Author Note!
Hey, so this is my story Summertime Memories. I hope you like it! Reviews and comments are encouraged :)
I do not own any of these characters, la-di-da...
Chapter One
Gerard looked up. He found himself in a dark, empty room; it wasn't a room he recognised, but he felt safe, secure. Just as he began to notice how silent everything was, there came a flashing light from behind him. A single note rang out every time the light flashed. It was a beautiful sound, like a lonesome wind chime disturbed by the breeze. Gerard stepped towards it and, as he reached out his hand to tough it, another light and another note appeared behind him. He spun around to face it, but couldn't stop turning. It was as though he was in water, floating, turning, his hair brushing against his face as the noise of the notes grew louder and more frequent. He began to notice a pattern in the music, a correlation in the notes which reminded him of a memory. He realised, and began to sing.
"You can run away with me…"
Almost as soon as it had started, the spinning stopped and he began to fall through the emptiness. He didn't try to steady himself, didn't try to stop the falling. His stomach dropped as he continued into the infinite darkness.
"Anytime you want."
Gerard's eyes flashed open. His nose was acutely aware of the synthetic smell of Alcohol Gel and air freshener. He took his head off the bed and leaned back in his chair, scanning the room. The drip had been changed and was now full again. Other than that, there were no changes he could detect, other than the lack of steam coming off his now cold coffee.
'Fuck' he said.
He got up, stretch his back, pulling his weary arms above head, and let out a groan. Gerard then walked out of the room, careful not to slam the door behind him. He slid his hands into his cardigan pockets as he made his way along the corridor towards the coffee machine. He took in the smells wafting from the individual rooms; one smelled like nappies (Gerard looked in to see a mother changing a baby), another like homemade soup. He remembered the beautifully blended tomato soup that his mom used to make for him when he felt ill or had been beaten up at school, and sighed. He finally reached the coffee machine, selected his order and waited. Nothing happened.
He was just about the repress the buttons when a podgy, middle-aged nurse walked past and said,
"Sorry hunny, machines out of order today."
"Oh, alright. Thanks." he said.
"Fuck" he thought.
He turned on his heels and headed back towards room 13318. The smell of the glorious soup had morphed together with the odours of sanitation and baby-shit.
"Is there nothing good here?" Gerard thought.
He gently opened the door to room 13318 and sidled back over to his previous slumped position on the chair. He rested his head on the back of it and rolled his head to the right. He stared at the monitor, watching the steady oscillation of the lines, the muddled confusion of numbers barely changing, hearing the dull whir of machinery and the gentle 'beep' of the monitors. As he sat there, he willed them to change their marching tune, for the monotone melody to send some signal of a change in their host's condition.
An hour passed. No change.
Gerard sighed heavily and rolled his head to the left. His eyes followed the multitude of wires from the monitors, across the floor, up to the side of the bed, over pale, motionless fingers, up a forearm. Some trailed off under the hospital gown to needles in arteries and sticky patches on the chest. He followed a thick, plastic tube over the abdomen, past the white sternum, to the mouth. It was partially open with the tube forced down the throat and taped in place across the face. Gerard stared at the lifeless lips, lips which he knew so well, had explored with his own; their usual fiery crimson was now a shadow of grey.
"Oh Frank."
Gerard stood up and walked over to the side of the bed. He perched himself on the edge and rested his head next to Frank's on the pillow, reaching out a hand to stroke his black hair with his fingers. He twirled a lock of it carelessly, as though it were a blade of grass in a field on a summers evening, all the while gazing at Frank's closed eyes, willing them to open, or at least quiver. Something.
But Frank just lay there, defiant in his stillness.
They lay that way for hours. Slowly the hustle and bustle of the hospital faded away and Gerard fell into another patchy sleep. No lights or notes this time; just he and Frank were together in the room. Frank looked like an angel, his face radiant and his hair flowing in some invisible breeze. Gerard was glad for the chance to gaze into his hazel eyes; the streaks of green were alight and flashes of cinnamon-brown cut through the other colours, like night's stars reflected on a river's surface. Gerard could see his own reflection in Frank's eyes as they turned in perfect synchronisation.
"I love you." Frank's voice was a lyrical whisper.
"I love you too. Always" Gerard leaned in to kiss him.
"Hunny?"
"Yes Frank?"
"HUNNY!?"
The screaming of Frank's voice made Gerard jump. Suddenly Frank flew backwards, closing his eyes, his terrible scream piercing the room.
"Frank, NO!"
Gerard called helplessly as Frank's voice faded into the distance. He tried to claw at the air, but found he could not move; the harder he fought, the tighter the grip on his arms. Tighter and tighter.
Gerard woke with a start to find a chubby hand on his arm, which was wrapped around Frank's waist. He looked up in alarm into the face of the nurse.
"Hunny, visiting hours are over. You have to go now."
Gerard, disorientated, slid his legs off the bed and sat there for a moment, before walking back over to the chair and grabbing his satchel. He followed the nurse out of the room and she pointed him in the direction of the ward exit.
Gerard mindlessly pushed the lift button, heard the 'ding' and walked in. On the first floor, he walked out towards the exit. Two nurses giggled as he passed them, but he did not hear. In his ritual way, Gerard hit the button on the big glass doors and glided out of the hospital.
When he finally reached his own front door, he fumbled for his key and slid it into the lock, first time. Not bothering to take off his shoes, he walked upstairs and fell face down onto his bed.
He did not cry. Tears had not come to him for weeks. He inhaled deeply, taking in every last scent from the sheets. All trace of Frank was now long gone from them. Gerard remembered how he had sat by the washer and wept when he washed the sheets for the first time since, knowing that he would no longer feel Frank there at night. It would not be the same without his sweet, sweaty, smoky smell comforting Gerard. He rolled over onto his back and let his exhaustion draw him into a deep sleep.