Ink

"I-I'm not so sure about this, Christi," murmured Gerard as he was led by the hand into a hospital -- larger and shinier than the one he lived in for seven years, but twice as terrifying. Christi shook her head and clucked her tongue, smiling back at Gerard mischievously. She definitely had something up her sleeve, but the questions still remained: benevolent or malevolent?

Once inside the hospital, Christi released his hand, which was promptly replaced by Mikey's, and rushed to the counter, talking to the reception woman with a friendly smile and nonchalant words. Mikey looked behind them and sighed. Gerard shook his head and kissed his brother's hair in assurance. He knew why Mikey kept glancing over his shoulder; their father had refused to come with them, having declared that he would rather the hospital keep his eldest than bring him home himself. The statement didn't bother Gerard in the slightest, considering he was so accustomed to the harsh verbal beating from his father, but Mikey help onto some naive hope that he would come storming through the doors and demand to see his sons.

Nervousness flooded his system when a nurse in pink scrubs approached them and smiled, her curly hair pulled away from her face and her clipboard against her chest. She ushered the three into the hallway, directing Christi to room 312 and stating that the doctor would see them in a moment, although Gerard had presumed Christi would have been his doctor.

Christi opened the door with a secret smile, which widened when Gerard squealed happily. Frank was seated idly on the edge of the hospital bed, looking at the door anxiously. He grinned and stood, opening his arms in invitation. Gerard leaped into Frank's arms eagerly, burying his face in his neck and whispering sweet words into the skin.

Frank laughed lightly and kissed Gerard's head. "Hey, Gee," he whispered tenderly, kissing him in the same manner. Gerard grinned and tightened his arms around his boyfriend's neck.

"I never get such an eager greeting," Mikey bitched, giving a typical Mikey smile and waving his hand.

Raising his head from Frank's neck, Gerard cocked an eyebrow and said, "You want me to?"

"Nah, that's okay."

The lovers turned back to each other. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," started Gerard, "but what are you doing here, Frankie?"

"I came to support you, of course; I know how much you hate hospitals."

Gerard smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," he murmured before kissing his cheek again and leaving his face there.

The three boys settled in various spots in the room, waiting for the doctor and Christi's arrival from wherever she wandered off to. Frank held Gerard as his anxiety came back, churning his stomach and flushing his cheeks. He enjoyed the comforting nothings Frank sang in his ear, shuddering when he moved to his neck and mouthed the words there. Mikey watched the two intently, eyes wide behind his glasses. He looked like he wanted to take notes, but thought against it. The look in his eyes and the smile on his face suggested he enjoyed his brother's happiness as much as Gerard did himself.

The doctor -- a man with quaffed dark hair, a goofy smile, and a clipboard held upside down -- walked in a quarter of an hour later, followed by Christi, who seemed fond of the boy like he were her son (as he was young enough to be). A man in a white lab coat stood in the doorway, a scowl on his face as he observed the younger doctor, his perm surprising not taking away from his threatening appearance. "Hello," said the doctor, drawing out the word with that same goofy grin, "I'm Doctor Griffon and I'll be your doctor this week. You must be Gerard." He held out a hand to Gerard.

Gerard shook his hand feebly. "Um, yeah. Did you say a week?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than normal. Frank tightened his arm around his waist.

Griffon frowned slight and looked at his clipboard, righted it, and then consulted it again. "Yes, were you not informed?"

"No," he squeaked, more anxiety building in his gut.

"Oh," Griffon murmured, almost unsure of how to proceed. "I'm sorry, Gerard." He smiled again to lighten the mood. "You are?" he asked Frank.

"Frank Iero."

"Relation?"

"Boyfriend."

Griffon's face lit up. "Really?! You know, I have this porch--" Christi slapped his head. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Anyway," he turned to Mikey, "you must be the brother, Michael."

"Mikey," he muttered, his enthusiasm hidden by a layer of nonexistence.

Griffon's smile remained, despite Mikey's obvious displeasure of having to converse. "Great, so, let's get this thing started. A nurse should be in here in a moment with a gown; you can change in the bathroom over there. I'll be back in about half an hour, and then we'll get this party started!" He turned and left the room, grinning all the way. The scowling poodle-man stalked after him, yelling some woman's name along the way.

Christi laughed. "Sorry about them; the hospital staff are quite the characters."

Grumbling and pouting, Gerard declared, "I am going to be killed by an overly-enthusiastic doctor who can't tell morphine from potassium."

"Awe," Frank cooed, "don't worry, sweetie, I'll go to your funeral." He smacked a wet kiss on Gerard's forehead and stroked his hair.

"That makes it all worth while, huh?" he mumbled, eye twitching and lips pursed.

Fuck hospitals.