I'm Not Okay: a Ferard fanfic based on Cancer and I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

Ch. 12: Frankie pt. 2

Frankie's POV
Gerard's hesitation was almost tangible.

"Fine. Come in." Gerard sounded angry, but not as angry as before. Frankie twisted the doorknob, entered the small room, and shut it behind him with a click. Frankie's eyes found Gerard sitting on the edge of the lid of the toilet, his eyes red and puffy.

And clumps of hair all over the floor. And most of it missing on Gerard. Frankie felt the shock like a punch to the gut that left him silently gasping.

"Oh, Gerard."

"Turn away." ordered Gerard sharply. "Cause I'm awful just to see, cause all my hairs abandoned all my body. Look at me. How could you love me like this?"

"I love you," said Frankie fiercely. "I don't care if you go bald, or - or anything. Okay?"

Gerard didn't answer.

"You - you stop it." Frankie said, voice shaking. "Stop - stop acting like there's no hope. Like you're going to die."

"But I am." Gerard's voice hardened. "I'm counting down the days to go."

"Fucking stop it, stop it, stop it!" Frankie yelled. "You can't do this to yourself - or to me!"

Gerard's voice grew even colder. "Who says I can't?"

"You can't be a complete bitch just cause you're sick!" shouted Frankie. "You can't give up on yourself, or on me, which is what you're doing! I can't be around someone who's so negative, god, it's not healthy!"

Gerard flinched massively, cowering back. Frankie bit his lip; maybe he was too harsh. He could see his words had hit Gerard like a slap.

"Are you going to leave me?" Gerard asked, eyes wide and huge and scared. "Please don't leave me."

"Are you going to let the cancer win?" Frankie asked in a tone of deadly quiet.

Gerard gazed at Frankie. 

"Are you going to let the cancer win? Answer me."

Gerard's gaze never wavered, though his eyes shone with unshed tears. Frankie could see that he had given up as clearly as he could see the back of his hand.

"Well," he said, struggling against the huge lump in his throat, "you've given up. You're going to let the cancer win. You've given up on me, too. And I can't be with someone who'd give up on me." Frankie did the hardest thing he'd done in years.

He turned away.

Ignoring Gerard's outstretched, pleading hand that was trembling.

He was about to leave the bathroom when Gerard choked out, "Wait."

Frankie paused. 

"When you go..." Gerard began, coughing. Frankie was horrified to see that the there were blood splatters on his hand from coughing and it sounded like it physically hurt him to talk. "Would you...even turn to say...I don't love you like I did...yesterday?"

Stricken and forcing down a sob so hard it hurt and burned his throat, Frankie fled from the bathroom and dove under the covers in his bed, as if it would block out Gerard's awful crying.

That's when Frankie heard a loud, sickening thump.

A dark, cold pit of fear crawled in Frankie's gut. He snatched the covers aside and ran to the bathroom.

Gerard was lying facedown on the floor, curled up in small ball. His chest rose and fell shallowly.

Frankie screamed.

He screamed and screamed like the day he woke up in the hospital. He wailed, panic and nausea and sick fear tainting his mind. A doctor and nurse rushed into the room. Frankie staggered up to the doctor, clutching his stiff, white jacket.

"Help him, please, you have to...!" Frankie was incoherent, his chest heaving up and down. The doctor nodded at Frankie, murmuring something to the nurse, and quickly sidestepped him.

The nurse guided Frankie to his bed and all he could do was tear at his hair. He viciously pulled strands of it out and sobbed uncontrollably.

What if he had killed Gerard? 

No. Gerard had to survive. He had to.

The doctor emerged from the bathroom carrying Gerard's sickly skinny body. His unconcious body.

And that's when Frankie passed out.