"Mikey, please open the door," I pleaded. Frank and I were sat, our backs against his bedroom door. I gave up on banging with my hand, and so ended up hitting my head rather harshly on the cheap, hollow wood before resting it and closing my eyes. I let out a heavy sigh.
"Pete's an asshole," Frank muttered, and I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. I nodded my head. He was an asshole. But my brother loved him.
"Mikes," I whined, lifting my head to bang it awkwardly off the door once again, but multiple times. Who needs arms, right?
I heard shuffling from inside the room, and Frank froze slightly, his lips twitching. He went to speak, but then sighed when we heard Mikey's bed springs creak, telling us he'd resorted to sleeping.
"C'mon." Frank tapped me on my leg and started to stand. "He wants to be alone."
"Mm," I hummed, deep in thought. I creased my eyebrows together as I stood, and Frank took my hand. Rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb helped to relax me as we walked towards the sofa and sat. We assumed our usual positions; me sat upright, Frank laying across me with his head in my lap. My hand usually mindlessly found itself in his hair, but my mind was somewhere else at that moment in time.
"Gerard?" Frank asked quietly, sitting up slightly. "Mikey will be fine, don't worry. He has to come out at some point-"
"You don't know that he will," I cut in, my words distant but sharp at the same time. "He could take after me."
Frank raised an eyebrow slightly. "What do you mean?"
I sighed. Frank sat upright now, and wound up on my lap, facing me. I pushed some hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear.
"Where to start," I thought out loud, pursing my lips. "It happened when mine and Mikey's Grandma passed away."
Immediately, I had Frank's full attention. I remembered the first and only time I'd spoken to him about Grandma Elena; that day at the graveyard. Only, I'd left some details out.
"It was...traumatic? I don't know how else to discribe it, really. Not for her, she died in her sleep. It was peaceful and painless for her. I, however, didn't take it so well."
Frank gulped, and I felt him shift on top of me; presumably getting more comfortable. I lifted my head and glanced at him, but he had his eyes closed. He opened them slightly, but he couldn't seem to focus them.
"Hey," I soothed. "Frank, hey, are you alright?" I reached up to touch his cheek. He didn't reply. I creased my eyebrows together. "Frank?"
"Mm," he mumbled, his eyes squinting. "I'm fine, just c-carry o-" his words cut off and I felt him go limp in my arms.
"Frank," I pressed. "This isn't funny. Look at me."
No response. I started to get a little frantic.
"Fuck, Frank." I held his face in my hands. "Frank, are you okay?"
No response.
"Mikey!" I yelled. "Mikey you fucking asshole, ring an ambulance!"
I heard the latch on his door click suddenly and Mikey came scrambling in. "What's happened? Oh my God, is Frank okay?"
"I don't know," I stuttered. "Call 911, now."
-
"Are you Gerard Way?" A male doctor approached Mikey and I as we sat in the Hospital's waiting area. I had been impatiently tapping my foot for the past two hours and failing to keep my hands from shaking.
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