Wouldn't It Be Nice To Wake Up With You

I have no idea why, but I woke up in a bed all snuggled in. I pulled the covers up to around my face and stared at the cold white curtains in front of me. Yesterday's feelings rushed right back into my body system. I started coughing uncontrollably. Joe walked into the room and sat down on the bed and felt my forehead.

"Yeah, Peter, you're getting worse," he sighed sadly, "We oughta bring you back home, but I don't think they'll let us since you're sick."

I could think of many ways to take that. I was physically sick. I was also mentally sick. Heck, I think I'm sick like in the "Dude, that was some sick riffs!" Though, I think he was talking of the first one. He pulled up his sleeve and checked his watch.

"I wonder where Patrick is..." he frowned at the sight of the time.

He didn't know yet. I don't think Andy does either. I flipped the rest of the comforter over my head and a shiver ran down my spine. Joe started to rub my back like if I was a little kid again.

"Try to sleep this off and I'll go make some soup or tea..."

He left the room and I pushed at my head. A headache was starting to come on and I wasn't in the mood for it. I knew that as soon as I told Joe what happened that he'd leave me too. Andy would probably walk right out that door with him. Then no one will take care of me when I'm sooo low and --a yawn escaped through my thoughts-- I'll die here. All by myself.

"All by myself.." I sang hoarsely and cried.

"Woah, no singing." Joe said, walking back in the room.

"Joe I know what made me so sick," I whimpered.

"There's a ton of reasons why you're sick, not just one; I think I can list," he sat down next to me, "There's the fact you never have any proper sleep or food, plus jetlag, let's not forget Andy and I found you on the floor, and the fact that you slept with Jenny and Patrick leaving you like that, oh yeah, that's a major."

I shot up and looked at him wildly, "How in the world did you know?!"

"Oh please, the three of us saw this coming. Quite frankly, I'm suprised Patrick didn't murder you on the plane ride here. Mike let us in on it. He's so bad at secrets."

"That motherfu-" I muttered darkly.

"Joe!" Andy hollered, "Patrick's back with the tea!"

"Patrick?" I questioned.

"Yeah, see the whole walking out on you was part of the plan," we just didn't know you'd black out on the floor and decide to die on us," Joe smirked, "And don't think you're off the hook just yet. Patrick will need to talk to you soon."

"What about Patrick?" 'Trick replied as he walked into the room.

I turned my body around, no matter how much it ached, and saw him standing there. His bags were right next to the bed, as if they never left. I looked at him and he just stared at me. Yeah, I guess I deserve that look.

"Hey chief," my scratchy voice barely made any sound, but he heard me.

"How's the pain Wentz?" he asked.

"Baaaad," I whined.

"Good."

He walked out and yelled back into the room, "I'll make the tea."

"I wonder how he still loves you after all that shit you pulled Pete," Joe laughed.

"It's a mystery. A beautiful -cough cough- miracle sent to me -weeze-"

"Okay okay, stop with the talking because it sounds narsty."