A Life Alone

Part 2

By Melanie

 

 

Spencer is waiting at the hotel when they arrive. Sitting on the edge of a chair, hands on his knees, staring intently at the automatic door.

 

Ryan sees him as soon as they walk in, he stops and only Pete’s hand against his back keeps him from turning around and walking right back out again.

 

Spencer is pissed, his face is stony and his eyes are angry and Ryan has never dealt well with a mad Spencer. Typically he agrees to do whatever he needs to in order to make Spencer’s face not look like that.

 

He wonders where Brendon and Jon are, if Spencer has hidden them out of a view somewhere, and if they’ll leap out at him at any moment looking just as angry.

 

Spencer stands as Pete’s hand directs Ryan in his direction. His feet are moving of their own volition, if he had any control over them they’d be walking in the opposite direction.

 

Ryan has no clue what expression is on his face, but he figures that it must be some form of terror, because Spencer’s face softens slightly and when he’s within a few steps Spencer walks forward to meet them and grabs onto him.

 

Pulling him into hug and Ryan doesn’t know what to do, how to respond. It takes him a few seconds before he returns it.

 

Spencer holding on tight, Pete’s hand a steadying presence against his back and Ryan lays his head on Spencer’s shoulder and breathes.

 

He wants to go home.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Spencer doesn’t let him go, he keeps one hand on him at all times, like he’s afraid if he’s not touching him that Ryan will disappear into a puff of smoke.

 

“I told you they were worried about you,” Pete whispers in his ear, then goes to check them in.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Pete gets them one room, with one bed. Ryan would argue but he really doesn’t have the energy at this point.

 

“It’s all they had,” he says and Ryan knows he’s lying.

 

Spencer’s eyes narrow slightly when he realizes what Pete has done. He shoots a look at Ryan that he can’t decipher and Ryan wonders when Spencer became someone that he couldn’t read.

 

He doesn’t think that it’s fair that they’re forcing him to deal with Pete (who is acting like they are something they aren’t anymore) and Spencer (who is both worried and angry and can’t seem to settle on one emotion at a time) at the same time.

 

Ryan longs for the peace and solitude of his cottage.

 

******************************************************************************

 

They walk through the door and Pete lets Hemmy out of his carrier as Spencer closes the door behind them.

 

Ryan stands in the middle of the room and stares at the floor.

 

He thought he’d have time to figure out how he was going to deal with Spencer and Brendon and Jon. What he was going to say to them, how he was going to convince them that he was fine with the break-up.

 

He thinks he finally has the ‘why, why, why’s’ under control.

 

He wonders if Pete had called Spencer to meet them, Pete had said that he could make the call himself, but maybe Pete hadn’t trusted him to actually do so.

 

“You said you were getting in today, there’s only one hotel you stay at when you’re in the city,” Spencer is saying and Ryan thinks he maybe missed Pete asking a question because Spencer sounds defensive. “I figured if I waited long enough you’d show up.”

 

“I was going to call,” Ryan says quietly, he’s still staring at the floor. It’s a nice off-white carpet; he thinks this color would look very nice in his living room. Right now there is a red/beige/green monstrosity in there. He hasn’t gotten around to replacing it, but when he gets home, he decides, that is his first project.

 

“Well you also said that you’d come back to Chicago when you were done in Vegas and LA, so sue me if I didn’t want to wait and see if you’d actually contact us when you got here,” Spencer mutters pissily.

 

Ryan doesn’t look up at him, he doesn’t know what to say. There is silence and it isn’t the comfortable silence that he and Pete used to fall into at the cottage.

 

This is an uncomfortable silence and he knows that each one of them is waiting for one of the others to say something.

 

Pete clears his throat and Ryan looks, sideways, over at him.

 

“I’m going to go wash my hands,” he touches Ryan’s back gently when he passes by, the door closes and Ryan and Spencer are alone in the room.

 

“Ryan…” Spencer starts and stops, Ryan knows that if he looks up Spencer will be dragging a hand through his hair in agitation.

 

“It’s okay, I’m… I understand, its okay,” Ryan says softly.

 

He doesn’t, not really.

 

And its not, but the decision has already been made so it’s not like he has a choice in the matter.

 

He can’t read Spencer any more, maybe Spencer can’t read him either, so it’s possible that Spencer won’t realize that he’s lying about it being okay.

 

Spencer sighs and he feels hands on his face, tilting his head up so he’s forced to meet Spencer’s eyes head on.

 

Spencer looks sad.

 

“Maybe you can explain it to me then, because I don’t understand.”

 

“The break,” Ryan explains, he doesn’t want to be looking at Spencer when he says the words, he doesn’t think that he can be strong about this if Spencer is staring at him. “I understand.”

 

“Ryan,” Spencer shakes his head, he looks confused.

 

“I won’t fight the break-up, I told Pete I wouldn’t. So, it’s…” he takes a deep breath and doesn’t bite his lip or fidget or look away, Spencer had told him in the past that those were all tells for when he was lying or about to lie. “It’s okay.”

 

Spencer shakes his head, his face has dissolved into an expression that Ryan doesn’t know, it looks equal parts fear and something else. Ryan doesn’t know what Spencer is afraid of; Ryan has said that it was okay, that they didn’t have to hide what the break was really leading into from him anymore.

 

“We’re not breaking up,” Spencer says firmly, his hands are gripping Ryan’s face, forcing eye contact still and he wonders if he will have bruises when Spencer finally lets him go.

 

“Spence…”

 

“We’re not breaking up, we’re not breaking up. I don’t know who told you that, but we’re not,” Spencer is saying it over and over again, like he thinks that if says it often enough Ryan will believe him.

 

He wants to, he really does. But the decisions made for him, the secrets they kept from him… he doesn’t know if he can.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Spencer has left, he has said that he will return with Brendon and Jon in tow later that day and Ryan is taking the time to regroup.

 

He knows that Spencer knows that he doesn’t believe him.

 

“Where’s your sidekick?” Pete asks, he’s lounging on the bed and he’s had his glued to his ear for what seems like hours. Ryan thinks that the rest of Fall Out Boy will be in town at some point, Pete had said something about a concert when he was on the phone.

 

Patrick has a very loud voice when he wants to and Pete had gotten very defensive over the implication that he’d miss a show.

 

“It’s in a box in my hallway closet,” Ryan says. He doesn’t miss it; he didn’t think he’d ever get to the point where he wasn’t reaching for it every day, but it seems he has.

 

He has no one to call, no one to text. Though he should, maybe, call Mark and let him know that he got out of town okay and when to expect him to return.

 

Ryan hopes soon.

 

Pete hmms at him. “You probably have about fifty thousand voice mails waiting.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that my voice mail can’t hold that many messages,” Ryan says, then asks, “How many of them are from you?”

 

“About forty-nine thousand five hundred or so,” Ryan wants to smile, he would have thought that all the voice mails would be from Pete. That had been their main form of communication for years.

 

Phone calls and text messages and e-mails.

 

This has been the longest time they’ve spent together in one room or place since Pete had ended them.

 

Pete is staring at him and Ryan shifts on the chair, he has his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, chin settled in the V created by them.

 

He’s tired and just wants to go to sleep, but Pete has already claimed the bed and is sprawling across it. Ryan wonders if he’s just supposed to accept the fact that he and Pete will be sharing a bed or if Pete has secret plans to have Spencer and Brendon and Jon take him home with them.

 

“Come cuddle with me Ryan Ross,” Pete says, it’s an order and it only takes Ryan a minute (where he blinks at Pete who just stares back at him with an arched brow) to get up and walk the few steps to the bed.

 

He doesn’t know what Pete wants from him, doesn’t know why Pete is staying with him when he should be making tracks back to Los Angeles and Ashlee and leaving him in the others hands.

 

He stands at the end of the bed and wonders what he’s doing; this is in no way intelligent, this was how he got burned by Pete in the first place.

 

Pete pats the bed and looks at him expectantly; Ryan sighs, then climbs onto it next to him, settling on his back and staring at the ceiling.

 

Pete tugs him closer, rolling him onto his side so Ryan is facing him. Hand against his hip, a leg thrown over his, Ryan relaxes slightly and Pete moves so that their foreheads are touching.

 

Ryan’s eyes close, he’s so very tired suddenly.

 

“I’m tired,” he murmurs. Pete hums at him and rolls onto his back, taking Ryan with him; he ends up sprawled half across Pete’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. It’s comfortable and familiar and won’t last; the good things that he gets don’t ever seem to.

 

He still has to bite his lip to keep from begging Pete to never leave him again. It’s a protective measure, Pete has been with Ashlee long enough that Ryan doesn’t see them parting ways any time soon and he won’t hand Pete weapons that can be wielded against him.

 

Besides, being alone is not so horrible.

 

In the few short weeks that he’d managed it, he’d accomplished more then he had in months.

 

Pete’s lips brush his forehead and Ryan shivers, reminds himself that Pete is not his anymore, that he can’t tilt his head and press kisses to Pete’s lips until he returns them. Pete is only offering comfort and companionship until Ryan can accept it from the guys… or is allowed to go home, alone.

 

“Go to sleep Ryan,” he murmurs against Ryan’s skin. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

He’s alone and it’s dark when he finally opens his eyes. His fingers are twitching and words are clamoring to get out. His laptop is in the living room and Ryan thinks that, if Pete doesn’t intrude or ask questions, he might be able to get a few chapters done.

 

He can’t hear Pete moving around and he’s not clinging to the edge of the bed so Ryan knows that he’s not in the bedroom any longer.

 

So much for his promise that he’d be there when Ryan woke up.

 

“Feel better?”

 

Ryan sits up, heart racing. His eyes search the room and he sees Jon sitting in the chair that he’d been huddled in earlier, before Pete had commanded him to cuddle with him on the bed and he’d fallen asleep.

 

He looks tired and relieved and Cassie has done what Ryan had thought was going to be an impossibility; she has gotten a razor near Jon’s face and wielded scissors on his hair, because he looks trimmed and neat, he in no way resembles the homeless person that he’d been when Ryan had left.

 

“Jon,” Ryan says, he presses a hand to his chest. “Where’s…”

 

“Pete took Spencer and Brendon downstairs so that the raised voices wouldn’t wake you up,” Jon says, he stands and walks over to the bed, sitting down next to Ryan. There are a few inches between them, months ago there wouldn’t have been any space and Brendon would have flung himself across their laps while Spencer fell on the floor laughing.

 

“Why is Pete yelling at Spencer and Brendon?” Ryan’s hands twist together in his lap and he stares at them as if they are fascinating.

 

“It’s more like Spencer and Brendon are yelling at Pete,” Jon sighs, then lays a hand over Ryan’s hands, stilling their restless movements.

 

Ryan looks over at him, puzzled.

 

“They think Pete is taking advantage of the situation and you.”

 

Ryan shakes his head. “He’s not.” That’s the one thing he knows for sure, that Pete is not taking advantage. Ryan knows taking advantage, the second time that they’d ever met Pete had taken advantage of the fact that Ryan had heart-shaped eyes and a crush the size of the world.

 

“They want you to come stay with them, they’re renting a little two bedroom, the spare has been set aside as your room since they got it,” Jon is saying.

 

“I would rather stay here,” Ryan says softly but firmly.

 

He won’t stay with Spencer and Brendon, if he did he’d be forced to watch them interact and be together and while he thinks he’s doing okay with the concept of the two of them being together… he doesn’t think he’s really ready for the reality of them being together.

 

Being in their space and hearing them and seeing them… he’d be forced to see the reality, that they want each other and no one wants him and no, he’s not ready for that.

 

“You’re staying in a hotel room, with one bed, with Pete Wentz,” Jon says. He’s looking at Ryan like he wants to be saying something else.

 

Like calling him three kinds of a fool and reminding him that Pete had broken his heart and maybe calling him a hypocrite.

 

Ryan wants to remind him that Pete is with Ashlee and Ryan won’t ever be the other ‘woman’.

 

“If he gets too handsy I can sleep in the tub,” Ryan says, “Put a blanket and a pillow in it and they’re not actually all that uncomfortable.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Pete, Spencer and Brendon return after Ryan and Jon have given up waiting on them and ordered room service.

 

They all look subdued, even Brendon and Ryan and Jon exchange a look.

 

Ryan nibbles on the end of a french fry and watches them all with interested eyes.

 

Pete is kneeling besides his chair to pet Hemmy, Hemmy has stopped begging with his large, round eyes for handouts from Ryan’s plate and is instead soaking up the attention Pete is lavishing on him.

 

Spencer is standing in the middle of the room looking frustrated and Brendon has flung himself down on the sofa and no one is saying a word but Pete, and he’s telling Hemmy that ‘he’s such a good boy’ so Ryan isn’t sure that counts.

 

A phone rings and everyone but Ryan reaches for their sidekicks, Ryan leans back in his chair and picks up his water, taking a sip.

 

Pete frowns at his phone, “I’ll take it in the other room,” he says. He shuts the door behind him and Brendon looks like he wants to go press his ear to the door and eavesdrop.

 

He doesn’t, he and Spencer exchange a look instead and Ryan puts his water glass down and picks up another french fry to nibble on.

 

He’s not really hungry, but Jon had insisted that he needed to eat something.

 

“We were thinking…” Brendon starts. “That you could come stay with Spencer and me.”

 

“I think I’d rather stay here,” Ryan says, just as softly and just as firmly as he’d told Jon.

 

He knows that Brendon and Spencer are together, he’s happy for them because of it. He is.

 

If he tells himself that often enough he’s pretty sure he’ll believe it eventually.

 

He’s happy for them, so he doesn’t see why he needs to have a front row seat to their relationship; he wants to tell them that it’s a cruel punishment to be forced to see the things that he can’t have any longer, but he’s managed to keep this particular secret so well that neither one of them have any clue that he maybe, possibly, had a crush on Brendon at one point.

 

“I think that’s a bad idea,” Spencer says. Jon hums an agreement and Brendon is shaking his head so fiercely that Ryan is afraid that it might fall off if he doesn’t stop.

 

“Why?” he asks.  And he honestly has no clue why everyone is so dead set against him staying here with Pete, even Patrick, when Pete had called him earlier, had proclaimed loudly enough that Ryan could hear him, that Pete was a moron and an idiot and told him that he was just asking for trouble.

 

Pete is being a bit more attentive to him then usual, yeah, but not enough that Ryan thought it warranted this amount of disagreement from everyone.

 

If Pete really wanted Ryan in his bed, he could have him there, naked and willing in under thirty seconds. He’d done it before and Ryan had gone readily enough, it was only later, when Pete had dismissed him and gone back to whomever his girl of the week was… well that was when Ryan would wonder what the hell had happened and why Pete Wentz still had that kind of power over him and vow to not do that again.

 

The three exchange looks, they have a whole silent conversation that doesn’t include Ryan and there’s a knot in his throat that is reminding him that they don’t need him anymore. They function as a group and he isn’t sure they even realize that they aren’t including him.

 

He stares at his plate and pushes his fries around with a finger.

 

He’s suddenly tired again, even though he’s slept a good portion of the day away with Pete next to him and he wants to kick Pete and his mysterious phone call out of the bedroom so he can curl up in bed and remind himself that he doesn’t mind being alone and look how much writing he’s gotten done without the interruptions of having other people around.

 

“Pete, maybe, has ulterior motives for having you guys confined to one room, with one bed,” Spencer states.

 

Ryan laughs harshly and doesn’t look up. He doesn’t know if the concern that he might or might not see there will be genuine, if he looks up he might see it and if he sees it he might be able to tell that they just don’t care and are trying to sound like they do.

 

“I can take care of myself,” he says, he doesn’t know what he sounds like, he thinks he sounds normal, confident, but when he looks up Brendon is wincing and Spencer is frowning.

 

“We’re not saying you can’t,” Jon says. “It’s just…”

 

“Besides you guys should know me well enough to know that I won’t be that ‘other guy’, Pete is happy and I’m happy for him and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Ashlee.”

 

“Pete and Ashlee have broken up,” Brendon says, his tone is screaming that this is information that Ryan should already know. “It’s been all over the papers, we heard about it after the fact, but Patrick says they got into some huge screaming match backstage at one of their shows when Pete said that he was going to get you and drag you home.”

 

Ryan blinks at him.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Ryan has to promise four times to meet them in the hotel restaurant for breakfast before they’ll leave.

 

Pete comes out of the bedroom when the door shuts, glaring at his phone.

 

“I’m not going to be rebound boy,” Ryan says. He picks a fry off his plate, then puts it back down, they’re ice cold and he’s not hungry anyway. He just needs something to do with his hands.

 

“They told you then.”

 

“That you and Ashlee had a public screaming match and broke up? Yeah,” he makes a face. “If you go back to L.A. you could probably salvage it.”

 

“She threw things at me and called you… well a lot of vicious names that really don’t matter and certainly aren’t true. So maybe I don’t want to,” he sits down on the couch, sets his sidekick on the end table and helps Hemmy climb up onto the couch and into his lap.

 

Ryan laughs, he doesn’t think that it sounds bitter but he can’t be sure. “I’m still a guy, Pete, all those things you said when you told me that we couldn’t see each other ‘that way’ anymore? They’re all still true. I’m still male and in the public eye and so are you. You still want to have a successful band and not have Patrick throw things at you for making stupid decisions.”

 

“Maybe I’ve come to the realization that we can have whatever we want and screw what everyone else thinks.”

 

He walks over to the couch and leans down to kiss the top of Pete’s head, it’s a risky move but he manages to draw back before Pete can grab him and pull him down into his lap.

 

“Like I said, I won’t be rebound boy. Write a couple of songs about it, go bang a few groupies at your next concert,” Ryan straightens, drags a hand through his hair. “Maybe try being alone for a while, it’s actually not all that bad.”

 

“Ryan…”

 

“I’m going to bed; I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

 

Ryan walks out of the living room, closes the door to the bedroom and changes for bed.

 

Pete doesn’t come in; Ryan doesn’t allow himself to think about the fact that he’s disappointed in that.

 

******************************************************************************

 

They sit, the four of them, around a table, in a closed off, private room and Ryan has already mapped out the two accessible exits and a window that can be used as one if he gets desperate enough.

 

Ryan wonders if they got the circular table so that everyone could sit an equal distance apart and not look like they were taking sides or ganging up on him.

 

Jon is staring at his menu as if it might offer him the secrets to eternal life and happiness.

 

Brendon and Spencer are taking turns staring at him, then having silent conversations, where they blink at each other and their lips twitch but no sound is made.

 

Ryan has already decided what he’s having, and is slouching, slightly in his chair, staring at a space on the wall directly between Spencer and Brendon’s shoulders.

 

He hopes that it looks as if he’s looking at them, but means that he doesn’t actually have to make eye contact with them.

 

Brendon clears his throat and Jon puts the menu down.

 

“Have you been doing any writing?” Brendon asks.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Anything that we can see?” Spencer asks.

 

“No.”

 

Spencer looks frustrated at the monosyllable answers; Brendon looks as if he wants to throw things. Only Jon looks like he isn’t three seconds from hitting something, but Jon normally looks calm and collected even when he wants to throttle Brendon for singing Disney songs for hours on end.

 

He doesn’t know what they want from him, they aren’t a band anymore (even if they haven’t said the words to him yet), why would he share his words with people that aren’t interested in singing them or playing the music for them?

 

“Ryan…” Jon starts.

 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Ryan says. His voice doesn’t tremble or shake, he doesn’t sound like he’s going to have a breakdown at the table. He’s proud of himself.

 

“I told Spencer that it was okay,” Ryan says. “I don’t know what else you want from me.”

 

Spencer shakes his head and Jon just hangs his, he’d probably be banging it on the table if there wasn’t a plate and his coffee cup in the way.

 

“Maybe we want you to realize that we’re not breaking up, that we have, in no way, shape or form, indicated that we were even planning to think up breaking up,” Brendon states firmly, quietly, his eyes locked on Ryan’s.

 

Ryan stares at him.

 

“You decided to take a break,” Ryan says slowly.

 

“Yes, we know that.”

 

“You decided to take a break, you never asked for my input on that matter, it was never discussed with me prior to the three of you telling me that we were taking a break,” Ryan stands up slowly. He’s not hungry, not anymore.

 

“Ryan,” Spencer stands, is around the table and gripping his arms tightly before he has time to take a step back.

 

“You cut me out of my band, you didn’t…” he shakes his head, he can’t tell them that they made him feel like an outsider, that they made him feel like he was going to be left all alone with no friends and no band and nothing.

 

He won’t give them that type of power over him, even though they already have it and all they have to do is look at him to see it.

 

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” Ryan says, he doesn’t try to pull away, even though he wants to. He wants to go back to the room and hide from Pete and whatever his intentions are and count down the days until he can go home.

 

Spencer has a strong grip, a drummers grip, unless Spencer lets go of him he knows he won’t break free of it. If he can just get them to tell him what they want, then Spencer will let him go, “Just tell me what you want from me.”

 

“We want you to believe that we’re not breaking up, because we’re not. And if we ever make that decision we want you to believe that we’ll sit down, the four of us, and we’ll make it together, as a group,” Spencer says, he’s gripping Ryan’s arms tight, staring at him intently with desperate eyes.

 

Like this is the most important thing that he has to say, like Ryan believing him when he says it is the most important thing to him.

 

Ryan stares at him… and hopes that he’s not a fool.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Pete is sitting on the couch watching the door when Ryan walks back through it. He feels like he’s gone through a war, like he’s been through hell and back and he hopes that they’re not trying to make him an idiot for trusting their words.

 

He wants to believe the words (he puts a lot of faith in words, they’re the way that he communicates almost all of the emotions that he can’t display otherwise), hopes that he can trust that they didn’t mean to cut him off (they sound sincere enough, he wants to believe them), because like Pete has said…

 

These are his brothers, his best friends.

 

He doesn’t want to think that family could have that careless a disregard for one of their members. He pointedly doesn’t think about his father.

 

That’s done, after all, finished. The words are out and his father is buried and there’s no use in beating a dead horse.

 

“Okay?” Pete asks, he’s watching him carefully as Ryan closes the door. He sits on the opposite end of the couch, a distance of a whole person between them. Ryan thinks that person resembles Ashlee or maybe Patrick.

 

Somebody disapproving, because the space remains, even though Pete is staring at him like he’d like nothing more then to drag him that distance of a person closer.

 

“I think that maybe you were right,” Ryan says calmly. Pete snorts.

 

“On what subject? The one about you jumping to conclusions and thinking your band was going to break up without telling you?”

 

Ryan glares at him.

 

“Yes.”

 

“So… what’s the plan Ryan Ross?”

 

“The plan,” Ryan repeats. “I’m staying for the wedding, I have fittings tomorrow, Jon will pick me up for them first thing in the morning. I’m having dinner with him and Cassie,” he glances over at Pete, whose face is now impassive.

 

Ryan has no clue what he’s thinking.

 

“You are invited, provided that you can keep your hands to yourself for the entire evening. Jon has reserved the right to shoot you if you attempt to sully my virtue,” Pete snorts another laugh and covers his mouth with his hand when Ryan glares at him again.

 

“When the wedding is over we’ll still be on break and I’m going to be allowed to go home.”

 

“By home, I’m thinking they think you’re going to Vegas or L.A. and in actuality you’re going back to your cottage in the middle of the ass-end of nowhere.”

 

“That was really not clarified, and I really wish you would stop saying that,” Ryan sighs.

 

“I think you underestimate your guys, they’re not letting you out of their sight for a really long time. You might think that you’re going to your cottage in the…” Pete cuts off when Ryan glares again, “boondocks alone, I think you should really get moving on getting a bed in the spare bedroom.”

 

“Pete…”

 

“I just think four people in your bed is going to be a tight squeeze, there’s barely enough room for the two of us,” Pete leers and Ryan sighs. Because just like that the space of that invisible disapproving person vanishes and Pete slides across the couch towards him, grabby hands pulling him into a cuddle on the couch and he doesn’t have the energy to shove Pete off.

 

Not after dealing with Spencer and Brendon and Jon all morning.

 

“Rebound boy,” Ryan reminds him, voice muffled by Pete’s shoulder. He’ll have to have stern talk with his arms later, because they’re locked around Pete’s body.

 

Pete grips him tighter. “You’re not rebound boy, not by a long shot,” he whispers in Ryan’s ear.

 

Ryan hopes these words are something else he can believe in, and not something else that will come back and bite him in the ass later.

 

He closes his eyes and buries his head in Pete’s neck and forcefully relaxes every tense muscle in his body.

 

And lets Pete hold him tight and together.