The lost son ~John Frusciante and Josh Klinghoffer

14. Nodding and melting and fading away

I've stepped out of the rehab clinic to be greeted by all of my friends.
Lilly threw her arms around me and gave me a long kiss. Then, my bandmates from Dot Hacker congratulated me.
I've finished a monthly treatment program and it opened my eyes. I didn't want to follow that patch. I saw people with huge abscesses from shooting up and it reminded me of John's scars.

I was proud of myself that I didn't need his help. I've checked into rehab by myself, a month after he left me that evening. It was my own decision to become clean and now we were going to Flea's house to celebrate.

- How was it, Josh?

- Great. I had my own spacious room, bathroom and little kitchen. The therapy helped me to forget about how John had hurt me.

- I'm so proud of you, boy. Now we are all sober and ready to play. Well, at least now, because I've bought like a hundred cans of beer to celebrate.

*

A few months passed by and I was doing great.
We've been doing a little tour around the USA. Fans have been more than great to me. I've been giving more and more autographs. Nobody ever spoke about John. They understood it was his decision to quit.
Not so long after his marriage, I've read that he's getting divorced. The magazine said that the reason was he couldn't have kids.
I was right, I told him that it will happen. If she couldn't have his money, she would leave him.
The newspaper also said that Nicole wanted his house and 75 000 dollars a month.
It made me quite sad. Thanks to the therapy, I had managed to forgive him and accept the loss. I imagined he must have been not doing very well lately. But there was nothing I could do. It was his decision.

We were sitting in Flea's hotel room and watching cartoons. The concert has finished a few hours ago and we were too exhausted to party.
Chad was telling a joke while a phone rang. Flea picked it up and didn't say a word. His face went pale. He looked me in the eyes and put the phone down.

- John is dying.

He managed to say between sobs.

- What?

I couldn't believe it.

- He's overdosed. He needs blood transfusion. The hospital has contacted our hotel.

- I'm going there. I'm his son, I might have the same blood type.

- I'm going with you.

Flea said and we quickly ran out of the room.

*

The nurse has checked my blood type and it was the right one. I donated my blood and after half an hour I was able to leave the room and meet Flea.

- Where is he?

- Josh, they didn't let me in. He's in the ICU. I saw him through the glass doors and I don't want you to go there. You can't see him like this.

- What do you mean, by saying like this?

- He's got many tubes and IVs. He looks like a fucking skeleton. I feel guilty. I didn't even call him to ask how was he doing.

- Neither did I. I need to see him. I can't let him die. I regret everything, I want to fix it. I should have accepted his decisions, why did I even leave that night! I'm an idiot...

- Josh, he will be fine. You'll have plenty of time to discuss it.

- I hope so.

We sat next to ICUs door and saw those nurses running in and out.