Pretty Boy (You Make Me Want To Live)

you hate me (pt 2) (its happy again, ion like sad shit either)

They soon pulled up at the hospital, Jamia bidding him good luck and telling him know that she'd be waiting in her car.

Frank walked through the doors, suddenly feeling very exposed in the public eye as he wandered up to the reception desk.

"I'm here to see Gerard Way?"

"Name?" The receptionist asked, looking up through thick-rimmed glasses.

"Frank Iero."

"Room 258, down that corridor then fifth on your left."

Frank bobbed his head in thanks before following the directions until he came to the room, knocking on the door before pushing it open, only taking one step in before being pushed straight out again by an angry-looking Mikey.

"I swear to God you better have a good reason as to why you haven't been visiting." Mikey hissed before shoving past Frank and leaving the corridor.

Frank pushed the door open again, stepping into the room with a bowed head, almost worried about the site that may have been in front of him.

"Belle?" a voice croaked from the bed. It didn't sound like Gerard and Frank couldn't bear to look up, but forced himself to anyway.

Gerard looked a lot better, he had clearly lost weight and his skin was pale but the bruise had almost completely gone and the cuts were faded looking more like scratches.

"What happened?" Gerard asked, his head tilting to the side but was quickly upright again as his hands flew up, pressing against his temples.

"What do you mean?" Frank frowned, he could be asking the same question.

"I thought you liked to wear girls clothes? Don't tell me I've imagined that too." He frowned, slumping down slightly against the pillows he was propped up against.

"No... no you didn't imagine that..." Frank murmured, moving to sit on the plastic chair to the side of Gerard's bed.

"What do you mean imagined?"

"I... Well I- nevermind, its not important. I liked your clothes, why- what happened to you?" Gerard asked, changing the subject again.

"Long story short I haven't showered or left the house since Christmas." Frank shrugged, fiddling with a thread on his jeans. He had been right about the dreads, and he truly looked awful.

"Oh... Why?"

"I.. uh... I-"

"Was it because of me?" Gerard asked, taking Frank off guard. He nodded, looking down at his lap and chewing on his thumb.

Gerard's hand moved from where it was resting on the bed to pull away Franks hand from his mouth.

"Stop that."

"Huh?"

"You do that when you get... anxious, I think the word is," Gerard explained, "And I don't like it when you hurt yourself."

"Oh."

"Ah, and I should probably add, um, since the accident they said I might have a bit of memory loss... I hit my head pretty hard apparently and uh, they said anything short term- like last couple of months- might be a bit hazy y'know?"

"Oh- So you know that we're-"

"Yes I know we're dating Frankie-" He paused as Frank opened his mouth, "And yes I know we uh," he laced his fingers together, "Y'know.. on Christmas eve."

"Have you actually forgotten anything then?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but come to think of it, I probably wouldn't be aware of it if I had forgotten, y'know? it's not like I'd know that I knew something..."