We'll Be Okay (MCR x Reader)

Frank

A/N

Trigger warning: mentions of self-harm. 

Frank POV

It was later that day that I met her. 

I was six, finally a first grader, and we were at recess. I slid down the big slide like the older kids, but flew off at the very bottom and scraped my knee.

"Oh, are you okay?" A young girl asked. I felt cool having an older kid talk to me.

"I-I cut m-my knee." I whimpered as it bled. She walked closer to me and held her hand out, which I grabbed.

"What's your name?" She put my arm around her shoulders and helped me to the nurse's office.

"I'm Frank. What's your name?" She smiled and looked over at me.

"I'm Y/N." 

We waddled into the nurse's office and she helped me sit down. We didn't wait that long for the nurse to come over, but we still managed to hold a bit of a conversation while we did wait. She told me how her and her family had just moved here, so she's new here.

"What can I help you with?" The friendly nurse questioned us.

"My friend Frank fell and cut his knee." Y/N told her. 

Friend. We're friends.

I was sort of the outcast when I was younger, so her calling me her friend only a few minutes after we met really made me happy. Ecstatic. I'd never had a friend before, except for Mikey, but he was super shy.

From then on, we were basically each other's nurses. 

"Did you fall again?" She asked me as I laid on the ground, holding my knee. We were a little older now, I was eight, she was nine.

"Yeah. Stupid slide." I grumbled. She crouched down next to me and pulled some stuff out of her pocket.

"You fall a lot, so I started bringing band-aids to recess so we don't have to go to the nurse every time."  She grinned at me, then pulled my hand away from my knee. She wiped the blood away with her sleeve, which I still find kind of gross, then put the band-aid over the cut. "There! All better."

"You have blood on your sleeve now though." My face contorted in disgust. She just chuckled and stood back up.

"It'll wash out."

It wasn't always me getting hurt though, I promise!

I was twelve, she was thirteen. We had been at the park by my house when she hit her head really hard off of a pole. Don't ask me how, she doesn't even know how.

"C'mon, my house is really close, I'll get you some ice." She was a little dizzy from the impact, so I had to support most of her weight. 

When we got to my house, I sat her down on the couch and went to the kitchen to grab an ice pack and some water, along with a couple Tylenol.

"Here, take these, and I have an ice pack." I handed her the water and pills, then gently placed the ice pack on the slowly-forming bruise.

"Thanks, Frank." She smiled up at me. She still seemed a little out of it, but she was okay after that.

There were some really hard times too. Times we vowed to never tell a soul.

I was sitting on my couch in my pajamas when the house phone began ringing. I was the only one home, now being fourteen, so I got up to answer it.

"Hello?" There was no answer for a couple seconds, just quiet sobbing. "Hello?"

"Frank, I need you to come over here right now. No one is home, so you'll have to use the key in the flower pot. Come straight upstairs." She seemed so sad and so scared.

"I'll be right over." I hung up the phone and didn't even bother changing. I slid on some shoes and bolted out of my house, straight towards her house. When I got there, I did as she said, and unlocked the door.

I ran upstairs to her room, which I had been in a few times when we'd hang out, and the sight instantly made me start crying. She was laying on the floor sobbing, cuts lined up her left arm, and there was blood everywhere.

"Y/N/N, no. No, no, no. I'm here, I'm here." I said as I held her still sobbing body. "C'mon, baby, let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

I helped her up, still cautious of her left arm. I picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. She hid her face in my chest and continued to cry.

"I'm going to set you on the counter, okay?" She nodded into my chest, so I set her down and began getting everything I needed out. 

I got a wash cloth and dampened it so I could wipe all of the blood away and assess the damage. Luckily, she didn't need stitches. I then cleaned the wounds and wrapped it when I was finished. I was still crying the entire time.

"Talk to me, babe, what's wrong?" I asked as I pulled her into me.

"I don't know why I did it. I really don't. I was just- just thinking of dad and the blade was there. It called to me and- and-" She started to cry again. We cried together that day, and I stayed there that night.

Even to this day, we're still taking care of each other.

"Wow, you look like shit." I told her as I entered her house. It was two weeks into summer vacation and she called me complaining that she was sick.

"Thanks, Frank. Really appreciate it." She replied sarcastically as she laid on her couch.

"You're beautiful shit though." I walked over and kissed her forehead, which was definitely hotter than it should be. "It's okay, Doctor Frank is here to take care of you!"

"If we hadn't been doing this for about ten years, I'd think I would be dead after this, but you truly are a wonderful doctor." She chuckled.

"Oh, hush. I'm gonna make soup."

She cleaned me up after petty fights at school and I helped wrap her hand when she punched her dad. I had found out the day after. I was a little mad that she didn't tell me first, but I understood.

I'd always be there to fix her.