Demolition Lovers (Frerard)

22: Quite Possibly The Most Traumatising Chapter Ever

They remained in the world's most uncomfortable silence as Pete knelt by Mikey's side, continuing to press the makeshift kind of bandage against the gash in his head, perhaps they could subdue the bleeding, but with the shallow, infrequent breaths, they both knew it was too late, but still, Pete knelt there: one hand pressed against the bandage, and one hand finding its way to Mikey's, entwining their fingers, for one last time, and as Alicia stood there, in a horrific kind of silence.

Mikey lay there for a good few minutes: strangled breaths and uncomfortable twitches, before anything happened at all. Pete remained knelt by his side in the exact same position, perhaps even breathing less than Mikey was, but of course, it was unlikely. And in much the same manner, Alicia's feet still remained glued to the floor, but she didn't share Pete's need for silence at all.

"He's not going to make it." And they both knew it, but Alicia's verbalisation was enough to snap Pete in two, but of course, once again, the two didn't seem to think at all about Mikey, and as to whether he might possibly be hearing every single word still.

"I know." Pete responded after a moment: his words forced and his breathing heavy, and most importantly, his gaze never moving from Mikey's closed eyes.

"You're just hurting yourself more by hoping that he'll be okay, there's- you don't need to try and keep him breathing and not bleeding out, because regardless, he's not going to make it, and we both know that." Alicia's words caught Pete by surprise, causing him to pull his gaze away from Mikey, and turn into wide, frightened, overly bright, teary eyes that met Alicia's in an odd mix between hopefulness and hatred. "You don't need to keep him alive and keep him hurting."

"I can't just- I can't just... leave him- I... this is my fault and this is my apology, and I'm going to hold his hand until he lets go." And Pete spoke with a kind of conviction and sincerity that Alicia had never even dreamed of before.

"It's awfully romantic, Pete, and I know- look, I hurt in the same way, I loved him too-"

"Stop using the past tense, he's not dead yet-"

"Right now, he's comatose at best, and he'll be dead soon enough, and you're just making it harder for the both of you - it doesn't have to be this hard, you can let go, Pete, and you need to, because when he does, I doubt you will too. You have to make the first move, you can't let this define you, Pete-"

"How the fuck do you suggest that I make this any easier?" Pete's tone was snappy at this point, laced with an odd kind of spite that still wasn't quite out of place in his words.

Alicia thought nothing much of it, opening her handbag and sliding the pistol across the table that separated the two of them.

"No." Pete's response was instant and he was damn fucking sure of it too, but Alicia was hesitant to back down.

"Keeping breathing is hurting him too, you know the damage to his brain the blood has caused will be unbearably painful, and that's why he's comatose: his body is shutting itself down, his body is saving him, ready to let go, because that's the safest option at this point, and you're not letting it, you're not letting him."

"It's too sudden, it's not fair, he's not ready- I'm not ready-"

Pete was crying: tears streaming down his cheeks with an utter lack of shame, and Alicia could empathise, she really could, but she'd already let go of her part of Mikey, and now it was Pete, and Pete only that was holding him down and tearing this all apart.

"Will you ever be ready?"

"No." 

"Exactly." Alicia grabbed the pistol from the table, holding it loosely in her right hand as she made her way over to Pete and Mikey, even taking the liberty of kneeling down beside Pete before she offered him the pistol once more.