(Patrick's POV)

My shower would have been ten times better with Pete. 

That's the thought that kept swirling through my head as I rubbed the body wash onto my chest. We could have had amazing shower sex. I could have washed his hair and his back. It could have all been completely domestic.

Instead he decided to go back to that hotel with that fake doctor all because they had a little disagreement. And it was fine. I was totally cool with it. So my boyfriend was locked up in a hotel with a guy he fucked. So what? It was no big deal.

Except for the fact that it was a big deal! Because Pete didn't tell me about fucking Tyler. If I hadn't used the bathroom in that bar, I wouldn't even know. The same way he didn't know that I fucked Brendon again. God, we were so fucked.

No pun intended.

The vibration of my phone was a welcomed distraction from the unwanted reality of our relationship. I let my fingers run under the flow of water. Ridding them of the Olay scented suds. I didn't bother drying my hands before stepping out for the phone. It was probably Pete calling to tell me he was on his way. Asking if I wanted him to stop for something to eat.

I was slightly disappointed at seeing Elisa's name instead. It took a few tries for my wet fingertip to slid across the screen properly.

"Hello?"

"Patrick. Hi!"

"Hi." So this was a random social call. I could live with that.

"What's up? What's going on?"

"I was just in the shower?"

"Naked?"

"Of course" I laughed. Leaning on the edge of the sink.

"Lucky shower." She teased. When I didn't respond with a similar joke, she continued. "Patrick, I can't stop thinking about that kiss."

I'd already forgotten it. "Elisa-"

"I know I'm the one that stopped you-"

"And I'm glad you did."

"But that was be- what?" She sounded hurt. I picked a great time to reactivate my conscious.

"It would have been wrong. It would have been disrespectful to both you and Pete. It was disrespectful."

"How?"

"Pete doesn't deserve to be cheated on. And you don't deserve to be used like that. You're a wonderful person, Elisa. I've hurt you enough already."

"I'm fine with it." Elisa wasn't trying to hide the desperation.

"You're not." I knew she couldn't see me but that didn't stop me from shaking my head. "You just think you are because you think you won't love anyone after me."

"I won't."

"You will. You're young and beautiful. You've got so much life ahead of you."

"No one wants a single mom." I almost didn't hear her.

"We'll co-parent." I blurted out, because what the hell else could I have said to make her feel better? It was her fault this was happening. She orchestrated this pregnancy against our agreement. I still don't know if I want to be a father. But that didn't mean she should go through this alone. "Pete and I will babysit while you're fighting off the men with a stick." She sniffed. I couldn't tell if it was laughter or cries." From what I knew of pregnant women, it could be both. "You're amazing. I'm a piece of shit. But I'm trying."

This time I was sure she laughed. "Can we have lunch?"

"Only if Pete can come."

"Of course." Her sigh was resigned. Accepting.

"Now I have to shower so..."

I was rewarded with another small laugh. "See you."

She ended the call before I could. For the first time in a long time I felt light. The stress was being lifted from my shoulder bit by bit. I wanted all of it gone. I wanted to start fresh after our engagement. So I was going to tell Pete everything. What happened with Brendon. What I knew about Tyler. What almost happened with Ryan. And then I'd hope that he was just fucked up enough to forgive me. To let me forgive him. Maybe even have a courthouse wedding before we moved to Canada with Tyler.

My phone vibrated again. This time I stepped out of the shower instantly to answer. One glance at the screen and I was smiling wide enough to crack my face.

"Pete?"

"Help me."

"Pete?" There was no verbal response. But there was a loud thud. My blood ran cold. "Pete, say something." Nothing. "Make a noise. Anything. Pete? Shit!"

I needed to do something. I ran from the bathroom. My eyes darted around the room. Clothes. I needed clothes. I needed to call 911. But I couldn't hang up on Pete. What if he called out for me and I wasn't there? I looked down at the phone. My finger tip pushed down on the words Add Call. There was a single ring before the 911 operator spoke up.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"Something is wrong with my boyfriend." The phone was held between my shoulder and ear while I tugged on a pair of pants. My wet body made it difficult.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know." I snapped. If I did I would have led with that. "He called me. He's on the line. And he has cancer. He's prone to black outs. And I heard a fucking bang. Do you you understand?"

"Sir, please remain calm for me. Where is your boyfriend?"

"Dun Dynasty room 112. But I don't think he can open the door!" I cried. "He can't open the door, okay?"

"Sir, the paramedics are on their way."

"Okay." I slipped the t-shirt on next. Moving the phone from my ear long enough to get it over my head.

"Would you like to stay on the line?"

"No."

"Okay, sir. Thank you for you call."

The line clicked and I panicked. Looking down at my phone to make sure my boyfriend was still on the line. He was. "Pete, did you hear that? The paramedics are on the way. I know they're going to take you to the closest hospital." My keys were in my hand and I was heading for the door. My shoes were near the couch where I kicked them off last night. I didn't have time to stop and put them on.

The phone stayed cradled to my ear as I got into my car. Starting it and taking off down the street as quickly as I could. "You're gonna be okay, baby. You hear me? You're going to be fine. I promise." A stop sign was up ahead. I saw it coming but couldn't bring myself to press down on the breaks. That street was always empty anyway. "I'm going to be there soon." There was a rumbling on the other line. My heartbeat sped up. He was responsive. He was waking up.

"Mr. Wentz can you hear us?" The woman's voice was distant. The paramedics were there. Thank god!

"Get the receptionist out of here." Came a harder, male voice.

"Hello?" I yelled into the phone.

"Is he bleeding?" The woman asked.

"What's happening?" I demanded. My free hand tightened on the wheel. The voices started to lower. They were moving away from the phone. I couldn't hear what they were saying anymore. "Hello!" I screamed loud enough to pop a vessel. A vain attempt at gaining their attention. "Please pick up the phone. I'm his fiance! I need to know what's going on."

"Is there noise coming from the phone?" The man was suddenly closer. His voice rang clear. "Hello?"

"Hello!" I sobbed in relief. "This is Patrick Stump. I'm Pete Wentz's fiancé. I called for the ambulance. Can you please tell me what's going on?"

"Mr. Wentz was unconscious on the bed when we arrived." The bed? So he didn't fall on the floor. That was good. This was good news. "Were taking him to the truck to test his vitals on the way to the hospital."

"He's alive?" I had to ask. Just to soothe my worried mind.

"Yes, sir."

Yes. Did he say yes? Yes he said yes. Okay. Good. Adrenaline surged through me. The pressure of my foot increased on gas. I had to get there before the ambulance. I had to be waiting for him.

"C-Can you tell me what hospital?"

"Yes sir. It's..."

The rest of what he was saying became background noise. As if I were listening from under water. In my peripheral vision I spotted something coming towards me from the right. It's a car! My common sense yelled at me. I was on the highway so what else could it be? Oh fuck it was a car! I slammed on the breaks. Looking up in time to see the red light my car was passing. 

Bad move, Patrick.

It all happened in slow motion from there. Despite the other driver's last minute attempt to swerve, the car crashed into mine. My body wanted to jerk forward but the seatbelt -I didn't remember clicking on- prevented it. Snapping me back in my seat viciously. I didn't have time to register the pain before an airbag was exploding in my face. Locking my hands under it. Making it impossible for me to breathe past it. How ironic that the thing that was supposed to be saving my life was suffocating me.

The force of the opposing car was enough to send my car skidding further down the highway. Except it was being moved sideways.  I tried to focus on breathing. I tried to focus on the pain in my head. And my neck. And my back. And my arms. And my phone. Where was my phone? Pete! I needed to get up and finish driving to Pete. Why couldn't I move? How was my car still moving? I wish it would stop.

Satan himself conceded to my wishes. My car was jerked to a stop by the collision of another vehicle hitting it from the left. The seat belt wasn't made to withstand that sort of hit. My body didn't yank forward again. It couldn't if it wanted to. That damn homicidal airbag was still in the way. But it did throw my body sideways.

The last thing I remembered was my head slamming against the driver side window. The sound of shattering glass filling my already ringing ears.

THE END

A/N: Holy shit that took forever and I am so sorry. For both the wait and the way this chapter turned for the worst. This is technically the last chapter. I will most likely be updating some time next with the epilogue. Maybe. Maybe I'll just let it end like this because I'm an evil son of a bitch. Who knows?