an: I re wrote the chapter

"Dad come on, you're getting old" Bronx groans as drags me onto the baseball field. I grab the backpack full of baseballs and walk out to the center of the field "why can't Patrick do this, I know nothing about baseball, or sports in general" I groan and grab the pitchers mitt.

"Cause Patrick wants to watch you make a fool of yourself" I hear my boyfriend whisper into my ear, pressing a kiss to my neck. He backs off and Bronx groans "no PDA." I pull the glove on and throw the ball at Bronx who swigs and hits it.

Patrick whistles "good hit." I grab another ball and throw it at him, he hits it and it comes directly flying at me and I double over when it hits me in the stomach. I throw up onto the field and Patrick grabs my sides, he shouting something but I can't understand it. Bronx runs over and I fall onto the dirt, clutching my stomach. Bronx and Patrick are both yelling now. I can taste something metallic, probably blood, which makes me throw up again.

Patrick picks me up and I hear sirens wailing, Bronx is crying and I can barely breathe. Patrick keeps kissing my forehead and then I'm whisked into the ambulance.

—

"Scoot over Dad" Bronx says, I groan and move over a bit. He jumps onto the bed and wraps his arms around my torso, I whimper and he immediately pulls away. "Pete..." Patrick sighs and walks over to me, he has blood on his white shirt and his eyes are red and puffy. "'Trick what happened?" He sighs and sits on the bed, making it a tight squeeze between the three of us. His eyes wander to my stomach, fuck. I pull my hospital gown up and see that the tiny, tiny bump that was there this morning was gone.

I start to sob, Patrick is crying too and his arms wrap tightly around me. Bronx doesn't seem to understand what's happening but he starts to cry into my chest. My sobs turn into ugly hiccup crying that makes my whole body quake under Patricks touch. "P-Pops what happened?" Bronx asks.

"Gone" is all I can say. Patrick nods, Bronx sits up straighter "were y-you p-pregnant?" I nod and he bites his lip "fuck..." Patrick's fingers sneak under my hospital gown and he rests his hand on my stomach. "I'm so sorry. Fuck, it's all my fault.." Bronx starts to cry but I shake my head "it's ok B, I'm not blaming you. I'm probably too old anyways" I tell him and rub his knee. He wipes his tears away and smiles at Patrick and I.

"Can we go home though? My whole body hurts" I mutter into Patricks chest. He smiles "yeah, Nick is coming over tomorrow just to check on you." A nurse comes in and Patrick and Bronx have to leave so she can see if I'm okay to go home. She is very quiet and seems to be uncomfortable around me, I don't mind though the less I have to talk the better. Before she leave she points at my clothes sitting in a neat pile on a chair. I change and we head back home.

On the drive home Bronx keep apologizing, eventually I tell him if he apologizes again I would take his phone away for a week, then he shut up. Patrick doesn't talk at all, he has a frown on his lips the whole ride home and even when we pull up. After entering the house his frown turns into a pout, I wrap my arm and his waist. He doesn't really react. "Trick, you alright?" He shrugs and squirms out of my grip, heading towards the backyard. I walk to our bedroom slowly, really moving as slow as possible because that was that caused me the least amount of pain.

Our bed is cold but I still let out a cry celebration when I flop onto it face first. I just lay there for a few minutes until Bronx jumps onto the bed "dad, pops is moping out outside and I texted Declan and he said to call Pat.... I got her number so maybe you should call her." Bronx hands me his phone and I call the number on his screen.

"'Ello?" A women with a harsh Russian accent answers. "Um... Hey, I'm Peter Wentz and my boyfriend, your son, is being a bit down. Dec said I should call Pat, I'm guessing that's you...?" The women on the other line chuckles "hello Peter. Patrick is a bit blue sometimes, if you send me the address I'll be there in a few." I sigh happily "thank you so much Ms. Stumph." She laughs again "it's Pat or Patricia, no Ms or Miss bull shit." I chuckle awkwardly and she hangs up.

Bronx drags me downstairs, I groan and stumble after him. Bronx tugs me into the kitchen were Patrick is doing shots with himself, his glasses are on the counter and his shirt is wet all over the front. "Patrick, I called you're mom. She has a very thick accent, now I see where you get yours from" I smile and hop onto a bar stool (ignore the pain that hurt like fucking hell.) He groans and downs another shot.

"Dude, you're gonna get alcohol poisoning if you keep taking shots" I tell him and glare at him. His shoulders shrug and he rubs his eyes "leave me be. I don't see how you're happy like a jolly-fucking-rancher, you just lost a fucking child that was living in your stomach." I sigh "Patrick, I'm trying to be positive  right now. If you want to throw a pity party the be my guest but don't suck me into it." He nods and Declan and Sam come running into the kitchen. Sam has a goofy grin on his face and Declan is giggling like a fucking school girl. Brendon and a tall guy with dark brown hair thats floppy and light stubble on his slim face walk into the room after the two teenagers. "Hey Pete, Rick. I'm fucking sorry about the baby Pete, that sucks balls" Brendon says and gives me a bro hug which I return. "This is my ex husband, Geo—" he interrupts "It's Ryan." Brendon nods and pushes his shades onto the top of his head.

"Are you guys back together?" I ask, Brendon shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak but he's interrupted by my boyfriends rather loud crying of "Mama!"

Patrica, I'm guessing, is short lady with maroon hair pulled into a messy bun and slim black glasses on her nose. She says something that sounds like dead car, Patrick grins as she engulfs him in a hug. They both start babbling in Russian, Patrick keeps using big hand gestures and Patrica keeps smirking.

Bronx, Declan and Sam join the room and we all gawk at the two. "What are you guys gawking at?" Patrick asks, his accent still thick.

I raise my eyebrows and mutter "who knew you speaking Russian would turn me on." Brendon punches my shoulder "Tmi dude."

"Ma'm  you sound like Red from Orange Is The New Black" Bronx says after squinting his eyes at Patrica for a while. "Who the fuck let you watch that?" Patrick asks and takes a swig from his vodka bottle, the alcohol having a bit of an affect and he scrunches his eyes shut. I bite my lip and Patrick scowls.

"So detka how 'bout you introduce me to your man and kid" Pat says while taking her sons bottle of alcohol away. Brendon grabs three beers, handing one to me and the other one to Ryan. "Mama thats Peter, Peter this is my mama Patrica. Bronx this is my Mama, Mama this is Bronx" Patrick slips off of his bar stool and picks Bronx up. Bronx squeals "hi, Mama Patrica." Patrica chuckles "you look like Rick" then faces me.

I gulp and my fingers tighten around my can. "No need to be anxious, I know a lot about you and know you are a good one" She smiles and pulls me into the same bone crushing hug that Patrick has.

—

"What do you think about my mama?" Patrick asks while he twirls a few strands of my hair around in his fingers. I kiss his bare shoulder and flip the pancake that had just started to sizzle in the pan "she's awesome and very Russian." He sighs happily and wraps his arms around my waist as I slide the thick pancake onto the large pile of pancakes then hand the plate to Patrick. "Bring this up to the kids, they are in our room since we apparently have the biggest tv" I tell him. He nods and grabs a few napkins before heading up.

Gerard walks into the kitchen, wiggling his eyebrows "how is he a fucking top, I mean his ass would probably crush me." I roll my eyes and turn off the stove. "I may not look it but I swear I'm too submissive for my own good, or in my case Patricks" we both burst out laughing and Brendon struts in sticking his lips out, making him look like a duck.

"Brendon, you look like a mother fucking duck!" Gerard hollers and slams his hand onto the marble counter. Brendon flips him off and grabs the last beer. "Dude, I wanted that" Ray whines, the same tall lanky blond who had taken Patrick home a month back is attached to his side. "Mikey the grown ups are talking, scram" Gerard tells his younger brother who kicks him in the shin. "Mother fucking fucker!" Gerard curses again.

"Language, Ihr seit so welche Tiere!" Patrick mutters while reentering the kitchen. "It's the single dad's club, minus Trohomo" Brendon giggles and fumbles with the scarf that was wrapped around his neck, I notice that Ryan was wearing said scarf earlier. "Bren, you are Ross are totally fucking" Ray says, he notices the scarf too. Brendon blushes ruby red and he flips his shades back down.

"What about Weekes?" Andy asks while dragging a sleepy Joe behind him. "Weekes is great, but Ryan is so fucking good in bed" Brendon says, a nasty grin is on his red lips. Joe yawns into his boyfriends neck and Andy coos, then turns in my direction "Pete can Joe nap on your couch?" I nod and wrap my arms around Patricks bare waist.

"You're showing a lot of fuckin' skin Stump" Gerard's boyfriend Frank giggles while returning from his 'smoke break' with Patrica. "Oh god detka, you look like a prostitute" she scoffs at her son but not really caring because Frank is starting up another conversation with her.

I get out my good hooch and we start to really drink. Patrick just takes a small sip because his vodka from earlier is starting to kick in. Patrica leaves right after I pour everyone a glass, she kisses my forehead and Patricks as well. Mikey is the first one to pass out, Gerard hollers something about him being a 'lightweight' and 'pussy.' Ray doesn't seem to mind, he's wasted but he carries Mikey to the big armchair by Bronx's video games and falls asleep there with Mikey on top of him. Frank and Gerard end up laying on the floor, Frank on top of Gerard and both of them were knocked the fuck out. Andy is still sober, being the straightedge he was so he schleps Brendon to the couch and sets him on the opposite side of where Joe was. Andy passes out on the little sofa by my cd collection.

Patrick and I are still awake, Patrick is coming off of his alcohol high and sinking back into his pity party state from earlier. "Patrick, baby please carry me. My back hurts" I whine and claw at his chest. He wraps his arms around my middle, tries to pick me up but topples over and I fall onto him. He smiles a bit and peck my lips "that was a fun night, considering what had happened this morning." I nod and rub my finger on the soft spot of golden chest hair that was barely to be seen on his pale skin. "You've freckles Ricky Stumptown" I mumble and kiss one on his shoulder. He laughs and almost knocks his head on the edge of the kitchen island "you have noticed." I nod and place his glasses next to us, then I place his hat on top of them and my (Brendons) Ray Ban's on top of the hat.

We kinda doze off for a few hours. At about five am somebody opens the fridge, I roll over and blink my eyes. "The fuck?" My eyes adjust to the bright light and I see Bronx eating cheese straight out of the bag. "Hey B" I groan and sit up. "Hey Dad" he says and takes another handful of cheese, stuffing it into his mouth. "Why are you up?" I stand up and grab the milk cartoon. "Dec and Sam were fucking when they thought we were all sleeping" Bronx tells me and I spit my milk all over the counter. "Yeah, my reaction" Bronx tells me and slams the fridge shut. "Go back to sleep Bronx" I tell him while picking my sleeping boyfriend up from the floor. He nods and goes to his room. I carry Patrick to the guest room, seeing how seven kids were sleeping in ours.