Cancer

Seven

*mikey*

Sirens. Lights. Screaming. Crying. That's all I can hear right now. That's all I can hear, but I can't move to stop it. I feel like I'm tied down, like some heavy weight is holding me down. I try to open my eyes, but it's like they've been glued shut.

"Stop struggling, you'll only make it worse," I hear a familiar voice. Just like last time, her voice lacks any emotion and is just as cold.

"Will he be okay?" I hear another voice whisper out. I know this voice too, I think it was Pete.

"As 'okay' as someone with stage three ALL can be," she replied in her 'I know everything' voice, which was quiet nauseating.

"Thanks, doctor... What was it again?"

"Doctor Sharpe, but you can call me Kess." I wanted to gag. She's being too nice to my boyfriend .

I try to open my eyes again, but I hear one of the machines I'm hooked up to start to beep.

"Michael stop," she warned. "You need to rest for a while longer," and with that she leaves the room. This is driving me crazy. Why can't I just wake up!

I feel a cold head touch mine. I want to grab it, I want to see who it was, I want to be able to have that option.

"Mikey I'm so sorry. I know I haven't been there for you, and I've been selfish. I can promise you that as soon as you get out of here I will help as much as I can. We're all worried about you. Me, Gerard, Frank, Ray, even Bob..." He said, giggling at the end. Bob had a hard time showing he cared, but he always had your back.

"I guess what I'm saying is stay strong. And if you don't want to do it for you, do it for me,"

I felt his grip on my hand tighten. I used all the strength I could build up to make my presence known. I squeezed his hand, not very hard, but hard enough.

"Thanks, Mikey," he whispered before walking away, leaving me alone once again.

~

About an hour later I heard the door shut and somebody make their way to where I was laying. They sat down and stayed quiet for a few minutes. The silence was killing me, I needed to know who was staring at me.

"So..." The voice stated. This time I recognized it as Gerard's voice. "I owe you an explanation," I feel my heart sink. Was he going to explain the album?

"So, after you stormed out last night, I went to visit Frank. We were already talking about ideas for the album, but I wanted this one to be special," he stopped to take a breath.

"So Frank and I talked about it and decided we should do this concept album about this character called 'the patient' and his life and death. I wanted to make this album so no matter how bad this disease got, you never felt alone. I want you to feel like you can relate back to something."

Well now I feel like an asshole. All anybody wanted to do was help and I'm just pushing them away and locking myself in my own pity. If I didn't want to wake up before I sure as hell do now. For the third time today, I tried to open my eyes.

The light is so blinding that I have to close my eyes again. This time when I open them I see three blurry figures near me. I'm assuming one of them is Gerard.

"You're awake," Doctor Sharpe said, a fake smile plastered on her face. She looked down at her clipboard and tapped her pen a few times.

"You seem to have had lung failure, nothing too serious. It's a good thing your friend found you when he did though, much less damage." She started reading off a whole bunch of words I didn't understand so I just stopped listening.

I looked around at the dull room. Why do hospitals have to be so... Boring? They could at least add a little color. This one just had white walls and a lamp in the corner. There were a few black chairs parallel to the bed for visitors.

I looked back over at my boyfriend who was now arguing with the doctor.

"Can't you do anything?" Pete cried out, upset at something that I missed. "What about chemo? Doesn't that work?"

"Chemotherapy would be too risky at this stage. We can prescribe him some pills, but there's not much we can do, he's too sick,"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Just a few days ago it was simple, I would get the chemo and we would go back to being a band. But now they're saying that it's too risky?

"So if we're done here-" she started but I cut her off.

"Can I still play in the band?" I ask her. I was dying to know, and quiet literally.

"Come again?"

"My band, can I still play in it?"

"I wouldn't advise that. Too many things can go wrong. Didn't you end up here because of that band? And that's before you knew about your cancer. It's not a smart thing to do..."

"But if I go easy and don't do anything too extreme I should be fine, right? And we have medics left and right of us. It's what I want to do," I tell her, already knowing i'll carry on being in the band. She sighed before answering.

"It's your life, who am I to stop you,"

"HIS DOCTOR!" Pete shouted, looking at me like I was crazy. "Mikey, you should take a break, think this through," he tells me like he could change my mind.

"I did think this through and it's what I want, Pete. You should should support me on this." He just sighed and looked the other way. The doctor awkwardly cleared her throat and looked back at me.

"So, if nothing changes over night, you're free to go tomorrow." That's probably the best thing I've heard all day. I can finally leave this hell hole and go home.

Pretty soon everybody leaves and it's just me. It's almost midnight and everything still seems to be going fine, so it looks like I will be leaving tomorrow. I look at the ceiling and think of what's to come. At the beginning I was sure this would be quick and I'd be okay soon, but after e everything that's happened lately? I'm not too sure I will be.

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Longer update yay.

KESS IS THE OTP FOR YOU AND ME

that's about it...

And goodnight
-kess