Ray's POV
Why does Bob have to always get injured so easily. He's always risking himself for almost anything, especially the things and people loves. That's how we've ended up here. It's always so easy for him, putting himself through all this pain, never telling anyone in fear that they'd make him stop whatever he's doing. He got burned once and almost died, he also has to have wrist braces because of an injury he got from drumming.
Where we are now is definitely not any better than any of those times, maybe even worse. I feel so guilty knowing that I'm the reason he's here, in this hospital, attached to a machine. A machine that's keeping him alive. He used to have no brain function, only a day ago, but since then, right when we were going to turn off his life support, he decided to finally have some brain function. Since that point in time, 24 hours ago, he's woken up a total of two times. I know that those are the only two times he's woken up because I haven't left his side yet. It's been a week since his body was rushed here. He ended up on life support after they attempted a surgery. It kept him alive but caused some brain damage. It hurts me knowing it could've been me in his place, him being safe away from the wounds
*
"Ray, watch out!" I heard Bob call out to me. I turned to face Bob, not comprehending the panic in his voice. I only understood why he was yelling at me when I a bullet went flying passed me.
"Come here, Ray!" Bob yells at me again. This time I understand the danger that I'm in so I run as fast as legs will carry me. By the time I get to Bob, crouching behind a couch, a few bullets have flown passed me. I know whoever has the gun wants me dead but I don't understand why and I don't know who. I'm too scared to do anything but be silent
"Pretend we've been hit, they'll probably give up if they think they have." Bob informs me through a whisper. I'm can't trust my mouth to form any words at the moment so I just nod at him. When the next round of bullets shoot passed us we both make jerky movements as if we've been hit and fall down behind the couch. Unfortunately, the person who was shooting doesn't completely give up. Instead they walk over to our bodies holding a stick. They obviously don't completely believe that we're dead. They start twirling their wooden stick around as they approach us. I'm starting to panic. They're coming closer now. I have my eyes open a tiny bit so that I can see them standing above me, raising the stick above their head and moving their arms in a strong movement to obviously force it into my skull. Everything feels like its moving in slow motion as I manage to quickly roll away from the stick's direction and picking myself up onto my feet. They continue chasing after me for a couple of seconds before they catch up. As they go to hit me again, Bob grabs the stick. I froze in fear after they caught me so I'm just sitting here watching everything happen. They fight for awhile before the guy gets Bob in the head and he ends up on the ground, unconscious. I can hear sirens coming closer in the background. The guy comes closer to me, prowling
"You're lucky this time." The person hisses in my ear as they pull me up by the collar of my shirt. They run off and I just sit there staring at Bob, still frozen in place. Eventually the police and paramedics come rushing in. The paramedics rush Bob to the hospital and leave me there with the police.
*
"Hey, Ray." Bob whispers to me in a rough voice. He hasn't been able to use it that often.
"Hey, Bobert. How are you feeling?" I ask him with a concerned tone of voice
"I'm feeling better. It's not your fault, Ray." Bob always says this same thing I me every time he's been awake
"But," I try to say but Bob cuts me off
"But nothing, Ray. It's not your fault, stop blaming yourself, no one else does." Bob says firmly to me even though he's still whispering. He goes back to sleep almost as soon as he tells me that. In alone once again. I decide to take a nap.
I wake up to the sound of Bob's monitor slowing down, eventually becoming a flat line
"Somebody help!" I start screening "Nurse!" I'm still calling out even when about five doctors and nurses come rushing in. They push me out of the room as they start fussing over him. They drag him out of the room, probably going to surgery.I'm standing in between Frank and Mikey, Gerard being on Mikey's other side. We're all holding hands waiting for the ceremony to finish. None of us can truly stand here for this long without having a break down. It's hard for us to hear the words being spoken
"Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here..." these words probably are the hardest words for me to hear. Ever since Bob died that night at the hospital I've been a lifeless shell. Mikey and Gerard keep turning up at my house with horror movies, and Frank with pasta. They all understand how hard life is without him. He was the only person I relied on when I was struggling. As the funeral comes to an end we let go of each other's hands. I reach my hand to my pocket, feeling for one of my most important items for the day. They're playing all of his favourite songs as they bury his body, everyone saying their goodbyes.
Eventually everyone leaves except for us guys, MCR, the band Bob saved. He replaced Matt in our time of need and helped us stay together.
"You alright, Ray?" Gee asks me
"I just need to say goodbye." I say quietly. Gerard nods at me and gets the others to stand and wait for me further back. I walk up to Bob's grave, the one with the freshly dug up dirt. I crouch in front of his headstone reading 'Here lies Bob Bryar, dedicated drummer and loving son, friend, and band member. In loving memory, R.I.P.' Bob would've loved that, simple and personal.
"Bob, I'm sorry I never was able to save you but there's something I never told you," I whisper while touching his headstone. I'm having trouble telling him this, even though
"I always loved you, Bob. Before you joined the band, back when you were our sound tech, even now. I will always love you." I start crying while continuing my whisper.
"I love you too much to leave you." I say, nearing the end of my speech. I reach into my pocket with my important item in it, pulling out a gun
"See you soon." I finish off pulling the gun to my head, taking one final breath, I pull the trigger.
I open m eyes to see the clinical roof of a hospital. How is this possible? I shot myself in the head.
"Ray." I hear Gerard's voice whisper. I turn my head and see them, Gerard, Frank ad Mikey. As soon as I see their tears I start crying
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I start saying repeatedly
"I can't do this, I just can't. I need to be with him. I can't live without him, he was my reason for living and he's gone. He can't leave me, he just can't." And even as I'm crying I swear I can hear Bob's voice
'I always loved you, too.'
YOU ARE READING
Survival of the Loved (Bob Bryar/Ray Toro One-Shot)
ContoProtecting people without hurting yourself is an impossible task.