Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 100 MCR oneshots
The room was still. No one dared to move in case it broke the spell protecting them in that moment. As long as every one remained seated in their green, hospital chair, they wouldn’t be brought bad news. No one could hurt them.
The room contained five men, four were stony faced and pale, the fifth hade angry red tracks down his cheeks and swollen eyes, his nose was red too and now he stared at the floor with a clenched jaw. He was angry with everyone, with the doctors for not bringing them any news and with whichever preternatural being it was that presided over them and chose their fate. Most of all he was angry with himself, for not foreseeing this, for not being there to prevent it or to help his precious baby through it.
Three hours ago they had received a call from the hospital explaining that Frank’s girlfriend had been involved in a traffic accident. They’d pulled her from the wreckage but she needed emergency surgery to stop the bleeding. They’d been asked to call her family and inform them but there was no family. She’d been an only child, orphaned at the ripe age of eighteen. It had made her hard but not too much so, just enough that she could face life with a different attitude to those more naïve to its cruel twists.
The squeak of trainers on the linoleum floor raises Frank from his thoughts, he unclasps his hands and runs them through his hair. The spell is broken, their protective bubble burst, the nurse opens her mouth to speak. “Mr Iero?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He manages to choke out, rising to his feet, his knees threaten to give way but he remains standing.
“I’m afraid the surgery didn’t go as planned.” The room spins and a darkness unlike any other threatens to engulf him, he sits again and looks up with a white face into the nurse’s sympathetic eyes. “She’s being kept alive on the machines at the moment but she lost too much blood, the brain damage is irreparable. She won’t wake up.”
“There’s go to be something,” Frank stumbles breathlessly, feeling as exhausted as if he had just ran a thousand miles to get here. “I mean, you’re all trained to deal with this sort of thing. People have accidents all the time in cars. You can save her, right?”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.”
Then the darkness swallows him whole.
“I love you. I know I never told you enough, I know I left you doubting it sometimes and I am so sorry for that.” The man chokes out. He’s sat on a hospital chair beside an unmoving figure on a white hospital bed. The sheets are white, her bedclothes are white, the walls are white, and both faces are white, drained of colour by either injury or shock. “I never meant the things I said, the things that made you cry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have saved you, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.”
The tears come thick and fast and Frank grips onto one of the lifeless hands and rests his forehead onto it. Pressing desperate kisses onto the knuckles as if she was Sleeping Beauty and one kiss off her true love would wake her. “I love you.”
After three days of little sleep and even less food the other four boys take action. “Frank, she’s not going to wake up, you need to go home and take care of yourself. One of us can stay here if you don’t want her to be alone.” Mikey says quietly after watching Frank dissolve into tears for the third time that morning.
“I’m not leaving her Mikey. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Frank why don’t you go home and freshen yourself up yeah? The smell of you alone is enough to put someone in a coma.” Ray tries, taking the more light hearted approach.
“Fuck off man, how can you expect me to shower when she might… might… die.” A fresh wave of tears engulfs him and thoughts of cleaning are washed from both men’s minds.
After a week the doctors began talking to Frank about turning off the machines. “I’m not giving up on her! I love her, we love each other! She’s going to come back, she said she wouldn’t leave me, we were meant to be together forever, we were going to have kids and get married in a big church and she was going to move in. We were HAPPY! I’M NOT GOING TO LET YOU KILL HER!” The darkness settled in him again and he sat back down, stroking the hair from his girlfriend’s cheek and gazing lovingly at her still figure. The doctors back away, ignoring the crystal tears now falling in a steady stream from the man’s eyes.
“She’s not coming back Mikey.” It was three in the morning. Frank was stood on his friend’s porch in the jeans and t-shirt he hadn’t changed from all week, shivering in the cold. “She’s never going to wake up.”
The tears don’t fall this time, it was as though they had dried out. Instead the friends embrace and Mikey leads Frank back into his small house, turning on the lights as he walks to the kitchen.
“Are you going to turn off the machines?”
“I don’t know if I can. I mean, maybe it’s for the best, but…” He trails off and looks down at the coffee Mikey had poured for them both as they stood talking in the kitchen.
“I know, it’s hard isn’t it?” Frank is about to snap at his friend that he didn’t understand any of this but remembered all too quickly the pain his grandmother’s death had caused him. This must be similar, he thinks, it’s all grief, just a matter of perspective.
“Do you think I should let her go?”
“I think you should decide how you want to remember her, how you want to live your life, and how she would want to live her life. I didn’t know her as well as you but I don’t think she’d want you to remember her like that Frank, I think she’d want you to remember her how she was before, and I don’t think she’d want you to sit around for a week without washing or sleeping, mourning her when she’s not even dead yet. As for how you want to live your life, I can’t make that decision for you, but this ‘life’ is making you miserable. You’re bound to be upset but moping around like you’ve just been told your whole world is about to collapse, it’s not you Frank.”
The other man says nothing but nods, showing his appreciation for the honest answers that had been provided. “Do you think everyone will hate me if I tell them to send her on her way?”
“No.” Mikey answers him with such conviction Frank knows it’s not a lie. “Do you want me to come with you?” He nods. “Tomorrow?” Another nod.
“Thank you.” In the relief of the moment a small smile graces his lips.
“Are you certain that you want to do this?” The doctor asks him again. After spending a solid week here he might have learnt their names but he had been too wrapped up in his own world to deal with such things.
“I’m sure. She wouldn’t have wanted this.” Frank motions to the copious wires, tubes and machines gathered around her small frame.
“Ok. Say goodbye,” the man smiles kindly and Frank and Mikey both utter their farewells, “Time of death eleven forty-five.”
A month after the funeral Frank still thinks about her all the time, but they’re happy thoughts; memories of the good times they had, of the plans they’d had, the dreams. The funeral had been quiet but it had done her justice. He was back on tour now with his band and he always dedicated a song to her. It was his way of keeping her alive, in his heart and in his mind. He would always love her but her life, and her death, was just a chapter in his. It would be hard but he would move on. Like it or not life went on.
The room contained five men, four were stony faced and pale, the fifth hade angry red tracks down his cheeks and swollen eyes, his nose was red too and now he stared at the floor with a clenched jaw. He was angry with everyone, with the doctors for not bringing them any news and with whichever preternatural being it was that presided over them and chose their fate. Most of all he was angry with himself, for not foreseeing this, for not being there to prevent it or to help his precious baby through it.
Three hours ago they had received a call from the hospital explaining that Frank’s girlfriend had been involved in a traffic accident. They’d pulled her from the wreckage but she needed emergency surgery to stop the bleeding. They’d been asked to call her family and inform them but there was no family. She’d been an only child, orphaned at the ripe age of eighteen. It had made her hard but not too much so, just enough that she could face life with a different attitude to those more naïve to its cruel twists.
The squeak of trainers on the linoleum floor raises Frank from his thoughts, he unclasps his hands and runs them through his hair. The spell is broken, their protective bubble burst, the nurse opens her mouth to speak. “Mr Iero?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He manages to choke out, rising to his feet, his knees threaten to give way but he remains standing.
“I’m afraid the surgery didn’t go as planned.” The room spins and a darkness unlike any other threatens to engulf him, he sits again and looks up with a white face into the nurse’s sympathetic eyes. “She’s being kept alive on the machines at the moment but she lost too much blood, the brain damage is irreparable. She won’t wake up.”
“There’s go to be something,” Frank stumbles breathlessly, feeling as exhausted as if he had just ran a thousand miles to get here. “I mean, you’re all trained to deal with this sort of thing. People have accidents all the time in cars. You can save her, right?”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.”
Then the darkness swallows him whole.
“I love you. I know I never told you enough, I know I left you doubting it sometimes and I am so sorry for that.” The man chokes out. He’s sat on a hospital chair beside an unmoving figure on a white hospital bed. The sheets are white, her bedclothes are white, the walls are white, and both faces are white, drained of colour by either injury or shock. “I never meant the things I said, the things that made you cry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have saved you, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.”
The tears come thick and fast and Frank grips onto one of the lifeless hands and rests his forehead onto it. Pressing desperate kisses onto the knuckles as if she was Sleeping Beauty and one kiss off her true love would wake her. “I love you.”
After three days of little sleep and even less food the other four boys take action. “Frank, she’s not going to wake up, you need to go home and take care of yourself. One of us can stay here if you don’t want her to be alone.” Mikey says quietly after watching Frank dissolve into tears for the third time that morning.
“I’m not leaving her Mikey. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Frank why don’t you go home and freshen yourself up yeah? The smell of you alone is enough to put someone in a coma.” Ray tries, taking the more light hearted approach.
“Fuck off man, how can you expect me to shower when she might… might… die.” A fresh wave of tears engulfs him and thoughts of cleaning are washed from both men’s minds.
After a week the doctors began talking to Frank about turning off the machines. “I’m not giving up on her! I love her, we love each other! She’s going to come back, she said she wouldn’t leave me, we were meant to be together forever, we were going to have kids and get married in a big church and she was going to move in. We were HAPPY! I’M NOT GOING TO LET YOU KILL HER!” The darkness settled in him again and he sat back down, stroking the hair from his girlfriend’s cheek and gazing lovingly at her still figure. The doctors back away, ignoring the crystal tears now falling in a steady stream from the man’s eyes.
“She’s not coming back Mikey.” It was three in the morning. Frank was stood on his friend’s porch in the jeans and t-shirt he hadn’t changed from all week, shivering in the cold. “She’s never going to wake up.”
The tears don’t fall this time, it was as though they had dried out. Instead the friends embrace and Mikey leads Frank back into his small house, turning on the lights as he walks to the kitchen.
“Are you going to turn off the machines?”
“I don’t know if I can. I mean, maybe it’s for the best, but…” He trails off and looks down at the coffee Mikey had poured for them both as they stood talking in the kitchen.
“I know, it’s hard isn’t it?” Frank is about to snap at his friend that he didn’t understand any of this but remembered all too quickly the pain his grandmother’s death had caused him. This must be similar, he thinks, it’s all grief, just a matter of perspective.
“Do you think I should let her go?”
“I think you should decide how you want to remember her, how you want to live your life, and how she would want to live her life. I didn’t know her as well as you but I don’t think she’d want you to remember her like that Frank, I think she’d want you to remember her how she was before, and I don’t think she’d want you to sit around for a week without washing or sleeping, mourning her when she’s not even dead yet. As for how you want to live your life, I can’t make that decision for you, but this ‘life’ is making you miserable. You’re bound to be upset but moping around like you’ve just been told your whole world is about to collapse, it’s not you Frank.”
The other man says nothing but nods, showing his appreciation for the honest answers that had been provided. “Do you think everyone will hate me if I tell them to send her on her way?”
“No.” Mikey answers him with such conviction Frank knows it’s not a lie. “Do you want me to come with you?” He nods. “Tomorrow?” Another nod.
“Thank you.” In the relief of the moment a small smile graces his lips.
“Are you certain that you want to do this?” The doctor asks him again. After spending a solid week here he might have learnt their names but he had been too wrapped up in his own world to deal with such things.
“I’m sure. She wouldn’t have wanted this.” Frank motions to the copious wires, tubes and machines gathered around her small frame.
“Ok. Say goodbye,” the man smiles kindly and Frank and Mikey both utter their farewells, “Time of death eleven forty-five.”
A month after the funeral Frank still thinks about her all the time, but they’re happy thoughts; memories of the good times they had, of the plans they’d had, the dreams. The funeral had been quiet but it had done her justice. He was back on tour now with his band and he always dedicated a song to her. It was his way of keeping her alive, in his heart and in his mind. He would always love her but her life, and her death, was just a chapter in his. It would be hard but he would move on. Like it or not life went on.
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