Take Me By The Hand

LIV

The bed beneath me is comfortable enough, but it feels too stiff against my back. My nipples hurt and my lower back aches and my ankles feel swollen. There's a set of headphones on my stomach and I can hear the soft tune as it plays to the twins, something to calm them. It does nothing to calm me.

I let my head roll to the side. Mikey is curled up on the bed next to me. I thought he'd fallen asleep, but his bright eyes are open, watching me. He doesn't say anything, but reaches out and holds my hand. The simple gesture makes a lump rise in my throat because it shows, even without words, that he's scared. I can feel it. He's just as terrified as I am now that we know how the twins are going to be born. But as he squeezes my hand, I also know that I'm not alone in this.

"I might die," I state. It's not a question and it surprises me that my voice doesn't even sound the least bit shaky. It's flat. No emotion. A simple proclamation; The grass is green. The sky is blue. I won't live to see the age of seventeen.

"Frankie--" Mikey starts and his tone holds all the sadness I wasn't able to muster.

But I shake my head. "No, Mikes. It's true. And I know Ray and Bob are going to try their damnedest to make sure I don't die, but it could happen. It's a very real possibility and pretending like everything is peachy fucking keen isn't going to help anyone. I'm facing facts."

Mikey is silent for a long time. His presence is reassuring though; It's the only stable thing I've had in a long time, the knowledge that he's there and he's not going anywhere. Part of me wants to curl up with Gerard right now, but another part of me is screaming to push him away. Mikey has always been there for me and I need him. He's safe. He's familiar. And as much as it pains me to admit, Gerard is new. We've been through a lot together since I found out I was pregnant, but it doesn't change the fact that the relationship building between us is still growing, it's developing. And in a month, I could be dead. Why build even more of a relationship with him if my death is inevitable? I don't want to hurt him more than necessary. At this moment, I just want to revel in Mikey's comfort. Mikey seems to understand this. He scoots a little closer on the mattress and rests a hand on my stomach, right under the headphones.

"Are you scared?" He finally asks. His voice is small, barely audible, and he sounds so young suddenly.

"Scared of dying?" I shrug. "Sort of, I guess. But I think I'm more scared of what's going to happen to them if I do."

Mikey hums softly and his grip on me seems to tighten. "Dying never hurts anyone except those it leaves behind."

We fall into silence again. I don't like the silence. It gives me time to think and I don't like the places my mind wanders after that. "My parents wouldn't know," I say. My chest aches at the realization. "If I die, my parents won't even know."

"That was their choice," Mikey tells me sternly. He sits up a bit to meet my gaze with narrowed eyes. "They're the ones who wanted nothing to do with you."

It's a stupid thought, I know that. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm terrified and my parents-- even if they did disown me-- have no idea what's going on right now. They're clueless that their grandchildren are growing so fast. They don't know that having the twins could very possibly kill me. They didn't care enough. But it hurts because I want them to care.

I wonder what they're doing at this moment. My dad is probably at work and my mom in the garden, planting flowers or pulling weeds. They're going on about their lives. Do they think about me? What did they do with my belongings? My bed and clothes? Did they donate them, like they can just erase the memory of me, or pack them away in the attic, a possibility of my return or future children they may have? Do they still have family photos sitting around the house, or did they get rid of those too? Do they pretend I never existed?