Never Coming Home // Frerard

Chapter 2

I sat in the waiting room, hoping for some sort of news on Lindsey's condition, tapping my combat boots on the tiled floor in a mindless rhythm.

I must have sat in there for hours, nothing to do but observe the other people in the room. Some were crying, some whispered to each other, some were asleep and some stared out into space, nothing but rushing worries about their loved ones consuming their minds.

There was one woman who caught my eye, though.

Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but she wasn't sobbing like the other crying people in the room were. She looked lost in her thoughts. She had long, black hair, pulled up into a ponytail, and she was wearing a black hoodie and plaid pajama pants that had drops of blood on them. With a closer inspection, I noticed she had dried blood in the creases of her fingernails, as well. She looked to be about thirty, the way she only a faint trace of creases forming, aging her skin in the slightest way.

She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, her body now shaking, and I could tell she was crying harder. I wondered who she was here for. A lover? A relative? Her parents? Her son or daughter?

I realized I was staring and diverted my attention to the tiles on the ground, instead. They were white with tiny specks of blue, yellow and red throughout them.

I shifted my eyes around and spotted a white pair of shoes standing at the end of the hallway connected to the waiting room. I didn't look up, just perked my ears up in case they called Lindsey's name.

"Frank Iero?" The doctor called. I felt my shoulders drop in dissapointment, but lifted my head up and rested it against the wall behind my chair. I saw the doctor muttering something to the lady I was looking at before. She looked concerned, her eyebrows pulled up in worry. Tears started rolling down her face again, and then they dissapeared down the hallway.

I closed my eyes, hoping for sleep to take me for a few hours before I got news on Lindsey.

-

"Gerard," My little brother whispered, pulling me out of my dreamless sleep.

"Hey, Mikes," I stirred, lifting my head up from the wall behind me. I noticed my mom sitting in the chair directly to the left of me. "When did you guys get here?" I noticed the unmistakable whisp of coffee beans in the air, "And you better have some coffee for me."

"We just now got here. They still have no information on Linds," Mikey informed as he handed me a warm cup of Starbucks coffee. I smiled at him greatfully before sipping it.

"What time is it?" I asked. Mikey took his phone out from his back pocket and clicked it so it would display the time over his Star Wars lock screen.

"Three twenty-two AM." I Almost spit out my coffee. How was I asleep for five hours?

"Thanks," I shrinked back into my chair, sipping more of the burning hot drink. I started subconsciously tapping the toe of my shoe against the tile, my mind wandering back to Lindsey. If it's taken them this long, that can't be a good thing.

How deep was the stab wound? How long was she out there on the street, lying unconsciously before some stranger noticed her and called an ambulance? Where was she stabbed? How much blood did she lose? What if she-

"It's alright, Gee," Mikey said in a calming voice. He always picked up on my nervous tics: tapping my shoe against the floor, staring at nothing, sometimes biting at the skin around my nails. I'm kind of glad he picked up on them. If he didn't, I'd worry myself sick. Literally.

I didn't take medication for it anymore, but I always had really bad anxiety that turned on in the worst situations. I'd been sedated for it, once. Not fun.

"What if it isn't, though?" I asked.

"Don't think like that." Mikey was always the voice of reason, which I liked.

"Sorry," I muttered as I drained the last drops of coffee from my cup.

We waited for a very long time, all of our heads going up hopefully when the doctor walked in, and then slowly dropping in dissapointment when we heard a different name called.

-

"Lindsey Ballato?" The familiar voice of the doctor called. I looked around and noticed that Lindsey's parents left. I checked my phone and saw that it was six in the morning. They must have gone to work.

I lifted myself from my chair and walked up to the doctor. "Hi," I smiled, "I'm Lindsey's boyfriend. How's she doing?"

He sighed, almost as if he pitied me. "Lindsey... she's not doing well. We've had her on life support, but I don't think she's going to make it. We're keeping her on the support for a few more days, and if her condition doesn't get better, we're taking her off." He said it all in a calm voice, but the words still hurt like knives. The girl I've loved for two years is on life support, and I was just told she probably wouldn't make it. After blinking away some stray tears, I met the doctor's eyes again.

"Can I please see her?" I asked, my voice small, as if it was as broken down as I was.

"Yeah, follow me." He led me to a room near the end of the hallway. I walked in and took in the state Lindsey was in: her small, thin body was on the hospital bed, her skin pale and cold. She was sleeping, but her chest was hardly rising and falling like it does when she sleeps at my house.

Life was slowly leaving her body, and I didn't know how much time I had to say goodbye. I sat down in the chair next to her bed and took her small hand in mine.

"Hey, Lindsey," My voice cracked a little bit and I knew this wouldn't be easy. "The doctor told me you probably won't make it," My throat hurt from holding back tears. "I don't know if you're trying to make it. I don't know if you want to make it or not. Honestly, I don't know anything, right now. I just want you to do what makes you happy. I know there's a lot of things you don't like about this world. You've listed them to me before. So, if it makes you happier, don't feel like you need to hold on for me, or for anybody. If moving on," I wiped away some tears that had fallen on my face, "If that would make you happier, then do it. I love you, and I want you to be happy." I started sobbing. My body started shaking and tears started rushing down my face, and I didn't wipe them away. "But damn, it still hurts," I whispered. When I pulled myself together, I stood up, kissed her on the forehead, and walked out to the waiting room.

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Chapter two and Frank still isn't in the story XD he will be soon so don't worry

~XoChase