Forget About The Dirty Looks.

Gerard's POV
I continue to laugh to myself for about ten minutes. Then, I remember why I was even in his house in the first place, and it stops abruptly. My laughter isn't the only thing that stops, my legs do, too.
The person behind me crashes into the back of me and mutters stuff about me, but I ignore them.
They walk off, still chuntering. I look around, working out how far away the hospital is.
It's about a fifteen minute walk. I don't have any money, and I'd rather not face any of my friends right now, so I decide to walk. It's freezing, my short sleeves and still slightly damp hair doesn't help at all, either. I really need to invest in a coat, I hate having to be cold all the time.
My walk doesn't take as long as I thought, with me thinking deeply about everything, and I get to the hospital shaking and my lips are blue. I walk through the car park, spotting my mother. I duck behind a car, she's going to be furious with me. This is the second time I've ran out of the hospital and not told anybody where I'm going. This time, though, is worse because I've done lots of illegal shit in the past twenty four hours. Take unlicensed prostitution, for example. I bet she's proud of how her son is turning out be!
She has her back facing me, so I take a chance and sprint to the entrance. I look back once, and I lock eyes with her. Great! As soon as she realizes it's me, her whole demeanor changes. Her eyes narrow, her eyebrows furrow and her frown turns into a cross between a grimace and a scowl. I can only see her face, but I expect that she's got her arms either folded or on her hips, as well. She only does that when she's really mad.
I run in, ignoring her shouts of my name. Just about everybody on the ground floor turns and looks at me. One of the people being my lovely doctor. God has cursed me or something, hasn't he? Dr Johnson's face also goes from mildly calm to moderately angry, and he starts to walk towards me.
"Mr Way, what in the world do you think you are doing?" I shrug.
"Heading back up to my room, I guess." I keep my voice casual but with a cocky hint to it. He sighs at me, shaking his head.
"Where did you run off to? You know you aren't allowed to go off hospital premises." I shrug at him again.
"Can we discuss this in my room, maybe?" I sharpen my voice, not liking the doctor's tone. He looks around, as if just now noticing the group of twenty people staring at us. He nods, not looking at me and starts to walk off. We reach the elevator at the same time as a nurse pushing somebody in a wheelchair. That somebody has bruises all over, has casts on his hands and bruises on everywhere else. That somebody goes by the name of Frank Iero, sometimes Frankie. I mentally curse God, Satan and everybody in the fucking world.
"Can we take the stairs?" I keep my voice quiet, so Frank doesn't notice I'm stood right next to him. I hear sniffles coming from him and I want to give him a giant hug and kiss him until I pass out, but I don't.
"Why? There's no point, Mr Way. The quicker we get up there, the quicker we can speak about your sudden disappearance. And how you got the marks on your neck..." Shit, I forgot to cover up the hickies! I try to make the top of my shirt cover them up, but it's useless.
"Please?" He shakes his head at me and I give up asking and slump my shoulders.
I feel eyes on me. I peer sideways, trying to be inconspicuous. Frank's looking at me, his eyes are red and swollen and his hair is messy and tousled, as if he's been running his hands through it, numerous times. He's peering at me confusedly, like he's trying to work out who I am. I don't think he's seen my face yet, but Dr Johnson said my name pretty loud, I bet Frank heard him. It's probably my colorful clothes throwing him off. He's never seen me anything colorful, I even own black and grey towels. His eyes reach my face and for a split second we lock eyes. His widen, mine look back to the elevator doors. They open and we get it. I accidentally knock into his wheelchair and I mutter an apology, the atmosphere going even more awkward.
"Isn't this Frank, Gerard?" Wow, Doc. You really know what to say in awkward situations. Frank stiffens and inhales sharply.
"Yes." I keep the answer short, letting him know I don't want to talk anymore. He hums in response.
"What's up with the two of you? Had a little tiff or something?" God, kill me now, please. The nurse snorts, she obviously has picked up on what's going on. I cringe and lean back onto the wall, hiding my face with my hair.
"Something like that." Frank speaks, his voice bitter. We look at him in shock, noticing the horrible tone of his voice.
"Okay..." Ah, the penny drops for the incredible Dr Johnson, he finally gets it. I feel like clapping, but I know cocky behavior is not needed for this situation. I swear the last time I was getting a lift from the ground floor to the third one, it didn't take this fucking long. We're only on floor two.
"So, Gerard. Did you enjoy the sex and drugs last night?" Ah, shit. Frank is mad, obviously. Maybe even more mad than when I bought up his father.
"Uh... No?" I sound unsure, and it comes out as a question. I curse myself for sounding weak and think of a better answer.
"I mean... Uh, yeah I did. I forgot what it felt like, considering you never put out..." Ah, cocky Gerard has come out to play. Good, I like him better than weak, quiet Gerard. Frank's eyes narrow and he continues looking straight ahead.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hear chlamydia is super fun to have! Have fun being a slutty drug addict that has no proper friends, Gerard." Wow, okay. That stung slightly.
"I'm not addicted to drugs, Frankie." I use his nick-name in a horrible way, like I did when we first met. He winces, obviously hurt by the way I used the name.
"Okay, whatever, Gerard." He pauses, clearing his throat, "Why is it, that every time something bad happens.. and something good... and something exciting happens.." He counts on his fingers, then stops and looks at me. "Okay, when anything at all happens, you run back to Craig and get drunk or high?" I flush, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of anger. His tone is just as mocking as mine, if not more.
"I'm not an addict." I grit my teeth and spit out the words. I glance at what floor we're on, and notice we've gone past my floor and are on floor five. Great.
"Okay.. Calm yourself down, or you might feel the need to sneak into the chemist and steal some pills..." I recoil from his words, actually stepping back. "And then, you might go and run off, making everybody worried, again, and go fuck various men that you don't even know the names of. Or, you could hang yourself out of a window again, Gerard, that would be fun, wouldn't it?" He's spitting the words at me, bitterly, and his fists are clenched.
"Fuck off, Frank. At least they are fun and they don't have a panic attacks all the time. At least, they aren't fucked up, like you." I smirk at him, watching his facial expression go from smug to upset. He leans back into his chair, his shoulders slumped.
"I may be fucked up, I may have panic attacks. I've seen you have some moments, though, Gerard. I bailed you from the people threatening your family and abusing you. I've watched you have nightmares, I've watched you go to attack your brother. You aren't perfect yourself, call me out when you are, maybe I'll listen to you." He looks away and swallows. "And, you could learn some new insults, the one about my anxiety is getting old now, Gerard." The lift stops, the doors opening. The nurse and my doctor are both staring at us, I don't know how long for. The nurse snaps out of it and pushes Frank out. Before the doors fully close, I see him bury his face in his hands and heave a sob. When they full close, I bury my face in my hands and sob.
Shit, what are we doing? We're just making it worse. I hate these feelings, I want to go and get some pills to make me numb, but I can't, I'll just be proving Frank right.
I cry until we get back down to floor three, then I pull myself together. All the while, Dr Johnson has been staring at me, dumbstruck. When the doors open, I practically run from Dr Johnson, hating the way he's staring at me. I do run all the way down the ward to my room. I open the door, running in and closing it behind me, leaning on it for support.
"Gerard." My eyes fly open, revealing to me my very pissed off mother. I sigh, not even slightly mentally or physically prepared for what's going to happen.
"Mom.." My voice is just one big sigh. I close my eyes again and slide down the door, so I'm now sitting on the floor.
"Where did you run off to? I had around thirty missed calls from Mikey and about ten messages. We were worried sick, again." I seriously cannot go through with this, I just want to curl up on my bed and sleep the world away. I can't even muster the energy to shrug, so I do nothing.
"I heard you and Frank broke up. You apparently said some pretty shitty things to him." I cringe, thinking back to what I said.
"I'll take that as confirmation." She walks over to me, I can hear her footsteps. She sits next to me and I lean my head on her shoulder. She wraps an arm around me and rubs my arm a few times.
"What happened, honey?" I shrug, not wanting to explain. She sighs at me. I still haven't opened my eyes.
"Gerard, talk to me. Don't close up, not again." I shrug, again. She sighs, again.
"Did you know Frank nearly over-dosed on his medication? Well, it wasn't him, it was his nurse.." I sit bolt upright, my eyes opening wide.
"What?" My voice is hoarse and I can barely recognize it. She nods, looking at me sympathetically.
"He had just got off the phone from somebody, and he was crying, the nurse thought it was to do with the pain, Frank said it was as well, she gave him more morphine," She stops, taking in my distressed state. "She didn't check to see when his last dose was, he'd only had one an hour before that. Gerard, he almost died." I choke back a sob. He almost died. Almost died.
"Was it maybe something to do with you? The phone call, I mean, not the over dose on morphine.." I hesitate, debating on whether or not to tell her about all that happened last night. I decide to nod my head, still crying. She pulls me into a hug and she starts to stroke my hair.
"He just got out of surgery, about twenty minutes ago." That was why he was in the elevator, he'd just come out of a surgery that saved his life. He didn't look like he had, though. He was still in a wheelchair, not a stretcher. This hospital is shit, it needs to be fucking shut down.
"He should be able to come home in about five days, though. The doctors say he's healing up nicely but he'd be better of in a more comfortable environment. You should be able to come home soon, too." I nod.
"Where's he going to stay?" My words are broken up with sobs, but they're still coherent.
"Our house. He's part of the family now, Gerard. You need to be nice to him, okay?" I nod again. I sigh, thinking about how bad it'll be with him living with us.
"I know the two of you have just broken up, but you will get back together, I can tell." I look up at her, and she smiles down at me.
"How can you be so sure? I've fucked up so bad, mom. He hates me." She chuckles at me, making me slightly annoyed.
"You two love each other. Even if you're only eighteen, I can see you guys being together for a long time. This is only a slight bump in the track, sweetie." She ruffles my hair and starts to stand up, pulling me with her. "So the saying goes, Love Conquers All." I smile slightly, hope starting to gather in the back of my mind. I hope the saying is true, then.

Notes

Double update! Yay...
Last one tonight, though. Hope you like it! Thanks for reading!xo