The Taste Of Morphine ; Frerard

Five seconds ago Gerard was walking down the street, his way just barely lit by dim, flickering streetlights and the sliver of light the gradually rising sun was providing, on his way to work.

Now he was pressed against the wall of a shady looking alley covered in graffiti with someone’s hand closed around his throat, squeezing just enough to hurt but not enough to cut off his breathing. He opened his eyes, which he’d shut instinctively upon hitting the wall, and the first thing he saw were the vibrant red eyes that seemed to glow in the last minutes before the sun provided proper light. The person holding his throat was ghostly pale, like a corpse, with not even a tinge of pink to his cheeks and his canines, sharper and longer than anyone’s teeth should be, were visible, probably because they seemed to be forcing his lips to part somewhat.

Gerard could understand why though. Obviously they were too long to have his mouth entirely closed without slicing up the soft flesh of it. The sun was becoming more visible and shining more of it’s sustaining light on the shitty city, making Gerard wonder if this cosplayer was going to put on a big show of melting in the sun. To his disappointment he didn’t, instead releasing Gerard’s throat and leaving an agonisingly painful burning sensation where his hand had been before sprinting away into the darker parts of the alley. If Gerard had blinked just a second later he would’ve missed the man shifting into a bat and flying away in a surprisingly graceful manner and he could feel his jaw drop.

Holy shit.

As the man-bat-thing got farther away the burning got worse and he felt his knees buckle. As he collided with the cracked, dirty concrete the burn stopped abruptly, leaving behind nothing more than a memory in it’s wake. Once the burning had stopped Gerard became more and more aware of the fact that the side of his face was scraped up and blood was steadily dripping from his nose and a particularly large cut on his cheek that would probably leave a scar. He didn’t even think about getting up until he heard a woman speaking in a panicked tone and he tilted his head just a little to see her standing at the end of the alley, phone pressed to her ear.

“-think he’s still conscious but i’m not sure. The address? Yeah it’s-“

Fuzzy darknes started forming in Gerard’s peripheral vision and slowly creeping over, making everything hazy, like looking outside through a dirty window, and the woman’s speech was gradually growing more panicked as his consciousness slipped through his fingers. Just before he’d fully slipped into unconsciousness he heard footsteps rapidly approaching from a direction he couldn’t determine with his brain being as staticky and useless as an old television on channel with no signal.

- -

Waking up in hospitals with the scent of cleaning chemicals burning your nasal passages is never fun, and having a goddamn IV in your arm doesn’t exactly make it any better, especially if needles scare you as much as they scare Gerard, who was currently having an internal and external freak out at the sight of it taped into his arm. A nurse shuffled in with a tray of shitty hospital food in his hands and Gerard felt like gagging just from seeing it. He set it down in front of him and checked his drip before leaving again, not uttering a single word the entire time.

With a groan Gerard picked up one of the plastic utensils that had accompanied the tray of foot and prodded a suspicious smelling pile of peas with the tip of it before working up the courage to scoop some up and put it in his mouth, instantly regretting it when they assaulted his tastebuds with an unnecessary amount of fucking salt. He gagged, spitting it into one of several napkins that had been with the food and dropping it on the tray, deciding he’d eat once he was out because he was not touching that sorta runny looking meat-ish thing or the bean-like paste. Then he noticed the cup of red Jell-O and grabbed it, tearing off the foil top and grabbing a new utensil before digging in.

He was on his last bite when a doctor walked in and he paused just as he was opening his mouth to eat it, staring at the doctor and waiting for her to make a move. “Gerard Way?” The doctor asked, checking her clipboard. “Yep, that’s me. So, um, why am I here? What’s the damage?” She laughed softly at his words and began to read off of the clipboard. “You’ve sustained quite a bit of damage to your nose, a wound on your cheek that we had to stitch up, and a minor eye infection from something that got in your eyes while you were on the ground. Luckily your nose didn’t break, but it’s goiing to be swollen and painful for up to a week.”

Well, that was worse than Gerard expected. He reached up and gingerly touched his nose, instantly noticing the swellng and he pulled his hand away. “Oh.” The doctor set the clipboard down and moved to pull the IV out of Gerard’s arm, earning a sharp intake of breath from the male. “What the hell were you pumping into my veins?” He asked, staring at the spot where the IV had been. “Just an anaesthesia.” She said, putting a band-aid on the spot and covering the small hole, calming Gerard’s nerves.

Notes

I know almost nothing about hospitals so some of what’s after the ‘- -‘ mark might be innacurate as hell.