Patrick woke up on the kitchen counter, looking up at the ceiling. He sucked in a breath as he stretched. How did he end up here? He didn't remember much after singing karaoke; Jack had kept the drinks flowing after that.

Patrick pushed himself up and looked around the room. Everyone was passed out in different areas. Dallon sat on the couch with his head tilted back as he slept and Breezy slept laying across the couch with her head on Dallon's chest. Max was clutching a karaoke microphone at the foot of the couch, curled up next to Steven, who had somehow found a hoodie to slip halfway into before passing out. Spencer was on the ground in the kitchen, outlined by beer bottles. Jon was sprawled out a few feet away, still holding onto a bottle. Hayley, Jack, and Alex were all piled on top of each other; Jack and Alex were stomach to stomach while Hayley was back to back with Alex. Brendon and Ryan were nowhere in sight, though Patrick suspected them to be in the same corner they had been making out in earlier.

He didn't see Pete amongst the sleeping bodies. He yawned, bringing his hand up to rub his eye. He had to be around somewhere.

Carefully, Patrick slid off of the counter. He tiptoed around the kitchen and living room. He ducked into the hallway, finding his first instinct to go check on the girls.

Natasha was sitting upright, hugging her purple llama and watching Amelie silently build something with foam blocks. She turned when the door opened, immediately locking eyes with Patrick. She waved her hand towards him.

"Hi, baby." He whispered, smiling down at her. "Are you two hungry?"

"'Ungry." Amelie nodded. She hadn't bothered to look up from the blocks.

Natasha nodded too.

"Okay, I'll make some breakfast." Patrick laughed, "Can you play for a bit longer?"

"Bocks!" Amelie squealed, knocking her short tower down.

Natasha nodded again.

"I'll be right back." Patrick promised. He gently shut the door and spun around. He'd probably be making breakfast for the whole house... Eggs and pancakes would probably be good.

Patrick felt something vibrate in his pocket. He reached in and pulled it out, absentmindedly pulling the message down to check it.

Thanks for the advice
You would have been a great dad for him

Patrick's brow furrowed as he walked back towards the kitchen. Who the hell was this? His eyes flickered towards the name on top of the message thread. The phone nearly dropped from his hands. That same name that he had found in Pete's drawer the day before looked back at him.

Patrick quickly clicked out of the conversation and put the phone screen down on the counter. He bit his lip, not paying attention to where he walked as questions popped into his mind.

Who was Meagan? What brought on that text? Why was Pete's phone even in his pocket?

The questions only paused as his foot caught on something. Bottles clanged and crashed as he fell. He could feel sharp points poking all over his skin.

"What?.." Jon groggily pushed himself upright, holding his head. When he turned to Patrick, his eyes went wide. "Oh, shit! Are you okay? You're bleeding!"

Patrick pushed himself up, hearing glass shift around him. He could feel something trailing down his arm and leg. "Shit..."

Jon swiped at some of the glass shards, yelping when he brought his hand down on top of one of the sharp edges. "Oh god, this looks like a murder scene."

"You guys are being loud and I hate you..." Ryan rose from the other side of the counter and put his head down on it.

"We have a bit of a situation, Ryan!" Jon looked from side to side for something to catch the blood dripping from his wound.

Ryan pushed himself up and looked down. His eyes wildened. "What the fuck, guys!?"

"Can you just help me up, please?" Patrick asked.

Ryan hurried over, holding out his hand to Patrick. Patrick grabbed it, wincing slightly at the pain that followed.

"Where's Pete? Do you need a hospital?" Ryan asked, wiping away some glass that stuck to Patrick's skin.

Patrick shook his head. "I'd rather not. I'm going to rinse off in the shower. Nothing feels too deep."

"Do by chance have bandaids?" Jon asked.

Patrick nodded. "In the bathroom." He gestured for Jon to follow with his uninjured hand.

Once in the bathroom, Patrick turned on the water and stepped underneath it fully clothed. He checked his wounds, but nothing was too deep. He'd be fine bandaging it up.

"I'll be needing stitches." Jon frowned after Patrick relayed the information. "It got my hand good... Er, bad."

"There's some cotton and wrapping in the cabinet." Patrick told him, "Do you need me to drive you?"

Jon nodded, "I don't know if Spence is up to it... Are you even up to it?"

Patrick turned off the water. He stood in the shower as his soaking clothes dripped. "Yea, just let me grab a change."

Ryan poked his head into the bathroom. "Weird way to save water." He said, raising an eyebrow at Patrick. "Anyway, cleaned up the glass and awakened the myth. He's grumpy but coming. There's also one more small thing."

Patrick looked up from attempting to wring water from his shirt. Natasha peeked into the bathroom from behind Ryan.

"Addy." She said, reaching a hand out.

"Hey." Patrick laughed, "What are you doing?"

"I couldn't stop them, Patrick." Ryan tried to hold a straight face as the toddler waddled into the room, "They wanted to be free."

Natasha reached the edge of the tub. She grabbed hold of the edge of Patrick's shorts and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Awww, she loves you!" Ryan laughed.

Patrick bent down and picked her up. She smiled widely, clapping her hands. When Patrick set her against his hip, she tapped his cheek. "Addy."

"Can you stay with uncle Ryan while I take uncle Jon to get fixed up?" He asked her with a smile.

She blinked at him.

"I'll take that as yes." Patrick leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Be good."

She hiccuped.

"Sounds like a plan." Ryan said.

Patrick nodded. Any kind of distraction. Any way to help his friends.

Natasha just hiccuped again.