Teeth

I must have laid there staring at the blank wall for several hours, my mind shifting uneasily from thought to thought drowsy with drugs. Every now and then I would hear the rattle of a gurney and a murmur of voices snake down the hall, but mostly I was by myself.

Where were my parents? Quinn? Visitors? Was I really... gray nothingness?

I sighed and closed my eyes, the white wall still glowing under my eyelids.

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"Hey hon," a voice said next to me, and I jerked into awareness. I lazily turned my head to see a nurse holding a tray next to the foot of my bed, peering down at me. "How are you feeling?"

"Really weak," I said truthfully.

She nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure you do, you lost a lot of blood."

"Lost blood?" I repeated, confused.

"You cut your side during your fall, and the scrapes bled heavily too. We're trying to find a donor soon for you, dear, but until then just take it easy. Moving around a whole bunch could open up the wounds again and you could go into shock or worse..."

"Worse?" I questioned.

She laughed cheerfully. "If you just relax and heal you won't have to worry about it." She winked. "Well I have some food for you here, do you think you can eat?"

I shook my head wearily. Eating sounded disgusting.

The nurse nodded knowingly, then placed the tray on the side table near my bed. "Well... if you get hungry later..."

I nodded.

"Okay, dear." She started to click out the door, but whirled around. "Oh! I got word that your parents couldn't make it today, but they'll be here first thing tomorrow." She smiled chirpily and swept out the door.

I looked dejectedly at the food next to my bed and sighed.

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I woke up in what felt like the middle of the night.

The lights that had been glaringly bright were now shut off or dimmed to a soft yellow color, and there was silence in the hallway except for an occasional patient or doctor shuffling along.

The worst part about hospitals is you have a lot of time to think.

Too much time.

Gerard... What exactly was up with him? My mind tirelessly grappled with this question, turning over the contents of my mind and sorting through fragments of truths. Why would Gerard have the same aura as a ghost? Could he be a ghost too? Mentally, my mind screamed. This was all too confusing!

It was then in the midst of my thoughts that I felt the stiff mattress give under a body, and the plastic sheets rustle noisily. My eyes flashed open and I froze as I felt warm breath on the back of my neck. An arm slipped around my waist and I bit my lip to suppress a scream.

Um, don't mind me lying in bed here. It's obviously open for random people to just CLIMB INTO.

A vision of Rosaline lying beside me with her dead eyes watching the back of my head, her cold lips peeling back to blackened gums, and her face inching towards me flew across my mind.

Next to me, my heart rate monitor steadily increased in speed.

Calm down, I tried to tell myself, just turn over to see what--who it is...

Okay, maybe rolling over violently with a small shriek wasn't "calmly". My wounds flamed with pain even through the drugs as I flipped over, and I clenched the plastic sheets with a clammy hand while taking in the intruder's identity.

"Quinn?" I asked incredulously, my eyes meeting his bright blue ones inches from my face.

His mouth was dropped open in surprise, and distantly I could feel him snap his hand back from my waist. "Ehhh," he choked out, looking at a loss for words, "hi."

"Why are you--what are you--?" I stammered, then winced as the pain on my side and back sank it fangs into my nerves again.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking alarmed and guilty at my expression. "I'm sorry, I just..." He trailed off, looking away.

You just what? Wanted to have a sleepover?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. "But do you mind me asking why you decided to sneak in here?"

He bit his lip nervously. "Um, I thought you might be, er, scared or, lonely or... something." He grimaced and looked away.

"You're a terrible liar," I accused, watching him squirm under my gaze.

"Frank," he whined, his voice pleading to just drop it.

I stared at him, and that annoying little tick of suspicion in the back of my head nudged into my subconscious again, but I pushed it away roughly. "Quinn, will you just explain already?"

He closed his eyes, obviously having an internal battle, then locked on mine again. His lips were drawn into a determined line, and his brows furrowed. "Do you really want to know?" He asked softly.

I considered the look on his face guardedly. What could my best friend have to tell me that I didn't already know about him? Was it concerning Rosaline? No... that wouldn't have anything to do with him climbing into bed with me. He couldn't possibly---?

"Yeah," I said, realizing it was quite obvious I was over-thinking this. It was probably something stupid, like him being afraid of hospitals. I mean, this is concerning the boy that singed off one of his own eyebrows in chemistry class.

What giant secret could a guy like him have?

"Ummppff--!" I let out a muffled exclamation of surprise as I was suddenly rocked sideways onto my back, my head being pressed down to the pillow by Quinn's lips. His eager mouth was foreign and wet on mine, and my body seized up in alarm as Quinn leaned onto the uninjured parts of my chest and waist.

I was completely unresponsive, my thoughts looking like thousands of bouncy balls rocketing uselessly around the interior of my skull. Somewhere, that niggling sense of suspicion was cackling, mocking me.

It was quiet except for the sound of Quinn panting and the crunching of the plastic sheets as he finally forced my lips to part with his tongue. I felt too weak to fight back, the drugs numbing my body and lips. And the person doing this was my best friend...

He had also stolen my first kiss, I realized faintly. This wasn't what I thought kissing was like at all. It was wet, noisy, and strange. Nothing about it felt romantic or loving. Just mouths moving together and saliva mixing.

With some effort I managed to disconnect my lips from his, but he just moved to my neck, working the flesh there between his lips and teeth. I looked up past Quinn's shoulder and head to the dim ceiling above, my hands clenched on the stiff, sterile sheets.

"Quinn," I finally managed to gasp through my shock, "what are you--"

"Shhh," Quinn hushed me breathlessly, turning to hold my face between his shaking hands, his face inches from mine. "How did you not see this coming? It's supposed--" he planted a wet kiss on my lips "--to be like this." He lowered his mouth to mine again, and I planted my hands on his shoulders to try and fend him off.

"No," I tried to protest, "we're just frien--"

He muffled my words with his tongue, and I laid there helplessly, my scrapes burning in agony restricting my struggles. Something like panic was rising in my throat, and I strained one last time against his shoulders.

"Ouch!" I yelped, feeling my skin tear like hot wax from my restless movements. Wetness began to run over the flesh of my chest and side, then I could smell the tell-tale scent of iron.

"What?" Quinn pulled back alarmed by my tone of voice, and I hissed in pain, hardly able to breath. It felt like my flesh was alive with pain; my lungs filled with fire. "Frank!"

"What are you two dumb asses doing?" The lights flashed on blindingly, exposing Quinn almost straddling me and my face contorted in pain.

Gerard loomed in the door way, his eyes seething.

Quinn leapt off the bed in a streak of bleached blonde hair, snagging his foot on the metal leg and almost collapsing on his face.

For the first time in my life I was glad to see Gerard.

"Gerard," I whispered hoarsely, "it hurts."

Zero cool points for Frank.

Gerard narrowed his eyes at me. "You're bleeding," he stated, then strode forward and whipped back the itchy blue hospital blanket covering me. I flinched, then looked down to see rich red blood leaking over the plastic sheets and soaking my shirt.

"Why is there so much?!" Quinn shrieked from the side, his hands clenching the metal frame of the bed.

"Get some fucking help," Gerard snapped, his eyes looking a weird yellow color in the fluorescent lighting. "NOW," he added in a roar when Quinn continued to stand there, dumbfounded.

He scuttled out of the room, leaving me alone with Gerard.

"Huh," I said quietly, "I don't feel anything anymore..."

"Don't say such pointless things," Gerard growled, his eyes not on me but the spreading puddle of blood. "Just don't close your eyes dammit."

The weird thing was, I felt really fucking weak. How much blood had I lost before this? "Man, what a lame way to die," I coughed, and more blood oozed out of my side, dripping heavily to the white linoleum below.

"Fool," he said angrily, "If you shut the fuck up you won't die."

"Who would have thought... a few scrapes..."

"You sliced your side on a rusty gutter too," Gerard added unhelpfully.

My vision swam, and I felt like I was physically fading away right in front of him. With the last of my strength, I lifted one hand and caught hold of his long black coat, holding on weakly. My eyes were open but I couldn't see anything, just darkness. "Don't..." I croaked, "...let me die gray..."

"What?" Gerard asked, actually sounding alarmed, but I couldn't see his face. "Hey, stop this over-dramatic shit---WHERE ARE THE FUCKING DOCTORS?! Hey, hey, listen to me..."

"It's funny..."

"What?"

I coughed thickly, my hand falling from his coat.

"Hey, hey! What is it?"

"I think this is... the nicest... you've ever been... to me."

I felt small fizzles of electricity run through my blood and I realized that he must be touching me somewhere. But they were so weak. I was so weak.

Then, before I died, I heard someone say "Just a taste."