her breath reeked of alcohol and I winced. "I'm Vanessa, Vanessa Black." My stomach dropped and my eyes bulged out of my head.

"You monster." I spat. This was the woman who caused Skye so much pain. This was the woman who made her fear for her life. This was the woman who led her to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. This was the woman who nearly killed Skye. This was the woman who was my worst enemy.

"I see you've heard of me." She trailed her finger down the side of my face, similar to the way Elisa had. "Perhaps you've met my pathetic excuse for a daughter?"

"Excuse you?" I snarled and pushed her off me. I placed my foot on her chest so she couldn't move. "You're the pathetic one. You don't deserve to be called her mother."

She only smiled, and I suddenly felt sick. "You've just made a big mistake, son."

She grabbed my leg and flipped me onto my side. The wind got knocked out of me, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. Every breath I took was a gasp for air. How pathetic I was, that I couldn't fend for myself. She came over and began to kick me in the ribs, worsening the problem. The breaths I managed to take were becoming quicker and heavier. The pain was unbearable. It felt like being smothered by a thousand pillows on fire while being stabbed in the stomach with multiple daggers.

"Please." I chocked, tasting blood and tears when I opened my mouth. My face must have scraped against the pavement when I fell. "S-stop."

She only laughed. "That's what I said to your girlfriend. But she didn't and now that I can't kill her..." Her face twisted into a sick smile. I felt a small wave of relief when she stopped. But the relief went away when she kneeled down to face me. "I'll have to settle for killing you."

She must have seen the look of worry spread over my face. "Oh, don't worry. You won't go immediately. I'll make sure you suffer immensely." She cackled.

"You're sick." I managed to say. I gathered up the small strength I had and spit in her face.

Her smile fell. "You want to die quickly?" She asked. "I can manage that."

And that's when she pulled the gun out of her pocket and pointed it at my head.

She stood up and walked away. "You see, I just can't get any blood on me. Or get any of my gunpowder on you. You know, stuff that will link me to murder." She dragged out the last word and I closed my eyes, not wanting her to be the last thing I saw.

They say that when you're about to die, your life passes before your eyes.

But that's not true. You only see the things from your life that you love.

And before my mind turned black, all I could think of was Skye.

*Skye's POV*

"They seem to be okay. They didn't hear much. They locked themselves in the bathroom and turned on the sink and the shower so they couldn't hear anything." Pete had emerged from the bathroom where Ryan and Rose were hiding and plopped down next to me on the couch. "They're smart kids, you know. They're only three but they're so mature."

I sat down my glass of soda in front of me. "Yeah, they didn't have much time to be kids." I sighed. "That's one of the two things I wish I did I better job of. I wish I had spoken out sooner. Whether it had been running away, standing up to her, going to the police, whatever, I wish I did it sooner. Then I wouldn't be in this mess. And I wish I had protected them more. They went through things no three-year-old should ever go through."

"They turned out alright though," Pete commented. "I mean, at least you're there for them. I haven't seen my five-year-old son in months. And I have another child on the way, and I would do anything to see my girlfriend."

"I'm sorry." I really didn't know what to say. He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and opened it.

"That's my son, Bronx, on the left. And that's my girlfriend, Meagan, on the right." He pointed to a picture of each of them.

"Awe, Bronx is so cute! And wow, even Meagan is taller than you? Is Bronx taller than you, too?" I laughed.

"Shut up." He whined as his phone rang. "Huh, I don't recognize it. It's probably work." He stood up to take the call as I went into my room to get Ryan and Rose.

"Skye, are you okay?" Ryan tugged at my sleeve. I pulled the two of them into a hug.

"I'm okay, I promise," I whispered.

Pete ran into the room, fear in his eyes. "Patrick's in the hospital."

I immediately let go of my siblings and stood up. My heart sank. "You don't think it's-"

"I hope not. Go grab a taxi. I'll drop your siblings at Aaron and Connor's and contact Joe and Andy and Brendon. Just go!" He yelled and I dashed out of the door.

Everything was too slow. The elevator was too slow. The taxi driver was too slow. The traffic was too slow. Everything seemed to be preventing me to see Patrick. When I finally made it to the hospital, I threw the money at the driver, yelling at him to keep the change. Before the taxi had even stopped, I jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind me. I sprinted to the receptionist's desk as fast as I possibly could.

"I'm here to see Patrick Stump," I said in one breath to the receptionist before she had even looked up.

"And you might you be?" She questioned, looking up.

"Skye Black. I'm his girlfriend. I need to see-"

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Stump isn't taking any visitors right now." She interrupted. "He's currently in surgery. You can sit in the waiting room, and refreshments are available in the cafeteria." She responded in a monotone voice, returning to her work.

Surgery.

What had happened to make him have to go through surgery? What had my mother done to him?

I didn't sit down, I couldn't I paced up and down the hallway between the waiting room and the cafeteria. What if his surgery didn't go well? What if he is badly injured? What if he can't talk, or walk, or speak? What if he loses his memory? What if he's...dead?

"Skye!" My name being screamed broke me out of my trance of worrying about all of the things that could go wrong. I turned on my heels and wiped the tears from my face so my vision was no longer blurry. Joe, Andy, Pete, and Brendon had just arrived. I immediately ran to Pete and collapsed into his arms, falling to the ground, dragging him with me. I didn't say anything, I just cried.

And cried.

And cried.

How many of you hate me right now?

I'm sorry if you're crying as hard as I am.