Cupid De Locke | Frerard

[26]

a/n: hey guys, uhhh, 1k ??? fucking HELL ily all so much <3 btw- this is a double chapter upload, so make sure to move onto the next chapter after this ahaha. ok now get ready to cry i guess.

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Gerard's POV

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From the corner of my eye, I can see Frank. Surrounded by paramedics, who are desperately trying to resuscitate him, he's sprawled out on a stretcher.

"Can you tell me how the accident happened?" A paramedic from beside me asks, urgingly. I can't focus on him. All I can do is stare at the wreck, burning in all its glory, the fire raging on despite the ongoing attempts to dim it out.

"Shit, we're losing him again..." a voice calls out from where Frank is lay.

"Frankie..."

"Sir, he's in good hands. I understand that you're worried right now, but trust me when I say that they're trying their best." He pats me on the shoulder. "Now can you tell me how the accident took place."

"D-drunk driver, I- I think."

"I see." He notes down what I've just said on a notepad, writing in what looks like chicken scratch.

"I could have saved him," I whisper to myself.

The paramedic picks up on what I've said, "That wouldn't have been possible." He shakes his head pitifully.

"But- I could have..."

"No."

"But-"

My whole body is stiff with shock. I can't bring myself to face the inevitable; the fact that the love of my life could simply die right now. What have I done to him? What damage have I caused?

The paramedic beside me taps me on the shoulder after receiving some kind of signal from his co-workers that Frank is stable enough to be brought into the ambulance. "Follow me, sir."

We walk over to the ambulance, where he's lifted in. As I sit down, all I can do is stare.

I can feel my stomach drop with terror as I watch him lying there, barely conscious, a struggled look plastered over his face.
If it weren't for me, he'd be okay right now.

"Please... is he going to be alright?" I ask one of the other paramedics, clutching one of the rails on the side of the gurney.

"We're trying our best, sir." she replies firmly.

"B-but what's happening to him?" I watch him gasp for air behind an oxygen mask. His cheeks are streaked with tears; his hair is plastered to his forehead with blood and sweat.

"Please calm down. He's in good hands, alright?" she sighs. "By the looks of it, he's received some heavy trauma from the crash."

I hear the doors slam behind us, and we begin moving.

"Oh. Okay."

I gaze at Frank, whose eyes are fluttering open ever so slightly.

"Baby? A-are you awake?" I ask him, stroking his forehead with the back of my hand.

"It's unlikely that he'll reply at the moment. He's moving in and out of consciousness, as you can see." The paramedics are still tending to him.

"Can I hold his hand?"

"Go ahead. Be gentle with him. He might still respond to pain."

I slip my fingers softly between his. He squeezes back intensely, his fingernails scratching my knuckles.