frerard one shots | ✔️

day 4 ~ hospital

"Gerard, go. Frank needs you more than I do right now," Mrs Iero looked up at me from her hospital bed and I nodded, sniffing.

I'd known my best friend and boyfriend since we'd started high school, and I'd known his mother just as long. And now that she was lying in front of me in a hospital bed, her hair worn out and thin, still spread around her head, cheeks slightly rosier than yesterday, I didn't know what to do but talk to her, hold her hand. But she was right. Frank needed to be comforted more than she did. Besides, her husband was waiting outside for me to be finished talking to her.

So, I nodded and squeezed her hand once more before standing up stiffly and offering the suffering woman another smile. Her smile was warm as she looked deeply into my eyes.

"Thanks for coming here, darling," she said softly. "You've always been like a son to me, and now that you and my Frankie are together, I feel even more like you're a second son. Thanks so much for being there for my baby, and for me."

"It's my pleasure, Linda."

"Now, go, boy. Frankie needs you," she said softly, her eyes twinkling along with her cheeky smirk. She looked better now. She was almost glowing. She looked worn out; like she needed around three thousand years of sleep, but she didn't look pale and ghostly anymore. 

I smiled back softly, kissed her forehead and walked out, closing the door softly behind me. I saw Frank's dad and he stood up, coming over to hug me. I hugged him back, but he pulled away.

"Frank went to the cafeteria to get coffee. He looked distressed. I think you should go after him, son."

I nodded. "That's my intent. Thanks for telling me where he's off to."

He nodded smiling softly. "I'll be with my wife."

I walked quickly, keeping my pace in check once in a while, stopping myself from breaking out into a run. I knew Frank wasn't taking this well, and I need to see him as soon as I could, but one must not run in a hospital. That would probably end up doing more harm than good. 

So I walked quickly.

When I turned the final corner and got to the cafeteria, it was almost empty. It was around three o'clock, and most had already eaten. There were a few people sitting in it, some with their plates empty, some with their food barely touched. I spotted Frank almost immediately though, as he stood out of the harsh blue and white environment in his pitch black hoodie and jeans. I strode over to him, noticing the cup of coffee he clutched in his hands. 

"Frankie?"

He nearly jumped as he looked up at me with his swollen red eyes, and I grimaced, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He leant into my touch and then scooted down the seat, making room for me. 

"H-hey, Gee," he said shakily and I reached to hold his hand. He released his coffee labouredly and gripped my hand tightly. I let my thumb run over his knuckles and brought my other hand around his waist pulling him closer to my side. He leant into me gratefully, placing his head in the crook of my neck. 

"Hey. I just talked to her. She's looking better, she really is."

"Y-you're... you're just saying that." He hid his face deeper in my shirt. 

"I'm really not." I kissed his forehead. "She really does. She doesn't look sick anymore. She just looks tired. She's gaining back her colour and her sense of humour."

He didn't have to look up at me for me to see the hope in his eyes and in his smile.

"Really?" His voice radiated hope, positivity, yet was still so full of heavy pain. It seemed like a heavy bullet buried under his ribs, dragging him down constantly, and yet, through all of this, he still held on to some fragment of hope that she was going to make it. He was so strong, and he didn't even know it. 

I squeezed him for a moment and kissed his forehead again. "Yes, really."

He nuzzled his head into my shoulder again, and I felt his tattooed fingers release their iron grip on mine, softening into a natural hand-holding posture. 

"She told me to go to you, you know. She said you need me more than she needs me."

"Yes, but I need you in a very different way than she does. She's sick. She's suffering in one way, and medicine and people will help her. Me, I'm sick in a different way, but nothing but people will help me."

"And I'm here to be one of those people, Frankie," I said, pushing some hair out of his eyes as he raised his head to look at me.

"I know. And I can't thank you enough for everything that--"

"Hush," I said, and he chuckled darkly. "What're friends for?"

"Did you..." he looked at me, wide-eyed, but I knew he was just mocking me. "Did you just friend zone me?"

"Shut up. I can be your friend and your boyfriend," I insisted and this time his chuckle wasn't so dark. His eyes, still red and swollen, sparkled with something I hadn't seen since before his mother got put in the hospital. But then they went soft again, and his smile dropped.

"I love you, Gee," he murmured. I took his cheek in my palm and stroked it gently. 

"I love you too," I said, leaning down and kissing him softly. Then, I hesitated but asked anyway. "Do you think you're ready to see her?"

"I..." he trailed off, his eyes lowering to our tangled fingers. "I don't know. But I want to. I feel bad for what I did earlier. I rushed out of there pretty fast when I started crying--" his voice faltered-- "But... but if you say she's looking better, then... maybe. Maybe you could come with me?"

"Anything you want, sweetheart."

"O-okay, I think I'm ready, then." 

***

"She's what?" Frank looked at the nurse wildly, but his father's quiet crying that leaked out from the room only further confirmed the awful truth. 

"I'm sorry, dear. Her heart stopped just a few moments ago." The nurse's eyes were teary as well as she put her hand on Frank's shoulder. He shoved it off violently. 

"Don't."

She nodded. "The two of you are welcome to walk in for the next half hour. I'll be a call away. Just push the bright yellow button if you need me."

I nodded as she walked away. "Hey, baby?"

He looked up at me, and that's when he broke. Tears streamed down his face and he wiped them away desperately, but it seemed as though for every tear he wiped away there were ten more in its place. He buried his face in my chest, arms wrapping tightly around me, and I cried too, holding him close to my body. 

"I-I'm s-s-so lucky to h-have you, Gee," he stuttered. "M-my da-ha-had... he--"

"I know baby, shh," I comforted him, wiping my own tears away and then stroking his hair, bringing it out of his eyes. He sobbed into my chest, clawing at my back as though it would bring her back--as if his desperation would do something. 

I was desperate too. I was desperate to think of something to say or do that would make him feel better--any better. But I knew for now he needed to let the emotion out. He was ready for this. It'd been around three months since he'd had the breakdown in the hospital, and he told me that every day he would get more and more accepting of the fact that his mother really wasn't going to be okay. I was going to be there for him, and we were both going to be there for his father.

And that was what Frank needed. So for now, I held him to my chest, kissing his head and running my hands through his hair, knowing he would get better, even if it took a little extra effort.