Adrenaline Sisters// fall out boy & my chemical romance

Chapter 22: Cause I Did It All, Every Goddamn Lie

||First Person|| Revolution||

"How are you feeling, Rev?" Bomb asks me later that evening. She crouches down in front of me with a look of pure exhaustion aging her extremely youthful features. I think about how she managed to drag a half unconscious Patrick out of the house and figure that she's just tired. I rub my sleepy eyes and yawn softly, a cough emitting in response.

"I'm fine," I answer her shortly, not wanting to make my sister worry anymore than she already does. She's too young to have the weight of the world on her shoulders. "How are you?" I ask her because something tells me that she hasn't been getting asked that enough recently.

"Withdrawals, y'know?" She gulps nervously, and her hands twitch nervously over her lap. I narrow my eyes at her, suddenly becoming wary of that fact. The last time I saw her showing any real signs of a withdrawal was this morning, and since then, she's been acting cocky and daring. I bite my tongue and refrain from making a curious comment about her drug use. "How's it been affecting you?"

"I feel nauseous," I answer her, "and my hands won't stop shaking." I hold my hands out to her, as if to prove this, and when my trembling hands continue to quake ferociously, she takes my hands in hers to stabilize them. "You have none left, right?" I ask her, hoping for just a moment that Bomb was lying when she said she gave it all away to Gerard. She gulps and nods her head.

"We can... We can get through this, okay?" she promises me, letting go of one of my hands so she can affectionately run a hand through my crazy hair. I just tied it back up in a ponytail because of how messy it got, and Poison mentioned to me earlier that tomorrow morning, he'd help me braid it again. Her hand cups my cheek lovingly, and she shoots me a small smile. "We'll find more Adrenaline and hide it and we'll be just fine." She shrugs her shoulders with a light chuckle, knowing how difficult that'd be for us. We'd have to go to one of the BL/ind. vending machines to get some more in the slightly safer route, the other route being looting some Dracs and Silencers. We wouldn't dare go back to Battery City if we can help it though, not until we've recovered and have an actual plan this time.

"I'm going to puke," I groan, leaning forward to rest my head on her. She sighs softly and strokes my back soothingly as I focus on calming down the war raging within my stomach. It's been almost two days since the last dose, and I'm feeling the effects taking over.

"It's okay, Rev." She sighs softly, continuing to rub my back. "You'll be okay." She continues to play the role of both my big sister and a mother. Bomb's always been like that with me ever since we went on the run. I'm always going to be looked at as the little sister that needs the protector and she's always going to be the boss, and most of the time, I'm okay with it. I'm content with having her there, having Bomb play the part of the caregiver, because I never really had one, or at least one that I can remember. Eventually, I sit up again and she excuses herself to help Jet Star divide the rations that they packed earlier. I'm left alone for a moment, my backpack as my makeshift pillow and my sweater a blanket, until Kobra comes over with a bottle of water and some sort of canned food with a Better Living logo on it.

"Power Pup," he chuckles lightly as he waves the can in my face, "is garbage, and since we almost died today, I am not settling for that shit." Kobra puts the can down on the desert ground and takes his backpack off, unzipping it before showing me the contents of it. There's a bag of chips in it that we could easily share, some ramen noodles, and a couple of chocolate bars inside. Dinner for Kings.

"I can't eat," I mumble, resting a hand over my stomach. "I'll puke it up and we can't waste."

"Your stomach?" Mikey straightens up and suddenly looks serious. "What's—"

"It's fine, just nausea." I reply, rolling over so I'm conveniently lying over his lap. Mikey stiffens up for a moment, his hands frozen above my back for who knows how long before he finally rests it on my back. I sigh softly, closing my eyes as I rest my head on his leg, the black denim material digging into my cheek lightly. "Your brother's fault, y'know?" I chuckle dryly.