Adrenaline Sisters// fall out boy & my chemical romance

Chapter 36: It's Not What It Seems

||First Person||Revolution||

"Would you stop that?" Mikey hisses the second that the studio door shuts behind us, locking away my sister, Patrick, and an obviously uncomfortable Agent. The tall boy spins around on his heels to glare down at me, his lips curving downwards. I know that I'm being rude, I've had enough people tell me that, but hearing it from Mikey himself makes me feel a thousand times more guilty. I don't know what's happening to me, but as every waking moment passes, I feel the knot in my stomach coiling tighter and tighter than before. I can't untangle the fingers clenching around my throat viciously as the seconds pass, and all I want is to be left alone for just one minute. If I could go one minute without having to see Patrick and how he reminds me so much of that man from my nightmares, I would be able to breathe. I bunch my fingers up into a fist as I lean back against the wall, clenching my jaw. "Rev, would you stop being so mean to Patrick?"

"He's a demon!" I declare, crossing my arms over my chest as I look up at the bleach blonde boy, my eyes hard and steely as I glare at Mikey. "He tried to kill us all how many times? And let's not forget that he actually succeeded—" the verbal vomit that comes out of my mouth sounds worse than what I intended to say, and though I cut myself off before I can even let the first letter of the man that gave his life to protect me and Bomb, Mikey looks more than disappointed. He looks appalled.

"What the actual fuck?" Kobra scoffs as he narrows his eyes, shaking his head. He turns around for a moment and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet nervously. He runs a trembling hand through his hair, and I notice then that the blond strands are fading into the natural dark brown that they originally were. I instinctively almost go to move to him, but then I remember that we're in the middle of an argument and I absolutely cannot let my guard down this quickly. "Rev, what is going through that head of yours?" Mikey turns back around, and because I expected to see the embers of fury crackling within those hazel eyes of his, I'm surprised to find concern there. He's making this hard on me. "You aren't like this," he says, his voice wavering like he's trying to weigh each syllable that passes the barrier of his lips. I inhale sharply and hold my breath, trying to hear the blood whooshing in my body and count my heartbeats.

"Maybe you just don't know me as well as you hoped," I let out in one breath, and because I don't mean a single vibe of hostility that made itself apparent in my tone, I refuse to look up at him and instead focus on my torn sneakers. "Maybe you forgot that I'm a bitch."

"You aren't like this," Mikey repeats again, and when I don't look up at me, he extends his arm and hooks two fingers underneath my chin to make me gaze into his eyes. This makes every next word feel like knives impaling me in the most inconvenient of places. "The Nova Carter that I'm in love with... she would never—" I tear my head sharply away from Kobra and slip out of his grasp, backing up. He's not going to make me break, and if by chance the tears finally do decide to make an appearance, I'll be damned if he sees it. I stumble away from him, my heart breaking with each inch of distance that gets put between us. "Rev, you can't keep pushing me away," Mikey doesn't look at me completely, his body still facing the wall where I once had been. Then his head turns and he's looking at me. "Nothing is going to fix by itself."

"I could try," I say. "I could try to ignore it like I always did and hope it won't fucking kill me."

"That's not an option," he tells me, and finally he's turning around to face me, his eyes drinking up the appriximately ten or so feet between us. All of that space makes me feel much more suffocated, but I can't stand to be so close to Kobra. He makes everything clearer, and the less haze that clogs my mind, the more I have to think about the fact that I'm a stone cold murderer. I don't want to be able to think things through. I want to let the fog swallow me up, and maybe if I'm lucky it'd be poisonous and I could cease to exist finally. "That's not a fuckin' option, Rev."