Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Faring Well
“Your father?” The doctor repeated. “I thought--”
“Yeah, so did I.” Gerard’s head was spinning.
This couldn’t be possible. His father was gone, off the map, uncharted. He hadn’t exactly left a forwarding address taped up on the refrigerator. Paid off their house? Insurance? Since when? Of course, Gerard hadn’t had any reason to go to the hospital since moving out, but that seemed like something you’d know about, having an insurance policy from your M.I.A. father.
“Well…that’s taken care of,” the doctor said awkwardly, tapping her pen against the metal clip of the board in her hand.
“Do you…did he leave any kind of contact information, or anything?” Gerard hated himself for asking, but he had to know. He craved it. He hadn’t seen his father or heard his voice in nearly seven years. If they only had a phone number, he could hear his voice. The memory was fading, and Gerard wanted it back. In the back of his mind, he also wanted to ask his father why he’d left his little boy behind…
The doctor hesitated. “Well…he left a phone number, but…he asked that we only call for emergencies, you know--”
“Doctor,” Gerard interrupted, chest feeling as though it was collapsing. His chance to see his father after so long was slipping through his grasp. He swallowed thickly. He couldn’t. He was so close. It was right there. “I’m a seventeen year old boy. I haven’t seen my father since I was eleven. Right now, my seven year old brother is in a coma, and we don’t know when he’s coming out of it. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this seems like an emergency to me.”
“Right,” the doctor said, clearing her throat and nodding, but not making eye contact with the teenager. “Right, I’m sorry. I’ll tell the nurse at the desk to get that for you, and…yes. Okay. I’ll be around again later in the evening, then.” With that, she hurried out, leaving Gerard reeling in this new revelation.
“Think of that, Mikey,” he murmured, grabbing his little brother’s hand and stroking his thumb over his wrist. “A dad you never knew…All of a sudden, he just shows up--kinda--and pays to save your life. But he left me with Mom when I was eleven. What do we make of him, huh?” Gerard wasn’t insane; he knew his little brother wasn’t going to answer. He just needed to speak these things aloud to keep his thoughts sorted out. He sighed and stood, using every ounce of restraint not to sprint out to the nurse’s desk for his father’s number.
Years later, it seemed, when he finally was back in Mikey’s room with the number, his hands began to sweat. Suddenly, he didn’t want to call. He didn’t want the answers, because he didn’t want them to be the wrong ones. What if the oldest Way didn’t answer? What if he answered and hung up at the sound of his teenage son’s voice? Possibly worse, what if he…came to the hospital? Actually showed up? Gerard shuddered. He set the piece of paper with the phone number on the table, beneath Mikey’s glasses. He’d worry about it later.
“Knock, knock.” At that moment, a very welcome intrusion interrupted Gerard’s thoughts. A large, curly red afro appeared in the doorway, along with a head of long, dark hair, closely followed by a small, tattooed boy.
“Hey, guys! How’d you get them to let you in?” Apparently, only immediate family members were allowed into the Intensive Care Unit, and fake cousins didn’t qualify.
“Told them that Mikey’s mine and Harper’s Godson. No way to disprove that.” Ray smirked smugly at his ability to bamboozle the nurses, who probably knew that seventeen year olds couldn’t be Godparents, but just didn’t care enough to bring it up.
“What about you?” Gerard nodded towards Frank without making eye contact. He rubbed the back of his neck; he’d ignored a few calls from Frank early this morning. He just hadn’t been in the mood to talk to anyone. Still, he felt guilty.
“Frank’s our retarded cousin that flies into fits of uncontrollable rage if he’s left alone with strangers.” Ray shrugged; Gerard chuckled, and Harper punched the taller boy on the arm.
“That was all his idea,” she said, glaring jokingly.
“Well, I’m glad you all got in. It’s been…quite a day.” Gerard spent the next few minutes filling them in on what Maria had said about what had happened, and what the doctor had told him about Mikey’s condition. He was hesitant to mention the most pressing matter, however, and danced around the subject.
“Well…” Harper began, shifting from foot to foot. “Hey, you guys wanna go get something to eat? Get out of this…atmosphere for a while?”
“Thanks, but you guys can go,” Gerard said, looking back at Mikey. “I can’t leave him.”
“Gerard,” Harper said quietly. “You know, he’s not going anywhere…”
“I know that,” Gerard snapped. He turned back to Mikey, softening his tone. “I just…I don’t want him to wake up in a strange place…alone.”
“You know, he probably won’t--” Harper began, but was cut off by Ray. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Well, how about we go to the pizza place down the block and bring dinner back here? You’ve gotta eat, at least, Gerard.”
“Okay.” Gerard shrugged. “Whatever.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Frank offered. Harper and Ray nodded, awkwardly waving before closing the door quietly behind themselves. “How you been doing?”
Gerard shrugged again. He didn’t want to be alone with Frank; he didn’t know why, he just felt guilty about something. “Alright.”
“I tried calling you at lunch, but you didn’t answer.”
“I’ve been sleeping on and off all day.” Not a complete lie…
“You’re not still blaming yourself, are you?” Frank pulled up a chair beside Gerard’s and sat, taking the other boy’s hand in his own. Gerard didn’t resist, but he let his hand hang limply in Frank’s.
“I can’t help it,” he confessed, finally giving in and squeezing Frank’s warm, tattooed hand. “I just--I just can’t help but think that things might have turned out differently if I had just done one thing differently, you know? I mean, if I hadn’t done that stupid play. If I hadn’t agreed to take him in and let him go into a foster care, where they could probably take better care of him than I could. If I had never left my mother’s house and just stuck it out until I graduated. If--”
“Gerard, you have to stop!” Frank grabbed Gerard’s face in his palms, looking directly into his eyes. “You need to stop blaming yourself. Baby, I know it’s hard, but it’s not your fault. Life plays out. We never know what will happen until it happens. If you hadn’t done one thing, you’d have done another, or someone else would have, or something, but Mikey isn’t going to live the rest of his life unscathed, no matter how hard you try to protect him. People get hurt, Gerard, and just because you’re there doesn’t make it your fault. You can’t stop him from falling, Gerard, but you can be there with him and make it easier to heal. That’s all you can do. I know, you feel out of control, but you have to let go.”
“Why do you always know what to say?” Gerard asked, tears leaking down his cheeks and onto Frank’s fingers. The other teen chuckled, moving his face closer to Gerard’s.
“It’s my job. I have to keep you from going insane and killing every last living thing that poses a threat to Mikey’s well-being.” Both boys laughed. Gerard stopped quickly and sighed, lowering his gaze before once more meeting Frank’s.
“I…have something to tell you.” Gerard bit his lip.
“Anything at all.”
“I…Well…When I asked the doctor about insurance, she said it was already taken care of. Apparently, my…Well...Mikey’s hospital bills are being paid by my father’s insurance.” Frank froze, staring at Gerard, mouth agape.
“But--I thought--”
“Me too,” Gerard said with a bark of humorless laughter. “Believe me, no one could be more shocked. And there’s more. Look at that piece of paper under Mikey’s glasses.” Frank did, examining the scribble for a moment before gasping.
“This--your father’s phone number?” Gerard nodded. “Oh, my God. Have you…have you called?” Gerard shook his head.
“I haven’t had the guts,” he admitted.
“You have to call.”
“But, I mean…what if he--”
“Stop. Stop right there. I don’t want to hear your ‘what ifs.’ Call. Now.” Frank took Gerard’s phone off the bedside table, handing it to him determinedly. Gerard hesitated, but gave in. He took a deep breath and quickly dialed the number, putting it to his ear before he could chicken out.
“Good evening, you’ve reached the office of Donald Way, this is his secretary, Denise, speaking,” a cool female voice answered on the third ring. Gerard gulped and cleared his throat.
“Yeah--um…Can I talk to my--Donald?”
“Of course. And who may I say is calling?”
“Umm…it’s a surprise.” Gerard could have smacked himself. No way to sound more creepy than that. He sighed. Might as well just hang up right now, as things were already headed in a poor direction.
“Uh, alright. Hold, please.” Cue the elevator music. It was somewhat calming to Gerard’s nerves. That is, until the music clicked off. His heart stopped; he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do this. This was his father. The father he hadn’t seen in years. Years and years, and now he was calling him. No. It wasn’t going to happen like this. He’d hang up. He’d yell. He’d show up. He’d try to take Mikey. He’d ignore him. He’d--
“Donald Way speaking.”
“…Daddy?”
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“Yeah, so did I.” Gerard’s head was spinning.
This couldn’t be possible. His father was gone, off the map, uncharted. He hadn’t exactly left a forwarding address taped up on the refrigerator. Paid off their house? Insurance? Since when? Of course, Gerard hadn’t had any reason to go to the hospital since moving out, but that seemed like something you’d know about, having an insurance policy from your M.I.A. father.
“Well…that’s taken care of,” the doctor said awkwardly, tapping her pen against the metal clip of the board in her hand.
“Do you…did he leave any kind of contact information, or anything?” Gerard hated himself for asking, but he had to know. He craved it. He hadn’t seen his father or heard his voice in nearly seven years. If they only had a phone number, he could hear his voice. The memory was fading, and Gerard wanted it back. In the back of his mind, he also wanted to ask his father why he’d left his little boy behind…
The doctor hesitated. “Well…he left a phone number, but…he asked that we only call for emergencies, you know--”
“Doctor,” Gerard interrupted, chest feeling as though it was collapsing. His chance to see his father after so long was slipping through his grasp. He swallowed thickly. He couldn’t. He was so close. It was right there. “I’m a seventeen year old boy. I haven’t seen my father since I was eleven. Right now, my seven year old brother is in a coma, and we don’t know when he’s coming out of it. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this seems like an emergency to me.”
“Right,” the doctor said, clearing her throat and nodding, but not making eye contact with the teenager. “Right, I’m sorry. I’ll tell the nurse at the desk to get that for you, and…yes. Okay. I’ll be around again later in the evening, then.” With that, she hurried out, leaving Gerard reeling in this new revelation.
“Think of that, Mikey,” he murmured, grabbing his little brother’s hand and stroking his thumb over his wrist. “A dad you never knew…All of a sudden, he just shows up--kinda--and pays to save your life. But he left me with Mom when I was eleven. What do we make of him, huh?” Gerard wasn’t insane; he knew his little brother wasn’t going to answer. He just needed to speak these things aloud to keep his thoughts sorted out. He sighed and stood, using every ounce of restraint not to sprint out to the nurse’s desk for his father’s number.
Years later, it seemed, when he finally was back in Mikey’s room with the number, his hands began to sweat. Suddenly, he didn’t want to call. He didn’t want the answers, because he didn’t want them to be the wrong ones. What if the oldest Way didn’t answer? What if he answered and hung up at the sound of his teenage son’s voice? Possibly worse, what if he…came to the hospital? Actually showed up? Gerard shuddered. He set the piece of paper with the phone number on the table, beneath Mikey’s glasses. He’d worry about it later.
“Knock, knock.” At that moment, a very welcome intrusion interrupted Gerard’s thoughts. A large, curly red afro appeared in the doorway, along with a head of long, dark hair, closely followed by a small, tattooed boy.
“Hey, guys! How’d you get them to let you in?” Apparently, only immediate family members were allowed into the Intensive Care Unit, and fake cousins didn’t qualify.
“Told them that Mikey’s mine and Harper’s Godson. No way to disprove that.” Ray smirked smugly at his ability to bamboozle the nurses, who probably knew that seventeen year olds couldn’t be Godparents, but just didn’t care enough to bring it up.
“What about you?” Gerard nodded towards Frank without making eye contact. He rubbed the back of his neck; he’d ignored a few calls from Frank early this morning. He just hadn’t been in the mood to talk to anyone. Still, he felt guilty.
“Frank’s our retarded cousin that flies into fits of uncontrollable rage if he’s left alone with strangers.” Ray shrugged; Gerard chuckled, and Harper punched the taller boy on the arm.
“That was all his idea,” she said, glaring jokingly.
“Well, I’m glad you all got in. It’s been…quite a day.” Gerard spent the next few minutes filling them in on what Maria had said about what had happened, and what the doctor had told him about Mikey’s condition. He was hesitant to mention the most pressing matter, however, and danced around the subject.
“Well…” Harper began, shifting from foot to foot. “Hey, you guys wanna go get something to eat? Get out of this…atmosphere for a while?”
“Thanks, but you guys can go,” Gerard said, looking back at Mikey. “I can’t leave him.”
“Gerard,” Harper said quietly. “You know, he’s not going anywhere…”
“I know that,” Gerard snapped. He turned back to Mikey, softening his tone. “I just…I don’t want him to wake up in a strange place…alone.”
“You know, he probably won’t--” Harper began, but was cut off by Ray. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Well, how about we go to the pizza place down the block and bring dinner back here? You’ve gotta eat, at least, Gerard.”
“Okay.” Gerard shrugged. “Whatever.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Frank offered. Harper and Ray nodded, awkwardly waving before closing the door quietly behind themselves. “How you been doing?”
Gerard shrugged again. He didn’t want to be alone with Frank; he didn’t know why, he just felt guilty about something. “Alright.”
“I tried calling you at lunch, but you didn’t answer.”
“I’ve been sleeping on and off all day.” Not a complete lie…
“You’re not still blaming yourself, are you?” Frank pulled up a chair beside Gerard’s and sat, taking the other boy’s hand in his own. Gerard didn’t resist, but he let his hand hang limply in Frank’s.
“I can’t help it,” he confessed, finally giving in and squeezing Frank’s warm, tattooed hand. “I just--I just can’t help but think that things might have turned out differently if I had just done one thing differently, you know? I mean, if I hadn’t done that stupid play. If I hadn’t agreed to take him in and let him go into a foster care, where they could probably take better care of him than I could. If I had never left my mother’s house and just stuck it out until I graduated. If--”
“Gerard, you have to stop!” Frank grabbed Gerard’s face in his palms, looking directly into his eyes. “You need to stop blaming yourself. Baby, I know it’s hard, but it’s not your fault. Life plays out. We never know what will happen until it happens. If you hadn’t done one thing, you’d have done another, or someone else would have, or something, but Mikey isn’t going to live the rest of his life unscathed, no matter how hard you try to protect him. People get hurt, Gerard, and just because you’re there doesn’t make it your fault. You can’t stop him from falling, Gerard, but you can be there with him and make it easier to heal. That’s all you can do. I know, you feel out of control, but you have to let go.”
“Why do you always know what to say?” Gerard asked, tears leaking down his cheeks and onto Frank’s fingers. The other teen chuckled, moving his face closer to Gerard’s.
“It’s my job. I have to keep you from going insane and killing every last living thing that poses a threat to Mikey’s well-being.” Both boys laughed. Gerard stopped quickly and sighed, lowering his gaze before once more meeting Frank’s.
“I…have something to tell you.” Gerard bit his lip.
“Anything at all.”
“I…Well…When I asked the doctor about insurance, she said it was already taken care of. Apparently, my…Well...Mikey’s hospital bills are being paid by my father’s insurance.” Frank froze, staring at Gerard, mouth agape.
“But--I thought--”
“Me too,” Gerard said with a bark of humorless laughter. “Believe me, no one could be more shocked. And there’s more. Look at that piece of paper under Mikey’s glasses.” Frank did, examining the scribble for a moment before gasping.
“This--your father’s phone number?” Gerard nodded. “Oh, my God. Have you…have you called?” Gerard shook his head.
“I haven’t had the guts,” he admitted.
“You have to call.”
“But, I mean…what if he--”
“Stop. Stop right there. I don’t want to hear your ‘what ifs.’ Call. Now.” Frank took Gerard’s phone off the bedside table, handing it to him determinedly. Gerard hesitated, but gave in. He took a deep breath and quickly dialed the number, putting it to his ear before he could chicken out.
“Good evening, you’ve reached the office of Donald Way, this is his secretary, Denise, speaking,” a cool female voice answered on the third ring. Gerard gulped and cleared his throat.
“Yeah--um…Can I talk to my--Donald?”
“Of course. And who may I say is calling?”
“Umm…it’s a surprise.” Gerard could have smacked himself. No way to sound more creepy than that. He sighed. Might as well just hang up right now, as things were already headed in a poor direction.
“Uh, alright. Hold, please.” Cue the elevator music. It was somewhat calming to Gerard’s nerves. That is, until the music clicked off. His heart stopped; he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do this. This was his father. The father he hadn’t seen in years. Years and years, and now he was calling him. No. It wasn’t going to happen like this. He’d hang up. He’d yell. He’d show up. He’d try to take Mikey. He’d ignore him. He’d--
“Donald Way speaking.”
“…Daddy?”
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