Asleep or Dead (Frerard)

Chapter 9 (Frank's POV)

      I was sitting with Jamia when I received the call. The call that made my stomach drop so low that I could've sworn that Satan himself had said hello to it when it dipped into the deepest depths of Hell. The call that began the race known as ‘which tear can fall the fastest out of Frank's stupid fucking eye holes?’ The call that caused the shatter of my goddamn phone and the confused outrage of an understandably confused Jamia.

 “Jesus, Frank, I'm sure he's fine! Stop worrying so much!” She said, clearly exasperated and mildly annoyed. I sighed and shook my head.

 “This is important though, Jams… he could be dea-” I couldn't even finish my sentence before a lump of sadness and disbelief lodged itself in my throat, which I was unable to swallow. I broke out into a almost tortured sob, prompting Jamia to rush to my side and pull me into a hug.

 “Hey… baby shh… he'll be okay… trust me… look- I guess we can go see him… let's go.” She said, clearly taking advantage of the real concern in her voice to smother out the unenthusiasm that lay in the shallow pool of genuine emotion. My terrified brain devoured the concern ravenously, spitting out the negative emotions that it found along the way and letting them shine in all their horrific glory in front of me.

 Between my initial breakdown and an extremely long fit of hysterical sobs, Jamia had taken initiative and decided to claim the driver’s seat and made the daring choice to carry me out to the car and lay me in the backseat with all three seatbelts across as much as my body as possible so I wouldn't… y'know, fucking die.

 She stayed true to her word, even when I wasn't aware of what was happening. She could've easily pretended to go then taken us to the cinema or something, but no, she actually drove me and my body-wracking inhales and stalled exhales to the hospital to see Gerard. Applause to her.

 When we arrived, I had finally managed to calm myself down enough to make decent sense of the world around me. Jamia insisted on being with me just in case something else happened, which I was a wholehearted advocate for. I showed her down the halls and led her to Gerard (and Ray’s) room, with her trailing cautiously behind me. She was more or less beside me, but the small difference in who's shoulder was farther ahead marked that one was technically in front.

The second I had opened the door wide enough for both me and Jamia to slip through, I rushed in like a gust of unforgiving wind. I stopped when I saw Gerard hooked to more wires and tubes, along with the extra company of a few new machines. A bottle lay on his beside that contained alprazolam, which was, as far as I knew, the liquid version of Xanax. Maybe Gerard had the liquid form so it could be easily put into his system. I didn't know Gerard had anxiety, but hey, ya learn something new every day.

 Brendon walked in a few moments after Jamia and I, catching me in the middle of trying to read the tiny writing on Gerard's bottle.

 “I see you've found the alprazolam.” He said.

 “What's it for? Does he have anxiety?” I asked, gazing up at the nurse.

 “He does, but that's not what it's for… I know you were called down here- did they not tell you what exactly happened?”

 “No… they just said that there was something wrong with him.”

 “Oh… well he had some heightened brain activity, we needed to administer that to calm him down. He nearly died. ‘Musta been thinking about something important.” Brendon explained, smiling when I nodded in understanding.

 “Is he okay?” Jamia piped up, tilting her head curiously.

 “He's fine… stable.” Brendon answered. Jamia nodded and fell back into her world of silence.

 “Why did you call me instead of Gerard’s mom or brother?” Frank asked, furrowing his eyebrows once he noticed their absence.

 “They didn't answer when I called. You were the only one close enough to him that I could contact.” Brendon said with a shrug as he checked Gerard’s plethora of machines and devices. I nodded again. I recalled giving my phone number to the receptionist when I first signed in. I guessed that Brendon had me listed as an emergency contact for Gerard. That was very kind of him, I thought with a smile.

 I walked up to the side of Gerard's bed and took his hand in mine, remembering that he could feel and listen and think for himself.

 “Hey Gee… can I still call you Gee? Well… anyways… I hope you're okay. I don't know what you were thinking about that made everyone freak out… but maybe you could vent to me once you wake up. I think that sounds like a plan.” I murmured, running my thumb over the top of his limp hand. Jamia snatched my other hand in a small bout of jealousy, which I kind of understood.

 I was straight… I think so, so Jamia shouldn't worry about Gerard stealing me from her, right?

 I'm straight. I couldn't love Gerard!

 Because I'm straight… right?