Adrenaline Sisters// fall out boy & my chemical romance

Chapter 40: You Can't Cover It Up

||First Person||Revolution||

My dreams, for once, ceased to make an appearance as I fell asleep in Mikey's warm embrace, my mind far to exhausted to brew up another storm of demons and memories after what it did to me earlier today. I travelled through a dark void for who knows how long, as time did not bother to make an appearance and exist within the darkness of my mind. All I know is that when I wake up next, it's not in Kobra's arms. In fact, he's no longer in bed, his side void of the warm body that was there when I fell asleep. A crease in the sheets is all the evidence left that he was even there, one that smells strongly of comfort.

I roll over in bed, the comforter tangling around my legs as I press my face to the second pillow that his head once rested on, my face pressing against the warm fabric. He didn't leave too long ago, or else it would have been colder. I sink into what is left of Mikey Way, the boy that has everything and nothing all at once. I began to run with my sister at a young age, when we had barely any memories to hold onto. It made things way easier for us, to not have attachments when we left, but what is it like for Mikey? He was a successful musician not very long before the Fires which alludes to having a fanbase and friends. I ponder the idea of him losing everything that once made sense to him so quickly and being forced to move on with the memories still plaguing him. Did playing the bass guitar with his friends for people haunt him, like life would never be so simple again? Did he lose his parents back then, his family? All I know is that the only people he has are his brother, the boys in the diner, and me and Bomb. Did having to remember all of that disturb him? And if so, which one of us has it worse— me not having anything good to remember in times of distress or him having so much good to taunt him in dark times?

I would continue to think about this for longer, but there's a knock on the door to the cramped room and my sister is slipping in, a bag of chips and a bottle of water in hand as she closes the door behind her. I struggle to pull myself up to a seated position as she heads over to the bed, plopping down by my feet. "Hey, Rev," she says in a softer voice than I expected. I nod my head, my throat far too dry for me to be able to form the words to greet her back. Bomb must sense this because she's twisting the cap off and holding the water out to me, to which I'm graciously taking and guzzling some down in a heartbeat.

"Where'd Kobra go?" I ask after a minute, the cap back on the bottle of water and my throat no longer parched. My sister sighs as she pushes herself to a more comfortable position, rubbing her eyes afterwards.

"Agent needed his help with the radio show," she answers me easily. I nod my head in understanding. "Now enough about him, what's going on with you?" I almost choke at how immediate the conversation derailed, leaving me as nothing but a stammering mess as a result. I open my mouth to speak but no sound comes out. My sister frowns. "What happened to us?" she asks me softly.

"What do you mean?" I finally manage to say to her as I pass the bottle back to her.

"I mean that we used to tell each other everything," Bomb sighs tiredly as she receives the bottle and sets it down. Bomb reaches out and takes my shaking hands in her warm ones in an attempt to steady them. Slowly, the trembling ceases as her warm hands envelop my own. "Hallucinations?" She inquires, waiting for me to go on and explain to her what's been bothering me like I normally would. It's hard for me to clear my throat to make way for the words that she expects to hear, but I finally manage to get a small sentence out.

"I see a little girl," I answer her bleakly, my voice coming out in an abnormal squeak. Bomb nods her head in a reassuring way, gently prodding me to go on with a slight squeeze of her hands. "She hates me." I add after a moment. Bomb frowns at that, her lips curling downwards with displeasure at my curt admittances. I want to look away and tear my gaze away from those eyes filled with so much concern, but I can't bring myself to. She deserves that much.