---Patrick---

Underneath my skin, it hurts. It's always hurt so horribly but this time, it's so much worse. Everything hurts. My throat hurts. My legs hurt. My chest hurts. My back hurts. My arms hurt. My head hurts. It hurts to open my eyes... or attempt to at least. It all just kind of aches with a few sharp pains here and there. Especially in my chest as my breathing quickens.

Dad must have hurt me bad last night. Strangely, though, I can't remember last night. I remember the breaking of glass. Megan screaming, a phone call...

My eyes dart open, but that ceiling isn't mine. It's not cracked. That's not the ceiling I watched as Kevin hovered over me, breathless. This room has a clear roof, flawless... am I dead?

I can hear shuffling coming from beside the bed, but as I try to turn my head, I find it restrained tightly to the bed I'm laying on, and I begin to panic. I can't move. I'm trapped. Just like how Dad and Kevin trapped me. Pinning me against the wall and hitting me over and over again. My breathing gets faster, and I'm panicking more because I can't move. I'm closed in, and there's nowhere to go. I can't escape.

"H-hhh," I can't speak. My voice is whiny and sore, and my throat hurts.

"Hello there, Patrick," A man says. I try to turn my head again but it's pounding so much, and it's still restrained. I feel even more scared. I want to scream and bury my face in my arms. I'm terrified, and I want relief.

I want Gerard.

"Wuhhh..."

"Don't try to talk, your Dad caused some major damage to your throat, and it needs to heal. Here," The man does something, making me flinch but I can feel my head move better and my wrists are free from restraints I didn't realize were there. My breathing returns to normal as I move around, rolling my shoulders and looking down.

My heart nearly stops.

My scars are showing in the hospital gown. They're everywhere. The man can see them. If he's seen them then that only leads me to wonder who else has seen them. And if they see those, what else did they see? The bandages across my back? The ugly scars that have made their home on the soft skin? My misshapen stomach. The way my rib cage juts out. It's disgusting. I'm disgusting. I want to scream and cry. This can't be happening. Please, please, please.

"And this, too," The man hands over a notepad and pen which I immediately grab eagerly scribbling down words.

I need Gerard

The man looks up at me with those piercing green eyes but nods, "Of course. I'm Dr. Capaldi by the way."

Whatever.

He stands up and leaves, but as soon as the door shuts, I feel myself crumble. The silence in the room is broken by my quiet sobs as I break down into tears. This can't be happening. Please. This is embarrassing and, fuck, I don't even remember how I got here. I hurt. Gerard is probably pissed.

What happened to Megan? Is she okay? I remember her screaming and Dad yelling at me. I remember seeing her face for a split second. Pure terror etched on her regular innocent expression. Was she hurt?

What about Gerard? I know he's pissed. There's no way he couldn't be pissed. I'm such a fuckup. Oh god. Will he hurt me? Is he even here? How long was I out?

And my friends... how is Pete? Where's Brendon? Is Joe alright? Do they know I haven't been eating? Are they going to force me to eat now? They're going to start feeling sorry for me again just like Pete did... I don't deserve their sympathy... It's my fault... it's all my fault... and now I have to pay the consequences like what happens next.

What does happen next?

They've found my scars. They know I've been beaten. They've discovered my secrets. What are they going to do? Mental institute? No, probably not that far. Therapy. Foster homes. Foster homes... no...

Gerard is gonna be gone. I'll be with someone else. I'll be in a different family. What will that do to Gerard? Would he even care? I'll never see him or possible Megan again and... I can't let that happen. Please. I love Megan so much, and I can't leave her. I love Gerard, and I can't leave him. I don't want to leave Ryan or Frank or Brendon or Joe either. I can't leave Pete again.

Where is Gerard?

I'm so scared and sad and stressed and guilty. Oh god, I feel terrible. What happened? Did I call the cops or did Gerard?

My thoughts turn darker as I wait. Gerard is my only will to live. Without him, there's no reason to continue, and if I get sent off to a foster home, I'll possibly never see him or Megan again. With my luck, I wouldn't be surprised if Bob's parents adopted me.

The door opens.

Gerard comes through, tears in his soft brown eyes and Mr. Capaldi right behind him.

"Can we have some privacy, please?" Gerard asks, turning to the doctor.

Dr. Capaldi looks to me for permission to which I reply with a nod. He hesitantly leaves, shutting the door behind himself.

"Patrick... oh my god..." he whispers, tears streaming down his face, "You were out for so long."

He rushes over to the bed, draping his arms around me and sobbing into my shoulder, "I missed you."

My hands go to his black hair, eagerly running my fingers through the greasy black locks. They're greasiest than usual, and as he pulls back, I see his eyes have dark bags under them, and he looks utterly exhausted.

He cups my face, quickly pulling my lips under his. The kiss is rushed and passionate, his lips moving messily against mine and I can feel his tears drop down onto my cheeks. His tongue prods my lip, but I deny his entrance. I'm so confused. I'm not scared anymore, only confused.

He pulls away in disappointment, tears still leaving his eyes. I raise my hand weakly, it's hard. I don't have strength, but I'm able to find enough to wipe his tears with my thumb, letting the salty droplet run down my hand until I wipe it on my hospital gown. He smiles sadly, "You were out for a near week... W-we thought you were going into comatose and I was so scared..."

A week? A whole week?

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I open my mouth to say something, but I remember what Dr. Capaldi said... I pick up my notepad and reply.

How is everyone else?

"They were devastated. I had to tell them, I'm so sorry I should have asked for your permission but I couldn't, and they wouldn't stop asking," he looks away with shame. I scribble down something else with a more negative tone.

It's okay. Just about everyone knows anyways...

He gazes over the note then looks up into my eyes, changing the subject, "Dr. Capaldi is putting you on medication for your anxiety and depression and PTSD. He's also put you in for counseling," he lets out a shaky breath, "I won't be around for long. I have to get back to my life, and you're going to be submitted to a foster home."

My fears are real.

He chokes slightly, a new wave of tears coming to his eyes, "I'm going to miss you, we're all going to miss you. So fucking much."

No, please. This can't be happening. This can't be it. Please, please, please. There has to be another way, any other way. I can't live without him.

No please

I'm crying now, scribbling down words as fast as I can.

Gerard please I love you don't leave me. I can't live without you, you saved my life. There has to be another way.

I shove the notebook in his face, he's trying not to cry. He's trying so very hard to hold it in but he can't. I can see it from the look on his face and the way his hands are trembling.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "Patrick, face it, we've only dated for two weeks."

What?

"One week, you were asleep the whole time. That's not very long. You'll find someone else I'm sure of it..." He smiles softly, but it's sad, "I... You need to accept it... we were never... anything really... other than a couple horny teens with shitty pasts. We barely have anything in common.

"I'm sure you'll find someone else... and you'll have a great family and you'll be happy..." He kisses my forehead, "We were never meant to be, Sugar..."

I grip my chest because it hurts. It actually, physically hurts. He has to be kidding. This can't be happening. Gerard can't be saying this. We had something. Anything.

No please don't leave me

"I have to... I'm so sorry, Sugar but... you have a new family... and you get a new shot at life... I... I hope you like it..."

He draws in a shaky breath watching my shaky pen write in five words I'll probably regret... sixteen letters... down, around, up, dot... I write the last words of the day...

Did you ever love me?

A tear drips down, smudging the pen. His tear. His soft brown eyes gaze into mine for a second. The longest second of my life. What will he say? Yes or no? His eyes say yes. His words say, "I don't know."