Adolescent Suicide

“Mercy. Mercy, babe. Wake up.”

Her blue eyes fluttered open and came face to face with Gerard’s hazel hues. He was leaning over her, his brow furrowed in worry, biting at his bottom lip. His hand was gently placed on her shoulder, where he had been shaking her. She had just had another one of those horrible nightmares, her third during the night. Sweat covered her body, and the blankets were wrapped around her tightly.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” she muttered, pushing him away so that she could sit up.

Gerard moved away from her, but stayed sitting on the bed. He watched as she rubbed both of her hands over her face, groaning. He had watched her as she kicked, moaned, and cried in her sleep for the past half hour. At first, he hadn’t wanted to wake her, afraid that he would be the next person she attacked, but when it started getting worse, when she started flipping shit in her sleep, he knew he had to.

“Mercy? Do you want to talk about it?”

She arched a brow as she peeled her hands away from her face. “What are you talking about, Gee?” she asked, placing her hands in her lap. She hoped that he didn’t notice how much they were shaking, or the pure panic that was coursing through her veins. She was so fucking scared, even though she didn’t think she should be. He was gone and it was over.

He narrowed his eyes. “About your dreams, Merc. You’ve been fighting something for the past half hour, scaring all of us.”

Looking around, she realized that he was not the only one in the room. Mikey sat next to Bob on his bed, an ice pack pressed firmly to his left eye. Next to him was Ray, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so tightly that his knuckles were white. Sicily had her legs across Bob’s lap, holding him to her chest.

They were all worried about her.

Half hour? It seemed like so much longer than that in her dream. It seemed like she had been fighting The Faithless for days on end. Her body was wore out, her mind even more fragile than it had been before. Tears threatened to leak from the confines of her body as she fought with the blankets, trying to get them off of her. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to feel so naked before them.

“I’m fine. I wish you guys would drop it,” she muttered as she finally freed herself, pushing Gerard aside as she stood tall between the two mattresses.

She shook her head and made towards the bathroom, but Bob’s voice made her pause, one hand gripping at the edge of the doorway.

“And I wish that you would just fucking open up to us!”

A tear moved down her cheek, clinging perilously from her jaw. Mercy clenched her eyes shut and bowed her head. Fuck, she knew he was right. He was so right. But they didn’t understand. They had no idea what she felt like at the moment. They had no idea what it was like to be so damn abused. They didn’t know what it was like to watch the life leave someone, someone that she had killed herself, with her hands.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered.

The sound of creaking on the bed reached her ears, and then a pair of muscular arms were wrapped around her. She could faintly smell Bob’s cologne as he held her close, his body shaking with sobs. He held her so tightly, she could barely breath. Mercy turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head into his broad chest. She started to feel her resolve leave her, making her feel weak and exposed.

“Make me understand. Fuck, Mercy. I’m so scared. Please,” Bob murmured, placing his face in her messed up hair.

“He hurt me, Bobert. He hurt me so much, in so many ways. A-and,” she paused, choking on the sobs that were starting to empty out of her, “And then I killed him. Do you know what that feels like? I watched as his life left his body. I watched, his eyes locked on mine, as he fell to the ground, unable to speak, unable to curse me for what I had done. I KILLED HIM!”

She wrenched herself out of his arms, colliding with the wall behind her. “I fucking killed him! I took his soul, damn it! It doesn’t matter what he had done to me before. No one deserves to die like that! His blood is on my hands! Can’t you see that!? His death is my fault!” she screamed, clenching her hands at her side.

Mercy was at the edge. She was losing herself. It was her own fault. She had no one else to blame. Her chest heaved with her breathing as she clung to the wall, tears falling like the rain outside. She had never felt so horrible in her life. Maybe she deserved the dreams. Now that she thought about it, maybe she did deserve everything he did to her. Mercy was a shitty person, taking his life.

“It’s not your fault, Mercy. It’s not. He deserved it. He shouldn’t have done that to you. He had no right, hurting you like that,” Gerard said, moving to stand beside Bob, who was gaping at his sister.

She shook her head but said nothing. One hand came up to shakily wipe away one of the tears that fell. She had nothing else to say. Bob had wanted her to talk, and she had. Now, she just wanted to shower and go see Frank. She wanted to see those beautiful hazel eyes. She wanted him to take the pain away, like she knew he would. Without a word, or even a glance, Mercy turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

**********

Mercy took her shower, dressed, then went back into the bedroom. The talking that had been going on stopped completely, and they all looked at her expectantly. She bit at her bottom lip and thrust her hands into her back pockets. “Let’s go see Frank,” she said quietly, shaking some of her black hair out of her face, trying to forget about the outburst that she had had earlier, and hoping that they would too.

They nodded and began heading out. Mikey lingered, waiting for her. With a smile, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I’m proud of you Merc,” he whispered before letting her go and following the rest of the group out of the hotel room.

She stood there in the bedroom, her head tilted back and her eyes directed at the ceiling. Tears were threatening to fall once more as she remembered just the other night, when Frank had muttered those words to her. Mercy let out a little whimper and began bouncing up and down on her toes, trying to keep everything in. She knew that it was just going to be worse at the hospital. She didn’t want to lose herself completely yet.

“You coming?” Ray asked, poking his head back in, his brow furrowed.

Mercy stopped moving and nodded, taking a deep breath. She would be strong, damn it. She would.

The ride to the hospital, for the most part, was completely silent. She was pressed in between Ray and Bob in the backseat of the van. She kept her eyes directed to the passing city, ignoring the worried looks she was still getting from her brother. He reached over and took her hand in his, and she was glad that he didn’t say anything. She bit at her bottom lip and laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

Finally, the van came to a halt. They all piled out and headed inside. The nurse gave them directions to Frank’s room. The band allowed her to go in first, even though she would’ve rather waited a bit to collect herself. Mercy pushed open the large beige door and stepped in, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of hospital that was starting to make her stomach flip. She moved around the wall that was blocking Frank from few and stifled a gasp.

He was laying there with tubes coming out of every part of him. A large bandage was the only thing covering the left part of his chest, above his heart. His face was pale, and he had an oxygen mask plastered to his face. Beeping noises came out of machines placed at his bedside, monitoring everything to ensure that nothing was going wrong. He looked fucking horrible. And she couldn’t help but blame herself for that. Fuck, she felt so horrible.

Mercy moved over to sit next to him in a straight-backed plastic maroon chair. She reached down and took his calloused hand in between her two smaller ones, bringing it to her lips as she silently cried. She laid her head down on the railings, gripping onto Frank like no tomorrow. Her shoulders shook as her memories took her back to the day before. She saw the bullet streaking through the sky, saw Frank’s eyes widen. Mercy watched as Bob made to throw himself on top of her boyfriend in an attempt to save him. Once more, she saw Frank’s body twist as the impact of the bullet hit him hard. It was almost like she was there still, watching the crimson droplets, his blood, fly through the air as his body fell to the ground.

“Hey, what’s this? Are you crying, love?”

She lifted her tear filled eyes to see Frank looking at her with hooded eyes, the oxygen mask pulled down around his neck. He brought a hand over and rubbed the tears away, smiling softly. “No crying over me. I’m fine,” he whispered.

I’m fine.

He wasn’t fine. She knew that. Those were the words that everyone used to keep people from worrying. She knew that much, for she did it herself. She knew that Frank was anything but fine. If he were fine, he’d be out of the hospital. If he were fine, he wouldn’t even be in the hospital in the first place. They’d be on their way to the next city, preparing to play for a massive crowd. But they weren’t. They were here, with him, praying and wishing for him to get better.

“Frank, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I’m sorry. I..” she began, shaking her head, but was cut off my Frank covering her mouth with his hand.

“Don’t you ever say that again. It’s not your fault. Do not say you’re sorry. You have no reason to be. I’d do it all over again to save you, you know that. I love you. I love you more than life itself. Don’t you ever fucking forget that Mercy Bryar. I love you,” he said, his voice still quiet, but it held an edge to it.

Mercy nodded, unable to speak. She knew that he loved her. She knew that. But that didn’t stop her from blaming herself. If she hadn’t been such a bitch and done those things to him while he had been sleeping, this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have gotten mad at her, and she wouldn’t have tried to drink herself in a stupid fucking stupor, meaning that The Faithless would’ve never gotten her alone.

“How are you feeling?” she asked after she cleared her throat.

He shifted in the bed, letting out a small grunt. “Awful. My chest hurts, I can’t breathe, I’m starving to death, and I miss you,” he informed her with a sigh.

She chuckled softly and kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger against his warm skin before sitting back in her chair. “When it’s someone else’s turn to come see your handsome face, I’ll get you something to eat. Something real, not the shit they serve here, okay?”

Frank grinned. “Merc, you’re a life safer, you know that?”

Mercy smiled slightly, shaking her head. “You’re drugged.”

He scoffed, looking offended. “Only a little bit!” he exclaimed to the best of his ability.

She rubbed her thumbs over his rough skin. Seeing that he was fine, that he was much better today than he was yesterday, was steadily healing her. Seeing him act completely normal made her mind heal somewhat, along with her heart. She felt like maybe she could breath normally again. Though she wasn’t sure how long it was going to last with him still in the hospital. She needed him with her at all times. Frank was her rock, and as much as she loved everyone else, he was the one who could heal her fully.

A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. Gerard was sticking his head in, an apologetic smile on his face. “Merc? You done yet?”

No. She wasn’t. But she wanted to let everyone else see him.

Mercy nodded and stood, reaching down to kiss Frank gently. She made to pull away, but Frank grabbed her and pulled her back, deepening the kiss. If his lips were medicine, they had just healed her completely. She broke the kiss, grinning. He brought his hand up and skimmed her jaw line with his finger tips.

“I missed that,” he whispered.

“Me too. I’m going to get you something to eat. I love you, Frank,” she said, kissing his forehead.

“I love you too, Mercy.”