GERARD'S POV

By the time I swung the car back around and turned down my street, I finally calmed down. I felt bad for blowing up on him like that on our anniversary, the day we were supposed to have no worries.

I looked over at him and sighed, smiling. He looked up at me and bit his cheek while smirking. With another sigh, I focused on the road where some idiot was walking right out of nowhere.

I slammed the breaks and my car let out an eerie screech as Frank and I were lashed forward into the dashboard. A couple of gasps and head-hits later, we both stared at each other, in pain.

Holding my forehead, I examined Frankie's face. It was one of shock and bruises, redness marking his cheek and nose. It made him flinch as he prodded at his face.

I let go of my head and scanned my fingers. Blood. My fingertips were drenched in the crimson. I felt my nose start to tickle when drops of red dripped from the tip. Frank looked at me, wide-eyed, and then my vision doubled. It morphed back to normal when he started talking.

"Gerard are you okay? Oh God, do you need to go to the hospital?" He rambled.

"Wha- who are you?" His heart broke when he heard this, I could see it on his face.

"What do you mean, Gerard, I'm Frank! Your boyfriend for a whole year!" He started to cry and his chin started to tremble. He put his hand on my neck and stroked it.

"I know that you're Frank, but I just don't know anything else. What just happened? Tell me!" Tears started to fall from my eyes as well and I was beginning to get frustrated. There was so much missing from my mind, I didn't even feel human.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man – apparently the man we almost hit – running away. Frankie started to sob, covering his face with both of his hands.

"This can't be happening…" I heard him mumble through his tattooed fingers.

"Don't cry, Frankie," Though I wasn't doing a good job of it myself, "I remember how much I love you. The only thing I remember about you is your name, and that I love you so much, it makes my head hurt because I can't remember what made me feel this way about you. But it's so genuine, I can't explain how strongly I feel."

I gripped my head once again and cringed. Frank looked up and his eyeliner smeared down his cheek. He wiped his nose with the back of his skeleton glove then sniffled.

"Gerard, I love you too. We need to get you to a hospital, okay?"

He didn't stop crying the whole ride there, the whole time he bandaged up my head with a towel from the backseat, or the whole time in the waiting room at the hospital.

I wondered if someone could actually care this much about someone else, then I realized they could. Because I didn't stop crying either. I didn't stop because I knew how much was missing from my head, and I can't remember a single thing about the man I loved so much. I didn't stop because all 365 days I spent with him are gone. All I know is feelings and names. The rest is just blank, black in my mind.

Finally, our eyes ran dry as we both sat in beige chairs in confining blue walls.

What I did know was that I felt sleepy. So sleepy, as the doctor took my blood pressure.

"Wait, when did I get into a hospital bed? I was just in the waiting room," I said to Frank, who was twiddling his thumbs, impatient, as the doctor pumped the cuff up.

"You have a concussion, a serious one at that, Mr. Way," the doctor started, "You seem to have lost everything except names and feelings,"

"Well, I know that much, but why don't I remember walking in here?" I was starting to get mad at Professor Obvious M.D. when he starts to say something I actually don't already know.

Yes, I know I have a short temper.

"As a result of your concussion, you will have periodic blanks, where you won't remember a single thing in that part in time. These will go away while you rest here," he nonchalantly explained, as if I were a normal and boring case.

But on the other hand, he seemed friendly and comfortable, almost understanding, as he hung the cuff on a rack filled with electronic things. He leaned up against the bed, making the paper on it crumple and folded his arms.

"You're going to have to stay here for about a week, is that okay?" Frank said blankly.

I was taken back by his tone. He didn't look at me in the eyes. He seemed as if he didn't want to see me or he would start crying again, which made me want to cry too.

"I'm sorry, Frankie-" I trailed off.

"No, it's okay," he forced himself to look at me and smile, even though his eyes fluttered away again, "At least you remember how you feel about me. That's all I need,"

I pursed my lips and blinked back tears, "Doctor, is my memory loss permanent?"

"It most probably is, Mr. Way, I'm sorry," he joined the rest of us in staring at the gray and blue specked carpet, "But I will tell you this. Mr. Iero here told me a lot about you two. What a sweet story you've got. This relationship is one worth hanging on to for a long time, and that goes for both of you. Never let go of what really matters. Happy anniversary you two,"

I looked at his face and I thought I saw a single tear fall from his eyes.

"I'm going to go to the front office to assign you a room, you can go back into the waiting room if you'd like," With that, he left.

When the doctor wouldn't look at either of us, I knew we had hit something personal in him. It was sad, seeing that man in maybe his early forties crying. And instantly, I knew I didn't want to be him in the future.

I assumed that he had his heart broken, the way he talked to us. I don't want Frankie and I to be like that, ever.

And even though I had no idea who the man across from me was, I knew I'd never let him go.