Title: With Words I Thought I'd Never Speak..Standalone
Author: Me
Rating: Pg-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Summary: Gerard's in a coma. Frank's in love with him. He spills his feelings. He goes away for a couple of days and comes back to find what? (sorry it's a crap summary)
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author's Notes: This has been written in about an hour tbh with you. Sorry if it's crap but I felt the need to write something.
Warnings: Death!Fic.

 

With Words I Never Thought I’d Speak

Frank’s P.O.V.

I never thought that I’d be put in this position. And now that I am, it’s so fucking upsetting that it’s making it hard to think. Staring at the man that I have loved ever since I met him, laying motionless in this hospital bed, the only evidence he’s alive being the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I want to cry. I’ve never told him. He doesn’t know. And now I feel like I’ve wasted all that time I’ve had with him. All that time that I could have more than just friends with him.

What if he doesn’t wake up?

I try to tell myself not to think about that possibility, but it’s impossible. Can he even hear me? The doctors say he’s improving, but I can’t see any difference. He doesn’t respond to me. Ever since the accident six months ago, he’s been in this unresponsive coma, and I’m losing all hope that he’ll come out of it.

What if he goes brain-dead? And I have to turn the machine off? What will his family say? Where are his family now? Where have they been these past six months since it happened? I’m the one who’s been sitting here, day in day out, whenever I’ve been allowed to. I’m only his best friend. The best friend who’s in love with him, but that’s not the point. His family should still be here. I don’t think they even know.

I sit back in the comfortable chair next to the bed, sighing. I don’t know what to do anymore. I need to tell him. And I may never get another chance. Even if he can’t hear me, I need to get it off my chest. The knowledge that he doesn’t know the extent of my feelings is heartbreaking and I’m suffocating under the force of my own emotions. But, will I regret it, if he can hear me and he does wake up? Will I regret spilling my heart out to him, and will I be able to deal with the rejection that I’ll almost certainly get? I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same as me.

“Gerard.” I begin, taking a hold of his limp hand, leaning forward, closer to the bed. I tried to sort the thoughts out in my head, how I was going to word this. Did it really matter though? He probably can’t hear me anyway. Maybe it’s better that way.

“I never thought I’d admit this to you, and you probably can’t even hear me now that I’ve plucked the courage up to do it. But I need to get this off my chest. And now seemed an appropriate time. Before the accident, I could never find the right time, or get over my fear of rejection to admit it. I am truly, madly, deeply in love with you. And yes I know, I’ve just stolen the lyrics to a song, but it was the only way to describe the intensity of my feelings.”

I took a deep breath, trying to stop the burning sting at the corner of my eyes meaning tears were brewing. I couldn’t cry, not now, not when I was finally getting all of this out.

“It’s embarrassing to admit that I’ve loved you since I met you. It sounds soppy and you’ll probably think I’m turning into a girl but it’s true. I believe in love at first sight, and I felt it with you. And now, seeing you in this state, knowing the accident was slightly my fault, is the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life. It’s heartbreaking to know that you got beaten this badly, because of me. You stood up for me, like a good friend, and now you’re here, being kept alive by machines, practically dead to the world.” I gulped back a few stray tears, swallowing my gasping breaths as I tried to control my emotions.

I stared at him for a few minutes, willing myself to go on, but I couldn’t seem to put my mouth into action. It wouldn’t obey and I couldn’t sort through the raging thoughts begging for attention in my mind. After five to ten minutes of deliberation, I decided I couldn’t go on today. I needed to get away. Just for a couple of days, maybe a week. I breathed in a shaky sigh before kissing Gerard’s hand, whispering against the flesh, “I’m so sorry Gerard.”

I got up and walked out, for the first time in weeks I was leaving the hospital. I needed time. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I’ll find somewhere. I need space from my thoughts, space from my worries about Gerard. And now, I felt stupid for spilling my guts out when it was probably fruitless anyway.

I checked into a motel and didn’t move for three days.

********

4 days later

I’ve ventured back to the hospital, walking the familiar corridors to Gerard’s room. When I get there, the sheets on the bed are folded, all of Gerard’s things are gone, including him. I panic.

Running back through the halls, blind panic my only emotion at that moment, I sought out a nurse, someone who could tell me what was going on.

“I’m sorry honey. He went brain-dead two days ago. His family came and gave permission for his life-support to be turned off.” I was told when I finally found someone who could help me.

I sunk. No. Please no. His family?! They’ve had nothing to do with him since he went into hospital! Why did I have to leave? Why? I shouldn’t have gone away. If I hadn’t then maybe he’d still be here. Maybe he would’ve gotten better.

I fell to the floor, my body limply making contact as I completely lost control of my muscles. I couldn’t believe it. He was gone. He was actually gone. My best friend for ten years, and he was gone, never to be seen again. All because of me.

“I’m so sorry Gerard.” I whispered over and over as I completely ignored the nurses rallying round me trying to get me to move. There was no point in moving now. No point in doing anything anymore. I’d caused my best friend’s death, and for that I can never forgive myself.