You're My Favourite Sound

Joshi and Hazel had just left the hospital, Billie Joe a little while before that, leaving Frank alone with October for another night. He was sat in his usual place with one hand wrapped around hers when the nurse walked in.

"How're you doing?" she asked with a genuine smile after closing the door behind her.

"I'm good," Frank smiled in return to the nurse, "How're you?"

"Pretty exhausted, if I'm honest, it's been a long day," she replied, coming over to the bed.

"Glad to be going home then?" inquired Frank.

"Yes," she sighed in relief, before walking over to the television set on the other side of the room. "Have you used the TV today? We seem to have had some problems with them on this floor."

"Nope, not today," he answered as she tried to turn it on.

"Hmm, this one seems to be down, too," she mumbled. Frank left her to fumble around with the TV whilst he turned back to October.

"Seems to know what she's doing," he whispered to her with a shrug. He imagined the smirk forming on her face that he knew would've come if she was awake, and softly smiled to himself. He brought up his free hand and began to play with her hair, twisting the chocolate waves between his fingers and calmly letting the locks slip from them.

But then something happened.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

He felt pressure from their holding hands. It was just for a second and wasn't very hard, but Frank felt October squeeze his hand. A small gasp escaped his lips and his heart stopped for a moment.

"October?" he whispered. He stood from the chair and moved his face closer to hers. "October?" he called.

Turning away from the TV, the nurse gawked at the younger man questionningly as he continued to call the young girl's name. As she walked back over, Frank looked up with wide eyes.

"She squeezed my hand!" he cried, "She squeezed my fucking hand! She must be waking up, right?"

The nurse frowned and stepped towards the heart monitor as Frank fussed around October, stroking her hair and squeezing her hand in return. His rib cage was pounding and the grin wouldn't leave his face. She was waking up!

"Mr. Iero," the nurse sighed lightly, causing Frank to look at her. She smiled back at him sadly. "October didn't squeeze your hand."

"Yes, she did," he nodded, "She did, I felt it just now!" The nurse shook her head.

"I've seen this happen before," she said, "Partners of loved ones in a coma, after so long they... they start to hallucinate."

Frank frowned, "Hallucinate? No, no, this happened."

"That's what they all say," the nurse continued, "Mr. Iero, if she'd squeezed your hand, her heart rate would have gone up by a mile, but if anything... it's dropped... If you want something so much, you can start to see it in your mind. Don't worry, it's perfectly normal, it's brought on by stress and lack of sleep."

"But..." breathed Frank, "But I was so sure I..." The nurse gently placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him that same sad smile.

"When was the last time you managed a decent night's sleep?"

Frank shrugged, "I got a few hours last night."

"Do you see my point?" she asked. He said nothing and looked back down to his love, still unawake and still unmoving. "I'm sorry, Mr. Iero."

After the nurse had gone home for the night, Frank plopped himself back down in the chair, extremely disappointed. He mentally kicked himself for thinking such a thing, for bringing his hopes up, just to be shattered.

Maybe he was hallucinating.

A surprising visitor showed up not long after, startling Frank by dangling a key in front of his face. Looking up at the new presence, he found himself stuck as Ethan stared down at him. The two had never crossed paths at the hospital, they hadn't even seen each other since Ethan busted Frank's lip for a second time.

"This is my key to the apartment," the youngest of the cousins announced, the silver key still dangling from his hand, "It's yours." Frank looked at it, then back to Ethan.

"Why are you giving it to me?" Frank questionned.

"Do with it what you want. I can't live there anymore."

The older man just stared up at him dumbfounded.

"Take it!" Ethan pushed. Frank did as he was told and kept it safe in the palm of his hand, his fingers closed around it.

"Where are you gonna go?" he asked.

"Back to NJ," replied Ethan, "I'm gonna live with Aunt Silvie for a while and then... I don't know."

"You don't have to do this, Ethan," Frank shook his head.

"No, I do," he replied quickly, "It's the only way I'm gonna be able to get past this."

Frank hung his head in shame, shutting his eyes in guilt. He must have looked like the biggest asshole to his family to do that to one of its members.

"I just came to give you the key, and to wish you a happy life once you get over this," Ethan said, "So goodbye, Frank."

Frank heard him begin to walk away and quickly turned around in the chair.

"Ethan, please..." he called towards the door, making his cousin stop in the doorway. "I'm so sorry."

The youngest slowly turned to look at his older cousin's glazed eyes, pleading back at him.

"She was better off with you..." he said quietly, "I was just the loser she felt sorry for."

And with that, Ethan Stone was out on both Frank and October's life forever.

Around a half hour later, Frank stood from the chair again, holding onto the key. He unsteadily leaned his face down to October's head and pressed his lips softly to the top of it, before whispering into her hair.

"Goodnight, baby."

Frank found himself at the apartment, walking down the hall and to the bedroom. He flicked the switch, sending light around the room, and froze when he saw her famous Doctor Marten boots lying carelessly in front of the closet. There were a few of her college books scattered around the cream painted room, her dusty bookcase against the back wall, and all her eye make up sprawled along the surface of the wooden desk, just the way she had left it after getting ready for the wedding.

She loved getting her eyes done up, it brought out the emerald hidden in them. She never did it perfectly, like all those models and stars, but that was why it was perfect to Frank.

He frowned, shrugging away all the painful memories. He chucked the make up back in its case and put it into the top drawer of the desk, where he knew she'd always kept it.

There was nothing left that belonged to Ethan.

Something fell to the floor next to Frank and he realised it was October's black Adeline hoodie, it had slipped off the desk chair. He slid down to sit cross legged on the carpeted floor with his back against the closed desk drawers, and picked it up. He closed his eyes and swallowed silently. Her scent still reaked from it. Frank felt more tears forming in his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time since she slipped into her permanent sleep.

Forcing them away, he stood, folded the hoodie and laid it on the desk.

Frank was hunched over his 6th or 7th glass of Jack Daniel's he'd found in a cupboard, sitting at the kitchen table with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. He remembered that October didn't like him taking pills, and let out a light snort.

She couldn't exactly stop him now, could she?

The table was almost covered in mail, mail that was addressed to her, mail that was waiting to be opened by its rightful owner. Frank read the small label on the pill bottle, sleeping pills. He thought maybe he should swallow them all, one by one.

If he could sleep forever, he could forget about everything.

It felt like hell.

No pain could even come close to how he was feeling. He had failed to tell the others about his dangerous thoughts. He didn’t want to be saved, not by his best friends, not by the homeless lady on the street corner, not by anyone. Fuck people. Fuck love and fuck you if you believe in either of the first two, that was his motto.

What was the point? He was no good without her.

Giving up was for the weak, and he knew he could be strong to get through this, but it seemed like the only way to stop all of it.

Frank threw the pills across the table until they rolled off the edge and hit the wooden floor with a crash. His head was so screwed up he couldn't even think straight. He was thinking like a maniac and he sure as hell didn't like it.

He dragged his heavy body back to the bedroom to find more things that would bring him comfort. He pulled out a Converse shoe box from under the bed and sat on the carpet with it in front of him. He opened it to see it full with photographs, some of the Armstrongs, some of Ethan, some of friends and work collegues.

After finding his way to the bottom of the box, he realised there was an odd piece of cardboard made to look like the bottom. Frowning, Frank pulled it out and found a recent packet of photos. Opening the pack and retrieving the pictures, he found produced photographs from the single roll the two of them used up one time.

Frank smiled. October didn't like digital pictures, she loved messing around with a good old camera with film. She'd always been old school and into anything vintage.

Frank went through them, one by one, remembering the good times they always had together. He stared at their pulled faces as they held each other in each picture, some shots taken by her, some by Frank, each one bringing him back to that place where everything was okay.

They used to be so happy. Why did it have to end?

A photo came up of them both laying on Frank's white bedsheets, October nearest to the camera as Frank was laying behind her, his chin resting on the side of her head. He was looking down at her adoringly with a smile across his lips whilst she held onto the camera, staring straight into it as her beauty overtook the picture. That was the first time Frank had told October he loved her.

Raising his hand over the picture, Frank gently pressed the tips of his fingers against the photographic paper, touching her with a weak smile. The thought of her not being around to hear his 'I love you's anymore made him feel sick.

Why did she have to leave the way she did? He loved her like no another. He wanted her back with him, he needed her back with him. She made things so simple and now she was gone. Just like that, she was gone and he couldn’t get her back.

Or could he?

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Frank lit up another cigarette and took a drag, letting the delicious smoke fill his lungs. As the thick white escaped his lips and swirled around him, he had a thought. He didn't know whether it was all the alcohol he'd consumed or if he was just simply going crazy, but he had an idea.

Frank should take the pills.

Not to commit suicide, but simply to put himself into a coma. Yes. He'd go into a coma beside October and they'd have one of those dreams where they're together in the same dream, and Frank would tell October to wake up. He'd tell her.

People say love makes you do stupid things, but maybe this wasn't stupid. Maybe this was the push October needed to regain conciousness.

Looking down at her photographed face on the floor, Frank nodded to himself.

"I'm coming, Octy," he told the empty room.

Once finished his final cigarette, Frank grabbed the pills from the kitchen floor and made his way to the bathroom. He looked at his reflection and finally noticed for the first time how different he looked without October.

"Do you really want what we have to end?"

His own voice echoed in his head, along with hers.

"No. But I love you so much that it's killing me."

Frank shook away the voices as he took the bottle of pills in his hand. There weren't many left, but enough to do the job. One by one he swallowed them. All of them. If it goes wrong, then at least he died trying for October, that was all that mattered.

He started to feel weak. The pills were kicking in.

Frank fell to his knees and slowly laid on the cold bathroom tiles. His breaths were becoming slower by the minute and his vision started to blur.

He began to drift away.

He pictured her face, every feature. How her chocolate hair fell playfully around her face during the day, and stuck up at odd angles in the morning. How her eyes twinkled when the light hit them. How her lips curled at one end to make that cheeky grin.

Frank smiled, knowing that October was the last thing going through his mind.

Back at the hospital, back in that painfully white room, a twenty two year old woman laid under medicine-smelling sheets in the dark. No one was there to notice her eyeballs rolling around under their lids, fighting to find some way out. No one was there to notice her heart rate increasing rapidly, the machine beeping more frequently than it should.

No one was there when October Armstrong awoke.