Sparkle Motion

~Part 4

When Gerard woke up, he couldn't see.

Obviously someone was trying to kill him.

There was no other possible explanation for it. First the whole Sparkle Motion thing, then getting locked in to like, a place that shouldn't even have existed, and then just when he realized that he might, in theory, want to participate in some activity involving Frank and nudity and took steps to make that happen (okay, he didn't running screaming when *Frank* took steps, but that was step in itself for Gerard) he found himself devoid of the optical equipment necessary to fully...engage.

Clearly it was an attempt on his life. He had finally gotten himself a butt-crazy fan in like, Arkansas or somewhere who was doing voodoo on a tiny wooden Gerard. With needles. Needles in its eyes.

Okay, he couldn't think about the needles. He couldn't think about the needles or he would throw up. He tried to sit up but realized very quickly that his head was filled with broken glass and dinosaurs, and it would be best to lie very, very still and not disturb them.

He felt around a bit with his hands - he was on a couch, he could tell that much. The couch in question was moving slightly, which told him they were still on the road, and someone was talking quietly.

"Um," he said, not sure what direction to look in. "Hi?"

"He's awake," said someone - Mikey - and Gerard felt the couch dip behind his head. "Hey, how do you feel?"

"Like someone tried to mine through my skull." Gerard felt Mikey's hands on his face, stroking his temples. "What happened?"

There was movement and Gerard felt someone else by his side, someone taking his hand. "You hit your head on the counter." Frank. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah." Gerard remembered, all right. He remembered waking Frankie up, and he remembered their hugely embarrassing conversation, and he remembered that the bus had veered wildly just as Gerard was about to kiss Frank and change things forever. He wasn't sure whether to thank the driver or have a contract taken out on his life. "How long was I out?"

"About twenty minutes. We'll be at the hospital soon."

Gerard groaned. "I hate hospitals."

"I know." Mikey rubbed Gerard's shoulder, stroked his hair. "But you need to get checked out. You might have lost your brain cell or something."

Gerard gave him the finger. "You're lucky I can't see, or I'd kick your ass right now."

He heard Frankie suck in a breath. "You can't see?"

Okay, that was definitely panic Frank was totally failing at hiding. "Is that not normal after hitting your head?"

"Uh," said Frankie. He went quiet - Gerard could tell he was exchanging worried looks with Mikey, though. He'd seen enough of them when he was still drinking. "I don't know. We'll be there soon."

"Five minutes, guys." Ray's voice came into the room. "Hey, he's awake!"

"He can't see," Mikey told him, sounding wretched.

"Well, no." That was Bob. "He has a washcloth over his eyes."

Mikey and Frank both went very quiet.

Gerard cleared his throat. "Mikey?"

"Oh." Mikey removed the washcloth and Gerard blinked as a guilty-looking Frank swam into focus. Over his shoulder were a very amused Ray and Bob. "Sorry."

Gerard tried to find the words that would express how much of a village idiot Mikey - and Frankie, for that matter - had to be in order to let Gerard think he was going blind because Mikey was too stupid to figure out that Gerard couldn't see through toweling, but without acknowledging Gerard's own inability to tell the difference between 'blind' and 'washcloth on my face'.