FicWad

I couldn't believe Mikey had just acted that way. Poor Alicia; she was so upset that she ran out of the room crying. I felt almost sick as I left that room, partially from anger, but mostly from worry. I couldn't imagine what Mikey was going through, not being able to see. I just wanted to help him somehow, but I knew there was nothing I could do except take him home. That was all any of us wanted: to go home. I knew there was going to be a lot of press to deal with, but at the moment it didn't worry me that much. Everything would be sorted out in time.

I finally realized something. Everything wouldn't be sorted out. We would never be the same; we certainly couldn't be a band anymore. Gerard couldn't sing. Frank couldn't play. Mikey couldn't see, and for as much as they had told me - which was nothing - Bob couldn't be our drummer. We could never live normal, healthy lives. Well, I could, but it wouldn't be normal. Nothing would ever be normal again, whether we went home or not.

I gathered my stuff, glad that I would be getting out of the hospital. I hated it immensely; all of us did. We all felt a certain connection to it because of the album, but that didn't make it any easier to be stuck in it not knowing if your friends were going to live. It was cold and pale, and the walls were blank. Darkness seemed far more comforting in comparison. About an hour later, I signed the necessary paperwork and went back to the room to get Mikey, finding the whitewashed door closed. I knocked on it a few times.

"Time to go, Mikey," I called, waiting for a response. I knocked and called his name again, but there was no answer. "Are you feeling okay?" I asked, worried. I hoped he was alright.

Then I heard something that nearly sent chills down my spine.

"Is there anybody out there?"