7

Note: Yes, this veers away from show canon, but then, it did in the beginning before I even knew Patrick had a stepfather. So we have the asshole boyfriend instead, which is enough reason to seek out therapy. And people who still don't know who Sully is should go back and read the first chapter-every line please. Really, I appreciate the feedback, but I don't think the story is that difficult to follow, is it? This is about as straightforward as it gets. Show gets cancelled, fans get pissed off, and one of them decides to campaign about it (oops, that was a spoiler). The other story is Patrick's lousy home life, and his attempt to reach out to Rachel (you thought I forgot my favorite peripheral character? Not a chance. She is a little different here).

[Patrick]

My good mood evaporated when I saw the remains of my bike scattered across the front yard. Mrs. Laramie peeked through the hole in her bedroom shade and I could smell her disapproval from ten yards away. That was nothing compared to the red haze in front of my eyes as my anger roared into life.

I could almost see it unfold as I picked up the pieces of my Honda and stacked them near the garage.

That asshole Dick (overinflated dude with the gun rack and an IQ lower than Dubya's) ran over my bike with his monster truck.

He must have done it last night in a drunken rage after one of his 'turn it to 11' fights with my Mom. Nigel Tufnel has nothing on this mouth-breather.

He and my Mom had no idea that I knew cars from the inside out, and when I got done with his truck, it wouldn't be good for anything but the scrap heap.

I snuck into the house and managed to get in a shower before the hot water ran out. Even better, I found actual food in the fridge and stuffed it into my backpack before dialing Keith and begging for a ride.

I found Kat talking to one of her frenemies and was surprised when she dragged me into her sister's favorite trysting closet.

She started giving me the third degree when I asked to borrow her car, but there's no way I was letting Kat anywhere near this subject, so I pushed past her sullenly when she refused to loan her car to me.

After what happened overnight, I had to see my therapist, Roy. He's been keeping me sane for the past three years, and I had a free ride on the therapy bus thanks to some social program for underprivileged kids.

[Kat]

Some male with a sick sense of humor invented the whole Josie May concept. I felt ridiculous in this guise, and was about to blow my stack when I heard that annoying woman tapping on the window yet again.

Oh, crap, it was Patrick, looking way more pissed than I'd ever seen him.

My attempt to explain my way out of this fell flat, and ended with a key toss that nearly broke a nail (yeah, really!).

I followed him in my Volvo and convinced him to let me drive him by using the tried and true 'we don't have to talk' ploy.

When I offered to drive him home, I got that closed off, annoyed look that told me I was treading on dangerous ground.

Fine, I would settle for PHS if that was all he would give me.

Not being able to help myself, I threw out my Dad's favorite team and had the Padres tossed back at me.

OK, foul ball already.

"See? That's something I didn't know about you. Sharing is fun."

"Why do you care so much?" Patrick eyed me with suspicion as we crawled along behind an old man with a hat driving a Cadillac at a snail's pace.

"Because," was all I was ready to give him.

"Because what?" Wow, defensive much?

"I just care about you, OK?" There, it was out, and I couldn't take it back. "God, I'm sorry, I'll stop."

One look was all it took to floor me. He was staring back in wonder, like I was an oasis in the desert of his life. I returned my gaze to the old poop ahead and slammed on my brakes when he turned without warning. "Good idea," Patrick said with a sideways grin that melted my insides.

The timing was pitch perfect, and immediately relieved the tension. This called for some music to lighten the mood even more, so I switched on the radio and almost groaned when Give it Time flooded the car at top volume.

I reached over to lower it and was stopped by Patrick's fingers curling around mine. I looked down with my own fascination, and nearly collided with a moronic housewife jabbering on a cell phone. She flipped me the bird as she sailed off and I laughed at my own stupid state.

How was it that I turned into complete mush when it came to Patrick? It was like someone turned off my brain and imprinted Bianca's on top of it. We got to the high school, and just before Patrick got out, he leaned over and kissed my cheek. His warm breath fanned my face when he asked, "So, when do I get to meet Sully?"