This Still Belongs to You and Always Will

Gerard's P.O.V:

With great consumption of alcohol comes a great hangover. With little consumption of alcohol comes no hangover. It can depend on how lightweight you are and what you've had to drink as well, obviously. Basically what I'm trying to say is Frank had a killer hangover when he woke up.

It was a case of, wake up, look at me, stomach lurching, hand clapped over mouth and suddenly pelting for the bathroom. Oh and we can't forget the wonderful sound effects either. They could probably hear him next door. While I was still annoyed with him from the previous night, I sympathised and dutifully went to hold his hair back and rub his back.

He moaned somewhat pitifully in between rushes of vomit, gripping so tightly to the edge of the toilet seat that his knuckles started to turn white. I shook my head and continued to rub his back. He groaned and suddenly retched again, hacking and coughing miserably.

What seemed like forever and a week's worth of vomit later, Frankie just sort of went limp, resting his head on my chest. While he absolutely reeked, it would hardly be very husband-ly of me to tell him he smelt bad and wander off. Plus, he probably knew he smelt bad anyway, just not how much.

"You all done doing the technicolour yawn?" I questioned gently, pushing the matted and clumped spikes of hair from his face.

"Very funny. . ." He mumbled semi-consciously due to the fact that he was focusing on breathing deeply.

He kept his head resting on my chest, sort of curling up so that I'd put my arms around him. I shrugged and cuddled him tightly. He smiled to himself, mumbling 'I love you, Gee'. I stroked his hair again, vowing to get him some of that hangover stuff we kept downstairs.

"I didn't drink that much, did I?" He mumbled quietly.

"Yeah, you really did," I replied, careful to keep my voice down.

Then of course, Elena came out into the hall to get ready for school. And, like always, she had to make sure she took full advantage of Frankie's hangover. She does that for some reason. Not just to Frank, to me as well. Even Mikey and Alicia if they stay at ours.

Who thought my daughter would turn out so cunning?

"Hey, Frank," She exclaimed loudly, making him clutch his head and groan "You all done being an asshole?"

"Urrrgh. . ." He groaned, clutching his head tighter "Elena, shh, please! My head's killing me!"

"Whatever," She pooh-poohed, making to walk away.

"Elena!" I scolded "It's not funny! Either show some goddamn sympathy or go away!"

"But he was a total ass last night, Dad!" She protested "Don't deny it!"

Frank groaned and threw himself back over the toilet again. She looked satisfied as he proceeded to throw up whatever was left inside him. I scowled at her and ordered her to go away, which she did with a sigh and roll of her eyes. Frankie moaned to himself.

I shushed and stroked his back in a dutiful manner. He whimpered again, slowly lifting himself up and collapsing against me. The room was silent except for his heavy breathing. There was also the faint sound of Elena banging around downstairs in a grump with me for yelling at her.

"Call. . . call in sick for me?" Frankie begged, clutching my shirt.

"Okay," I nodded "Should I call Mikey, Ray and Bob to cancel tonight-"

"No!" He said quickly "I can't cancel tonight, they'd kill me!"

"What's going on tonight?" Elena's inquisitive voice questioned.

"Gig," Frankie groaned in response.

She raised her eyebrows, indicating she was interested. Frankie attempted to get up, me holding onto him firmly. Once he was kinda' leaning against the wall, he looked up at Elena with a kind of smile.

"You wanna' come along for the ride?" He questioned.

"Yes," She replied.

Then she brushed past us and ushered us out of the bathroom so she could get showered and ready for school. I frowned at the closed door, unimpressed by her behaviour. It wasn't normal for her to behave like that. I wondered if a certain someone had been having an influence on her recently.