Chapter Text
———
Patrick put on his coat and headed for his front door. It was always a little cold in Chicago, but he’d grown accustomed to it.
The whole world felt a little bleak to him.
He sighed and opened the door, greeted by the crisp air and gray sky. Depressing much, he thought.
The walk to his school wasn’t far, ten minutes if he was taking his time that morning. He always is.
He dreads the loud and crowded halls, obnoxious peers, and most of all bullies.
He hated going school. But he wouldn’t miss the chance to be with his only friends, Joe and Andy. The only people who truly understand him.
He gets to school and is shoved to his locker by none other than asshole #1, Gabe Saporta.
Gabe was the typical jock. Tall, strong, and an ass.
He was on the football team and could get any lady he wanted. But that’s not who Patrick cared about necessarily.
He had his eyes on his shorter, might he say hot, emo companion. Pete Wentz.
Patrick had a huge crush on him the first time he saw him during a pep rally. Yes, they host those for some reason.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Pete. He knew he had no chance with him, he was everything that Patrick strived to be. Handsome, funny, talented, and…Skinny.
Patrick always wanted to have a ‘perfect’ body such as Pete. He did everything he could to achieve it.
He was always made fun of for his chubby cheeks, touching thighs and slight double chin.
Patrick got up from the ground once he heard the bell ring and signal that first classes had begun.
He groaned in pain and grudgingly walked to his first period.
Patrick slid his hand to the knob of his math class. Realizing he was five mines late, he hesitantly pushed the door open.
He was met with his teachers’ unsettling glare and sat down next to Andy and Joe quickly.
“Hey, what’s up?” Joe asked tiredly, silencing a yawn.
“Uh, nothin’ much..” Patrick muttered quietly, looking towards the board with disinterest.
A boring lesson for a boring school day.
———
He had been through three classes, the last one being by himself since Joe had science and Andy had some extra time to just fuck off in class.
It was lunch in fifteen minutes so Patrick grabbed his bag from his locker and walked towards his favorite bathroom.
This bathroom was usually always empty so Patrick took his time just fiddling with his clothes or writing in his notebook.
He pulled his notebook from his bag and sat down in the last stall.
He began to just doodle, occasionally writing about Pete and how much he adored him.
When he heard people laughing, he shut his book and stuffed it back into his bag, looking around under the stall.
He saw familiar red and black sneakers from this morning when he was pushed to the ground…They were Gabe’s shoes.
He cursed under his breath and stood up, closing his eyes and praying they wouldn’t bother him. He just wanted time alone, not another beating.
He was pacing back and forth nervously in the stall, tuning out all noise. Unfortunately, his converse squeaked and he turned forward, opening his eyes and trying to hold his breath.
“Who’s in there?” He heard Gabe ask in a sing song voice.
Patrick took two tiny steps back, not even noticing the door pulling open.
“Hey stump! You're looking a bit wider today, forget to skip carbs?” He asked with a large roguish grin.
Patrick stared at Gabe, holding his breath. Not registering the snarky comment given to him.
“Man, is this your bag, Pat?” One of his friends said as he swiftly reached for his bag.
“No!” Patrick yelled as he leaped forward to try and stop him.
“Hey! I don’t think so Stump. What d’you have in here? Probably some gay drawings or notes.” Gabe shot back as he laughed loudly and grabbed the bag. Blocking Patrick with a blow to his stomach.
Patrick kneeled down, holding his stomach and looked up to see his book in Gabe’s hands.
“Guess I was right.” He scoffed and looked disgustingly into Patrick’s eyes.
“You're a little freak. Always have been and always will be, Pat.”
“Don’t you fucking call me that.” Patrick said between gritted teeth.
“What did you say, Pat?” Gabe glared down at him with the same stupid grin as before.
Patrick went silent. Staring wide eyed to the group in front of him.
Shit, he thought.
“What did you say you little faggot?”
Gabe dropped the book and brought Patrick up by the hem of his shirt, practically lifting him on his tippy toes.
“Answer me dipshit.” He said angrily.
“I said don’t fucking call me that fucker!” Patrick whisper-yelled as he spat in his face.
Gabe let him go and stepped back, groaning and wiping his face with his sleeve.
“Oh, you wanna be like that today? Acting like you're brave when you're just a fucking fairy. I’m going to make sure you have scars for the rest of your miserable and pathetic life.”
“I’m surprised you know such big words genius.” Patrick stated calmly, his breathing picking up slowly.
Gabe perched an eyebrow up, “Grab him.”
Two of his friends grabbed Patrick by the arms, pulling them behind him. Patrick kicked up to Gabe, missing pathetically.
After a few minutes of struggling, he stopped and stared at the ground, eyes shut tight.
“Oh Stump. Next time, keep your pretty little mouth shut.” Gabe retorted as he lifted up Patrick’s chin.
Gabe then punched him with the same hand and he fell to the ground, holding himself up. He looked up at Gabe, who was smirking at him.
“Stump, I hate to hurt you. You have a such a pretty face..” He joked out as one of his friends kicked Patrick.
He grunted and coughed, blood seeping down his chin.
“Next time, I’ll do way worse. Put you to good use and give you a good fuck up.” Gabe said slowly as he kneeled down to Patrick, holding his chin.
“I bet you would like that, huh? Fucked senseless by a senior.” Gabe whispered so only Patrick could hear. He had a hunger in his eyes that terrified Patrick.
He smirked and rubbed Patrick’s bloody chin, spreading the blood to his hat.
He stood and they all left the bathroom, Gabe glancing back at Patrick and mumbling something like “pathetic” or “faggot”. Patrick didn’t know neither did he care.
He lied down on the cold tiles, on his side and buried his face in the arms.
He felt like crying, or yelling. Maybe both.
He stayed there for all of lunch, dozing in and out of sleep. He was exhausted, mentally drained to be exact. He was tired of everyone. Especially Gabe fucking Saporta.
———
“Oh shit!” Was the first thing Patrick awoke to.
He could feel somebody push him on his back and wipe his chin, blood still spilling out.
“Hey! Are you awake?” The voice asked in panic and quickly pulled him up into a sitting position.
Patrick pushed away and rubbed his eyes, feeling drained of everything.
His vision began to clear and he could see a man. Straightened hair, dark eyeliner and..Holy shit! Pete Wentz!
Patrick blinked rapidly, facing down and clearing his throat.
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Thanks.”
“You sure? Your lip is busted and you have a bruise on the side of your face.” Pete said, exasperated and slightly chuckling at Patrick’s nonchalant tone.
Patrick looked at the man in front of him. Never being this close to him but always wanting to, and now he was terrified to fuck it all up.
“Um, so you gonna tell me your name and who did this or nah?” Pete said smiling. Kind and gentle.
Patrick was timid, he was blushing for sure. But that’s not what he needs to worry about when he's bleeding.
“I uh, I’m- I’m Patrick. Patrick Stump.” He said quietly. He wanted to avoid the second question..Gabe was Pete's fucking teammate, no way he was going to tell Pete it was him!
“Alright. Hi Patrick. Now, who did this?” Pete greeted slowly, trying to not seem intimidating.
Patrick was wide eyed at the ground, before shrugging.
“No one to worry about. M’ fine.” He said as he smiled softly at Pete, who was still concerned.
“Well, I don’t know you but whoever did apparently doesn’t like you. Maybe jealousy. Maybe for no fucking reason at all. But I need to take you to the nurse, you're bleeding bad.” Pete stated as he stood up and put his hands on his hips.
“No no, I’m fine. It’s nobody anyway.” Patrick replied quickly, attempting standing up but falling to his knees.
He felt hands around his arms, pulling him to a standing position and holding him up. Pete slung Patricks arm around his shoulder and made sure he was stable.
“I’m taking you to the nurse.” Pete chuckled out.
———
“So, what grade you in? I haven’t seen you around. Unless you're new but I doubt that.” Pete asked as they turned the corner to the hallway of the nurses office. They were both walking slowly, wasting time perhaps.
“I’m a uh, a sophomore.” Patrick responded.
“Alright. So whoever beat you up is also a sophomore I take it?”
Patrick began to breathe a bit inconsistently, not wanted to answer the question.
“Hey hey, it’s alright if you don’t wanna answer..I just wanna know who did this to you, they must be brave or have a group y’know?” Pete stated firmly as they walked into the nurses office.
“Yeah, I would say they are.” Patrick said sarcastically.
Him and Pete stood there awkwardly for a bit, waiting on the nurse.
“Um, thank you Pete. For uh, walking me here. I appreciate it a lot.” Patrick said nervously, staring at his shoes.
Pete smiled warmly at him. “No problem Patrick, you seem like an amazing guy. We can be friends. And if someone decides to mess with you again, you have me.”
Patrick looked up at Pete then his shoes, blushing again at the thought of even being friends, or even talking, with Pete Wentz again.
“I better get going, I have athletics and I can’t miss that.” Pete sighed and began walking over to Patrick.
“I hope to see you again, we can hang out, too.”
He told Patrick as he hugged him. Patrick could feel him breathing, his scent was some type of cheap cologne but god, he would never forget it.
He smiled and hugged back.
Pete let go and exited the room, waving bye at Patrick, which he did return.
He sat down on an old chair and breathed out slowly, smiling. He just hugged Pete mother fucking Wentz. And now they’re friends!
Patrick blushed harder at the simple thought, grinning wide.
“Patrick? Again?! When will those boys leave you alone?”
Patrick quickly looked up at the familiar voice.
The nurse, Clara Madden he learned after numerous visits, asked with a tired smile.
“It’s great to see you, too Clair.” Patrick replied with a small grin.
———