You're My Favourite Sound

He hadn't shaved in days. Stubble covered his face, casting a dark shadow which matched the circles under his eyes. He sat quietly in the corner of the studio, his eyelids hanging heavily over his glassy hazel eyes, which were the only things visible from underneath the ratty baseball cap that covered his slightly oily hair.

To say the least, Frank was a wreck.

It'd been three days and still he hadn't seen October. It was Billie Joe or Ethan that'd told him to come back the way he came. So although MCR had finished recording their new project and the album was good to go, he'd been spending most of his time at the studio, taking the anger and sorrow out on his instrument. He didn't really have anywhere else to go. His apartment reminded him of her.

The more he thought about things, the more his breathing began to increase in speed. His stomach would grow nauseous and he would begin to feel weak. It had been a day or so since he had eaten something, maybe that was it.

His arms could no longer support the weight of his guitar and it fell to the ground. Frank closed his eyes tightly and sat back in his chair. His head began to pound. He knew this feeling, it was the one he got when he felt his life spiraling out of control. All he could do now was sit and try to let it pass.

Frank wasn't sure how long he had been sitting in the studio. Long enough for a receptionist to stumble in and mumble several apologies, before finally shaking him out of his daze.

He looked at her, unphased. She was young, probably eighteen, but she looked younger. She looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She had on a tight jean skirt that showed off her long, flawless tan legs. Her t-shirt proudly emblazoned 'Abercrombie & Fitch' logos and she gave him a soft smile when his eyes finally focused on her.

"Mr. Iero, I'm sorry, I didn't really want to disturb you, but I was starting to get a little
concerned," she said, resting her hand on his shoulder where it had been placed to wake him.

"Why?" Frank muttered, feeling increasingly uncomfortable the longer her hand lingered.

"Well," she said, sitting down next to him, crossing her legs at the ankles, "You've been sitting here for about two hours now, and everyone else has gone home. It's a Friday night, shouldn't a rockstar like you have big plans?"

"No," he said plainly. "What time is it?"

"It's almost 7 o'clock. I was just about to go, but well, if you don't have plans, then maybe you could go with me..." She shot him one of those really amazingly seductive smiles, the undeniable kind. Even for as much as Frank felt irritated with girls like her, a smile like that could make his stomach flutter. She was attractive, yes, but she wasn't what he wanted, he knew that for sure.

"Actually, I have some stuff to... uh, attend to," he mumbled, standing up abruptly. He thought about saying 'thank you' for waking him up, but then he ended up turning and flying out the door.

The next thing Frank knew, he was standing at the doors of the hospital, wringing his baseball hat in his hands. He made his way inside and to the reception, where he told the lady behind the desk the reason he was there.

She simply nodded and said, "Go on through, Mr. Iero," already knowing why.

Frank strolled down the hall, determind to see October this time. He didn't care if Billie Joe or Ethan told him to get out, he was not leaving until he saw her. But to his surprise, when he turned the corner to come to the room, there was no one outside it, and when he peeked through the window, there was no one inside. It was unguarded.

He slowly stepped over to the small window and peered inside, his glossy hazel eyes landing on his heart ache.

She was lying under the white sheets of the wheel bed, her closed eyelids smudged darkly with the make up, the few multicoloured bangles still around her wrists, her earlier straightened hair now wavy. She looked so peaceful, just lying there, like she had nothing to worry about, like she wasn't a girl with a mixed up mind.

Frank swallowed the forming ball down his throat, gripping his sweating hands together as he got up and made his way through the colourless door, into the colourless room.

The only noise in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor that was plugged up to her. Other wires were coming out of her also, it made him feel queazy to see her like this.

Softly walking over to her bedside, Frank looked down at October's sleeping face. She looked so weak, so fragile. This was not the face he had grown to known, this was a different face. It was a paler face.

Frank shook away the heart squeezing memories. He sat down in the chair that remained by the bed and removed his hat, placing it in his lap, before his eyes moved to the oxygen tubes in October's nose, keeping her alive, and he winced.

"Crazy, right?" He flinched at the young voice coming from the doorway and turned his head to Joey. "... Seeing her like this, wires plugged up to her, helping her to breathe."

Frank watched as Joey walked over to the small table on the opposite side of the bed and began fiddling with the small stereo sat there.

"What are you doing?" Frank asked, his voice struggling to make much noise.

"You hear about that boy in England about six years ago? The one that was in a coma and his parents played 'American Idiot' and he woke up?"

"Um, no... I don't think I heard about that one."

"Well I tried it, didn't work. I even played 'Insomniac' and still nothing, dad said she never left the house without that album when she was a little kid, said she wanted to keep guard of it or something..." Joey trailed off, shaking his head gently, "Anyway, tonight it's 'Nimrod'."

Frank continued to watch as Joey placed the album in the player and pressed the play button.

"You really think that'll help?" he asked as the drum beat of 'Nice Guys Finish Last' started up.

"Music's been her passion her whole life," Joey pointed out, "It's in her soul, and if music can't wake it up then what can?"

The older man shrugged in agreement, "Well have you tried Black Flag? The Ramones?"

"I haven't managed to get around the whole CD collecion yet, I mean, she's got a library of CDs. But Green Day's the band she can't live without, you know?" he smirked slightly. He grabbed the other chair in the room, placed in the corner, and sat himself at his older sister's bedside, next to Frank, and started tapping his fingers lightly on his knee to the beat of the music.

"You sure you wanna be in here with me?" Frank asked quietly, looking down to his lap.

"Ethan's being blamed for throwing her out into the rain at 1.30 in the morning, so it's not just you getting all this," the now twelve year old began, "But anyway, I don't blame you or Ethan... I blame whoever wanted a bed delivered so late at night..."

Hidden behind the wall outside the room, Adrienne stood, listening in on the conversation between her son and her daughter's high school love. She slowly peered in a little, not wanting to be seen, to find out how this was really affecting the older male.

He didn’t look like the 'collected' Frank that she knew, sitting next to her son. He had very noticeable stubble, which he was rubbing furiously, and she guessed that he hadn’t showered in at least a day or two. His clothes were wrinkled like maybe he hadn’t changed out of them in a while.

"I like Ethan," Joey said, "But to be honest, I always thought he was a bit of a wang."

Frank let out a sharp, amused breath, "Really?" Joey shrugged.

"I may not know about relationships or the meaning of 'true love' or whatever... but I know you're the one for my sister."

"You're the only one who seems to think so," replied Frank sadly.

"Don't worry about dad," Joey shook his head, "He'll come around, right? He always does eventually."

A violin played softly, and then the rhythm of the guitar, bass and drums began to play the beginning of 'Hitchin' A Ride'.

"She's gonna make it through this, you know," the boy with his father's short natural auburn/brown curls and mother's big brown eyes spoke. Frank looked beside him.

"You really think so, huh?"

"I believe it," he insisted, "I mean, I'm never gonna give up hope. Never."

Frank smiled for the first time in days, "Me neither." He ruffled the young boy's hair and Joey did the same to Frank, something he'd always do back to October every time his older sister would do it to him.

Adrienne, feeling her eyes stinging for what felt like the hundreth time, turned and left the boys with her daughter for a while longer. She made her way outside into the fresh Californian air and sat down on a metal bench, keeping a firm grip on the edge of the seat so her knuckles went white, to try and stop herself shaking.

A new tear rolled down her left cheek, and she would've let out the other thousand or so, but instead she wiped it away and stood, heading to the nearest convenience store and buying a packet of cigarettes along with a lighter.

Sitting back down on that same bench, Adrienne lit up one of the brand new sticks and breathed out a long, relieved sigh. She hadn't had this familiar experience since that night she and Billie were on the verge of breaking up back when they lived in Berkely. She promised herself she wouldn't light up ever again, but... fuck it.

Fuck everything.

After three and a half cigarettes, Adrienne finally went back into the hospital to find both Frank and Joey laying on October's bed, either side of her, eyes closed. She couldn't help her lips as they curved upwards in awe. She didn't want to ruin the picture, but it was getting late and Joey had an appointment with the dentist tomorrow morning.

Life must go on.

"Joey, sweetie," Adrienne called gently to her son, running her fingers through his mop of hair. The young boy stirred and opened his eyes tiredly, inhaling a deep breath through his nose. "Come on, baby, it's time to go."

"Okay, mom," he whispered, sitting up and moving his legs to hang over the edge of the bed. He watched as his mother walked round the opposite side and raise her hand to touch Frank's shoulder. "Mom, no!" Joey hissed, causing her to look up at him abruptly, "This is the first time he's slept since it happened." Sighing, Adrienne dropped her hand and ran it back through her hair instead.

"Okay," she nodded, "Let's go."

Joey hopped down from the bed and gradually left the room, Adrienne following behind, and she began closing the door over, but stopped just before it shut. Her eyes flicked over to Frank's sleeping body. He was laid facing October on her right, his nose in and exhaling onto her shoulder with his casted arm gently over her stomach.

The mother smiled one more time, before closing the door fully and walking away.