NIGHTMARES

“Wait, I need to go with them!”
“Are you family?”
“Well n-no, I'm their lawyer and their friend! Please-”
“Sorry Miss, only family members can ride along. Meet us at the hospital.”

THUD.

The slam of ambulance doors in her face replays through Stacey's mind as she drives as fast as legally possible towards the hospital where speeding wheels and flashing blue lights have taken Frank and Gerard. Anxious nausea curdles her stomach and her hands clench white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Pressing her cell phone to her ear with her shoulder she calls Brian twice but both times gets his voicemail. “Shit!...Er, sorry Brian, it's Stacey. Listen, Frank and Gerard were attacked tonight. They're in the hospital and it's bad. Find Mikey and call me back!”

Dirty headlamps pierce the wet night like lasers and it takes forever for Stacey to find a parking spot. When she finally runs through the Emergency Room doors clutching her purse and phone with wet shoes and hair all she can smell is antiseptic and blood and she wants to vomit from the dread and guilt choking her.

The bored-looking man at the admittance desk tells her to take a seat in the waiting room with some forms to fill out but she spies the red-haired medic from the crime scene walking back outside and desperately grabs her arm. “Hey, hi. I was at the house with all the...dead people just now in the basement. Can you tell me where my friends are? Please, I need to know if they're okay!”

Cheryl recognizes the worried lady from her last call-out and leads her quietly to a nearby trauma room where Frank is being looked after.
“I have to go now but I hope your friend pulls through,” she whispers, squeezing Stacey's trembling hand, “Give the doctors all the information you can, okay?”
Then the medic is gone and Stacey is left standing alone in a trauma room doorway with wide eyes and a racing heart. Nurses rush around with needle kits and bags of blood and the doctors are shouting complicated medical jargon that she doesn’t understand. Frank's bruised eyes are closed and his limp body looks so small and pale lying on the blood-stained bed. The nurses are cutting his clothes away with scissors while a doctor wipes down his slashed arm and inserts an I.V. Stepping cautiously into the room on wobbly legs, Stacey hears her wet sneakers squeaking on the tiles and one of the doctors – a tall Korean guy in green scrubs - glances up and sees her. “Rosie,” he calls to someone on his team, “Can you take care of the lady please?”

A a short matronly nurse wearing peach scrubs peels away from the crowd and bustles over to Stacey, laying a soft but firm hand on her arm. “Come on, hon. Let’s step outside and let the doctor do his work, hmm?”
“Okay,” Stacey mumbles numbly, checking her phone screen for messages and seeing nothing but blank pixels, “Is Frank going to be okay? Can you tell me anything?”
“As soon as I know something I'll tell you,” Nurse Rosie soothes, guiding her out into a too-bright hospital corridor, “The most helpful thing you can do for him right now is fill out an admittance form so we know all his details.”
“Alright, I'll try my best but-.”
“Does he have health insurance?”
“He...I-I guess he has whatever the record company gave him.”
“Okay. Well try to stay calm. Frank won’t be left alone I promise and we are doing everything we can to help him. What’s your name hon?”
“Stacey.”
“Okay Stacey. We've had two patients brought in from this incident, including your friend there. I don't suppose you know the second man as well?”
Stacey nods tearfully, “Yes. His name is Gerard Way a-and he's another friend. Neither of them live in California though, they're from New Jersey. I mean they only came to Los Angeles for…uh…a vacation. Their next of kin are all in Jersey. Oh my god I have to tell their parents!”
“That's okay. We can notify their families if you have contact details.”
Stacey nods again, sudden sobs escaping her lips as her eyes flood with tears. Brian still hadn't called her back and she's probably not even allowed to use a cell phone in here.
As if things couldn't get much worse, a police officer suddenly comes walking down the hall towards them and Stacey watches Rosie tense at his approach, the nurse’s blue eyes narrowing in annoyance as she folds her arms and sets her lips in a thin white line.
“Stacey Fass?” the officer asks bluntly, whipping a notepad and pen out of his belt.
“Yes.”
“I’m Officer Peters with the LAPD. I need to ask you some questions.”
“Do you have to ask them right now?” Nurse Rosie asks, arching her eyebrows accusingly at the cop.
“Well I would like to,” Peters growls, “We have several bodies on our hands here, including an officer of the law and Ms Fass here is the only witness.”
“Well you'll have to wait a few minutes,” Nurse Rosie interrupts, fixing the young officer with her stern eyes, “She needs to come with me first. Admittance forms need to be filled out and she should be medically evaluated for signs of shock.”
“Fine,” Officer Peters says gruffly, peering through the glass doors into Frank’s trauma room behind them, “But be quick. My colleagues and I will be waiting.”

Nurse Rosie nods briskly and leads Stacey away back towards the admin desk. “Sorry about that. ’ll try to keep you away from their questions until you’ve at least been allowed to see your friends.”
Leaning over the sweeping grey desk, Rosie flags down one of the desk clerks, a tall woman with a phone in one hand and a patient’s chart in the other.
“Hey Donna, has the second trauma from the basement homicide come in?”
“Yeah,” Donna answers, pressing the telephone’s mouthpiece against her shoulder as she speaks, “He's in Curtains with Dr Michaels.”
“Thanks.”
After another dash through the department Stacey finds herself in the ER’s Curtained Area surrounded by clean empty beds and long beige curtains. There are several nurses, interns and doctors hanging around and Rosie takes her straight to where an elderly nurse and a young man in a white coat are passing gloves and gauze and charts back and forth over Gerard’s bed. The young singer is awake and sitting up, wearing a hospital gown and his blood-stained jeans, but his face is mostly hidden behind a large ice pack that he’s holding against his nose and nasty purple bruises are forming around his eyes. There's dried blood on his lips and his hands are shaking. The lawyering part of Stacey's brain automatically tries to think up a good press explanation for his appearance as the old nurse smooths his black hair off his forehead and starts cleaning a deep ugly gash there so the doctor can stitch up the wound.
Gerard glances up when Stacey walks over and his tired frightened eyes relax by one or two degrees but he's obviously hurting and looks close to tears.

Nurse Rosie takes Dr Michaels aside for a quick word and Stacey steps closer to the bed, laying her fingers on the metal side-rail and squeezing it tight. “Can they give you anything for the pain?” she asks softly.
Gerard lowers the ice-pack, revealing what looks like a broken nose, and Stacey takes one of his hands in hers, wincing at his cold shivering skin, “They already did,” he mumbles hoarsely, his lips trembling, “But any m-more drugs and I'll pass out and they said I h-have to be awake. Head injuries and all that shit. Where’s Frankie? Is he okay?”
Stacey opens her mouth to reply but no words come out. She doesn’t have any answers, and Gerard’s voice is shaking with trauma and terror and she knows he’s barely holding it together right now.
“Don't worry, Frank’s being looked after,” she answers gently, “But there’s some cops hanging around now asking questions. Don't talk to them unless I'm with you, do you understand? I can handle them.”
Gerard nods and swallows hard, his eyelashes spiky and wet. “Have you called Brian?” he whispers.
“Yes. He’s probably still in Nevada with Mikey and the others but I'm sure they'll be here as soon as they can. Should I call your parents?”
“Yeah...or n-no. They'll just worry right? I guess tell them I'm okay b-but get Frank's mom here! He'll want her and h-he'll be so scared when he wakes up. I mean IF he w-wakes...”
Trailing off into a flood of thick wet sobs, Gerard bursts into tears and Stacey quickly pulls him into a motherly hug, his trembling fingers clutching helplessly at her arms as he weeps and shakes against her. The two nurses and the doctor are staring at them with a mixture of sympathy and impatience and Stacey glares back, her fear retreating into professionalism and strength. She would protect Gerard and Frank against the whole fucking world if that's what it took to keep them safe and sane tonight.
In her jacket pocket her phone is buzzing for attention. Brian and Mikey are on their way.

Notes

((Hiya, sorry this is so short, I have major writer's block atm
and work is keeping me very busy but I will never give up on this story.
Thank you for being so patient and please comment if you can.
xxx))