Wrong Number (Frerard)

t h i r t y o n e

I opened my eyes slowly, the first thing popping into my mind being I finally actually slept.

I couldn't sleep for half the night, I was too excited to see Frank. My stomach was twisting and turning but in a sort of good way. I was so fucking excited and I just couldn't wait to see my (maybe) crush.

The second thing I realized was that it was still dark outside. I couldn't really think straight; I was tired and excited, two things that shouldn't always mix.
It wasn't until I saw my mom run into my room that I realized she'd been calling for me the whole time.

"Gerard," she finally said, sounding somewhat out of breath. She looked tired and alarmed. Something was wrong.

I finally pushed myself up into a sitting position and rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up more. "What happened?" I mumbled tiredly.

My mom grabbed my arm and pulled me up. "I'll explain on the way. Let's go."

Before I knew it, I was in the passenger seat of the car. I was still trying to wake up, and I had no idea what was even happening.

"Mom?" I said after a moment.
"Hm?" she sounded rushed and her voice was slightly shaky. "Oh, right. It's about Mikey."

My mind was immediately swarmed with worried possibilities, and I realized that my normal calm state was quickly being replaced with a scared version of myself that I've never liked. I couldn't find a way to ask my mom to go on, but I didn't have to.

"He was driving early this morning. He was texting. He got in a wreck." her voice turned soft and I was worried she wasn't going to be able to drive anymore.

It took a moment for it to actually sink in that my brother, Mikey Way, got in a car wreck. But when it did, I almost started crying. So many emotions came over me all at once and I knew it wouldn't be long before I might have a panic attack. I took deep breaths and stared out the window for a long moment, trying to stay calm.

"Is he okay?" I asked after a good few minutes.

"I don't know," was all my mom said.

I took more deep breaths, finally being able to realize where we were going. The hospital.

It was another little while before we got there. I followed my mom into the waiting room and sat down as she went up to the front desk.

I was about to reach into my pocket to get my phone and tell Frank what happened, when I realized that I didn't have my phone. Of course I didn't. I didn't have time to grab it before my mom dragged me out of the room.

I sat silently for a little while until my mom told me to stand up and come with her to see Mikey. I was so scared. I hated hospitals. I hated everything about them. I didn't want to see Mikey in a hospital bed. I couldn't handle that. I wanted to go home. But I needed to make sure he was okay.

I stood up slowly and followed my mom through the hospital and finally to Mikey's room. She told me to wait outside for a moment, and I didn't protest.

As I waited, I bit at my fingers. Mostly my knuckles. It was a habit I picked up in elementary school after being so bored and having nothing to do. I would bite and play with my knuckles because it gave me some sort of entertainment and pleasure at the time. After a while, I stopped doing it, but I would occasionally go back to the habit when I was scared or nervous.

A few calm looking nurses passed by as I waited, sending me fake smiles that just made me feel worse. Mikey, of all people, did not deserve this. For the first time in a really long time, I felt tears threatening to escape my eyes. I wasn't going to cry though, I couldn't. Not after so long of holding the tears back.

My mom appeared in the doorway to the room. "Go in without me."

I nodded in response and slowly walked inside after she walked out. I tried not to listen to the flat line machine or look at the things surrounding the bed as I closed the door behind me.

When I finally walked up to the bed, I focused only on Mikey. I drowned out all sound and just stared at him. He was awake, and he looked terrified. His eyes were red as if he'd been crying and then I realized that he still was crying.

I slowly sat down in the chair next to the bed and stared at him silently for a moment longer before speaking. "You shouldn't text and drive, you fucking idiot," I really did mean it, but my voice cracked in the middle of my sentence.

"I know," he replied, his voice faded and distant. I heard him sniffle and then clear his throat. "I'm so sorry, Gee. I didn't mean to..."

And then I lost it. I started to cry harder than I ever have in my life. My shoulders shook as I just stared down at my lap, trying so hard to stop crying but not being able to. I could hear Mikey speaking but I couldn't understand what he was saying. I hugged myself and started taking shaky breaths, trying to avoid the panic attack that was coming.

"Gerard!" I finally heard Mikey's voice and I looked up quickly to see him staring at me with this terrified, yet stern look. "Deep breaths," he continued, "Focus on your breathing. Focus on me."

This wasn't right. Mikey could be dying yet he was still the one comforting me. I tried to tell him to stop but when I tried to talk it only made breathing harder.

"Gerard, deep fucking breaths," Mikey said, and I listened, taking slow deep breaths and staring at him until I wasn't crying anymore and I could breath normally.

And then I looked down at my lap again and sniffled and wiped my tears. This was too much. I was ready to go home.

But then I realized what was supposed to happen today. I was supposed to meet Frank.

•••

Is this stereotypical? Probably. Sorry.

Hope you don't hate me too much.

Please leave some comments even if they're about your hate for me. Whoops.

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