"I still remember the burning image of him, it- it looked like he'd curled up into a ball. There were-" he falters, "there were pills everywhere. Painkillers, and whatever the fuck else the doctors had given him..."
-
"Fuck!" Frank cried out, in a fit of horrific pain. He was currently doubled over in Gerard and Frank's bathroom in utter agony. He grits his teeth, groaning and crying out once again. He was sobbing, in blinding pain, and Gerard had all the way downtown to speak today. He reaches for whatever pills were around on the counter and just takes some of all of them. Too much of all of them. All he wanted and all he could think about was he wanted the pain to fucking stop. He can't think clearly, and taking anything that would alleviate it seemed the only logical thing to do, especially since his phone was in the other room and he couldn't move off the floor after he'd fallen to his knees. It still won't stop, and he's finished 2 pill bottles already. Less than 10 minutes later, Frank is lying lifeless on the floor.
-
Gerard's jaw dropped at the sight of his limp husband. He immediately ran to Frank, and there was not a chance in hell he was alive. Gerard was screaming at him to wake up, Frank's head in his lap.
"Frank wake the fuck up, please! I love you so fucking much, Frank please." He kept repeating, sobbing into Frank's hair. By the time the ambulance arrived Gerard was a sniffling shaky wreck. Everything up until the funeral is a blur.
YOU ARE READING
stomachaches
أدب الهواةall my stories involve frerard and someone dying apparently. gerard is, in essence, a motivational speaker, and his whole speech and dynamic changes after he loses frank. but there's a kind of happy ending so
