Lindsey had been recovering slowly, but steadily. Her broken leg was healing nicely and most of her surgeries were over. She was still sleeping most of the day, but the sleep was good for her. She could even spend a few hours without the oxygen mask.
It's funny how one little flaw can change everything.
"...you're coming soon?" Gerard was saying to Frankie over the phone.
"Yeah," she replied. "Ryan and Brendon wanted to meet her. They're coming with me. Hope it's okay."
"That's fine," Gerard said as he walked down the hospital corridor to get to Lindsey's room.
"Cool. We'll be there in about ten minutes."
"Alright. See ya." He hung up and pushed Lindsey's door open.
Right away he could tell something was wrong. Lindsey wasn't watching cartoons or listening to music like she usually did. Instead she was sitting up in her bed, one hand on her chest. Her heavy breathing came out as a wheeze.
"Oh– oh god," Gerard stuttered. "Lindsey–"
She shook her head. "Can't... breathe."
"No," Gerard whispered, his eyes welling up with tears. "No, no, no, no." He scanned the room for her oxygen mask. She needed it. Now.
Lindsey doubled over in pain. "Nurse," she choked out.
"I will, I will, I just need to find– here." He grabbed the mask and strapped it over her nose and mouth, flipping the switch on. "Lindsey..."
"Go!" Lindsey snapped with as much strength as she could muster.
Gerard nodded and sprinted into the hallway. Tears were blurring his vision, making it hard for him to see. "Help!" He called out in a raspy voice. No answer.
"Someone help!" He yelled again, running up and down the hall, trying to find a doctor or a nurse or even a janitor– someone needed to help Lindsey. She was dying in there.
Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. She was dying.
He stumbled to a stop, leaning against the wall. His breathing was sharp and heavy. She was dying.
Gerard slid down to the floor, burying his face in his knees as he started to cry. Lindsey was doing so well. Now he didn't even know is she would survive.
"Gerard?"
He looked up. "Frankie," he gasped, picking himself off the floor. He clapped a hand over his mouth as sobbed again.
"Gerard, what's wrong?" Frankie asked, fear and worry etched in her eyes.
Gerard shook his head. "Lindsey," he managed to say.
Frankie gaped at him, mouth moving but no words coming out. She glanced at Brendon and Ryan for help.
"I'll get a doctor," Ryan said. He hurried back down to the lobby.
Gerard wrapped his arms around Frankie's neck and continued to cry. Frankie could feel tears forming in her own eyes as she awkwardly stroked the boy's hair. "Can we see her?"
Gerard nodded, pulling away from Frankie and leading her and Brendon into the room. Lindsey was laying down now, her chest barely rising with each attempt at a breath.
"No," Gerard whimpered. His eyes started to fill up again.
Frankie was just about to say something to Lindsey when Ryan entered the room, flanked by two doctors and Lindsey's parents. Mrs. Ballato took one look at her daughter and started to cry.
Lindsey let out a shuddering cough. "Frankie..."
The latter dropped to her side. "Shhh. You need to concentrate on breathing."
Lindsey ignored her. "I have... something... for you." She coughed again. "Book bag."
"Yeah, okay, that's cool," Frankie said quickly. "Now you need to focus–"
"Get her to the ICU!" One of the doctors shouted. "Collapsed lung!" They began to wheel her bed down the hall, everybody following.
"And..." Lindsey's eyes closed. "You will not wear a dress to my funeral." Her voice, though very weak, was stronger that it had ever been since she was hit. "Do you hear me, Frank Iero?"
Frank squeezed her hand. "I hear."
Lindsey turned her head slightly, eyes still closed. "Gerard?"
The boy ran up to her side at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"
Lindsey smiled the best she could. "You still owe me twenty bucks."
Gerard laughed, the laugh quickly turning into a sob. "You–"
"Yeah," Lindsey said hoarsely. "I'm fucking dying and I still want that money."
Mr. and Mrs. Ballato pushed past the two to talk to their daughter. Gerard and Frankie fell behind, watching until Lindsey's bed turned a corner and was out of sight.
Gerard let out a sound between a whimper and a sob. He stumbled to one of the hospital chairs and sat down, eyes glassy and unfocused.
Frankie turned to Brendon and Ryan. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know this was going to happen."
"It's fine," Brendon assured her. "Go talk to Gerard. It looks like he needs some comfort."
Frankie nodded. She walked over to where Gerard was and lowered herself next to him. After a moments hesitation, she put a hand on his shoulder, her thumb rubbing small circles into his shirt. He looked up at her with sad eyes.
"She's going to be okay," Frankie told him.
"But what if she's not?" Gerard whispered, turning his body to face her. "She said it herself. She said she was–" he broke off.
Frankie was crying now. "L-look, Gee." She blinked to hold the tears, but it was no use. "I-I don't want to lie. She m-might be okay, and she might n-never b-be okay. I don't know. I just–" she paused. "I don't k-know. All we can really do is wait."
---
The doctors came back out around three in the morning, about eighteen hours since they started working in Lindsey. Gerard lifted his head off Frankie's shoulder. Brendon gave Ryan a nudge, nodding towards the doctors. Mr. and Mrs. Ballato stood up. All hoped for good news.
The first doctor, the shorter of the two, took a deep breath. "I'm terribly sorry," he started.
Frankie felt her heart drop.
"No," Gerard whispered, so quiet Frankie could barely hear him.
Mrs. Ballato faced the doctors. "Lindsey?" She asked softly.
There was a dead silence in the room. It may have lasted three seconds, it may have lasted three years. All attention was focused on the doctors.
The second doctor sighed. "She has passed."
Mrs. Ballato let out a wail. She turned to her husband as she started to sob.
Mr. Ballato pressed his lips together to contain his cries. "Can we see her?"
The doctors nodded. They led the two into the room.
Gerard blinked. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. Lindsey wasn't dead. She was just... unconscious or something. Yeah, that was it. She was unconscious.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed up. He looked over his shoulder to see Frankie. She was smiling sadly, tears cascading down her face.
Gerard was confused. Why was she crying? Lindsey hadn't died.
"Are you okay?" Frankie whispered.
"Yeah," Gerard said back. He was so badly in denial it hurt.
Frankie could see through the lie. She wrapped her arms around the boy and squeezed him into a hug.
That was when he broke. That was when realization flooded his body and as good as killed him. His best friend was gone, dead, and there was no denying it. He felt angry, so angry, at... everything. At the world. At the doctors, at the person who hit her, at the hospital, everyone.
It was no use to hold in his anger, so he let go. He cried gut-wrenching sobs, wanting to yell and scream and destroy something. But he couldn't. He was too weak and depressed to even move.
So he just cried. He cried in anger and grief and pain for a long, long time.