Take Me From The Hospital Bed (Ferard)

a/n this is going to be a short story. I got the idea from an episode of House. If you watch that show, it's the one with the rockstar dude who blows up the bathroom and he's high or something and he goes into the children's ward. you'll probably recognize the big part i got from that



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I woke up to the putrid beeping once again. Nothing changed since yesterday. I sighed and waited for a nurse to bring me breakfast. Eventually she did. Nasty powdered eggs and discusting Ensure, strawberry flavor.

"We have a visitor coming today, Frank. Would you like to join?" they child oncologist, Karina, poked her head into my room. I shook my head "no". I wasn't in the mood to sit in a room with a bunch of little kids and have some soppy out-to-save-the-world person or high-off-their-ass douchebag try to make us forget what's wrong. "Come on, Frank. He's around your age. Besides, Delilah has been wanting to see you since her last session." I sighed again and stood up. Karina smiled and led me to where we would see this mystery person.

I sat at a table in the back of the room while the rest of the kids sat on the carpet, playing.

"Fwankie!" I heard Lilah yell. She ran over and gave me a hug. I smile and gave her a bear hug in greeting. "Are you going to talk today, Fwankie?" the five year old questioned. I just shrugged, knowing the answer was really no.

The mystery person came in the room and Lilah grapped my arm. "Come sit!" I shook my head sadly and sat her with me. "Okay," she pouted. I nodded and pointed toward the carpet to show that she could go sit if she wanted. "I'll save you a seat if you change your mind," she informed and skipped away.

I looked at the man and let what was left of my fauxhawk cover my face. He was tall--well taller than me-- wearing a dark band tee and skinny jeans. I looked at his face; he was really cute. He had gold/hazel eyes and sholder length black hair that kind of fanned out because of the way it was straightened.

He started jumping around and making all the kids laugh while I just fiddled with my fingers.

"I am Super Gerard!" he exclaimed, standing on a bench. He jumped off and landed in a crouch with a gasp. "Which one of you stole my super powers!" He looked around in fake suspicion. He started walking through the kids. "Was it you?" he asked a little boy. He shook his head in denile. "You?" he questioned a little girl named Sarah, I think. She, too, said no. The man, Gerard, I guess--who looked to be three years older than me at most--walked by me.

"You?" he asked with a small smile. I just stared at him, surprised he'd approached the teenager in the back, obviously not paying attention.

Delilah giggled. "That's Fwankie. He doesn't talk but he's too nice to take your powers." Gerard stared at me a few more seconds before continuing with his schpeal.

After a while it was lunch time, so we went back to our rooms. I was picking at my gross grean beans when the door opened. My head shot up to see Gerard entering my room. I disregarded it and nibbled a piece of chicken. I used to be a vegitarian, but the hospital won't let me. If I don't eat meat they'll tube feed me.

"Hi," he mumbled. I looked up once again. He was still here? Who would care about a fifteen year old sitting in a hospital room? I happen to know for a fact there are children in the next room with cancer.

I nodded my head in greeting and went back to eating. "Did you ever talk?" I nodded my head once. "Why did you stop?" I just glared at him. Seriously? I'm in a hospital, suffering from cancer. Why wouldn't I want to talk and be joyful? He looked guilty. "Sorry." We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoked again. "So Frankie-"

"Frank," I whispered, surprising myself. My voice was hoarse from not speaking in a year. Why had I done that?

"W-what?" he stuttered. I grabbed my dry erase board and scrawled out "FRANK"

"Frank?" he sounded confused. "Oh, your name is Frank not Frankie." I nodded. "Oh. So how old are you, Frank?" I wrote 15 on the board. "I'm 18."

"Why are you here?" I wrote and showed it to him.

He seemed a little hurt by the question but answered anyway. "A year and a half ago my brother was diagnosed with cancer. A few days before he was schedualed for chemo they discovered it was begnine." He paused. "We were so relieved, but I thought "What about everyone else? What about all the kids who have cancer and have to take chemo?" I started volunteering at the hospital Mikey had been at. We just moved here from Newark so I decided to volunteer." I nodded my head in understanding.

Gerard looked around the room awkwardly. "What do you like to do?" I showed him my iPod. "What kind of music do you listen to?" I handed him the small device and he scrolled through it. "Iron Maided. Misfits. Nice," he gave it back.

"I play guitar too," I wrote on the board.

He smiled. "I sing." I smiled back.

We talked for a while-well he talked and I wrote-for a few hours. By the time visiting hours were over, Gerard knew more about me than anyone ever had.



Gerard's P.O.V.



"I'm sorry," the nurse stated from the door. "You'll have to leave, Gerard. Visiting hours are over." I nodded and turned back to Frank.

"Bye, Frank. See you soon." Frank waved goodbye as I left with the nurse following behind.

"You got him to talk?" she questioned.

"Well. . . not talk but communicate."

"That's better than anyone's done since his mom."

"What happened to his mom?"

"Well. . . nothing happened to her but she orphaned him and moved. That's why he stays here all the time. His hospital bills are paid for by public donation."