Words Received, 4/4
part three
A large chunk of time passes during which Patrick doesn't see Gerard. He doesn't realize it's been so long until Greta mentions him one day, and Patrick notices that, yeah, it's probably been about a week since the last time they've seen him.
Patrick decides to go back up to the Child Life area and say hey. He figure that, for once, he'll just say hi, instead of being on the brink of tears, or Greta being that way, or any negative situation being their basis for meeting at all.
He gets onto the elevator after saying hi to Greta ("Yes, yes, I'll ask him if he can play."), goes up one floor, and enters the Child Life room. This time, though, Gerard isn't right there. There are still children, plenty of them, and some other workers, too, but no Gerard. Patrick goes to leave -- maybe he's downstairs visiting kids, or something -- but another worker stops him, looking friendly enough, and asks, "Hey there, is there something I can help you with?" Their nametag reads Spencer, and even though it's not even that important to begin with, they still probably know where Gerard is.
Patrick says, "No, not really," and frowns before adding, "I was just, uh, looking for Gerard?"
"Oh, yeah, Gerard," Spencer replies. "He's actually not here right now."
"Oh?" Patrick asks.
"Yeah. He's actually at St. Anthony's Hospital right now. He should be back at some point this evening, if you'll be around."
"St. Anthony's Hospital?" Patrick asks. He bites his lip, thinking of a million reasons he could be there that still, somehow, always return to the same idea -- the Mikey idea -- which is one that better not be why he's there. He doesn't wait for a response, though, because he doesn't want to butt into things by being snoopy, because he understands how frustrating people like that can get. He just bites his lip and widens his eyes, but says before Spencer can reply, as calmly as he can, "Okay, yeah, could you have him, uh, just swing by Greta's room when he can? He knows who that is and stuff. No rush, but I--just--yeah."
Spencer tells him, starting to look more concerned, "Of course I can. Is everything all right, though? Because, even though I'm not Gerard, I might be able to help."
Patrick forces a smile and says, "No, that's all right. I just wanted to say hi. Greta wanted to see him, too. Thanks, though."
"It's no problem," Spencer replies. "I'll tell him that you stopped by."
"Thanks again." Patrick turns around and walks away, still not sure what to think.
He goes back down a floor, enters Greta's unit (Pediatric Hematology and Oncology, which has consistently proved to be the most depressing), gets to her room, and sighs when he sits down.
Greta glares and asks, "Where's Gerard?"
"Don't know," Patrick says, sparing her the limited details he was given. There's no reason to freak her out when, for all he knows, Gerard is just visiting other kids at a different hospital, or maybe has a doctor's appointment, or maybe isn't there at all. For all he knows, Spencer misheard him. He sticks with the answer he provided, which clearly doesn't satisfy Greta.
"Why not?" she presses, crossing her arms and glaring harder. "I wanted to play with him."
Patrick sighs, frustrated. "I know," he tells her. "But that isn't going to happen, right now. I can play with you, if you want."
"You're not Gerard."
"No," Patrick seethes. "I guess I'm not."
Greta says, "Just go, until you find him."
Patrick goes to reply, but his dad, who he didn't notice sitting across the room on the spare bed, tells him, "Don't bother. She's been like this all day." His tone is even more frustrated sounding than Patrick's, and it doesn't come as a surprise when he says coldly, "Just wait outside."
"But--"
"Go," his dad repeats, and the command sounds like something that would come out of Greta, more than anyone. "I'll be out when you're mom gets here." Patrick goes to state that it could very well be an hour before his mom arrives, but his dad just glares harder, and Patrick leaves, swearing under his breath along the way.
When he gets outside the room, he sits down on a bench close to the unit entrance. It's facing away from all the hospital rooms -- which is surely for the better, he figures. In fact, it's facing a fish tank, one with only five or so fish. They seem happier than he is, and it's almost taunting. He stares so long that when he finally looks away, he remembers that they're fish. Patrick knows that fish don't have any emotion, and for them to appear taunting is foolish of him to think. Still, he glares at the tank, vaguely wishing he didn't have to face any emotion, either. To be jealous of a fish, he thinks, is stupid, but at the same time, he honestly can't help it.
When the fish have made him depressed enough, and he's ready to just not have to think, he pulls his iPod out of his pocket. He slowly detangles the headphones -- it takes probably a solid three minutes -- puts them in his ears, cranking the volume up just enough to block out the sounds of the bustling hospital floor. He stares down at his shoes and doesn't bother looking up whenever someone walks by.
He stays like this for probably forty-five minutes. He goes through one and a half playlists before someone enters his peripheral vision but, instead of bustling right past him, stops. He looks up, and it's Gerard. Immediately, his stomach knots up because his face looks unusually grave and pale.
Patrick takes his headphones out and pauses his iPod before shoving them both in his pockets. When he looks back up, Gerard says, "Spencer said you were looking for me. Why are you out here? Is everything okay?" His voice sounds stressed, and Patrick instantly regrets searching him out to begin with, for having probably only made things worse.
"Yeah," Patrick replies. "Everything's fine. We just haven't seen you recently, and Greta was asking about you so I thought--I don't know. Sorry to make you come down here."
"No, no, it's cool," Gerard replies, seeming genuine. He sits down next to Patrick on the bench. He asks, sounding awkwardly conversational, "So, why are you out here?"
"Greta, uh, made me leave when I came back to the room without you," Patrick explains.
Gerard laughs, but it comes out kind of strained. He says, "Oh god, I'm sorry. You haven't been sitting here long, have you?"
"No, not at all," Patrick lies, hoping Spencer didn't provide a time for when he showed. He doesn't want to make Gerard feel worse.
"Good, good," Gerard says. He sighs -- not angrily or discontentedly, but with a hint of frustration that Patrick easily recognizes. Before he can ask what's wrong, Gerard says, "I should probably go say hi to your sister, huh?"
"Oh. Um, yeah," Patrick replies. "Definitely."
The two of them stand up and walk back toward the hospital rooms. They turn a corner and pass three rooms before they reach Greta's. Patrick hates this part -- walking back to Greta's room -- more than he's willing to admit. In the first room they pass is a kid younger than Greta, who always looks more scared in depressed. The second room has a teenager, maybe Patrick's age, or a little older. Patrick can't even imagine being a teenager with cancer; having such a better understanding of exactly how bad it is to have cancer. In the third room is another kid, about seven, and Patrick always hears about how the kid's parents are rarely around, how hardly anyone ever visits, how lonely they are.
It's just hard to watch, Patrick thinks. Indescribably hard.
They get to Greta's room though, and Patrick lets out the breath he was holding. They enter, and when Greta sees Gerard, she grins. Gerard smiles back, more timidly, and says, "Long time, no see, kiddo. How're you doing?"
Greta replies immediately, "Good! My grandma sent me these new Barbies I wanted to show you. They're--" she pauses, looks around the room for a moment before her face drops and she says, "At home."
"Well, that's okay," Gerard says, before she can start to overreact. "It looks like you still have your old Barbies here. What've the vampires been up to while I was gone?"
"Sleeping. It's their, um, hiding nation? Hibing--hider--"
"Hibernation?" Gerard provides. Greta nods rapidly and he laughs and says, "Ah, well vampires do need their sleep, huh?"
"Yes. Lots of it." Gerard nods in affirmation, taking a seat next to her after grabbing a couple of the Barbies.
He plays with Greta for a little while, until she gets tired and decides to go to sleep. Their dad has used Gerard and Patrick's presence as a defense for running to work for a little bit. Now, essentially alone with Gerard, Patrick works up enough guts to say, "So, Spencer said you were, um, at St. Anthony's hospital?"
Instantly, Gerard's face drops. He looks down and says, "Shit. Did he tell you why?" He glances at Patrick, who shakes his head, and adds, "But you probably know anyhow, huh?"
Patrick asks quietly and cautiously, "Mikey?" Gerard nods solemnly. "Fuck," Patrick says. "Is it, um--is it bad?" Gerard nods again, and Patrick can't help himself when he presses the matter even further. "I don't get it. If it's been so long and stuff, how does the cancer just randomly pop back up?"
"It hasn't, this time," Gerard says, sighing. "But once you get put on all those medications for three years, and then again when you relapse, it kills the cancer cells, sure, but it weakens everything else, too. Your bones break easier, you're more susceptible to disease. They're not sure about what's wrong with Mikes. He just--it's bad."
"Fuck," Patrick says. This time, his voice sounds as strained as Gerard's.
"Yeah," Gerard says. "Fuck."
: :
No one ever tells Greta about Mikey, and it's for the better. Patrick doesn't see why anyone would, considering that he'll be better soon, and can come back to visit again. Besides, Greta only asks about him twice, and even though she looks dejected when she's told that know one knows when he'll be able to visit again, she never questions it.
Greta gets discharged for a little over a week, and Patrick doesn't see Gerard in that time. Things at home don't change from the first time Greta came back. She still, very simply, isn't herself. And even though Patrick isn't as elated as he should be about having her back, when she gets admitted again, he has to try hard to remind himself that it's all procedural; she's still getting better.
For the first three days, Gerard doesn't show up. Patrick gets anxious, and can only sigh in relief when he shows up on the fourth. He sounds better, much better, but when Patrick asks about Mikey, who has been on his mind for too long now, Gerard's tone just isn't as pleasant.
Right now, he explains, Mikey is well. Two days ago? Absolutely terrible. The doctors thought it was something bacterial, and then they thought it was viral, but now they're not sure about anything. It is, however, attacking all of his body's systems. Gerard goes to continue, but his voice cracks over the words, and he ends up asking when school starts for Patrick, what grade he'll be in, and if he's excited.
Patrick doesn't blame him, even a little, for changing the subject.
: :
Patrick doesn't realize school is about to start until the night before. He curses under his breath, tossing a few supplies haphazardly into his old backpack before passing out for the night, already dreading the next day. He wakes up at seven, curses again, and he's not really mistaken.
School starts back up on a chilly, grey morning in early September, where the entire atmosphere is horribly uncomfortable. Patrick isn't ready, after a vacation that was far from relaxing, to have to go back to school, and to have to focus and do work and actually succeed. In the three months he had off, he disconnected from that life more than usual, and now, sitting in class after class for six hours, he leaves with a headache and an incredible urge to not have to return the next day.
He walks outside that afternoon, and it's pouring down rain. He almost curses under his breath when he remembers that he's supposed to walk home -- a solid five or so miles -- under these conditions. Before he even starts walking, though, his phone vibrates in his pocket. It's from his dad, from about thirty minutes ago. At first he panics, because he's afraid something happened with Greta, which is why he's texting, but he opens the message and is relieved when it simply reads: it's pouring down rain. gerard from the hosp said he'd pick you up but he'll be a little late. sorry.
Immediately, Patrick texts back, it's fine. He shoves his phone into his pocket and waits on the sidewalk in front of the school, not sure what kind of car he's waiting for, or if Gerard even knows where the school is. After about ten or fifteen minutes, a car pulls up in front of Patrick -- a fairly new black Honda -- and Gerard is in the driver's seat. He waves for Patrick to come in.
Patrick gets into the car, tosses his backpack next to his feet, and buckles up. Before he can say hello, Gerard says, "You're fucking soaked. I'm so sorry. I couldn't leave earlier than that, and then I got lost, and--"
"It's fine," Patrick interrupts. "Much better than having to walk home."
"But still," Gerard replies, not bothering to finish the statement.
Patrick says, "Really, it's fine. I appreciate this. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Fuck, though, I don't--how far away do you live?"
"Like, five or six miles," Patrick says, adding as an afterthought, "Over in Mansfield."
"Fuck," Gerard repeats. He pauses and frowns at the steering wheel before he says, "You're totally allowed to say no to this, but St. Anthony's hospital is on the way there, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Patrick says. He asks, before Gerard can, "Mikey?"
Gerard nods and says, "I've got to go back to the hospital after this -- the children's hospital. And Mikey, like, might want the company, anyhow. And then, if you wanted, I could bring you downtown. I told you, though, please don't be afraid to say no, because I would never make you--"
"Of course we can go," Patrick says. Gerard stops at a red light and looks at Patrick, who nods a few times, and insists as sincerely as he can, "I don't mind. Really."
"All right," Gerard says. He abruptly makes a right turn that may or may not have been legal, before trying to make small-talk. "Today was your first day of school, right?" he asks. When Patrick nods, he continues, "How'd it go?"
"Good," Patrick lies.
"Very good. Are you planning on telling your teachers this year about Greta?"
"I'm not really sure," Patrick says, even though by that he means no. Maybe he would if Greta were doing worse, but she's not. She's better than she had been last school year, when she was diagnosed. That was why Patrick failed, right? So, there should be no reason for them to know now, when Greta won't get in the way like that again.
"You should," Gerard says. "Maybe not all of them, but the ones that matter. Don't gamble with your education, man." Gerard pauses and frowns before admitting, "Here I go sounding like a fucking guidance counselor all over again."
Patrick laughs and says, "Just a little."
"Maybe I should try some of that reverse psychology shit or something. Patrick: I encourage you to do drugs, drink, and fail all your classes."
"With pleasure--I mean, fuck you. Do I have to?"
"Absolutely," Gerard says.
"Way to ruin all the fun in life," Patrick says, and they both laugh.
When the two of them arrive at the hospital, the situation's mood is quick to change to something more somber. Patrick follows Gerard down the halls, up the elevator, and to Mikey's hospital room. It feels different compared to when he visits Greta. He's more anxious, more nervous, almost like the first day he had to visit her, or how Brendon probably felt when he visited her. Part if it has to be because he doesn't know Mikey well. He's afraid he's intruding, afraid he'll get kicked out.
When they get to the room, Mikey looks at Patrick and then Gerard and sighs. Patrick knows he's unwelcome -- he knows it. He turns around to leave the room when he hears a voice, too quiet to be Gerard's but not immediately recognizable as Mikey's say, "Hey, whoa, get back in here." Right away, his nerves getting worse, Patrick obliges.
It was definitely Mikey talking, he realizes. Walking back in and getting a good look at him, Patrick realizes how visibly different Mikey looks. He's much more frail looking, he's extremely pale, and there are bags underneath his eyes. And even though he has his hair and is still Mikey, he looks like a cancer patient in a way that Patrick couldn't have anticipated.
Patrick does what he can not to gape. "Um, hey," he says, waving apologetically. "I didn't know whether or not you minded me in here and--"
"Of course I don't mind," Mikey says.
"Hey," Gerard says quickly, "I forgot to grab a coffee on my way in. Cool if I go grab a cup real quick?"
"'Course it is," Milkey says. Gerard quickly says thanks before distractedly shuffling out of the room.
"Here, come over here," Mikey says once Gerard is out of earshot, gesturing toward a chair near him. When Patrick walks over and sits down, he continues, "I'ma have to make this quick because Gerard is an impatient motherfucker." Patrick laughs. Mikey goes to continue, but ends up waiting a moment. He eventually says, "I need you to sort of, uh, do me a favor."
"Sure," Patrick says, feeling eerily nervous; Mikey's face is quite grave. He sits down in the chair and waits for him to speak.
When he does, Patrick wishes more than anything that he hadn't. He says like it means nothing, "I'm going to--I, uh. I'm going to die, Patrick."
"What?" Patrick asks. His voice cracks. "What? No. You--no."
"Yes," Mikey says, finally sounding a little more scared and vulnerable, but still very sincere. He adds, "Soon," like Patrick needed the clarification. Patrick doesn't say anything though, because he knows that if he even tries to, he'll end up crying. He wants to know why, to know when -- exactly when -- and why they can't reverse it and why he's even being told this anyhow. Mikey says, not immediately answering any of his questions, "Gerard."
Patrick quickly presses for more information, asking, "What about him?" His voice cracks over the words, but Patrick isn't sure that it was audible, anyhow.
"He's in denial," Mikey says. "It's not, like--I'm not surprised. We're very close. When I relapsed, things got a bit fucked up with him. When I--when this happens, I don't want that happening again."
"Of course not," Patrick quietly says.
"We don't have much family around here, and even if we did, the fuckers could never set him straight." His voice cracks again and Patrick does everything he can to suppress a sob. "He respects you. And Greta, and all those kids down there. He thinks you guys are stronger than he was--I'm not really sure. I just--I just want to know someone is keeping an eye on him or whatever. I know it's probably pointless; he'll probably be fine, you know? I Just--I worry." Patrick nods and Mikey says, "That's all I need."
"Okay," Patrick replies. "I can do that. I--fuck, I promise, okay?"
"Okay," Mikey says, right as Gerard walks in, holding a styrofoam cup of coffee. Mikey says hi and, looking at Patrick who's probably miserable looking, and then Gerard, who will probably catch on quick, says, "You guys should get back downtown, huh?"
"I've barely said hi!" Gerard says. His cheerfulness feels out of place.
"You were here all day yesterday, and knowing you, you'll be back after work," Mikey says, also sounding strangely calm. "I'm going to sleep, anyhow."
"But--" Gerard says, getting cut off by Mikey.
"Goodbye," he insists. "It was good seeing you, Patrick. Say hi to Greta."
"Will do," Patrick replies. He stands up and looks at Mikey, who looks at back at Patrick and nods thanks. Patrick nods back and waits for Gerard to finish up while he does everything he can still not to cry.
They leave within three minutes of that, and Patrick requests, trying to sound as composed as he can, to just be brought home. He knows that Gerard can sense that there's something wrong, but is probably not pressing the matter for both their own good. Patrick gets inside, goes to his room, and sits on his bed, waiting to have to cry.
He never really does, because he feels sort of hollow. He stares at his ceiling, waiting to have to cry, but his mind is so foggy and stressed and the news is so new to him that he can't process it all. He gets up about an hour later, grabs his backpack, and does his first homework assignments of the year, feeling all the more inclined to never go to school again.
: :
The next day at school, Patrick forces himself to talk to one of his teachers. It's only one, but it's a start, he thinks. It's also because he couldn't finish his homework assignment. After doing a lot of it at home last night, he went to the hospital with the intentions of finishing it, forgot it, and went back home. Still fairly depressed, he passed right out and only on his way to school did he realize how much he had fucked up.
His teacher gives him one of those looks -- the disappointed kind that only the delinquents get for being stupid enough to forget the first day's homework.
He goes over to her desk after class and, stumbling over the words, apologizes. He says, "My sister. She--uh, she has cancer," and there are those words again -- "She has cancer". They still are foreign to say, even after four months, because he never says it. He clenches his fists and forces himself to ignore the feeling in order to continue. "And I was at the hospital last night and I couldn't finish my homework and--I know it's a lame excuse and I won't let it happen again." He bites his lip.
His teacher is more than gracious with him. She says that, today, it will be excused. She thanks him, sends her best wishes to his sister and family, and gives him a late note to go to his next class. He leaves the room, clutching the note in his hand, and even though it was uncomfortable telling her about Greta, he understands that it's for the better.
When he gets to his next class, he quickly hands his late note to his teacher, who looks less than pleased, sits down and, with everything that's going on right now, sighs.
Brendon, Patrick realizes, is sitting on the other side of the room, shooting him a look and mouthing, "What's wrong?"
Patrick shakes his head and mouths back, "Nothing."
At the end of class, Brendon presses the matter again, just like when Greta was first diagnosed, but this time, Patrick doesn't feed him any details. It just doesn't seem right.
After school, he gets home, and sits on his bed, and does everything he can not to cry. He doesn't, not this time, but he knows it's only a matter of time.
: :
For three days -- three very, very long days -- Patrick doesn't know what to do with his life. He goes to school, he comes home, he does his homework, visits Greta, gets home, goes to bed. It feels like when she was first diagnosed with cancer. For three days, his life is on autopilot, and he has to try hard to focus, to get anything done. Greta herself is getting better every day and on the verge of being discharged again. They just need her counts to go up. Give it a week, they say, and she should be back home for probably the longest period of time yet.
Patrick should be happy, but he's not, because he can't stop thinking about what Mikey told him. When three days pass, he likes to assume the conversation they had was just a dream, and that Mikey will be back up and visiting Greta and living his life again in no time. After three days, it starts to feel easier, but then on the fourth day, at the hospital with Greta, Gerard shows up.
Honestly, he shouldn't have, because his face is extremely grim and Patrick knows why. Gerard confirms Patrick's suspicions after a moment, muttering, "Mikey--uh. Two nights ago." Immediately, Patrick's chest clenches, and he shuts his eyes tight and he sighs and he doesn't know what to do.
The fourth time Patrick cries -- really cries, that is -- is now, when he finds out that Mikey has died. He's sitting down next to Greta and feels like the shittiest person in the world when he lets out a choked sob. She looks at him instantly, very concerned, and asks, "What's wrong?" with an innocent tone. He doesn't reply.
He shakes his head a couple of times, looks at Gerard, and says, "I'm so sorry." Gerard just sort of nods, and sits down in a chair near the door. The room is fairly dark, because Patrick and Greta had just been watching movies and never bothered turning the lights on once the sun set. There's one light on, keeping the room dimly lit, and making the moment feel even more depressing.
Greta, she looks at Gerard, then Patrick, and asks, "What's wrong? 'Trick, what's wrong with Mikey?" Patrick looks up from the ground at Greta, who's patiently waiting for an answer. Patrick, who's still trying no to cry harder, looks back down. He can't bring himself to reply. After a moment, Greta asks fairly intuitively, "Did Mikey die?" Patrick doesn't know how she came to this conclusion -- maybe because she's too smart for her age and understands the tension in the room, or Gerard told her Mikey was sick one day when he wasn't there. Either way, he can only nod from where he's sitting. He doesn't look up right away, but he can hear Greta crying, and he knows he has to.
At some point -- don't ask Patrick how, because he doesn't exactly know -- Patrick ends up sitting in the hospital bed with Greta in his lip, like the day she was readmitted. Only this time, they're both crying. Gerard, from the other end of the room, looks like he could be crying too. Patrick takes a couple of deep breaths and works to cheer Greta up, because he knows this isn't good for her.
"Mikey, he--he's in a better place now, Greta," he insists, rubbing her back while she hiccups a couple of times. "He wouldn't want to see you this upset, would he?"
"No," Greta says, turning around to look at Patrick. "Right?"
"Right," Patrick replies. "Exactly."
"So I should be happy? For Mikey?" she asks again, furrowing her eyebrows and sniffling a couple of times. Patrick takes a deep breath and nods.
"Yes," he tells her. "He would like that, I bet." Greta looks from Patrick to Gerard, who's still sitting down, staring at the floor before glancing up at Patrick and her and then glancing back down again after almost visibly cringing. Patrick gets it. He looks at Greta again and bites his lip before whispering to her, "You know, I bet Mikey would want Gerard to be happy, too. Why don't you go make Gerard happy?"
Greta looks up at Patrick and nods several times. She carefully climbs out of bed, putting little effort into dragging her IV pole behind her while she pads over to where Gerard is sitting. He looks up at her and she tries once or twice to climb onto his lap before she sighs frustratedly and allows him to give her a hand and pick her up. Politely, she says, "Thank you," adjusts herself, and looks up at him again. She declares, "Mikey is in a better place now," and hugs Gerard tightly. She allows Gerard to hug back before she lets go and continues, "It's like Sparkles. Even though she got turned into a vampire, and couldn't be with Glitter anymore since he's a zombie, you know? Even though she couldn't be with him, they still loved each other. Just pretend he's a vampire, you know? But not the kind you eat, okay? The nice kind. The best friend kind."
By the time she's finished with simile, Gerard is still crying, but he's laughing too, which makes Greta grin. He says, "That's a good way to put it," and hugs Greta again.
Patrick looks at the scene and faintly smiles himself. He thinks about how ironic it is that of all the people to have handled this the best is Greta. He thinks about it. He just mopes a lot. He worries about Greta a lot and complains a lot and has issues with every aspect of her cancer. His mom gets depressed, shuts herself in her room a lot, and Patrick doesn't know if a day has passed since the treatment has begun where she hasn't cried. It's like he never sees his dad, because he tries to act busy, even though it's his way of hiding his own worries. He works overtime and goes out with friends and some nights stays at work until twelve or one, just to create a delay. If there's something wrong with Greta, he tries to push the news as far away as long as possible.
And Greta takes it the best of all, even though she's the one who should feel worst. She has cancer, he thinks. She should be worse, she should hurt worse than everyone else, but really, Patrick thinks she doesn't. In the long run, she laughs more than everyone else, and Patrick thinks there have been more days where she's consoling him, than vice versa. ("'Trick, 'Trick, it's a big needle, but they make me really sleepy, and I don't feel it. It's not that bad, I promise. Cheer up!")
She gets upset sometimes, sure, but compared to everyone else, it doesn't really compare.
Patrick thinks this is a good quality. He's even a little jealous of it. He looks at Greta and Gerard again. Still, Greta is rambling on about something else, still reminding Gerard now and again, when he starts to look upset, that he doesn't have to worry, because things will work out all right. He wants to ask if that's really the case -- if things really will end up okay, but he knows there's no point, because Greta's answer would be simple: of course they'll be okay; you just have to be optimistic.
He knows, very much so, that things right now aren't ideal. He knows that there's still a long way to go before life is normal again, even if he wishes that Greta was back to normal and Mikey was still alive and none of this happened to begin with. He knows things suck, and his chest is still clenching and he's still on the verge of tears. But, listening to Greta, he likes to think that maybe things will work out for the better.
~the end~
part one