The Anatomy Of A Gun (Frerard)

Three

His eyes. Frank's eyes.

He seemed to matter so much now. But shit, what do I tell him?

'Yeah, I have dreams every night where people get fucking shot in the head and usually I only see their eyes and I had them every night but after dreaming about your eyes they stopped and I've never really met the people before but now that I've met you I have no idea what it means!' I can't fucking tell him that!

Every night I want to save the people, so bad. Maybe the world is telling me to save him? He did mention something about therapists and pills, but I don't know everything. Maybe he was just trying to connect or some shit.

Anyways, I think I'm getting released soon which is bad because where am I gonna find Frank? I need to solve this and talk to him but I don't know how to do so.

I decide that the next time he comes in, I'll speak to him. I think I've got an idea...

--

"Gerard! So, your leg is healing well, you'll just have to walk on crutches for a bit. You'll get released on Thursday." Today is Tuesday. I have roughly forty eight hours to get through to him with my idea.

"Okay, that's cool... may I bring up an odd subject?" I ask. There's no way to smoothly bring up driving your car into someone's dad's building.

"Yeah, go ahead. As long as it's not sex." He laughs, and winks. That's disappointing, I'm hoping that was a joke because he's cute as hell. I give him a small smile.

"You know how I...um, crashed my car and did damages, correct? My family isn't on the best terms when it comes to money, is there any chance I could work off the payment? I would work as long as it took to pay off damage. I dunno if it's legal but that's all I've got right now." I ask nervously.

He stares for a couple seconds, then breaks into a smile. Thank god.

"I think my dad would actually like that idea, he always complains he's got too much work but he doesn't wanna pay anyone. He's cheap as shit. If he agrees to this. just follow his rules, don't get in the way, and..." he hesitates. I raise an eyebrow, signaling for him to continue.

"...and if he says anything about me or hits me or anything don't do anything." WHAT? What kind of shit happens to him if he has to tell me that? How often must that happen?

I begin to object but Frank cuts me off. "Gerard. Seriously. It's fine. If I really need help I will tell you. Maybe." he says. I just have to sigh and nod. I don't know why I am feeling this possessiveness over him but if shit happens, I swear I will run his dad over with a tank.

"When should I start? I can work with a broken leg, I just can't do too much physical activity... not like I do that anyways." I earn a chuckle from Frank. His smile is very cute.

"Since you get released in a couple days, you can start Friday. If you want." he says.

"Sure! How long are the shifts?" I technically have a party on Friday I want to go to, but I don't have to. I'd rather spend time getting to know Frank. Trying to understand my dreams.

"Well, I usually work from 8 AM to 2 PM, then take a half hour lunch break, then continue until 8 PM. But that's only on alternate weeks, which I barely managed to get since I also work here. You'll probably work that too, except Monday through Friday every week unless it complicates something important?" he says. I can do that. I'm pretty sure the party starts at 8:30 anyways.

"Sure! I just finished school so I haven't got that in the way, and I think it would be, uhm, fun to get to know you." I rush awkwardly, then smile quickly. He smiles back, at which my heart begins to race. Why does he have to be a cute boy who's eyes I saw? Why can't it have been a nice quiet girl who's store I didn't drive my car into? And ugh, I want to see him more than twice a week.

"Alright. And if you ever need help with anything, I'm here, okay? I'm not just talking about your physical health." I stare at him for a few seconds, confused, and then realize he's talking about my scars. Well, fuck. I just smile weakly and let him leave. He shouldn't feel like he needs to help me.

--Thursday--

I wait anxiously for Frank. It is 9:32 AM and he should be coming around soon. I get released today. I can't wait to get out of this sterile white building of death. Everything smells of... hospital. Even me, which sucks because I usually carry a very nice scent that has been commented on multiple times.

Anyways. My mom hasn't visited too much but today she came in and told me she was happy she would get to have me back at home. As if. She's in the cafeteria eating breakfast right now.

I tap my fingers on my leg, attempt to watch the television, and find myself staring off in random directions, but nothing is passing the time. The next time I check the clock it's only 9:41. Kill me now.

At 9:47 Frank walks in with a smile on his face. Finally!

"Well, Mr. Way," he jokes, "as you know you will be released from the hospital today. You will have to walk on crutches for roughly 10 days but other than that you will be just fine. Also, my dad is fine with the plan." he grins warily. I climb out of the hospital bed eagerly, and use the crutches leaning against the wall to keep myself steady.

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow!" I am so glad to be able to see that.

"Yeah." Frank sounds a little bit ... different. Like something is wrong but he can't admit it. He walks me down to the cafeteria in comfortable silence.

When I spot my mom, I wave to her to get her attention then turn to Frank.

"Thanks for everything." I say.

He just nods back. What is wrong with him, is he alright? I open my mouth when my mom interrupts.

"Let's leave, Gerard. I'm sure you have spent enough time here already." she says hastily.

"He'll be on crutches for ten days, which I told him." he says to my mom, then he turns to me. "See you later." is all he says, then he walks off.

"Why are you seeing him later?" my mom asks suspiciously. I sigh.

"His dad owns the place I crashed into, so I'm working there for awhile to pay off debt and stuff. " I say. My mom just shakes her head.

"At least you have a job, for once." she says. No need to be rude, jeez.

We walk out of the hospital, and to my mom's car. Shit, now that I think about it, I don't have my own car anymore. I'm gonna have to start biking places again, like when I was 14.

When we get in the car, she just stares at me intently for a couple seconds before muttering to herself, sticking the keys in the ignition and leaving the hospital. The drive home is silent. It's a cold silence, unlike the one Frank and I shared while walking from my room to the cafeteria. I don't like it.

Once we get home, I walk as quickly as I can with crutches (Jesus, how am I supposed to get up and down the stairs every day?) to my room, then collapse on the bed. All I can think to do is set an alarm for 7:15 AM, because I start tomorrow. This must be Frank's week at the hospital, because he was here all week. Wait, he was there the week before that too, right? Whatever.

I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

A/N yes yes this is shitty as hell in having major writers block kms I'm sorry please point out any mistakes thank you all