Young and Doomed | Frerard

Chapter Six

y'all im literally updating once a month but that's fine, here's a fucking TEN CHAPTER spam

They were coming.

They were chasing Mikey again, but no matter how fast he ran he couldn't seem to get away. He swatted overhanging brush away from his face as he dashed through the undergrowth, not paying any mind to direction. It didn't matter where he was going as long as he was going away from them. Mikey felt his legs ache, begging him to stop, but he pressed forward. He had to keep running.

Mikey had really thought finally waking up had meant the end of being chased, but obviously not. They were coming for him now, more of them, and it never seemed to stop. Why was he still running? What was the point?

His lungs burned with fire, and his muscles screamed for air as he forced himself to go on. The sound of blood rushing in his ears filled his head, and he ran blindly into the woods.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

They were catching up to him now, getting closer and closer, Icy fingers wrapped around over his eyes, his neck, his face; choking him, strangling him . . . Mikey couldn't breathe, oh God, he couldn't breathe!

"Dude, chill out!"

That's not how the voices sound. Mikey thought, realizing someone else was here. Someone else was here! But before he could process this, the fingers wrapped tighter. They wouldn't let go – why wouldn't they let go? What had he done to deserve this? What had he done wrong this time?

"I'm s-sorry," Mikey stammered out, hoping he could fix it. Maybe if they knew it was an accident they'd forgive him. Maybe if they knew then they would let go . . .

"Holy shit!"

Mikey's eyes snapped open, and he was yanked forwards into consciousness to find Bob staring at him, his face a reflection of Mikey's shock. "Fuck, you can talk!" Bob was in awe, and Mikey paused, realizing Bob was the voice in his dream.

Oh, Mikey thought suddenly. Dream. It was only a dream. Had every time he'd been chased just been a dream?

"Have you always been able to do that?" Bob said, before correcting himself. "I mean, since the coma and shit."

"Y-Yeah." Mikey replied shakily. His words were slow and his tongue seemed to stick to his cheeks and the roof of his mouth. "I can talk."

"Well," Bob raised his brows. "You should have seen yourself a few seconds ago. Your oxygen tube got all messed up, and when I tried to fix it you started fucking hyperventilating." He sighed. "If only I had known you could move, then I wouldn't have messed with it."

"No." Mikey breathed, closing his eyes for a moment to settle himself. Why was the room always spinning? He wished the fingers hadn't grabbed at this throat; now he felt dizzy. "I can't move. Just talk, I think." He tried flexing an arm. Nothing.

"Yikes, man." Bob said, blowing out a quick breath. "I hope you get better soon."

"Uh, you too," Mikey wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond. Gosh, was Bob even a patient? No, he is. Mikey reminded himself, remembering Bob's conversation with his father. "You're sick, right?" He asked anyway, just to be sure.

"Sure, but not like you, man." Bob said, sitting back down on his bed. "Just back for chemo, again." He let out an irritated sigh. "I really thought I was done with it this time, but I guess the universe had other plans. My parents are happy to dump me off anywhere, though."

"Oh." What was chemo? And why were Bob's parents happy about it? Mikey didn't remember his parents. Shoot, was he supposed to? How many things was he forgetting? "Bob," Mikey started, and Bob glanced over at him in surprise. "You know my name." He stated, but Mikey ignored him. "How did I get here?"

Bob shook his head slowly. "No clue, man. But if it means anything, it sounded gnarly from what I'd overheard."

"What did you hear?" Mikey asked, and Bob shrugged. "Just stuff you probably already know. It sounded like you were pretty lucky to survive." He waited a moment, before saying quietly, "Were you in foster care, dude? They mentioned a lot of . . . things."

"Was I in what?" Mikey tilted his head, and Bob blew out his breath quickly. "That was rude of me, forget I said anything. It's not my business."

Where was Mikey before he came here? You were pretty lucky to survive. What had happened? Mikey didn't have a clue what Bob was talking about, but decided to leave the silence in the room as it was.

✰✰✰

It was one am when Mikey heard it. A sigh.

Just a small one, nothing out of the ordinary. It was so soft it could have been mistaken for a noise made in one's sleep, but Mikey knew better than that. He knew Bob was awake, and he knew that the sigh had come from him.

Whether or not to say something, that's what he didn't know.

Today had been fairly similar to yesterday; more doctors, more tests. But generally, it had been a lot of nothing. There wasn't much to do when you couldn't move your limbs, but Mikey did find himself being a small part grateful for the numbness in his arms. This gratefulness usually surfaced during the extensive blood draws he seemed to have to endure occasionally – watching the thick, dark liquid pool out of his veins into the vial made his stomach twist, but it wasn't like he could turn away or anything. Closing his eyes was the best it got for now, Mikey supposed.

Eventually, a mix of curiosity, boredom, and an overall lack of interaction got the best of Mikey, and he spoke up. "Bob?"

A moment of silence. Then, "What?"

Mikey paused. What was he supposed to say? Oh, I just heard you making some sad noises – supposed I'd check in on you, being a complete stranger, paralyzed, in the opposing hospital bed.

Good one, Mikey.

"Are you okay?" He went with instead, and Bob grunted. "Yes. Fine."

"Oh," Mikey breathed. "Right." He began to suppose that he should have just kept his mouth shut when Bob broke the silence. (If you could call it that - the beeping and whoosh noises from monitors seemed to be never-ending).

"I'm sorry-" Mikey had just begun to say, when the older boy had cut him off. "No, I'm sorry because I'm not fine." Bob said, not looking up from his bed. His face was illuminated by a pale light. A phone, Mikey's head told him, and he remained silent as we waited for Bob to continue.

"My girlfriend broke up with me today. Well, tonight, I guess." Bob admitted at last, and Mikey bit his lip (a newfound ability, but fairly easy to do by sucking it in rather than moving the lip itself). "Bob, I'm sorry." He said softly, and Bob nodded from where he laid.

"Nah, man, it's whatever." Bob brushed him off. "It was coming, you know?" Mikey didn't know, but he made a noise of agreement nonetheless. "She was going to do it sometime, I just didn't think – Not while I'm here," Bob's voice broke off. His face seemed to reflect the light stronger now, in bright streaks and – Oh, God, was he crying?

Bob was crying, Mikey realized with a jolt, and he froze. Shoot, shoot, shoot. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to help.

"Bob?" Mikey whispered, and Bob looked up for the first time that night, meeting the other's eyes. "Yeah?" He replied, and Mikey paused, before spitting it out.

"What's a girlfriend?"

IM NOT PROOFREADING ANYMORE LMAO SO PLS TELL ME ABOUT TYPOS PLLEEEAAASE