Heartbreaker Records

“Frankie, what the hell am I going to do if I lose you?” I sobbed into his hair.

His lips were blue. He wasn’t responding to anything I said. His breathing was erratic. He was dying…

I looked around the room frantically, looking for anything that might fix this. All I saw was empty orange plastic bottles… everywhere. There were so many.

If I didn’t do something quick he would fucking die in my arms. I pulled my cellphone out of my jacket pocket, surprised it wasn’t waterlogged, and dialed 9-11.
“I need an ambulance.”
I told the woman on the other end what I thought had happened, gave her the address and told her they needed to hurry. They told me to stay with him and keep checking to make sure he was still breathing. They said I should try and see if I could figure out what he took.

I pulled him out of the tub and helped him rest his head over the toilet. He made a choking sound.
“Please throw it up... Whatever you took... Please, Frankie...”
Half-digested pills, pasty liquid and stomach acid rushed out of his mouth.
“Why the fuck did you do this?” I whispered. Mostly to myself, knowing he couldn’t hear me.

I didn’t know what to do besides hold him and wait. I laced my fingers between his.
“Gee, I’m so sooooorry…” he croaked in between coughs.
“We’ll get through this, Frankie, just stay with me.” I told him softly. “Please…”
More pasty chunks spilled over his lips. His hand weakly squeezed mine.

~~~~~

The paramedics strapped him onto a stretcher. I grabbed a few of the empty orange bottles off the counter as I followed them to the ambulance. I held his hand again once we were inside the ambulance.
“Gee…” he mumbled, frowning. He opened his eyes here and there, looking around the inside of the vehicle blankly. He kept saying my name. Over and over. He was getting paler. His lips were deep blue.
I must have told him I loved him hundreds of times. I started to cry again when I realized this could be goodbye. The paramedic placed an oxygen mask over his face and continued to examine his vitals, scribbling things on a chart.

Once we got to the emergency room they wheeled him down a hall, telling me I couldn’t go with him unless I could prove we were related. They told me a doctor would come and let me know how he was doing after they pumped his stomach. I went and sat in the waiting room.
The first thing I did was dial Mikey’s number. I don’t remember what I said or what he said, but he was on his way to meet me. Panic clouded my mind. I tried to read a magazine, I tried to stare at the news. Anything.
Frank had been back in my life for such a short amount of time and I was already in a fucking emergency room. He was so much trouble. If this was his idea of “not fucking things up”, then I would have loved to know what “fucking things up” looked like.
Mikes told me to be careful but how was I supposed to be careful when Frank pulled shit like this? I was mad and confused. I fought off this voice in my head that kept telling me that he would rather die than be with me.

I cradled my head in my hands and stared at the floor for an unknown expanse of time.
After awhile I heard someone sit down beside me.
"Gerard?" Mikey said softly, resting his arm around my shoulders. "How is he?"
"I don't know... He looked really bad when I saw him last." My voice came out in a raspy tone. "What if he dies?" I whispered, not lifting my head up, tears brimmed my eyes.
"Frank's tough." Mikey said softly. "He'll get through this."
“What if he doesn’t?” I whimpered.
He paused. There was nothing he could say. He tried changing the subject, “I brought you some coffee.” I looked up. He passed me a styrofoam cup. It felt warm in my clammy fingers.
We sat in silence for a long time. Mikey held my hand delicately.
“He seemed so happy when he left my apartment… I don’t understand why he would…” I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. I sipped my coffee gently.
“When I was with you guys he seemed happier than I’ve seen him in years...I’m gonna be honest, I was kind of an asshole to him earlier…” he paused, staring into the TV playing local news, “I told him to stay away from you unless he could keep his drug use under control...”
“Why the fuck would you say something like that?” I growled.
“You don’t understand, Gee. He’s very self-destructive. You deserve someone who isn't going to disappear on you like he did. I didn’t want him to pull you into his bullshit and yet here we are in a fucking emergency room in the middle of the night…”
“Mikes, I love him, I don’t care if he-”

"Mr. Way?" a voice boomed through the room. I looked up to see a doctor standing at the end of the room with a clipboard in his hand. I got up to meet him.
"Gerard, is it?" I nodded.
"I'm Dr. Fields. Please have a seat."
I sat in the closest chair, he sat across from me, flipping through the paperwork on his clipboard.
"My understanding is that you were the one who found Frank Iero in this state. I thank you for collecting the pill bottles. We are currently trying to contact his family, any contact information you could provide would be helpful."
"I have his wife's phone number..." Mikey chimed in. He flipped his phone open and read it off to the doctor, who jotted down a few scribbles.
"How is he?" I asked, my voice breaking with fear.
"We are having difficulty stabilizing him..." the doctor said gravely. "We pumped his stomach but a large amount of the substances he took had been fully ingested. He's on a respirator and, at least at the moment, he is unresponsive to any sort of stimuli."
I felt so helpless. Tears wouldn’t even come.
“Mr. Way, I understand this must be hard. Visiting hours for the ICU do not start for quite some time, but I would be happy to escort you to his room.”
I didn’t even have to respond for the doctor to know I needed to see him. Mikey and I followed him down long hallways. I would never be able to find my way out of here on my own. Finally we reached his room.
“If the nurses give you any trouble just tell them to speak with me.” He said quietly before disappearing out the door.

Frank almost blended in with the white of the hospital blankets. His dark hair and the purple circles under his eyes were the only features that stood out. A tube trailed out of his mouth to a machine. He was hooked up to an IV, a heart monitor, and other machines I couldn’t name. Cords snaked all around him. He looked so much older. He looked fragile, like if I touched him with too much force he would shatter into a thousand pieces. I pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and gently brushed my fingers over his hand. It was cold. The world lifeless popped into my head. A sharp sob escaped my lips.
“Gerard you shouldn’t do this to yourself...” Mikey mumbled. “We should go.”
“I want to stay with him.” I said softly.
“If you’re going to stay, I’ll stay with you I guess.” He sighed and pulled a chair close to mine.
I rested my face beside his hand on the bed, stroking it gently.
“I knew it was too good to be true.” I said softly.
“Gee, no one could have predicted this...” he sighed.
The soft beeping and whirring of the machines was the only sound in the room for a long while.

~~~~~

I must have dozed off. I lifted my head up. The machines had been moved around, some were gone. The respirator was gone, the tube had been removed from his mouth. Mikey was also gone… Frank still hadn’t woken up. The sun cast a slant across the hospital bed.
“Frankie?” I whispered, hoping he could hear me. A nurse quietly wandered into the room. She pushed a button on one the machines. It made a humming noise. She scribble notes on a clipboard, smiled at me weakly and left again.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. One new text from Mikes:
“You don’t have to go in to work today, I called Bill for you. I’m at work. Call you when I’m off.”
I typed “Thanks”, hit send, and then set the phone down on a little table beside the bed.
“Frankie…” there were so many things I still needed to say. “I love you.”
I delicately held his hand. My thumb moves across his tattooed knuckles. His hand twitched, his fingers curled up weakly. He let out a long, hoarse groan.
I looked up, his beautiful eyes opened slowly.
“Gerard? What the fuck? Why am I……” he croaked, hazy from the drugs still racing through his system.

I wished I could hold him in that moment forever. I didn’t want the next 30 seconds to happen at all. I didn't want him to have to realize that we were in an ICU. I didn’t want him to have to deal with the reality that he had intentionally overdosed on his prescriptions. I wanted him to wake up to find a much nicer reality. Maybe one with me in it. Maybe one without me. Whatever was easier.

He tried to sit up, he looked like he was in immense pain.
“Shhhhhhh, don’t try to get up.” I told him.
A look of horror flashed across his face as he realized what had happened. He looked down at the IV in his arm, the oxygen monitor on his index finger.
“Gerard, I…..” he looked at me blankly, tears welling up in his eyes. I squeezed his hand gently.
“It’s okay, Frankie.” I told him softly. “You’re safe now, that's all that matters.” I gently pressed my lips against his knuckles.
“Gee, nothing is fucking okay. I almost fucking killed myself. How did anyone even--?” The heart monitor started to quicken. Beeping faster and faster. I stood up and planted a delicate kiss on his forehead.
“Shhhhhhh. Let’s just let the nurse know you’re awake now.”
“Fuck… everything hurts... It feels like someone tore my stomach out...” he gasped. He shut his eyes tightly.
I pushed the button on the railing of the hospital bed to call a nurse.

Notes

got a gushing nosebleed in the middle of the night so i am posting a chapter. : )

-saaad girl