When Love and Death Embrace

Over the next two weeks, I fell into repetition of events. Frank was a walking body empty of everything he used to be. At nights he cried himself to sleep clinging to that same jacket. If school had started back up, I knew for sure that he would have skipped. His eyes had lost that shine, his smile was stripped from his face, only to be replaced with chapped lines that showed no emotion. His body was stoic, but on the inside I could feel his pain. Everyone was at least trying to move on, but not him. He feared letting go of me, but I wanted him to. If he didn’t it would kill him, and I couldn’t stand for that.

I spent every moment with him, even though the surrounding always seemed to stay the same. He never left his room most of the time. He couldn’t even bring himself to leave his bed, so I would lay there with him. Dying to pull him close to me so I could hold him, to kiss him softly and let him know that I was okay and that I was still there. If anything, I just wanted him to know I was there. I couldn’t handle watching as he destroyed himself.

He was laying in bed again, his blank stare was on the back of his door. He had been up for a good three hours and had yet to leave his spot. I was behind him, with my arm draped over his waist. My face was buried into the back of his head.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I whispered and sighed rubbing his arm.
“I wish there was something I could do baby, it’s killing me to see you like this.” I added before his door opened up slowly. It was his Mom that stood there with a frown on her face.
“Are you going to come out today hun?” he never answered and she nodded before walking over and sat on the edge of his bed. She ran her hand through his hair before gripping his shoulder.
“You need to come out sometime. I know that you’re hurting, but this isn’t helping. He wouldn’t want you to stay like this Frank. Think how he would feel if he saw you right now? This isn’t you,” she explained, and she was right. If only he could realize that, but he didn’t, because he just laid there.
“Do you want to talk?” still nothing. I laid back down and kissed his clothed shoulder blade. I wanted some kind of reaction. Anything other than crying and silence. But for those two weeks, nothing changed.

----

It was on a Friday, the 24th when something weird happened. All that morning when I laid with him, I felt detached. Like part of me was missing, and it had made me restless. But things only got worse, because suddenly I found myself back into that empty blackness like the night I had died. Only this time I didn’t freak out nearly as bad. I knew something was going to happen, but what? I sat there for what felt like days, in darkness. With nobody to talk to, with no Frank to watch, it was like being held in a prison. At least that detached feeling had left and I no longer felt restless.

After a long while I began to hear a steady beeping, and for the first time in weeks I was breathing. It was relief to feel that air entering my lungs, but I could smell something. It was distinct and strong, almost like a hospital. I could feel something under my hands, it felt like a blanket, but when I looked I saw nothing.
“What in the world,” I mumbled to myself. Everything was like a row of switches, and every few minutes a new one was flipped on. I could hear people walking by and talking, only there was still nothing there. A sharp pain, a migraine hit me hard out of nowhere and I closed my eyes while I rubbed my forehead.
“I really don’t like this,” I sighed, and when I opened my eyes all I saw was white. I blinked a few times, the brightness faded and I could make out the ceiling. The beeping was louder and when I looked to my side I saw machines. The breathing tube in my nose had made my skin raw and I clawed at it, sighing when it was gone.
“Thank God,” someone choked and I looked over to see who it was, only I didn’t recognize them. They rushed over, his body was lanky, and he had a pair of black rimmed glasses that rested on the lower part of his nose.
“Are you okay? Are you in pain? I’ll get the nurses, I just want to know that you’re okay.” he panicked. I had no idea who he was, and I wanted to say that, but he seemed to care about my predicament. At the moment all I could think was that maybe I had been dreaming, that I had only been injured in the accident and I had woken up. The throbbing in my skull came back and I shut my eyes, rubbing it with my hand. There was a bandage there, so I guess that was why it hurt so bad.
“My head hurts,” I mumbled, my voice sounding different. He nodded and ran out of the room in a rush.
“Shit,” I winced before pushing myself up. My whole body ached, and each time I moved felt like I was hitting bruises with a hammer. I crossed my legs and sighed dropping my face into my hands. Confused when I felt hair fall in front of my face. I picked my head back up eying the black locks and scrunched my face up trying to figure it out. Had I been out that long? But even if I had, my hair wasn’t black. It was then that I noticed just how pale my arms were. Only taking a closer look at them, I realized that the scar that had once traveled from my wrist along the side to my thumb was gone.
“Mr. Way, I’m glad to see you’re awake.” I looked over for the new face.
“What?” I asked with wide eyes. Who the hell was he talking about? The one who had left looked at me with a worried expression.
“You were asleep Gerard, they didn’t know if you were going to wake up.” he stated slowly, I wasn’t stupid, I was confused.
“No not that. I don’t know who you’re talking about, that’s what I meant.” his eyes widened in what looked like shock and the Doctor only sighed. He walked over and sat down a file.
“Now Gerard, I’m going to ask you a few questions. I want you to answer them with the best of your ability ok?”
“Ok, fine, whatever.” were they the stupid ones?
“Could you tell me what your full name is Gerard?” I shook my head.
“Stop calling me that, it’s not my name. I have no idea who this Gerard guy is, but it’s not me.” I stated, coming off meaner than I wanted to. He nodded before taking a light and shined it in my eyes for a few moments. He asked me more questions, but I didn’t give him the answers that he wanted. The boy with him only seemed to be heart broken with each failing answer, after he was done they both left and I groaned rubbing my face. All I wanted to know was what the hell was going on.

About an hour later, the boy returned. His eyes puffy and I felt bad.
“They said that you have amnesia Gerard.” he sat back down. I looked over at him and sighed.
“I don’t have amnesia, trust me. But I’m sure as hell not this Gerard guy. I’m probably stuck in another fucking dream. Then I’ll wake up and realize that I’m dead again. So I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I didn’t mean too.” he nodded looking at his lap. I pulled at the shirt that they had given me to change into. I happily gave up the scrubs that I was in.
“Mom and Dad didn’t make it,” he whispered and I looked back over at him. His eyes were watery as he pushed his glasses back up. I sighed, he had lost his parents?
“I’m sorry, I really am. But I have absolutely no idea who they are, and I have no idea who you are.” I got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom. When I was younger and I would have nightmares, I found that splashing my face with cold water always woke me up. But when I turned on the light I was met with a stranger in the mirror. I froze staring at him for the longest time.
“Gerard, are you okay?” he asked walking up behind me.
“Who is that?” as I pointed, the guy in the mirror did the same. He looked at me before looking at the mirror, a frown on his face.
“That’s you, Gerard.” he answered. I shook my head and walked over to the sink, turning it on cold I splashed the water in my face and looked up in the mirror, only it was the same face looking back at me.
“No,” I splashed more but the face never changed. I groaned, my head hitting the mirror.
“It’s not a dream,” I admitted to myself and looked at the person staring back at me. Everything made sense now, the hair, the pale skin, and my missing scar. How everyone was calling me Gerard. Of course they thought I had amnesia, I didn’t know who this person was. But now I knew that I wasn’t me, I was no longer David Wilkins, now I was Gerard Way.