I stood in the middle of the living room of the bus, motionless. Paramedics were running in towards the toilet and trying to get it open, Mikey was tearfully trying to explain to them what had happened but he couldn't, he just stuttered and stuttered until he broke, sobbing into his hands silently, afraid. I so desperately wanted to comfort him but something was keeping me from moving. Guilt.
Time is moving slower than usual, I'm sure of it. Fast movements become blurs of colour and swirls of shape, joining endlessly to the unmoving structure of the bus. My head is filled with worry and anxiety. What if he's dead?
But Frankie can't be dead.
If he is it's your fucking fault!
I never meant to hurt him!
Well you did.
Don't you think I know that!?
I think you'd better face the consequences.
'WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!' I scream before I can stop myself. The blurs have stopped and a rather shocked looking paramedic is stood in front of me, her deep blue eyes gnawing into mine. I look away immediately and blush.
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell.'
'Its okay Mr.Way, I can understand you're distressed. We just wondered if you're coming with us to the hospital?' My heart sped up. I should. I should go with them, with Frankie, but...what if he wakes up and sees me and doesn't want me there? What if he yells at me? He wont want me there, he'll want Ray or Mikey, not me.
She's staring up at me expectantly. I sigh.
'I-No, no I don't want to come. I think my brother should go instead.'
'Okay Mr.Way,' she said, 'I hope you're okay.' She walks off towards Mikey who's just beginning to calm down. A feel my heart pang at the thought of Frankie being angry with me, the thought that I made him want to.....do that. I sink to the floor and sigh deeply, willing the tears not to fall.
The ambulance is shaky. Very shaky and the nurse is looking at me like a five year who's lost their mummy, patronising with false sympathy. My stomach feel like is going through a blender, twisting and turning like abandoned country roads. I don't even know if I can bare to look at Franks unconscious body anymore. His eyes are closed but I still remember seeing his usually bright, childlike brown eyes look dead and old. It makes me shiver as tears begin to form again. He would do this to himself because of Gerard? I had no idea Gerard meant so much to him. I guess I should have seen it. He's in love with him, that much is obvious, but I thought he would at least stay alive for his wife and child? I guess I was wrong.
The shaking stopped. I looked up into the eyes of the paramedic.
'We're here, Mr.Way, we need to get Mr.Iero out if the ambulance so if you wouldn't mind stepping out first.' I nod silently and quickly exit the ambulance, not glancing back at Frank.
I walk silently down the sterile, white corridors of the hospital following the paramedics and nurses who are wheeling Franks bed ahead of me. They direct him into a room and warn me to stay outside for a few minutes. I oblige and wait for the door to shut, consumed by the silence and distant sounds of pain and death. I've always hated hospitals.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
That's all I can hear. Steady, high pitched and monotone. Terrifying. I'm not dead, it didn't work. I have to go on living a lie, pretending I'm not in love with my best friend. Or maybe I am dead. Maybe this is death, I can't feel my body so I don't know if my eyes are open or closed, I'm just floating weightlessly, consumed by nothingness, non existent. My body is somewhere else, I'm sure of it, so maybe I actually am dead. Just maybe, I did it, maybe I-
Okay, I'm not dead. I can feel my aching wrists and their beating pulse, the wires reaching into my veins and my heavy eyelids, obscuring my vision into blackness. I feel so weak, limp and lifeless against the vaguely comfortable bed. I can feel the fluorescent lights through my eyelids, burning and bright. I lift my hand slightly, making it ache and sting a little. I start flexing my fingers and make a little hiss of pain. Someone makes a sudden move next to me, they probably jumped. My heart begins to beat faster, as does the beeping, at the thought that it's Gerard. I just couldn't bear to see him now, not like this, not after what I did.
'Frank?' a strained but soft voice asks next to me. I sigh with relief It's not Gerard, it's Mikey. I open my mouth to speak but no words come out, my throat feels like someones scrubbed it with sand paper and covered it in gravel.
'Ssshh, don't talk Frankie,' Mikey coos, 'thank fuck you're alright.' I smile a little at that. I force my eyes open to be greeted by fluorescent white, blinding. I stare for a minute, eyes burning until things begin to come into focus. I can make out what I assume to be Mikey to my left and what I think is the door to my right. I cant see much else but it all slowly fades into clarity and I can see Mikey, leaning slightly over the side of my bed, eyes wide and bloodshot, cheeks tear stained, hair standing up all over the place because he no doubt kept running his hands through it.
'Hey,' he says, relief radiating from his glassy, brown eyes, 'do you need anything, a drink?' I nod and Mikey does the same in return. He turns away from the bed and towards the door but I reach my arm out and make some pathetic, desperate squeaking noise. Mikey turns round and looks back into my pleading eyes, walking to be back beside me and take my hand and tuck my hair behind my ear. My heart jumps. Because Mikey touched me. Because MIKEY touched me. I'm here because of Gerard but im pining over his little brother. My blood boils and I make a pathetic attempt the break free of Mikeys grips and rip the tubes from my wrist, but he keeps a firm grip on me.
'Hey, hey. Stay still Frankie.' I shake my head and try, once again, to break freee from Mikeys grip, writhing in my bed.
'Frank, stay still, you'll hurt yourself.' I stop abruptly, staying completely still until my shoulders start to shake and my body is wracked with sobs, making small whimpering noises.
'Oh Frankie,' Mikey says quietly, letting go of my wrist and envoloping my in a hug. I lean into him, completely covered by his warmth, crying into his chest.
'Ssshh, come one Frank, hold on,' Mikey says softly, 'Think about tomorrow, the morning, things are always better in the morning. They have to be.'