After a long wait, passports, security checks, Tyson's shots, we were in a plane heading for Mexico. I sat on the window seat, Patrick next to me, and Pete next to him. Andy and Joe were behind us, sleeping. I watched the clouds passing by, and felt the urge to touch them. "Pppsstt Patrick," I whispered. He turned in my direction, opening an eye. "How many times have you been on a plane?" I asked, astonished by the feeling and scenery. He smiled and rested his head back on seat, closing his eye. "Many," was his response. "Woah," was mine.

The flight was short, three hours at most. We landed, the airline telling us to have a great time in Mexico. Since we were landing at around 6 am, I saw the beautiful sunrise. And a small dog. And a man selling churros. And a small boy dancing around.

I giggled and Patrick said, "Cora, let's go!" He held out his hand, which I took, and we walked to the car waiting for us. We all fit into the car waiting us, and I stared out as we passed the city. Culture was everywhere. I saw little kids playing, some with yo yos, cheap dolls (which was pretty much my childhood dolls), balls, and small toy trumpets. I saw the stands selling tacos, and tamales and a whole lot of Mexican food I recognized. I saw stores selling images of the Virgin Mary,  or La Virgin De Guadalupe.

We got to our hotel, to be honest I was exhausted, and I was holding on to my backpack, suitcase, and Tyson trying not to fall asleep. There were fans surrounding the hotel, and it was a hassle getting in. I smiled politely at all of them, even though I really just wanted to glare at them and tell them to move over. When we finally checked into our room, Patrick said, "Okay, we'll stay here for two days. Uh, guys, we need to go to do sound check. " I groaned,  and said, "Can I stay here?" "No." "Okay," I rolled off of the bed I was in. I left Tyson some food and water, and followed the guys to the venue. I stared sleepily at the sight.

As the band and I arrived at the venue, I felt slightly more awake. Joe and Pete had me translate for them. "Te amo!" "She says she loves you." I waved and talked to some fans while the guys did sound check. Janet was my babysitter. "Cora, don't step too close to the railing, what'd Patrick tell you?" "Aw, come on, I'm just saying hi." "Yeah, but remember-" The flashback came back, we were in Kansas,  and I was talking to some fans. All of them knew not to be handsy and touch me. But, I wasn't like that. I'd highfive, hug, poke (friendly, like on the cheek) , and even some kisses on the cheek for fans who wanted different pictures. Janet was watching over me, advising me not to jump over the railing, which I was on. I lost my grip and fell over the railing (Don't ask me how, I just did!). A girl who wore a Panic! T-shirt helped me up and asked me if I was okay. I was, but Janet made a whole big deal of a bruise on my forehead. It wasn't even that big!

"It won't happen again!" "Sure, but what about-" Second flashback, I was helping Janet with some boxes of posters. I was climbing some steps, " 'Kay, where do you want these?" "I'll lead you. Hey, do you-" Midway through Janet's sentence, I took a step foward, only to find that there wasn't a step there, and hit my shin against the cement. "Ooww!" I goraned rubbing my shin, leaving the box of posters to the side. "What? Cora, not again," she said. She lifted up my pants leg to find a small cut. She sighed and opened her water bottle and poured it on my leg.

"It was an accident! I didn't see the step wasn't there!" Her blue eyes widened and she said, "I was speaking of Detroit, but that's another good example." I cringed, thinking of Detroit. We were wrapping up for the day, and I was walking around, helping Janet (I helped her alot). "Yo, what else you need help with?" I said, wiping sweat from my brow. "Um, that's all. You can go back now," she said looking through her list of inventory. I nodded and walked out to the bus. BZZ. BBZZZ. I tunred around, and saw a bee. "No!" I ran to the bus. I slipped on gravel, and fell face first on the floor. Then I felt a sting on the back of my arm. Janet ran to me, helped me up, and took out the bee sting. I didn't cry, just stared at it in disbelief.

"Okay, okay!" She smiled as I stepped down from the railing. I sneezed many times, which Janet replied with, "Bless you, gesundheit, salud, salute." I felt out of energy from sneezing.  "I would've continued, but those are all the languages I know how to say bless you in," she said. I shuddered, and nodded. After a few pictures, she took me to the dresser. I crashed on the couch and fell asleep.

When I woke up, there was knocking on the door. I opened it to find Soren and Louis there. "Hey," I said as I fanned myself. I woke up and my head was hurting. Ugh. "Cora, where's Patrick?" My throat felt weird, kinda ticklish. I cleared my throat, but that didn't work. "Uhh," I grabbed a waterbottle and drank a bit, it somewhat helped. "Sound check maybe? Or meet and greet. I don't know." I sneezed and sat down. "You okay? You don't look so hot," Louis said. "Thanks, here was I believing I was gorgeous, and you just made my world fall down," I said sarcastically. I used my arm to cover my eyes, the light suddenly too bright. A hand was placed on my forehead and the coolness of the hand was a relief. "You are definitely burning up." I wasn't sure if it was Soren or Louis who said that.

"Oh, that's wonderful. Please, go inform the media so I get boxes of chocolate and tissues," I said, not really paying attention to what I was saying. "Yep, she's not okay," one of them said. "I think we have Tylenol somewhere through here," I said standing up. My head was hurting more, and I looked quickly througn the bags we had. "'Kay, we don't have that. I think I'm gonna take a nap." They looked at me with worry and nodded. They left and I tried to sleep, but the head ache coughing aches made it almost impossible.

After who knows how long, I heard the door open. I opened my eyes slightly to see Patrick crouching next to me, and stared at me for a moment. "Hello," I croaked. He nodded, and left without saying a word. I got a runny nose, and used the the tissues that were there. I sneezed, coughed, and dropped my tissue. I groaned, trying to pick up the tissue from the couch.

After a while of misery, I fell asleep. I woke up again to see Joe staring at me. I groaned, streching. "Yeah, she definitely has a cold," Joe said. Patrick nodded again. Then he proceeded to make a gesture with his hands, like drinking something. Joe cocked his head. Patrick held up a finger, grabbed a notebook, and wrote something down. "What's up with him?" I asked, my voice coming out raspy. "He's on vocal rest until tonight." I nodded, not wanting to use my voice too much since it hurt to speak.

My Dad held up the notebook that said We need medicine. Joe went out of the room, to get medicine, but I wasn't sure at the time. Patrick sat next to me, brushing my hair to the side.  My head rested on his lap. His hand rested on my head as I coughed and sneezed. "I don't like this," I said sniffing. He just patted my head once more. "Did the brain name itself?" I asked out loud. Patrick stared at me confused. "Well think about it, the brain named itself technically. " He just shook his head with a half smile and patted my head once more.

After a while of coughing and sneezing, Joe came in with a bottle of medicine for the average cold. Cherry flavored, yay. I took a sip of it, and laid back down on the couch. Joe had also bought soup, how he brought it back here, I don't know but am thankful he did. Patrick fed me the soup, although I protested I couod feed myself. "I can eat it," I said trying to take the bowl of alphabet soup from him. He shook his head furiously and held the bowl far from me. "C'mon dad, just hand it over, go practice or something." Patrick handed Joe the soup, and grabbed the notebook, writing furiously. No. I sighed defeated. He fed me, doing little loops and turn with the spoon as if it were an airplane. "Thanks," I croaked, the only thing bothering me was my throat now.

I laid back down and tried to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

^(A/N: Hehe that's fun.)

I woke up to feel myself being lifted. I opened my eyes to see slightly what was happening. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Andy's neck tattoos. My finger trailed Andy's tattoos, which made him jump a little. "You woke up," he noticed. I nodded, resting my head again on his shoulder. "You wanna walk?" I shook my head, wrapping my arms around him. I was too tired to be walking, and not to metion I felt a little dizzy. Ew. A dislike for colds was suddenly forming at that moment.

Andy chuckled, and continued to carry me to wherever he was taking me. When I felt him stop, I opened my eyes again to see a car parked in front of us. Patrick, Joe, and Pete were already there. He let me down, which let me rub my eyes. I opened the door and stepped inside. I put on the seat belt and rested my head on the side of the door. "Are you feeling better, Cora?" Pete asked. "Yeah," I murmured. "Cool."

The drive to the hotel was quiet, except for a few remarks from Pete about wanting to go visit some places and Joe reminding me I needed sleep. "No, to right ahead and . . . visit things I'll just . . . wait in the car.  Yeah, that sounds . . . Nice." I tried to snuggle into the door, but that didn't work. "Yeah, she needs sleep," Pete said. I shook my head, but was too tired to say anything.

When we got to the hotel, I crashed on my bed. Tyson whined in his cage, but Patrick let him out, and he came and laid with me. "Good boy," I said as I hugged him. Patrick put his arms around me, which made me feel all cozy and much less cold. "Good boy," I repeated as I took off his fedora and put it on the the small luttle table next to the bed. "Go to sleep," Patrick said, his voice cracking. I giggled and fell asleep with my Dad and dog. In other words, my family.

Sometime later, I was awaken when I felt cold water dripping down my face. Patrick was pressing a cold towel that was wet on my head. "You were burning up, it went down a little." I groaned and said, "Gracias, papa." I took deep breathes trying to relax and hoped the feeling of throwing up would fade. It didn't, and I ran to the bathroom.

When I came back, Patrick said, "We might have to postpone school until you get better." I groaned in response and climbed back into bed, the fever was gone now, but the runny nose came back. I sniffed and Patrick handed me a tissue box. "Thanks, " I said after I sneezed into a tissue. "It's my job to take care of you," he said as he placed the towel back into the bathroom. I nodded, I couldn't think of anything else to say.

Patrick sat on his bed watching over me. I looked at the clock on the wall whcih said it was 4:59 am. I groaned, again , and I turned over to Patrick who was on his phone. I shifted to stare at Tyson's fur. "Hey Elisa," Patrick said. My eyes widened. They're talking! Yes!!! "How are you?" My eyelids started to drop, but I tried not to sleep. "That's great! Oh, yeah, well, Cora's sick. She's had a fever since we got here. Sure, I'll pass her to you." My heart missed a beat when I heard that. "Cora, Elisa wants to talk to you," Patrick said looming over me. I grabbed the phone and put it to my face. "I'm gonna take a quick shower." Patrick ran to the bathroom and locked it and instantaneously the shower turned on. I took a deep breath.

"H-hello?" Great. Perfect, Cora. "Hey, Cora. It's Elisa. Remember me?" What do I say? Do I try to be funny? Do I act sick? Sweet? Innocent? I should just say it how'd I normally say something. But how's that!? "Yeah, pretty sure you're Patrick's wife, and the love of his life. And I also remember we meet like two months ago, before you Mom got sick, how is she? Is she okay now?" What. The. Fuck. Cora. "Aw, how sweet. Anyways, yeah, my Mom's fine now. She had to go through surgery yesterday, but in two weeks she'll be able to go back home. So I'll be coming back earlier than expected. How are you feeling? I heard you're sick?" Coming back earlier, two weeks, oh my God. "Uh, yeah, I think I got sick from the prank we did yesterday." "Prank?" I laughed. "Uhh, I may or may not have planned a prank on Fall Out Boy, which involved water ballons on stage. And I may or may not have gotten New Politics and Panic! to help me," I said cautiously.

She laughed. Score! "No way, Cora, did you actually do that?" I smiled, nodded, covering my face with my hand. "Yes, the thing is, I planned the prank with New Politics like in the beginning of tour, so they never found  out even when we discussed it," I said. "What else did you do?" I told her of all the pranks that went down in tour, and the bets, and the time we went to the beach. "You think you can send me the pictures?" She asked, laughing.

"Yeah, this is your phone number, right?" "Yeah." "Okay, let me send them to you through my phone." I giggled and said, "Hey, did Patrick tell you about the dog?" "He showed me a picture of you and a Saint Bernard. " I laughed again. "He did not tell you the full story, Elisa . . . " I told her about how Tyson came into our lives, and she told me that she couldn't believe Pete could not between humans entering and dogs.

"Voilà, the pictures are sent." "Thank you." Patrick came out of the shower drying his hair with a towel. "Oh, Patrick's back, I'm gonna give the phone bacj to him okay?  Nice talking to you, Elisa. Bye." "Bye, Cora," she said and I passed the phone to Patrick who was smiling.

I took a shower, which helped my stuffed nose. I came out of the restroom wearing black skinny jeans and an All TimeLow shirt. Patrick beamed. "You look better," he said, "I feel like shit," I replied. My nose was still stuffed.

He nodded and said, "You can stay, if you'd like . . . " I tried to breath as a sneeze suddenly appeared. "Uh, what do you want me to do?" "Hu?" "What would be easier for you; for me to stay or for me to go with you?" He looked confused. "Whatever you want is fine with me," he said. I stood up and said, "I'm going." "You sure? Cause I don't want you to get more sick or in discomfort."

"Nope, I am going, " I said. I grabbed a few tissues and we were in the car with the guys "Hey, you okay ,Cora?" Andy asked. I shrugged and leaned my head on the Window. Pete put his hand on my forehead and said,  "You're good." I sighed and sneezed. I tried to calm myself, and put on ky best smile.

As we past next building, I was marveled with everything I saw. I saw a couple holding hands eating ice cream. I saw siblings play soccer together on the streets. I saw a few little kids stare at us and one called out the word, "Gringo." Which was kinda a word for white people. We passed what looked like a forest, but after asking the driver, it was actually a park. Deeper into the woods, there was a playground and several tables. If I wasn't sick, and tired, and had time, I'd would've gone.

Andy was searching through his backpack, and tossed me an orange. "Eat it, it's good for you," he said. "Thanks," I said, trying to peel it. Sadly, I had just my nails like 5 days before so it was no use. After Joe watching me for five minutes, he rolled his eyes, and greabbed the orange from me. He peeled it a little and passed it back to me. "Thanks," I mumbled, embarrassed.

I ate the orange as we entered the venue, girls yelling at all sides. My head started to hurt, but I died down when I sat in the dresser. I sat on the couch while the guys did there own thing when there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Pete asked, while spraying a shit load of colon. "Brendon," his voice yelled kinda sing song like. "Alright, come in." The room was intoxicated with Pete's expensive colon. Brendon came in with a smile, but it turned into a sour face when he entered. "Is that colon?" "Yep, Pete decided he wanted to smell nice," I said. Of course, I sounded sick. Brendon plopped down on the couch and said, "Aw, I heard you were sick?" "You heard correctly, the Cora who hasn't been sick in months suddenly gets a cold and is now knocked down from her spot of awesome tour buddy to a burden." Brendon patted my head. "It's okay. You'll get better," he said. "No I won't.  When I get sick, I get sick. It lasts forever," I said sniffling. Brendon made a pouty face and then said, "Well you guys, I've been planning a party. There's a beautiful restaurant down the street, after the show, you guys wanna go?" Pete, Andy, and Joe all agreed instantaneously. But Patrick denied. "Why not?" "I have to take care of Cora, she-" I stood up. "HOLD UP!Patrick a word with you outside." I said, leaving the room.

Patrick came out looking confused. "Patrick you are going to that party." "No, I have to take care-" "Patrick listen to me, you have been taking care of me for the entire tour. You are going." "When did I take care of you? You spent most of your time alone on the tour bus!" "Well, that was because you had to do tour stuff. Look, I'm just sick. All I need is some soup, tissues, and a disney movie and I'll be better. Okay? You go to that party/restaurant and you have fun okay? Anyways, it'll be good to have some alone time away from the guys. I did spend my entire summer hanging out with men, I think it's time for some Cora time," I said looking him straight in the eye. He considered this for a moment and said, "Are tou sure?" I nodded, not breaking eye contact. "Okay. " I cheered.

We entered and I said, "He's going. " I plopped on the couch, taking my phone back in my hands. "Great," Brendon said getting up. He left without any other word.

I'd have love to say that I spent the last day of tour partying, hanvihg fun, etc. But that'd be lying. Patrick and the guys were gettung ready at the hotel. I sat on my bed, tissues everywhere. Patrick had room service bring soup. Apparently soup was a great thing for when sick.

Before he left, he kissed my forehead,  and said, "Are you sure you don't want me to stay? We can watch movies, and other stuff." I felt my heart moved by his compassion. "Nah, go have fun. I'm probably going to pass out any minute." He nodded, kissed my head again, told me to call if I needed anything, and left.

Now this is the part where you all are thinking, But Cora does something awesome to pass time right? Like prank calls Paramore, or something? Sadly, I didn't do anything, besides be sick. I coughed, sneezed, and watched some Mexican Soap Operas.

I was trying to sleep around 11 when I started to worry about Elisa. How would she react to me? How do I act with me? What if I didn't like her, or she didn't like me? I'm 99.9% sure Patrick would listen to Elisa and get rid of me if I gave a good reason. Am I bratty? I mean, I guess I can act arrogant at times, but it's always to make people laugh . . . Oh, but what if she's like the evil step mom type? I don't think she is, she seems great, but I am one of the reason she and her husband took a break so . . .

Butterflies filled in my stomach, mostly from imagining meeting her. Tyson climbed into bed with me.

But somehow, between the sniffles and coughs, I feel asleep.

~~~~~~~~

PATRICK'S POV

Joe got drunk, and so did Pete . . . And Brendon . . . And Soren. Andy helped take Pete to his room, and I helped Joe to his. "Okay, shhh, don't wake the neighbors," I said. "Alllrriigghht," Joe slurred. I fumbled for the key in Joe's pocket, which made him giggle and swat my hand. "Patrick, stop it. I can get it myself."  He got out the key, and tried to open the door, but to no avail. I grabbed the key from his hand and opened it. He tried to walk in, but stumbled and fell. I sighed and picked him up.

I helped him to his bed, and tried to take off his boats since I didn't think he was going to last much longer awake.  He kept moving and I snapped saying, "Stay still, Joe! I have to get back to Cora!" "Cora . . . Cora . . . " He mumbled. "Ah, yes, Cora! Did you know she feels guilty that you and Elisa broke up? Wait, you're married , you didn't break up," he chuckled. "What?" I asked shocked. "Yeah," he said slowly, "when tour started she told me how she felt it was all her fault. Seriously Patrick, bro, don't adopt a child if you're gonna make her feel bad. Bad, bad, bad."

I felt shocked. "I didn't- I never knew she- I mean, oh." Joe suddenly sat up, and put a finger to my mouth. "But, don't tell her I told you. She made me promise not to tell, ssshhhhh." I nodded.

He passed out soon after I took off his other shoe. "Don't drink so much next time," I mumbled as I closed the door.

My head was spinning. How could she think that? This wasn't her fault, but how could I let her believe that? I mean, she obviously doesn't think that anymore, right? I sighed.

I opened the door to my room and Cora was passed out on the bed. I sighed again and sat on the edge of the bed staring at her. She looked so calm asleep. Besides the red nose, she had a smile. How could this little girl who had to live with a depressed mom for 7 years be so happy now? Did we actually make her happy? Is she lying, faking it for us? No, she likes living with us. Everytime she smiled. Everytime she took on a bet. Everytime she decided to joing in on a prank. There is no way that is fake.

But I still made her sad. Wait . . . She knew that Elisa and I took a break? Did she listen to the fight that night? I hit my head with my hand. She did. I couldn't believe that I didn't put two and two together. She didn't feel guilty anymore right?

I fell asleep wondering.

Author's note:
Gracias for reading nice readers. This one's a little short, but I'll work on the next right away. Thank you to everyone who reads. Vote, comment, share. CX