Ok. So, this fanfic is not mine. It's a fic I found a few years ago (like five or four years ago) in Quizilla® -I mean, back when Quizilla was quizilla.com and not .teenick.com-. It was written by user AuroraMist, who took it down, and I don't know why.
She wrote a lot of amazing fan fictions; she's a hell of a writer. But this is definitely my favourite from her, and it is for sure the best My Chemical Romance fan fiction I've ever read. And I've read quite a few. So, I thought I'd share it -again- with the World. Cuz it's awesome, and it deserves to be read.
16
Over the next three hours I
went from being bored, to slightly annoyed, to annoyed and jittery, and now to
pissed off and nervous. I could easily explain the nervousness - about an hour
and a half ago, I'd been taken into radiology for X-Rays, in a wheelchair
(despite my protests and demonstrations of how well I could walk). When I was
lying on the cold bed, the meal machine resting above my middle, I'd looked
over to behind the glass screen and had seen the radiologists looking over a
couple of captures they'd already taken. They'd looked over to me, exchanged a
look and continued taking more after telling me, over the speaker, to 'lie
still and try to refrain from breathing'.
I'd told Frank but he'd just laughed and told me not to worry about it; they'd
probably thought I'd gotten whatever injury I had from some sex-related
activity.
I remembered the look shared between the two of them and scowled, realizing
Frank was probably right. They thought I was a slut, well fuck them... wait a minute...
Anyway, I was
annoyed-slash-agitated-slash-pissed firstly because of the waiting time - we'd
been here for about six hours and I wasn't even feeling that sore to
begin with - and then because of all of the females hitting on Frank. Don't get
me wrong, I love the fact that My Chemical Romance has lots of fans but some of
them were acting like real tarts. Plus, there is the fact, I might be a
little jealous. And, if so, only a little.
When Frank noticed I was glaring at my competition - I mean the women- he'd
asked me if I was jealous and I'd simply pretended to be looking over at
a man standing a few meters away, leaning against the nurses' station.
He'd followed my gaze and snorted, informing me that 'Carrie, he's old and he
has more wrinkles than my great-grandfather's dead ass'.
I squinted and then slumped on the bed - he was right. I could have picked
someone under the age of sixty to look over when attempting to return the
favour of jealousy to Frank.
I did cheer up though when
Frank told me this was the part of his job he hated - Well, okay, at first I
was upset because I thought he was referring to 'his job' as being my friend
and 'the part of' as sitting in a hospital with me with no entertainment, apart
from the doped up guy who'd been next to us and talking to first his hospital
gown, then the pot plant and , lastly, his toe nail (he'd been taken to Theatre
earlier and when we'd tried to smile at him reassuringly as he was taken past,
he'd drowsily sneered and gave us the finger). Then I realized Frank was
actually talking about having to deal with people because of his band's fame.
I looked at him in surprise
and said, "But I thought you liked your fans!"
He
cleared that up by explaining that he did; he loved them; but he didn't
like having to be nice to the ones who only liked their band because of how hot
Gerard is, etcetera. I'd beamed especially large upon hearing Frank say that he
thought most of the women we'd met today and who'd hit on him (and there'd been
lots) were nothing more than common whores.
In my head, I was enthusiastically agreeing and, in my stomach, the butterflies
were dancing around again, making me red in the face and the palms of my hands
sweat every time I so much as glanced at Frank. Yes, I said sweat - one
of the less charming bodily functions (though it could have been worse, say if
those annoying flying bugs had made me piss myself)
When my nurse (the second
one I'd had since arriving because of all the nursing staff's shift turnovers),
Marilee, came in with a clipboard in her hands and a reassuring smile on her
face, Frank was sitting on the brown plastic chair beside my bed. His head was
lolled back and his mouth was open the tiniest, slightest bit, as he slept and
snored ever so quietly. I think he was only snoring because of the strong smell
of disinfectant being spread around by the air-conditioner causing his
subconscious mind to open his mouth as he napped to prevent suffocation.
I stopped observing Frank
to look at Marilee. "Hi," I offered, just as he let out a random,
loud snort-like snore. I winced.
"Sorry about that; should I wake him?"
"I think so,
yes," she said patiently.
"Okay," I said
absently before reaching over carefully, so as not to topple off the bed, and
jabbing Frank in the eye, earning a gasp from my nurse. I looked over at her
and grinned. "Don't worry, it's payback."
But this didn't seem to
placate her and she glared at me while Frank stirred. He pulled himself upright
in his seat and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his balled up fists.
"Ow, fuck you Carrie. Just because I do it to you nearly every other
morning doesn't mean you can poke my eye out. I have special
privileges in such matters whereas you do not."
I thought for a moment and,
not coming up with anything more fitting, rolled my eyes at him. Using all the
intelligence and maturity a fully grown man can muster in such times, Frank
retaliated by sticking out his tongue. I mimed biting it off and his tongue
quickly disappeared back into his mouth. Dammit, I thought without realizing
I was doing so, before scolding myself (Bad, bad Carrie! No more mentally
hitting on Frank for you.)
Marilee coughed, alerting
us to her presence, before smiling her professional smile politely at Frank.
"Hi, I'm Carrie's nurse, Marilee - we haven't met yet."
"What happened to her
other nurse?"
"I started my shift
while you were asleep. Are you Carrie's brother?"
Frank came to sit next to
me and he kissed my temple. "I'm her fiancée actually."
"Well
congratulations!" She exclaimed. I gave her a pointed look to which she
stopped smiling and got down to business. "Anyway, we got your X-rays
around half an hour ago and, when she wasn't busy, Doctor Nut got to have a
look at them. Two ribs are broken, both on the left side, which is why you are
experiencing pain. Keep on wrapping your mid-section, like we showed you, with
fresh bandages every few days, stay rested and you'll be fine." She held
out the clipboard and a pen she had gotten from her breast pocket. "Sign
here and you can leave, sweetie."
As I took the pen and
started to sign, Frank asked suspiciously, "Doesn't Carrie need to
see a doctor before she can leave?"
"No," Marilee
said quickly, taking the clipboard and pen back, "Doctor Nut is too busy
at the moment."
She hurried away and Frank
and I walked out of the emergency room exit, to the car.
Once we were in and Frank was driving us back to the apartments, he looked at
me and said, while turning back to the road, "Well I'm sure glad I took
you to the hospital, where we waited six hours, to get photos of your stomach
and for a Doctor Nut to tell your nurse to tell us that you had a few
broken bones but all you have to do is wrap your body up in bandages and keep
off your feet."
I took his hand off his lap
and squeezed it casually in mine. "Thank you
Frankie."
Two days later, Frank and I
were alone -Mom had gone home and Ray, Gerard, Bob and Mikey had gone to check
for a suitable spot for My Chemical Romance's next music clip. I was aware of
the tension between the both of us; Frank was extremely sweet to me all of a
sudden and I kept on forcing us to always be making conversation, sometimes
over the most insane things; and it was all to avoid one question which was
hanging over us.
What would happen when they went on tour?
I guess we'd find out soon,
for the day after the other band members came back they'd be starting a three
month tour around the United States
and Canada
I sat on the couch, well the
edge of it, as far away from its other occupant as possible. She, still
un-named, looked at me eagerly, wagging her short tail in hopes of a pat.
I glared back. "Don't
think you fool me for one second and don't count your winning over my
fiancée as some kind of success because it's not - he's really gullible, you
have nothing to be proud of."
"I am not!" Frank
shouted from the bedroom. He was trying to find his favourite pair of shoes so
he could go to the grocery store a block away to find something we could cook
for dinner in a couple of hours.
I watched him walk into the
room, tucking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. His hair was
peeking out from beneath his beanie which he'd put on - he looked adorable and
I smiled; I loved his hair when it was in its longer style. I'd not let him get
it cut really short the last time he'd wanted to. "Are you leaving
now?" I asked.
"Not unless you want
to do it for me, instead," he suggested, again.
I smirked at him; I'd used
the nurse's advice as an excuse not to have to get up off my ass just to get
food supplies. "No, sorry dipshit, I'm supposed to be resting."
He muttered something
inaudible before kissing the dog and I on top our heads. "I'll see you
when I get back."
I waved 'good bye' and then
looked back at the dog once he's closed the door behind himself. "What are
you looking at?"
She lay down, resting her
chin on her paws, her eyes closed so I left her there while I went to the
cupboard in the kitchen to retrieve my stash of cookie dough (which only Mikey
knew about). Frank would love me if he came home to freshly baked chocolate
chip cookies. And he did love me for it. I knew this much when he tried to kiss
my cheek - but I moved my head unknowingly at the same time. Our lips connected
and my heart sped up considerably as those stupid butterflies returned, but it
didn't seem to affect Frank the same way.
He jerked back his head as if my lips had burnt him, before grinning cheekily
and grabbing a still cooling cookie, even though I'd just told him to wait.
"Sorry," he said, taking a bite," I meant to get your
cheek."
I nodded as he smiled,
before turning back to all the bags of food he'd bought and unpacking them.
"What would you like for dinner, Carrie?"
I didn't answer, but he
didn't seem to notice as he bustled around; I simply sighed and sat down to
watch him.
xo-
~ My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. ~
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