BBB Fic - Stay Right Here
Stay Right Here
MCR; Frank/Gerard
by drown_thecity and idktbh
Gerard likes to watch Frank. He almost can’t believe how energetic, how full of life he is. Frank grins at him from across the stage as they wait, and Gerard feels himself automatically smiling back. Frank kind of has that effect on people.
“Gerard? Gerard. Sing something, please.” The voice snaps him out of his thoughts and reluctantly, Gerard tears his eyes away from Frank to look back at the guy standing in the sound box, Ray beside him. Nodding quickly and pretending like he had been paying attention all along, Gerard belts out the first few lines to Helena. It’s so second nature he barely has to think about it, and after a quick double check that his microphone is all set to go, he’s allowed to stand down. Bob’s on the drums then, and Gerard and Frank continue to share secret smiles and glances as they wait.
Just as it’s Frank turn for sound check, he’s stopped. “Frank, maybe just move to the other side of the stage for a minute. That light above you, it’s been fucking up lately. Almost fell and took a swing at Brian before,” the guy grins, and Frank laughs, looking over to where Brian is in fact standing.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up Iero,” Brian snaps, but he’s smiling as he says it. Frank looks back at Gerard, shrugging his shoulders.
“Don’t stress. I’m used to this side of the stage, is all,” he answers, and none of them can really argue with that. Frank’s always on Gerard’s right and Frank’s in to that sort of superstitious lucky charm bullshit. After the guy reassures Brian that it’s totally been fixed since that morning when Brian had his run-in, he seems to chill out a little, and Frank’s allowed to continue.
It’s all so casual, so routine, and maybe that’s what Gerard would remember later. The way it all seemed so normal, watching Frank shred without a care in the world. He gets a little carried away, thrashing with his guitar in a way that’s so Frank, it’s expected. Accidentally, he kicks out and his foot snags on a cord, and then, it’s almost like Gerard’s watching a movie.
There’s a horrible screeching sound, metal scraping on metal, and Gerard’s head snaps up just as it begins to fall. His mouth opens, a silent scream for Frank, move, fucking get out of the way, but Frank hasn’t noticed. And it’s almost ironic how the way he loses himself in a guitar - something that Gerard had once thought so beautiful - is now going to be his downfall. And speaking of falling...
It’s all over so quickly Gerard barely has time to comprehend it properly, but then he’s staring, eyes wide and jaw slack. That’s his Frank on the ground. And shit, it’s fallen, just like they said. It’s a big fucking stage light, and Frank, he’s fucking under it. They’re all on their feet at once, the band, Brian, the sound guy, but it’s Gerard who reaches him first, one hand on Frank’s still shoulder, the other pushing desperately at the thing trapping him. And what the fuck, seriously? It’s so fucking unlikely, a freak accident, and that sort of shit isn’t supposed to happen to them. But it seems to, what with Gerard’s ankle and Bob’s leg and all the other fucking injuries Frank’s sported over time... Only this, this is a whole lot worse.
Brian and Bob are there now, more concentrated on moving the light than Gerard is. He’s far too busy staring at the way Frank’s so still, his breathing shallow and wheezed, knocked right out of him. “Frank,” Gerard says, and something’s tearing at his throat, stopping him from saying all the things he needs to say - Get up, move, talk to me, oh my god - until all he can do is stare. Somewhere in the background he can hear Brian on the phone, and dumbly, he registers that someone’s hand is on his shoulder - Mikey, he thinks. Brian hangs up the phone, tells them that an ambulance is on the way.
“Just don’t move him. Whatever you do, don’t move him until the paramedics get here.”
Gerard thinks there should be a medic around here somewhere, and he goes to tell Brian this, but their manager is looking at him in a way that screams, ‘please don’t make this difficult’, and Gerard decides to keep his mouth shut. Brian isn’t stupid, he knows what he’s doing. But fuck, it’s so hard to trust when Frank’s lying there in front of him, not moving and barely breathing, and Gerard almost feels like he’s been crushed as well.
The ambulance comes, and someone pulls Gerard away from Frank as two of the paramedics take over. Gerard feels Mikey’s arms around him, and he’s thankful for the comfort, even if he doesn’t really feel it.
“He’s fine,” Mikey whispers, and Gerard doesn’t say anything, because something tells him that Frank’s really, really not okay.
-
Wild rushing, instruments beeping, words too loud, everyone's moving in a hazy blur in Gerard's head. Sitting on the cold plastic chair, he feels a hand resting on his shoulder; he doesn't have to look up to know that it's Mikey. Someone's saying something to him, someone familiar and it sounds like reassurance, so he ignores it, because he doesn't want that now, he wants Frank, he wants a stranger, a doctor, someone who knows to tell him what the fuck is going on. Why Frank is limp and unmoving, how they can fix it, just everything. Gerard's head hurts, his mind is exploding with the consequences of what can or what will or what did happen.
Gerard still sees Frank's body strapped to the gurney, Brian next to him on the ambulance, his hand holding Gerard's as Gerard's heart races. It all happened too fast, everything, from getting ready, to messing around and then…it just fell. Right on Frank, hit him in the back and just. The crashing, the, rush and the ambulance. Gerard could barely stand the sight of Frank's limp body sprawled on the floor, just like that. Then everything was happening too quick for him to register, and there were lights, noises, blue and red, then a whole crowd surrounds Frank and Gerard was fighting against them to just hold his fucking hand and stay with him while they carried Frank to the ambulance. The whole band rushed after him, dropping all their things and just-
I'm sorry, sir, only two people can get in the ambulance..
From the look on Brian's face, you could tell that he was about to punch someone's lights out, but Brian was strong enough to hold it in, and in between a silent agreement by all of them, Gerard and Brian got into the ambulance right away. Brian on the phone, canceling the show, whatever, burning down the fucking stage and those damned fucking lights.
Then there was Frank, and tubes were already attached, and people being careful, needles, machines, and beeping, and Frank. Right there, unmoving. And Gerard's body starts shaking again when he sees Frank's face.
Standing up on weak knees, Gerard moves for the sake of moving and starts pacing up and down the hallway, the reception, and over and over again in front of the room they took Frank into. Gerard's fingertips are numb and trembling, he's nervous and scared and starting to panic all over again, worse than when he did on stage. Leaning against the wall, he closes his eyes and tries to even his breathing, focus on just breathing. He tries to ignore the smell of the hospital, the squeaking of shoes against the floor, the small chatter between nurses and just breathe.
"Gerard, just-" and Gerard jolts up standing straight, eyes big and expecting. Mikey's suddenly in front of him.
"Is the doctor out yet? Did they say anything?" Gerard doesn't even wait for Mikey's response and goes to the main desk, where Brian and Ray have been rooted since they came.
"Have they said anything, Brian? How long will they take? For fuck’s sake, I need to see him!" and there's that violent shaking of Gerard's hand again, and all he can see in his mind is Frank's face, and it's limp and quiet and unmoving.
Ray puts his arms around Gerard, and it helps, just for a few seconds, but it still helps.
"He'll be okay, Gee. They'll fix him. It's going to be fine." Gerard is trying to believe it, trying his hardest to let the thought sink in, but it won't. And then he tries to breathe in again, tries to calm himself down, but the smell of the hospital is making him sick and he feels dizzy.
Letting go of Ray, Gerard goes back to pacing and walking around aimlessly, does it for the sake of having something to do, passing time. Then he stands and looks at everyone around him. Brian is still heatedly discussing with the receptionist about when the fuck would they get out, it's been more than four hours, damn it. And Ray's still right next to him, close to the edge himself, trying to be calm and reassuring. Then there's Bob standing right with one of the male nurses that brought Frank in, seeming like he's about to punch him for not doing anything, for not having any progress to tell them about, and damn it it's been four fucking hours.
And Worm is right there, with at least ten cups of empty coffee, and he's refilling and standing there, worried too, but trying to do something distracting, and just bringing more coffee around, and it helps them stay awake and be there, because they need to. Then there's Mikey, on the phone, probably with Alicia or someone important, and Gerard knows they're talking about him, because Mikey keeps stealing glances towards Gerard, his face completely drained with worry and gives Gerard a small smile of reassurance, but it just helps Gerard think about Frank, and he's shaking again.
Just about the second Gerard was taking a step to head to the plastic chairs, the door of the operation room flings open and everyone is right in the doctor's face in mere seconds. And Gerard doesn't even wait two breaths before he's interrogating the doctor.
"Is he okay? What happened? Why did you take so long? Can I we see him? Is-"
"Sir, sir, please. I'll explain what needs to be explained. Just give me a second to-"
"Give you a fucking second? Are you fucking serious? You've been inside that fucking room for the past four hours and you want another second? Wha-"
"Bob. Bob, hold it." And Ray's arms are firm and tight on Bob's shoulders, because Bob was an inch away from the doctor's face, and his fist already set to punch. The doctor narrows his eyes at Bob and turns to Brian.
"Okay, I'm Doctor Kane, are any of you related to Mr. Iero?" He looks around the group that's surrounding him and they all start talking at once, some even shouting, telling him that fuck yes they're all related to him, they're in one band, they're all family and -
"Guys, guys. Chill, okay?" Brian looks around them and they all fall quiet and look at the doctor expectantly. Gerard is the worst of them all, clutching to Mikey's arm, about to collapse on the floor if the doctor doesn't say anything right now.
"Doctor, you can tell us what's going on, all of us, it's fine."
And the doctor looks around them all again before sighing and giving in, because really, if he doesn't, he will get his face punched in, it's on everyone's face.
"Well. Mr. Iero suffered a severe spinal injury. We did the best we could to try and fix as much of the damage as possible." The doctor looks down and starts fiddling with some of the papers he had in hand, taking a second or two too long, and fuck was Gerard about to just pass out or wrap his hand around that man's throat.
"Okay, what the fuck happened? Is he okay now?" Brian speaks for the whole group, they all had the same questions in mind, and they just needed to be pushed out.
"Well, Mr. Iero damaged the thoracic disks in his back. We tried the best we could to surgically fix it, but the bones were crushed in together. We put him on steroids to reduce the inflammation from the shock of the injury. All he needs right now is a long rest. He won’t be awake for at least another twenty four hours." And they’re all staring at him, all confused, and for fuck’s sake they just need it in straight forward simple words. A definite yes or no, okay or not.
"In fucking English, damn it," Bob sneers at the doctor. Dr. Kane looks at them all again before speaking.
"Mr. Iero has lost all sense of movement from below the hips. The discs in his spine that affect the movement and feeling of his legs and hips have been completely crushed. There’s a good chance Mr Iero will be a paraplegic. We tried all we can. I'm sorry."
They all fall silent. This isn't happening, that. No, no way in hell. It has to be something else, Frank can’t just. No. Gerard's shaking his head frantically, his fingers bruising Mikey's arm and he's shaking. No, this isn't happening. Gerard's misinterpreting all of this, he heard it wrong, he must have. Why isn't anyone moving and why is everything around him is spinning? Why-
"D-Does that mean he's. He's paralyzed?" And Brian's the strongest, the only one able to actually say the word, and Gerard clutches the wall and holds himself, and he feels an arm wrapped around him, but he's not holding back, he's just standing stiff in shock and about to collapse.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. We're not sure if it's-"
"NO! It can’t, Frank isn't. No. Fuck no. Frank's not paralyzed. He's-He's okay, you-" and Gerard is moving towards the doctor, fist ready to act but he's held back by Ray and Mikey. Just away from the door of the surgery room, just away.
Gerard allows himself to be taken away, and just doesn't want to see that doctor’s face right now. Going back to the waiting area, Ray and Mikey's grip on him loosen and Mikey is about to say something before Gerard lets go and heads for one of the walls.
"No. just fucking no." He doesn't even know what his mind is setting him up to do before Gerard's hitting. Punching and thumping against the white walls. Once. Twice. He keeps punching the goddamned walls until his knuckles are passed the pain and are just throbbing numb.
No. this isn't happening. Why the fuck did this happen, of all people it had to happen to Frank. Fucking fuck. No-
"Gerard! Gerard for fuck’s sake just stop already." And there's Mikey again, hand on Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard's in too much anger, boiling right inside him, in his chest, stomach, his blood is hot and explosive and just no and he keeps punching, ignores Mikey.
"Would you just stop? Frank doesn't need this right now, Gerard." And hearing Frank's name is all that Gerard needs to go stiff and numb all over, and he stops and stares at the wall. "He needs you to be strong for him, be there for him. He doesn't want these kind of fits, okay? Just. Just sit down, for now. We'll figure things out."
He doesn't know if he's moving with or against his will, but he's moving again and the surface of the plastic chair greets his shaking figure. Somehow everyone's back around him, Brian still with the doctor. It's all too quiet and no one's saying anything.
Gerard's sitting but he feels everything around him twisting and turning, spinning and collapsing. Resting his head in his hands, Gerard closes his eyes and he sees Frank, and his whole body shudders. Then there are arms all around him, and he feels all three pairs of them, and they just hold them there. They all hold each other there, no one saying a single word.
Then Gerard feels the world falling down on him and all he sees is dark and crashing, all he feels is blood burning and boiling, body trembling.
This can’t be happening.
-
Gerard tells them firmly that he’ll spend the night at the hospital. None of them want to leave him there alone, but Gerard isn’t budging, and there’s only room for one person in the tiny spare bed in Frank’s room. Reluctantly, the rest of the band and Brian find a hotel nearby, promising that they’ll be there first thing in the morning. Gerard is barely listening to them. He’s finally allowed in Frank’s room, and now all he can do is stare. Stare at Frank as he lies motionless, eyes closed and breathing even, and that’s the tiniest of comforts, but it’s still nowhere near enough.
When Gerard can’t stand to look at Frank anymore, he crawls into the bed and turns his face to the wall, willing sleep to come. He lies awake all night, imagining how Frank will react when he wakes up.
Gerard is woken by soft chattering, and when he opens his eyes and looks up, he can see Brian and Mikey in the doorway.
“Morning, Gee,” Mikey says when he sees that Gerard is awake, crossing the room to inspect Gerard, as if he’s the one who’s in hospital. Cautiously, Gerard turns his head to see Frank. He’s still asleep, but Gerard guesses that soon enough, the drugs will wear off and Frank will wake up, demanding to know what the fuck happened to his body.
“I don’t want the doctors to tell him,” Gerard says suddenly, surprising himself with how fierce his words are. Mikey nods, as if he almost guessed Gerard would want that. “He doesn’t need to hear it from them. It should be us. We. We know him, we love him and he’ll. He’ll trust us,” Gerard finishes quietly, as if Mikey needed an explanation. He didn’t, but he listens patiently anyway, patting Gerard’s shoulder affectionately.
Gerard looks at Brian. “You think so too, right?”
And Brian nods, and the decision is made. Gerard follows them out into the waiting room where Bob and Ray are sitting. They stand up as soon as the others enter, and Bob shoots Gerard a look that he thinks is meant to be reassuring, but just makes his stomach churn. He’s not the one who needs comforting - Frank is. Frank, who’s still lying in a fucking hospital bed, who’s about to wake up and find out that he no longer has the use of his legs. Gerard knows he doesn’t want to be the one to tell him, doesn’t want to see the heartbreak, frustration and anger on Frank’s face, but at the same time, he knows that it’ll be him.
They sit in the waiting room silently, none of them wanting to say anything that would upset anyone else, and really, there’s nothing else to talk about. Brian has made a few calls, told any interviews or shows they had lined up for the next few days that they’ll have to be cancelled, and in the back of his mind, Gerard feels a little guilty about all the kids they’ve undoubtedly disappointed, all the people who will be wondering why their concert was cancelled. And then he thinks of Frank in that bed, and it seems a small price to pay. Because Frank, he’s just paid more than should ever have been asked of him.
“Who’s going to tell him?” Ray asks finally, and Gerard puts his head down.
“Do you want to, Gerard?” Brian asks him, soft and careful not to upset him. Gerard didn’t think he was making it that obvious how much he’s dreading going in to see Frank, but Brian has always been good at reading him. If he’s admitting it, he’s a little nervous about seeing Frank awake. Watching Frank be so fucking still is heartbreaking, but Gerard has a horrible feeling that seeing him awake and in pain is going to be a thousand times worse.
“I guess I’ll tell him, sure,” Gerard says slowly, refusing to look at them. He knows that their eyes are on him, carefully watching to ensure that he doesn’t lose it, doesn’t break down again, but he’s past that, he thinks. Now, there’s just this dull ache, this resignation that this is how it’s going to be, and he has to be strong for Frank. But it’s hard, so hard, not to run out of here and never come back. Only, that wouldn’t be fair to Frank, and who’s Gerard to complain, really? He has perfect use of his legs, of his body. He’s not the one who got crushed by a fucking stage light, and so really, he has no right to even think of leaving Frank here alone.
The doctor appears an hour later, and even though he hides it, putting forward the professional persona, Gerard can tell that he’s almost nervous. Scared of telling them that Frank is awake, that he wants to see them. Gerard bites back a sneer, knowing that the doctor can’t be nearly as fucking terrified as the rest of them. Brian looks at Gerard, and he nods, following the doctor into the room before the others. Better to get it over and done with straight off. Brian had asked the doctors to keep the information from Frank until Gerard was ready to explain it to him in a way that Frank would understand. He knew that Frank wouldn’t appreciate a whole bunch of medical terms and dodging around the facts.
When Gerard walks into the room, Frank is lying there, head propped up by a couple of pillows and staring at the opposite wall. His eyes are dull, blank, and Gerard is suddenly really fucking terrified of talking to him. And it shouldn’t be that way, it shouldn’t. He’s shared everything with Frank. Frank is the last person he sees at night, the person he wakes up to in the morning. Frank is the one Gerard kisses, holds. Gerard’s used to seeing a sparkle in Frank’s eyes, a childish mischief that’s a delight to witness. He’s not used to this Frank, the one who’s staring blankly ahead as though he can’t even see.
Gerard edges forward, lowering himself into the chair beside Frank’s bed, and finally, Frank turns his head.
“Hey Frank,” Gerard tries, and he can feel his heart racing, his pulse thumping.
“I can’t feel my legs,” Frank whispers, and his voice wavers as he speaks. Gerard feels his heart break, and he reaches forward for Frank’s hand, gripping it tightly and trying to lend Frank whatever strength he has.
“There was an accident, on stage. The light, it fell and. Frank, it fell on your back and you.” And Gerard has to stop there, because where’s he supposed to go from here?
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Frank asks, and Gerard realises that so far, he’s doing a really shitty job of hiding his own fear and apprehensions from Frank.
“It’s. I. Yeah, it uh. It kind of is,” Gerard admits, and he squeezes Frank’s hand as he says it, hopes to feel Frank squeeze back. There’s nothing, just Frank staring at him, drilling holes through his mind as if looking for the answers himself, and Gerard swallows stiffly. “It uh, it damaged your spine, Frank. You’re.” He can’t bring himself to say it. You’re a paraplegic. You won’t walk again. It’s too harsh, too hard, and Frank doesn’t deserve this, any of this.
“Gerard, please. Just tell it to me straight,” Frank pleads, and Gerard stares at him a moment before he gives in.
“The doctors say you’re. You’re a paraplegic, Frank. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Gerard forces out, and he can feel his eyes stinging, but he’s not going to cry. He won’t do that to Frank. Now is Frank’s time, and if Frank wants to cry, fine, but Gerard’s job is to be strong for him, and that’s what he’s going to do. It’s just so unfair. Frank shouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed. Frank’s supposed to be bouncing, jumping, thrashing on his guitar and full of energy.
“I. A what? It won’t - the feeling - it won’t come back?” And Frank’s practically pleading with him now, as if Gerard’s the one who can restore the feeling in his legs, as if Gerard holds all the answers. Gerard wishes he did.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, because he can’t bring himself to shut Frank down, to tell him that no, it’s permanent. Gerard doesn’t have any experience with this sort of thing. He’s not used to having to deliver such heartbreaking news, not used to having to crush a person’s dreams just because of some shitty freak accident.
“But. But that means... That means I can’t play.”
The words hit Gerard hard, and it’s the first time he even thinks of that. But he’s right, and that’s more devastating than anything they’d thought of before. Frank’s going to have to be in a fucking wheelchair. Frank can’t get on that stage again, can’t thrash around and play his little heart out, can’t tour with them and keep living the life they’d been living. Frank’s going to need special care, he’s going to have to be looked after, and there’s no way in hell they can do that on a tour bus, constantly on the move.
Gerard can’t even speak, can’t reassure Frank, can’t make it all better. He watches him, watches the way Frank’s mind ticks over everything, the way he slowly begins to realise that this is the end of his career, that he’s done with, that his dream is over, and Gerard can barely stand to watch. He can see every piece of heartbreak, every fall and twitch in Frank’s expression, the way he avoids Gerard’s eyes and goes back to staring at the wall, ignoring everything around him. Gerard feels tears welling up in his eyes again, and he brushes them away angrily, because if Frank’s not even crying, he shouldn’t be either.
“Are the others here?” Frank says finally, and Gerard nods wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak.
“I’ll. I’ll go get them,” he says, and Frank nods stiffly.
As Gerard walks out of the room and back to the waiting room, legs feeling like jelly, he can’t help but feel a little bit hurt at how unresponsive Frank was with him. He already misses his Frank, misses the way Frank smiles, the glint in his eyes. He tries to tell himself that it’s okay, that Frank will be back with them as soon as he’s out of hospital and on the road to recovery, but he can’t make himself believe it. Frank’s eyes. They had been so dead.
The band stands up as soon as Gerard enters the room, and he looks towards the ground. “He wants to see you,” he says, and he feels them bustling past him. Mikey pauses, puts a hand on his shoulder and Gerard looks up.
“You coming?” Mikey asks, and Gerard shakes his head.
He needs a few minutes alone, to gather himself before he has to go back in there and face Frank. He knows that if he goes back in there now, he’s going to lose it, and he doesn’t want to upset Frank any more than he already is. Mikey nods and leaves him there, following the others to go and see if they can repair some of the damage.
Gerard, he sinks down into a chair and hopes that the next time he goes in there, Frank is smiling. He knows it won’t happen.
-
They're all sitting scattered in one room, each one of them trying to process and comprehend the shock that was just dropped on them. Gerard’s sitting next to the open window, sunglasses on, gripping his cigarette too tight and practically crushing the filter. Mikey can tell the anger is still there. Ray's on the floor, leaning against the wall and on the phone with someone, talking in whispers. Bob is sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped together and eye cast downwards, a concerned frown plastered to his face. Mikey can't help but turn to his brother again.
Mikey and Brian had to physically drag Gerard out of the hospital to come to the hotel. Gerard didn't want to leave; he sat there rooted and stubborn, in Frank's room just waiting, just watching Frank. He wouldn't listen to them when they told him he needed to sleep, to call it a day and just go and rest. No, Gerard wasn't buying any of that shit. Not until he was manhandled out of the hospital, curses under his breath and barely keeping himself together in one piece.
Since they got to the hotel, Gerard has smoked one cigarette after the other, rubbing at his eyes from under his sunglasses from time to time. Mikey doesn't want to think about whether Gerard’s crying or not. Seeing him as he broke the news to Frank was already hard enough. Mikey had to keep it together, for Frank's sake and for Gerard's.
Just as Mikey is about to stand up and go to Gerard, just sit with him and just be there, the door opens and Brian walks in.
"Hey, guys."
A round of mumbled responses echoes from everyone and Mikey notices how Gerard doesn't tear his gaze from the window.
They all fall silent and Mikey can see that Brian’s almost struggling, wanting to say something. Mikey keeps looking between Brian and everyone else. They all seem to end up looking at Gerard then back to Brian, and it’s quiet.
Brian lets out a sigh, knowing that someone just has to say it, that it's there on everyone's mind, but no one's doing or saying anything.
"What's up?" Mikey really intends to ask, what happens now? What do we do? What's the next step? How bad is this going to hurt us all? How big are the consequences? But Mikey can't get himself to say it, he just can't.
Running a hand through his hair, Brian looks at all of them and they all look back, even Gerard now, from behind his sunglasses as he stubs out his cigarette.
"We need a replacement for Frank, obviously. I’ve got Cortez and he's ready to go any time. Cancelling the show the other night was, well, kind of seriously disappointing to the fans, especially seeing as we decided to cancel a couple more until further notice. But we need to get this together, you guys, you know it." Brian looks like he really is trying to make this as easy as it possibly can be, and Mikey can see his struggle.
Mikey turns around to see everyone else's reactions. Bob’s nodding in silent agreement and Ray’s looking at Gerard. So does Mikey now, and it kills seeing Gerard like that. Completely drained and so close to simply shattering. Then Gerard's lips are moving, tight with the anger still there.
"Fuck. It's. It's not like it’s the first time Cortez has fucking filled in for Frank. Let's just get this shit over and done with."
Mikey swallows hard. The anger is still burning in Gerard and Mikey feels like walking up to him and just holding him there to just calm him down. He can see Gerard's hand starting to shake from where he's sitting. Gerard holds his hands together and looks down, jaw clenched tight, an angry frown on his face.
"Yeah, exactly. So we'll just finish off the tour with Cortez. Everything's already sorted. You guys are cool with that right? I just have to let the-"
"We are, Brian. It's okay." Gerard settles it firmly and Mikey's looking at him, but Gerard hasn't moved from his position, and it's starting to scare Mikey.
"Alright. Just try and get some rest and sleep, you guys. I haven't seen one of you in a bed in two days, please." And that's the end of whatever meeting-update thing that just happened, and Mikey expects Brian to leave or go handle the rest of the shit that needs to be managed.
But Brian's half angel, half God and Mikey sees him walking towards Gerard and sitting down next to him. They talk quietly and Brian puts his hand on Gerard's shoulder and then they both look at each other before Brian wraps his arms around Gerard and just hugs him.
Mikey feels helpless and useless, like he should be the one there, doing that for Gerard. But he can't and he doesn't even know why. And Mikey can't stand looking at his brother, weak and vulnerable like that; it's killing him. Mikey can't even start to think about Frank and Gerard's relationship, or the whole picture, the band, the touring, the new album. It's all too much, it's all too raw and it scares Mikey when he thinks about what this could do Gerard and Frank. It could end them and-
A hand is on Mikey's shoulder and he's torn from his thoughts. He looks up from where he's sitting and sees Brian's figure standing in front of him.
"Hey, Mikey. I just spoke to Gerard for a bit, and we'll be going to the hospital later to tell Frank what's happening, keep him updated. "
"Um. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."
Brian sits down next to Mikey on the opposite chair and leans forward.
"I know that all of this is too sudden and quick, Mikey. But you seriously need to look after Gerard, don't let him get too caught up in himself."
And out of all people, Brian is telling Mikey this. But Mikey knows Gerard, knows his brother maybe a little too much. Mikey knows how Gerard works, how he thinks. He knows that deep inside him, Gerard's playing the guilt and blame game and is probably convincing himself that it’s somehow his fault. Gerard won’t stop thinking about all sorts of shit, not when he’s in the middle of all of this. But Mikey, on the other hand, can't just give up on his brother and skip the whole situation like it means nothing. It’s worse, the whole situation means everything.
"I will, don't worry about it, Brian. Gerard's my brother, I know how he's like. He just. He just needs some time right now." And Brian nods because he does understand.
"I know. It all just needs time. And we'll just take this a step as it comes, just look after him."
"I will, Brian, you know I will."
Because Mikey knows that he will take care of Gerard, even if he knows he can't just go up to his brother and make him spill his heart out. Everything's too raw and it's too soon, and Mikey knows that Gerard will come and talk to him, at some point, sooner or later. And Mikey will be there, right next to him, listening. Mikey knows his part before Gerard comes to talk, Mikey will just be there, as a distraction, a reassurance, to hug Gerard when he needs it, at any time, the whole time. Tell him it'll be okay just when he needs to hear it because he knows that it'll keep Gerard going for a while, and just, Mikey's going to be there for Gerard. Period. He always did and he always will; it’s just something that happens, something natural and as familiar as skin on bone.
Then Brian is standing up and patting Mikey on the back before he's out the door. Mikey looks back at Gerard. He's curled in on himself and leaning against the now closed window. Standing up and walking to his brother, Mikey doesn't wait for Gerard to acknowledge his presence before wrapping his arms around him. Mikey can sense that Gerard was about to tell him to just fuck off, because he knows that Gerard doesn't want this bullshit sympathy, not when the anger is still there and Frank's too far away. But Gerard doesn't, because he's a notch more vulnerable than he makes himself seem, so he leans in to the embrace and holds Mikey back.
"I'm scared, Mikey. So fucking terrified," Gerard whispers in Mikey's ear, and Mikey's close to lying to him and telling Gerard that there is no reason to be scared, but Mikey knows better.
"I know, Gee. We all are, we just have to be strong for him"
"I'm not sure if I can, Mikey."
-
Forcing his eyelids open, Frank squints as he tries to adjust to the light. It takes him a couple of minutes to register the fact that he's still in the hospital, that this is all actually happening. It's not a nightmare that he can wake up from, it's real. He closes his eyes tightly again. He doesn't want this, none of this is supposed to happen. Everything hurts everywhere, his back, his neck. It’s somehow worse that there’s no pain in his legs, that he can’t feel them at all. Frank's heart clenches at the thought whenever it comes back to him. Gerard's words, in his mind over and over again.
You're a paraplegic, Frank.
Paraplegic.
Never walking again. Never moving. Never on stage again.
Never.
And the words keep turning and spinning inside his head, and they won’t go away. They swirl and mix in with the thoughts and emotions, and it's all too heavy and he wishes that he never woke up. He wishes he was sleeping again, and he curses the sedatives for wearing off.
Looking around, there are tubes, monitors, machines and everything around him. Nothing looks hopeful and no life looks back at him, just machines and himself. Then he turns to the window and stares outside with a broken look on his face.
I can't do this.
And Frank has to look away from the blank window pane and the still life that looks back at him. He can't stand it, he can't stand the fucking thought that he won’t be able to just simply move, get up and go.
He can't do this.
Resting his head back on the pillow and taking in a deep breath, Frank already feels exhausted and drained from just those simple movements. Trying to push himself with his elbows, Frank looks down on himself, looks at his legs, and a part of his soul just closes in on itself and breaks at the sight. His legs, limp and unmoving, and he tries, tells his brain and his body to correlate and coordinate, but nothing, nothing responds.
Frank has to hold himself and not breakdown right then and there. He holds it and it burns his chest, burns in his back and sets fire through him. But nothing's moving, and he's just there, just a body, a corpse. He feels like pulling out all the wires and throwing himself to wherever he lands, just not on this bed, not in this hospital, not in those legs. Then he starts trembling and he's clutching to the bed covers so hard his knuckles are white and painful, and he just wants to rip everything to shreds, everything.
Just as Frank is about to try and sit up on his own again, trying his best to ignore the shooting pain that cripples his body, he sees the door being creaked open. Two familiar figures are walking in and Frank knows who they are, and closes his eyes shut. Gerard and Brian come towards Frank's bed and Frank can feel their presence, but they don't realise that Frank's awake until he forces his eyes open again. And Frank just looks past Gerard and Brian, to the wall behind them. He can’t stand to look at anyone, no one at all. Especially not Gerard. Not when he's right there, in front of him, holding his hand now, warm and familiar, but Frank still feels numb.
"Hey, Frank," Gerard whispers softly, and tries to lean in for a kiss, but Frank turns his head to the other side and locks his eyes on the window frame.
He can't stand this. Everything and everyone's acting like all of this is normal, like nothing fucking happened. None of them get it, not even Gerard fucking understands. Frank feels Gerard's hand tense when he refuses to look at him, but Frank just can't, it all hurts too much, at every seam.
"Frank. Frank, please look at me."
And Frank can feel the warmth of Gerard's palm against his face and he can’t help but close his eyes and lean into the touch. It's enough comfort for just this split second, enough warmth to make him forget just for a fraction of a breath, just enough to give him the energy to open his eyes and look into Gerard's.
"Hey," Frank manages to croak out, and his voice is scratchy and it almost hurts to use his vocal cords, but it's better than nothing. At least that part of him is actually functioning.
Frank sees Brian grabbing a chair for both himself and Gerard and they both sit down, Gerard not letting go of Frank's hand while he's sitting. Brian gives Frank a small smile and looks at him.
"How're you feeling today, Iero?"
And Frank shrugs because really, what can he fucking say? ‘Oh, I still can’t feel my legs and probably never will. I'm still stuck in this bed and feel like a corpse, like a useless piece of wood, just being there.’ Has he mentioned that he feels like shit? Like he wants to rip out all the wires and throw himself out of the building?
"I'm fine, just a bit tired." Because really, he just can’t register the thought and can’t form it into words. Because maybe saying that he's fine will make him fine, saying that he'll be good to go soon might actually make himself believe so. Maybe lying and denying might work, Frank doesn't know, and at this point, Frank just wants to go back into nothingness, just deep dark sleep, where nothing happens.
"Yeah, you need to rest up and get better now. We just wanted to come and tell you about something." Brian looks pointedly at Gerard, and Frank knows it’s Gerard's turn to continue. And it feels like something bad, because he can already feel his stomach twisting, and Frank looks at Gerard and waits for it.
Gerard's grip on his hand tightens. "We wanted to ask you. The tour. We." Gerard has to take in a deep breath and lift up his head to look at Frank before he continues. "We have to continue with the tour, we already cancelled a couple of shows and. Brian got Cortez to fill in, and I know that-"
"I can’t believe you're asking my fucking permission for this. Fuck yeah you have to finish the tour, we're not just. Not because of me, no, I don't want you guys to. Cortez is great. It's not the first time." And probably won’t be the last, Frank thinks to himself. Frank feels Gerard's lips kissing his hand softly and Frank has to look away, because he still can’t, this is all too much, but he won’t allow it to show, he just forces himself to breathe.
"It's just for now, nothing permanent, just to finish off the tour with. Then, then we'll get this sorted."
Of course it's fucking permanent, all of it. Frank's unmoving legs are permanent, Frank not being to walk, move or play on stage ever again is fucking permanent. All of this is plain and perfectly permanent.
"Yeah, I guess. That's what you guys need to do. Just don't call off anymore shows, just. Yeah."
Gerard stands up and holds Frank's hand against Gerard's chest and looks at him directly, Gerard's eyes burning against Frank's dull ones. Frank can see Gerard trying to hold on, not break loose. He sees the broken pieces of him, just right at the rims of his pupils, edges of olive, all masked with faux strength.
"I'm here, Frank, It'll be okay. I promise," Gerard whispers close again, and he's clutching Frank's hand right over his heart, against his warm chest.
Frank's stuck in between pulling his hand away and telling Gerard to just leave the fucking room and to stop lying, and wanting to pull Gerard close and hold him with him right there on the bed. Just to feel some familiarity, some normalcy, just Gerard. But he can’t, it's all too much, everything and everyone's too much, and there's still the anger and there are still freshly opened wounds and shocks are still unabsorbed and it all hurts too much. It all feels like a heavy weight collapsing on his chest and holding him there, making him struggle for breath. Every limb of his body feels like they're in a world of their own. He can’t feel his legs and nothing is willing to coordinate with each other. His arms and body all feel heavy and there are too many wires and too many monitors.
Then Gerard's leaning forward, and Frank has to shut his eyes, because he doesn't want this, not now. It's too much. Warm lips settle on his forehead and Gerard plants a kiss there and rests his forehead against Frank's.
"I love you," Gerard whispers softly and Frank can feel his warm breath tingling against his face, and he can’t. He can’t say it back, or say anything for that matter. All of Frank's energy is focused on just breathing.
"Gerard." And that's all that Frank manages to say, that's all his heart and his energy allows him too.
"It's alright, Frank. Just rest up now, okay?" Gerard stands up straight and waits for Frank to respond, and Frank gives the merest of nods and hopes that's enough to just keep Gerard quiet and away, because having him too close is just too much.
"Yeah." Then Frank closes his heavy eyelids and wishes for sleep to overcome him. He tries not to think about Gerard and Brian leaving. He tries not to think about his unmoving legs.
And most of all he tries not to think about the screaming and the crowd cheering for them, but they're all there, still cheering, and Frank's here.
Still motionless.
Part Two
MCR; Frank/Gerard
by drown_thecity and idktbh
Gerard likes to watch Frank. He almost can’t believe how energetic, how full of life he is. Frank grins at him from across the stage as they wait, and Gerard feels himself automatically smiling back. Frank kind of has that effect on people.
“Gerard? Gerard. Sing something, please.” The voice snaps him out of his thoughts and reluctantly, Gerard tears his eyes away from Frank to look back at the guy standing in the sound box, Ray beside him. Nodding quickly and pretending like he had been paying attention all along, Gerard belts out the first few lines to Helena. It’s so second nature he barely has to think about it, and after a quick double check that his microphone is all set to go, he’s allowed to stand down. Bob’s on the drums then, and Gerard and Frank continue to share secret smiles and glances as they wait.
Just as it’s Frank turn for sound check, he’s stopped. “Frank, maybe just move to the other side of the stage for a minute. That light above you, it’s been fucking up lately. Almost fell and took a swing at Brian before,” the guy grins, and Frank laughs, looking over to where Brian is in fact standing.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up Iero,” Brian snaps, but he’s smiling as he says it. Frank looks back at Gerard, shrugging his shoulders.
“Don’t stress. I’m used to this side of the stage, is all,” he answers, and none of them can really argue with that. Frank’s always on Gerard’s right and Frank’s in to that sort of superstitious lucky charm bullshit. After the guy reassures Brian that it’s totally been fixed since that morning when Brian had his run-in, he seems to chill out a little, and Frank’s allowed to continue.
It’s all so casual, so routine, and maybe that’s what Gerard would remember later. The way it all seemed so normal, watching Frank shred without a care in the world. He gets a little carried away, thrashing with his guitar in a way that’s so Frank, it’s expected. Accidentally, he kicks out and his foot snags on a cord, and then, it’s almost like Gerard’s watching a movie.
There’s a horrible screeching sound, metal scraping on metal, and Gerard’s head snaps up just as it begins to fall. His mouth opens, a silent scream for Frank, move, fucking get out of the way, but Frank hasn’t noticed. And it’s almost ironic how the way he loses himself in a guitar - something that Gerard had once thought so beautiful - is now going to be his downfall. And speaking of falling...
It’s all over so quickly Gerard barely has time to comprehend it properly, but then he’s staring, eyes wide and jaw slack. That’s his Frank on the ground. And shit, it’s fallen, just like they said. It’s a big fucking stage light, and Frank, he’s fucking under it. They’re all on their feet at once, the band, Brian, the sound guy, but it’s Gerard who reaches him first, one hand on Frank’s still shoulder, the other pushing desperately at the thing trapping him. And what the fuck, seriously? It’s so fucking unlikely, a freak accident, and that sort of shit isn’t supposed to happen to them. But it seems to, what with Gerard’s ankle and Bob’s leg and all the other fucking injuries Frank’s sported over time... Only this, this is a whole lot worse.
Brian and Bob are there now, more concentrated on moving the light than Gerard is. He’s far too busy staring at the way Frank’s so still, his breathing shallow and wheezed, knocked right out of him. “Frank,” Gerard says, and something’s tearing at his throat, stopping him from saying all the things he needs to say - Get up, move, talk to me, oh my god - until all he can do is stare. Somewhere in the background he can hear Brian on the phone, and dumbly, he registers that someone’s hand is on his shoulder - Mikey, he thinks. Brian hangs up the phone, tells them that an ambulance is on the way.
“Just don’t move him. Whatever you do, don’t move him until the paramedics get here.”
Gerard thinks there should be a medic around here somewhere, and he goes to tell Brian this, but their manager is looking at him in a way that screams, ‘please don’t make this difficult’, and Gerard decides to keep his mouth shut. Brian isn’t stupid, he knows what he’s doing. But fuck, it’s so hard to trust when Frank’s lying there in front of him, not moving and barely breathing, and Gerard almost feels like he’s been crushed as well.
The ambulance comes, and someone pulls Gerard away from Frank as two of the paramedics take over. Gerard feels Mikey’s arms around him, and he’s thankful for the comfort, even if he doesn’t really feel it.
“He’s fine,” Mikey whispers, and Gerard doesn’t say anything, because something tells him that Frank’s really, really not okay.
-
Wild rushing, instruments beeping, words too loud, everyone's moving in a hazy blur in Gerard's head. Sitting on the cold plastic chair, he feels a hand resting on his shoulder; he doesn't have to look up to know that it's Mikey. Someone's saying something to him, someone familiar and it sounds like reassurance, so he ignores it, because he doesn't want that now, he wants Frank, he wants a stranger, a doctor, someone who knows to tell him what the fuck is going on. Why Frank is limp and unmoving, how they can fix it, just everything. Gerard's head hurts, his mind is exploding with the consequences of what can or what will or what did happen.
Gerard still sees Frank's body strapped to the gurney, Brian next to him on the ambulance, his hand holding Gerard's as Gerard's heart races. It all happened too fast, everything, from getting ready, to messing around and then…it just fell. Right on Frank, hit him in the back and just. The crashing, the, rush and the ambulance. Gerard could barely stand the sight of Frank's limp body sprawled on the floor, just like that. Then everything was happening too quick for him to register, and there were lights, noises, blue and red, then a whole crowd surrounds Frank and Gerard was fighting against them to just hold his fucking hand and stay with him while they carried Frank to the ambulance. The whole band rushed after him, dropping all their things and just-
I'm sorry, sir, only two people can get in the ambulance..
From the look on Brian's face, you could tell that he was about to punch someone's lights out, but Brian was strong enough to hold it in, and in between a silent agreement by all of them, Gerard and Brian got into the ambulance right away. Brian on the phone, canceling the show, whatever, burning down the fucking stage and those damned fucking lights.
Then there was Frank, and tubes were already attached, and people being careful, needles, machines, and beeping, and Frank. Right there, unmoving. And Gerard's body starts shaking again when he sees Frank's face.
Standing up on weak knees, Gerard moves for the sake of moving and starts pacing up and down the hallway, the reception, and over and over again in front of the room they took Frank into. Gerard's fingertips are numb and trembling, he's nervous and scared and starting to panic all over again, worse than when he did on stage. Leaning against the wall, he closes his eyes and tries to even his breathing, focus on just breathing. He tries to ignore the smell of the hospital, the squeaking of shoes against the floor, the small chatter between nurses and just breathe.
"Gerard, just-" and Gerard jolts up standing straight, eyes big and expecting. Mikey's suddenly in front of him.
"Is the doctor out yet? Did they say anything?" Gerard doesn't even wait for Mikey's response and goes to the main desk, where Brian and Ray have been rooted since they came.
"Have they said anything, Brian? How long will they take? For fuck’s sake, I need to see him!" and there's that violent shaking of Gerard's hand again, and all he can see in his mind is Frank's face, and it's limp and quiet and unmoving.
Ray puts his arms around Gerard, and it helps, just for a few seconds, but it still helps.
"He'll be okay, Gee. They'll fix him. It's going to be fine." Gerard is trying to believe it, trying his hardest to let the thought sink in, but it won't. And then he tries to breathe in again, tries to calm himself down, but the smell of the hospital is making him sick and he feels dizzy.
Letting go of Ray, Gerard goes back to pacing and walking around aimlessly, does it for the sake of having something to do, passing time. Then he stands and looks at everyone around him. Brian is still heatedly discussing with the receptionist about when the fuck would they get out, it's been more than four hours, damn it. And Ray's still right next to him, close to the edge himself, trying to be calm and reassuring. Then there's Bob standing right with one of the male nurses that brought Frank in, seeming like he's about to punch him for not doing anything, for not having any progress to tell them about, and damn it it's been four fucking hours.
And Worm is right there, with at least ten cups of empty coffee, and he's refilling and standing there, worried too, but trying to do something distracting, and just bringing more coffee around, and it helps them stay awake and be there, because they need to. Then there's Mikey, on the phone, probably with Alicia or someone important, and Gerard knows they're talking about him, because Mikey keeps stealing glances towards Gerard, his face completely drained with worry and gives Gerard a small smile of reassurance, but it just helps Gerard think about Frank, and he's shaking again.
Just about the second Gerard was taking a step to head to the plastic chairs, the door of the operation room flings open and everyone is right in the doctor's face in mere seconds. And Gerard doesn't even wait two breaths before he's interrogating the doctor.
"Is he okay? What happened? Why did you take so long? Can I we see him? Is-"
"Sir, sir, please. I'll explain what needs to be explained. Just give me a second to-"
"Give you a fucking second? Are you fucking serious? You've been inside that fucking room for the past four hours and you want another second? Wha-"
"Bob. Bob, hold it." And Ray's arms are firm and tight on Bob's shoulders, because Bob was an inch away from the doctor's face, and his fist already set to punch. The doctor narrows his eyes at Bob and turns to Brian.
"Okay, I'm Doctor Kane, are any of you related to Mr. Iero?" He looks around the group that's surrounding him and they all start talking at once, some even shouting, telling him that fuck yes they're all related to him, they're in one band, they're all family and -
"Guys, guys. Chill, okay?" Brian looks around them and they all fall quiet and look at the doctor expectantly. Gerard is the worst of them all, clutching to Mikey's arm, about to collapse on the floor if the doctor doesn't say anything right now.
"Doctor, you can tell us what's going on, all of us, it's fine."
And the doctor looks around them all again before sighing and giving in, because really, if he doesn't, he will get his face punched in, it's on everyone's face.
"Well. Mr. Iero suffered a severe spinal injury. We did the best we could to try and fix as much of the damage as possible." The doctor looks down and starts fiddling with some of the papers he had in hand, taking a second or two too long, and fuck was Gerard about to just pass out or wrap his hand around that man's throat.
"Okay, what the fuck happened? Is he okay now?" Brian speaks for the whole group, they all had the same questions in mind, and they just needed to be pushed out.
"Well, Mr. Iero damaged the thoracic disks in his back. We tried the best we could to surgically fix it, but the bones were crushed in together. We put him on steroids to reduce the inflammation from the shock of the injury. All he needs right now is a long rest. He won’t be awake for at least another twenty four hours." And they’re all staring at him, all confused, and for fuck’s sake they just need it in straight forward simple words. A definite yes or no, okay or not.
"In fucking English, damn it," Bob sneers at the doctor. Dr. Kane looks at them all again before speaking.
"Mr. Iero has lost all sense of movement from below the hips. The discs in his spine that affect the movement and feeling of his legs and hips have been completely crushed. There’s a good chance Mr Iero will be a paraplegic. We tried all we can. I'm sorry."
They all fall silent. This isn't happening, that. No, no way in hell. It has to be something else, Frank can’t just. No. Gerard's shaking his head frantically, his fingers bruising Mikey's arm and he's shaking. No, this isn't happening. Gerard's misinterpreting all of this, he heard it wrong, he must have. Why isn't anyone moving and why is everything around him is spinning? Why-
"D-Does that mean he's. He's paralyzed?" And Brian's the strongest, the only one able to actually say the word, and Gerard clutches the wall and holds himself, and he feels an arm wrapped around him, but he's not holding back, he's just standing stiff in shock and about to collapse.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. We're not sure if it's-"
"NO! It can’t, Frank isn't. No. Fuck no. Frank's not paralyzed. He's-He's okay, you-" and Gerard is moving towards the doctor, fist ready to act but he's held back by Ray and Mikey. Just away from the door of the surgery room, just away.
Gerard allows himself to be taken away, and just doesn't want to see that doctor’s face right now. Going back to the waiting area, Ray and Mikey's grip on him loosen and Mikey is about to say something before Gerard lets go and heads for one of the walls.
"No. just fucking no." He doesn't even know what his mind is setting him up to do before Gerard's hitting. Punching and thumping against the white walls. Once. Twice. He keeps punching the goddamned walls until his knuckles are passed the pain and are just throbbing numb.
No. this isn't happening. Why the fuck did this happen, of all people it had to happen to Frank. Fucking fuck. No-
"Gerard! Gerard for fuck’s sake just stop already." And there's Mikey again, hand on Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard's in too much anger, boiling right inside him, in his chest, stomach, his blood is hot and explosive and just no and he keeps punching, ignores Mikey.
"Would you just stop? Frank doesn't need this right now, Gerard." And hearing Frank's name is all that Gerard needs to go stiff and numb all over, and he stops and stares at the wall. "He needs you to be strong for him, be there for him. He doesn't want these kind of fits, okay? Just. Just sit down, for now. We'll figure things out."
He doesn't know if he's moving with or against his will, but he's moving again and the surface of the plastic chair greets his shaking figure. Somehow everyone's back around him, Brian still with the doctor. It's all too quiet and no one's saying anything.
Gerard's sitting but he feels everything around him twisting and turning, spinning and collapsing. Resting his head in his hands, Gerard closes his eyes and he sees Frank, and his whole body shudders. Then there are arms all around him, and he feels all three pairs of them, and they just hold them there. They all hold each other there, no one saying a single word.
Then Gerard feels the world falling down on him and all he sees is dark and crashing, all he feels is blood burning and boiling, body trembling.
This can’t be happening.
-
Gerard tells them firmly that he’ll spend the night at the hospital. None of them want to leave him there alone, but Gerard isn’t budging, and there’s only room for one person in the tiny spare bed in Frank’s room. Reluctantly, the rest of the band and Brian find a hotel nearby, promising that they’ll be there first thing in the morning. Gerard is barely listening to them. He’s finally allowed in Frank’s room, and now all he can do is stare. Stare at Frank as he lies motionless, eyes closed and breathing even, and that’s the tiniest of comforts, but it’s still nowhere near enough.
When Gerard can’t stand to look at Frank anymore, he crawls into the bed and turns his face to the wall, willing sleep to come. He lies awake all night, imagining how Frank will react when he wakes up.
Gerard is woken by soft chattering, and when he opens his eyes and looks up, he can see Brian and Mikey in the doorway.
“Morning, Gee,” Mikey says when he sees that Gerard is awake, crossing the room to inspect Gerard, as if he’s the one who’s in hospital. Cautiously, Gerard turns his head to see Frank. He’s still asleep, but Gerard guesses that soon enough, the drugs will wear off and Frank will wake up, demanding to know what the fuck happened to his body.
“I don’t want the doctors to tell him,” Gerard says suddenly, surprising himself with how fierce his words are. Mikey nods, as if he almost guessed Gerard would want that. “He doesn’t need to hear it from them. It should be us. We. We know him, we love him and he’ll. He’ll trust us,” Gerard finishes quietly, as if Mikey needed an explanation. He didn’t, but he listens patiently anyway, patting Gerard’s shoulder affectionately.
Gerard looks at Brian. “You think so too, right?”
And Brian nods, and the decision is made. Gerard follows them out into the waiting room where Bob and Ray are sitting. They stand up as soon as the others enter, and Bob shoots Gerard a look that he thinks is meant to be reassuring, but just makes his stomach churn. He’s not the one who needs comforting - Frank is. Frank, who’s still lying in a fucking hospital bed, who’s about to wake up and find out that he no longer has the use of his legs. Gerard knows he doesn’t want to be the one to tell him, doesn’t want to see the heartbreak, frustration and anger on Frank’s face, but at the same time, he knows that it’ll be him.
They sit in the waiting room silently, none of them wanting to say anything that would upset anyone else, and really, there’s nothing else to talk about. Brian has made a few calls, told any interviews or shows they had lined up for the next few days that they’ll have to be cancelled, and in the back of his mind, Gerard feels a little guilty about all the kids they’ve undoubtedly disappointed, all the people who will be wondering why their concert was cancelled. And then he thinks of Frank in that bed, and it seems a small price to pay. Because Frank, he’s just paid more than should ever have been asked of him.
“Who’s going to tell him?” Ray asks finally, and Gerard puts his head down.
“Do you want to, Gerard?” Brian asks him, soft and careful not to upset him. Gerard didn’t think he was making it that obvious how much he’s dreading going in to see Frank, but Brian has always been good at reading him. If he’s admitting it, he’s a little nervous about seeing Frank awake. Watching Frank be so fucking still is heartbreaking, but Gerard has a horrible feeling that seeing him awake and in pain is going to be a thousand times worse.
“I guess I’ll tell him, sure,” Gerard says slowly, refusing to look at them. He knows that their eyes are on him, carefully watching to ensure that he doesn’t lose it, doesn’t break down again, but he’s past that, he thinks. Now, there’s just this dull ache, this resignation that this is how it’s going to be, and he has to be strong for Frank. But it’s hard, so hard, not to run out of here and never come back. Only, that wouldn’t be fair to Frank, and who’s Gerard to complain, really? He has perfect use of his legs, of his body. He’s not the one who got crushed by a fucking stage light, and so really, he has no right to even think of leaving Frank here alone.
The doctor appears an hour later, and even though he hides it, putting forward the professional persona, Gerard can tell that he’s almost nervous. Scared of telling them that Frank is awake, that he wants to see them. Gerard bites back a sneer, knowing that the doctor can’t be nearly as fucking terrified as the rest of them. Brian looks at Gerard, and he nods, following the doctor into the room before the others. Better to get it over and done with straight off. Brian had asked the doctors to keep the information from Frank until Gerard was ready to explain it to him in a way that Frank would understand. He knew that Frank wouldn’t appreciate a whole bunch of medical terms and dodging around the facts.
When Gerard walks into the room, Frank is lying there, head propped up by a couple of pillows and staring at the opposite wall. His eyes are dull, blank, and Gerard is suddenly really fucking terrified of talking to him. And it shouldn’t be that way, it shouldn’t. He’s shared everything with Frank. Frank is the last person he sees at night, the person he wakes up to in the morning. Frank is the one Gerard kisses, holds. Gerard’s used to seeing a sparkle in Frank’s eyes, a childish mischief that’s a delight to witness. He’s not used to this Frank, the one who’s staring blankly ahead as though he can’t even see.
Gerard edges forward, lowering himself into the chair beside Frank’s bed, and finally, Frank turns his head.
“Hey Frank,” Gerard tries, and he can feel his heart racing, his pulse thumping.
“I can’t feel my legs,” Frank whispers, and his voice wavers as he speaks. Gerard feels his heart break, and he reaches forward for Frank’s hand, gripping it tightly and trying to lend Frank whatever strength he has.
“There was an accident, on stage. The light, it fell and. Frank, it fell on your back and you.” And Gerard has to stop there, because where’s he supposed to go from here?
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Frank asks, and Gerard realises that so far, he’s doing a really shitty job of hiding his own fear and apprehensions from Frank.
“It’s. I. Yeah, it uh. It kind of is,” Gerard admits, and he squeezes Frank’s hand as he says it, hopes to feel Frank squeeze back. There’s nothing, just Frank staring at him, drilling holes through his mind as if looking for the answers himself, and Gerard swallows stiffly. “It uh, it damaged your spine, Frank. You’re.” He can’t bring himself to say it. You’re a paraplegic. You won’t walk again. It’s too harsh, too hard, and Frank doesn’t deserve this, any of this.
“Gerard, please. Just tell it to me straight,” Frank pleads, and Gerard stares at him a moment before he gives in.
“The doctors say you’re. You’re a paraplegic, Frank. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Gerard forces out, and he can feel his eyes stinging, but he’s not going to cry. He won’t do that to Frank. Now is Frank’s time, and if Frank wants to cry, fine, but Gerard’s job is to be strong for him, and that’s what he’s going to do. It’s just so unfair. Frank shouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed. Frank’s supposed to be bouncing, jumping, thrashing on his guitar and full of energy.
“I. A what? It won’t - the feeling - it won’t come back?” And Frank’s practically pleading with him now, as if Gerard’s the one who can restore the feeling in his legs, as if Gerard holds all the answers. Gerard wishes he did.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, because he can’t bring himself to shut Frank down, to tell him that no, it’s permanent. Gerard doesn’t have any experience with this sort of thing. He’s not used to having to deliver such heartbreaking news, not used to having to crush a person’s dreams just because of some shitty freak accident.
“But. But that means... That means I can’t play.”
The words hit Gerard hard, and it’s the first time he even thinks of that. But he’s right, and that’s more devastating than anything they’d thought of before. Frank’s going to have to be in a fucking wheelchair. Frank can’t get on that stage again, can’t thrash around and play his little heart out, can’t tour with them and keep living the life they’d been living. Frank’s going to need special care, he’s going to have to be looked after, and there’s no way in hell they can do that on a tour bus, constantly on the move.
Gerard can’t even speak, can’t reassure Frank, can’t make it all better. He watches him, watches the way Frank’s mind ticks over everything, the way he slowly begins to realise that this is the end of his career, that he’s done with, that his dream is over, and Gerard can barely stand to watch. He can see every piece of heartbreak, every fall and twitch in Frank’s expression, the way he avoids Gerard’s eyes and goes back to staring at the wall, ignoring everything around him. Gerard feels tears welling up in his eyes again, and he brushes them away angrily, because if Frank’s not even crying, he shouldn’t be either.
“Are the others here?” Frank says finally, and Gerard nods wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak.
“I’ll. I’ll go get them,” he says, and Frank nods stiffly.
As Gerard walks out of the room and back to the waiting room, legs feeling like jelly, he can’t help but feel a little bit hurt at how unresponsive Frank was with him. He already misses his Frank, misses the way Frank smiles, the glint in his eyes. He tries to tell himself that it’s okay, that Frank will be back with them as soon as he’s out of hospital and on the road to recovery, but he can’t make himself believe it. Frank’s eyes. They had been so dead.
The band stands up as soon as Gerard enters the room, and he looks towards the ground. “He wants to see you,” he says, and he feels them bustling past him. Mikey pauses, puts a hand on his shoulder and Gerard looks up.
“You coming?” Mikey asks, and Gerard shakes his head.
He needs a few minutes alone, to gather himself before he has to go back in there and face Frank. He knows that if he goes back in there now, he’s going to lose it, and he doesn’t want to upset Frank any more than he already is. Mikey nods and leaves him there, following the others to go and see if they can repair some of the damage.
Gerard, he sinks down into a chair and hopes that the next time he goes in there, Frank is smiling. He knows it won’t happen.
-
They're all sitting scattered in one room, each one of them trying to process and comprehend the shock that was just dropped on them. Gerard’s sitting next to the open window, sunglasses on, gripping his cigarette too tight and practically crushing the filter. Mikey can tell the anger is still there. Ray's on the floor, leaning against the wall and on the phone with someone, talking in whispers. Bob is sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped together and eye cast downwards, a concerned frown plastered to his face. Mikey can't help but turn to his brother again.
Mikey and Brian had to physically drag Gerard out of the hospital to come to the hotel. Gerard didn't want to leave; he sat there rooted and stubborn, in Frank's room just waiting, just watching Frank. He wouldn't listen to them when they told him he needed to sleep, to call it a day and just go and rest. No, Gerard wasn't buying any of that shit. Not until he was manhandled out of the hospital, curses under his breath and barely keeping himself together in one piece.
Since they got to the hotel, Gerard has smoked one cigarette after the other, rubbing at his eyes from under his sunglasses from time to time. Mikey doesn't want to think about whether Gerard’s crying or not. Seeing him as he broke the news to Frank was already hard enough. Mikey had to keep it together, for Frank's sake and for Gerard's.
Just as Mikey is about to stand up and go to Gerard, just sit with him and just be there, the door opens and Brian walks in.
"Hey, guys."
A round of mumbled responses echoes from everyone and Mikey notices how Gerard doesn't tear his gaze from the window.
They all fall silent and Mikey can see that Brian’s almost struggling, wanting to say something. Mikey keeps looking between Brian and everyone else. They all seem to end up looking at Gerard then back to Brian, and it’s quiet.
Brian lets out a sigh, knowing that someone just has to say it, that it's there on everyone's mind, but no one's doing or saying anything.
"What's up?" Mikey really intends to ask, what happens now? What do we do? What's the next step? How bad is this going to hurt us all? How big are the consequences? But Mikey can't get himself to say it, he just can't.
Running a hand through his hair, Brian looks at all of them and they all look back, even Gerard now, from behind his sunglasses as he stubs out his cigarette.
"We need a replacement for Frank, obviously. I’ve got Cortez and he's ready to go any time. Cancelling the show the other night was, well, kind of seriously disappointing to the fans, especially seeing as we decided to cancel a couple more until further notice. But we need to get this together, you guys, you know it." Brian looks like he really is trying to make this as easy as it possibly can be, and Mikey can see his struggle.
Mikey turns around to see everyone else's reactions. Bob’s nodding in silent agreement and Ray’s looking at Gerard. So does Mikey now, and it kills seeing Gerard like that. Completely drained and so close to simply shattering. Then Gerard's lips are moving, tight with the anger still there.
"Fuck. It's. It's not like it’s the first time Cortez has fucking filled in for Frank. Let's just get this shit over and done with."
Mikey swallows hard. The anger is still burning in Gerard and Mikey feels like walking up to him and just holding him there to just calm him down. He can see Gerard's hand starting to shake from where he's sitting. Gerard holds his hands together and looks down, jaw clenched tight, an angry frown on his face.
"Yeah, exactly. So we'll just finish off the tour with Cortez. Everything's already sorted. You guys are cool with that right? I just have to let the-"
"We are, Brian. It's okay." Gerard settles it firmly and Mikey's looking at him, but Gerard hasn't moved from his position, and it's starting to scare Mikey.
"Alright. Just try and get some rest and sleep, you guys. I haven't seen one of you in a bed in two days, please." And that's the end of whatever meeting-update thing that just happened, and Mikey expects Brian to leave or go handle the rest of the shit that needs to be managed.
But Brian's half angel, half God and Mikey sees him walking towards Gerard and sitting down next to him. They talk quietly and Brian puts his hand on Gerard's shoulder and then they both look at each other before Brian wraps his arms around Gerard and just hugs him.
Mikey feels helpless and useless, like he should be the one there, doing that for Gerard. But he can't and he doesn't even know why. And Mikey can't stand looking at his brother, weak and vulnerable like that; it's killing him. Mikey can't even start to think about Frank and Gerard's relationship, or the whole picture, the band, the touring, the new album. It's all too much, it's all too raw and it scares Mikey when he thinks about what this could do Gerard and Frank. It could end them and-
A hand is on Mikey's shoulder and he's torn from his thoughts. He looks up from where he's sitting and sees Brian's figure standing in front of him.
"Hey, Mikey. I just spoke to Gerard for a bit, and we'll be going to the hospital later to tell Frank what's happening, keep him updated. "
"Um. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."
Brian sits down next to Mikey on the opposite chair and leans forward.
"I know that all of this is too sudden and quick, Mikey. But you seriously need to look after Gerard, don't let him get too caught up in himself."
And out of all people, Brian is telling Mikey this. But Mikey knows Gerard, knows his brother maybe a little too much. Mikey knows how Gerard works, how he thinks. He knows that deep inside him, Gerard's playing the guilt and blame game and is probably convincing himself that it’s somehow his fault. Gerard won’t stop thinking about all sorts of shit, not when he’s in the middle of all of this. But Mikey, on the other hand, can't just give up on his brother and skip the whole situation like it means nothing. It’s worse, the whole situation means everything.
"I will, don't worry about it, Brian. Gerard's my brother, I know how he's like. He just. He just needs some time right now." And Brian nods because he does understand.
"I know. It all just needs time. And we'll just take this a step as it comes, just look after him."
"I will, Brian, you know I will."
Because Mikey knows that he will take care of Gerard, even if he knows he can't just go up to his brother and make him spill his heart out. Everything's too raw and it's too soon, and Mikey knows that Gerard will come and talk to him, at some point, sooner or later. And Mikey will be there, right next to him, listening. Mikey knows his part before Gerard comes to talk, Mikey will just be there, as a distraction, a reassurance, to hug Gerard when he needs it, at any time, the whole time. Tell him it'll be okay just when he needs to hear it because he knows that it'll keep Gerard going for a while, and just, Mikey's going to be there for Gerard. Period. He always did and he always will; it’s just something that happens, something natural and as familiar as skin on bone.
Then Brian is standing up and patting Mikey on the back before he's out the door. Mikey looks back at Gerard. He's curled in on himself and leaning against the now closed window. Standing up and walking to his brother, Mikey doesn't wait for Gerard to acknowledge his presence before wrapping his arms around him. Mikey can sense that Gerard was about to tell him to just fuck off, because he knows that Gerard doesn't want this bullshit sympathy, not when the anger is still there and Frank's too far away. But Gerard doesn't, because he's a notch more vulnerable than he makes himself seem, so he leans in to the embrace and holds Mikey back.
"I'm scared, Mikey. So fucking terrified," Gerard whispers in Mikey's ear, and Mikey's close to lying to him and telling Gerard that there is no reason to be scared, but Mikey knows better.
"I know, Gee. We all are, we just have to be strong for him"
"I'm not sure if I can, Mikey."
-
Forcing his eyelids open, Frank squints as he tries to adjust to the light. It takes him a couple of minutes to register the fact that he's still in the hospital, that this is all actually happening. It's not a nightmare that he can wake up from, it's real. He closes his eyes tightly again. He doesn't want this, none of this is supposed to happen. Everything hurts everywhere, his back, his neck. It’s somehow worse that there’s no pain in his legs, that he can’t feel them at all. Frank's heart clenches at the thought whenever it comes back to him. Gerard's words, in his mind over and over again.
You're a paraplegic, Frank.
Paraplegic.
Never walking again. Never moving. Never on stage again.
Never.
And the words keep turning and spinning inside his head, and they won’t go away. They swirl and mix in with the thoughts and emotions, and it's all too heavy and he wishes that he never woke up. He wishes he was sleeping again, and he curses the sedatives for wearing off.
Looking around, there are tubes, monitors, machines and everything around him. Nothing looks hopeful and no life looks back at him, just machines and himself. Then he turns to the window and stares outside with a broken look on his face.
I can't do this.
And Frank has to look away from the blank window pane and the still life that looks back at him. He can't stand it, he can't stand the fucking thought that he won’t be able to just simply move, get up and go.
He can't do this.
Resting his head back on the pillow and taking in a deep breath, Frank already feels exhausted and drained from just those simple movements. Trying to push himself with his elbows, Frank looks down on himself, looks at his legs, and a part of his soul just closes in on itself and breaks at the sight. His legs, limp and unmoving, and he tries, tells his brain and his body to correlate and coordinate, but nothing, nothing responds.
Frank has to hold himself and not breakdown right then and there. He holds it and it burns his chest, burns in his back and sets fire through him. But nothing's moving, and he's just there, just a body, a corpse. He feels like pulling out all the wires and throwing himself to wherever he lands, just not on this bed, not in this hospital, not in those legs. Then he starts trembling and he's clutching to the bed covers so hard his knuckles are white and painful, and he just wants to rip everything to shreds, everything.
Just as Frank is about to try and sit up on his own again, trying his best to ignore the shooting pain that cripples his body, he sees the door being creaked open. Two familiar figures are walking in and Frank knows who they are, and closes his eyes shut. Gerard and Brian come towards Frank's bed and Frank can feel their presence, but they don't realise that Frank's awake until he forces his eyes open again. And Frank just looks past Gerard and Brian, to the wall behind them. He can’t stand to look at anyone, no one at all. Especially not Gerard. Not when he's right there, in front of him, holding his hand now, warm and familiar, but Frank still feels numb.
"Hey, Frank," Gerard whispers softly, and tries to lean in for a kiss, but Frank turns his head to the other side and locks his eyes on the window frame.
He can't stand this. Everything and everyone's acting like all of this is normal, like nothing fucking happened. None of them get it, not even Gerard fucking understands. Frank feels Gerard's hand tense when he refuses to look at him, but Frank just can't, it all hurts too much, at every seam.
"Frank. Frank, please look at me."
And Frank can feel the warmth of Gerard's palm against his face and he can’t help but close his eyes and lean into the touch. It's enough comfort for just this split second, enough warmth to make him forget just for a fraction of a breath, just enough to give him the energy to open his eyes and look into Gerard's.
"Hey," Frank manages to croak out, and his voice is scratchy and it almost hurts to use his vocal cords, but it's better than nothing. At least that part of him is actually functioning.
Frank sees Brian grabbing a chair for both himself and Gerard and they both sit down, Gerard not letting go of Frank's hand while he's sitting. Brian gives Frank a small smile and looks at him.
"How're you feeling today, Iero?"
And Frank shrugs because really, what can he fucking say? ‘Oh, I still can’t feel my legs and probably never will. I'm still stuck in this bed and feel like a corpse, like a useless piece of wood, just being there.’ Has he mentioned that he feels like shit? Like he wants to rip out all the wires and throw himself out of the building?
"I'm fine, just a bit tired." Because really, he just can’t register the thought and can’t form it into words. Because maybe saying that he's fine will make him fine, saying that he'll be good to go soon might actually make himself believe so. Maybe lying and denying might work, Frank doesn't know, and at this point, Frank just wants to go back into nothingness, just deep dark sleep, where nothing happens.
"Yeah, you need to rest up and get better now. We just wanted to come and tell you about something." Brian looks pointedly at Gerard, and Frank knows it’s Gerard's turn to continue. And it feels like something bad, because he can already feel his stomach twisting, and Frank looks at Gerard and waits for it.
Gerard's grip on his hand tightens. "We wanted to ask you. The tour. We." Gerard has to take in a deep breath and lift up his head to look at Frank before he continues. "We have to continue with the tour, we already cancelled a couple of shows and. Brian got Cortez to fill in, and I know that-"
"I can’t believe you're asking my fucking permission for this. Fuck yeah you have to finish the tour, we're not just. Not because of me, no, I don't want you guys to. Cortez is great. It's not the first time." And probably won’t be the last, Frank thinks to himself. Frank feels Gerard's lips kissing his hand softly and Frank has to look away, because he still can’t, this is all too much, but he won’t allow it to show, he just forces himself to breathe.
"It's just for now, nothing permanent, just to finish off the tour with. Then, then we'll get this sorted."
Of course it's fucking permanent, all of it. Frank's unmoving legs are permanent, Frank not being to walk, move or play on stage ever again is fucking permanent. All of this is plain and perfectly permanent.
"Yeah, I guess. That's what you guys need to do. Just don't call off anymore shows, just. Yeah."
Gerard stands up and holds Frank's hand against Gerard's chest and looks at him directly, Gerard's eyes burning against Frank's dull ones. Frank can see Gerard trying to hold on, not break loose. He sees the broken pieces of him, just right at the rims of his pupils, edges of olive, all masked with faux strength.
"I'm here, Frank, It'll be okay. I promise," Gerard whispers close again, and he's clutching Frank's hand right over his heart, against his warm chest.
Frank's stuck in between pulling his hand away and telling Gerard to just leave the fucking room and to stop lying, and wanting to pull Gerard close and hold him with him right there on the bed. Just to feel some familiarity, some normalcy, just Gerard. But he can’t, it's all too much, everything and everyone's too much, and there's still the anger and there are still freshly opened wounds and shocks are still unabsorbed and it all hurts too much. It all feels like a heavy weight collapsing on his chest and holding him there, making him struggle for breath. Every limb of his body feels like they're in a world of their own. He can’t feel his legs and nothing is willing to coordinate with each other. His arms and body all feel heavy and there are too many wires and too many monitors.
Then Gerard's leaning forward, and Frank has to shut his eyes, because he doesn't want this, not now. It's too much. Warm lips settle on his forehead and Gerard plants a kiss there and rests his forehead against Frank's.
"I love you," Gerard whispers softly and Frank can feel his warm breath tingling against his face, and he can’t. He can’t say it back, or say anything for that matter. All of Frank's energy is focused on just breathing.
"Gerard." And that's all that Frank manages to say, that's all his heart and his energy allows him too.
"It's alright, Frank. Just rest up now, okay?" Gerard stands up straight and waits for Frank to respond, and Frank gives the merest of nods and hopes that's enough to just keep Gerard quiet and away, because having him too close is just too much.
"Yeah." Then Frank closes his heavy eyelids and wishes for sleep to overcome him. He tries not to think about Gerard and Brian leaving. He tries not to think about his unmoving legs.
And most of all he tries not to think about the screaming and the crowd cheering for them, but they're all there, still cheering, and Frank's here.
Still motionless.
Part Two