Young and Doomed | Frerard

Chapter Nineteen

It was well past midnight when Dr. J finally arrived.

A low sigh of relief escaped Gerard as the door unlocked, opening slowly. It had been God knows how many hours of sitting in this tiny room with a tiny window and a tiny bathroom, and Gerard was well on his way to combusting if this were to keep up. His knees ached, his head hurt, but most importantly; he was bored out of his fucking mind. "Gerard?" Dr. J asked quietly, stepping inside, and Gerard sat up quickly.

"Hey!" Gerard replied. "Please tell me you brought food; I'm starving."

"Right here," Dr. J nodded, handing Gerard the tray he was holding. Gerard took it, sitting on the floor (because there was no desk, and he wasn't about to eat standing up). Not caring about what he looked like in the slightest, Gerard began to devour the meal hungrily.

Gerard hadn't had being sent to isolation on the agenda for today, but somehow, he wound up here regardless. Apparently, the labs from his vitals taken a week prior had given back some bad results, and his physician wanted run more. If Gerard's case had worsened, he would be moved further up in priorities for organ donors. As of now, he was pretty close to the end of the line, with his history of crime, alcohol consumption, nicotine usage, and others. And as important moving up on the list was, it wasn't worth the cost of a blood draw.

"What if it were cancer?" The nurse had thrown his hands up in the air. "Wouldn't you want to know so you can get treatment?"

"I'm not letting you stab me," Gerard had shot back, grinning on the outside but terrified on the inside. He hated bloodwork with an ungodly passion, and if avoiding it resulted in his death then so be it. "I'd rather die!"

And then things had only gone down from there. Gerard was fairly certain he'd thrown some punches – not one of which he regret. Those bastards deserved it. Of course, this had only resulted in Gerard getting shot up with some good old Avitan, and the blood being taken from his arm before he woke up (in isolation. Big surprise).

Dr. J's voice brought him back to the present, and Gerard focused on his food. "I'm so sorry, Gerard," Dr. J said, watching as Gerard ate. "I had no clue they were going to keep you here for so long."

"Yeah, you did," Gerard said plainly, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn't mad, it was just the truth. Dr. J decided almost every aspect of his life, and Gerard knew that how long he stayed in isolation was one of them.

Dr. J shifted awkwardly. "I-I, yes, I knew, but I didn't mean for it to be like this. I thought you'd at least be let back for dinner," He trailed off, and Gerard shrugged again. "It's fine, Dr. J,"

"I was just dealing with a lot, and someone went missing, and – " Dr. J struggled to explain, but Gerard cut him off. "Someone went missing? Who?" Fuck, it was Frank, wasn't it? Gerard felt worry rush through him, making his back stiffen. If Frank had run away – done anything – because of what Ryan said, Gerard didn't think he would ever get over it. Frank's rejection to Gerard's smoking proposal replayed in Gerard's head, making him panic. Why had Frank said no? Was he mad at Gerard?

"No, no," A wave of relief washed over Gerard as Dr. J shook his head back and forth, answering, "No one you know; they're from another floor."

Gerard nodded, finishing off the last of his dinner before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and getting to his feet. "Can I go back now?" He was tired, and ready to sleep. Isolation was a difficult place to rest in.