Adrenaline Sisters// fall out boy & my chemical romance

Chapter 16: Don't You Breathe For Me

||First Person|| Revolution||

I watch my sister curiously, studying the way she's clutching her file to her chest. She's hiding something from not only everyone else, but from me. After all we've been through together, she doesn't want me to hear something about our life.

"Okay, Nova Carter," Party announces, nudging me lightly when I forget to respond to the name. "You are... Wait, you're 16?"

"October 23rd," Mikey tells his older brother, looking over at me with a smile that I refuse to return. The grin on his face falters upon meeting my scowl, and suddenly his eyes are narrowing and he's looking back at the folder like everyone else. I pull out a bar stool from underneath the counter and sit down on it, listening to the life that I thought was gone forever being retold.

"Just some nonsense about your weight and height," Party chuckles lightly, skimming through the insignificant facts. "...Goes by Adrenaline Revolution, like her sister Adrenaline Bomb Sunshine. This may allude to their frequent abuse of Adrenaline, a drug that is normally distributed to Draculoids and other members of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit to numb them in combat." Party recites, his voice loud as he announces to everyone here that Bomb and I are drug addicts. When you put it like that, of course it's gonna sound bad.

"Still on that crap, huh?" Ghoul raises his eyebrows, his Frankenstein mask hanging around his neck. I shrug my shoulders and sigh. These guys always bug me and Bomb about it.

"What's Adrenaline?" Andy asks, his eyebrows raised. "Sorry, I'm... Straight-Edge, so," he chuckles nervously.

"It's basically a drug that makes you numb to most pain and feel invincible," Jet Star answers him with a reassuring smile. "It screws with your memory though." He nods his head towards us, referring to us just finding out our true identities.

"Ah," Andy nods, looking down at his feet. It doesn't take a psychologist to get that Andy disapproved of our drug use. Most people did.

"Anyways," Gerard says, deciding to continue, "this is just a list of the other meds they prescribed you..." Gerard keeps reading, pausing shortly. "Painkillers? What would you need that for?"

"You don't want to know," Bomb stutters out, her voice shaking. I raise my eyebrows at her.

"They stabbed her," I answer the red head, and that causes Poison to almost drop my file on the floor of the diner when he hears my revelation. Patrick straightens up and anger crosses his face as he looks over at my sister, raising his eyebrows at her. She glares at me lightly, her hand instinctively going to rest over her stomach. "It's mostly healed, but they stabbed her after they slit Doctor D's throat." I either choke out the words or swallow them, it's hard to tell, but either way, everyone can hear the lack of rebellion in my voice for once. I cough lightly and attempt to clear my throat. "Go check out the Mental Health Evaluations. I bet there's some rich stuff in there." I say dryly. Mikey hesitantly places a hand on my shoulder to gently console me, but I flinch and brush him off. I'm still angry with him, and though all I want right now is some food that isn't drugged, a tight hug, and to sleep, I can't let him in. Not after what he did. The last time I ever let him in, he ran and left me to get taken away by Korse, and though I know that he couldn't afford to be captured, it still ruined me. I spent days thinking about that last moment we spoke, how he ignored my pleas for him to help me, how he ceased to protect me when it especially counted. I couldn't dare let him in after that.

"Mental Health Evaluation, Interview conducted by Dr. Melanie Sanchez on October 21st. At BL/ind. HQ." Gerard begins, his voice cracking as he speaks slowly. He brushes his crimson dyed hair back behind his ear as he glances up carefully, having captured everyone's attention. "Nova Carter, the patient in question, was very unattached during the interview. Her voice was quiet and at some points it would crack, exposing a part of her that the vigorous interrogation process may be revealing. Overall, she did not cause too much trouble as this evaluation was being conducted. Miss Carter expressed signs of fear and vulnerability the moment she was brought in; her hands were crossed tightly over her chest and her legs were tucked together compressedly. It's difficult to tell right now, but Nova Carter seems to suffer from Post Traumatic Stress.