★ not edited!! feel free to point out any mistakes! ★
EVERYTHING HAD BEEN quiet ever since Frank pulled that trigger on himself.
Hurley had suspended him from work again until he passed a psych evaluation. Which he obviously hadn't taken because he knew he wasn't really ready to be back yet. That didn't mean he would spend another two months wallowing alone, it simply meant he needed a couple of weeks to get a grip on himself.
It was like Frank was stood on the brink of something he couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on his shoulders and he struggled to take even a single step forward. It was too much. All of it. And it took all of him to somehow keep moving. But every step cost him more. The darkness grew darker; the pain grew sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in intensity and Frank honestly began to wonder if things would ever get better.
Frank knew depression had a floor, a rock bottom- and finding it he supposed, was a curse. Because once you did inevitably hit it, it felt as if you should stay down unless you somehow find a reason to get up.
And it wasn't as if Frank really had a reason at the moment so he was living simply off of fucking assumption.
And it wasn't as if it was really working in his favour. Everyone was being more than weird with him. Bob, Ray, and even Gerard. They all treated him like fragile glass that would shatter at any moment and have a breakdown, and if Frank was being honest; it kind of hurt.
He had a moment but... he was still Frank.
Though in all fairness all Frank did nowadays was sleep. He had become completely numb to his nightmares so it wasn't too much of a problem anymore. After having experienced one in real life they didn't really have their same effect. And since Frank still had a quite heavy phobia of guns, by now everyone from work knew to leave their guns at home when they came to visit him.
Frank wasn't actually too keen on company anyway though, so in the last two weeks he had only seen them a couple of times.
Lindsey had started calling him everyday again, but after Frank became void and snappy with her she stopped. Now she called every three days.
Frank had also put on some shitty version of suicide-watch, where Bob apparently had to check in on him every three hours. Frank hated it, to say the least, but he went along with it.
There was a gentle knock on Frank's door, making his neck strain from where he had been lying down, pillow to his chest.
"Frank?" He heard Bob's voice, Frank responding only with a soft grunt.
"Frank, I... I have some news." Bob said quietly as he walked closer to him.
"My um, my Uncle passed away last night." Bob said softly, clearing his throat to clear it of emotion.
Frank slowly sat up, looking at him expectantly with the same blank stare he always wore.
"And his funeral's in Chicago," Bob said, picking at the cuticles around his nails, "So... I'm going to be with my family for the next week."
Frank nodded softly, not saying anything.
"But I don't want you to be alone for that time," Bob said as he glanced at Frank, "Um, Ellie offered to stay here while I'm—"
"No." Frank whispered immediately, because now he most definitely needed to speak, or else this movement would be passed and he would rather go to fucking Therapy than have Ellie of all people watch him like a hawk for a week.
"What?" Bob asked, staring at Frank with furrowed eyebrows.
"I don' need to be looked after." Frank muttered, "I'll be fine."
Bob sighed loudly and clenched his jaw, clearly close to yelling but biting his tongue. He exhaled through his nose slowly, calming himself down.
"Look, bud, please just... let this happen," Bob said softer than before, "I don't want you getting hurt while I'm gone."
Frank held his gaze, eventually just sighing quietly and nodding weakly. "Fine."
"Great," Bob said with a weak smile, "I'll tell Ellie you—"
"Could it," Frank cleared his throat as he looked down, "Could it be someone else watching me?"
"Like who?" Bob asked with a raised eyebrow, making Frank shrug.
"Someone who doesn't have a vagina?" Frank mumbled, making Bob roll his eyes.
"That narrows it down, thanks, Frank." Bob grumbled, rubbing his head. "Maybe Ray'd be okay with doing it."
Frank shook his head, "Ray's too busy to watch over a fucking cunt like me."
Bob frowned at Frank's words and pat his thigh, "We'll figure it out, bud. Just um, maybe get out of bed. You smell like balls."
Frank rolled his eyes, "Thanks."
Bob smiled a little, kissing his forehead, "Someone had to tell you."
✩ ✩
"Okay."
That had been Gerard's response when Bob had gone behind Frank's back to ask him to watch him for the next week.
Frank could barely fucking believe it.
This was not what he fucking meant when he wanted someone with a dick to watch over him every now and then.
Him and Gerard hadn't even been on a second date and now they were temporarily going to live together? Frank couldn't think of a worse idea. And yet it was still happening according to Bob, who was packing his suitcase.
"Stop your whining, Frank. He's going to sleep in my room and he's going to be at work for most of the day, so you won't even fucking—"
"How did you even get in contact with him?" Frank asked incredulously, glaring at Bob unwaveringly.
Bob shrugged, "I asked that one guy with black hair from your precinct. Brandon or something."
Frank groaned, "When are you—"
"Tomorrow." Bob answered, "Now quit bitching and take a shower. I don't know why this is that big of a deal— he's basically your boyfriend."
"It's a fucking big deal because we've barely gone on one date and now he's going to have to look after me for a week," Frank growled, "He's gonna fucking dump me after he sees how I—"
"He won't." Bob said certainly before sighing, "He's not a psychopath, Frank."
Frank just clenched his jaw as he got up off the bed, using his cane to walk back to his bedroom. He wasn't too fond of it, not in a long shot, but it was definitely better than the crutches, and he'd been making subtle progress with walking so he was almost back to normal physically-speaking.
He just prayed he kept himself under control whilst Gerard was there, because the last thing he wanted was Gerard seeing how fucking disfuncional and miserable he was. He didn't want Gerard to leave him... Frank didn't think he could take all that grief.
And the next day, Frank was laying in bed with a pillow over his face, thinking about Bob's absence and his own soon-to-be-ruined relationship. He let his lungs struggle with the pillow across his nose but not enough to be painful. He found himself doing that a lot.
That was when someone had knocked on his door, but he knew it wasn't Bob because Bob had left three hours ago and so of course this was Gerard. But Frank really didn't have the mental strength to get up and actually greet him, so he stayed put.
Then he heard the creaking of his door opening, followed by a few light footsteps.
"Frank?" Gerard's voice rang through the room quietly, "Frank, you okay?"
Frank slowly moved the pillow from his face as he nodded curtly, making a quite hesitant, and quite fake smile come over his face.
"Hi.." He said, reaching down carefully to put his hand in Frank's cheek, "I'm uh, I'm just unpacking next door if you um, if you need me. 'Kay?"
Frank nodded again, knowing that Gerard was honeying his tone only because he was scared of Frank's take on all of this. Frank recognised that tone, because every single fucking person in his life at that point in time used it. Even Mikey.
Gerard looked at Frank for a moment before he sighed and took his hand off of Frank's face, stepping back to walk out of the room.
And Frank let him, only glancing briefly at Gerard's worried and sympathetic face.
And when the door clicked shut Frank shifted to lay on his side, glaring at the Stephan King novel Bob had been edging him to read. He said it would take his mind off of everything, but Frank hadn't let himself think about the whole idea of reading too much, and he supposed maybe be could give it a try.
But in all fairness he hypothetically could also shove a fist in his ass and call the pizza place down the street simultaneously, so he didn't want to simply do everything he thought was a possibility.
Frank weakly reached over to trace the spine of the hardcover book with his index finger.
That was when he heard it. The muffled voice in the other room. The walls separating Bob's and Frank's room weren't thick at all, quite thin actually, which was why Frank bought noise cancelling headphones after the first three months of Bob and Ellie getting together.
But the sound he heard wasn't disturbing or worth cutting off all noise over, it was singing.
The same kind of singing Gerard had done when Frank had seen him in the park. Though this time he wasn't singing Iggy Pop, or well, from what Frank could hear he wasn't.
It sounded like... The Beatles.
Well, from what Frank's strained ears could decipher.
"I'd like to be, under the sea," He heard quietly, "In an octopus' garden in the shade,"
Frank looked away from the book and stared at the wall separating him from Gerard.
He glared at the plain wall, the sound of Gerard's serenity sparking something in his innards. And it was as if invisible holes were poked in his skin, and his tension was leeching out through them.
Frank continued to listen, his eyes unblinking as he heard Gerard's muffled voice.
And when he was nearing the end of the song, Frank could feel his guts tightening, though not in grief for once. They were tightening for... a reason completely beyond him.
"In an octopus' garden with you." Gerard finished quietly, making the sparking feeling in Frank's stomach subside as silence filled the air of the apartment once again.
Frank reached over for the book then.
Maybe he could give it a chance.
✩ ✩
"Frankie?"
Frank's eyes flickered up from the page he had been reading to Gerard who was standing by his opened door. He was dressed only in sweatpants and a loose shirt, his eyes watching Frank carefully.
Frank stared at him expectantly.
Gerard ran a hand through his short black hair, "I was wondering if you could um... show me where everything is?"
Frank looked ahead blankly for a moment before nodding softly. He folded he corner of the page, closing the book as he pulled the covers off of him, his body shuddering at the feeling.
He reached for his cane, pushing himself off the bed as he wordlessly walked past Gerard, signalling for him to follow.
Gerard did, and Frank could tell he was questioning Frank's cane, but he didn't say anything.
That was something Frank had come to really like about Gerard. He could sense when Frank didn't want to talk about something or when he wanted to be left alone, and he didn't push any topics onto Frank. And Frank really appreciated that.
Frank showed Gerard around the kitchen and the living room. He showed him how the showers worked, how the TV remote worked, and when they were finished Frank was sat on his usual stool, the counter separating him from Gerard who was stood playing with the bottom of his shirt.
"So," Gerard asked quietly, "Do you want anything to eat? You haven't eaten anything since I got here."
Frank just shrugged his shoulder weakly, as Gerard trailed off, still not having said much to Gerard apart from when he really had to.
Gerard sighed at Frank's silence, "Frank, c'mon. Please don't ignore me..."
Frank looked at him for a moment before letting out a soft breath, opening his mouth only to slowly close it again. His tongue felt dry. His throat felt as if someone had shoved a handful of itching powder inside.
Gerard frowned when Frank stayed silent again, hurt flickering over his eyes for long enough for Frank to catch sight of it.
He cleared his throat, "Fine I, I guess I'll just head to bed. G'night."
Frank watched Gerard's eyes glance down at his hands, already making his way to the hallway leading to Bob's bedroom.
And Frank buried his head in his arms when Gerard was out of sight, his chest cramping in not just self hatred but also sadness.