---Patrick---

Dying can't be worse than this.

School.

I think I'm going to have a panic attack.

There are so many teenagers, and it's terrifying. I don't know any of them, they don't know me. It's not that I'm afraid of teenagers, I'm just scared of what they could do to me. I haven't forgotten how Jon, Spencer, and Bob bullied me at my old school. I'll never forget...

It constantly talks to me now. The voice in the back of my head. Confirming all of my self-loathing and doubt and... everything. It's bringing me closer and closer to the edge of breaking, the only thing stopping me from ending it all is what's happening this afternoon. I'm getting called out of school early to go to the Foster Care Center and have a meeting with one of the ladies there, Donna, Allie, Mark, and Gerard.

I look down at my phone: Wednesday, October 19th, 9:56 AM. Only three more hours of... this...

On Monday, Donna called Allie, and they talked for a while, eventually making plans to me up at the foster center. I almost cried in joy because that meant I'll be able to see Pete and Joe and Ryan and Brendon and Frank again. Most importantly, Gerard. I'll be able to go to Mountainside... I'll have another chance...

So far I've been in school for three days. It was stressful. I didn't know any of the teacher's names, I was immediately loaded with homework, and nobody talked to me. I wanted to scream because I didn't know half of the shit they were teaching. I did meet three people, though, who immediately accepted me into their group and they were okay with me hanging out with them for some reason.

As I sit at my desk for English, I can already see one of them: Ray. He reminds me of Joe with his dark brown Afro with stray hairs popping out here and there. I'm tempted to bury my head in it like I did to the other boy but... Ray isn't Joe, Ray is Ray and Ray doesn't really appreciate it. He's a bit serious, but it's the kind of friend that fits me right now. I never smile like anyone else does, my mouth is constantly resting, and I can't seem to smile without a little bit of effort. Ray fits me right now, and so far, he's been there when I need him, mostly with the constant bullying that happens to me... He wears mostly just plain black tees, jeans, and converse, like ever other person at this stupid school. The only difference between Ray and the rest of them is how caring he is, he gives me my space and doesn't force anything on me, or bully me. I'm grateful for it, and I honestly wish I could get to know him better. I gave him my phone number, and we've texted back and forth a few times but not a whole lot.

Next, there's Dallon. He has dark hair and blue eyes that look identical to sapphires. I could honestly get lost in them, like a maze... or Joe's hair. He has clear, light skin, too, and often wears leather jackets and dark jeans. He's a cool, relaxed kind of guy but he has my back when I need it. He's right by Ray, Andy, and I's side when trouble happens and he's not afraid to fight if it's needed.

Finally, there's Andy. He's probably my favorite. He looks like he could kill you on the outside but on the inside, he's a fluffy sweetheart. Not to mention, his voice does not fit his build. He's really muscled, but he sounds like a goddamn seven-year-old when he talks. The first time we met, I thought he was screwing with me. In the end, I was embarrassed and couldn't stop feeling guilty for getting mad at him. He's a really sweet guy, and like Dallon, he's not afraid to fight when he needs to. A few kids were giving me trouble on my first day of school, and he was the first person there. He socked one of them in the jaw and asked if I was alright, then invited me to sit at his table with Dallon and Ray (Which I accepted, of course).

Now, I'm in first period English with Mr. Parkman. He's teaching something I've already learned at my last school, and it's honestly boring. It's taking all my will not to fall asleep but I know if I do, he would snap at me and everyone would start staring and-

It would not end up good...

I knot my fingers together nervously as I look up at the clock: 9:57 AM. Only one minute has passed. It's too slow.

It reminds me of a century ago. When time would go too fast. I would sit in the back of English gnawing on my lip and look at the clock every five seconds. It was a bad habit of mine, still is... but the danger is gone. Dad isn't at home anymore, I have a new family, and I might get another soon. No more beatings, no more scars, no more lies, no more fake smiles.

Who am I kidding?

Just because they're gone doesn't mean the pain will be. The scars across my back and thighs and arms still sting, I'm okay is still the most told lie that's come from my mouth, I'll still smile when I don't want to. I'm still anxious, I'll still starve because I'm still ugly, I still miss Mom, I'd still trade my life for hers...

The bell rings (finally), and I take the chance to immediately get out of my seat and walk out the door as quickly as possible. I don't want to be here. I want to be in Gerard's arms. I want my sugar back where he's mine, and I'm his... only a couple more hours, right?

Next period is an hour of Social Studies, then one of Math, and finally Science. It's honestly a really boring day of classes. There is nothing to say about them. I get in each class, take a seat, do the work (which I've already done for all three classes), and wait to leave. The same thing happened at Mountainside but still...

It's halfway through Science. The room is near completely quiet, and the only sound is that of pencils scribbling on paper, the occasional sigh. It's a test that nobody wants to do, and the only thing stopping us from not trying is the fact that it could raise some of our grades by nearly 10%. I don't need it, but there are a few people who are here that do. It's almost entirely silent, and when the announcement finally does come over the intercom, I nearly jump out of my seat, half out of excitement and anticipation, half out of surprise.

"Can I please have Patrick Stumph to the office? Patrick Stumph to the office? He'll be leaving for the day."

I immediately stand up and pack my backpack with the papers even though I seriously doubt I'll need them again. A soft blush crosses my face when a few classmates start whispering to each other, but I try not to let my anxiety get to me.

"I'll see you in a bit, Patrick," Mr. Nakamura calls as I leave. Or never.

"Goodbye, Mr. Nakamura."

The walk to the office feels like an eternity. The halls are too long to be normal, the turns are a little too broad. I feel like I'm going to puke out of nervousness (not that I have any food in me at the moment) as I continue down the hall and finally reach the office.

As soon as Gerard's in sight I lose my self-control and begin sprinting down the corridor. It's only been three days since I last saw him, but it felt like a good ten years and then some. As soon as my arms wrap around his shoulders, he hugs back and hums in satisfaction, "Good morning, Sugar."

"I missed you," I whisper as I look up and into his beautiful brown eyes. They're just... beautiful... That's the only way I ever have and ever will be able to describe them.

"I missed you, too," He whispers back as he brushes my hair out of my eyes, "I got you a present."

I blush, "why?"

"Because I love you," He smiles, "You're fucking adorable..."

"Language," Donna snaps as Allie signs me out.

"Sorry, Mama," Gerard replies, it's not real, though. Everyone knows that.

He reaches over and pulls a fedora from Donna's bag, it's a blur, and I don't know what the colors are in the bad lighting. He proceeds to brush it off and setting it on my head.

"What?" I blush a dark red as I take it off and examine it. It's a dark brown, the color of Gerard's eyes but lighter... it's the color of dark chocolate. The band is a white, cream color and all together it looks like coffee and sugar.

"I love it," I whisper a small smile on my face, and I feel like I might cry. Nobody's gotten me a present in at least 3 years, neither birthday nor Christmas.

"R-Really?" My boyfriend asks shyly.

I pull Gerard into another hug, but this time my lips are pressed on his as we embrace. His hands rest on my hips while mine wrap around his shoulders and I let myself get lost in those delicate coffee lips, with just a hint of sugar. It tastes like a cold autumn morning or early sunsets over Monroeville (a small town just outside this little city of Summit). His lips take me to days where I'd smile as I gazed at Kevin and Dad talking about woodshop. That taste takes me to happy memories.

But most of all, it reminds me of my boyfriend. The boy who saved my life, the boy who was brave when I couldn't be. The boy who made me promise to heal. The boy with long, dark hair and troubled whiskey eyes. The artist on the bus. The broken boy whose lost nearly all of his family to grief or death. He's the strongest, but he's the most likely to go back to help others.

He pulls the fedora from my hand and places it back on my head.

"Okay, you two, you ready to go?" Mark asks with a slight laugh at how attached to each other we are.

"Sure," Gerard smirks before he kisses my cheek and makes me blush and smile. He knows it always makes me all flustered and I hate him for always doing it.

We leave the school, Gerard and I holding hands but my thoughts lie to my actions. I'm nervous because the same thoughts keep stirring in my mind like leaves in a breeze. What if Donna isn't qualified? What if Mark and Allie don't want me to go? What if the people at the center don't approve of the decision and instead think that I'd be better off at Allie and Mark's? I don't know. It's just scary, and I'm worried. It's not making it any better.

Would you stop referring to me as it? You're pathetic, and you know damn well they don't want you with Gerard. It would only cause more flashbacks than you already have. You don't want that, do you?

Whatever.

I try to ignore it, but it won't go away. It just makes me want to kill myself, which is not what I really have planned right now.

In my perfect world, Gerard would be mine, all mine. It would just be him and I spending day after day together. In my perfect world, Pete would talk to me more, and we would be best friends like before. In my perfect world, Brendon and Ryan would be living happily together, visiting often. In my perfect world, though, Mom would be alive, Dad wouldn't be abusive, Kevin would be normal, and Megan would be happy again. In my perfect world, I would look beautiful. I wouldn't be an ugly fuck. In my perfect world, there would be no reason for scars up and down my arms and thighs and back. In my perfect world, I wouldn't flinch every time someone would touch me. In my perfect fucking world, I wouldn't get nervous every time I go in public. In my perfect world, Donald would be alive, Donna wouldn't smoke, and Mikey would live with them again.

But this isn't a perfect world. We have school, Pete and I aren't friends like we used to be, Brendon and Ryan don't live together, Mom is dead, Dad is in jail, Kevin is fucked up, and Megan is being torn apart from the inside. I look ugly and fat and misshapen, I have scars up and down my arms and things, and back, I do flinch every time someone touches me, I do get nervous in public, Donald is dead, Donna is an addict, Mikey is in The Black Parade. Life fucked us all over pretty bad.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't even realize we're halfway to the orphanage until I look to my left and Gerard isn't sitting in the seat beside me. Only an empty cushion takes up the space. Real sexy.

The drive is somewhat short since the school isn't too far from the center and there isn't a lot of traffic since (surprise) it's the middle of the day, but it's long enough. Allie and Mark are whispering in the front, but that doesn't stop me from eavesdropping on in their conversation.

"I don't know if this is the best option for him, I mean Gerard's dealing with enough problems as it is with his Dad's death and to have to take care of someone with PTSD, depression, anorexia, and anxiety? It's near impossible not to mention he's still going through grief for his mom..." Mark whispers. I swear I hear my heart crack with those words. Am I really a burden to Gerard? I... hadn't thought about that before...

Idiot, I've known this for a while. He doesn't want to take care of someone like you. He's just nice. You know that if you stay with him, it'll end up badly. You're going to get into a fight with him. He's going to get stressed. He could kill himself because of you. Do you want that to happen? Do you want him to die?

No, but-

Fucking idiot. If you don't want him to die, you shouldn't have gone through with this.

I really am a burden, aren't I...

Yes, you really are. Did it really take you this long to realize this? You're dumber than I thought. I guess it makes sense for a faggot like you.

I'm so sorry...

Damn, right you should be.

"Mark, he's going to be okay. Gerard's healing from his dad and having another son again might cheer Donna up a little bit. He might be able to help her stop smoking." Allie replies sweetly.

"So he'd just be there to replace Mikey, huh?" Mark says skeptically. Whatever the first sentence did to me is quickly put to shame with that. I'm just a replacement to fix a hole in Donna's heart. I'm just the new Mikey... but I'll never be like Mikey. I'm too broken to be like Mikey. Mikey is strong and a fighter. He'd never give up like I have.

I don't need to know him all that well to know that. He fought with Gerard the first time I met him. I'm not like that. He actually looks kind of hot but me? I'm a disappointment to everyone who knows me. If I really am a replacement, Donna's gonna be pretty damn disappointed in me. I'm fucked up. Really, really fucked up.

"Mark, don't say that. He's a good kid, Donna offered to take him in. I think it'll be good for all of them and I'm happy to know some people can take care of him. Sure, it might not be our happy ending, but that doesn't mean it can't be his," Allie snaps.

Now I feel guilty. I didn't even think about how this might affect Mark and Allie. I mean, I'm sure they're happy to get rid of me, but now they'll have to apply again, won't they? I'm actually not really sure how foster care systems work other than I get put into a house to heal until someone adopts me.

I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking this whole thing, and I need to let my mind rest for a bit.

The rest of the car ride is slow as my anxiety keeps building and I feel like I'm about to scream by the time we finally get there. My hands are shaky and sweaty as I hobble out the car and immediately take Gerard's hand. He must have noticed my nervousness because soon after we're inside the building, he asks, "Are you alright?"

It's all I can do to reply with the first lie that comes to my mind, "Yeah, I'm all right." The words don't feel like they're coming out of my mouth. They're coming from it. That thing in the back of my mind. I want it to stop, but of course, it won't stop, why would the voice stop? It just wants to see me fall apart beneath it. I don't even know where it comes from.

I come from you, Idiot. You made me. This is your fault that I'm here. You can't blame it on me, it's all you this time.

I guess that's my fault, too. There's a lot of weight being put on my shoulders, and I don't know if I necessarily like it. Gerard only shakes his head as he takes a seat, me right beside him while Mark, Allie, and Donna chit chat beside us.

"Patrick, I don't like you lying..." He whispers.

"I'm not lying. I'm okay." I reply. I nearly add an 'I promise' but... I don't want to break a promise, no, not yet.

Gerard sighs, his frustration easy to see and I lean back slightly, trying to shrink. It's what I did when Dad got mad... Gerard could be just as dangerous.

"Sugar, I need you to promise me something." He asks. I nod hesitantly, I know exactly where this is going, "Promise not to lie to me? I don't like it, and I can never tell if you really are okay or not. I want to help you, and whatever your anxiety tells you, you aren't a burden. You are wonderful, and I want to help you through this."

I lower my eyes. I can't promise that. It's crazy. As stupid as saying I'm so masochistic, I liked it when Dad beat me and Kevin raped me. I can't promise Gerard something that strong...

"I... Can't..." I whisper. My voice cracks. I'm pathetic.

"Please, Sugar," He begs. I feel bad for making him go that far, but I really don't want to keep that promise. I don't want him to know the truth. I don't want him to ask that question, and when I reply with the truth, it only puts more weight on his shoulders, and he'll feel like he's not doing enough when he is.

I don't know why I reply with the answer opposite my thoughts, but I say it anyways, "Okay, I promise."

"How strong are your promises?" He asks a slight smile sketched on his worried expression.

I lean forward so our lips are brushing and I whisper six words that seal the vow, "I have yet to break one."

He breaks the space between us, kissing me slowly while his hands run up my leg. I jump slightly as it reaches around my crotch but they only continue to travel up, past my stomach, to my shoulders, and down my arms, warming my scars.

"Can I see Patrick Stumph, Mark and Allie Hoppus, and Donna and Gerard Way, please?" A woman calls. Gerard pulls away, leaving my lips empty and my heart even more desolate. I miss his touch almost immediately, and I don't understand why. I shouldn't be this clingy...

Get your lazy ass up already, you don't have all fucking day.

I follow it's instructions and stand up, helping Gerard up soon after. He kisses me once again, and I swear I hear someone whisper, "Faggots," Somewhere. I quickly pull away blushing in embarrassment and shame.

Well, they aren't wrong.

They're not wrong. I am just a useless faggot.

My knees feel wobbly as I pull Gerard along behind me, following the adults into a backroom. The room reminds me of where I go for counseling with Dr. Strauss except now we're in Nikki Sanders' room with multiple couches in a circle. I take a seat beside Gerard, but Allie sits on my other side, only making me feel more nervous than I already do.

Gerard notices again, but this time he tells me, "Patrick, listen to me, it's going to be okay, all right?"

I nod softly, emptily, but once his words actually reach me, I nod with more enthusiasm and reply, "Okay."

The door shuts behind Nikki, and as I look at her, I realize she looks almost exactly like Dr. Strauss. She has the same blonde hair, pale lips, piercing blue eyes. It must be a coincidence...

"Good evening," She says as she takes a seat and looks over her clipboard for a moment, "It looks like... Patrick," She makes eye contact with me, it's terrifying, and I shrink back into the couch, "you want to... change your foster home and live with Donna and Gerard instead?"

"I-I... uh..." I blush at my attempt and fail to find words, but Donna interrupts, saving me.

"I've offered to adopt him." She says proudly.

"Is that so?" Nikki asks, looking over the files. Her eyes widen somewhere in there and she purses her lips before continuing. It must be mine, "And why is this?"

"Patrick deserves a long-term home where there isn't a risk of him being moved. He needs somewhere stable, especially with some of his... erm..." She looks over at me before continuing, "Conditions.

Nikki crosses her legs and purses here lips like that wasn't a valid answer, "And what about you, Patrick? Why do you want to live with Donna and Gerard?"

"B-Because..." I trail off, finding it significantly hard to answer, "I love Gerard... And I want to live with him. Donna is a great mother and I-" I look to her as I say the last few words with a soft confidence, "I trust her."

"Mark, Allie? Do you have any say in the matter? Any questions, comments, concerns?" Nikki asks as she finishes scribbling down a note on her clipboard.

Mark and Allie exchange glances beside me, Allie is the one to speak, "I think... I think this would be good for Patrick. He can have some of his old friends, and he'd be happier living with his boyfriend and in contact with his friends."

Mark nods in agreement, raising my hopes. Is this really going to work? Can I really stay with Gerard and Donna? Maybe even meet Mikey?

Nikki nods slowly as she turns and takes a few files from her desk, "Donna, you'll have to fill out some paperwork but otherwise, Patrick," She looks to me with a soft grin. Tracy's sweet smile, "You're free to go."

The words don't process right away. You're free to go. You're free to go. You're free to go? You're free to go. Oh... Oh! You're free to go!

Gerard pulls me into a tight embrace and kisses me with a soft smile.

"We did it, Baby, we did it," He sounds close to tears. Tears of joy of course.

"We... We did?" I smile, "We did..."

He kisses my cheek, only making me blush and laugh before kissing his soft coffee lips.

***

I set my bag down in Gerard's room. We made it. We actually made it. I still can't believe. I get to live with Gerard, my own boyfriend. We can share a bedroom, eat breakfast and lunch and dinner together, I can know what it's like to live with him. I might even get to have some sex...

If you can. Oh my god, you're pathetic. You want to, but you know you can't. He's just going to rape you like Kevin did, not to mention you couldn't even take a handjob-blowjob. You're a fucking disappointment.

I am pathetic...

So maybe no sex and I really don't want to be the one to dream when I know this won't last long before he gets upset with me. He'll probably start beating me within a month-no-a week. It took a month for Dad to beat me after the funeral, maybe Gerard will beat that record.

"Hey, Sugar," Gerard whispers lazily behind me as he hugs me. I flinch and let out a whimper of fear. I was lost in my thoughts again.

"It's just me, Baby," He whispers as he kisses my neck. I find myself smiling once I calm down and his hands trail up and down my stomach. I pull them to my arms instead, though, I don't want him anywhere near my stomach right now. I don't like how I look... there...

He moves my bag to the edge of his bed before coming back to me and kissing me softly, "Mmm..." He hums, "I like this..."

I smile softly, "Me, too."

I leave his arms soon after, though, still needing to unpack my bags. I begin to think as I work, my thoughts turning from Gerard to the drive here. I saw my old house on my way, thankfully, there wasn't a flashback, but I did end up crying into Gerard's shoulder for a bit, much to my embarrassment. He didn't seem to mind, but I know he did. It's annoying. I'm annoying.

Unpacking takes forever. I have to unpack my bag, put it into an old drawer that Donna had stored in the basement, and then everything that wasn't clothes (A few pictures and a couple CD's) had to go into Gerard's desk. Okay, so I guess it didn't take that long but it still was a lot of hard work, and by the end of it, I was a sweaty mess, and I had to take a shower.

Gerard offered to join me, but I said no, I don't want him to see me naked from the waist up. It's disgusting, and it just makes me want to puke. As I stand, watching myself in the mirror while I wait for the shower to warm up I can see each and every thing that's wrong with me. The scars along my heavy arms, the scars on my chubby thighs, the occasional mark along my big stomach. I'll never look good enough. I wonder if he has a knife or razor somewhere. I could really use it right now. He used to cut, right? So there has to be one...

I keep looking, then turn to see my back, scabbed over but it looks like any of them could break at any moment. It's disgusting. I'm disgusting. As I keep looking I feel tears rise to my eyes, how did I get so ugly? How did this happen to me? How could something so simple as stress eating lead to this? I'm pathetic. I killed my mom, and I resorted to stress eating. I gained weight, so I resorted to starving, I wasn't losing enough weight, so I resorted to purging, too. I'm still fat, so I began cutting along my stomach. I still see words I etched into my skin long ago, U-G-L-Y. Disgusting and pathetic would better fit me now.

I can't take it. I turn away and walk into the shower before turning the temperature down, down, down. It feels like tiny icicles stabbing at my unwanted body, but I know I deserve it. I deserve it all. I just sit and let the pain soak into my skin.

The temperature keeps going lower and lower and lower until I can't take it and I need to turn it back up.

Don't you dare. You deserve this. You deserve all of this you little shit. You did this to yourself now this is your punishment.

I don't. It's true. It's all my fault.

I turn the temperature all the way to the left, so it's completely cold and at its lowest temperature. I'm shivering, but I don't bother to turn it up as I massage shampoo into my hair and feel hot tears stream down my cheeks. It hurts. It fucking hurts, and I don't feel adrenaline coming anytime soon. I'm just gonna have to take it.

I finish washing and quickly rinse myself off before turning off the water and stepping out. There is no steam on the mirror so I can only see my ugly self. Every little flaw in my design. I used to look good. I used to look okay.

You wish. You never looked good, you were always this much of a useless fag.

I'm done arguing with you. I agree. Maybe I never did look good. I was always just an ugly whore.

Whore. I haven't used that word in a while. It is true. I should use it more. Kevin said it, Bob said it, I'm saying it now. I'm a whore and a slut. Gerard might disagree, but he's wrong.

I am a whore. I am a slut. I am disgusting. I am a faggot. I am pathetic. I am a cutter. I am a cunt. I am a piece of shit. I am stupid. I am fat. I am ugly. I am annoying. I am depressed. I am a sad excuse for a son. I am a disappointment.

I am already falling back into my old habits.

I want someone to save me from this. It's a black hole that sucks me back in every time I even get the tiniest bit depressed, and I can't escape.

I'm a goner.

Somebody catch my breath.