I'll Be Better Tomorrow (frerard)

Rice and Music

"Frank, I'm fine. We can work if you want to."

"No, no.  You seriously need to get better. Don't strain your voice."

"Stop worrying," Gerard said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You've been sick for four weeks.  A whole month.  The antibiotics did nothing for you—"

"—Yes they did.  I feel a lot better now."

Frank narrowed his eyes.  "You've just gotten used to it.  You were throwing up, like, an hour ago.  I could hear you."

Gerard looked defeated. "Fine.  Then you just work on whatever without me."  He was bitter, but Frank didn't even feel bad.  He was worried about Gerard, why he was still sick, although Frank knew Gerard was probably pushing himself more than he should be.

Frank gave Gerarda thoughtful look before heading downstairs. Gerard turned on the TV as Frank left, standing in front of it because he was too restless to sit down. Frank stood with his guitair around him, practicing some riffs. He had only played one chord when there was a crashing boom! from the floor upstairs.  He sat still and looked up, and when he heard a distressed cry of, "Frank!" he sprinted upstairs.

Gerard was on the ground, limbs bent, blinking up at the ceiling.  "Gerard?" Frank asked.  "What happened?" "The room won't stop spinning," Gerard mumbled. Frank stepped closer.  "I was so dizzy I fell."

"Can you get up?" Frank inquired slowly.  He held out his hand to help Gerard up. Gerard looked at Frank, reaching his arm up, but it was way off center. He dropped it back down again.

"I can barely see anything," he said, voice no more than a wisp of air. "Can't focus..."

Frank bent down next to him; a large bruising welt was starting to form at Gerard's hairline.  "You hit your head," Frank observed, lightly touching the wound. Gerard flinched, curling away from Frank.  "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"I hit my head on the dresser when I fell," Gerard said, grasping the handle of one of the drawers.  He began to push himself up, but Frank stopped him with a hand on the back of his head.

"Relax a bit," Frank settled. And Gerard did, letting his head rest in Frank's palm.  "Thanks," Frank simply said.  He slipped his hand down to under Gerard's shoulders, his other hand under Gerard's thighs, and heaved him into his arms.  That brought a smile to Gerard's face, though it was weak.

"What are you doing?  You're gonna drop me..." He tucked his face into Frank's chest.

"You're acting like you're going to pass out; I don't want you to collapse again."

"Where are you taking me?" Gerard asked when Frank started walking downstairs.

"To the hospital.  This is ridiculous."

<<<<<>>>>>

"Mikey, I don't know. We're not...at home," Frank said into the phone, pacing outside the hospital room where Gerard was sleeping. Mikey had called to see if Frank and Gerard would want to try and productively work on something the next day - but Frank hadn't talked to Mikey in a couple weeks, he wouldn't know that Gerard was still sick. "Maybe not tomorrow," Frank continued.  He was hesitant to tell Mikey that they'd spent hours in the hospital, were spending the night there, and the surprising amount of tests run on Gerard.

"Okay," Mikey said without question. "Miss you guys."

"We miss you too. We'll get together soon," Frank said.  He peeked into the hospital room, checking to make sure Gerard was still asleep. Frank considered for a moment, and lied, "I've gotta go. Gerard's calling me.  See you."