I'm Not Okay Without You
I Wont Let Them Take You From Me
Chapter 33
Frank’s POV
It’s been days, weeks, in fact, since Gerard got shot. I’ve stayed by him as much as possible. By now I know almost all the nurses. They always greet me when I come in and say goodbye when I’m leaving. Each one of them are always cheerful, always acting like people aren’t about to die in that god forsaken place every single second of every single day. But I just smile back, because I don’t want them to think I’m some bitter emo punk that can’t handle a goddamn thing.
Every time I enter that room to see Gerard unmoving, pale, alone, lifeless… I die just a little more inside. Sometimes I can swear he moved, but my rational mind keeps telling me that it’s my imagination.
Honestly, I’m emotionally drained. I can’t even cry for him anymore, but that familiar stinging behind my eyes lets me know I should be.
I’m running late today because my alarm clock broke yesterday when I got so frustrated with my numbness that I trashed my apartment. The clock actually got thrown against my wall, leaving a hole and cracking the face. To be blunt, though, I could care less. That stupid fucking alarm clock can be replaced, unlike my Gerard. By the time I got to the elevator it had to be 11:30 a.m. or so.
“Damn it,” I swore, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and incessantly pounding on the button. When the elevator doors finally opened I had to wait for some people to get out, but it left me with an empty elevator. Immediately I pushed the 3rd floor button and the “close elevator doors” one as well. The doors opened again and I forced a faux smile onto my face, willing myself to wave at the nurses just like every day before heading to my angel’s room.
“Hey, Gerard, it’s me again,” I whispered, stroking his hair and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. Another piece of my soul died when he didn’t say anything. This kid is killing me. A line of water rimmed my bottom eyelids, but only one tear escaped.
“Hi Mr. Iero,” the doctor’s voice said. I hadn’t bothered to learn his name.
“You can call me Frank,” I said, wiping my cheek and turning around.
“Okay Frank,” he said in a condescending tone. I ground my teeth together, hating the way he said my name like he was humoring a small child. “I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”
“Sure,” I said, fighting to keep my tone casual.
“We don’t see much improvement in Gerard,” he began, “and we feel that we should just pull the plug.”
“What?!” I yelled, fighting to keep my voice at a reasonable level. “How dare you say that?! My baby will get out of this! I know he will! He’s strong. Much stronger than most of your patients!”
“Frank, don’t yell at the doctor.” I noticed Mikey leaning against the door. “He’s right.”
“Mikey, how can you say that?” I said softly before rage found it’s way to the surface again. “He’s your fucking brother! No, I’m not letting you take him off the life support. He will get up, I just know it!” I screamed, sitting in the chair next to Gee’s bed and grabbing his hand, keeping my eyes on him.
“Frank,” the doctor said in that condescending tone that I just love, “just think about it.” I heard footsteps leading out of the door and into the hallway.
“Mikey,” I whispered, bowing my head and concentrating on the floor. “I don’t want you near your brother if you want to let him die after he saved your life. I won’t let you do that.” It was obvious he was about to say something by his intake of breath. “GET THE FUCK OUT!” I screamed desperately. Gerard doesn’t need someone who thinks he won’t come out of it in the room. I was still grinding my teeth together in frustration when I felt a very soft pressure on my hand. At first I rode it off as my imagination, but then I felt it again. My head immediately went up and I studied Gerard.
“Gerard… Sweetie, are you up?” I asked hopefully. My answer came in the form of pressure on my hand again.
“See, Mikey? He’s trying to get out of this. Look, he’s squeezing my hand.”
“Oh my god, he is getting up,” Mikey whispered.
“Gee,” I said, turning my attention back to Gerard, “I’ll be here when you get up. I’m not leaving your side.” He squeezed my hand again before his breathing seemed to even out. It was obvious he had fallen back asleep. Mikey took a seat on Gerard’s opposite side. I forced myself not to glare at him as I settled in for a long wait, Gerard’s hand still in mine.
Frank’s POV
It’s been days, weeks, in fact, since Gerard got shot. I’ve stayed by him as much as possible. By now I know almost all the nurses. They always greet me when I come in and say goodbye when I’m leaving. Each one of them are always cheerful, always acting like people aren’t about to die in that god forsaken place every single second of every single day. But I just smile back, because I don’t want them to think I’m some bitter emo punk that can’t handle a goddamn thing.
Every time I enter that room to see Gerard unmoving, pale, alone, lifeless… I die just a little more inside. Sometimes I can swear he moved, but my rational mind keeps telling me that it’s my imagination.
Honestly, I’m emotionally drained. I can’t even cry for him anymore, but that familiar stinging behind my eyes lets me know I should be.
I’m running late today because my alarm clock broke yesterday when I got so frustrated with my numbness that I trashed my apartment. The clock actually got thrown against my wall, leaving a hole and cracking the face. To be blunt, though, I could care less. That stupid fucking alarm clock can be replaced, unlike my Gerard. By the time I got to the elevator it had to be 11:30 a.m. or so.
“Damn it,” I swore, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and incessantly pounding on the button. When the elevator doors finally opened I had to wait for some people to get out, but it left me with an empty elevator. Immediately I pushed the 3rd floor button and the “close elevator doors” one as well. The doors opened again and I forced a faux smile onto my face, willing myself to wave at the nurses just like every day before heading to my angel’s room.
“Hey, Gerard, it’s me again,” I whispered, stroking his hair and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. Another piece of my soul died when he didn’t say anything. This kid is killing me. A line of water rimmed my bottom eyelids, but only one tear escaped.
“Hi Mr. Iero,” the doctor’s voice said. I hadn’t bothered to learn his name.
“You can call me Frank,” I said, wiping my cheek and turning around.
“Okay Frank,” he said in a condescending tone. I ground my teeth together, hating the way he said my name like he was humoring a small child. “I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”
“Sure,” I said, fighting to keep my tone casual.
“We don’t see much improvement in Gerard,” he began, “and we feel that we should just pull the plug.”
“What?!” I yelled, fighting to keep my voice at a reasonable level. “How dare you say that?! My baby will get out of this! I know he will! He’s strong. Much stronger than most of your patients!”
“Frank, don’t yell at the doctor.” I noticed Mikey leaning against the door. “He’s right.”
“Mikey, how can you say that?” I said softly before rage found it’s way to the surface again. “He’s your fucking brother! No, I’m not letting you take him off the life support. He will get up, I just know it!” I screamed, sitting in the chair next to Gee’s bed and grabbing his hand, keeping my eyes on him.
“Frank,” the doctor said in that condescending tone that I just love, “just think about it.” I heard footsteps leading out of the door and into the hallway.
“Mikey,” I whispered, bowing my head and concentrating on the floor. “I don’t want you near your brother if you want to let him die after he saved your life. I won’t let you do that.” It was obvious he was about to say something by his intake of breath. “GET THE FUCK OUT!” I screamed desperately. Gerard doesn’t need someone who thinks he won’t come out of it in the room. I was still grinding my teeth together in frustration when I felt a very soft pressure on my hand. At first I rode it off as my imagination, but then I felt it again. My head immediately went up and I studied Gerard.
“Gerard… Sweetie, are you up?” I asked hopefully. My answer came in the form of pressure on my hand again.
“See, Mikey? He’s trying to get out of this. Look, he’s squeezing my hand.”
“Oh my god, he is getting up,” Mikey whispered.
“Gee,” I said, turning my attention back to Gerard, “I’ll be here when you get up. I’m not leaving your side.” He squeezed my hand again before his breathing seemed to even out. It was obvious he had fallen back asleep. Mikey took a seat on Gerard’s opposite side. I forced myself not to glare at him as I settled in for a long wait, Gerard’s hand still in mine.