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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Fall Out Boy >> Between The Lies

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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I Just Want To Be Better Than Your Head's Only Medicine
By Dezzy

 

Between The Lies

Chapter 8: I Just Want To Be Better Than Your Head's Only Medicine

~*~

They met on a Friday, washed his hair on Monday, first date on the following Sunday, concert on another Monday, second date on Wednesday, and all this crap on Thursday. It was now Sunday and officially they had known each other two weeks and two days. So much has happened in the course of that time that it was almost too much to follow. Severe life changes.

First, the fact that she met him in the first place at all was life changing. And the fact that this little plan was concocted. In such a little time, she had decided that she would go with it all and go along with her sister's plan.

Her sister. That was the other life changing thing. She learned that her sister had done some unsavory things to put a roof over her head and it had all come back to bite Bree and herself in the butt. But that isn't what was bothering her.

Not the fact that she slept with some guy for money. Not that her strip club was being used to traffic drugs and who knows what else. Not that she lied about why she needed to get a job.

The fact that she didn't even think to call and tell her that she was alright. That she cried and barely ate for two days worrying about her, thinking the worst. How dare she do something like this. She was livid, absolutely furious. As soon as that trollop came through the door she was gonna give her the what for. She might even slap her. Yeah, a nice hard slap across her heavy foundation-ed face. She deserved it.

The door opened slowly. She was gonna pay for terrifying her like that. She was gonna pay.

She stepped in wearing a blue blouse and black skirt, black heels. Typical. Can she wear any other color? How obvious. Her hair was gorgeous, of course, her makeup all in place. Thick, black sunglasses covering her guilty eyes. She had bought luggage, probably filled with new slutty clothes to fill her already bulging closet. Oh, how she was gonna lay into her.

She opened the door all the way and stopped when she saw Sam standing with her arms crossed, a glare painted on her face that could make a dog whimper. She dropped her new bag and stared at her.

Here it was, her big moment. For once she was gonna stand up for herself and tell someone off. She stepped closer...and closer...and closer. She was a foot from her and silence was murdering the room.

Bree sighed and took off her sunglasses, her eyeliner and mascara perfect as usual. Sam uncrossed her arms and raised her hand up. Connect with that flawless, soft skin and make it burn.

In the middle of the attack her hand got a mind of its own. Her arm went around the older's shoulder and the other arm followed.

Her big moment ruined by a hug.

``DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DID TO ME, YOU STUPID BITCH?!'' She screamed and sobbed.

The older sighed and wrapped her arms around her little sister's waist slowly. ``I'm sorry...'' She whispered.

``SORRY?! YOU'RE SORRY?! YOU LEFT ME AND I DIDN'T KNOW IF YOU WERE ALIVE OR DEAD!! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?!'' She shrieked as she let go of her.

``I thought that you hated me! You found out what a worthless slut I am and then I threatened to tell Patrick everything! You should hate me!'' Bree was on the edge of crying now too and Sam sobbed harder.

``You're not a worthless slut and I don't hate you!'' She leaned into her for another hug and choked in a gasp. ``You're all I have left in the world, Bree...all I have left...''

Bree let a small whine escape her mouth before she returned the embrace. ``I'm so sorry, Sammie...'' Sam sobbed at hearing her sister's voice say her beloved nickname again. ``I just thought you...'' She cried and Sam held her tighter.

Bree didn't didn't cry very often. She didn't even cry at the funeral. So when she did, Sam knew that it was huge. Sam held her sister as she sobbed quietly and Sam found herself comforting the sister that always comforted her. She knew the tears were also for her friends that were gone from that shooting.

``I'm sorry about your friends...'' She said softly. A sigh was the response. ``And I'm sorry about all the crap you've been through.''

Bree pulled away. ``Brought it on myself.'' She said as she wiped her now mascara covered face.

``Be that as it may, you still went through some bad stuff. And I never asked, and we never talked about it.'' Bree closed the door to the apartment and continued wiping her face. Sam then saw how tired she looked.

``It's all my fault for getting mixed up with Jake.'' She looked somber for a minute and Sam sighed.

``Did you love him once?''

``As much as I can love any man.'' She shook her head and rubbed Sam's shoulder. ``I'm so sorry... I didn't call because I thought that--''

``I could NEVER hate you. I'm mad as hell, or I was...guess I got over it, huh?'' She chuckled and Bree sighed heavily.

``Forgive me?'' She asked with fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

Sam nodded as her eyes were doing the same and they held each other again.

Just another normal problem solved with tears and hugs. Just like always.

Since it was Sunday, Easy Trim was closed. They had the whole day to eat junk food, watch cheesy romance movies and just veg out. Bree was in her silk pink pajamas, and without all her makeup on she actually looked younger. She looked like she always did when they were growing up. And they looked more alike without all that stuff on her face.

They were at the end of Ghost and the middle of that Briar's Cookies 'n Cream tub when Sam's cell rang. She picked it up and smiled. ``Hey.'' She answered. ``...Yeah, she's home.''

Bree gave puppy dog eyes and nudged her sister. ``Tell him thank you for putting up with all this crap.'' She whispered.

``She says thank you for putting up with all this crap...'No problem', he says.'' Bree smiled and looked at the coffee table.

``I'm gonna get more popcorn. The ending always makes me cry and I've had enough of that today.'' She still sashayed as she walked and Sam smiled at her.

``So...What's up?''

``Ah, nuthin'. Kinda bored really. I've been worried about Bree too, so it's good to know she's okay.'' He answered as he looked around his empty apartment.

'Yeah...' She sighed through the phone.

``Are YOU okay?''

'Yeah, I just wanna spend the day with my sis. We need girl time.' She giggled and he chuckled.

``Oh, okay then. I wasn't asking if you wanted to do something, or something. Just checkin' on ya.'' He smiled when she giggled again.

'How gallant of you.'

``Yep, that's me.'' So cheesy.

'Bree's back with popcorn and we're gonna watch 40 Year Old Virgin. Been watching romance all day, we need a laugh.'

He nodded. ``Okay, I'll let you go.''

'I'll call you later?' She asked.

``Sure, or me. It's whatever.'' He answered coolly.

'Okay....Bye, Patrick.'

``Bye...'' He hung up and sighed. What a relief that everything was okay. But now that the drama was over, that meant he would have to deal with what was going on. What exactly IS him and Sam anyway?

He leaned back and looked around. How he wished he could feel a cold wet nose on his hand again. Ever since Penny died a few months ago, it had been too quiet in his houses. Maybe that's another reason he was staying in California. His Chicago home had some sour memories. Such as Penny getting leukemia and...Katherine.

He sighed again and sat up. No need dwelling on the past. Good things were happening to him now. Also, his band was in the beginning stages of a new album. 'Beginning stages' meaning at one point Pete had said, ``Hey, let's make another album.'' Other than that concert last week, they really hadn't done much in the performance circuit. The concert was Pete's way of ``getting back in there'' as he called it. A way to refresh the memories of the fans and get them ready for a new CD and possible tour.

When he looked at it that way, meeting Sam didn't have such good timing. An album takes work and time, and a tour...REALLY bad timing. Perhaps only friends is what they were destined to be. But it was what it was. Can't change it, and he wasn't gonna be a dick and dump her outta nowhere. He should at least see where this COULD go.

So he got up off the couch and went to his mini studio--well, room with lot's of instruments. He grabbed his acoustic guitar and played a few notes to warm up. Just random things, nothing really important. He fumbled around and found some random lyrics that Pete had written down quickly on a piece of notebook paper. He chuckled softly. This is how it usually was. Not for every song, but some were written like this. Random words on a piece of paper, and random notes until something comes clear. He looked at the words and noticed that they seemed like the early days...angry and obviously about a female. He hoped that Pete wasn't writing autobiographical again, because if that was the case then these words might mean he and Ashlee were having problems.

~Why do you burn me?
Chew me up and forget to swallow
Like a drug, I keep coming back
Sink me slowly~

He raised an eyebrow. Pete's lyrics sometimes didn't make sense, everyone knew that, but these were plain as day. The next line had nothing to do with the previous words and he giggled. Just stupid shit he threw down for fun. Though those first few lines did seem a bit...painful. Speaking of, his throat was kinda getting raw...

The next day Easy Trim was doing okay, in its own standards, that is.

``Four customers, that's better than usual.'' September mused.

``Well, I guess we went through our back to school rush...'' Kate sighed as she leaned against the counter.

``That reminds me. Is Mary fired?'' Tem asked.

``No, she got four thirty to nine.'' Kate picked at her nails.

``That's not much. She said she needed this job...I hope she's okay...'' Sam thought aloud.

``Don't matter.'' September answered.

The door jingled and Sam was surprised to see her sister walk in. ``Bree?''

``Hey, kiddo. How's it going?'' She asked as the door shut behind her.

Sam shrugged and Kate got up to greet her. ``Hello, may we help you?''

``Actually, you can. I'm wanting a trim and anything else you can do with this mess.'' She said fingering her long, curly, platinum blond hair.

``Why?'' Sam asked. Bree NEVER changed her hair. Or at least she hadn't for a long time.

``I need a new look.'' She sighed. ``I want a change, a whole new makeover.'' Sam smiled at her and Bree stepped in further.

``What'cha want?'' Antonio asked.

``First, a trim. I'm so tired of pulling my hair forward when I pee.'' She picked up her tail bone length hair and rolled her eyes. ``And I want it to be straight. My hair is naturally wavy like hers,'' she gestured to Sam, ``but I want it straight. And I wanna be golden blond.''

September seemed to perk up at that. It had been a few days since anyone had wanted a dye job. Most just came in for a cheap cut.

``So basically everything you offer.'' Bree smiled cheeky and September groaned.

``And then you pay us with the money we pay her with...'' She scoffed as she looked at Sam.

An eyebrow quirked up on the former stripper. ``Our money is separate and I have plenty to pay with on my own.'' The two women exchanged looks and then Kate clapped her hands.

``A total makeover it is then!'' She seemed very happy.

Bree tilted her head. ``Do you have someone that does makeup?'' No one answered. ``That could bring in some more people. If you had someone that knew a lot about makeup and could give tips, that would make this a true beauty salon instead of just a hair parlor.''

Sam smiled. Bree knew a lot about makeup...

``Anyway...let's get to it shall we?'' Bree walked towards a chair and went to sit down. ``Who washes me--oh, that's right! Sammie!''

Snickers were heard among the other employee's and September chuckled. ``Sammie?''

After she was washed and dried, cut and dyed--hey, a rhyme--The look of joy on both sisters faces were apparent.

``Oh, my God! You look so different...'' Sam gasped.

Bree smiled and flipped her now Jeniffer Aniston, styled hair. ``Yes, much better...'' She sighed as she stood up. ``Thank you so much.'' Everyone nodded at her as another customer walked in. It was a young girl and she looked mad.

``Can we help you?'' Kate asked.

``I wanna dye my hair purple.'' The girl answered and September giggled.

``And why is that?'' She asked the young lady.

``Because my mother is a bitch.'' She crossed her arms and sneered.

Everyone looked around and September laughed. ``I know the feeling, honey, but try something like a natural color that she would hate.''

``Black.'' The young girl was a blond and she grinned evilly as she spoke.

``Did you skip school to be here?'' Kate asked, noticing the back-pack.

``Yep.'' The teen answered. ``I got cash.'' She waved a big wad around and Kate looked back at September.

``Black it is.''

*----------*

Sam plopped down on her couch and sighed happily. The day had gone well. And everything seemed to be getting back to normal. Except Bree was around all day long. That was nice.

``Are you gonna look for work?'' Sam asked.

``Honey, do you know why I go with Cricket when all my friends go with expensive crap? The cheapest internet and cable?''

``No...'' Sam had wondered about that.

``Because I've been saving my money for a time like this. In case I ever got away. I got a lot of cash stored away. It'll last a while for us, but I'll need to get a job eventually.''

``Too bad the salon is going down...you could be a makeup person.'' Sam sighed.

Bree quirked her head and thought about it. ``Hmm...Have you talked to gingerbread lately?'' She asked.

Sam blushed at her sister's nickname for Patrick and shook her head. ``We talked last night. We said we would call each other but we didn't...Maybe I should call him?'' Bree looked at her and smirked. ``Maybe I will.'' Sam smiled and dialed his number. After three rings he answered.

'Ahem. Hello?' His voice seemed lower.

``Hey. It's Sam, how are ya?''

'Nnnn...' He groaned.

``You okay?''

'Yeah, I think I'm coming down with something...I think that baby got me sick.'

``Oh...I'm sorry. That sucks...'' Bree gave a questioning look and Sam put her hand on the phone. ``He's sick.'' She whispered. Bree's face turned sour and she walked into the bedroom. Sam sighed and put the phone back to her ear. ``How bad is it?''

'Just a raw throat and a funny feeling in my head...kinda stuffy nose, ya know all that beginning stages crap.' He cleared his throat again and she sighed.

``Well, take some Zicam. That might help.''

'Maybe...' He kept quiet and she felt uncomfortable.

``I could bring some soup over.'' She joked.

'Nah, don't want you to get sick. That's a nice offer though. Thanks.'

``No problem.''

'Want my address?' He asked outta nowhere.

``Hmm?''

'I was thinkin' that it was only fair, since I know yours. And someday I might take you up on that soup.' He giggled.

She thought about it and smiled. Why not? ``Okay, sure!'' After he gave her his address he excused himself off the phone. She hoped he wouldn't get too sick...

It was two days later and he hadn't called. So when she got off work, at five because Kate had a school function, and settled into home she called him again. When he answered he was awful sounding. He was hoarse, which was horrifying to think of HIM losing his VOICE, and coughed a lot. He sounded miserable. She felt so bad about it that she decided that even if she risked getting sick, she would give him some TLC.

So she made up a batch of Grandma Nikki's chicken noodle soup and packed it up to travel. Bree offered for Summer to give her a ride but Sam didn't want another person that she didn't really know knowing Patrick Stump's address.

She took the bus and had to walk for five minutes to get the rest of the way. She let out some air when she saw the nice neighborhood he lived in. It wasn't Hollywood style, although there were swimming pools in all the backyards, and the houses weren't huge mansions, though they were pretty big.

It was quiet and peaceful. It was around six thirty now and Sam hoped she wasn't being rude. Also, they had only knew each other a little over two weeks. Friday would mark the three week mark on when they first met. Was this weird? She could just leave it and go back home. That was friendly enough. She sighed and looked for his address. She had written it on her hand to remember it and smiled when she saw his house. It was cute and seemed very suburban and simple.

She walked up the steps and rang the bell with her elbow. It took a few minutes and he finally answered. He was wearing a black beaner--how adorable that he still wore a hat even when he was sick--a robe and sweats. His nose was pink and his eyes looked tired. He looked shocked and opened the screen door.

``I was worried and decided that you could use this.'' She held out the bowl and he still looked confused. ``I know you told me no, but...I don't have to stay, but just eat this. It does wonders. Trust me.'' He sniffled and raised his eyebrow. ``This is weird isn't it? Like, stalker weird? I get the clue...I'll get going...'' She turned around and he spoke.

``How did you get here?'' His voice sounded worse than it did on the phone and it made her heart pinch.

``The bus...'' She answered as she met his gaze again.

He swallowed. ``You carried a bowl of soup on the bus and walked here with it...for me?''

Her eyes darted around. ``Yeah...''

A genuine smiled curled on his lips and his eyes got some light in them. ``I think I'll eat it now.''

She grinned and he stepped aside for her to step in. She couldn't help that fangirl creeping up on her as she took in his house. Mostly it was white, or that was the main color. There were tons of albums and movies all over the place. He had a big DVD collection and an awesome stereo setup. She squashed the fangirl and looked back at him as he swished by to the kitchen.

``It got kinda cold, could I heat it up?'' She asked as she followed him.

``Yeah.'' His hoarse voice rang.

She spooned some in a small bowl and nuked it in the microwave. As soon as it was done she gave it to him.

``Thanks...Mom.'' He joked. She rolled her eyes and sat down. ``You'll have to disinfect yourself when you get home.''

``Please, I'll be lucky if Bree doesn't soak me with Lysol the instant I walk in the door.''

He giggled a little and took in a spoonful. He looked surprised and swallowed. ``Whoa...really good.''

``Yup. Nana Nikki was the best cook.'' She looked thoughtful and he took another spoonful. She smiled at him and got up.

``I should get going. I just wanted you to have that.'' He swallowed again and looked hurt.

``Oh.'' Was his response.

``Oooor...I could stay awhile...'' She sat back down and he fumbled with his spoon.

``Nah, I really don't want you to get this crap. It's pretty bad. I mean, listen to me.'' He cleared his throat and took a bite.

``A couple of minutes won't hurt me. It's not like I'm gonna lick your couch.'' She joked and he smiled.

After he finished his soup she put the rest in the fridge. He looked more happy and his eyes didn't look so tired anymore. She went to the living room and saw that he had a DVD in his player. ``Shouldn't do that, it could ruin your discs.'' She scolded at him, mirroring what he said about CDs.

``Haha, I was watching The Phantom Menace. Like Star Wars?'' He sat down and she joined, only right on the edge of the couch, kinda a germaphobe thing to do which was laughable now.

``Not so much. Never seen any of them.'' His mouth dropped and she blinked. ``I don't know Star Trek either if that makes you feel better.''

He grunted and started the DVD back up. It was during the race and she had to admit it looked pretty cool. He sneezed into a tissue and she had to hide the urge to scoot away. After a few minutes she had found out from him the whole Star Wars universe.

Before she knew it she had watched the rest of the movie. She looked over and he was dead asleep. His mouth was open and he was kinda snoring. Sick people never look attractive when they sleep, but damn if he didn't look cute! His little pink nose...

She stood up and smiled. That's when she noticed the sweat on his brow. She put her hand to his forehead and gasped. He was burning up! What should she do? Her phone rang and she knew her sister must be psychic.

'How's it going?' Bree asked.

``He's really hot! What should I do?''

'Ply him with wine?'

Ugh. ``No, you moron, he's got a fever and he's out cold! What do I do?''

'Oh, my. I don't know. Find a way to take his temperature and then go from there.'

``I need a thermometer. I wonder if he has one.''

'Bathroom.'

Sam ran to the bathroom and tore open his medicine cabinet like a crazed junkie. She looked over everything before she found an unused thermometer. ``Got it.'' She ran back to the couch and put it under his tongue. She had to close his mouth and hold it shut for two minutes. He didn't appear to like that and had some trouble breathing, what with his stuffy nose. When it beeped she took it out and promptly screamed.

'What?!' Bree screamed on the other side.

``He just coughed on me.''

A few seconds of silence ticked by. 'I'll stop by the drug store tomorrow. What does it say?'

``103. That's bad isn't it?'' Bree sighed on the other end.

'Yeah...and if he's alone...I'm sorry to say this Sammie, but It looks like your gonna have to play doctor with Patrick.'

``Oh, God...''

Getting him up the stairs was a task, since he was totally unconscious, and getting him in the bed was half the fun. When she had time to breathe she sat down on the other side of the bed and sighed heavily. She was definitely gonna get sick from this, no matter what Bree bought at the drug store, and that didn't seem like fun. Still, she was really worried about him, 103 wasn't good at all.

He moaned in his sleep and she took off his beaner, since it was soaked. She ran his hair through her fingers. Guess she was spendin' the night.

In a few hours he woke up. He looked confused and disoriented. ``Hey, it's okay. You got a fever and I was worried about you. So I stayed. REALLY stalker weird now, huh?'' She chuckled.

``Why'd you leave?'' He asked in a dreamy state.

She frowned in confusion. ``I didn't. I stayed.''

``No, you left...'' He moaned. ``Why? Why did you leave me? Why wasn't I good enough...?'' Aw, man, this was soap opera movie type stuff! She could only assume it was the fever talking.

She tried to calm him down. ``You ARE good enough, Patrick...I don't know what you're talking about but I'm not leaving you.''

``Really? So...it was all a mistake?'' He asked, his voice cracking a little.

She decided to go with it and rubbed his forehead. ``Yes, it was all a mistake.''

He sighed in relief. ``I knew it. I knew you'd come back to me. Don't ever leave me again....I love you...'' She gasped.

``W-what? You love me?'' Was this shit really happening?!

``I've always...loved you...Katie.........'' He passed out and Sam was left alone in the silence.

``Katie?'' She asked the air. ``Who the hell is Katie?''

*----------*

Morning came and he felt like a frog went and died in his mouth. He smacked his lips and sat up, removing the large amount of crust in both his eyes. Why is it when you're sick everything gets gross? Perhaps that's why they call it ``sick.''

He looked to his side and noticed that a female was in his bed. It was Sam. Whoa, that was weird. Did he get drunk last night? Both him and her were fully clothed so, no on that. Why was she here? He looked at his side table and saw his glasses, his hat and a thermometer. A thermometer? Was he running a fever? All questions would be answered because she was waking up.

``Ahh!'' She yelled when she saw him staring at her.

``I thought that too. What happened last night?''

``You were running a 103 degree fever. I stayed because I was worried about you. I musta fallen asleep...''

``Musta, yeah.'' He nodded, getting his glasses.

``Sorry...'' She apologized.

``Actually, that's kinda sweet. I didn't know you cared for me so much...'' His voice sounded better as he teased with a flirtatious nature. All that fell by the wayside as she remembered what he had said hours earlier. ``I didn't...babble in my feverish state did I? 'Cause if I did, I may have to kill you.''

She chuckled a little and shook her head. ``Nope. Sound asleep the whole night.''

``You're gonna get sick.'' He stated.

``Yeah, I know. But it was worth it.'' She smiled.

``How so? To see me at my worst? Yeah, that's wonderful.'' He took off his robe and put his beaner back on.

``Yes, that's it. Now I can laugh at you endlessly for days.'' He glared at her and she giggled. ``I just wanted to help you out. You helped me with Bree, I figured the least I could do is watch over you and make sure you didn't die.''

``The very least.'' He smiled. ``I'm gonna take a shower. It won't hurt my feelings if you go home...Omigosh don't you need to go to work?''

``Yeah, the place isn't doing well, I could call in sick...though I'll need that next week.'' He shuddered and ran in the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and pondered who that name was.

She felt the urge to be evil and wandered around the house. She knew that she was looking for photo albums and when she found one she pretended to be surprised, yet she was all alone. She laughed at her stupidity and reached for the album. She opened it up and saw lots of pictures of people she didn't know. And lots of girls. Which one was Katie? Was it this pretty brunette? The pretty redhead? Man, they were ALL pretty. She made it through half the album and she must have been there looking longer than she thought.

``What are you doing?''

~TBC











 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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