Bulletproof Heart... Or Is It?

He lay in a bed. It had white sheets, white pillows, and was surrounded by the same off-white walls. A pale figure, with blazing red hair lay silently, needle after needle in his body, hooked up to beeping machines. The faint sounds of a normal hospital could be heard from outside the small room. Twenty four hours ago, this small, private room was unoccupied. That was until the man laying in the bed was rushed into the private hospital, severely bleeding.

Gerard Way had been shot.

No, he wasn't robbed for his money, and his wife didn't want to inherit his fortune. In all honesty, the hit man wasn't even aiming for him. He was aiming for the man next to Gerard. The man that covered himself in permanent art, forever etched into his skin. Gerard's band mate, his rhythm guitarist, his best friend in the entire world: Frank Iero.

It was a snowy night in January. A My Chemical Romance show had just finished in their home state of New Jersey. A tall figure, who looked to be in his fourties, stood nearby the back exit of the venue, the exact one where they would exit, and get on their tour bus. He stood out in the cold winter air, silently waiting. When the band finally exited, bursting with laughter and chatter, he raised his gun and aimed. Frank froze, seeing the unknown man pointing a gun straight at his chest. Gerard also saw this and quickly jumped in front of his best friend. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that moment. A loud echoing gun shot surrounded everywhere nearby, soon followed by a loud gut wrenching scream, before a Gerard fell down onto the hard ice ground. Blood quickly seeped through his clothes as the man escaped, luckily, due to frantic movements of the other band members. They all quickly realised that Gerard had taken a bullet to his chest.

The internet was soon filling up with rumours of the terrible event, only 15 minutes after it occurred, but it would take twenty four hours before all their fans in the world heard about the rumours. Surely it would be all over the news, maybe a front page story. Their suspitions became true. The headlines were certainly beautiful, a similar title printed on almost every newspaper across America:

Victim of Gun Rage Identified as Lead Singer of Rock Band, My Chemical Romance.

Yes, this would be all the gossip for weeks worldwide for the fans, but for now, his friends and family waited for evermore, patiently, on the top floor of the private hospital, whilst his doctors did everything they could for Gerard in the Surgery Room. Meanwhile, the waiting room was thick with an awkward but consoling silence. Lyn-z cried on Ray's shoulder. Ray attempted to console her by whispering "it'll be okay, Gerard's strong," and, "don't worry, he'll come out of this good as new," even though none of them really believed that. Would Gerard even make it through? Mikey sat across from them, tear stained face buried in his hands, worrying about his older brother. Frank sat next to him in shock, as if his brain hadn't registered what had happened to Gerard.

Gerard... Gerard had taked a bullet for him. Gerard Way had really saved his life. Why? Frank couldn't fathom the idea that his best friend in the entire world, a man that thousands of people aroun the world look up to, a man that he had secretly loved more than his own wife Jamia had been shot, because of him. Je shook his head. The idea of it gave him a headache. Gerard was in critical condition because of him.

"Frank?" someone asked. Frank blinked his eyes a couple of times, trying hard to focus. He had completely forgotten about everyone else in the room.

"What?" he asked, realising everybody was staring at him.

"I asked if you were okay?" Ray asked cautiously, "you look really out of it, man."

"This is all my fault, isn't it?" Frank asked Ray, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty. Water started to rim Frabk's eyes as realisation hit him. This was really all his fault... Gerard could die, and it was ALL HIS FAULT! Tears spilled over Frank's eyes, and he let out a loud cry of agony.

"This is my fault! Everything's my fault!" he yelled, and everyone jumped in shock in their seats, seeing Frank like this. One of Frank's balled up fists connected harshly with one of the arms on his chair.

"Gerard's in there and it's my fault!" he screamed, no doubt that Gerard might have heard him in the nearby room. The group was shocked at Frank's sudden outburst, but it was understandable in this situation. To everyone's surprise, it was Lyn-z who got up to comfort Frank. She slung one of her arms around his shoulders, rubbing his back.

"No sweetie. It's not yours or anyone's fault, except that crazed man who tries to kill you."

"But if I-" Frank started to speak, but Lyn-z quickly silenced him.

"But nothing, sweetie. Gerard saved you, because he wanted to. He cares about you, you're his best friend. Would he want you to wallow in guilt?"

Frank sniffed, "No."

"That's right. Now, stop wasting time on this whole 'all my fault' crap, and hope for the best. Okay?" Lyn-z asked.

"I just... I just... If he doesn't make it, I don't know what I'd do," he muttered. Lyn-z's smile cracked and her eyes swelled up with tears.

"I don't know either," she answered sith a shaky voice, "but we still have to hope for the best, and wish that he'll come out of this just fine." Frank pulled Lyn-z into a tight embrace, and they stood silently together, crying for a while in each others arms.

About two hours later, one of Gerard's doctors came into the waiting room.

"We've managed to stabilise him," he confirmed. Ray jumped up from his seat.

"Yes!" he yelled, throwing a fist in the air. Frank stood up, colour rained from his cheeks.

"So he's okay, right?" he asked. The doctor held up his hands.

"We couldn't remove the bullet. As for the bullet, it didn't hit anyrhing vital, but it's too close to his heart."

"But, Gerard is okay, right?" Frank asked worriedly, "since the bullet didn't hit anything? Is he awake, can we see him?"

The doctor looked down at Frank. "Not exactly. Even though the bullet hasn't created any serious damage, we fear it will. There is a very good possibility of the bullet moving and puncturing his heart." Lyn-z then turned to speak.

"Wait. If that could kill him, then why don't you remove the goddamn bullet?

The doctor sighed in frustration, as if he had already explained this to a five year old. "The surgery is dangerous. The bullet is so close, there is a high chance that we could do damage to the heart. It is a high level risk procedure in the first place, but considering the location of the bullet, how close it is to his heart, makes it riskier. The chances of the operation being a success is about seven percent. Mr. Way said that he didn't want to have the operation," he explained.

"Wait, so he is awake?" Frank asked incredulously.

"Yes. He woke up about five minutes ago, asking for a Frank Y-ero?" the doctor said.

"Iero," Frank immediately corrected him. Out of everyone, Gerard wanted to see him? Not his wife, not his brother, or Ray. But him? Why?

"Did he say why?" he asked.

"No, he just asked for you," the doctor replied. Lyn-z, the person who had been consoling him for the past few hours, now wore a small frown.

"Hey, he probably just wants to yell at me for being such a dumbass and ruining his favoirite shirt with blood."

Lyn-z smiled. "Probably."