Sickfics

...Baby Come Home(Peterick)

Pete x Patrick---Fall Out Boy (SICK PETE) 

"I literally cannot even begin to...what are you doing now?" Patrick yelled. 

"Taking out the fucking trash like you wanted!" 

It had been a stressful couple days for everyone; interviews, recordings, music videos, it was exhausting. When Pete had woken up that day, he knew it was going to be shit. He felt heavy and gross, didn't want Patrick's breakfast, and was so damn tired. He was clumsy as hell, couldn't seem to play or sing right, and kept spacing out. Everyone had been on edge, what with a certain deadline to hit, that they chalked it up to an aggravating off day. They still snapped at him on occasion though. He played it off as best he could, but towards seven in the evening, Patrick asked him to take the trash out, and then ten minutes later it was still there. That insinuated a fight between them. 
After twenty minutes of yelling, Pete was done. He grabbed his shoes and pulled on a light jacket. For the fall weather, it was alright. He had a raging headache, felt sticky, and a sick to his stomach. He just wanted to be by himself, no. He wanted to be taken care of, but with the fight that was going on, it just wasn't happening. So he decided to just leave. He wasn't wanted at the moment anyway. 

"...what are you doing now?" Patrick yelled.

"Taking out the fucking trash like you wanted!"

He stormed out the door and into the cloudy night. Assuring himself that Patrick wasn't going to run after him, he set out on the long walk. Hood pulled up, looking like some kind of high drug dealer, he lost himself in his own mind, stopping every now and then to rest. He turned everything on silent except for his music on the phone. He played some of his favorite bands and settled into his own state. He knew this was a horrible idea, being sick and all, but the fight and embarrassing events during the tiring day just made him apathetic to his wellbeing. 

The volume was turned down significantly on his phone due to the headache his body gave. It was so cold outside that the jacket he wore held little to no heat. He thought about turning around and walking back, but he felt so tired and weak. He was also extremely far from home. An hour and a half of walking and he found himself almost at the other side of town near a gas station. There was a bus stop where he could rest his weary body at. 

"Oof, God that's nice." he said. Granted it was freezing, but he wasn't relying on his shaking legs to keep him upright. His stomach swirled and made a bunch of sick gurgling sounds. "Fuck. Don't do this man." he told himself. He started to cough and lightly gag. Pretty soon, it passed. By now it was pitch black outside with only the dim streetlights illuminating his surroundings. A wave of coarse emotion came over him. 

Patrick was mad 
He was making a fool of himself all day
He felt god awful
The band was annoyed with him
Video makers were pissy with him 
He was so far from home
Cold
And above all...

Nauseous 

He cried. He sat on that bus stop bench and cried in pain and anger with himself. "Fucking hell Pete suck it up you little bitch." but he didn't. He didn't want to walk all the way home, felt like he couldn't ask for a ride, Uber would see him like this and that would be worse. Busses didn't come during night. All the facts made him cry even harder to the point of hiccups and growing nausea. Suddenly his phone started to buzz. One percent remaining. 

Fuck. His stomach felt so bloated and out of shape, he leaned forward and tried to ease the pain by rubbing it, hoping to alleviate the discomfort as best he could. He began to salivate a lot more, and spitting a lot. The crying really put a jolt into his stomach. A burst of cold ran throughout his body, he pulled the jacket tighter, but there was nothing that it would do. If anything, he became worse. He hated it. He utterly hated it.