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The Redemption of Peter Wentz (2/?)

As Pete perched at the apex of roof tiles, he felt a sting of penance. Screams echoed up the faces of buildings as he watched the scene before him. He couldn't help notice that he would naturally care less if it was some mugger or rapist, of course, it happens as often as rabbits breed. But this wasn't some urban-Chicago mugging. It was a feeding frenzy. If they were Punks, he'd be happy to break up the scene. But they were not the latter. These were quick, efficient Dandies.

How they fascinated him. How silently they would act, and the speed and intensity of their reactions and ferocities. The fact that he'd starved himself did not make things any easier, and he longed for the same satisfaction they took for themselves. A part of Pete wanted to stop them from ravaging the helpless college students, but he couldn't peel his eyes away. The darker side of Pete, however much he suppresses and exaggerates, wants, knows he should join them. It is a longing he wishes he could never express. Pete denies it even from himself at times. He feels that he belongs with them, among them, yet their ways go against every moral and ounce of humanity he has.

The moment ran in slow motion. He processed every movement and sound meticulously. It was in the close examination and detailed thought process running through his head like a play-by-play that he felt himself slipping ever deeper into the abyss.

He had lost track of who was who in the commotion between his own thoughts, and he refocused to meet eyes with Brendon's staring up at him from the bodies they'd thrown aside. He stared at Pete with intense fascination and wanting, almost daring him to come down from the roof. An electric jolt of adrenaline shot through Pete when the situation registered. He had not made a sound or motion. He only became lost within himself silently. But Brendon knew exactly where he was. He lifted an arm, beckoning Pete to come down with his index finger.

He turned away, expecting a route of escape from the shame he was committing. He knew several getaways, and he was now certain that this whole idea was fucking suicide, endangering his sanity and what family he had left. He couldn't just throw his friends into Death's lap like this. But he needed to, morals stretched and broken past their breaking point, he concluded that there was simply nothing else left to lose. Facing back to the alleyway, a shadow caught his attention in his left peripheral, and he had just enough time to identify it as Brendon’s lapdog Michael Carden. A dark scowl adorned his flawless face. With a flash of his lethal teeth, he smacked Pete off of the roof with great force before he had time to react.

The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, causing Pete to gasp as he freefalled from the five story high roof. His mind was fogged also. He hit the ground with a crack, smashing the asphalt beneath him causing a small crater of debris. Pete groaned loudly, grasping his side where Carden hat struck him. He failed to notice the group of Dandies closing in around him, cutting off any room for escape. He stood in slow motion as pain raced through his nerves like a raging forest fire. Yet Pete focused his eyes on the one person he was interested to find here, one he was hoping to find.

Pete stood his ground as Brendon circled him like a vulture, slowly licking the excess from the corners of his lips. Brendon's brown eyes shone like orbs, flashing in the dark as the shadows traveled across his smirking face. The moment was tense. The other Dandies were waiting with anticipation. Shockingly, all of them ignored the pool of blood reaching their shoes from their former victims.

Pete's eyes traveled with Brendon as he circled, trying anything to distract himself from the sweet stench of fresh blood. Brendon removed his Derby hat now, running the rim between his fingers whilst grinning to himself that he'd gotten Pete into such a corner, simply by fate.

"Tell me, Pete, you were turned, what...twenty six months ago, am I right?" he asked curiously, setting a formal mood to his taunting.

Pete growled, resonating in his dry throat. "You should know, Urie. You watched it happen."

"Yes, I remember." He laughed, prompting the others to do the same despite their ignorance of the memory. "You were in pain then. Oh well, look where you are now. Pain seems to have done you some justice." Pete's fists clenched in restraint. "Yet you are so weak as to seek us out of desperation. I'm surprised that you've held on this long." Brendon's pace halted as he examined Pete, sizing him up. "Well, I'm here now, mind as well say what you wanted to out loud and not pleading me with those godawful eyes." Pete had Brendon's full attention, yet he couldn't form a sentence out of the shame. "Oh, come now, Pete," Brendon moaned, stepping forward and circling him at less than arm's length. "Though we have eternity, you are definitely wasting my time."

Aromas hung in the air. The transparent mist traveled as a breeze picked it up and sent it down the boulevard. Pete shut his eyes tight and took in a merciful breath. Brendon snickered, running his nose up Pete's shoulder, into his hair in one lingering, taunting sweep. He exhaled heavily.

"Carden, go fetch something." he ordered. Michael Carden promptly left out onto the sidewalk as a swift current. "Oh, Peter," he moaned, "I smell your hunger. In all honesty, I pity you, going on this long without the one thing you really crave most."

Pete was slowly losing himself as the seconds ticked on, as the fantasies began, and his veins burned fire. He could see himself in Brendon's malicious eyes, dilated and calculating like his own. He winced at the human scents entering his consciousness. Oh, how badly Pete wanted to ravage them.

"Tell me, Peter, how did you degrade yourself to this level of desecration?" Brendon inquired.

Sirens blared far beyond them.

"Choice. I am not a soulless parasite like you." His voice was now a strained whisper, more animalistic than ever.

Brendon inched closer, his breath dancing on Pete's earlobe in a venomous tone, and a second, colder voice backing his own. It was vicious and definitely familiar, yet not his own that held the warmth Pete remembered. "Let me tell you something, Pete Wentz. I've been around far longer than even before the idea of your existence was even conjured, and do not think for one minute that I am soulless. I accept what I am, though at the expense of my humanity. Brendon has accepted the same, so it appears that you are really the only parasite, a dying one at that, living on a delusional notion that you still belong to a far weaker and flawed species. And for that, Peter Wentz, you disgust me. You are the one who is soulless by not living to your potential. I should've left you to die, rather the pathetic, naïve newborn that you were."

Pete had fallen pathetically to his knees under Brendon's strong influence. "Then what really is the difference, Brendon?"

Brendon knelt close to Pete's ear. Word after word, the other voice bled into nothing. "I don't wallow in my misery."

Pete wanted to smack him, throw him into a brick wall, anything to just take his anger out on Brendon, the Dandie. But he couldn't bring himself to. He knew he needed Brendon. On the long list of things he wouldn't admit publicly, that darker part of him longed for Brendon, the said aspect of him that was quickly consuming him. Pete tried to speak, but his mouth was void of any sound he tried to produce. Brendon leaned close in ample curiosity.
"I don't want to anymore...can't." Pete gasped. A darkness slowly crept into his consciousness, nearly swallowing him whole as much as he tried to fend it off.

In this brief moment, Pete had found what he was looking for: a meager weakness, a break in the defenses, a window between Brendon's split personalities. He took advantage of this spontaneous vulnerability.
"What are you saying, Pete?" he asked, with that familiar warmth in his voice.

"I'm so thirsty."

"Finally." Brendon grinned sympathetically toward his former friend. "Carden, bring that girl over here."


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 16th, 2010 05:31 am (UTC)
And Then...Where's the rest?!
so, you're totally going to continue this, right? because if you don't i might just die. i love it to pieces & it's been forever since a good FOB littleless... fic has come around. it's beautiful & please, please, PLEASE continue!
you've definitely got a fan. :)
Nov. 16th, 2010 05:46 am (UTC)
Re: And Then...Where's the rest?!
Thanks, it's good to know that I have one fan out there and I'm not writng into some dark void. I'll post some more for you. I'm trying to perfect the plot progression and writing style for the latest chapter,so forgive me if the updates are slow.
Nov. 16th, 2010 08:51 pm (UTC)
Re: And Then...Where's the rest?!
No dark void here. :)
Thank you for continuing! I was really bummed when I thought you'd left it off, seeing as how the last post was a month old, but creative genius takes time.
I'm looking forward to the continuation. Reading the newest chapter now.

Thanks again!
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )