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Frank's thoughts echoed in the back of his mind the entire ride. Everything felt like static, his weary grip on the steering wheel not making anything better. The drive was quite short, though that might just be because he's been to this hospital so much. He put his truck in park, fingers hesitating to pull the keys out of the ignition. Eventually, he pulled them out, the keys jingling as he held them from the keychain of his dog, Lois. He had gotten it printed at some craft store years ago, but it was small enough to keep with his keys. He took out his phone, texting his roommate to feed Lois—but only fill her bowl up halfway for dinner, as she will get sick if she has more than that. After that, he cleared his notifications and shut his phone off, letting out a well needed sigh. He kicked the door open, locking it as he walked towards the quaint hospital.
Frank never admits himself, it had always been his mother. Though being twenty two, you don't have the option of her bringing you everywhere and doing the paperwork. He felt bad for coming so late, there were only a few cars aside from his. Every step felt heavy, he was thinking too much about walking and now it felt like he was manually putting one foot forward over the other. Though he reached the glass double doors fast, grabbing onto the pull bar to open one.
Frank was blinded as soon as he stepped foot in, it hadn't felt this bright before. Although, it was 9:00, the florescent bar lights on the ceiling were not helping with the draining headache. He treads with importance, though his face showed otherwise. He looked absolutely miserable, he could tell from the way the receptionist looked at him. Putting his hands on the reception desk to hold his balance, he looked at the receptionist and took a deep breath.
"Frank Iero, 10/31/81. I'm here to admit myself," Frank said, his voice lacking emotion. He remembered feeling embarrassed the first time he came here, though it definitely felt weirder being ten years older and the same administration seeing you so vulnerable. He watched the receptionist type into her computer, looking a bit concerned now.
"Do you have any fresh injuries right now? If so, we need to treat those now," She asked calmly, looking up from her computer to look at Frank. He nodded, watching the receptionist type more into her computer. Despite the lack of people in the lobby, he felt as if everyone's eyes were on him. It made chills haunt his spine, though he didn't move. "Alright, I'll have you situated in an exam room. We only have one doctor on duty tonight, but he's really nice. I'm sure you'll like him," she said, getting up from her seat to show him the way there.
"Okay," Frank muttered, dragging out the 'O' for a few seconds. He walked with the receptionist down the familiar halls of the medical ward. She stopped at the third door, the letters "EXAM ROOM 1" labeled on the side of it. She opened the door slowly, flipping the light switch while moving out the door frame so Frank could walk in. He did so, taking a seat on the cot on the side of the room.
"He should be with you shortly, I'll make sure he has your previous papers," the receptionist explained softly, closing the door. Frank could hear her footsteps get further away, making him slouch. He let himself look around the room, everything in the same place as last time. The walls were painted off white, the only pop of color in the room being the cot he sat on. It was a dull, dark blue, something he had seen in many hospitals before. The clock on the wall felt broken, he was sure the faculty had left already. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the door knob twisting open.
He was middle aged, grey hairs mixed in with greasy auburn strands. It was hard for Frank to focus on hair for long, as the guy was in a dress. It wasn't inherently bad, the white dress had embroidered medical symbols dotting the fabric. He wasn't disturbed by it, as he had better things to deal with, but it caught him off guard. He hadn't seen this nurse before, either new or from the kid wing of the hospital.
"Hello Frank, i'm Gerard. I'll be your primary nurse for your stay," Gerard spoke calmly, a faint grin set on his face. Frank nodded, watching carefully as Gerard walked closer. He had a clipboard, likely for his information and previous care. "Are you alright with me cleaning your wounds? I need to check for signs of infection," Gerard requests, holding the clipboard away from his face to get a good look at Frank. Franks clothes feel stuck to his body, palms getting sweaty despite the chill of the room.
"Yeah, that's fine," Frank responds, slipping his jacket off. He had bandaged the deeper cuts prior to arriving, not wanting to bleed on his clothes. The bandages were faulty, loose in some areas. Gerard notices them quickly, reaching in a drawer near the cot. He pulls out a roll of gauze, medical tape—likely to hold the gauze in place, and sterile adhesive strips. Frank attempts to keep his breathing stable as Gerard unrolls the worn gauze on his arms. His cuts had stopped bleeding by now, though the skin was crusted, likely dried blood smeared from the gauze.
Frank watches Gerard put antiseptic cream to a q-tip, before gently grabbing his arm from underneath. He lifted his arm, slowly applying the cream to his arm. It didn't sting much, though Gerard could tell he was uncomfortable with the feeling.
"Sorry, should've warned you it might burn," Gerard voiced, tone apologetic. He loosened his grip on Frank's arm, instinctively stroking it with his thumb. Frank didn't say anything more, the way he caressed his arm made the current situation fade away from his mind. It was then he started to process Gerard, had he looked this attractive when he walked in? His dress wasn't extremely short, but it curved over his thighs in a way that made Frank heat up. He hoped he just looked zoned out, Gerard didn't need more things to deal with currently.
Frank let Gerard wrap the gauze around his limb, the cream seeping into it as he covered his arm. He appreciated that Gerard didn't wrap them too tight, the other nurses usually disregarded comfort to make the job quicker. The soft grip felt soothing, he was being careful not to press on any of the cuts, despite most of them being already wrapped. Had he memorized where they were? The thought made Frank's cheeks glow pink, Gerard unfortunately noticed this time.
"Were you running a fever before you came in? Your face is burning up," Gerard questioned, eyes full of worry as his unoccupied hand moves up to his face. He places the back of his hand on Frank's forehead, making him tense up before relaxing soon after. Why was he so overworked? He's done this countless times before. He shouldn't let some stupid crush on Gerard effect his care. He should be thankful Gerard was willing to help him this late at night.
"Don't think so," Frank mumbled, eyes down. He was still staring at his new bandages, the way they were carefully wrapped around the curves of his bones. Gerard removed his hand shortly after his weak reply, drawing his attention to his other arm.
"Are you thinking about something?" Gerard asked, a hint of curiosity underneath the professional tone. Frank sighed, watching as he applied more antiseptic to his other arm. What was he supposed to even reply with? He was here for a reason, but was Gerard talking about his flushed cheeks? Did he catch on?
"I understand it's your job," Frank started, "But seriously, why? Its late at night, you probably haven't gotten good sleep, why stay here?" He watched Gerard pause, fingers still wrapped around his arm. "I'm sure the receptionist could have done something like this, if anything I could," Frank continues, his tone getting quieter as Gerard keeps still. Had he said too much? Why would he even say something like that, Gerard isn't a therapist. He's just trying to do his job, and he's just getting in the way. He felt tears threaten to fall, why was he so emotional?
"I care about you, Frank. I've read through your files before, during my training," Gerard spoke, still not moving. His eyes were on Frank, and he could feel them. "I would work until I drop dead if it meant I could help you, help people." Frank could tell his words were sincere, it gave him the tiniest bit of courage to look up at him. His eyes were soft, sympathetic but honest. It was something he'd never seen before, at least not directed at him. Just those simple words, even in his current state, made a small grin spread on his face. He felt Gerard continue, his smile also apparent. Everything felt less tense, the gauze wrapping around his other arm bringing the same comfort as the last. He was bandaged up, Frank knew the next step was getting situated in his room—especially this late at night.
Frank hopped off the cot, muttering, "Thank you," as they began to walk down the familiar halls. Gerard stayed close, walking him down to the bedrooms. He found an empty one, not too far down the hall, and placed his paperwork in the basket hanging from the door. Frank watched him fiddle with keys, unlocking the door. He walked into the dark room, eyes adjusting quickly as Gerard flipped the light switch. He stared at the familiar bedding, though it looked a lot better than last time.
"I'm gonna head out for the night. The receptionist will bring your clothes and such hopefully by the next hour," Gerard explained softly. Frank tried to hide the sadness crawling up on him, did he really have to leave? He must've noticed, he watched Gerard walk closer, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "By the time you wake up i'll be back, ready to check up on you. I promise," Gerard soothed, his voice smooth like butter in Frank's ears. He nodded softly, relaxing as he gave his shoulder a tight squeeze, before walking back out. "Goodnight, Frankie," Gerard chirped, closing the door.
Frank sighed, kicking his shoes off while hopping on the bed. He peered at the alarm clock on the tiny bedside dresser. His eyes got tired just from looking at the time, 10:00? It felt much longer, nonetheless he could feel himself start to drift. The thought of Gerard being back when he wakes up makes it harder for his eyes to stay open. The blankets felt so soft under him, pulling them closer in attempt to get comfortable. Sleep washed over him soon after, worries drifting away, even if just for a little while, in the realm of his dreams.