Scandalous (Frerard)

Franks p.o.v

I savored every day with him after that. When ever he hugged me, I breathed in his scent, clutched onto him what felt like forever, and I almost cried when he let go.
Because I knew I wouldn’t be in his arms for a while when I went.
I cried when I thought about it, but I knew it’d help us both in the long run. Neither of us could live like this, and I knew that.
So on sunday morning, I got up early in the morning to head to the hospital. I slipped away from his sleeping form, careful not to wake him as I removed his hands from around my waist. I left a note for Mikey, witch I knew he would see.
I had already packed a pag and hid it in his closet, to make it easier to leave. It was about 7 the time I finally got out of the house.
I made sure to ask Mikey to pick up my car from the hospital when i’d been admitted. So, I made the short trip down, driving extra slow to calm my nerves.
When I got there, I just sat for a minute, weighing the pros and the cons of what I was about to do.
Eventually, pros won. ANd with a short lived burst of confidence, I got out of the car and walked to the front of the hospital. You couldn’t just show up at a ward, you had to go to a regular hospital first and then get admitted.
It was nearly vacant when I stepped in. I walked slowly to the front desk, looking at the dark haired lady calmly.
“I-I want to be admitted to a nearby mental ward.” I say quietly, looking nervously at her.
“Name?” She asks calmly, clicking away on her computer.
“Frank Iero.” I respond hesitantly. She continues to ask questions and eventually takes me to another room. There, they take my weight and blood pressure, before sending me to a regular hospital bed to wait for an ambulance to take me to a nearby.
I sit calmly above the sheets, clutching into my bag. Eventually, I give in to tiredness and lie down, closing my eyes when they can't seem to stay open anymore.
*
*
*
I wake to the same bright lights, but now there's loud yelling. I get up as quickly as I can in my sleepy state, rushing anxiously to the door.
I let out a cry of shock when I catch sight of fire truck red hair and a distraught narrow face. Gerard and Mikey.
And several nurses and guards.
“He doesn't know what he’s doing!” Gerard shouts, struggling against one of the guards. “Let me go! I have to see him!”
I take an involuntary step toward him, tears seeming to wobble in my eyes.
“Gerard!” I call out, taking a couple of more steps. He stops struggling to look at me.
“Frank?! Oh Frank! Baby, you don't need to be here! Tell them you wanna go home baby boy, we can go home together!”
“Gerard…” I whisper, meeting his eye.
“You...you don't wanna come home?” He asks, tilting his head. I could tell he was hurt.
“Gerard...no. I just, I need to get better! For the both of us, so we can be happy!” I say, coming closer to him. The guard lets go of him, letting him stand limply by himself.
“But…”
“I need to do this, Gee. I’m sorry.” I whisper, coming to stand close to him.
“Okay,” He whispers, tears forming in his eyes. “Okay, just promise you'll always come back to me?” He says, his voice just above a whisper now.
“I promise. I love you.” I tell him, grabbing his hands.
“I love you too angel.” He responds, a tear running down his sad, pale face.
*
*
*
Let me tell you, riding in his ambulance is weird. Its required they strap you into the gurney, which is utter bullshit. Its cool riding in it, but I felt trapped all strapped in like that.
But hospitals are weirder. It smells like cleaner, even though it's not a real hospital. They asked too many questions and weighed me again, before handing me a set of close and sending me to a room.
No one was there when I went in my room. I was told everyone was at group therapy. I got changed into the blue scrubs and was told they’d give me my regular clothes tomorrow.
When I finished I was taken to the cafeteria when they had lots of breakfast foods and a drink dispenser. It wasn't all that bad.
I already missed Gerard.
I ignored that though, and tried paying attention to my damn food. When I finished, the nurse lead me down a series of hallways before we reached a large, colorful room with several other patients.
I looked panickedly around the room, avoiding the eyes of the other patients. The nurse gestured toward a chair, making me step forward and take a seat.
“Hi there Frank. I’m Mrs. Sullivan, your therapist. Everyone, we’ll go around in a circle and introduce ourselves, okay?” She says, smiling at each of us. The kid to her right starts, telling us his name and a couple of things about him. It goes on like that until we reach the last person.
A few people stick out, like this guy named Cameron and a girl named Hayley with orange and yellow hair. Eventually she asks me to tell everyone about myself, but I have no idea what to say.
“You wanna start with how you got in here?” Cameron asks, a sweet smile on his lips.
“Were actually not suppose to share that, but if it makes you feel better, Mrs. Sullivan doesn't particularly care.” Another patient says.
“I-I admitted myself. I got really, really depressed and into, um, some drugs over an incident that happened.” I explain, leaving out that I was raped. Hayley sends me a reassuring smile and nods a little, as if telling me I did good.
“Good! Now, what do you like to do for fun?” Mrs. Sullivan asks, a graceful smile on her dark lips.
“I guess I used to like to read. It was really all I did, except for play guitar.” I respond, shrugging my shoulders.
“Oh, cool! I used to love to play!” Cameron announces, smiling at me. I smile back nervously, folding my hands in my lap.
“Good. Alright, you guys ready to go back to the entertainment room? I’ll call you all into my office for one-on-one sessions soon.” Mrs. Sullivan announces. Getting up from her chair. I feel fear overtake my body as I watch as everybody leaves. Hayley comes right over to me though, a smile on her pretty face.
“Hey! Your names Frank, right?” She asks, smiling warmly at me. I nod, getting up.
“Yeah,” I say shakily, trying to smile.
“Cool. We can hang out if you want. Everyone else around here is mean or utterly crazy, except for Cameron and a few others.” She explains, looking around for eavesdroppers.
“Yeah, I’d like that. So, how do things work here?” I ask, smiling more confidently now.
“Well, there’s a color system. If you're on red, you can't go to the cafeteria or to the activities they assign us, or outside. You only get put on red for self harm and having a melt down.”
“Self harm?” I ask, looking worriedly at her.
“A few people here are in this place for it.” She responds, smiling sadly. I nod, beckoning for her to continue.
“Yellow means you have some privileges. Like, you can go to the cafeteria and some activities, but nor outside. Green means you can do it all. We have therapy twice every day, not including one-on-one.” She continues, a smile gracing her pink lips.
“So, what are you in here for?” I ask casually, letting my hands swing by my side.
“Oh, uh, I have bipolar depression. I’m getting better with it though. What about you?” She asks, still smiling.
“I-I was raped a couple of months ago.” I choke out, making her head snap to mine. I felt insanely comfortable with her.
“Oh God, I’m sorry. That’s horrible.” She whispers, still looking at me as we reach a room filled with other patients, a tv, and lots of chairs and tables.
“It’s- I’m fine. I’m here to get better, right?” I answer, my voice slightly uneven. She nods, leading me over to a table with three other people.
“Hey guys, this is Frank,” She begins, making their heads turn toward us. “Frank, this is Cameron, Joe, and Ashley.” She introduces, pointing to each of them.
“Hey! You're the guy who plays guitar, right?” The Ashlee girl asks, a grin on her thick lips.
“Yeah, thats me.” I answer nervously, taking a seat.
“Cool. Its nice to meet you.” She says politely, still grinning. Her long red hair lays on her shoulder as her green eyes study mine. Everyone begins to conversate, but I ignore them.
I eventually snapped out of it when a nurse calls my name, making me jump about ten feet in the air.
Everyone at the table looks at me wide eyed, asking if I was okay and what had scared me. I assured them I was done, before getting up to go see what they wanted. They brought me to Mrs. Sullivan’s office.
As soon as I walked in, I felt insanely safe and comfortable. It was okay in there, and warm to.
“Hey Frank. How are you doing?” She asked, keeping her tone light, but professional.
“Honestly,” I said hesitantly. “Bad. I miss my home.” I tell her, trying my hardest not to freak out. She nodded knowingly, looking sympathetically at me.
“I understand. So, Frank, what made you admit yourself?” She asked, picking up a note pad. I took a deep breathe.
Be honest. You're here for help.
“I was raped.” I announce, trying to sound indifferent, but my voice comes out scared and fleeting. She blinks in surprise, horror and sympathy playing out on her face.
“How long ago?’ She asked, swallowing down her horror.
“About five months ago,” I began, bracing myself for what I was about to tell her. “Since then I had gotten into drugs. BUt I’ve been clean for about four or five weeks. A boy named Gerard has been helping me. I think, maybe, he’s my boyfriend.”
After that, it was almost easy to tell my story. She was calm and understanding, measuring her reactions. By the end of the session I was sure I could do this.
I could get better, I could properly be with Gerard.

Notes

I'm not doing a whole lot of chapters of Frank in the hospitial. He won't be in there for that long, just a heads up :)

xoxMay<3