Name Not Final (frerard killjoy au)

Chapter Eleven: Our Lady of Sorrows

She walked down the hospital corridor, dressed in a plaid schoolgirl skirt and a white blouse with a disgusting bloodred tie.

Her hair fell halfway down her back in two long ponytails, and her lips shined with an excess of lipgloss.

"Gerard," she whispered as she sat down carefully on the stool next to the bleach-blonde haired boy. The heart rate monitor next to the boy beeped lightly, a few times each second, whether to remind the doctor's the boy was alive, or to remind the boy himself to breathe, the girl didn't know. "School just ended again. I miss you a lot. Miss Jackson gave us the final test back, and for the first time in a month she said your name. I think it's because you got A in Chemistry." The girl inhaled sharply as she stared at the teen with a broken leg on the other side of the hospital ward, chatting loudly with their friends.

It seemed to spite her, the scene of the other person chatting with their friends while her only friend, Gerard, lay in coma next to her.

Maybe this was the literal meaning of so close, yet so far.

She laughed a little to herself before turning back to the boy, his white hair blending in with the bleached white pillows.

"I didn't listen too clearly to Miss Jackson though," the girl continued. "I'm pretty sure you got an A though, from the reaction of the class. They seemed to care more about you and your stuff when you're... Gone."

Her fingers brushed away the loose strand of hair in her face, wet from the sweat gathered during unwillingly attended PE lessons. As if a reflex, she reached to brush the boy's short fringe from his face too.

"They all said they miss you, Gerard. Patrick, Joe, Andy, Ryan, Brendon, Spencer, Jon, even Jamia, they all told me they miss you," she sighed, her hand reaching into the unconventional breast pocket for something. "I don't know if they mean it. I mean, I'm the only one you used to talk to. It's not like they actually knew you well." She paused again, her hand clutching a piece of folded lined paper.

"Gerard," she whispered close to the boy's ear as she placed the folded paper into the boy's hospital pajamas' pocket. "I hope you wake soon. They said... They'd unplug you if you still won't wake after a week." She took the boy's hand tightly, as if holding it a little bit loose would cause him to drift away.

Maybe, to the girl, that was what would happen if she couldn't tie the boy closely enough to the earth.

Pulling the boy's hand close to her mouth, she whispered, "You're not dead, my party poison, Gerard, Gee-boy," she clutched the boy's hand tighter. "They just want you to think that. But you're not. You're going to survive. Please, for me, at least."

And then she left him, the folded lined paper left in the unconventional hospital pajama pocket.

On the paper, hastily scrawled, were the words keep running -the phoenix witch, your lady of sorrows lynz.

***
Gerard woke up with Frank next to him.

It seemed ironic that a little more than a decade ago he lay in similar rubble and a similar sky. It seemed ironic that a little more than a decade ago it was the fall of what was humaneness and now it was the fall of inhumaneness.

"You got up from a bad dream?" the boy with the skeletal gloves, the boy on night watch, turned from playing with the occasional piece of broken glass to him.

"I guess," Gerard answered shakily. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. The note wasn't there.

So it wasn't real.

Frank scooted over and hugged him by the shoulders. "Why don't you take night watch with me? We could talk about it or stuff."

Gerard smiled as he draped the cloth they called a blanket over both their shoulders, his bare hand reaching for Frank's gloved one.

Frank took it, probably without noticing it, because it was all so natural, so perfect, a teenage couple under a starry sky, talking aimlessly about dreams.

And yet it wasn't real, this small piece of immortality under a perfect night sky. It was the flash of ice blue coldness, of bitterness and a riddle of revenge that was real.

But now, they could live in this small piece of thriving immortality, in this bubble protected by a summertime facade, and still see trust and love in each other's eyes.

(a/n: as you should notice i dont know what im actually doing lmao. Im using this as an anti stress agent so i guess therell be more frequent chapters?? Idk thanks for reading tho love yall and plz vote and shizzle!!!!! love u)