The Last Of The Real Ones // Patrick Stump

25. Calm Before The Storm, Set It Off

When I woke the next morning, it was oddly early, and it took me a moment to realize that I was about to sick.

Ah. No wonder I woke up at six in the morning.

I immediately got out of bed, rushing to the bathroom as quietly as possible so I wouldn't wake Patrick, Who was still fast asleep.

I leaned over the toilet, basically throwing up everything I ate last night. I sat there for nearly ten minutes before I heard a quiet shuffling behind me.

I looked up, and Patrick was walking in, rubbing his eyes and yawning. When he saw me on the floor, he immediately came over, kneeling next to me.

"Are you feeling sick again?" He asked, his voice laced with concern as he ran his hand through my hair.

"What's it look like?" I mumbled.

I wasn't mad at him, though it might've sounded like that. I was feeling sick, and just found out I was pregnant, and with already getting mood swings from that, I was a little cranky.

Patrick thankfully knew that, at least the part about me being cranky, and just continued to run his hand through my hair, brushing it so it wasn't in my face.

"Do you need anything?" He asked.

I leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around me, kissing me on the head. I guessed he got what I meant, because he just held me there. It was like he just knew I really needed cuddles from him or he was just being his sweet self and decided to be cuddly.

"Maybe we should go to the doctor.." he said. "You've been getting sick a lot."

"It's probably just the flu." I mumbled, hoping he wouldn't talk about it any further.

"But even Saint is feeling better.." he said. "Pete said it was only 24-hour, and if you're sick still, it might be something bad.."

I moved away from him. "You told Pete about this?" I Asked.

"I mean, yeah, I just wanted to see if Saint was better and all.." he said, the expression on his face showing that he knew I wasn't happy.

"Patrick, I don't like how you can talk about me being sick with Pete." I Said, crossing my arms over my chest. "Especially if he's the one telling you I should go to the doctor."

He bit his lip and looked down a bit, and I huffed.

"This is nobody else's business." I Said.

"Why are you mad?" He Asked quietly.

I stopped for a moment.

Why was I mad?

I mean, there was really nothing to be mad about. Patrick only cared for my wellbeing, and decided to talk to his friend about it. No big deal right?

Of course, my hormones were all haywire, and it was causing these weird emotion reactions that I could only label as good old-fashioned mood swings.

I swallowed, looking down. "I'm sorry." I mumbled. "I'm just.."

Should I tell him now? I was thinking about telling him later on, like after we got home. Would now be too soon?

I shook my head, deciding against telling him yet. "I'm sorry.." I mumbled again.

The week passed quickly, and we ended up back in Chicago, back home where we just felt lighter, especially after everything with my mom and sisters.