Adrenaline Sisters// fall out boy & my chemical romance

Chapter 19: Road to Ruin

|| First Person || Bomb Sunshine ||

When I start to come to, I realize it's not the sun that wakes me up. It's myself. I am shaking. I sit up and form into the sweater Patrick had given me as a makeshift blanket for the night. I crave Adrenaline the moment my mind gathers its composure.

"You're up earlier than I expected," Patrick comments. I look over at him. Patrick busies himself with a pen and a notebook he probably had in his backpack the entire time.
"You're up earlier than I expected," I repeat, almost mocking him. He gives a light smirk and tears his attention from the paper bounded together with a spiral wire. I pull my knees close to my chest in hopes that it'll stop my frame from shaking.

"What's that?" I ask, nodding towards the book in his hand. Patrick closes it, putting his pen in the loops of the wire.
"A notebook," he comments with a chuckle. I narrow my eyes at the boy. He laughs. "It's nothing. Full of old lyrics the band and I wrote and some stupid notes and doodles."
"What were you doing earlier?"
"Drawing," he blushes a little. "I'm no artist. I just do it when I'm bored or I can't sleep. Obviously, right now is the ladder."

I nod and fixate my gaze to the desert dust I sit on. I look over towards the rest of the group, finding all of the Killjoys and Defenders asleep. It's just me and Patrick. I'm not the person to start a conversation at night, let alone with unexplained convulsing.

"You're cold?" Patrick asks after a moment, observing my shivering.
"No?" I question, not even sure if it's because I'm cold or not. The deserts do get hot, but the temperature drops drastically at night. Patrick takes his leather jacket off and drapes it around my shoulders. It's a heavy jacket, but it embraces me in the warmth I didn't know I needed. My shaking reduces, but is still there.

"Better?" he questions. I nod, trying to stop my hands from twitching. Patrick notices the subtle movement. "It's only been a day, Bomb."
"A day too many," I retort. Patrick blows a sigh. It's his turn to hug his knees to his chest as he studies me.
"You gotta lay off this stuff. It's serious," he informs me again.
"Aren't you going to freeze?" I ask, changing the subject. I genuinely do feel bad for taking his jacket.
"I'll be fine," he smiles weakly. "It's way worse in Chicago."
"Where's that?" I ask. "What Zone?"
"It's not in California," Patrick chuckles. "Different state. It's a little different than this place, from what I remember." I nod, unsure how to continue the conversation. I do get a hint of homesickness from Patrick.

The sun begins to slowly peek from the horizon. The once dark sky begins to show small growths of light. The temperature also rises with the sun.

"You can take your jacket back," I say to Patrick. I start to notice goosebumps on his pale arms.
"No, it's fine," Patrick insists. "You need it more than I do."
"I have a sweater in my bag," I mention. "You can take your jacket."
"As a gentleman, I ought to let you borrow it," he says. I roll my eyes at his comment with a snicker as I take the leather article off before handing it to him.
"Chivalry is nice, but survival is more important," I comment. "Besides, I don't think a jacket can stop this shaking."
"What ideas do you have, then?" Patrick inquires.
"Adren—"
"No," he cuts me off. "Not happening."

I go into my backpack and take my final stash out, it containing a small container of the pills.
"Really? You lied to Gerard and told him to his face that you gave him the entire stash!" he scolds. Before I can take a pill out of the container, Patrick snatches the collection from me.

"Give it back!" I demand, reaching for the drug.
"No! You need to cut this junk out of your life!"
"You have no idea what you're doing!"
"I'm protecting you from a terrible addiction that could kill you! I can't afford to have someone else's blood on my hands!"