Drowning Lessons
I Wa--Well, HAVE Seen What Your Insides Look Like!
Gerard's P.O.V.
I woke up alone. I didn't know where Frank went, but I assumed he was kicking around here somewhere. I turned over to his side of the bed, and...
Blood? Oh, gross.
Wait.... HIS blood...
Is he okay?
My blood ran cold as I sat up in the bed. The blood seemed to be dry. It had congealed on the pillow and was now hardening. Oh, god I don't want to touch that... especially if it's Frankie's.
I heard water running and a shriek-- a high pitched, whiny, raspy shriek-- Frankie.
What the hell?
I walked to the bathroom, holding the bloodied pillow. Mikey was bent over the tub, flicking the taps, and Frankie was on his knees in front of the tub, as if he was washing his hair or something.
I got a little closer and saw that the water was running pink.
I felt faint. What happened to Frankie? Again?
I held onto the door frame for support.
"Thanks, Mikes," said Frankie, "what do I do now? I lost my tape, or a stitch, or somethin."
"Well, first of all, I'd suggest getting that blood soaked pillow off of Gee's bed," replied Mikey.
"So would I," I said shakily.
They looked at me. Frankie looked apologetic, and Mikey looked grossed out. Waaay too much blood for my little brother to handle.
"Gerard, I'm sorry I left it there. I know what blood does to you. I was gonna go get it as soon as I was done cleaning up..." began Frankie.
"It's okay. I'm not worried about that. You lost a stitch? Let me see," I said quietly. It looked really gross, so I said, "well we can go get it repaired today, if you want. We're obviously not going to school."
"No!!" Frankie yelled, "Please! Please, I don't want to go back there. It hurts so much. You don't even know. Please don't make me," he whimpered.
I felt like crying. I was terrified of needles, and here he'd gotten a few shoved through his face. Numerous times. And I was asking him to go back and do it again.
"I'm sorry. Okay, well what do you propose we do? Your eyebrow is inside out," I said shakily.
"I'll just put a butterfly bandage on it. Does the same thing as stitched, and I don't have to get a metal pole pushed through my face," he said with a laugh.
I hugged him and shooed Mikey away. I wanted to bandage him up. He was MINE.
He sat down on the toilet seat and I wiped the caked blood away from his eyebrow.
Then I realized something...
"Frank..." I began, "didn't you have an eyebrow ring?"
He looked shocked. He had a little gold hoop in his eyebrow, and now... no more. We hadn't realized it... The doctor didn't see it. It must be either buried under his skin or lost in the parking lot somewhere. I hoped it was jammed into Rick's hand. I hope he got a.... a rather nasty infection. I hope..... I hope he's.... he's allergic to... to that certain type of metal....
"Eeeewwwwiiiiieeeessssss," said Frank, "where did it goooooo?"
"I don't know, babe... but it better not still be on your person," I said with a grimace.
I checked around the injured area, and there didn't seem to be an embedded object anywhere. I was relieved. I hooked him up with some peroxide and a bandage, and he was good to go. He kissed me softly before I led him out of the bathroom.
I figure it's time to stop blaming myself for Frankie's misfortune. It only made him feel worse, and it really wasn't my fault. Rick was just a savage little prick who deserved to fall off the world trade center into a pit filled with.............. despair.
...
Frankie's P.O.V.
I decided maybe it was time for me to go home. Gerard was looking pretty tired of seeing me like this, so I'll be a good person and make it so that he doesn't have to.
"Hey, I'm going to go home and let my mom know I'm alright. It's crazy, I haven't been home in like a day and a half. With no word as to where I am,"
(almost as if the author has been negligent of that fact... but shh.. its our secret)
"so I'll see you probably later on," I said softly. I kissed him on the cheek.
"Okay.. call me later if you want," he said.
I started walking out the door when something hit my back. Mikey had just come in the back door, and had thrown a little bag of skittles at me.
"I expected a bigger one," I said, pouting.
"You're lucky you got them at all!" he replied, laughing.
I saluted them and headed off.
I woke up alone. I didn't know where Frank went, but I assumed he was kicking around here somewhere. I turned over to his side of the bed, and...
Blood? Oh, gross.
Wait.... HIS blood...
Is he okay?
My blood ran cold as I sat up in the bed. The blood seemed to be dry. It had congealed on the pillow and was now hardening. Oh, god I don't want to touch that... especially if it's Frankie's.
I heard water running and a shriek-- a high pitched, whiny, raspy shriek-- Frankie.
What the hell?
I walked to the bathroom, holding the bloodied pillow. Mikey was bent over the tub, flicking the taps, and Frankie was on his knees in front of the tub, as if he was washing his hair or something.
I got a little closer and saw that the water was running pink.
I felt faint. What happened to Frankie? Again?
I held onto the door frame for support.
"Thanks, Mikes," said Frankie, "what do I do now? I lost my tape, or a stitch, or somethin."
"Well, first of all, I'd suggest getting that blood soaked pillow off of Gee's bed," replied Mikey.
"So would I," I said shakily.
They looked at me. Frankie looked apologetic, and Mikey looked grossed out. Waaay too much blood for my little brother to handle.
"Gerard, I'm sorry I left it there. I know what blood does to you. I was gonna go get it as soon as I was done cleaning up..." began Frankie.
"It's okay. I'm not worried about that. You lost a stitch? Let me see," I said quietly. It looked really gross, so I said, "well we can go get it repaired today, if you want. We're obviously not going to school."
"No!!" Frankie yelled, "Please! Please, I don't want to go back there. It hurts so much. You don't even know. Please don't make me," he whimpered.
I felt like crying. I was terrified of needles, and here he'd gotten a few shoved through his face. Numerous times. And I was asking him to go back and do it again.
"I'm sorry. Okay, well what do you propose we do? Your eyebrow is inside out," I said shakily.
"I'll just put a butterfly bandage on it. Does the same thing as stitched, and I don't have to get a metal pole pushed through my face," he said with a laugh.
I hugged him and shooed Mikey away. I wanted to bandage him up. He was MINE.
He sat down on the toilet seat and I wiped the caked blood away from his eyebrow.
Then I realized something...
"Frank..." I began, "didn't you have an eyebrow ring?"
He looked shocked. He had a little gold hoop in his eyebrow, and now... no more. We hadn't realized it... The doctor didn't see it. It must be either buried under his skin or lost in the parking lot somewhere. I hoped it was jammed into Rick's hand. I hope he got a.... a rather nasty infection. I hope..... I hope he's.... he's allergic to... to that certain type of metal....
"Eeeewwwwiiiiieeeessssss," said Frank, "where did it goooooo?"
"I don't know, babe... but it better not still be on your person," I said with a grimace.
I checked around the injured area, and there didn't seem to be an embedded object anywhere. I was relieved. I hooked him up with some peroxide and a bandage, and he was good to go. He kissed me softly before I led him out of the bathroom.
I figure it's time to stop blaming myself for Frankie's misfortune. It only made him feel worse, and it really wasn't my fault. Rick was just a savage little prick who deserved to fall off the world trade center into a pit filled with.............. despair.
...
Frankie's P.O.V.
I decided maybe it was time for me to go home. Gerard was looking pretty tired of seeing me like this, so I'll be a good person and make it so that he doesn't have to.
"Hey, I'm going to go home and let my mom know I'm alright. It's crazy, I haven't been home in like a day and a half. With no word as to where I am,"
(almost as if the author has been negligent of that fact... but shh.. its our secret)
"so I'll see you probably later on," I said softly. I kissed him on the cheek.
"Okay.. call me later if you want," he said.
I started walking out the door when something hit my back. Mikey had just come in the back door, and had thrown a little bag of skittles at me.
"I expected a bigger one," I said, pouting.
"You're lucky you got them at all!" he replied, laughing.
I saluted them and headed off.