The Problem with Patrick || Fall Out Boy

the best of us can find happiness in misery

"Okay..." Patrick mumbled uncertainly. He didn't exactly feel very confident about this meeting. It seemed everywhere he went now, he had Pete by his side, ready to quickly help if he forgot something or didn't understand or took too long to respond. He needed Pete, he wasn't sure if he was going to last very long without him.

"The doctor said that if your leg is healing well then you might be able to go from the cast to a boot today." Pete changed the subject with a smile. "We'll just have to see how the x-rays go. If it's all healing in the right places and only needs a little bit of support, then you might be able to upgrade."

"So no more cast?" Patrick asked.

"Just the plastic boot. It'll be the same size as the cast, but you can walk on it and stuff." Pete explained. "But don't expect it, we gotta wait for what the x-rays say."

"Oh, okay." He nodded.

"Finish up your breakfast and we'll get ready to go." Pete told him, pushing the plate against his elbow (Patrick had since picked the puzzle back up). Begrudgingly, he did eat as requested, and Patrick went to shower and get ready while Pete did the dishes, before doing the same.

The hospital was the first stop, and as always, Patrick greeted his many friends on the way in. Doctors, nurses, reception staff, everyone knew him around here. He was always so happy to see them, and because of that, most were pretty happy to see him as well. Pete didn't mind. It was better that he was comfortable here rather than terrified of it.

In fact, he was having such a good time that he didn't even notice when his name was called. Pete essentially had to drag him into the office so they could actually get started.

"I was having a good time!" Patrick defended, pouting as he sat down on the bed in the doctor's office.

Patrick's doctor smiled at him warmly. "Well, let's see if we can get this done quickly so you can go back to them. How does that sound?"

"Good..."

"Awesome. So we're gonna start today, and I'm just gonna ask you a few questions and we'll have a bit of a chat about your memory, and then we'll move onto the x-ray, alright?"

"Can Pete help me if I don't know the answers to the questions?" Patrick asked, growing visibly nervous at the thought. "He wasn't allowed to at the last appointment and I didn't know them all and it was really bad..."

Pete winced as well, thinking back. He'd been so startled and the doctor they were talking to really wasn't being very patient with him. It had ended in tears, and the only way that Pete managed to make him feel better was to give him another turn at the drums.

The drums had become Patrick's salvation. It was something that he'd reconnected his passion with, and Pete was sure that if he could get down those stairs on his own, then he'd be on them 24/7. He really did just love to sit there and bash away his emotions, and it was just good to see him being himself again. Sometimes he played something that sounded oddly familiar (Pete always did recognise when he was playing a Fall Out Boy song, and it always instilled hope within him) and sometimes he just played freestyle, but it was amazing to hear him play either way.

"Sorry Patrick, I just need your answers to these ones." The doctor apologised. "But don't worry if you can't answer all of them, they're not terrible important. Just a quick check up."

He just looked down at his lap and nodded glumly.

Most of them were simple things that he could name quickly, like his name, his age, the current date, Pete's name, his job, and etcetera. The ones that tripped him up were things like what he did at high school, how he broke his leg and how long he was in the hospital for. But the doctor did have to admit that he was making remarkable progress.

"So I'm getting better?" Patrick asked, swinging his legs back and forth.

"You're getting better faster than we thought you would." He explained with a smile.

"But that's only today." Pete had to admit. "The other day he forgot his leg was broken, and there was a bit of drama around that..."

Patrick went red in embarrassment, and the doctor frowned. "Well, that's... unusual. Any other experiences like that?"

"We had some friends around the night he came home, and I explained we were gonna be having dinner and then band practice, but then completely forgot we were gonna have band practice." Pete listed. "It's just little things. Like he knows all the big things in his life, but the details are constantly slipping away."

"I-I know details!" Patrick attempted to justify. "U-Um... the curtains in Pete's bedroom are a dark grey!"

"They're a blue-grey, but look, I figured it would be better to just bring it up." Pete sighed.

"Okay, I'll put it down, but I don't think it's a huge deal right now. It should recover in fair time." The doctor typed some things into his computer. "Don't worry too much, but if it's still continuing in a few months' time, then we'll look at what we can do from there."

That seemed to be the answer for everything, Pete decided, tight-lipped. It was always just a waiting game. Just wait and Patrick will wake up from his coma. Just wait and he'll stop hallucinating. Just wait and he'll remember who he is. Just wait and his leg will heal. Just wait and his memory will be fixed. It was annoying, just because he felt so helpless. He was getting desperate, he wanted to be able to give Patrick something, or take him somewhere, or just do something other than waiting around for him to get better, because it was killing him to see his best friend like this.

"Do you guys wanna come with me and we'll get these x-rays done?"

"X-rays?" Patrick questioned.

"Uh huh, of your foot, remember?" Pete prompted, making eye contact with the doctor.

"Uh..." Even though Patrick had no idea what they were talking about, he could sense the fact that he was being tested here, and pretended to know anyway. "Yeah, of course. On my foot, yeah. Let's go."

Pete sighed. "Alright. C'mon."

The x-rays were common practice now, and Patrick was familiar with what to do. The whole process took under 10 minutes, and after waiting for the results, it was all good news. Off would go the cast, and on would go the plastic boot for another 2 months.

"Now, just because you can walk on it right now, doesn't mean you should overexert it." The doctor told Patrick sternly, getting ready with his cast saw. "Only short trips, use your crutches, make sure that it's not carrying your full weight. If you overexert, then there's the chance you'll need it for a hell of a lot longer."

"Okay..." Patrick mumbled, glancing at the cast saw and grabbing Pete's arm in alarm. It was loud, it was spinning, and it was about to come into contact with Patrick's leg. To say he was terrified would be fairly accuate, and clutched Pete's arm against his chest tightly.

"It's not going to hurt you, it's got a dull blade, see?" The doctor held the saw against his own hand, revealing no damage. "It's just gonna get the cast off and then it'll be all over."

Patrick had clenched his eyes shut and was humming under his breath as a distraction from the spinning wheel of death. The doctor called a nurse to help hold him still (If he jumped, there was a chance of injury), and began to saw.

Patrick cried during the procedure, despite Pete attempting to distract him with tales of the pizza they werThe getting for dinner (They were all going out to his old favourite pizza shop, and tonight was the all-you-can-eat buffet). But it was only a few minutes, and boom, the cast was off.

"There we go, all done!"

Patrick wiped his eyes and glanced at his leg, which was fairly swollen and funny-looking, but didn't get a long look as the boot was fastened firmly onto his ankle. Pete helped him up and handed him his crutches, and before long the two were back in the car, on the way to the next thing on their list of errands.

"How's it feel?" Pete asked, trying to make conversation.

"Weird." Patrick mumbled, tapping his fingernails on the plastic edge. "I don't know about it yet."

"It'll mean that you can get up the stairs by yourself." Pete smiled at him. "So you can drum whenever you want."

That was the only encouragement Patrick needed. He loved the boot already.