Forget About The Dirty Looks.

Gerard's POV
It's been four days since our wedding. A week since Frankie was told he only had two, maybe two and a half weeks to live. A week since I said that I'd be his donor.
I've had tests. I can donate my liver, if I want to. Or, I could say no in hopes that they find him one in time. I don't think they're even looking for an eligible donor for him anymore.
I got told I could be his donor on the day of our wedding. Right before the guys came and picked me up. I told them yes instantly, but they told me to go and sleep on it and tell them the next day. I did what they said.
My answer was that I'd do it. They went through everything with me, like the operation, how Frankie's health would be after it. How I'd die. It won't be painful, apparently, and they would give me enough medication to make me sleep through it, my death.
I haven't told anybody. I've tried to tell my mom, but my throat closes up and I blurt out something different. Same thing has happened with Mikey, and Ray. I'm not close enough to Bob to tell him, and I haven't even tried talking to Frankie about it.
Frank's in a mindset that he's going to die. He made the wedding happen because he thinks it's his last days with me and that he's going to die. It's the other way round, and, honestly, it's killing me. The guilt, the love for him, the everything. Every fiber in my body is telling me not to do it. But there's also something telling me that if I don't agree to it, he'll die. That's enough to make me sign the papers, and agree to it all.
We've decided to leave me as a back-up plan. If they can't find a donor by when they absolutely have to, they will use me. I've told them to not tell Frankie, just my mom, and Mikey. I want them to tell him instead of the doctors, he knows them better. I'm hoping that it'll soften the blow.
I've wrote out my will. I don't have much, but what I do have I've left most of it to Frankie. Like my car, any money that I have saved, my vinyls, DVD's, stuff like that.
I've been let out of the hospital, too. The doctor in charge of my case told the psych ward that I should be let out early because of what is going to happen in about a week. While I've been at home, I've been doing stuff that will hopefully help Frankie after everything. He's going to be living in my house, so I've hidden little messages and things around the house. I've told mom, and Mikey to not touch anything, they asked what they were for but I couldn't answer them.
I've heard from Mikey that Craig is out to get me. Mikey, and Ray now know that I did the little prank on him, and I told them the story behind it. They were pretty upset that I did all the drugs and stuff, but eventually they laughed. I told them that yesterday, and it was probably the most exciting thing to happen to me since the wedding.
Today, I'm visiting Frankie. I've seen him everyday since we got married, but only for little snippets of time. He needs me, I need him. I've missed him, so much. I've just been too busy with everything to see him for extended periods of time.
I'm dressed and eating a cereal bar. I don't have to stick to the visiting times anymore, so I'm going now. It's only eight in the morning, but I know he'll be awake. The pain has been waking him up, he hasn't been getting enough sleep. You can tell just by looking at him, he looks exhausted.
I get in the car, not shouting goodbye, mom's at work, Mikey's at school. I get into my car and drive to the hospital, shivering. It's fucking freezing. When I get out, a huge gust of freezing wind blows past and I think I turn into a human ice cube.
All I have to do is look at the receptionist and she lets me through, I've been here so many times. Same with the dude in ICU.
When I reach Frank's room, he's being served breakfast. I wait until the nurse is out of the room and then enter.He looks up, sees it's me and smiles so wide I'm sure part of his jaw breaks.
"Not expecting me, were you?" I'm not wearing a smile, but my voice is warm and happy. He shakes his head and open his arms wide, knocking some... porridge out of the bowl. He doesn't even look down. I walk over to him, pulling him into a gentle hug. Even though I'm as soft as possible, he still winces in pain. I pull away, smiling.
"What the hell is that?" I gesture to his 'food' and curl my lip up in disgust. He stares at it, with the same expression as me on his face.
"Apparently it's some kind of soup. It's good for my health..." I chuckle at his expression.
"Oh, I though it was porridge..." We both laugh and I pull out another cereal bar and hand it to him. He grabs it happily, ignoring the 'soup'. I pick it up for him, going into his bathroom and tipping it down the sink. I think the sink is now slightly clogged, but who cares?
I sit back down and watch him eat. He eats like an animal, it's disgusting, but at the same time highly amusing. When he finishes, he leans back a bit.
"How are you, Frank?" He shrugs.
"I'm.. good." I sigh, scooting closer to him.
"Frank, never become an actor, you can't fake a smile to save your life.." I half grin at him.
"Now, tell me the truth." I reach for his hand, entwining my fingers with it. He looks down at our hands, sighing.
"I feel like shit. Everything hurts, Gerard." When he looks at me, there are tears in his eyes.
"Why did this have to happen to me? I mean, I know I caused this, but.. why?" I don't have an answer for him. I just stare at him, my thumb rubbing small circles on his knuckles. He sighs, a tears dropping onto his cheek. He quickly rubs it away, then wiping his eyes in hope to get rid of anymore.
"I don't want to die, not anymore. I don't want to leave you. I love you, so much, I.. I just hate this, y'know?" I nod at him, wiping under his eyes where more tears have fell.
"I love you, too," I don't know what else to say, but he smiles a little at this. "That's why this is so hard, isn't it?" I'm more thinking out loud than talking to him. I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, I need to be strong for Frankie.
Frank lets go of my hand and shuffles to the side, wincing. He then pats the patch of bed next to me, telling me to get in. I pull my shoes and jacket off. I climb on, slowly, not wanting to jolt him. When I'm comfortable, I wrap an arm around him, my other hand finding his again.
"We'll be okay, Frankie..." My voice is soft and quiet, if I speak any louder my voice will shake.
"Yeah... There won't really be a 'we' though, will there? There will be an alive you, and a dead me." I gulp. It's the other way round I think in my head, but I can't bring myself to say it.
"There will always be a we, Frankie. Even when we're both dead, there will always be a we," My voice shakes, it doesn't matter how quiet I say things now. "I'll make sure of it.." He doesn't say anything back. I feel something wet keep hitting my t-shirt. He's crying.
"Hey, hey... Frankie, don't cry, it'll be.. okay." Even to my ears, my words sound like a lie.
"It's easy for you to say, you aren't the one dying!" I think he was meant to shout, but it came out a little louder than a croaky whisper.
"Okay... What do you want me to say?" He shrugs, his face still buried in my shirt. "I'm only trying to make you feel better Frankie..." He sighs, it's shaky.
"I know.. I'm sorry, Gee." His voice is muffled. I kiss the top of his head, and he relaxes into me more.
"It's okay... Don't worry about it." I wrap the arm that was holding Frankie's hand, pulling him closer, gently. We both sigh at the same time. I let out a little chuckle.
"Our mental synchronization can have but one explanation; Me and you were just meant to be.." Now I'm singing Frozen. I don't even know if they're the right words...
It makes Frankie laugh, though. A small, weak laugh, but it was still a laugh.
"You're such a dork, Gerard..." He looks up at me, his cheeks slightly stained by tears. I lean down and kiss his nose.
"Yeah, but I'm your dork.." He rolls his eyes at me, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. We stare at each other, my head inching closer to his. I kiss him, butterflies dancing slightly in my stomach. We kiss for a while, the kiss desperate and full of something I can't describe. Frankie winces, making me pull away and stare at him in concern. He stares straight ahead for a minutes, catching his breath. Suddenly he's coughing. He's coughing so hard, and it sounds so painful.
I jump out of the bed, running out of the door, calling for help. When somebody notices me, we run back to Frankie's room. He's still coughing, his face crimson and contorted in pain. He retches, like he's going to be sick and the nurse grabs a little cardboard bowl from under the bed. He coughs and retches, but he doesn't bring up sick, he brings up blood.
As soon as I see the liquid run from his lips, I cower away. Memories from the other night when I freaked out run through my head. It's fucking blood, I can't... It's blood.
When Frank finally finishes coughing, he looks ready to pass out. His eyes keep rolling back, he's shaking, and he's really pale. The nurse lies him down, wiping away the blood from around his mouth and stuff. I'm still in the corner. I feel lightheaded, and I release a breath. I think I've been holding my breath for a while, my lungs are aching. I bring a hand up to run it through my hair, and notice it's shaking pretty badly. I stare at it for a minute, and then stuff it into my pocket.
"Are you okay, sir?" I feel a hand lightly shake my shoulder, so I turn to look at the nurse. I nod my head, not being able to find my voice. She nods.
"Mr Iero is asleep now, you can leave if you want.." I glance at Frank, who's lying on the bed. I walk over to him, trying to ignore the blood and kiss his forehead, wiping the hair out of his face.
"I love you, Frankie." I whisper so she doesn't hear and then walk out of the door, flashing the nurse a small smile.
I need to go see his doctor. I'm not sure he's going to last two weeks, let alone two and a half. I hope he's in his office.
I knock on his door, smiling slightly when I hear the come in. He doesn't look up from his papers until I sit down.
"Ah, Gerard. What can I do for you?" I lean forwards, my face blank.
"It's Frank..." His smile is gone of his face in an instant. He leans forwards, too.
"What about him?" I shake my head and sigh.
"He... He just, like, coughed up a shit ton of blood... I don't think he's going to last the two weeks.." He sighs, sinking down in his chair. I've noticed that Frank and Martin have quite a close friendship. Frank told me that he want Martin to come to his funeral.
"This is bad. This is really bad... You could be right, Gerard.." I gulp, we might have to do the surgery a lot earlier than I planned.
"I'll come and take a look at him. Then we'll talk about it." I nod and we both stand up. We walk back to Frank's room, and go in. The nurse is still in here, cleaning up the droplets of blood from the floor.
Martin walks straight over to the thing that has the blood in it. He looks in it, wincing at how much there is. He then pulls back the blanket covering Frank's stomach and looks at him. He tuts and just looks at Frank in general. He places his hand on Frank's forehead.
He then seems to have completed his check over and walks back over to the door, gesturing for me to follow him. We walk back to his office in silence, Martin deep in thought. We go in his room and sit down, still in silence.
Many minutes later, he speaks up.
"He's bad. Frank's deteriorating faster than expected," He looks at me, and I nod, silently telling him to continue. "In all of the organ failure cases I've worked in, which is a fair few, this kind of thing happens when it's nearly the patient's end. The stomach swells, they cough blood, high temperature, constant pain. Frank has all of these thing, and they're only getting worse. Instead of the two to two and a half estimate, I'd give him five days at the most." Shit...
"We need to do the operation sooner than we thought then, don't we?" Oh, fuck off, shaky voice. He nods at me. My stomach sinks, I don't have as much time with him as I want.
"We have to do it as soon as possible. Tomorrow or the next day would be brilliant.."
"Can I have as long as possible? I want to spend time with him..." He nods, opening his planner and jotting a few sentences down.
"You have two days, Gerard," He leans forward. "The longer we leave it, the higher chance of the surgery not working. The higher chance he'll die.." I have no words, so I just nod. I join my hands together, trying to stop the shaking. Two days...
"Any questions?" I think for a second then shake my head. He smiles at me, the smile small and sympathetic. I stand up, heading to the door.
"Goodbye, Martin."
"See you, Gerard."

I walked home, thinking all the way. I decided that I was going to tell mom, and Mikey. Neither of them will be home yet, though. When I got home, I felt pretty tired, so I decide to take two of my mom's sleeping pills and get some sleep.
I wake up to my mom shaking my shoulder frantically, Mikey behind her, biting his nails. As soon as I open my eyes both of them sigh and visibly relax.
"Jesus, Gerard, I thought you'd.." She trails of awkwardly.
"Over-dosed?" My voice is still thick with sleep but you can hear the sharpness. She nods, looking slightly guilty from the assumption.
"I have something to tell you two.. Sit down." They do as I say, and I sit up, stretching. Mom looks pretty worried. I decide to just come out with it, knowing that if I stall I won't tell them.
"Frank only has five days left. The original estimate was wrong." Mom puts he hand on my knee, rubbing it in hope of comforting me.
"I've.. uh, taken some tests. I can save his life by giving him a liver." I don't say anything else, wanting the information I just told them to settle in. Their faces are blank for a minute, but Mikey is the first one to speak.
"What?" His voice is small, and he's looking at me like he used to when we were kids and he'd just been told some bad news. Mom's staring at me in shock, not moving.
"I'm giving Frankie my liver. The operation is in two days." The shock that's holding my mom from cracking breaks, and she starts to sob.
"But.. you'll die?" Mikey's voice is even smaller and there's a tremor to it. I nod, not looking him in the eye. Mom's still crying, her face buried in her hands.
"No.." He shakes his head. "No.. You.. You can't. You're my big brother. I.. I need you, Gerard. You can't.." Tears leak out of Mikey's eyes, that being the only sigh of what he's feeling.
"I have to, Mikey. It's Frankie... I have to." He lets out a chocked sob, and soon enough all three of us are crying and hugging each other for dear life. Mom mutters things occasionally, sounding heartbroken.
"What about us? I'm your mom, Mikey's your brother." Her voice is strained. I sigh, the tears still coming.
"I'm.. sorry.." You can barely hear me, the words coming out as sobs. Hands grip my cheeks, making me look up. My mom's eyes are filled with grief and pain. She searches my face, tears falling down her cheeks. She then clutches me into a hug, her body shaking. She holds me tight, making it hard to breathe. I clutch her just as hard, though.
"My baby... Oh my God.. Gerard.." She whispers things like that into my hair, her voice breaking. We pull away after a while, the room filled with sounds of quiet crying.
"What does Frank think?" I look at Mikey. His glasses are fogged up. I shrug.
"I don't know." He looks at me incredulously.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know what he thinks, I haven't told him."
"What? Why? He deserves to know."
"I know he does.. But if I tell him, he won't let me, and I can't let him just die!" Mikey stops questioning me after that, ducking his head. I calm myself down, wanting to discuss things calmly.
"I need you guys to tell him, after it's happened. When you've told him, you can't let him out of your sight. I don't know how he'll react, but it probably won't be good, he might do something stupid, and I won't.. be.. here.. to stop him.." They nod at me, and I take a few deep breaths. "You need to look after him, be nice. Don't resent him for my decision. He needs love, he'll only have you guys. He likes to be sung to if he has a nightmare.. Asleep is his favorite, you know that one don't you, mom?" She smiles at me, tears still dripping slowly out of her eyes.
"Yeah.. I do. Don't worry, Gerard, he'll be fine.." I nod, thinking of anything they might need to know.
"He's vegetarian.. He's allergic to walnuts, it's not really bad or anything, just don't let him have any. He'll forget to go and get his haircut, so make him do that every few months or something.. He has panic attacks a lot, you need to make him look you in the eyes and tell him to breathe, if he doesn't, slap him.. He'll be really shy at first, probably, just.. be nice to him, okay? Love him more than I ever have, he'll need it. Tell him to remember that I said I love him, and that I'll continue to love him even though.. I'm dead." She nods, pulling me into a hug, rubbing my back. Mikey joins in, and I start to cry again. I think I'm crying harder than I have in years. How can I leave him, especially like this.. I love him. I love him, so much.
"Tell him that there will always be a 'we'." I can barely manage to get the sentence out, and it's warbled, but she nods.
"Okay, Gerard. He'll be fine, we love him. We'll tell him you love him, we'll make sure he remembers it. I promise." I nods my head, finding it hard since I'm being hugged. When I finally calm down, I begin to speak again.
"When he starts to date again, don't let him be guilty. Tell him that I want him to be happy, that I said for him to get as many men as he wants, okay? Don't let him be sad forever, let him grieve for as long as he wants, but make him happy," I'm gripping mom's hand, my fingers have turned white. "Make sure he takes any medication they give him after all this has finished. I know he'll some, might be for anxiety, depression, but he'll have some. Make him take care of himself, make him take the right amount, watch him swallow them even, then take them and lock them away." I'm not even filtering what's coming out of my mouth anymore, I'm just telling them what's been on my mind. They nod anyway, and mom pries my fingers off hers, then she grips my hand, lighter than I did, giving me support. Mikey's been silent through most of this, and when I look at him, he still has tears streaming down his face. I pull him in a hug, letting him cry.
"I love you, Mikey. Don't you forget it. Take care of Frank, but take care of yourself, as well. I need you to do that, okay? Will you do that for me?" He nods into my chest. "Do you promise?"
"Yeah.. I promise, Gee." He sounds like five year old Mikey again, and it breaks my heart. I say nothing after that, I just stroke his hair and let him cry, just like when dad died.

Notes

Hope you've had/are having great Christmases, if you celebrate it.. If not, I hope you're having a great day.
Hope you enjoy the chapter, thanks for reading!xo