Summary: Gender neutral reader’s POV, you are a cop at the police station in which Fall Out Boy is taken in YBC after Joe is killed and you get involved.
Warnings: Character death, violance
A/N: This is my first fanfiction I’ve ever written, so please be gentle with the criticism. Also, English is not my first language, so sorry for any grammatical errors. Enjoy! 🖤🖤 (GIF’s not mine)
‘James and Frank are at the scene with the murderer and two witnesses, all three of them have several injuries, ambulance will take care of it, please, make everything ready for the interrogation,’ my boss told me hurriedly not long after we got a phone call from a desperate man from an abandoned hospital near the police station where I work.
Not long after that, James and Frank arrived with the three guys and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I know them. Well, as much as anybody else who likes their music. It was Patrick, Pete, and Andy from Fall Out Boy. They’re missing a band member. Is it possible that…?
While Pete and Andy were carried away I had to stay with Patrick and my colleague, Frank and we tried to force that hook down which was attached to his left arm, right where his hand should had been. We can’t let him in to the cell with a potential weapon in - or in this case instead of - his hand now, can we? It hurt him; I could tell that, he was screaming in pain and hell, was it really attached to him, like it was burnt there or something. Damn, what have these guys been through?
Patrick was in his cell; literally the most innocent member of the band was accused with murder. What the hell is going on? My boss sent me to help James interrogating the other musicians and right when I was about to open the door, James burst out of the room, looking furious.
‘They’re a bunch of psychos, what they say makes no sense at all,’ he said to me, trying to control his anger, failing miserably.
‘I suppose you were the bad cop with all your usual shouting, so trust me, maybe they just need some nice words and a good cop,’ I smiled at him, patting his back and going into the room.
Andy and Pete looked at me and then back at the table right in front of them. I took a seat on the chair which now was too far from the table; probably James tossed it away during one of his not-so-uncommon outbursts.
‘Gentlemen,’ I started trying to stay professional since this whole thing was way too serious. I mean, a person just died, I can’t allow my fan-self to take over. ‘Please, tell me everything you saw, don’t let the fact that the accused is a friend of yours cloud your judgment.’
They just sat there in complete silence. I was patient, maybe they just needed time to think about a proper sentence. I waited one minute, then five, then ten more and they still haven’t said a word.
‘Gentlemen, please, we need as many details as possib-‘ I started calmly but I was cut off by a really angry Andy.
‘We just told every fucking detail to the other cop and he straight up called us crazy, what do you expect?’ In the heat of the moment the drummer even stood up and slammed his hands on the table which made me and Pete flinch.
‘Andy, please sit back down,’ Pete said. Somehow he remained calm. ‘He’s right though,’ he continued now looking at me. ‘We did tell everything and your colleague didn’t believe us, why would we make a fool out of ourselves again? Why would you believe us?’
‘Try me, I’m very open-minded,’ I told him with a small smile on my face which made him relax a little.
And they told me everything. How they had been kidnapped by a bunch of girls, how they drugged them, how they managed to escape and what happened in that hospital, everything. Honestly, when they got to the part where Patrick had yellow eyes and acted like he was possessed, I kind of doubted them, but looking in their eyes, I could tell they weren’t lying. I could feel it.
‘Okay, let’s make one thing clear,’ I said. ‘So when Patr- I mean Mr. Stump heard the music, he became this yellow-eyed demon thing, right?
‘Yes,’ Pete and Andy both nodded.
‘But… How could he just become a demon? Don’t you need to be possessed by one? And when it happens, doesn’t it take over your entire body all the time?’ I asked a bunch of questions in my confusion, I got to admit, I probably wasn’t acting so professional but I needed answers. ‘Or was Supernatural just a lie?’
Pete chuckled at my last question but Andy just stared at me which reminded me of the fact that I should be doing my job here.
‘Alright, thank you for the cooperation, one of my colleagues will be here in a few minutes to inform you of further procedures,’ I said now more skillfully then I did before.
I was about to leave the room when Andy asked me something. ‘Wait, you believe us?’
As I looked back at him I could see the surprise in his eyes. Once again, with a small smile on my lips which I tried to hide but didn’t really succeed I answered him. ‘Well, as I said, I’m very open-minded.’ And with that, I exited the room.
Did I believe them everything? I don’t know. They were drugged, could have hallucinated half of it, and not to mention the whole emotional trauma this case could cause to them. But how they described it, it sounded too real, not like something a drugged person would hallucinate and they didn’t disagree on any of the details. If what they saw wasn’t reality at least on a tiny part of the story they would have corrected each other. But it didn’t happen, they were perfectly in sync.
I let out a sigh while I was walking down a corridor which led me to the cell in which Patrick was. On my way there I grabbed a few paper towels; he probably needed it since he was still bleeding from a few cuts. When I was getting closer I heard him humming an unfamiliar tune, probably something from their upcoming album – if they’ll come up with another album after this.
When I got to him, he just looked at me and then back at his hand in his lap. I couldn’t even imagine how much pain he had gone through. I mean he lost one of his hands, one of his bandmates, he’s accused of murder…
‘Hey,’ I said in a soft tone and he looked back up at me. I was handing him the paper towels. ‘I figured you need them, you’re not in your best shape.’
‘Thanks:’ His voice only sounded like a little whisper and he gave me a weak smile when he took the towels and started wiping the blood off of his skin.
‘Do you need anything?’ I offered. ‘Water, maybe some food? I think I can get you a sandwich or something.’
‘Why are you so nice? You’re playing the good cop now?’ he asked, his words just shouted sarcasm and irony at me.
I let out a small laugh. ‘You met James then, I suppose. No, I’m not playing the good cop as you said, I am the good cop in general. At least I’m trying to treat even the accused ones how they deserve to be treated. I don’t have to be nice to you though, I can stop whenever I want,’ I replied with a stern look, getting a little too harsh at the end.
He was just looking at me, didn’t say a word, a flash of regret could be seen in his eyes. I pitied him honestly. He seemed such a nice guy throughout the media and I couldn’t imagine who and why would have done such horrible and unbelievable things to him and the band.
‘Look,’ I started, less sharply this time, ‘I’ve heard the whole story, and-‘
I was cut off by him saying ‘And now you think we’re crazy, amazing. Listen,’ he stood up and walked to the bars, now being closer to the spot where I was standing, ‘everything they told you is true. Everything. You got to believe us, I’m not a murderer, it wasn’t truly me, believe me. Please.’
He was so desperate, his bluish eyes were full of fear, despair, and pain. I could understand him, though. I couldn’t feel it but I definitely could understand.
‘I believe you,’ I said looking into his eyes.
‘What?’ he asked in confusion and disbelief. ‘Alright, I know I just asked you to believe me, but how can you believe me? Even I think I’m crazy’
I had to force back a smile. ‘I just do, okay? And calm down, we’re going to figure something out, we just have to-‘ I stopped in the middle of my sentence because I heard footsteps. Several footsteps, to be exact, probably three pairs, two made by… High heels? What the…?
My boss arrived with two women on his side. Wait a minute. The girls looked just like Andy and Pete described their kidnappers. Their long hair was in tight ponytails, all black clothing, leather jackets… My boss opened the door for Patrick’s cell and grabbed him, dragging him out of there, even though he protested and tried to stay with all his strength, screamed, shouted from the top of his lungs, begged me to help him. I tried, but one of the girls pinned me against the wall, holding a knife to my throat.
‘We don’t want to hurt you,’ she hissed. ‘We only need him.’ With her head she nodded towards Patrick, who was still dragged by my boss. Looking at them, I noticed two 100$ notes in my boss’s pocket. Son of a bitch.
When they turned at the end of the corridor, the girl let me go and ran after them. As soon as I could, I followed them and arrived just on time to see the women force Patrick into a car. Lucky me, I have good eyes and quick mind so I could see the plate of the car and memorized it.
I ran to the room where I left Pete and Andy only to find them gone with only a piece of paper on the table which had an address on it. I didn’t know if I should go to that address or run the plate of the car in which Patrick was taken. The address could have been a trap for the bass player and drummer, but it also could have been a safe place.
I decided to take chances and find out where the car must have gone. After a few minutes, thanks to the traffic cameras, I could find it. I got into my own car and took a deep breath before I started it. I hope I won’t find anyone murdered…
When I got to that older building which had the previously seen car parked in front of it, I hesitated. I know, it’s not so professional but I wasn’t doing the job for so long and it was way out of my league. I mean come on, brainwashing and demonic stuff? That’s not what a regular cop goes after. But I knew that somebody had to save those guys and since I couldn’t see anyone else who even considered helping, I felt like it was my duty.
I managed to get into the building which wasn’t so hard considering that no one was guarding it. The tough part was not getting caught inside. I went by a room in which at least a dozen of girls were destroying instruments rhythmically slamming their hammers at them. Fortunately no one saw me. They all wore similar clothes as the women at the station and they had the same hairstyle.
At the end of the corridor there was a locked door and I could have sworn that I heard a scream along with other noises from inside. So with a hairpin I picked the lock and slowly opened the door, careful not to make any noise in case some of the girls are in there. But no, it was only Patrick, tied to a chair, sitting calmly and staring at a brick wall with weird videos and pictures projected on it.
I ran up to him and immediately tried to free his hand from the grip of the rope only to hear him growl at me. I looked up at his face and looked into his eyes and I couldn’t believe what I saw. They were yellow. So everything was true. Every crazy detail I was told, all of it were true. Not that I didn’t believe them but knowing about it and seeing it are two completely different things.
After I recovered from the mini-shock I just had, I realized that if I let Patrick out in this state, he would kill me. So I tried the only rational thing which came in my mind. I shut down the projector and looked deeply in the singer’s eyes. ‘Patrick,’ I started softly but desperately knowing that any of the girls could come in any moment, ‘please, you need to listen to me. It’s not you, Patrick. You have to fight this, alright?’ He just stared at me, I wasn’t even sure that he understood anything. I continued anyway, this time little more hurriedly, probably because of the fear which started to take over me. ‘Come on Patrick, you’re not like this. You’re a little ball of sunshine, you polite everyone to death, even your haters. You need to turn back, your bandmates need you, your fans need you, everyone needs you, the real you.’
At the end of my mini-speech his eyes turned back to that unique shade of blue he had and it looked like he was himself again. ‘Good cop?’ he asked weakly, looking at me, blinking a few times like he wanted to make sure what he saw was real and I chuckled hearing my ‘name’. I could see that he was confused though, he probably didn’t even know where he was.
‘Yes, it’s me, I’m gonna get you out of here,’ I said reassuringly with my lips forming a huge grin and started to free his hands again. Right when his right hand escaped my smile fell because the door swung open and a bunch of women ran into the room. Three of them dragged me away from Patrick while both of us were shouting and screaming, desperately trying to escape. I tried to free myself but their grip was too strong and tight and by kicking one of them, I only made them angry and they held down my legs as well.
They restarted the projector and Patrick’s eyes turned yellow once again. For my surprise they didn’t held him captive anymore, they let him go but he didn’t move until one of them told him to follow her and he obeyed without any questions.
Damn it. I tried to escape once again and only earned a pretty strong punch in the face leaving my mouth bleeding. They tossed me to the ground, turned me so I lay on my back and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. They kicked me once more which made me groan and then they exited the room.
I brought my hand down to my stomach only to feel the sharp pain again when I touched it. And there was another thing that concerned me. A warm, sticky liquid. Blood. I needed a few moments to realize that I’ve been stabbed. Well, that’s not how I imagined my day.
I was thinking about practically everything. How I couldn’t save my favorite band, how probably Andy and Pete were dead by that time, how nobody was ever going to find me, how I would probably end up in a trashcan or in the backyard of someone’s house, so yeah, pretty optimistic thoughts. I couldn’t even call anyone given that those women took and smashed my phone.
I was accepting my death, feeling that I was losing more and more blood as time went by when the door unexpectedly opened again. I didn’t even bother to look there just after I heard a small ‘oh God’ which was followed by rapid footsteps. It was Andy.
‘Pete, they’re still alive’ he shouted to the bassist and kneeled down next to me, my blood on the floor instantly soaking the fabric of his jeans. He tried to cover my wound, putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding which made me moan in pain. It hurt like hell, but they were trying to make it easier for me by telling me stuff like ‘everything is going to be okay’ and ‘we’re here to help’ and so on, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t believe it, I knew I was going to die, there was no way they could get me out in time.
‘Bullshit,’ I said and regretted it right at that moment because it sent a wave of pain through my entire body and made me cough up blood. Now that wasn’t a good sign.
‘Hey, easy on there,’ Pete said worriedly. It kind of surprised me that he was worried about me since we didn’t even know each other but still, it made me smile weakly.
‘Guys, there’s no way I’m gonna make it so listen,’ I started seriously but had to stop because I had to cough again. ‘They took Patrick, I guess to their leader who I think is upstairs so go, leave me, you can’t save me, save him and yourselves.’
They just looked at me, not moving a single muscle and I felt my eyelids getting heavier and I knew what was coming. I managed to whisper a last weak ‘Please’ right before the pain stopped and I wasn’t suffering anymore. I closed my eyes one last time. I was still conscious when I heard one of them – I couldn’t identify the voices anymore – ask ‘What was their name?’ and the other one just answered with a weak ‘I don’t know’. This is the last thing I remember from before I let the numb darkness take over me, and I didn’t regret anything I did that day.
‘So yeah, that’s my story I guess,’ I told to the man sitting in front of me with his big curly hair, wearing all white clothing. As a matter of fact, everything around us was white, even I wore white which I wouldn’t do normally. Who thought I was going to go to Heaven and meet Joe there. That’s right, the man in front of me was the lead guitarist of Fall Out Boy.
‘That’s awesome,’ Joe grinned. ‘I mean, not the fact that you died, that sucks, but I always wondered what it’s like to be a cop,’ he explained quickly which made me laugh.
‘Yeah, well, I think not as great as you thought,’ I said kind of getting sad because that’s not how I imagined everything. I know it’s cliché, but I was young and had my whole life ahead of me. I suppose not anymore.
‘At least you came to Heaven. Don’t get me wrong, Hell is cool as well, but-‘ he was cut off by me shouting ‘Wait, what???’ in complete disbelief which just made him chuckle.
‘I guess it’s my turn to tell my story, isn’t it?’ he asked with once again a huge grin and it just put a smile on my lips as well.
A/N: That’s it, I hope you all enjoyed, have a nice day and take care!🖤🖤
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