The Anatomy Of A Gun (Frerard)

Two

I wake up. I actually wake up.

A pair of hazel eyes stare back at me, and my gaze shifts into focus. A male man is staring back at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, edged with gold, with a certain light behind them.

He's my doctor, probably, because the room I'm in smells like hospital. He looks young for the job. He sees that I'm awake, and grins. "Hey! My name is Frank, I am your doctor. You finally woke up. Is there anything I can do for you?" I just stare for a second, then something in my brain turns on and I murmur, in a slightly raspy voice, "could you bring me a glass of water?" he nods, and goes to the sink where a few cups sit.

I turn my head, watching him turn on the faucet and get the water I requested. From what I can see, he is very young.

"Frank... how long have I been asleep?" I ask, remembering he said that I had finally woken up. He falters as he brings me my requested cup of water, which I drink from thirstily.

"Just a couple of days. Not much to worry about." he says apologetically. A couple of days? All I wanted was some damn food. I've been trying so hard to eat more and now the world does this to me? Thanks.

"Alright, well, I'm kinda hungry and the reason I got in the car crash was because I wanted snacks. Do you have any food?" I ask hopefully.

"Yeah... I can get you some Doritos or something, if you want?" he asks. I just nod lightly, closing my eyes.

And then they snap open as I realize: I didn't have a dream.

Frank said it had been a couple of days, and I don't remember having a dream. Must be a fucking miracle. I smile at the white ceiling. This is the first time for so long. I hope this continues.

Frank gets back quickly with a bag of Doritos, and when he sees me something seems to snap in his mind.

"Oh... I was supposed to tell you what happened! Damn, I'm sorry, I'm new." he says quickly.

I smile and say, "It's okay. I don't really..." and then trail off because I do really know what happens when you end up in the hospital. "...mind." I finish, trying to cover up, smiling again weakly.

"Okay, well, you luckily didn't do anything much to your head, just a small cut on your forehead. Remarkable, I don't know how because it hit your windshield fairly hard. Didn't even need stitches. Your right leg, however, is broken in four places and your left arm has a nasty gash on it. We stitched up your arm already, but your leg will take a bit of time to heal. It's quite swollen. We have fixed a splint and given you painkillers, but it'll still take time." he finishes. I process this all slowly. My right leg... shit, there are probably a couple scars there. Shit... shit, shit.

"Um... were there any um... on my leg... marks..." I say awkwardly, feeling like I could trust the doctor. He's attractive. I don't want him to see that stuff...

"Yeah... I thought I would wait til you were awake to ask about if your parents know and all that stuff." he says quietly. "I know that people telling your parents things like that sucks." he adds.

"Thank you. My mom knows, I was just hoping you wouldn't suggest some bullshit therapist or anything, because therapists do not work. And the pills don't help either." I stop, realizing I have over shared far past my limit.

"It's okay. Pills and therapists don't really help me e-" he cuts himself off, looking shocked at himself.

"Shit, sorry." he mutters, and starts to walk away.

"Frank- wait. How old are you?" I ask, curious. His striking hazel eyes look back at me.

"I'm 24... it sounds exceptionally young, but I was an exceptional student." he answers, smiles, then walks away.

I already miss him. I don't know why, but I miss him.

--

I fell into a light sleep which was difficult in itself, because no matter how hard they try to numb me I'm still going to feel some pain.

Frank came back a couple times, once when he thought I was asleep, he just stared at me thoughtfully with the ghost of a smile on his face and then left. He's weird but he interests me.

"So, Gerard, you drove into a CVS, correct?" He asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah..." I say nervously, suddenly remembering that I drove my fucking car into a store.

"Do you know who it belonged to?" oh shit, what did I do? I shake my head, and he laughs.

"My dad owned it. He doesn't even care that much, he owns like, five." He rolls his eyes, while mine widen. Why does this universe so badly want attractive people to hate me?

"What?" Frank asks, confused. Oh fuck, I did not say that out loud. Oh fuck, I did.

"Uh, nothing?" I say lamely. It sounded like a question rather than a statement.

He grins. "You know, it's hard to be a doctor when your patient is hot too." I blush immensely at that. He called me hot.

"Thanks, but don't I look shitty? I haven't brushed my hair in eternity which is greasier than a McDonald's grill, I have cuts and bruises all over and people don't generally like my face even when it does look good." I say. He just stares at me, for at least a few minutes. His golden brown eyes looking me over, probably processing what I said and realizing I'm right. Probably.

"They may think you're ugly but I think you're beautiful." he finally says. I don't know what to say, but I somehow manage out the words, softly, "no one has ever told me that, not even my mother...". He looks so sad when I say that. He's still staring at me, but this time I almost feel like someone thinks I am worth looking at.

As he is staring at me, something clicks. I have (had?) dreams every night, correct? And every night I turned around to see a person shot, but all I could ever really see was their eyes. That doesn't mean I didn't remember every pair, and that every pair was a stranger's. Through this train of though, I realize something important.

His beautiful hazel eyes are the ones from my last dream.

A/N I suck, so much. I know. I haven't updated this shit since like April I am so sorry but I will try and consistently update if it matters to anyone