Slow Motion

Feedback is amazing and honestly it motivates me when I get lazy. lol



Brendon doesn't know how long he lays on the floor like that. His mind is foggy, slow, like, he's trudging through molasses. He honestly can't bring himself to believe it, to believe that Spencer could just up and go just like that. Steal Brendon's car and his best friend. Sure, he didn't always take the best care of Ryan but he made a promise, he promised that he'd always be there but now...now Spencer and Ryan could be anywhere.



Brendon doesn't know who to call, who can help in this situation. There doesn't seem to be anyone. Gabe, but knowing him he'd end up getting Spencer into trouble and Brendon was none too eager to start owing the older boy once again. Nate? Nate loves Ryan but will he even want to help Brendon? Maybe he, much like Spencer, thinks that Ryan is better off without Brendon in his life.



Brendon manages to fish out his cell phone, cycling through all the numbers. His tears have dried up but his breathing is uneven and a sharp pain is pressing all through his body. He sits up, knees pulled to his chest on Ryan's bedroom floor. He goes through lists of names, anyone, anyone who can help.



Only one name jumps out at him...Pete.



Normally he wouldn't, he already knows that he shouldn't but god, this is an emergency. Brendon decides to call Nate first, to just try because the worst case scenario is that he won't help and Brendon is already expecting that. He can't say that he isn't nervous as he dials Nate, it rings and rings but Nate doesn't anwser, must know that it's him. Brendon winds up leaving a message, his voice sounding oddly wrecked. He explains the situation to Nate, asks the older boy to call him back.



Brendon waits a good three minutes before he decides to call Pete. He finds the new number that the much older boy had called from the last time the two had spoken. Pete's words ring around in Brendon's head; 'If you decide you want to see me...just call.' So, that's what Brendon does, dialing up the new number and Brendon can only hope that wherever Pete is, he isn't with Patrick.



It rings three times before someone picks up. The sharp voice of Pete filling Brendon's ears.



"Brendon?" He sounds astonished that Brendon's actually called him. It's been weeks since they spoke that last time.



"Yeah," Brendon sounds like hell and he wonders if Pete will notice.



"What's wrong? You sound like shit."



"I-I need some help.."



"God, oh god, you're not like, ODing are you? Or comitting suicide or something?" Pete stammers out, voice filled with concern, a concern that honestly makes Brendon feel warm for the first time since he got home.



"No, nothing like that...I guess you could say I've been robbed. Can you-" He doesn't want to ask this of Pete, Pete sounds good...sounds like he's doing great in his life. "Can you come over?"



There's a silence over the line and Brendon's expecting a no. There's a slight sigh before Pete's soft voice issues over Brendon.



"Patrick is working so, I only have a couple hours but yeah...I'll be right over."



"Thanks Pete."



"Anything for you Bren."



They hang up and Brendon sits in the silence, feeling oddly comforted by talking to Pete. Pete meant that he wasn't all alone, that he wouldn't have to be here by himself, even if only for a couple of hours.



Brendon forces himself to move out to the couch, his mind still isn't working properly. He's not even sure what Pete could do to help. Pete doesn't know Spencer, couldn't handle post accident Ryan. And Spencer, Spencer is practically untraceable. Sure, he has Brendon's car but how much help could that be if Brendon didn't want to call the cops? The boy has no clue as to where Spencer might go, digging through his memories, of everything that Spencer ever told him. Only one thing comes to mind, the time when they were in the car together, when Spencer told Brendon that his mother lived in the area.



The black haired boy swears and tosses his cell phone down on the couch. He doesn't even know Spencer's mom's name and Smith is just about the most common last name in the world so finding it in a phonebook seems practically impossible. He's at a dead end and every second that he can't think of something to do is another second that Ryan and Spencer get farther away from him.



There's the sound of squealing tires outside of his house, it must be Pete. He doesn't bother looking, doesn't bother getting up because Pete already knows that the door is never locked, already knows that he's allowed to come right in. Pete is already familar with Brendon's life.



He can hear the scrape of rubber soles against the cement path leading up to his house and the door is being pushed open.



"Bren?" Pete's voice is soft, maybe like he wasn't sure what he was going to see once he came in.



"Couch." Brendon replies, shifting slightly so he could see Pete. The older man's face is just as soft as his voice.



"Hey." Pete looks around, scanning Brendon's house. "You said you were robbed? What got taken?" Pete asks, the rough scratch of Pete's shoes against the floor fills Brendon's ears. The older boy is standing beside him, peering down.



God, Pete does look good. Healthier than Brendon's seen in a long, long time. This Pete is almost a mirror version of the Pete that Brendon first met, world champion soccer player. Pete tucks his car keys into the pocket of his tight jeans, waits for Brendon to anwser.



"Ryan..."



Pete's eyes widen. "What? Brendon, what the fuck?" Pete plops down next to Brendon, worried eyes. Brendon's starting to get the impression that Pete thinks he's just tripping on some bad shit.



"Ryan, Ryan was what was taken." Brendon sounds pitiful and Pete, well, he's just silent. "Spencer took him." Brendon adds, giving Pete as much of the story as he'll understand. The older man cocks his head to the side.



"The kid that lived next door to you?" Brendon nods, not fully aware that Pete even knew Spencer. Though he should've been because Pete knows everyone, everyone but himself.



"He was living here and I came home and they were just...gone. He left me a goddamn note telling me that Ryan was better off without me!" Brendon holds back the tears, or at least he does until Pete's hand is resting warm and safe and comforting on his shoulder. "And he took my fucking car."



"It'll be alright." Pete's words are empty because no, nothing will ever be alright again. He's lost everything, everyone that matters. Brendon slumps down into Pete's touch, against Pete's body and the older boy is so safe and warm and Brendon just wants to be like this forever. He needs something consistant, can't keep getting passed around, he just can't.



Brendon does cry now, against Pete's shoulder, his neck. He's crying because the last two people who gave a shit about him are gone and he has no one to blame but himself. And even Pete, even Pete is temporary because he belongs to Patrick.



"Look," Pete starts, he tips Brendon's head up. "Look, we'll drive around okay? We'll look for your car and maybe we'll find them and you can talk Spencer into coming back here. Alright?" Brendon nods but he's not so sure that he likes that Pete's turned into mr. hopeful.



They leave in Pete's car...well, technically Andy's car but whatever. Pete's rambling, saying anything he can to keep the silence away, to keep Brendon's mind off the two missing pieces of his house, of his life. Pete talks about how he's managed to stay clean, he apologizes for the slip up he had when he called Brendon. He talks about how he works at a clothing store in the mall folding shirts for five bucks an hour and how Patrick is proud of him.



Brendon doesn't know what to think about this Pete Wentz.



Pete asks about Brendon's life, what's been happening besides this unfortunate situation. Brendon is surprised to find that he spills his guts. He tells Pete about Nate, about the porn and the suspected cheating, about the break up. He tells him about Spencer and the abuse and the sex and the way he's so good with Ryan. He talks about Ryan and how he speaks normally now, how he's getting better everyday. Jon and the suicide, Travis and the fight at the grocery store. Gabe and the sex, the favors, the framing, dirty cops and every other event that led up to this moment.



Pete sits in silence for a few long moments before he starts talking about folding t-shirts again.



The two of them are parked at a stop light when Brendon looks over at Pete. He just looks, tanned skin and jagged bangs, wide smile, bright eyes. Pete looks good. Brendon always thought that Pete was the worse out of the two of them, was always the one who would never be able to break away from the life of drugs and abuse. But now, now Pete had done it and Brendon hasn't, Brendon's now the worse, the one who can't break away from the gutter life that he's grown so fond of.



It seems like a lifetime ago that Brendon used to be so desperately in love with Pete. He won't lie and say that there isn't something still there, some deep caring that will never really fade away. Pete was his first after Ryan, after the one girl that Brendon had ever been with. But that love, the intense need to be with the older man, that has faded. That need belongs to Nate now. Somewhere along the line the two of them have shifted, changed, almost switched positions.



"I'm glad you called me." Pete starts, turns his head and promptly catches Brendon staring at him. "I mean, you know, after we broke up or whatever and I got clean...I thought we wouldn't be able to see each other anymore." The older man says.



"But Patrick still doesn't approve." Brendon points out, he could be wrong but he highly doubts that Patrick changed his opinion in the last few months. Pete shakes his head. "But I don't blame him. I mean, you were screwing me behind his back."



Pete's jaw tightens and the light changes but he nods, foot stepping on the gas. "Yeah, but he's forgiven me for that. We're working it out, we're going to be alright." Pete sounds desperate, desperate to believe that.



"You should tell Patrick that he doesn't have to worry." Pete tilts his head in Brendon's direction, questioning brown eyes. "I found someone whose worth being faithful to. I found my own Patrick."



Sure, okay, so maybe Brendon fucked up a couple of times with Nate but he still loves him more than anyone else he's ever been with.



"And your own Brendon." Pete adds, Brendon must look confused because Pete elaborates. "Spencer." He clarifies. Pete grins while Brendon holds a blank stare. He and Pete are sort of locked in the middle ground and it's hard to know where the two of them stand.



Brendon opens his mouth to say something back but the words get cut off by Pete.



"Bren, isn't that your car?" Pete asks and he's pointing, Brendon's head whipping around catching just the slightest of glimpses of his own car, parked alone in the parking lot of the supermarket. The same place that Brendon and Spencer had run into Travis. Pete can't stop in the middle of traffic but god, it is his car! Maybe, maybe Spencer went to the supermarket, stopped by there.



"Pete! We gotta go back!" Brendon urges, Pete nods and they speed through a yellow light, Pete turning swiftly and pulling a full 360 degree turnaround. Pete skidded over to the other side of the street, horns blaring and middle fingers waving around them. They get back to the supermarket, sliding into the lot and Pete claming a spot right next to Brendon's car.



Brendon's out of Pete's car before it's even fully stopped and he isn't sure which to go to first, the car or inside to see if the two boys were there. He picks the car first, a stark white note attached under the windshield wiper. It's from Spencer, simple and not at all helpful.



"What's it say?" Pete asks, leaning against the side of his own car, keys in hand. Brendon meets his eyes.



"I promised I would return your car..." Brendon swears and crumples up the paper, tossing it over his shoulder. The keys are in the ignition of the car, the doors unlocked and Brendon already knows that Spencer and Ryan won't be in the store. But he checks anyway.



Five minutes later he and Pete are back in the parking lot. Brendon's hands balled into fists.



"Do you want me to follow you home?" Pete asks, Brendon nods more automatically then of choice. It's getting darker and Brendon, well, he kind of doesn't want to be alone quite yet. They leave and Brendon has no idea what to do next. He found his car but in all honesty, that wasn't what he was looking for.



If he knew anything at all about Spencer, it's that he's good at hiding, keeping himself quiet and away from those he wants to stay away from. He was quickly realizing that chances were good that he'd never find them not unless Spencer wanted to be found.



Brendon drives and tries to keep a look out for anything, like maybe he'll just randomly spot the two boys somewhere. Brendon wouldn't be surprised if Spencer decided to leave this city, what did he really have to stick around for anyway? A fresh start for him and Ryan, a way for Brendon to not find them.



The boy arrives back to his place, Pete pulling up in the driveway behind him. Pete had probably been with him for about an hour and a half now. Patrick was getting out of work soon and even Pete would have to leave him. Pete gets out though and walks up behind Brendon, tossing an arm around his shoulder.



"You got anything to drink?" Pete asks, Brendon wants to believe that he means something like water, soda pop, but the way he said it, the way he's staring at Brendon. He knows that he means of the alcoholic variety.



"Thought you were clean?" Brendon questions, pushes his door open and slips away from Pete so he can enter the house.



"Helps take the edge off." Pete says, Brendon throws a supicious look at him. "And Patrick approves." He adds. Brendon digs out a beer for Pete, it's been a long while since anyone in the house had drank. Brendon finding other vices to fill his time.



"What are you going to do now Bren?" Pete asks, twists the top off the bottle and tosses it back on to the table top. Brendon gives a slight shrug. He tries to reverse his life in his mind, go back to exactly what he was doing with his life before Spencer, before Nate. But he's hard pressed to find a time in his life without Ryan there.



"Try to win my Patrick back?" It comes off sounding like a question. Brendon's fingers twitch and he wants to check his cell but it never rang once in his pocket. Pete smiles and tilts his beer in Brendon's direction. Almost like he's toasting. The younger boy sighs out raggedly as his thoughts refocus on Nate, more like the lack of Nate.



The next thing he knows Pete's arms are wrapped around him and he's being pulled into a bonecrushing hug. It's nice and simple, warm. It's just what Brendon needs and it's just like Pete to know that. They stay that way, Brendon lined up tight against Pete, the younger boy's chin almost able to rest atop Pete's head.



"Isn't Patrick getting out of work soon?" He doesn't want Pete to go, just doesn't want the older boy to get in trouble. Pete pulls back, stares into Brendon's eyes and the taller boy can feel the beer bottle pressing cold against his back as Pete hooks his hands over Brendon's shoulders.



"Patrick is patient." Pete points out and maybe the two of them are too close, closer than two people who aren't fucking anymore should be. Pete's kinda leaning in and a part of Brendon wants to let him, let them kiss if that's what Pete's intending. But he doesn't, turning his head at the very last second, Pete's warm lips connecting with his cheek.



Brendon can feel Pete's smile against his face. "I guess you really have moved on." The older man states and he slips away from Brendon, ruffling the boy's dark hair. Pete's grinning as he leans against the table and take a swig of beer.



Brendon nods, hands fidgiting with nothing for them to do. That's true. He and Pete can't go back and be those people again, they just can't. They've evolved, grown, and changed and it's like they've put everything else aside leaving only their friendship behind. They will always be something, always important, but never lovers, not again.



Pete finishes his beer, the two of them staring at each other the whole way through. Maybe seeing their past selves one last time. The way they had both been so young, the way their bodies felt together, the way that they always drug each other down one more notch on the shitty life ladder.



Pete grins and sets the empty beer down on the table. He glances at his watch and is still smiling when he looks back up. "Well," He starts, moving towards Brendon. "I'd better go get 'Trick." He states, pulling the younger boy in for another semi-long hug. Brendon hugs back, tight, wants to push all his feelings inside Pete and get the good back in return.



They break apart and Pete ruffles Brendon's hair again, lets his tanned hand skim down his cheek, cupping briefly, dropping down to his shoulder and giving a squeeze.



"I'm sorry I ever got you into this kind of life." He whispers, sad smile playing across his face. It wasn't really Pete, it was moreso Ryan, Joe, even Brendon himself. No one forced him to do anything and he tells Pete as much. The older boy nods and smiles. "Right, listen, if you need me. Anything at all, just wanna talk, whatever. Just call me alright?" Pete asks, slowly easing away from Brendon and their past.



Brendon nods, makes himself smile and watches Pete go.



He stands in the kitchen until he hears Andy's car rattle away.



Now that he's alone he doesn't know what to do with himself. If he goes back to the way he used to live it was all drugs and sex with Pete, ignoring Ryan, and more drugs. That just might have been his downfall.



Brendon sprawls out on the couch but not before slowly shutting the door to Ryan's room, closing off the memories. The couch smells like Spencer, just like it used to smell like Pete and before Pete...well, that smell wasn't so great.



His eyes slide close and his mind just feels much too tired to bother doing anything besides laying here.



Maybe Brendon thinks about when he was a little kid, maybe he thinks about his mother and how she was before her breakdown. His father and the stern, angry look the man always wore. Maybe he thinks about the times his mother took him to church and how she used to tell him to pray for the things he wanted. He never really did pray back then, it was more like wishes, selfish little things that he seriously doubted any higher power would ever bother to listen to.



None of his prayers/wishes ever came true back then.



So why start now?