Sirens screamed louder and louder as the ambulances came closer and closer. Mikey’s wrists were inadequately wrapped by the paramedics, blood seeping through the cotton gauze. Gerard rode on the ambulance, Frank’s arm around him, staring at his little brother’s unconscious body. He looked down at his hands. They were covered in Mikey's blood. “It’s my fault. All my fault. Why didn’t I help him? YOU ARE A HORRIBLE HUMAN BEING.” He burst out into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, hiccupping words of regret to Mikey. Frank held Gerard’s head to his shoulder and placed his lips gently on Gerard’s head. “It’s not your fault, Gerard. No one could have known what was going to happen. Mikey loves you. He didn’t do it because of you.” Ray sat on the other side of the ambulance, hands on his head, eyes wide open with shock. Mikey…
Gerard sat on the corner of the stretcher Mikey was laid out on in the silent, white hospital. He brushed back some of Mikey’s hair; it had been 2 weeks and 1 day. Mikey still had not awoken. He lost too much blood. He had seemed to have aged years in the short time. His eyes looked caved in and red, his face… was lifeless. He seemed to be a corpse. Gerard adjusted himself on the stretcher and reached his hand out and gripped Mikey’s limp hand. He closed his eyes. Remorse and guilt flew around in his brain making him want a drink again. He shooed the thoughts away. Suddenly someone squeezed his hand back. Gerard’s eyes flew open and glanced at his hand. Mikey’s hand was gripping back. Really hard. “Ow!” Gerard exclaimed, not sure if in happiness or in pain. He stared at Mikey’s face, slowly starting to regain life, like his soul was reviving. Mikey’s lips subtly opened, exhaling a soft, delicate breath. Gerard grabbed Mikey’s hand again, this time with both hands and squeezed. “You can do it Mikey.” He whispered. Mikey opened his eyes, his light brown irises flickering in the light. He squinted, his eyes adjusting to the light and looked into Gerard’s wide eyes.
“I love you, Gee.”