"I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want me to go." Patrick whined as stroked the brush against the canvas.

"Well, that's too bad. Because I don't want to let you out of my sight. Ever."

Today was the day of Meagan's appointment. They were going to hear the baby's heart beat again. They could be finding out what she was having, but they still wanted that to be a surprise.

Pete usually wouldn't be taking Patrick with him to something like this. But he'd been afraid to leave him alone since Andy cornered him in the bathroom of that restaurant. They filled out a police report to get the restraining order taken care of. Patrick told the investigator about Andy practically admitting to the car sabotage. Now he was a wanted man. And not in the good way.

"I'm a grown man, Pete. I can take care of myself." He resisted the urge to stomp his foot like a child. Because that would completely ruin the point he was trying to make.

"No offense." Pete eyed the screen of his laptop intently as he typed. "But Andy is way stronger than you. He could easily overpower you."

"But I don't want to he in a room with her. She hates me."

"Well, it's a good thing she can't beat you up." He joked.

Pete adjusted his tie and smiled at his screen. Patrick paused his painting and glanced at himself in the long, thin mirror in Pete's office. He frowned at his floral button up and jeans. His glasses and hat added to the feminine look. And his shiny Prada shoes topped it all off. He looked like a wimp. Maybe she could beat him up.

He dipped his brush into the paint again. "You were right." He sighed.

"I know. But about what in particular this time?"

"I dress like a bottom."

Pete's deep laugh filled the room.

"The way you dress is cute."

"Well, then I dress like a cute bottom."

"You also have a cute bottom."

"I'm serious!" He swung his arms in annoyance. A blob of blue paint flew past Pete's head. Hitting the glass window behind him.

"You're destroying my office with your paint!"

"I told you to let me paint in one of the spare rooms."

"I can't look after you in one of the spare-"

"Then stop complaining."

Patrick swung the brush again without thinking. This time the bright blue landed on top of Pete's desk. Staining the top of a stack of papers.

Pete stared at the spot on the paper for a few minutes. Deciding whether or not he should be angry. They were extremely important papers. But he could easily get Ryan to send in new copies. He lifted the top sheet up. Rolling his eyes when he realized the paint bled through a few sheets. He groaned.

Patrick jumped at the unsuspecting sound. The paintbrush fell from his fingers and clattered to the ground. Causing more of the blue paint to splatter around the floor.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Pete snapped. Standing up and rushing over to inspect the damage the paint did. "I just got the floors cleaned!"

"I'm so sorry."

Patrick dropped to his knees in a wasteful attempt to clean it up. But all he was doing was making it worse. Spreading the cerulean shade wider around the floor with his hand.

"Just stop Patrick-"

"I didn't mean-"

"You're only making it worse!" He yelled.

Patrick pulled his hand away from the paint and stood up. A hurt look lingering in his eyes. Pete groaned. Burying his face in his hand. Patrick stared down at his feet.

"I didn't mean to yell at you." He said in a low, careful voice.

"It's fine. I should have been more cautious." His tone was hard and clipped.

"That's no reason to yell at you." Pete titled Patrick's chin up. "I've just been feeling a bit on edge lately."

"Because of the appointment?"

He stared into Pete's eyes trying to find the answer. He'd never noticed how tired Pete looked. There weren't bags under his eyes or anything. But he still looked exhausted.

"Just because of everything."

"Your pills aren't helping? Maybe you need to speak to your doctor about-"

"I haven't been taking the pill." He looked away from Patrick. Dropping his hand from his face.

"What? Why? Did you run out?"

"I've just been doing so well without them. I'm tired of my stability depending on a bunch of pills."

"They were made to help you, Pete."

"I don't need them today. I'm fine today. I take them tomorrow."

"Do you really want to take that risk on the day you're going to the doctor with Meagan? What if you snap at her in front of him?"

"I won't."

"Sometimes we take chances. Sometimes we take pills." He walked over to Pete's desk and opened the top drawer. Pulling out the three bottles. Leaving his blue fingerprints on them. "Today, we take pills."

"Don't just go in my-"

"Is this my old notebook?"

Patrick grabbed it from the same place as the pills. He flipped through the pages. Seeing his familiar handwriting.

"I-uh found that when I was cleaning out your stuff." Pete scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Coming up to the desk slowly and lifting up one of the pilll bottles.

"And you kept it?" Patrick continued to flip through the pages.

"Yeah."

He reached for the book but Patrick just kept looking through it. Reliving the emotions he felt as he was writing each poem.

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't throw it away. I-I just couldn't. It felt wrong."

"What's this?" His brow furrowed as he looked at the last page. That wasn't his hand writing. He was barely able to read it.

"I was um. I-uh I was bored and-"

"I'm sleeping my way out of this one. With anyone who'll lie down. I'll be stuck fixated on one star. When the world is crashing down-"

"Don't read that!"

He tried to snatch it away but Patrick was faster. He rushed to the other side of the desk. Pete ran after him. Quickly figuring out that it would end up in a never ending cycle of them running circles around the desk.

"I keep telling myself, I'm not the desperate type. But you've got me looking in through blinds. I'm sitting out dances on the wall. Trying to forget everything that isn't you. I'm not going home alone. Cause I don't do too well-"

"Close the book!"

"Holy shit! Did you write this?"

"No."

"It's good."

"Shut up. Close it."

"The only thing worse than not knowing. Is you thinking that I don't know. I'm having another episode.
I just need a stronger dose." Patrick was whispering the words as he got to the last part.

"Are you finally done?" Pete walked up to him. This time Patrick didn't run. He let Pete snatch the book from his hands.

"Did you-"

"It's just something I wrote when I was bored. It's all stupid."

"Did you try to take too many of your pills before?"

"No." He laughed. Putting the book back in the drawer. "I told you I was bored and-"

"Pete, if you thought about doing that, you could have told-"

"Hey!" Pete smiled crookedly as he walked to stand in front of him. "I'm fine. I've been fine. The only thing suicidal here, are the doors." He winked jokingly.

Patrick sighed. "Pete-"

"I said I'm fine." He snapped. "I take the fucking pills and the well get going to the hospital. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." He leaned down to kiss him quickly. "Get my water."

So I have a book of oneshots now. Read that if you want. Also, there are like ten more chapters to this. Shits about to get REAL. Be prepared.