My Way Home Is Through You (Frerard)

Chapter 35

Every time I was able to go and see Frank the next day - I was on a different ward - he was out sleep, I would just sit with him and talk pointlessly, ramble on tell him anything and everything hoping if he heard me he would smile. Just as I expected I was perfectly fine, able to be released and everything, much before him, only two days later, unlike Frank who was still in the ICU. I didn't go home when I was released, just to Frank's room, finiding him sleeping virtually twenty four seven, only maintaining a conversation for twenty or minutes or so. Clearly his healing process was unbelievably slow, as he was still weak, not walking and talking quietly with a raspy voice, although I could see he was improving, his body was warmer, his skin wasn't so pale and he could move a little better.

My final reassurance that he was okay was when he was released from the ICU four days after the operation, he wasn't released from hospital, just moved ward, to the floor above. Kyle visited every day after school, him and Frank no longer having tension as he clearly no longer fear Frank's condition, showing even he knew Frank was getting better. Kyle would stay for a few hours, before I would take him home to do homework and get clothes, I tried to stay at home, Kyle and I so I could take him to school, but both he and Hannah refused, forcing me to stay with Frank. Both Hannah and Kyle seemed more than happy with this arrangement, both - along with Jamie and Mike - perfectly happy with Kyle staying at the Fuentes', if they were happy, I couldn't say I wasn't, I was.

Frank seemed to be very very slowly, gradually improving, talking a little easier and a little more everyday, moving better and staying awake longer, it was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, tons of fear just disapearing, knowing Frank was okay. By okay of course he was still very sick, he was clearly not 'okay' but he wasn't at a deathly pale, dead looking point any more, not at a point where his heart rate just wouldn't stay the same and certainly not at a point where I was sat at his bed holding his hand as he slept, wondering if he would ever wake up again or if he would die in his sleep.

He was okay in that he was alive. Nothing too bad anymore, he would sit up, he would talk, he would be able to kiss me without having to ask me to kiss him - although I did still try to go easy because he was still very fragile and rather sick. The doctors were much calmer, much to my surprise, when Frank refused to let me get off the bed, they gave up trying, even letting Frank sleep with me, no matter what I tried to convince him. It made him happy, I couldn't deny that I didn't mind and I couldn't deny that he seemed to have mentally brought himself to look at my chest and automatically think 'pillow', because the pillows were pointless, even at home. Him sleeping on me wasn't the problem, there wasn't really a problem, I guess I just feared hospitals a little and I didn't want anything else to go wrong, I wanted everything better.

Actually one thing I did want was I wanted to tell him, tell him, what had happened and something very important Hannah had told me because, we needed to tall about those things and he needed to know. I hadn't told him about the transplant, or exactly what had happened, nor what had happened with Kyle or what Hannah had told me, they were all important and touching subjects and in my opinion, he hadn't been ready for them yet. So far, he had still been a little out of it, or not quite himself, more tired and weaker than his usual self, only seventy percent aware, these were those things he needed to be listened to with one hundred percent awareness, which he was eventually at.

"Wh-when can I go home Gee." Frank asked trailing his hands aimlessly over my jumper, tracing the logo on it, before looking up at me with hopeful and childlike eyes.

"Soon sugar, very soon I promise." I smiled back linking my fingers with one of his hands, my other hand rested gently on his waist as he hugged me, his head on my shoulder.

"I want to go home." He whispered moving his legs around under the white sheet, weaving them around mine, pulling my trouser leg up a little, making me feel how cold his legs were. Widening my legs a little for him, he grinned slightly, lifting himself up and sitting between my legs on his side, his arms around me, his head over my heart. "You're warm." He smiled nuzzling his face into my chest and tucking his legs up a little, keeping himself warm.