Gerard is forced to face his fear.
After Gerard has had his bath, he looks refreshed and certanly smells it. We spend the rest of the evening watching TV. I call Ray, although there isn't that much to report. Gerard just seems pleased to be sitting on the couch and doing something normal. By 10pm he has fallen asleep on my shoulder. I don't want to wake him, so I try picking him up and carrying him to bed, but fail miseribly and end up droping him back on the couch.
"Frank... Wha.." He mumbles.
"Sorry, I was trying to carry you to bed so you wouldn’t have to wake up.” I giggle.
"Oh, that’s okay, can we go to bed now?"
"Sure, c'mon." I say, grabbing his hand. Once we get to my room he gets
into bed and settles down.
"Frank?" he whispers, looking at me through his huge hazel eyes. His pale skin almost seems to glow in the dim light.
"Can you sleep here tonight?" He says in his soft tone, “It’s just... last night when I had a nightmare.. You were there, I always have nightmares and I can never get back to sleep again, but this time I could.”
“Of course I’ll sleep here.” I say, smiling, I don’t mind sleeping in the same bed as Gerard, nope, not one bit. He rests his head on my shoulder and falls asleep almost instantly.
Gerard stays at my house for the next few days. He seems happy enough, although his physical condition doesn’t improve much, the wound on his leg hasn’t got any better, if anything its got worse, he still gets tired very easily and although he has had plenty of sleep, he still has the purple bags under his eyes.
I also find out he has tonnes of bruises covering his chest and stomach, all in different stages of healing. Not for the first time I feel a blinding sense of rage towards the people that did this to him. I’m so worried about him, I ask multiple times if he will agree to going to the doctors, every time he shakes his head and I see tears form in his eyes, I will never understand Gerard’s fear of hospitals, it’s completely self-destructive, but I hate to see him upset, so I don’t press the matter any further.
On the morning of the fourth day, I wake up to see Gerard lying in bed with a pained expression on his face,
“what’s wrong?” I inquire. He tries to sit up but fails and collapses back on the mattress, running a shaky hand through his hair.
“I don’t feel to good Frank.” Now I can get a good look at him I realise he does look ill, even more so than usual. His cheeks a flushed, and he is shivering. I put the back of my hand on his forehead to see check his temperature.
“Oh my God! You’re burning up, I think you have a fever.” I exclaim. There’s no doubt about it, I have to take him to hospital now and make sure he gets better, the alternative is just to awful to think about. “Oh, Gerard… I’m gonna have to take you to hospital, I’m sorry.” He frowns and nods dejectedly.
“Will they hurt me?” He asks in a small voice. Tears form in his eyes.
“No, of course they won’t. What makes you think that?”
“They’re gonna inject me with stuff aren’t they?” The tears flow freely now. “I don’t like needles.” I sigh inwardly, of course. Of course he doesn’t like needles. Three guesses why.
“Yes, maybe they will have to inject you...” I begin, he flinches at my words, “But they’re only doing it to make you better, and I’ll be with you the whole time. And anyway. would I take you to people who would hurt you?”
“No,” He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t, I know that.”
“Well, you know you’ll be okay them.” I smile and he manages a faint one back.
Gerard is still shivering so I give him a blanket; I know you’re meant to keep people with a fever either cold or warm. One or the other, I think it’s warm. I help him up, putting an arm around his waist; he leans on me heavily. All the way to the hospital he rests his head against the window, looking like he’s in deep pain.
I can’t drive fast enough. We finally arrive and I quickly park up in the hospital car park, and then rush around to the other side of the car to get Gerard out. I hold him up as we stagger across the tarmac towards the main entrance. He’s getting weaker by the second.
When we get inside Gerard sits down on a waiting room chair as I go to the desk. I have no idea what I’m going to say but at this particular moment I have more important things on my mind than how awkward I’m going to sound.
“Um, excuse me,” I say to the bored looking woman in front of me. “My friend is really ill… he has some sort of fever.. but he has other injuries too and he’s in a really bad, er, way,” I say gesturing towards Gerard who has near enough passed out on the plastic seat.
“What’s his name?” asks the woman
“Gerard Way.” She types something in to her keyboard.
“A Doctor should be able to take a look at him in about an hour.” She says, not even bothering to put on a fake smile. An hour!? He can’t wait that long! Just as I’m about to tell this woman exactly what I think, I have a moment of sanity long enough to realise there’s other people that need seeing to and there’s probably nothing she can do.
Sighing in defeat I walk back to Gerard and plonk down in the seat next to him. He puts his head on my shoulder and I put a comforting arm around him.
“Hang in there Gerard, you’ll feel better soon.” But I don’t think he hears, he’s already passed out and dribbling down my shoulder.