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Everything was fuzzy. Gerard’s entire body tingled, not an unpleasant sensation, just… there. He blinked, trying to focus, trying to remember what had happened and where he was now.
He tried to sit up, but something was wrapped around his chest, holding him back.
…what?
And then, in a violent, sudden burst, everything came flooding back.
The cemetery, the book, Frank’s blood, James Whitmore.
Yet, he was somehow alive?
And then he realized he could move.
He could blink, he could wiggle his fingers, he could talk if he wanted to. The restraints kept him from sitting up fully, but at the moment, Gerard couldn’t possibly care less.
“Oh, shit, you’re awake!” came a voice to his left, and Gerard beamed as he recognized who it was.
Frank.
He was alive.
He was alive.
Suddenly, Frank’s face filled his vision as he leaned over Gerard, shit-eating grin right back on his face, where it belonged. It felt like a lifetime ago that Gerard had last seen that expression.
But wait…
“What happened?” Gerard asked, his voice raspy, but at least it was his own.
The smile faded from Frank’s face, replaced by a sorrowful expression.
“You, uh, James, went fucking crazy,” he started. “You left me there to die once you couldn’t get any more blood. Somebody found me, they had heard you scream, so I survived. But I thought it was too late for you.
“James went into some type of like, feeding frenzy, attacking literally anyone he saw. You almost got locked up in a mental ward because of it, but the police saw the veins and shit and decided you should at least go to the hospital first. The agreement was you would get medical help, as long as you were restrained, which I guess was fair.
“That was around the time I woke up,” Frank continued. “The police had a lot of questions, so I told them the truth. I’m not sure they fully believed me, but you’re not in a mental ward or a jail, so I guess they must not have thought I was really lying either.”
Gerard watched a tear roll down the man’s face as his voice broke.
“I’m sorry, Gee. I never should have dragged you out to that graveyard. I never should have touched that book. I never should have made you read from it.” He stood suddenly. “I’m going to go get some coffee.”
“Wait,” Gerard called after him. He wasn’t ready for Frank to leave, not yet. “Can you stay?”
Frank turned, an eyebrow raised.
“It wasn’t your fault, Frank,” Gerard assured him. “You couldn’t have predicted any of this happening. So shut up and get your ass back over here, because I’m not ready to let you go so soon. Not after I almost saw you die.”
Frank nodded hesitantly, and resumed his position next to Gerard.
“Next time let's just go out for dinner or something, okay?” Frank joked, smile returning. “Eat something other than people.”
“If you insist,” Gerard grinned, and even though he was strapped to a hospital bed, even though he nearly killed his boyfriend, he was undeniably happy.