If your heart stops beating

~*Frank’s Point of view*~

I walked into the kitchen and rolled my eyes.
“You’re drunk, Gerard.”
He looked at me, giggling.
“No I’m not...”
There was a beer bottle sitting on the table in front of him and he was trying to do up his tie, failing rather miserably. I sat down on the opposite side of the table and took the tie from around his neck, did it up loosely on myself and put it back on him, although why he wanted to wear a tie was beyond me. He giggled again and took a swig from his beer.
“You’re pissed, dude.”
“No...” he said, uncertainly.
I rolled my eyes again. He saw.
“Why are you- what are- why are you doing that for?”
I sighed, standing up, and grabbed his arm just above his elbow.
“You, my friend, need to sleep off some of that alcohol.”
He wrenched his arm out of my grasp, stumbling out of his seat, and steadied himself by grabbing the table.
“What’s your fuckin’ problem, dude, it’s like, can’t I live my like own life here for a minute? Jeez, you’re like, a control freak or something Jesus fucking Christ- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
I stepped back. Shit, he was dangerous when he was like this. Last time I tried to interfere with his drinking, he knocked me out. If I pushed him too much, he might just do something- Shit. What the FUCK do I do now?

~*Gerard’s point of view*~

I saw Frank’s eyes widen in shock as I pulled the gun out of my pocket. I don’t even really remember where I got it. I think I nicked it, I’m not quite sure. The room was spinning around my head, but Frank was a pretty big target. I saw his eyes widen even further, and his face went white. I realised I had just heard a bang and I looked down, slowly. My finger was on the trigger and Frank was on the ground. Oh shit. I lowered my hand as the room slowed its spinning, and then began to whirl even faster. I saw bodies appear in the doorway, Ray and Bob and Mikey.
Suddenly Mikey had flung himself at my waist, pinning my arms to my side.
“Drop it Gerard, please...”
My head was getting clearer by the second and I realised what I had done was real. I dropped the gun.
“Holy shit...”
Ray looked up from where he had dropped to his knees beside Frank.
“You’re damn right it’s holy shit, you fucking killed him!”
Frank turned his head and pressed his hands to his bleeding stomach.
“I’m not dead yet...”
I knelt down next to him, suddenly completely sober.
“Oh my god, Frank, I’m... I’m... I’m such a fucking idiot.”
He chuckled weakly, humourlessly.
“Fuck yeah.”
I took his hand in mine and pressed his cold fingers to my face. His blood was comparatively warm on my skin and I squeezed his hand tightly. Tears stung my eyes and I noticed that with each blink his eyes were opening less and less.
“Hello?”
I jumped, before realising Bob was on his cell phone. “I need an ambulance...” He ran out the door to get better reception. I looked back at Frank.
“Please don’t die...”
His face twitched in a half-smile.
“Famous last words,” he said quietly.
He blinked once, twice, and then his eyes were closed. His eyelids twitched a few times, and then his fingers relaxed in my grip and I could no longer detect the slight rise and fall of his chest.
“No... No, please no...”
Ray was bending over Frank’s face, trying desperately to feel a pulse.
“Nothing.”
I couldn’t let go of Frank’s hand, even though it was icy cold. Then Bob ran in, closely followed by three paramedics. The first one pushed me out of the way and proceeded to rip open Frank’s shirt, while the second unwrapped the cords of the defibrillator and the third turned it on and checked the knobs. Then the first paramedic placed the pads on Frank’s chest and checked no-one was touching him. The second paramedic pressed the button that sent an electric shock through Frank, with a sickening thumping sound that brought tears to my eyes again. I turned away to face Mikey, who was standing behind me, and he wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his face in my shoulder. I could feel his tears through my thin shirt and I shivered as I thought of the fact that Frank was almost as dear to me as Mikey, and I had tried to kill him.
The thumping stopped, and I turned around. Paramedics numbers two and three were smiling. Paramedic one still looked grim, but I assumed that was his natural expression.
“He’s alive,” He grunted. “We’re going to take him into the Emergency Centre. Hopefully he’ll live.”
They transported Frank onto the stretcher they had brought with them, and as the first and second Paramedics carried him out, the third Paramedic, who was packing up the defibrillator, grinned at us.
“Don’t mind Francis. He’s just a pessimist. Your friend will be just fine. We can’t take any more people in the ambulance right now, but if you want, come down to the central hospital and ask to see him. Most likely he’ll be in Ward 6. Oh, and it might be helpful for us to know his name!”
“Fr- Frank. Frank Iero.”
He grinned. “Iero, how do you spell that?”
“I-E-R-O.”
“Brilliant.”
Francis the Paramedic yelled outside, and Paramedic three grinned at us again and left hurriedly with the defibrillator. Mikey wiped his eyes and looked at me, the kind of look that pierces straight through you.
“Mind telling us what happened?”