Spike Me and Save Me

Frank’s P.O.V.

I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to go home. I don’t wanna live without him.
Even though it was hard, we all said goodbye to each other and went each our way home. We all knew we would see each other again – soon – but it felt like we were saying goodbye for good. Like we said goodbye to whom we were at that moment. What we were. What we’d become – together. This is the end. We’ll never be this again.
When I stood in front of the front door to me and Jamia’s house, I hesitated on opening it. I stared at the key in my hand, as I realized I was about to walk into a totally new life. Nothing will ever be the same.
I stuck the key in the lock and unlocked my new life. Without Gerard.
When I closed the door behind me, I saw Jamia come out of the kitchen. She had paint on her hands, and even a little smudge of paint on her cheek. I wanted to smile at how cute she looked, but I couldn’t. Instead I took a step back and leaned against the door as I slid down into a heap of sobs on the floor. I quickly felt Jamia’s comforting arms around me, but it didn’t take away any of the pain or any of the sobs. Nothing can take that away now. There’s no hope.

Ray’s P.O.V.

When I came through the door, the first thing I saw was Amy in a hot, skimpy, red, little teddy. Even though she looked hotter than ever, I saw nothing but her bright, blue eyes shining. They seemed to light up my world a little – cheering me up enough to gather the strength to walk over to her and hug her. I held her close to me, smelling her hair and feeling her skin. I wanted to appreciate her. Every part of her. Forever.

Bob’s P.O.V.

When I got home, I heard Michelle call. I wasn’t able to hear what she said, but somehow it didn’t matter what she said – she was there. I left my bags in the hall, and went to sit on the couch in the living room. I heard Michelle come into the room, and I could even feel her excitement disappear when she saw me sitting silent and still on the couch. I just stared ahead as she sat down next to me and held onto my arm. I was too shocked to say anything. Michelle didn’t question me, and whispered comforting words in my ear until I was able to tell her.

Worm’s P.O.V.

As soon as I stepped through the door, my kids were all over me. I hugged them tight, and when I got up to hug my wife, my eyes were watery. I hugged her tight, before I told my kids to search through my bags for their presents. While they did, I took my wife’s hand and led her into the living room. I sat down in my chair and had her sit on my lap. I held her tightly in my arms.

“Gerard is dying,” I said in a low voice as I stared straight ahead. I felt a comforting kiss on my forehead and I leaned my head onto her chest, as I heard my children yelling and laughing with joy when they found the presents.

Mikey’s P.O.V.

When about two hours had past, Alicia slowly loosened her grip on me and I lifted my head. She slid her soft fingers across my cheeks to wipe away the tears. Her own eyes were red. I lifted my one hand up to cup her cheek, and she softly leaned her face into my hand. She smiled comforting, before she got to her feet and helped me up. She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned her cheek on my shoulder, as we walked out of the hallway and into the bedroom. She held onto me tightly as we both fell asleep – exhausted by sorrow.

Gerard’s P.O.V.

I sat Lyn down on my old bed and sat to face her. I stared into her beautiful eyes. I wasn’t just about to break her heart – I was about to tear her life apart. Even though I felt terrible, I’d never been calmer. I studied her face – pushing a strand of hair behind her ear to see it fully. Again, I had no speech prepared, but just let my heart control my words.
“I love you. I never meant to hurt you. I never told you, ‘cause I didn’t wanna hurt you.” The look in her eyes burned with understanding, but I knew that behind it hid curiosity and worry.
“I have cancer. I’m dying.” As the words left my lips, they didn’t seem to hit her right away. Her eyes were filled with confusion, until she finally read my look. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna leave you. I’m so sorry. I love you.

Frank’s P.O.V.

We all came to see Gerard as much as we could. We all practically lived in the Way-house for that last month. Even though we all knew he knew, we all kept telling him how much we loved him. How he’d saved our lives – completed them by his words, and even just by his presence.
It pained me to see him that last month. The first month after MSG had been pretty normal. He would walk about town with Lyn-Z in his hand or his mom on his arm. He enjoyed life – the life he had. He was content. Happy. Pleased with the life he had. This of course couldn’t only be seen by his smiles, laughs and joyful eyes, but also by the fact that he had fought for it. He didn’t take the easy way out. He’d tried to in the past, but – after all – we’re all only human. Yet now – when all hope is lost – he’s still fighting. He’s still fighting for his life. He’s fighting for the people he loves. His family. His friends. Me.
When the first month had passed, he started showing his first signs of weakness. He slept longer. He became out of breath faster. His muscles felt weaker. His hugs are weaker.
It was then he thought of the fans. It was then he asked for help to set up a camera and record a message to the fans. His fans.
I didn’t hear much of what he said in that video. One thing that did get stuck in my head though, was the words ‘I don’t how many people I’ll hurt, but I know how many I’ll shatter’. He’ll shatter me.
During that next week, he became weaker and weaker, and spent more and more of his time in his bed. There he stayed for the rest of his time.
He never gave up. He never showed any sign of mental weakness, when we visited him. He was strong. He was still happy. Once when we visited him, he said:
“I’ve accomplished so much. We have. We made it.” I remember him taking a few second to catch his breath, before he continued:
“I made something of my life. I changed a part of the world.” He looked at us all with the biggest smile he could muster, and then said:
“We changed the world.” It made me choke up, and on my way home in the car I cried my eyes out.
Every night before I fell asleep, I held onto Jamia and thought a thought that I always regretted. I’d rather be fighting with you than sleeping here next to her.
One day when I sat alone with him on his bed, he asked me how it felt being married.

“You should know that,” I said teasingly, but deep inside I wished we were both still single.

“Technically I’m not married. Not legally anyway,” he said with a smile on his face. When I asked him why they hadn’t gotten a license, he said:
“Because I don’t need it. We don’t. Papers don’t define love,” he said, before he started telling me how marrying Lyn-Z made him feel perfect – complete. I understood what he said, and for a second I felt stupid and shallow for having a legal wedding. I suddenly felt one of his hands on mine.
“I’m glad you got married Frank.” I looked at him. I realized that I looked sad, but it was a feeling I was never able to hide from him, no matter how hard I tried.
“I’m glad you have someone.” He looked down at our hands, as he stroked my palm with his thumb.
“I’m glad someone’s there to hold you, when I’m not here.” My heart would have been broken by those words, if it weren’t because it was already completely broken. I wanted to cry, but all the sadness in the world was already upon my shoulders, and I had gotten used to the weight by then – I couldn’t cry anymore.

“Don’t let go now,” I said softly – not able to stop myself.
“I need you.” Gerard squeezed my hand as tight as he could, before I laid myself down beside him and let him fall asleep in my arms.

When Gerard’s last week came, we all knew it would be his last. He was weaker – a lot weaker. He was pale. He was tired all the time. Yet even though he himself might have known it was his last days, he still didn’t give up. He kept his spirit high. He stayed happy. He smiled as often as he could. Even on his last day, he still managed to smile. He laid in his bed, looking paler and weaker than ever. Even though he was weak, tired and out of breath, he couldn’t live his last day without a speech.

“You guys truly are my heroes,” he said to us all – family, friends, band mates and his ‘wifey’. His loved ones.
“You’ve given me life, light, hope and strength when I needed it. You’ve been there, when I needed it. You’ve helped me. Saved me. You are the heroes of my life – watching you fall apart is killing me.” He smiled slightly, because ‘slightly’ was all he could muster.
“Literally.” None of us could help but smile through our tears, sobs and cries. Our hero is dying. Now. Here. Today.
“I know you all love me – to death,” he said and smiled again – briefly.
“I know, but I don’t want you to dwell on my death. I want you to let me go. Even now.” He closed his eyes for a little while, before he opened them again and looked at all of our faces.
“I’m hanging off a cliff. You’re all holding on to me, but no matter what I will fall,” he whispered softly. He swallowed once, before he finished his sentence:
“Let me go. Let me fall.”

We told the world that he died in peace. Truth was different.
We gave him a shot of morphine when the pain set in. When it wore off, we gave him another. After that, I think we all stopped counting.
Though no matter how much morphine we gave him, he still died in pain. Seeing his loved ones hurting while he was dying, perhaps only killed him faster. But how could we not be in pain? How could we put a brave smile on our faces, when the biggest hero of our lives was dying before our eyes and nothing could be done?
When his pain became too much for him to bear, he turned his head towards the only East-faced window of his basement-room. The light cascaded onto his face, and the dust danced in the sun in front of him. His eyes lit up with joy one last time, before they disappeared behind his eyelids – forever.
He died in the bed he knew best – the bed that he had spent most of his life’s nights in. The bed in the room, where he had spent most of his life. He died in the house that had once seemed like a prison, but had always been a home.
Only his family and friends were by his side when he died, but the world was in his heart.