When Frank woke up, he wasn't sure where he was. The walls were white as fuck, like blindingly, and he smelled antiseptic and lucky cigarettes, and his shoulder had a dull throb in it like after getting a new tattoo. He knew it was nighttime though, because he turned his head to the side and saw a window in the room. A tall, thick built blonde guy was sitting in a hard looking love seat with his muscular (damn, Frank thought (; ) arms around a smaller guy with weird sparkly makeup, a thick blue stripe across his face and a bunch of colorful scarves layered on a motherfucking care-bear shirt, and they were sleeping.

“Better not be heaven because this shit is weird,” he tried to say, but a dry croaky noise just escaped his lips. He turned his face forward, it hurt kind of, like, it felt like it feels after it hurts.

GeGerardGeraGerardgerarGerard, his brain fumbled over the word for awhile. Was that who that was? The guy with really greasy long black hair, brownish roots poking a bit through the top. Purple socks, sticking just above a ten year old pair of black Doc Martens, holey jeans rolled up a bit, and a red long sleeved sex pistols t-shirt. Wait, that’s familiar, familiar? Is it though?

~
FLASHBACK

Frank walked up to the apartment across from him, he wasn’t sure if this person would help him get his door open, but he hoped they would. Everyone else gave him a Get-the-fuck-away-from-me look, and he already had social anxiety. God forbid another asshole. Frank timidly raised his fist to knock on the door, and a few seconds later a taller (taller than Frank) man opened the door.

“Hi, um...My name is Frank.” he stuttered out, chewing on his lip. His rough fingers played with the hem of his red sex-pistols long sleeve T-shirt.The guy’s eyes raked over Frank’s physique like he was some kind of clay sculpture, taking in every detail and lingering a bit on the t-shirt.

“Hello. Frank?”

Frank gulped looking anywhere but the sleepy eyed, raven haired man. “Yeah. Well, I kind of just moved here...and can’t get my door open.” he said exasperatedly. The tall guy leaned forward a bit, his olive eyes peering over Frank’s small shoulder, moving his mouth around unspoken syllables. Frank cleared his throat, and the dude, just, snapped back and blinked a few times.

“Oh yeah...I can help I guess.” The guy said, speaking out of the side of his mouth, lips moving curiously over every word. And then walked past Frank to his door.

~

“Gerard?” he tried to speak again, and it came out half okay, sounding more like ‘gehrrd’. Gerard’s head lifted a bit from his hands, which had been rubbing his head from an awkward bent over sitting position. He seemed to be thinking whether or not the voice was real, before laying his head back into his hands again, visibly shaking. “Gerard, you fucking asshole. What the fuck is going on!?” Frank managed to wail out, pushing himself up on the hospital bed, and proceeding to knock over a bottle of pills and a glass of water in the process.

“Frankie?” Gerard cried, jumping up from his sitting spot, and running to the hospital bed. “Frank! You fucking- Frank!” he leaned onto the ground next to the hospital bed, water seeping through the knees of his jeans, but he didn’t care.

“Gee?”

Frank reached his hand forward, wincing a bit from the dull pain in his shoulder, and ran his fingers through a lock of Gerard’s long black hair. Gerard closed his eyes, and took a long, sad inhale of air, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. Sighing, Frank tried to scoot closer, but it hurt like a bitch.

Gerard’s eyes snapped open, and he got up and fluffed Frank’s pillow a bit before standing awkwardly by the side of his bed. “Gerard, how long have I been out? What happened? Who is Mr.Buff, and Senora Sparkles over by the window, and why does my fucking shoulder hurt so bad?”

“Um,” he started, because Frank was like, looking at him with these huge saucer eyes like he was looking at God, all watercolor and golden like fall foliage. “Um, well okay.”

“Um, well okay? Gee please, please.”

Gerard scrunched up his nose, rubbing it with his forefinger and thumb. “So, like you have been unconscious for at least two weeks, and said maybe you wouldn’t wake up. Which is bullshit because I was all like ‘Have you ever met him? That little shit would repopulate the earth if he was the only person on it, he would find a way.’” Frank giggled at that, but still looked shocked at the amount of time he had been unconscious.

“Two weeks?” he squeaked, sinking into the crisp white sheets.

“Yeah i know right? Oh, and Valentine shot you. In the shoulder. And then, Charlie dropped by to bring you dinner because she knew your ADD would eat you alive and found Valentine wiping red stripes down his face with your blood, and you were sitting halfway in the apartment and halfway out, so she like, called the cops. And Valentine just kept saying ‘This ain't what you want, but I’ll fire at will.’”

Frank’s mouth was kind of hanging open a bit, like he was going to say something but then changed his mind, and then he mindlessly felt around his shoulder with his other hand and noticed the wide wrapping of gauze around it, and like ten pounds of medical tape.
“A lot to take in? Yeah I know, babe. Jesus Christ I am so happy you are okay.” Gerard laughed nervously, eyes flitting from the floor and back to Frank’s. “Oh, and that’s Bob Bryar, a friend and his boyfriend Ryan Ross.”

“That’s Bob Bryar?”

“Uh,” Gerard raised both eyebrows, “Yeah. Do you know him?”

Frank started coughing holding up his hand, and Gerard quickly shuffled over to his seat to retrieve a bottle of water, handing it to Frank. He gulped a few times, and then closed his eyes. “Yeah I know the motherfucker.” Frank said breathlessly, “Aren’t you supposed to go get a doctor when I wake up? My chest is on fire, man.”

Gerard’s eyes went like wider than Ray’s afro, whoever that was, and he said something along the line of ‘Fuck me sideways, shit damn, Doctor!’, and ran out of the room. His loud as fucking shit shoes woke up sleeping butchy, and his princess, McSparkleSlap.

“Little Italy, dating one of my bestfriends and not even telling me.” Bob said, laughing, his little companion smiling up at him through mascara coated lashes. “And getting hot, too? What happened with your closet romance with the French teachers daughter?”

Frank laughed, a trail of spit leaving his mouth so he wiped it away. “A kid happened, and so did dropping out of school.”

“What happened to Lucia?”

“She lost custody because meth was found in her apartment, but she wasn't arrested. For some reason.”

“That’s fucking-” Bob started to say, when the door opened and Gerard trailed in, followed by a short guy with black hair, a very tall blonde scene kid holding the hand of a smallish girl who had awesome as hell black eye shadow, seriously though. And, um, oh fuck, Frank thought. It was Mia.

“Hi Frank!” She said, flashing a big smile, “You are very awake I can see, and in not much pain either I hear. That’s quite odd, considering your previous medical history. It is odd to think you hadn’t actually shot yourself, Francesco.” Mia said, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear while everyone else in the room exchanged looks back and forth. “Considering your, um, disorder.”

Gerard coughed, picking his nail at the wall behind him. “His what? Frank what is she talking about?”

Mia looked up at Frank as she started to change his bandages, the other people starting to leave noticing the sudden tension in the room. “You can tell him Mia.” Frank said, looking down at the bed instead of at Gerard.

Mia finished changing Frank’s bandages, slowly taping one last part up before dusting her hands off on her pants. “Well Frank, is a sociopath.”

“A sociopath? Why didn’t you tell me?” Gerard hissed.

Frank cackled, eyes landing directly on Gerard. “And being addicted to alcohol and prescription drugs behind my back is much better?”

Notes

SO FRANK's a sociopath. Which means, that he likes to take risks, and do stuff to his limits, but is slightly antisocial. He rarely had remorse for things unless he loves them. he is addicting, and snoopy, rude, and has bipolar feelings. Sociopaths usually self harm in early years, or have Self Injury Disorder. I only know because um. ANd they are very confident in their body, but not with other people.

And okay so you can definitely feel the tension between him and Gerard, and HOW COME BOB KNOWS FRANK? And i totally ship Bob and Ryan Ross (adorable!), and I know its confusing but I swear it will get better (not better but less confusing.)

Night Lovelies,
XoXo Sage