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Mikey had decided to patch things up with Gerard. Gerard's life had become pretty chaos lately. He always seemed to be rushing back and forth between their home and Lindsey's apparentment. Mikey decided to help out anyway he could. 
And Gerard wanted Frank to have a friend. 
At first Mikey thought it would just be a sort of chore, but he truly grew to like Frank. He was one quirky dude.

Mikey's visits became regular. He and Frank had been instant friends. He finally had a friend, someone he would be forever thankful to.
He and Frank did all sorts of things, causing Frank to actually have a life. He got out of the house, went places, did things, had fun. Mikey didn't seem to mind at all any of Frank's handicaps. In fact, whenever they got Frank down or agitated, Mikey was there to tell Frank it didn't matter. It did matter, though. But Frank would never tell him that. He began to appreciate and admire Mikey. 
At Mikey's they had a trampoline, it was one of those netted one. After seeing Frank's envious glare, Mikey took Frank out. Setting Frankie in the middle, and jumping around. Frank felt like the little kid he never got to be. Ever since he had his childhood taken from him. It had been the most amazing feeling ever. 
Mikey's friends excepted Frank. They didn't care. It was cool, it was brilliant. He finally fit in. Though Mikey's girlfriend didn't seem to like him much. 
It had been several weeks and Frank still hadn't made any progress. 
Having a glimmer of one future day being normal, made being possibly permanently shoved back so much more unbearable. 
Life was moving on, and Frank was ebbing and flowing, as the tides do, with it. He was genuinely happy now, no longer simply content.  
One determined day he pushed past the barrier and earned back his right hand. Doing things right handed was very awkward, he found out
It was now spring break. And Gerard had seemed kind of weird lately, off.
Frank tried many times to get his arms to work. He knew, knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he could use them. It was just so hard. They were heavy, like leaden nubs. But he wouldn't give up. No, Frank wanted this too badly just to give up. All hope was not lost in him.
And finally, finally, he got his left arm to swing upwards. He kept it aloft for a few seconds, before it fell, crashing down back into his lap. 
Progress. 


Gerard was in his local music store. It was really just a place that sold old and new cd's, with a few guitars and amps mixed in. Oh, and there was one drum kit hidden in the back because the greying up tight account of an owner despised it's existence and the sound it emitted.
He drummed through all the titles with his fingertips, not looking for anything specific.
Then, his ringtone blared throughout the room. The nerdy acne ridden boy at the check out counter looked up from his comic, pushing up his thick glasses with his long middle finger, glaring at Gerard. 
Gerard slid out of the ancient store and answered it. Lindsey.
She was gasping for breath. "Gerard? Gerard, I think there's something wrong with the baby." she wheezed out weakly.  
He was stunned for several seconds but then he took action.
"I'll be there soon. Hold on."
He hopped into his car and had to resist the tempting urge to drive like a maniac. Getting polled over would not help Lindsey. 
At every stoplight he hit, he started freaking out even more. Oh, damn. D-amm-n. 
He was so glad for that key Lindsey had given him forever ago. He hadn't expected to need it.
He stormed in and called out for her, finding her laying half on the white tiles of the bathroom doorway and half on the carpeting of the hall. Her hair falling from it's pony tail and into her eyes, blood pouring from her lips, down her chin, globing and pooling on the tiles. She clutched her blooming stomach. 
He helped her up. She was shaking and unsteady. On their journey out to the car, she looked him straight in the eye, his arms still wrapped protectively around her, and like a small child said, "I'm Scared." 
Oh, he was too. In his mind he was running around like a madman, arms failing about the air, screaming at the top of his lungs until his voice hurt.
Deep breath. 
Calm, cool, and collected.
Right.

Lindsey had hit unconscious on the way over to the hospital. Gerard had carried her in bridal style. At the sight of her, nurses began rushing around, prepping. 
Her sweat pants were soaked, as was his car, but that didn't matter, and the white of her baggy tee shirt dribbled in her blood. 
He would never forget. 
Hours had passed and he had no information. Even though he was all she had, he wasn't family. Which left him uninformed and out of 'the loop'.
The hospital waiting room was equipped with horrid, armless, plastic chairs. Gerard was laying across three. There were only three to the wall, so his feet hung over the edge majorly. His arm covering his eye. 
He had passed scared out of his wits. Now he was just plain tired. He was too worried to be able to cure his boredom, but too indifferent to be skeptical. 
Gerard rubbed a hand over his bleary eyes. 

The lights around her were bright and blinding, fluorescent. Her eyes rolled back in head. She was faintly aware of the buzzing sounds alive around her. Just the background music to her thoughts. She felt coated in sweat. Lindsey knew there should have been pain, but she was just numb. Numb. 
She was going to a place Gerard had only talk about. Painted with words a concept she could never understand. There wasn't something other. There was black and there was nothing. It was the end. Or at least that was what she had spent her short life believing. An atheist to the extreme. 
City smoldering in the background. Black puffs of smoke licking the dirt grey air, particles of who knows what floating all around. From a distance she heard the tap of a snare. Lindsey was a alone, so painfully alone. She was in her blood coated clothes of earlier. Everything after lunch was a blur. All she knew was she had been getting up to get her snack and everything went bad. 
She looked down. Her stomach. It was empty. Lifeless. She smoothed a hand over it horrified. 
No. 
She was a fuck up. 
A failure as a mother. 
She knew things would turn bad. 
Suddenly she wasn't alone. 
A little girl came trotting up. She had black hair that kissed her shoulders and a plum dress with striped stockings topped off with little Mary Janes. 
"Mama." She whispered sweetly.
"Do you come to haunt me?" Lindsey asked robotically, feeling strangely detached all of the sudden, and the tears gracing her pale cheeks.
"I come to help." The little girl told her. Her little girl. 
The girl of six or so, maybe more, maybe less, walked slowly over and embraced Lindsey's hand with her own minute one. Heart swelling with pride, Lindsey squeezed her baby girl's fingers. 
Her child led the way. Lindsey fallowing behind, deafly awestruck. 
"Mama, the others would like to meet you." The girl whispered innocently, looking up expectantly at her parent, tugging on Lindsey lounge pants, as they stopped out of nowhere.
Continuing on, her bare feet across the dying street. Destruction piled up around her. She watched curiously. 
Then they came. Whoever they were. The 'others' she supposed. There were hundreds of them, they lined the winding street for as far as she could see. They all looked as though they had a story to tell.  
And her little girl's fingers slipped from hers. And then she was gone. Leaving Lindsey to face these people by her self, she wasn't even sure they were truly people.
It seemed unbearable. She couldn't go in alone...






Just hang tight.
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