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Having a soulmate is a big headache. Like, literally; there are thousands people who can communicate with their soulmates without any difficulties, but Patrick Stump has had migraines since he was twelve-year old — he is afraid of any chances of having a telepathic bond with anyone. Patrick is sixteen, when he appears in Patrick’s mind for the first time and greets him like ‘Yo, I’m Pete Wentz!’, and Patrick wants to get Pete out of his head as soon as possible, not to let his migraine kick his ass again.
‘I can’t talk,’ Patrick thinks.
‘You are grumpy,’ Pete concludes.
It’s good that Patrick lies on his bed in his room, because the boy can’t even muster energy to reply; Patrick can’t even open his eyes, the daylight makes his head hurt. Since now, he has to meet Pete; it’s the final soulmates-step, the bond between them will get stronger, their thoughts finally will be blocked as a result of their indestructible togetherness. This bond drags Patrick down like an anchor, no personal space exists, he doesn’t feel mysterious pleasure while he’s talking to Pete. Patrick doesn’t know what the fuck on the Earth went wrong, and why he can’t be normal at this point — sometimes he hates this dude, his half-imaginary friend and possible lover.
After the year of the connection Patrick is ready to give up.
“My brain is like an open wound, and his thoughts are like hot needles,” seventeen-year-old Patrick says while the Doctor writes something on the paper, wincing at the fact that Patrick’s soulmate is a guy who’s actually five years older than him. Patrick’s Mom looks concerned.
‘I’m sorry’, the voice apologizes, and it sends spikes of pain through Patrick’s head.
Then everything in Doctor’s office goes blurry and shaky; somehow Patrick ends up in his mother’s car with a tissue pressed against his bloody nose. The boy has a lot of problems typical for every teen, and Pete just makes his life harder. Patrick still can’t accept the fact that he’s supposed to spend his life with a man. By the way, for Google Pete Wentz just doesn’t exist.
Pete’s thoughts are very annoying. Especially when he answers to Patrick’s whining (‘Damn, this suit is just terrible’ — ‘No, you look good, Trick’ — ‘Shut up, you don’t know how do I look like’ — ‘I’m just sure’). It causes a strong pulsating ache in Patrick’s right temple, but at least, his desire to smash the mirror fades away as he tries to dress up for his prom. He has to take his glasses off not to see his reflection.
There are black lines of Patrick’s life (migraine-days when Patrick can’t get up from the bed, and his soulmate tries to comfort him, but it only makes things worse) and white lines (when Pete isn’t trying to draw his attention or when Patrick can stand a couple minutes of their conversation). Patrick is eighteen, and Pete just bothers his sleep involuntarily, screaming in the middle of the night in his head.
‘They’re gonna catch me,’ Pete breathes heavily.
‘Dude, they are not real,’ Patrick feels the bond between him and Pete vibrates.
‘Nightmares are always real,’ Pete’s voice sounds fuzzily and groggily, it makes Patrick shiver.
‘No, they aren’t. Just go back to sleep,’ Patrick glances at the digital clock on his bedside table. 3:45 am. Patrick groans and buries his face in а feather pillow.
‘Talk to me,’ Pete begs hesitantly.
‘Pete, I can’t, I have to wake up early, and my head hurts. Just calm down, okay?’ the anger boils up in Patrick’s chest as the right side of his head flashes with a hot pain. Fine, now he has to suffer from a migraine-episode only because his soulmate had a bad dream.
There is a pause, and Patrick starts getting worried even, but then-
‘Sweet dreams, Trick.’
Patrick is grateful he doesn’t read everything Pete is thinking about.
***
“What if he finds you?” Patrick’s roommate Joe asks.
They’re nineteen, they are college sophomores, and they try to make some music instead of partying with Gabe. Now Patrick has some evil tricks to turn Pete down — he just ignores his soulmate’s telepathic calls sometimes.
“He doesn’t know where I am,” Patrick mutters, creating the melody for his future song. “Joe, listen, Pete has a girlfriend, okay? You know, I just know when he’s… With her,” Patrick frowns.
“So what? You can take revenge, I swear, Vicky-T likes you,” Joe winks at him, and Patrick almost drops his guitar, embarrassed.
Vicky is the rarest one who hasn’t heard her soulmate’s minds yet.
“I have no time for it, exams and all this shit,” Patrick rolls his eyes in irritation.
“Too busy to have some fun?” Joe teases, playing a simple riff.
“Exactly.”
Pete is going to start a mental fight, there are static noises soar in the air; Pete likes being Patrick’s early morning company, even though Patrick prefers to sleep. How the hell they can be soulmates?!
Patrick wants to be Pete’s friend, but something inside of his soul refuses, they don’t even talk much! It’s like an exhausting pressure over Patrick’s brain, over his whole existence. For example, Joe has a girlfriend, Marie, they got lucky and free of their telepathy; Patrick’s sister’s soulmate lives in the foreign country, they are talking on Skype every evening. Patrick’s brother is about to get married. Gabe has William, and their coming-out was like a ceremony; Alex dates Lisa, and Jack-without-a-soulmate just loves all the girls at college. Brendon brags that he has two telepathic bonds at the same time — with the dude named Ryan and with some Sarah-girl; no one can check this out. Patrick wonders how Brendon’s brain feels, though.
He never calls for Pete first, but now Patrick wants to do it, just to be sure that he likes his soulmate. It’s nearly 4 am, Pete’s favorite time; Joe is already sleeping, and Patrick feels strangely secure.
‘Pete?’ there are seconds of waiting, and then Pete’s tired voice rings through Patrick’s ears.
‘Hey,’ Pete is calmer than usual. ‘I’m lonely,’ he informs.
‘Same,’ Patrick grumbles, rolling onto his side.
‘Where are you?’
‘In my bed,’ Patrick sighs loudly. ‘Alone.’
‘Is this a problem?’ Pete literally giggles in Patrick’s mind.
‘Maybe.’
Patrick manages to fall asleep without having a migraine this time.
***
Patrick is twenty, and he makes a decision to meet his soulmate, but Pete is silent; Patrick almost chokes on his disgusting morning coffee when Pete’s helpless ghost of thought crosses his mind like a sharp blade.
‘Goodbye.’
‘What?!’ Patrick yells both really and mentally, the wave of headache overwhelming him.
“What?” Joe asks sleepily, stretching on his bed.
“Pete. I don’t know. He’s hurt,” Patrick mutters, setting the mug aside; there’s something wet and warm on his face.
He can’t understand why Joe’s dazed blue eyes filled up with fear.
“You’re… Bleeding,” Joe explains, gulping nervously.
“Fuck, of course I am!” Patrick snaps back, grabbing a crumpled tissue from the table and pinching his nostrils.
He snatches his clothes from the floor with his free hand, dresses up quickly and runs out of the campus, speeding up to the bus stop.‘Why the hell?’ Patrick moans.‘Pete, please stay alive, where the fuck are you?’ What if this asshole Wentz lives in foreign country? Patrick regrets he didn’t ask about it earlier. He just kind of didn’t care.
‘Hospital,’ he gets a sudden thought. Hospital? Does it mean Pete is safe?
Really, having a soulmate is such a headache. It takes almost three hours till Patrick feels the right direction; jumping out of the bus, he runs to the hospital and crosses the large hallway, scaring nurses and patients with his cry ‘Please, help me find Pete Wentz!’
Surprisingly, he gets a mental response. ‘Good job, dude.’ Same town, at least.
“He’s my soulmate, I can read his minds, please, can I see him?” Patrick explains to the young woman-receptionist.
“Calm down, mister,” the woman grumbles, checking a list of patients.
Then, Patrick gets a full Wentz-story. A few hours ago, Pete tried to commit suicide by overdosing on the parking lot, but his father found him and called an ambulance; Pete got his stomach pumped, and he’s in satisfactory condition right now. After an awkward waiting, the nurse leads Patrick to Pete’s ward. There are people near the door, probably, Pete’s Mom and Dad; they sit on plastic chairs and nod at Patrick in greeting.
“I’m Pete’s soulmate,” Patrick introduces himself. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t reach for you earlier,” he wipes his nose on his sleeve automatically.
‘I was a fucking coward,’ Patrick guesses wordlessly.
‘Me too,’ Pete lets out a heavy sigh. ‘Come in.’
Patrick almost hisses as Pete’s words stab his temple; part of Patrick wants to meet Pete and end this telepathic crap, but the other part orders him to run away. The nurse pushes him against the door; Pete’s mother wipes her watery eyes silently.
Patrick sways as he enters the hospital ward; all the cogs in his brain fall out of their places as he sees this guy — Pete looks much younger than twenty-five and much better than Patrick expected. Not like he’s a self-destroyer. He’s just pale and drunk a little; there is the IV in Pete’s vein, but it seems like Pete just doesn’t notice it. What if he doesn’t want to talk?
“Hey,” Pete smiles tiredly. “You are that dude with migraine, finally.”
Hearing Pete’s non-mental voice is weird; it’s soft, hoarse a little and real a lot.
“How are you?” Patrick blurts out worriedly. “Why did you do that?”
“Well… My ‘girlfriend’ found her soulmate, you weren’t oh-so-friendly, and I thought this world would be much better Wentzless,” Pete shrugs, looking at the small drops of blood on Patrick’s shirt. “I talked to my parents, I’m good now, but… Did you have a fight with the Doctor to break into my ward?”
“Nah, our soulmate-bond punched me in the face,” Patrick huffs.
It’s a good thing that Pete can’t read his minds anymore, because they found the real connection; it’s like the strong rope from Patrick’s heart tied it up with Pete’s, like they can finally be together, and Patrick realizes that he was a fool and had almost lost it all. Pete is handsome; dark-haired, with kind brown eyes, with ‘The Nightmare before Christmas’ tattoos on his arms and thorns around his neck. Patrick hasn’t thought he could look cool even in the hospital gown — Pete almost died because of Patrick’s whimsicality.
“It’s like, the end of our telepathy,” Pete utters, tugging up his blanket, and Patrick suddenly wants to help him; so he does, and sits down onto the edge of Pete’s uncomfortable bed. “Love your baseball cap, by the way.”
It’s just his old cap with a stupid monkey-picture, but Patrick accepts the compliment.
“Thanks. I’m not gonna leave you, by the way,” he says with Pete’s intonation.
Pete visibly relaxes, and the bond between them tightens almost physically.
“Gonna check your head out?” he touches Patrick’s a little sweaty palm.
“It’s a chronic headache,” Patrick tries to blink away the migraine, hoping it’s gonna get a bit better without constant mental tension. “Dude. Let’s talk about you, not about me.”
“No,” Pete chuckles, tangling their fingers together. “Let’s talk about music?”
***
A week later, Pete gets out of the hospital; it was a hard challenge for both Pete and Patrick, for their parents and friends. There is a month of Pete’s recovery and Patrick’s college exams; they cope with this successfully. Patrick still has migraines, and Pete still can’t love himself as much as he loves Patrick, but now they have each other, and it definitely helps. The soul bond is working.
Their first real date is pretty romantic even though they are confused like little kids.
‘Cuddling with my soulmate is much better than having his voice in my head,’ Patrick thinks, kissing Pete in the back row of the movie theater.