Make a Mess of All the Plans We Made

"It's the white hallways and the cold tiles and the stupid idiot nurses that I don't like!"

"You don't have to like them, you just have to sit here while they co-exist with you. You know I don't like hospitals or needles any more than you. Please just stay here." Gerard pulled Frank tighter into his arms.

"I hate it so much though, Gee."

"I know, Frank. It'll be okay though." The two of them were lying together on Frank's hospital bed, Frank curled up against Gerard's chest, in his arms. Gerard had gotten him back to the hospital last night. Even though Frank had protested, Gerard had told the doctor about Frank's little escapade.

"So what's going to happen to the band, now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we need another guitarist. Don't we?"

"I suppose."

"Are you gonna be okay? Do you think we can even go on?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sad to say, but I saw it coming. Mikey never was stable." Gerard held back a wave of tears as he thought about finding Mikey in that hotel room, slipping in his blood...

"--the bar." Frank's big hazel eyes blinked up at Gerard. "Gee? Were you even listening?"

"No, I'm sorry. Say it again."

"Oh. Well I said that we should probably start in the bar where Mikey found me. I know some of the guys and we should be able to find one." Frank brushed his lips against Gerard's before sitting up. "You really should go talk to the guys. Go find another guitarist. Y'know." He smiled and folded his hands in his lap.

"Yeah, of course sweetie. I'll go tonight. I need some food and sleep first though. A shower would be pretty awesome too." He kissed Frank's forehead before quietly slipping out his hospital room door.

Off to find a new guitarist.