Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > It's Not A Fashion Statement It's A Deathwish
A.N Sorry I’ve been so long doing this! I don’t deserve all you lovely people as reviewers. But I’ve planned it all out now so it’s fine :)
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Gerard’s POV
I woke up the next morning with an absolutely pounding headache. Groaning in pain, I rolled over in my bed and flicked the light on, screwing up my eyes at the bright light. Once my eyes had adjusted, I took a second glance at my bedside table. On it was a box of painkillers, a glass of water and a note scribbled on a piece of scrap paper. I picked the three things up, placed the note on my duvet and swallowed two painkillers down with a gulp of water. Then I picked up the note. It read:
Morning Gee,
I hope your head doesn’t hurt too much although that’s unlikely,
You absolutely stank of booze last night.
I groaned, had I really had that much?
Anyway, I’ve put out some painkillers for you, take two, no more.
Mom and I have gone into town to get me some new clothes, if you need anything,
Call me on my mobile. Dad’s at work so you’re probably home alone :)
Mikey xo
P.S The hospital called, you can visit Frank any time after 11.
I grabbed my watch off the table and checked the time, 10:38. Good, that would give the painkillers time to work, and me time to get ready without forfeiting time with Frank.
I jumped out of bed, walked over to the window and opened the curtains. The harsh morning sunlight hit me square in the face, bringing on a wave of nausea, and, as I result, I had to run straight to the bathroom to be violently sick. As I was emptying my guts of all harmful chemicals, I decided that I would never, ever, in my life, drink that much again. I stood up, flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. Then I stripped and climbed into the shower, letting the lukewarm water wash all of yesterday’s stress away. When I felt clean and human again, I turned the shower off, stepped out and walked back to my room, leaving wet footprints behind me. I picked up a damp towel from the floor and began to dry off. I glanced at the Star Wars clock above my bed; it was now 10:43. I wandered over to my dresser and picked out my day’s clothes. That didn’t require much thought as all my clothes were virtually the same shades of red, black and grey so whatever I wore it would match anyway. Picking up a sketchbook and an ink pen, I made my way upstairs to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Frankenberry cereal. After completely and utterly drowning it in milk, I sat down at the worn kitchen table and began to eat, scribbling little doodles on the paper.
It was nearly 11 o’clock by the time I had finished and I dumped my bowl in the sink, grabbed my leather jacket, stuffed my feet into some converse and picked my car keys out of the key bowl. I carefully slammed the door behind me and shuffled down the driveway towards my car, trying to hook my fingers into my shoes to pull them on properly. Once I was inside my car I turned it on, and, after much sputtering (the car) and cursing (me) the engine coughed into life and I reversed out of the drive and drove towards the hospital.
Frank’s POV
I didn’t know much, but I did know that I hurt. I hurt all over; I hurt in my head, my ribs, my legs and in various other places that I was loathe to investigate. Also, there was a strange numbness throughout my entire body which I couldn’t shake off. The bed I was lying in was relatively comfortable and I could hear the beep of a machine somewhere to my left as well as some muffled voices that were probably coming from the next room. Still not entirely sure where I was, I tried to open my eyes and have a look. But I couldn’t. My eyes wouldn’t work. A wave of panic rushed through me and I tried to raise my arm to feel my eyes, to check they were ok. But I couldn’t. The panic came again, wave after wave of it, rushing through me, through every nerve in my brain. My heartbeat went from a comfortable thumping, to a pounding in my ears. I tried to writhe around in my bed, to scream, to alert somebody, somewhere that something was very, very wrong here. I could hear the steady beep of the machines beside me become erratic and dangerously fast. There were muffled footsteps outside the room and then the door banged open, or rather; I assumed it did, not able to determine exactly what had happened. What sounded like several people came running into the room and barking instructions to each other.
“He’s crashing!”
“Give him another dose!”
“He’s already way past his limit, there’s nothing we can do for him! By the amount of activity the sensor is picking up, he should be conscious!”
I am conscious! I thought to myself, what was wrong? Couldn’t they see I was conscious?!
“I’m hooking him up with a stronger dose, to calm him down, his heart rate in unhealthily high”
There was a strange pricking in my arm as a needle was inserted and I heard an IV being wheeled over to my bedside. I felt the drugs whoosh into my system and began to instantly feel calmer, everything was merging into everything else, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. . . as I blacked out I heard one of the doctors mutter,
“That should do it, put him out for an hour or two”
. . . and then there was nothing. . .
___________________________
Gerard’s POV
I swerved in and out of traffic, narrowly avoiding several cyclists, it was 11:16 and I still hadn’t reached the hospital yet, I was wasting time that I should be using to apologise profusely to Frank. Skidding dramatically into the car park I screeched into a parking space and jumped out, slammed the door and ran towards the hospital. The automatic doors slid apart (too slowly) and I ran into the reception area, shoes squeaking on the polished floor. I thudded into the desk and pressed down the bell several times before a woman emerged from the room behind and sat down in a swivel chair. She rolled over to the computer, placed her manicured hands on the keyboard and looked at me with heavily mascara-d eyes.
“Can I help you?” Came her annoyingly shrill voice,
“Yes,” I panted “I’m here to see Frank Iero, he was admitted yesterday, I was told I could see him after 11 and since it is now,” I checked my watch “11:25, could you please let me in?” I breathed out, trying to clear my head. The receptionist ran her tongue over her teeth, pursed her lips and typed something into her keyboard, her nails clacking on the keys.
“I’m sorry but Mr Iero is unavailable at the moment, if you could take a seat sir, I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as he wakes up.” I frowned,
“God dammit woman! I need to see him, you don’t understand!” Her expression remained neutral, which pissed me off more than a little bit,
“Are you a relative sir?”
“No...I mean yes, I’m his...his brother!” I glared at her, daring her to disagree. She didn’t dare. Instead she clacked on the keys some more and handed me a visitors badge.
“Ward 7. 3rd floor.” Her voice was void of any emotion but that didn’t matter. I was gone, running down the hall, getting ever closer to my Frank.
Frank’s POV.
I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was asleep or awake, much like the last time I struggled out of consciousness. Once again I tried to open my eyes but once again I failed. I heard someone moving about beside my bed, I heard the scratching of their pen on a clipboard, and I smelt the mixture of cologne and disinfectant. He was muttering to himself, names of drugs, elaborate treatments (all of which I assume he was writing down) and other means to try to ‘wake me up’. Wake me up? But I was awake! I was trapped in an unresponsive body but otherwise I was completely in every way awake! What did they think was wrong with me?
I heard a crash and a gust of cold air as the door burst open, banging back on its hinges. The person beside my bed started, and I heard them take a step back. Whoever had burst in seemed to be rather short of breath as they didn’t speak, they just stood there panting. Then he spoke.
“Frank?” It was Gerard. He did care, not enough to have saved me, but then again, we’d met yesterday so it was to be expected.
“I’m sir but it is not appropriate for you to visit Mr Iero at the moment-” The doctor’s unwelcome voice chipped in.
“Why not?” Yes, why not? I wanted to speak to Gerard dammit.
“Because he’s in a coma.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
_________________________
Love it? Hate it? Want more detail, more description, more sex?
Tell me! My ears and my inbox are open!
Tonks.xo
___________________________________________
Gerard’s POV
I woke up the next morning with an absolutely pounding headache. Groaning in pain, I rolled over in my bed and flicked the light on, screwing up my eyes at the bright light. Once my eyes had adjusted, I took a second glance at my bedside table. On it was a box of painkillers, a glass of water and a note scribbled on a piece of scrap paper. I picked the three things up, placed the note on my duvet and swallowed two painkillers down with a gulp of water. Then I picked up the note. It read:
Morning Gee,
I hope your head doesn’t hurt too much although that’s unlikely,
You absolutely stank of booze last night.
I groaned, had I really had that much?
Anyway, I’ve put out some painkillers for you, take two, no more.
Mom and I have gone into town to get me some new clothes, if you need anything,
Call me on my mobile. Dad’s at work so you’re probably home alone :)
Mikey xo
P.S The hospital called, you can visit Frank any time after 11.
I grabbed my watch off the table and checked the time, 10:38. Good, that would give the painkillers time to work, and me time to get ready without forfeiting time with Frank.
I jumped out of bed, walked over to the window and opened the curtains. The harsh morning sunlight hit me square in the face, bringing on a wave of nausea, and, as I result, I had to run straight to the bathroom to be violently sick. As I was emptying my guts of all harmful chemicals, I decided that I would never, ever, in my life, drink that much again. I stood up, flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. Then I stripped and climbed into the shower, letting the lukewarm water wash all of yesterday’s stress away. When I felt clean and human again, I turned the shower off, stepped out and walked back to my room, leaving wet footprints behind me. I picked up a damp towel from the floor and began to dry off. I glanced at the Star Wars clock above my bed; it was now 10:43. I wandered over to my dresser and picked out my day’s clothes. That didn’t require much thought as all my clothes were virtually the same shades of red, black and grey so whatever I wore it would match anyway. Picking up a sketchbook and an ink pen, I made my way upstairs to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Frankenberry cereal. After completely and utterly drowning it in milk, I sat down at the worn kitchen table and began to eat, scribbling little doodles on the paper.
It was nearly 11 o’clock by the time I had finished and I dumped my bowl in the sink, grabbed my leather jacket, stuffed my feet into some converse and picked my car keys out of the key bowl. I carefully slammed the door behind me and shuffled down the driveway towards my car, trying to hook my fingers into my shoes to pull them on properly. Once I was inside my car I turned it on, and, after much sputtering (the car) and cursing (me) the engine coughed into life and I reversed out of the drive and drove towards the hospital.
Frank’s POV
I didn’t know much, but I did know that I hurt. I hurt all over; I hurt in my head, my ribs, my legs and in various other places that I was loathe to investigate. Also, there was a strange numbness throughout my entire body which I couldn’t shake off. The bed I was lying in was relatively comfortable and I could hear the beep of a machine somewhere to my left as well as some muffled voices that were probably coming from the next room. Still not entirely sure where I was, I tried to open my eyes and have a look. But I couldn’t. My eyes wouldn’t work. A wave of panic rushed through me and I tried to raise my arm to feel my eyes, to check they were ok. But I couldn’t. The panic came again, wave after wave of it, rushing through me, through every nerve in my brain. My heartbeat went from a comfortable thumping, to a pounding in my ears. I tried to writhe around in my bed, to scream, to alert somebody, somewhere that something was very, very wrong here. I could hear the steady beep of the machines beside me become erratic and dangerously fast. There were muffled footsteps outside the room and then the door banged open, or rather; I assumed it did, not able to determine exactly what had happened. What sounded like several people came running into the room and barking instructions to each other.
“He’s crashing!”
“Give him another dose!”
“He’s already way past his limit, there’s nothing we can do for him! By the amount of activity the sensor is picking up, he should be conscious!”
I am conscious! I thought to myself, what was wrong? Couldn’t they see I was conscious?!
“I’m hooking him up with a stronger dose, to calm him down, his heart rate in unhealthily high”
There was a strange pricking in my arm as a needle was inserted and I heard an IV being wheeled over to my bedside. I felt the drugs whoosh into my system and began to instantly feel calmer, everything was merging into everything else, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. . . as I blacked out I heard one of the doctors mutter,
“That should do it, put him out for an hour or two”
. . . and then there was nothing. . .
___________________________
Gerard’s POV
I swerved in and out of traffic, narrowly avoiding several cyclists, it was 11:16 and I still hadn’t reached the hospital yet, I was wasting time that I should be using to apologise profusely to Frank. Skidding dramatically into the car park I screeched into a parking space and jumped out, slammed the door and ran towards the hospital. The automatic doors slid apart (too slowly) and I ran into the reception area, shoes squeaking on the polished floor. I thudded into the desk and pressed down the bell several times before a woman emerged from the room behind and sat down in a swivel chair. She rolled over to the computer, placed her manicured hands on the keyboard and looked at me with heavily mascara-d eyes.
“Can I help you?” Came her annoyingly shrill voice,
“Yes,” I panted “I’m here to see Frank Iero, he was admitted yesterday, I was told I could see him after 11 and since it is now,” I checked my watch “11:25, could you please let me in?” I breathed out, trying to clear my head. The receptionist ran her tongue over her teeth, pursed her lips and typed something into her keyboard, her nails clacking on the keys.
“I’m sorry but Mr Iero is unavailable at the moment, if you could take a seat sir, I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as he wakes up.” I frowned,
“God dammit woman! I need to see him, you don’t understand!” Her expression remained neutral, which pissed me off more than a little bit,
“Are you a relative sir?”
“No...I mean yes, I’m his...his brother!” I glared at her, daring her to disagree. She didn’t dare. Instead she clacked on the keys some more and handed me a visitors badge.
“Ward 7. 3rd floor.” Her voice was void of any emotion but that didn’t matter. I was gone, running down the hall, getting ever closer to my Frank.
Frank’s POV.
I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was asleep or awake, much like the last time I struggled out of consciousness. Once again I tried to open my eyes but once again I failed. I heard someone moving about beside my bed, I heard the scratching of their pen on a clipboard, and I smelt the mixture of cologne and disinfectant. He was muttering to himself, names of drugs, elaborate treatments (all of which I assume he was writing down) and other means to try to ‘wake me up’. Wake me up? But I was awake! I was trapped in an unresponsive body but otherwise I was completely in every way awake! What did they think was wrong with me?
I heard a crash and a gust of cold air as the door burst open, banging back on its hinges. The person beside my bed started, and I heard them take a step back. Whoever had burst in seemed to be rather short of breath as they didn’t speak, they just stood there panting. Then he spoke.
“Frank?” It was Gerard. He did care, not enough to have saved me, but then again, we’d met yesterday so it was to be expected.
“I’m sir but it is not appropriate for you to visit Mr Iero at the moment-” The doctor’s unwelcome voice chipped in.
“Why not?” Yes, why not? I wanted to speak to Gerard dammit.
“Because he’s in a coma.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
_________________________
Love it? Hate it? Want more detail, more description, more sex?
Tell me! My ears and my inbox are open!
Tonks.xo
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