This Is Me and You Until We've Got Nothing Left

Just after the holidays, Pete was set to move to LA for a few months to record the new album. During the time he was home, he buried himself in writing and pills.

Once again, Pete was unraveling and I tried not to stress about it; I couldn't go through losing another baby.

I had practiced breathing and stress relieving techniques I had learned from my Lamaze classes. Pete had come with me, but was so out of it, he might as well not have been there. I didn't want to make him stay home, because I did want him there, so whatever he wanted to do to be with me, I let him. I didn't want to fight with him, I just let it all fall off my back. I tried not to care that he was getting stone just to make it through.

Mid-January, I had helped him pack up his suitcases with fresh clothes and prepared to go to another shoot that was in New York. I wasn't showing too much, but it was obvious that I was pregnant; I was now 4 and a half months. Pete's eyes were heavy, hands lazily folding t-shirts and shoving his underwear in the suitcase. I fussed and growled playfully, hoping to make him more relaxed. I pushed him to sit on the bed and he rubbed his mouth; he looked like he was in another world.

I bit at my lip, "How many have you taken?"

He shrugged, "Dunno...usual. I gotta go fill my script."

"I think you've had enough." I told him as I continued to fold.

"You don't know what you're talkin' about." He mumbled.

I bit my tongue; I always had to. I was always ready to spit out some remark that would've gotten us into a deep fight. I held it in and kept myself busy with folding the clothes.

"I gotta go," he stood, feeling his pockets, "Where're my keys?" His voice slurred.

"You're not driving," I told him, "I hid the keys."

"Navy," he groaned, "Gimme the keys."

"No. You're not gonna drive, I told you."

"How'm I gonna get my pills?"

"I'll drive you, I've gotta get my vitamins."

He sighed and sat back down, "Thanks."

I zipped up his suitcase and set it on the floor, "I've gotta get my stuff ready, then we can go."

Pete grabbed my arm before I could move and pulled me onto his lap. I blinked, "What?"

"I'm gonna miss you."

Though he was higher than heaven, I knew he meant it.

"I'll miss you too."

He kissed me, "I'll be gone for a long time...keep me updated with the baby?"

"You know I will." I told him reassuringly.

He smiled lazily, that dopey grin of his. I smiled back and kissed him, leading down to his neck; he stiffened and slightly pushed me back. I frowned now, "What?"

"We can't."

"Why not?"

His half-lidded eyes blinked once, "The meds...can't get it up."

I sighed and climbed off him, "Still." I stated.

"Sorry." He replied disappointedly.

"It's okay. Are you going to come with me to the pharmacy?"

"Yeah."


Pete was near passing out by the time Andy came and picked him up. I had to help take his two suitcases to the van, and then help Pete inside. He crashed in the backseat, mumbling incoherently.

I forced a smile when he finally looked at me; "I love you." I told him.

He smiled shortly, "I love you."

I leaned up, kissed his forehead and pet his hair back; "Please call me when you get settled."

He nodded lazily, "I will. Be safe."

I ran my hand once more through his hair, "You too."

Andy shut the door and then turned to me, "Don't worry, I'll try and make sure he's okay."

"Hide the pills from him, please. I don't want to get some phone call that he's overdosed."

The color drained from Andy's face, "Okay, Naomi."

I hugged Andy, holding in tears, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Take care of Pete Jr., alright?" He smiled now.

I laughed softly and nodded.

I stood back as I watched the boys pile in the van and then drive off. I held my breath, mentally praying that Pete would be okay. My eyes kept watch until the van turned a corner and disappeared from my sight.


No one at the company, nor did the photographers notice my pregnancy until they had gotten a glimpse at my bare belly. They had smiled and told me I looked good for how far along I was. I took this compliment and was happy that I didn't look too different from the other girls around me.

The shoots weren't as time consuming as you'd think. The only pain in the ass was the traveling; I traveled to cities and other states by train or van with a lot of my clothing. The shoots sometimes ran over the weekend to the weekdays and I would have to cram school in. It was hard trying to fall asleep in a van car seat or in a cabin on a train. My body wasn't used to it and my morning sickness seemed to only arrive when I was moving in a vehicle. It wasn't all bad, I did have some fun and I did meet a lot of people. I met a few musicians who were friends of Pete's, or knew the band.

I didn't get to talk to Pete, but Andy kept me updated, and it wasn't pretty. Pete was always acting out and doing stupid things; he was always off at a doctor's office getting his full of pills because management wanted him to stop his antics. He was on Ativan again, and you could hear the anxiety in his voice when he talked to me. It made me sick with the impending thoughts of him dying. No doubt I was stressed over it, but I took more than an hour out of my day to mediate or to take in deep breaths. Hell, even in my sleep I dreamt of him dying; it was killing me.

I had kept this all to myself, because I knew if I had said anything to anyone, I'd get empty advice that I knew already. I knew to de-stress myself, desensitize Pete's breakdown so I could live, but it wasn't easy. I kept up with the meditation and hoped all would end well.

My baby was particularly healthy, otherwise. They were a tiny little thing, but they were cradled inside of me, just as they should be. My doctor had told me that I needed to eat more, to put on more weight; I wasn't objective to the notion, I was just puking more than I was eating. I ate my weight in fruits and veggies and only pigged out when I was at home and not preparing to go to some shoot. Things slowed down by the second week of February, so I happily ate more than I usually did.

I got a call from Pete a day before Valentine's Day. He was quiet when I first answered, "Pete?"

He let out a soft snore, "I'm gonna be at the airport."

"What airport?" I was completely confused.

"Barrington...O'Hare," he mumbled, "This is Naomi, right?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Pick me up?"

"What time do you get in?"

"5."

I looked at my watch, seeing it was noon.

"Okay, I'll be there. Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm good." He let out a sigh.

"Okay, I love you."

"Love you."

I had cleaned up and took a nap, setting the alarm on my watch to remind me to get up. I was asleep for a few hours before my watch went to pick him up. He had called me, yawning throughout the quick sentence of where he was, and then hung up.

I got to the airport and parked, making my way inside. I saw him at the doughnut shop near the Starbucks and went over. Pete was eating, and he smiled with his mouth full when he saw me; "Navy."

I smiled back, noticing he wasn't on anything at the moment. "Hey, how are you?"

He shrugged and gave me the remainder of his sprinkled doughnut, "Lets get a coffee."

I bit at the doughnut and followed him; he picked up one of his bags, and then took my hand. We went inside Starbucks and order, then got a seat in the back. I wiped my hands on a napkin and looked him over, "How's the record coming along?"

"Okay, I guess." He answered, picking at the bit of the doughnut.

"Hey, that's mine." I whined at him.

He smiled cheekily at me, "I'll buy you you're own later. How's the kid?"

I giggled, "Which one? Ours or Abigail?"

"Ours." He said.

"Baby Wentz is fine--"

He cut me off, "Baby Wentz?"

"That's what they call our baby since we don't know the sex."

He chuckled, "Okay."

"Baby Wentz is fine, kinda on the small side, but they're just fine. The baby is due around your birthday." I told him.

He grinned, "Awesome birthday gift."

"Yep, I thought so, too."

Pete seemed to get lost in a short moment, thinking. The barista called our order, so I went and got our coffees; upon returning, I saw him rubbing his neck, "Here you go."

"Thanks." He murmured.

"How long are you going to be here?" I asked him.

"Three days." He answered before taking a sip from his drink.

"What for?" I asked curiously, now.

"Management said I needed a break." He shrugged, "Told them to give me a ticket to Chicago to come see you."

I smiled, "Did you miss me?"

He nodded with a mouth full of coffee and then swallowed, "No shit. Plus, Valentine's Day," he scoffed jokingly, "I had to come."

I flicked my balled up straw wrapper at him, "Shut up."

He laughed, "I wanted to come home, anyway. I wanted to see how big you've gotten, but you don't even look different."

"Doc says I gotta bulk up."

His brow furrowed, "Why haven't you?"

"I've been sick and can barely eat. I'm not gonna be on any shoots for awhile, swimsuit season is coming up."

He smirked, "Good, I better not see you in a swimsuit in some magazine."

I rolled my eyes, "Don't be a jerk."

"I don't want anyone to see what I get to see." He kept up that little smirk.

"Then you should be so lucky you knocked me up, huh?"

He laughed, "Oh, yeah."

I licked over my bottom lip, getting the mocha off, "How've you been with the idea that you're gonna be a daddy in 4 short months?"

"It hasn't hit me."

"Well, are you still scared?"

"No." He shook his head, "I'm used to it...it's just...I can't imagine a baby yet. It's hard to imagine a kid looking like me, runnin' around; it's hard to picture."

"I know what you mean."

Pete ran a hand through his messy hair, "Will you take me home?"

I nodded, smiling at him, "Yeah, c'mon, love."


Pete and I went over to Chavez's house to meet up with some old friends. I saw a lot of people I hadn't in so long; I saw Babette and Chris; I hadn't seen her in a few weeks since a small shoot on the pier in Michigan. She was so excited that I was having a baby and was keeping them; I appointed her Godmother.

Pete got a few drinks and went into the dining room with his friends while I sat and chit-chatted with Babette, Kate and the other guys' girls. The girls were all new to me and were rude about Pete and his so-called fame. I didn't even care to remember their names; Babette had tried to change the subject, but it was always Pete being brought up.

They always looked to me for some type of answer or reaction.

"Is he really a drug addict?" One of the girls asked.

I blinked, "No."

"How do you put up with it?"

I frowned, "Put up with what? I don't put up with anything that Pete isn't. I love him as he is."

Babette suddenly got up and cleared her throat, "Guys, why don't I get us a drink? Naomi, wanna come with?"

I scoffed, "Yeah, get me away from these bitches."

The girls all gave me a look and Babette led me to the small kitchen. She sighed softly, "Sorry about them."

"It's okay, I don't know them, I know Chaves, Juan, Charlie and--"

I was cut off by someone cursing and then the dining room door being thrown open. I was face to face with a snarling Pete; his expression dropped when he saw me. He let out a deep exhale, grabbed my arm and started to pull me along with him.

"Wait, what's going on?" I asked as my feet stumbled behind him.

"Lets just fuckin' go." He spat out.

I grabbed my coat and bag by the door and followed Pete continuously. He let my arm go once we were outside, steaming, and jogging towards my car. "Pete, what the hell?" I crossed as I followed.

"I got somewhere to be, so hurry up." He muttered, feeling his pockets. "Where're my cigarettes?"

"At home." I told him.

I opened the car doors and got in with him and started the car. I looked over at him, "Where do you have to be?"

"Gotta see my friend Monty. He's gonna tattoo me."

I furrowed my brow in confusion, "Were you fighting with someone in there?"

"Juan's girlfriend was being a bitch so we got in argument about it."

"What'd she say?"

"You know what she said." He muttered, "We heard her talkin' to you about me."

"Oh." I mumbled.

"Yeah, and I wasn't gonna let you stay there."

"Thanks," I smiled at him softly.

"I wasn't gonna be a dick and let it happen."

"So, you and Juan...?"

"We'll get over it." Pete waved it off.

"I didn't cause anything, did I?"

"Nah, it's okay. No harm."

"Okay. So, where does this Monty live?"

"His shop is in town, I'll tell you where, just keep drivin'."

I drove into town and stopped at a apartment building that didn't look anything like any tattoo shop I had visited with Pete. He took my hand and led me in once we had gotten out. I followed his lead, not making a peep as we entered the apartment building and entered an open apartment door.

Inside, there was a shop set up, it looked the same as any other, which was pretty amazing considering the space. A guy with black dreads came from behind a door, a tattoo gun stopped buzzing, "Hey! 'Sup, Pete?"

"Monty, man, are you ready for me?"

Monty chuckled, "Yeah. Is that the girl you're always ravin' about?"

I cocked a brow as Pete blushed, "Yeah, this is Naomi. Navy, this is Monty," he introduced us swiftly, "I met him in New York. He's gonna do my Peter Pan tattoo."

"Peter Pan tattoo?" I questioned.

"You'll see," Pete laughed softly.

"Follow me." Monty instructed.

I followed them towards the inside of the door Monty was at. He let me sit near by, Pete sat near his station set up and began to get his things ready. Pete and Monty talked a bit and then Monty gave me a piece of scrap paper and a pen; "He wants you to write it."

I looked at Pete, "Write what?"

A sneaky smile appeared on his face, "Write a 2, a star and a capital R."

I blinked and then got it, "Second star to the right."

"Exactly," Monty chuckled.

I began to write it, "Where are you getting it, Pete?"

He lifted his left hand and wiggled his middle finger, "Here."

"I bet it hurts." I said handing the paper off to Monty.

"It will," Monty said with a wink.