In Sickness and in Health ( Fall out boy )

Chapter 8

P.o.v Patrick

"I'll be right in guys," I say, and they nod in response, continuing on into the hotel lobby- they know what I have to do.

I walk for a bit until I reach a side walk, sitting down on the cold asphalt, the wind biting my skin despite it being summer. I pull my jacket closer around myself, and click on Elisa's phone number, bringing the phone to my ear.

It rings once. Twice. And my nerves are rising as I contemplate how I'll tell her.

She picks up on the fifth ring, "Hi, Patrick!" She says excitedly, and I can picture the smile on her face, and it brings one to mine.

"Hi baby, there's... Something I need to tell you." I say, and tears already threaten to prickle my eyes. But I know I have to be strong. "What happened?" She asks, her tone now serious and concerned.

"I um, I went to the doctors yesterday after I was having some, um, 'problems'...." I choke up suddenly and I have to take the phone away from my ear for a moment, closing my eyes. I take a deep, shaky breath and hold it back to my ear.

Just Like a bandaid, I say it quickly- "It's Leukemia, Elisa, I'm so sorry..." I mumble out at the end, ripping off my fedora and clutching my hair in pure frustration.

I am too busy controlling my own breaths to notice that she has been silent for a long time. "Elisa?" I ask softly, and her small voice replies so quietly I almost don't understand her, "Please come home."

It breaks my heart to hear her so sad, "We're working things out, ok? I'm going back tomorrow; Boston has great hospitals, and we're not sure about the rest of the tour yet-" "I said come home Patrick!!!" She yells angrily, interrupting me.

"I don't know what to do, I really don't! We can't just leave the fans hanging but if I'm going to go through treatment or just leave it be- I-I don't know yet! I'm just as scared as you are, ok?!" Suddenly I'm angry too, and I can't even help it.

I don't say anything for a minute while I calm myself down, and sniffle, wiping the tears I hadn't known had fallen off my face, "We'll figure something out, Elisa... I love you so much."

"I love you more than anything, Patrick." That's all it takes to make me realize that I am extremely exhausted, and I lay back on the ground, tightly gripping the phone as if it is a lifeline, "How are things going?" I ask shakily, wanting desperately to get off the subject.

"Well, things before this have been pretty good..." She starts off, and over the next hour I just close my eyes and listen, her voice a cure in itself.