Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

The Bureau

They'd fallen asleep again at some point.
Gerard was roused by the slow sound of Frank snoring next to him. The ghost of a smile danced across his face as he squinted blearily at his friend, shifting his position to a more comfortable one before heading back to sleep.
He lay with his eyes closed, trying to recall the dream he'd been having so he could go back to it. It was nice for once, something about a coffee shop...?

The sound of someone walking briskly down the hall caused him to crack one eye open. People generally shuffled slowly in this place, so the hurried footfalls were out of place.

As the sounds approached he inhaled sharply, his lungs tightening as a cold twinge of fear shot through him.

It was an instinctive reaction, one he'd honed after years of listening at his bedroom door to see who was coming down the hall. An adaptation to help him survive.
His mother always walked at an even pace, never bothering to avoid creaks in the wood, making just enough noise he could always hear her coming.
Mikey on the other hand made almost no noise at all. He walked on the balls of his feet everywhere he went, making him the only one who'd ever been able to sneak up on Gerard, a skill he'd loved to use for pranks as a kid.
Their father stomped. Even when he wasn't mad he walked like an elephant through the house. He'd always yelled at the boys for walking too quietly, said it wasn't how men walked. The speed at which he carried himself was always an indicator of his temper...

The steps coming down the hall now weren't nearly as loud or aggressive as his father's, yet Gerard couldn't help the flicker of fear in his chest at the heightened pace of the person walking. High speeds meant danger.

What the hell? I've got nothing to be scared of here.
Calm down, you're being stupid.
Even if somebody comes in it's not illegal to have a nap. We're not that suspicious looking...

He kept his eye on the door, pretending to be asleep as a shoe squeaked in the hall, signalling the wearer had turned abruptly.

The door Frank had left half-open was swung aside carefully, so as not to bang against the wall, revealing the source of the noise.

Vic glanced around the room, not seeing them at first. His hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been out in the wind, and the redness in his cheeks suggested he'd been running. He wasn't wearing his nurse's scrubs. Instead he sported a burgundy t-shirt, his ID badge pinned crookedly to the collar of it, and a pair of light-wash jeans, the knees of which flapped open so widely it seemed as though a bear had attacked the fabric.

He caught sight of the boys, and a quizzical look crossed his face for a moment before he shook it off.

"Gerard!" He whispered anxiously. "Wake up! Wake up it's important!"

Gerard, having realized he was still pretending to sleep, rubbed at his eyes and croaked a whispered reply back as Vic approached. "Mmph? Yeah, what's up?"

Vic paused, glancing thoughtfully at the still sleeping form of Frank for a moment before responding.

"You've gotta come with me. There's a phone call for you at the nurse's station."

"A phone call?"

Vic nodded, running a hand through his hair to flatten it out. "Yeah, I don't know much more than that. They just said to bring you." He gestured to his wardrobe, "I was on my way home but Muriel stopped me at the door and asked if I'd come get you, short staffed tonight I guess. Anyway come on, it's important."

Gerard shuffled his way out from under Frank, leaving him in a ball on the mattress. He lingered for a moment, wanting to kiss him goodbye, but Vic was still tapping his foot anxiously in the corner of the room, so he settled for squeezing his hand, whispering softly as he left, "Bye Frankie, sweet dreams."