26| Good People

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"My tree house is on fire
and for some reason,
I smell gas on my hands."
- Twenty Øne Pilots

***

With a small thud Frans landed on the hard ground. He had made it out of the house. He actually made it out of the house. He looked around swiftly, pulling his hood closer to himself.

Frans rushed down the street, hiding his hands in his pocket from the cold. The night was rather chilly as the guy rushed down the street.

Frans hopped in the store that sold different electronic devices.
The store was rather small and lights were cold. A middle aged man glared at him from his seat behind the cashier. It didn't surprise Frans, who the hell would come to this small electronics store so late at night, looking like a troublemaker of some sort. Of course it might look like Frans wanted to stole something.

Frans went up to him and pulled his hood down, offering the man a reassuring smile, the guy held his glare.

"Uhm, I am in need of a phone that has preferably lots of free space, I was wondering do you have here something like that? The price doesn't matter."

Frans said, the man nodded and pulled out a small box with a phone, it looked rather new and fancy.
The guy who's name was Gustave, filled Frans in with the information about the phone. Such as how much pixels and data it has.
Frans gladly took it, leaving some tip to Gustave.

Hurrying down the dark street, he kept looking forwards, there was the minimum chance someone recognizing him, or maybe he was just being paranoid again.

Further he noticed the huge building towering, and with that he noticed the next big problem. How is he supposed to get in there if it's still surrounded with people at 1AM?

He wanted the stomp his foot and pull his hair in frustration. How could he be so stupid? Of course they are not going to let some random dude in the building, did he really think he could just walk in there and it'd be cool? Well, think again.

He was going to get inside, one way, or another.

He crept behind the hospital building, it was crowded as well, no surprise there. It was annoying how people always tried to get or be somewhere near celebrities. Was it a studio, hotel or even a hospital, didn't matter. What mattered was the person in there.

There was obviously no trespassing sign, but Frans cared not.
He went to pull open the metallic door, only to find it locked. He kicked it out of frustration. How hard must it be to get into a damn building?!
For awhile he walked back and forth, trying to find something that would help him get inside.
Frans was on the verge of explosion, he took deep breaths, trying to calm his angrily beating heart.

A creak of a door got his attention. Two police men walked out of the back door, laughing whole heartily. As Frans was standing exactly behind the door, they failed to notice him. He caught the door, sliding in hurriedly before they could even notice.
It was surprising how easy it is whenever someone isn't taking their job seriously.

Frans looked around, his apple green eyes adjusting with the darkness.
He was met with a small dark room, an extra exit. On his left, there were small buckets and some mops. In front of him was a metallic stair leading him upstairs. The only light there was showed him the bright green light with a sign extra exit.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to get rid of the sweat on his palms. He tried to open the door, only to find it locked. It was relieving to know he couldn't back away now.

With a sigh, he started climbing the stairs.
After stepping onto the forty fifth stair, he was met with a door that had a small window. It had led him to a corridor. The door wasn't locked and he felt like he could breathe freely again, it would've been pretty much over if he was to be stuck in this small dark place.

Not waisting any more time he pushed the door open, only to find a tall doctor staring down at him, and not the kind way either.

Before the doctor could say anything, Frans pulled his hood off, he didn't want to be thrown out, he didn't come all this way to be thrown out.

"Frans King, sir, I'm just here to visit Fredrick King, that's all."

Frans held his hand in mid air, the mans features softened. Yet he still looked professional and stiff.
Looking a bit closer, Frans noticed how young the man really looked under the stress, tiredness and sweat.
If the man would be standing straight he'd surely look like a tree. His light hair was tangled and his grey eyes were fixed on Frans.
The name tag on his chest read Mr.Dunbus.

"Well, the visiting time ended long time ago, and I'm sorry but-"

"But please, sir."

Frans zipped his bag open and pulled out his wallet.

"I'll pay you in cash!"

Mr.Dunbus slid his fingers through his messy hair, he was obviously in a dilemma.

"Look Frans -is it okay if I call you by your first name?" Frans nodded "anyways Frans, look, just because you have made your name big and worldwide doesn't mean you're more of a human than we are. And for the second, I don't want that money of yours."

Frans was ready to pounce on the man. He didn't come all this way to fail now. He was ready to start throwing threats at the mans way but he continued.

"But how did you get through those people and security is remarkable, I don't know and I guess I don't even want to know how, but that would be evil of me to throw you to the wolves now. So you can stay, just this once. Come on, I'll send you to his room."

Frans was pleasantly surprised. He respected the mans honesty and even felt a little ashamed of himself.

"You can call me John though. Not that it really matters, but still."

"Thanks John."

Frans couldn't imagine how anyone would like to work in the hospital. It looked rather terrifying, especially at night when the pale walls looked even paler and place was even quieter.

"Here it is, I'll go and register you in myself, if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask Leyla. She's the blond girl at the registration and info table."

John gestured at the door 2710.

"But I'll leave you here now, I've got somewhere to be." Before the man turned to leave, Frans stopped him.

"Wait." The man turned around, looking at Frans questionably. He felt lump in his throat, but he just had to know. The question was eating him alive.

"Are you Fred's doctor?"

"No, my uncle is."

"But do you happen to know when will he wake up?"

There was painfully long pause and Frans frantically tried to catch some kind of emotion in his grey eyes. Something to hang on to, but he couldn't understand what the doctors eyes were telling him.
John sighed and looked down. Frans' stomach dropped.

"They don't think he's ever going to wake up. And even if he does, they are not sure would he be able to move his limbs properly. I'm sorry Frans."

There were no words that could describe what kind of emotions swirled in Frans' entire being. Like a zombie, he pushed the door open and dragged his feet towards the bed that now his brother lays on.
He threw himself on the chair next to Fredrick's bed and rested his head on his hands.
A hurricane of thoughts swirled in his mind, what was he going to do when they won't let him live? What was he going to do when they kill him? Stop his heart from beating so strongly?
Would suicide be the answer? No one actually needs Frans, do they? No one actually knows Frans.

He pulled away, and with shaking fingers he touched his brothers wrist. He needed to make sure there still is a pulse.

There was.

He blinked rapidly, leaning back. This was such a mess. He noticed something poking out of his hoodies pocked and frowned.
It was the odd envelope that Marvel had attempted to throw away. How on earth had he forgotten that?

Feeling excitement struck in, he ripped the envelope in half.

Now that was confusing. He had expected some kind of bill or gun or even a love letter. But no, it was just a one way plain ticket to Hawaii.

Why had Marvel bought a ticked to Hawaii and then thrown away?

Frans put the ticked in his bag. It was not time or place to think about Marvel and the strange Hawaii ticket.

He noticed the sun was rising, making the sky a portfolio of colors. Pink, purple and red. It must've been around 3AM then.
He looked back down at his sleeping older brother.

"Wake up before they turn the monitor off, you sleepy head."

Frans whispered as he glanced back at the sunrise for a second.

Why is it always that the closest people to you are always in a hurry to leave?

***

“Take care”

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