Safe?.... Never! (Re-edited for easier reading)

After spending the next 13 days in a hospital bed, eating crappy hospital food, and drinking disgusting hospital coffee.. Frank was just about to tear his hair out if he didn't get out of there right, the fuck, now!

"Doc, please.."

He almost begged.

".. I'm begging you.."

Ok, so he did beg.

".. Let me go home... I'm fine now, and I can't take this any longer.. I'm going insane in this place.. Please?"

The doctor, a guy who insisted everyone call him "Dick"... peered over his hippy glasses at Frank and smirked.

"Calm down Mr. Iero.. I came in to tell you that you're free to leave. I just signed your discharge documents.. aaand.."

He drew out the word as he searched through the stack of papers in his hand.

".. Ah, here it is.. Your prescription.. Painkillers.."

He clarified.

".. These are a much lower dose than you had here, but they are stronger than over the counter ones."

Dick handed the papers to Frank with a nod and a curt smile, then left the room.
Sighing deeply, Frank grabbed his phone off the little bedside cabinet, and pressed speed dial 4. It rang only twice before Bob picked up..

"Hey Frank. How's it hangin'?"

Bob chirped.. All together too cheerful for Frank's liking.

"I'm ok.."

Frank muttered back.

".. They're letting me out.. Doc just told me"

"Really?.."

Way too happy! Frank scowled.. He was seriously not appreciating Bob's joviality these days.

".. That's great man!.. You need a ride?"

Unfortunately!

"Yeah, if it's ok?"

He would've preferred to call Ray, but with Mikey taking Gerard's abduction so badly, it was basically impossible to get him to leave the house right now.

"Sure dude.."

Dude?.. Really?

".. I'll be there in ten.. That cool?"

Frank wanted to punch him.

"Yeah, ok... I'll be out front."

He said through grinding teeth, then hung up.
Already dressed in grey joggers and a Smashing Pumpkins tee, Frank slipped on his red Converse, packed up his few belongings, (couple pairs pyjamas, some boxers and socks, his iPod, keys, and his phone) then left the tiny room he'd been in for the past few weeks, waving goodbye to two nurses on the way, and walked out of the ward toward the elevator.

When Frank reached the outside world, breathing the slightly smoggy Jersey air for the first time in nearly 5 weeks, he knew today was going to be a bad one.
He was going home. Going to the house he shared with Gerard, but he wouldn't be there.
All his stuff would be in that house. All his clothes and CDs, his sketchbooks, from, so long ago it seemed. Then there were the photos of the two of them together, happy, laughing.. Safe!... Would they ever have that again?

As Bob's shitty red car pulled up to the curb, Frank wiped the tears from his face with a sigh, picked up his bag and walked over to the passenger door.
When he climbed in, Bob was grinning at him.

"Hey Frank.. Feel good getting outta there?"

Over the last few weeks, Frank had actually started to hate the guy, who had, once upon a time, been his best friend. Bob was too happy.
It wasn't exactly that he wanted his friend to be unhappy, he just felt that being so upbeat, when God only knows what, was happening to poor Gee, was, maybe, a little bit tactless.

Frank mumbled a reply and stared out the side window as Bob pulled away from the hospital grounds and onto the main road, back toward Frank and Gee's home.

As he drove, Bob rambled on about.. whatever he thought would interest his companion. Frank remained silent.
After a while, Bob realised he was getting nowhere, and reached over to turn on the radio, Motörhead blasting out of his quality sound system, which, truth be told, probably cost twice what his whole car did.
Frank flinched slightly at the loud intrusion on his thoughts, but otherwise, didn't react.

27 minutes after leaving the hospital, they arrived at the house, Bob putting the car into park next to Frank's, and turning off the engine.

"We"re here."

He said in an unnecessary cheery voice, in the freshly awkward silence that hung between them.
Frank looked over at the blonde with somewhat angry eyes. He could see where they were. He didn't need it pointing out.

"Thanks for the lift."

He muttered, reaching for the door handle.

"Do you want some company?"

Bob asked hopefully.
Frank screwed his eyes shut, he could feel a headache coming on.

"No thanks Bob.."

He said, with his back turned to the other man.

".. I just need some sleep."

With that, he opened the car door and climbed out, slamming it behind him, as it would never shut otherwise, then walked up to his front door, pausing for only a second, to wave "Goodbye", then went inside and locked the door behind him.
For several minutes, Frank stood with his back pressed against the wood of the door, his eyes closed, his head rested back, and his chest rising and falling rapidly, as he felt himself start to hyperventilate.

Remembering all the times he'd helped Gerard get through panic attacks, he fought to regain control of his shaky breathing. After a while, he felt himself returning to normal.
With a couple more deep, steadying breaths, Frank opened his eyes and looked around the living room.
It was just as he remembered it. The same worn out sofas, the same TV, DVDs haphazardly piled beneath it, and the photos on the wall, the ones they'd taken together on their trip to Jamaica, in those first two days there, before they'd both taken ill.

As Frank's eyes landed on the shot of them holding hand on the beach, laughing and smiling at something the girl they'd asked to take the picture had said, Frank finally broke.

Falling to his knees, tears making a waterfall down his face, Frank let out a loud, tortured scream, before collapsing into a heap, and, before passing out, whispering.. Just.. One.. Word......

"Gerard....."

Notes

Hi chipmunks...
Cant think what to say right now!.. Can you?.. Please comment?
peace out babies
<3