I'll Be Better Tomorrow (frerard)

And We Meet Again

The plane ride back home was no different than the one to Chicago, as Frank couldn't close his eyes for more than a few seconds without getting caught up in thoughts of Gerard. It was early afternoon, Vegas time, when his plane landed, and he went straight home, with solid plans of going to the hospital and seeing Gerard the next morning. He was ready to see him again, confess how much he missed him—how much worse it would be if they were apart and Gerard was alive.

If Frank was the one dying, he would want Gerard there constantly, would want him there when he took his last breath.

He was too tired when he got home to come up with something elaborate to present to Gerard. The air in the house still felt stifling, but he could ignore it - mostly - since he knew he was going to get Gerard back. The house, and all the things in it, was both Frank's and Gerard's, shared. He pushed it to the back of his mind that he was going to lose Gerard forever, in favor of thinking about having him back in his arms.

Before going to bed, Frank wanted to change out of his tight jeans, into a warm pair of sweatpants. He wanted anything that would aid him in falling asleep. He searched through the pile of his clothes in the closet, a mess next to the organization of Gerard's clothing. After looking through the unorganized stack of clothes on the ground, Frank still hadn't found the specific pair of sweatpants he was looking for, and he was more aggravated than anything.

There was a shelving unit in front of him, which held shoes, but Frank could see there was more clothing on the top. Frank was tired, and he vaguely wondered if it was really worth it for him to be climbing to the top of the shelf, as he was. His feet were planted on the fourth shelf up, and he leaned over the top to look through the clothes up there.

He still didn't find the pair he was looking for, and he let go of the shelf with the intention of climbing back down. It was not a well-strategized move, and suddenly he was falling, back hitting the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him and causing a sharp pain to spring up in his left shoulder. He involuntarily yelped in pain, unable to breathe and feeling blinded by the intense pain. After catching his breath, he sat up, with eyes watering, and found that the pain was so bad, he couldn't move his entire left arm. He'd fallen hard, and realized the bone was probably fractured. The pain wouldn't have been that overwhelming if it wasn't.

He gulped, sitting still for a moment to get used to the pain. His vision cleared, and he put more thought into it, what to do if he had a broken shoulder. There was no problem moving his right arm, and he used it to stand up. He knew he would need to see a doctor and get it checked out at some point, but wondered if he could take his painkillers and sleep it off. By that point, he didn't even feel that tired, though, and only wanted to treat his shoulder.

The only pain medication Frank found in the bathroom cabinets was all Gerard's, but Frank was a bit afraid to take it. The pills were stronger than what he would normally buy over the counter, and he didn't quite feel comfortable taking the ones available at the moment.

The pain was only getting worse. He knew he wasn't going to fall asleep with that much pain in his body. It wasn't like it was the middle of the night; Frank's body was only telling him that it was. He made the decision to drive himself to the ER, since he didn't have a normal doctor to go to, and he didn't want to wait to make an appointment somewhere.

He knew his way to the hospital well, but didn't think about why, just started to become irritated with the fact he was going to have to get used to having a broken shoulder. He felt somewhat awkward walking into the hospital alone, a whole day earlier than he had planned. Hesitantly, he walked up to the front desk. He was kindly sent up to the third floor to wait for an x-ray.