When we explain the situation to Bronx, he laughs. Like it isn't real. When neither Declan nor I show any signs of this being a joke, his eyes go wide.

"So Declan and I are brothers?" Bronx asks carefully. I didn't think of that. Declan interjects before I can say anything.

"I was adopted. Mom couldn't have a baby, so she and Patrick adopted me. They told me when I was thirteen, and she was dying." Declan explains. Bronx's face relaxes.

"Am I gonna be alright?" Bronx asks, and I nod.

"Patrick gave you some of his bone marrow. You'll be fine." I say. The name feels so foreign coming out of my mouth since I spent the past two hours calling him everything but that.

"That's so messed up. I called my own dad daddy as fuck." Bronx says, shuddering. "Okay, now that I know this, are you and Patrick going to get together or?"

"No." I say immediately. "Never. I mean, there could've been something, but he lied to me."

"Dad, maybe he was going to tell you. You really should talk to him about it." Bronx suggests. I shake my head. "He saved my life. He gave me life."

"You have to stop interfering with my love life, Son." I say, patting the curls on his head.

"I want you to be happy. Declan and I want you to be happy." Bronx says. "We wouldn't be telling you to go to Patrick if we thought he couldn't make you happy. Talk to him. Let him explain."

"Guys, both of you are sixteen and have had one relationship each." I say, crossing my arms. Declan finally decides to speak up.

"I think he was going to tell you when the time was right." Declan says. I let of a huff.

"Dad, stop being a bitch, and go talk to him. I'm not saying go fuck him, I'm saying talk." Bronx says. I nod finally.

"Fine. Does anyone know where he'd be?" I ask. Declan looks at his feet, sighs, and then nods.

"The bar down the street. McCoy's." Declan says. "I'll stay with Bronx."

I nod and walk out of the room. The guy from earlier runs up to me. He stayed here all this time? "Is your son okay?" He asks.

"He's fine now. Man, I really can't thank you enough for helping him out." I say. He holds out his hand to me.

"Tell your boy I hope he recovers well." He says, and I smile at him.

"My name's Pete Wentz. Nice to meet you." He laughs when I say that. "What?"

"We've met. We went to high school together." He says. "Dallon Weekes. I was president of student council, and I led the student section at all of the games."

"Now I know why I don't remember you. I've always hated sports. Anyways, dude, thanks so much. You can go in and see him if you want." I say. Dallon nods.

I walk out of the hospital. I could do two things. I could go to the bar, or I could go home and relax for a few hours. I don't want to lie to Bronx and Declan, but I don't know if I can face Patrick.

I make up my mind and walk to the bar down the street. It looks nice and cozy on the inside, not like many bars do. I see Patrick sitting at the bar with a glass in front of him. No telling how many drinks he's drank.

I sit down next to him, but he doesn't look up until I speak. "What can I get you?" The bartender asks. He's got dark skin and tattoos, and his hair is long. He's got a few piercings too.

"Give me a water and whatever he's drinking." I say. Patrick looks up at me, wide-eyed when I buy his drink. The bartender sets it down in front of him. It's a glass of root beer.

"What are you doing here?" Patrick asks, grabbing the glass and taking a sip of it. I shrug.

"Kids are playing matchmaker. I figured I'd let you explain yourself." I say. He nods.

"I, uh, was drunk, too. I remember fucking you, but that's it. I woke up the next morning with you in the bed. I didn't know what to do, so I got up and left. I was going to talk to you at the next party, which was two weeks away. When it came, you weren't there. I asked around. Someone told me you'd been sick that morning. Then you dropped out of college. I found it ironic that two weeks after we fucked, you dropped out. So I did more research. I found out you were pregnant. One month pregnant exactly. One month after we fucked. I freaked out. I wasn't ready for a kid, so I stayed away and got my degree. I found out our son and my adopted son were dating. I was going to tell you that Bronx was mine, but all of shit happened."

"Holy shit." I say, and he nods. "You were going to tell me?"

"I had a date picked out and everything. I was going to cook you dinner and tell you over that." He admits. "Look, Pete, I know what I did was wrong. And I know that I don't deserve another chance, but I do want to be in Bronx's life. You don't have to. If I was in your place, I sure as hell wouldn't let me see our son."

"I want to, Patrick. I want you to be in his life, but right now, I don't know if I can trust you. So, how about we take it slow, and you talk to Bronx and tell him to his face that you're his father?" I tell him. "That's the only way."

"I'm perfectly fine with that. Oh my gosh, I'm so nervous. What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm uncool?" Patrick asks. I laugh.

"He thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread. You saved his life." I say. I pay for our drinks and pat his back as we walk back to the hospital.