Breathe Me Back To Life •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Twenty Six: Second Chances Won't Leave Us Alone

Dedication to the lovely Fall-Out-Butt who has posted amazing comments in support of Catrick!

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

"There you go, Princess." Pete grunts, depositing me on one of the two beds in the cozy room. My brother puts my bags onto the floor right next to my neatly made bed and then puts his own on top of his own bed. Pete sighs in relief, dropping back on his bed and shutting his eyes. I survey our surroundings, paying attention to how the hotel almost looks like the one we went to at the beginning of the tour. The colour scheme is both white and cream coloured walls and there's light brown hardwood floor, somewhat matching the furniture around the hotel room.

"Where's the popsicles?" I ask, pressing my face into ithe cool pillow. After Andy left with Patrick, he made sure to text Pete a list of instructions on how to take care of me until they came back from their adventure in Van City. Pete already knew what he was doing, but he appreciated the care our friends were demonstrating.

"They'll be here soon." Pete says, pushing himself up again. He opens his suitcase up and digs around for something. He pulls out an older shirt I never see him wearing before he treks all the way to the bathroom. I hear the water running for what- ten seconds? And then Pete's coming back, the shirt damp with cool water.

"Here, this should keep your fever down," Pete picks up one of the hotel towels and nudges me over, draping the towel over my pillow. I groan and wince at the wet feeling the cloth gives me as Pete places the shirt on my forehead.

"Ugh, it's too wet." I complain to him. He laughs and shakes his head.

"I know what I'm doing- Bronx has been in this world for five years. He's had enough fevers for me to know how to deal with them." Pete says, sitting on the edge of my bed. He smiles softly at me as he pushes my pink bangs back and away from the wet cloth. I smile appreciatively at my brother.

"Thanks, though." I mumble, my voice somewhat hoarse with the soreness of it. "You really act like a dad sometimes." Pete nods and lets out a soft sigh.

"Well, you're my baby sister, and I kind of have to look out for you." Pete says, fidgeting with his fingers for a moment. "Haven't done a good job, though."

"Shut up." I say immediately, trying my best to not let this be a trigger.

"It's just... ever since you told us, I can't help but remember things." Pete says, looking over at me and raising his eyebrows in an 'are you okay?' kind of way. I nod and let him continue, even though I don't want him to. "I remember that day. It was six am or something. Mom and Dad were pissed because they were so worried about you. I covered for you and lied to them that you left the party hours ago and that you slept over at a friend's house."

"That's why they didn't jump my ass when I got home." I try to joke, making Pete crack a weak grin. He nods, nevertheless.

"It was so scary, hearing your key twisting in the lock. I knew something was wrong- that's why I stayed up all night, just in case. It's not like I sleep well, anyways. Mom and Dad were already awake when you opened the door." Pete takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "And then, you came in like a zombie."

"I wasn't like a zombie," I say, even though that must have been true. I was drugged, so of course my movements might have been sluggish.

"You were scary." Pete corrects himself. "Well, not scary, but the way you carried yourself was. You looked dead. Your dress was wrinkled, your shoes were in your hands, your hair was a mess. We all knew something happened, but we didn't pry. We couldn't."

"I appreciate that." I whisper, reaching up to brush a droplet of water from my cheek. I'm not sure if it's my own teardrop or a drip from the wet shirt on my forehead.

"It's just, I couldn't help but think about before tour, when Mom told me to not let any strange boys bother you. I feel like I failed her wishes before she even voiced them, because that's my job. To protect you." Pete whispers, his voice getting all choked and his eyes getting teary. I shake my head.

"You protected me, Pete." I tell him truthfully. When he shakes his head, I elaborate. "You protected me from my biggest enemy- myself."

"I'm so sorry, Colby." Pete presses the heels of his palms to his face, rubbing the tears from his bloodshot eyes. I bite my lip and sit up slightly, catching the shirt when it slides off of my face. I drop it onto the towel on my pillow and engulf my older brother in a hug, burying my face in the crook of his neck and squeezing the daylights out of him. Pete's crying now, really crying, because this hasn't been hard on just me. My confession and behaviour has taken its toll on everyone, especially my friends and family.

"It's okay, Pete. We'll be okay, eventually." I whisper, simply praying that these words will mean something. I can't help but feel my own tears leaking out of my eyes, but I don't try to stop it. Pete and I cry and cry and cry over everything that's been plaguing our minds all these months.

It feels good.

I forget about the tweet I tagged Patrick in momentarily as I cry myself to sleep on my brother's shoulder.

|| Patrick Stump|| First Person||

"Andy," I whisper-yell, quickening my pace to follow after the tattooed bundle of motherly instincts. He turns his head for just a moment before he disappears into the next aisle. I groan and follow after him, crouching down next to him.

"What are you doing?" I ask him as he scans through a list on his phone. He looks up from his cellphone to the stacks of haircare products spread out across the shelves.

"Cole told me she needs hair dye. Apparently no matter how much Manic Panic Elisa put in her hair, the colour still faded after a couple of washes." Andy speaks, totally ignoring me all over again. He plucks a box of some brown hair dye, which is the colour she apparently wants now. He drops the box into the basket and stands up again, wandering around for the frozen foods section.

"Andy, slow down. We're short people, how can you walk so fast?" I joke with him. Andy turns his head behind him and shoots me a toothy grin, signalling that he's amused with my joke. After another thirty minutes of struggling to keep up with Andy, he finally has full basket of medication and other things(something called Vicks VapoRub, Tylenol, and cough syrup), the popsicles, two cartons of Tropicana orange juice, and some other things Cole probably asked him to pick up. I, on the other hand, was stocked and fully loaded for the whole movie night thing we plan to have together later tonight. I took a basket and filled it with chips and popcorn bags(Smartfood popcorn is our favourite), six-pack bottles of Mountain Dew, Coke, and Cream Soda. And you can't forget about all of the candies and chocolates. Of course, we won't eat this all, but we can at least try to. Andy gives my basket a disapproving 'tsk', before he's up next in line for the check-out. After we finish with paying for our purchases, Andy heads for the exit and calls for the cab. I follow after him, pulling my phone out of my jeans. When I press the home button on my iPhone and unlock it, venturing into my twitter app, I can't breathe.

"Patrick," Andy almost drops his bags when he sees my facial expression, concern written all over his face. I can't focus on anything but the words that Cole has typed only an hour before.

"Andy," I gasp out through my jitteriness. Andy looks just about ready to call an ambulance because of how I'm acting. "Look." Andy peers over my shoulder and snatches my phone out of my hands. His expression is pure confusion.

"What does that mean?" Andy asks me, but I'm too preoccupied with having a freaking fangirl attack on the sidewalk of the streets of Vancouver.

ColeWentz ; i meant it @PatrickStump

-/::\-

I'm too terrible for my own good. Just going to leave this chapter for you guys to freak out over. Immediately working on the next chapter just cause I'm excited.

You are all Dallon Weekes.

Don't forget to comment and vote because I get super happy when you do!

-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes

•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken