FicWad

This one is mostly Frank's POV, with Gee at the end. Enjoy. Rate and Review. You can also suggest some ideas for stuff you'd like me to write. That way, if I have writer's block, I can still do stuff....

"The song goes like this Charley- It's the terror of knowing what this world is about, watching some good friends scream let me out, hope tomorrow takes me hi-eye-ey-"

"Frankie, shut up!" Bob groans. "You can't sing!"

"I sing all the time Bob!" I say.

"Ha ha." Bob says wryly.

"Charley thought it was funny," I say, turning to look at her. I wink, and she doesn't return it, back me up, or smile like she usually does. I frown. "What's wrong Charmander?" I say, hoping to get something out of her with the Pokemon nickname.

"Nothing," she says. She sighs and pulls her jacket around her. "I'm just cold." Bob raises an eyebrow, glancing at Charley over his shoulder before turning back to the road. Outside it's over ninety degrees, and in the car, at least to me, it feels close. There's no way she could be cold. I look her over again, and this time, I notice how glassy her eyes are. She looks kinda pale too.

I turn to Bob with a feeling of dread. "I think somebody's ick-say."

"I'm not sick!" Charley groans. "And just 'cause I'm only nine doesn't mean I don't understand pig-latin."

Bob smirks at me. "Yeah Frankie." But he looks sort of worried too. He looks back at her again. She straightens up a little, staring out the window in a fake way. "She'll be ok Frankie. And Gee's coming at around midnight to get her."

"Yeah I know..." I say. I watch her carefully, taking her backpack as we go into Bob's apartment. Bob's keeping a close eye on her too.

"Hey Charley, you've got something on your face!" Bob says, tapping her on the nose. Charley pushes his hand away, trying to joke with him, but it's not believeable. Especially since she normally has some sort of insult to shoot back at him like, "You've got ugly on your face!" I'm proud to say most of these insults come from me. Unless Gerard is asking. Then they come from school.

Crap. "Charley, are you sure you feel ok?" I ask. "Because Bobert and I could give you some medicine, and you could watch a movie or something." Bob glares at me for the use of his nick name.

Charlie shakes her head, and her hair falls out all over the place. "I'm ok."

"Did Daddy do your hair this morning?" I ask her. She opens her mouth, and I cut her off. "Of course. Come here Charley, I'll fix it." We sit down, and I pull her onto my lap. Actually, Bob's better at doing her hair than me, but he'd never admit that. I can use it as an excuse to feel her forehead too. It's burning. As I pull her hair back, I shoot Bob a look, which he gets.

"Hey Charley, do you want a snack?" Bob asks, and I can tell he's trying to test her more; see if she's hungry. Normally, she eats like a horse after school. When she says no, it's just one more sign that she's sick.

"Let's see if anything cool is on, ok Char?" She nods, and curls up into a ball next to me. That's not so weird, but she's shivering.

We flip through the channels, though Bob winds up taking contol of the remote. He doesn't trust me with something that has that many buttons or costs that much money.

"Charley, it's Batman Begins!" Bob smiles at her, because being her father's daughter, anything involving comic books is automatically her favorite.

Charley just nods though, and to me, she looks a little paler than before. Bob notices too.

"Is she gonna puke?" He mouths at me.

I shrug my shoulders. Bob looks scared. I'm not though. I'm kind of used to this.

I keep watching her, and it's only about fifteen minutes before she gets the same expression that I've seen over a hundred times on Gerard's face. It was one that was pretty common back when he was wasted all the time. All the blood drains from her face, and her eyes get even glassier. When she looks up at me, there are tiny tears in them.

"Frankie," she moans, "I'm gonna be sick." And she starts to cry.

"Shh...it's ok Charley. Let's go to the bathroom ok?" We get up, and Charley is still crying. A dazed Bob follows behind us. We sit down in front of the toilet, and she hugs her knees.

"I'm sorry Frankie. I'm sorry Bobert." She says through her tears.

"Why are you sorry?" I ask her, because I have no clue why she's crying.

She sniffles. "Because I'm sick."

I put a hand on her forehead. "It's ok Charley. Everybody gets sick."

"Frankie gets sick all the time." Bob sniggers, and he comes and sits down next to us hesitantly.

"Shut up Bob." I say, smiling at Charley, who's not crying quite as much now.

"It's true," Bob says, winking at Charley.

"I know, but shut up." Normally, Charley would have found anything involving the words "shut up" hysterical. Now she just manages a weak smile.

Charley swallows a few times, just like Gerard always did. It's nice to have advance notice. She sits up to lean over the toilet. I pull back her hair in one hand, and rub her back while she gets sick. Bob just kind of watches. I can tell he feels bad, but he doesn't quite know what to do.

"Good girl Charley," I tell her. "Get it all out."

Eventually, Bob puts a hand on her shoulder too. He moves his thumb back and forth.

Charley wipes her mouth on a towel that Bob hands her. She still looks like she might cry. I flush the toilet.

"Let's go lie down, ok?" Bob says. She nods, and Bob scoops her up in his arms, and carries her to his bed, lying her down in it. I smile as I watch him with her; it's funny to see a big guy like Bob taking care of a little kid.

After Bob tucks Charley in, she falls asleep almost immediately. Bob sighs, and walks over to where I'm sitting.

"How'd you know how to take care of her so easy? I can do it, but it didn't seem like anything to you..." He runs a hand through his blonde hair.

I shrug. "I guess you weren't really around for it, but most of the time, I was the one who took care of Gee. I'm used to it. Besides, I care about Charley. "

"We all do." Bob says. "I think it's like she's all our kids."

I laugh. "Yeah. That'll be it. I can sort of have a kid, and Jamia will never have to be pregnant."

Bob chuckles. He looks over at Charley again. "Man, she looks so much like Gerard."

"Yeah, I know. She acts just like him too. That was how I knew she was sick; Gee always does the same things, swallowing, the glassy eyes..."

"Yeah. I know. I was there for part of it..." Bob says, still looking at Charley.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I kind of forgot."

It's quiet for a little while. "Hope Gee's ok. It seems like him and Lyn-Z are having some issues." Bob says after a couple minutes.

"Yeah, I know. I hope nothing happens. It would crush him and Charley."

"Wonder if Charley's gonna be just like him when she's older?" Bob says.

"Probably." I answer. And he laughs.

Gerard's POV

I slammed my car door angrily and banged my head against the steering wheel.

What the hell is wrong with Lyn-Z? She's acting so weird and I don't know why. She won't talk to me at all.

I exhaled roughly and shoved the keys in, turning on the car and jetting out of the parking lot in the direction of Bob's apartment. At least I'll be in a better mood after seeing Bob and Frankie. And once I've got Charley. That'll make everything better. For the moment anyway.

I shut the door with excessive force as I get out of my car. I can feel excitement building at seeing Charley, and I run full speed up the stairs. I knock on Bob's door, only after finding out that it was locked when I tried to open in immediately. I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for someone to open it.

Frankie's face appears as the door swings back. I step through quickly, scanning the room eagerly for my daughter.

"Where's Charley?" I say, after failing to find her.

Frankie bites his lip ring. "She's in Bob's bed."

I'm confused. "But I'm early. It's only eleven. I thought she'd still be awake."

"Gee, she's sick."

I feel my stomach drop. "What?"

"She's sick Gee. She seemed off when we picked her up from school. She threw up after we got here, and she's got a fever."

"Why didn't you call me?" I say, sort of upset.

"Because we handled it fine. Besides, she's been asleep for the past six hours."

"Still Frank, I would've wanted to know."

"Chill. I'm sorry Gee. But we took good care of her."

No offense to Frankie, but I think we probably had differring opinions on "taking good care of". I sighed and walked back to Bob's bedroom.

Bob was sitting in a chair right next to her bed, snoring. His lip ring moved in time with his breathing. I looked in his bed to see Charley, curled up under the covers. Hair was matted to her forehead, and she looked even paler than normal. On Bob's bedside tabel was a washcloth and a glass with ice chips.

I was impressed. I don't think I would have thought of the ice chips.

Frankie smirked. "Told you we took care of her."

I was still kind of shocked. "Yeah...thanks Frank. Sorry I doubted you man."

"It's cool." Frankie said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"How'd you know what to do?" I could almost envision Frank and Bob Googling "how to take care of a sick kid".

Frank shrugs. "It's not like I forgot everything from when I had to take care of you."

I feel myself blushing. "Thanks Frankie."

I walk over to the bedside, debating waking Charley up. Instead, I pull her into my arms. I'm kinda worried about how hot she is. I brush her hair out of her face and she stirs a little.

"Daddy?" She moans, putting her face into my chest.

"Yeah baby. Daddy's gonna take care of you now."

I stroke her cheeks a few times, then turn. "Thank Bob for me Frank."

He smiles and nods. "Sure. Tell Charley we hope she gets better." I'm about to answer him but he cuts me off. "Hell with it, we're all coming over tomorrow anyway. We'll tell her ourselves."

I grin at him, then wave quickly. As I'm carrying Charley down the stairs, I think about how lucky she is. She's always gonna have someone to take care of her.