To Join The Black Parade

TJTBP - Chapter 8.

Chapter 8.

Frank's POV

Doctors and nurses were everywhere, crowding around Gerard. My feet were frozen to the ground in the doorway, as were Mikey's. Eventually, though, they kicked us out and my nerves came back.

I sat cross legged, facing the wall, hitting my head on the wall beside his door and rubbing my temples with my forefingers. How could I have been so stupid? If he dies, I would never get to apologize...

Mikey looked at me. "Frank..."

I turned around. "What is it?" I asked, my voice cracking, to my surprise. I felt the tears coming, but I kept it to my self at the moment.

He looked sympathetic. "Don't let this beat you u-"

"Yes, I will!" I cried out, getting a few nurses watching my battle with my best friend's brother. I heard the solid beep inside, and I knew it was over. Then I heard nothing.

No.

No!

I banged on the door endlessly, Mikey trying to pull me back. "No! NO NO NO! LET ME IN!" I screamed. Finally the door opened and the doctor walked out, looking worn out and sad. I didn't need to hear it, so I just embraced Mikey and didn't let go.

"We've got him on life support, and if we take him off..." The doctor looked sad. I forgot his name, but he's been here this whole time.

I fought back the tears by chewing on my bottom lip. Mikey and I let go and we faced him. "Go on," I said in a scratchy voice.

"Well, apparently his lung collapsed and with the meds he was on did nothing to stop that--it was pretty unexpected-- and we don't think he's going to make it. Any ideas how this could happen?"

Immediately Mikey turned to me and I felt a huge pang of guilt in the bottom of my dark heart. Then is disappeared into a huge hole that was stabbed through.

Gerard.

Dying.

What would this mean for the band? Would we ever be able to do anything together with the absense of Gerard there to be hyped up on coffee and bounce off the walls?

No.

We would never be the same.

The doctor narrowed his eyes into slits. "Exactly how do you think you played in a factor in his death?" he snarled at me.

"Well, I got a little mad and he got mad and we pushed each other around but I went too far and he crashed in the monitor..." My voice was hollow. Empty.

Gone.

He growled. "Did he want to die?"

"Not that I know of..." I mumbled.

"You better be lucky I'm not including you in the cause of death. You can be in prison right now, I do hope you realize that. I'll just say he was weak from the cancer and he couldn't hold up anymore. I should have the nerve..." he muttered, pacing. "What is your name?"

"Frank Iero." I felt nervous. Was he going to report me? For something that probably didn't even cause him to die?

"Be lucky, Mr. Iero." He speedwalked off. He was rude. A nurse walked out and gestured us in to the room.

Gerard was lost in a array of many different tubes, a couple to his mouth, the rest in his arms mostly trying to keep him stable. He was deathly pale, his beanie gone, and the monitor was wobbling.

Deja vu for when I was dying.

I saw a machine that was the closest to him that was the one leading the tubes to his mouth. My guess was that was the life support.

Mikey sighed. "I'll leave you with him." And he walked out. I saw Ray and Bob running just as he shut the door.

I pulled up my chair by his bed and stared at him; took everything in. He was wearing an MCR t-shirt with the Revenge logo, and I couldn't see under the sheets but I guessed pajamas.

"Hey buddy," I said softly, smiling. He didn't respond.

Of course not. And I was stupid to think he would.

"I can't believe I did this to you Gerard. I'm so, so sorry," I whispered, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Again, no response.

This was the end.

"I love you," I said one last time before kissing him on the cheek--I couldn't get the lips because of the tubes.

I felt something from the hand that was holding his. A movement. Was he okay? The monitor didn't agree with that, but Gerard was a powerful man. I couldn't believe it. "Gerard? Gerard?! Squeeze my hand again."

No response. Had I dreamt it in my misery? I couldn't have; that squeeze was real.

Or was I crazy?

I waited and waited, getting more and more impatient with him. "Gerard, if you're going to squeeze my hand."

There it was.

He squeezed it faintly before the monitor got slower and slower, until finally it stopped all together in a solid line. I reached up, never letting go of his hand, and shut the monitor off. I sunk back in my chair and burst into tears.

Forever alone.

_______

D:

Did I make you cry?

I almost cried writing this, but I had a bad day so I don't feel any emotion at the moment.

I bet I'll cry when I read it later though.

Sorry.

Next chapter will be the title's meaning.