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

Chapter Twenty Three: Cause You Are Perfect Porcelain

Dedicated to YoungBlood026 for all the lovely votes and comments from the beginning! Thank you lots, every single one of you!

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

Holy freaking shit, why does my crappy immune system decide to make me want to cough up my lungs just now? Why couldn't I have gotten sick two weeks ago when Elisa was there so I could infect her with this virus? Yeah, I'm sick, and there really is no denying it. My throat feels like sandpaper, making it nearly impossible to swallow anything without wanting to die, and then on top of that, I'm having the chills. The sore throat will go away in a day, but the whole feverish thing doesn't go away fast for me. I just have to tough it out and hope that the worst of it holds off until after our week-long vacation in Vancouver, British Columbia. Gosh, if I don't get better soon, I think I just might explode. I never take colds well. Examples are how almost nearly every time I get a cough, it's like I'm hacking a tennis ball lodged in my throat to the point I puke. Yeah, definitely not pretty.

"Here," Patrick smiles, passing me the blanket he was given by the flight attendant. I smile gratefully, tucking the second blanket around my head and shoulders. I lean closer into Patrick and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to cough. Gosh, he doesn't even care that he might get sick while he needs to perform.

"You have a crappy immune system," Patrick laughs lightly, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer to him. I blush and let out a really high pitched sneeze. Joe laughs at that.

"We'll get you some medicine when we land." Andy says from behind us, his voice filled with concern. I groan, my stomach rolling around. I want off of the plane, but we're already in the air, and we have four more hours to go before we get to Canada. Man, I think I might go crazy before this plane even touches ground.

"I'm going to be sick." I mumble, shifting around so much that I end up half on my seat, half on Patrick. He kisses my clammy forehead and squeezes my hand, whispering inspirational words to me. I can't hear a thing past the buzzing in my ears from how badly I wish he'd kiss me. I can't stop thinking about Colorado. God, I was such a mess, but he didn't even mind.

"You'll be fine in a few more hours, kay, munchkin?" Andy says, making me burst out into a fit of disorientated, high pitched giggles. Patrick shakes his head after snorting, patting my back. Joe bursts out in laughter, getting shushed by my brother because 'his hyena laugh will wake up the whole Goddamn plane.'

"For now, just sleep." Pete tells me, looking past Patrick to me. I nod, stretching my sore legs. So basically, for the millionth time today, I force my weak, tired, and totally sick body back to sleep.

And it isn't good.

---

||Patrick Stump|| First Person||

Cole's slow, congested breaths let me know that she's fallen back asleep. I sigh, rubbing my tired eyes, before looking down at the nineteen year old girl. Her nose has turned slightly red, the stuffy breathing instrument a bright contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes keep clenching shut tighter, like she's having a bad dream.

Holy smokes, why does not having her hurt so much?

"You like her." Pete whispers, looking over at me with a straight face. I turn my head to the older boy, my eyes dilating considerably because of the quite accurate observation. I'm about to deny it though, because really, who am I to tell my best friend that I love his younger sister? But Pete just rolls his eyes like I've made a joke only an imbecile would.

Holy smokes, did I just say love?

"I know you do." Pete says, looking down at his sister who is fast asleep on my chest. Her eyes are squeezed shut while her bottom lip is trembling. She must be having a nightmare. "Just tell me if you really care about her."