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She's still preoccupied with 1985

"You're Frank, yeah?" Willow asked, almost determinedly. Frank nodded. "Yeah."
"So what's your last name?" she wondered.
"I.E.R.O," he spelt, wondering if she'd remember how to say it correctly.
"I-er-o," she half asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," he smiled. "Iero. Eye-ear-ro." His smile was friendly, yet there was concern showing in his eyes.
"Don't worry. I'm not mad. Well." She paused. "Even if I am I don't think it's contagious."
Frank grinned. "How do you know I'm not mad?"
"I don't," she said raising an eyebrow. "But it'd probably annoy you if I asked you who the president is."
He laughed; the cheerful sounded echoing round the room. "George Bush. Am I right or am I right?"
She beamed, relieved. "Yeah!"
"So," he began, sitting in the seat next to her bed. "If you think I'm mad shouldn't you be asking me questions?" he asked innocently.
She tilted her head slightly. "Seriously?"
"Well I haven't got anything else to do have I?" he joked, but his eyes were serious.
"So...um...what do you do?" Willow asked hesitantly.
"I breathe, I eat, I sleep, I-"
He was cut off by a laugh from Willow. "I meant what's your job?"
"Oh / that/. I'm a guitarist in a band," he explained.
"Really?" her eyes lit up. "That's so cool. That would be so totally amazing to do that."
He grinned at her enthusiasm. "It is amazing," he admitted. "We are the band. Me, Mikey, Gee, Bob and Ray. We're called My Chemical Romance."
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "My Chemical Romance," she murmured as Frank held his breath hoping that maybe she'd remember.
"Nope," she said, in a tone that suggested she would have shrugged if she hadn't have been in plaster. "Never heard of you."
Frank smiled sadly. "Probably not. We're not that big." This wasn't technically a lie. In Willow's time frame they weren't. Hell, they weren't even around yet.
"It'd be cool to hear you," she said shyly.
His face lit up. "I have just had an AMAZING idea. Stay right there!" he called back to her as he scrambled out of the room. He grinned at her petulant response of "Well where else am I gonna go?"
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After clearing it with the doctor Frank came back holding a guitar and a CD. "That," he said, putting the album down on the table by her bed. "Is one of our pretty damn amazing albums," he told her, hoping that the use of her own words, words she said over two years ago, might register. She just grinned at him. "Take it you're really modest?"
He shook his head. "Where's the fun in that?" He smiled at her as he hoisted the guitar strap over his head. "Just remember that I'm a backup vocalist not the lead. That's Gee. And he's way better. Oh and I'm not doin' requests till I've played a couple of my own choosing," he drawled.
She giggled. "As long as it's good, fine."
He grinned. "You ain't heard anything yet." He launched into an acoustic version of Dead! but as he did Gerard stuck his head in the door. "Frankie, that's not singing, that's caterwauling. You really need a good singer."
Frank beamed at him as Gerard leaned on the doorframe. "You know where I can find one then?"
Gerard rolled his eyes. "You're looking at one, you prat."
"I am?" Frank acted confused.
Gerard walked into the room properly. "Yeah," he confirmed. "One, two, three, four."
A couple of nurses walked past and stuck their heads in the door to check that the two men weren't annoying Willow, but when they saw her face they just smiled.
After they'd finished a couple of their own songs, Gerard raised an eyebrow at Frank.
"1985?" the guitarist suggested.
"Like that 1985?" Gerard asked.
Frank just looked meaningfully at his friend. "Yes, that 1985. Oh by the way Will? This one's gonna sound really weird cause it's supposed to be electric guitar but the lyrics are cool."
She nodded as best she could. "Cool."

As the song drew to a close, both men looked slightly nervous. Willow looked confused. "Who the hell are Nirvana? And Madonna?" Frank and Gerard exchanged looks that said you tell her.
"Will..." Frank began, placing the guitar on the floor. "You've got amnesia. It's 2007; you're thirty-one, not fourteen. And-" he faltered and Gerard picked up the story. "You're engaged Will. To Ray."
Her face shut down. "You know what? I thought you were cool. And now? Now I think you're two total pricks who should really be doing something else than hanging round a hospital."
Frank sighed. "Yeah, we should be. That's why I was happy to answer you're questions. Cause we've got to get back on tour." He started to troop out the room. "Oh and enjoy the CD."
Gerard stayed behind for a couple of seconds. "Will..." he began hesitantly.
She didn't reply.
"Just...stay safe. Don't go running in front of any more cars." He turned away, leaving an envelope on the chair, then walked out the room.
It's funny. If he had turned round to look at her once more then he could have seen the tear trickling down her cheek. But he didn't so he couldn't.
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An: Two updates in one day. You are privlidged. WHoever you are, considering the only two people who always review are like my best mates. that really doesn't bode well does it? But anyway, if you read this, thankyou. If you review, doubly thankyou. And if you turn away in disgust, triply thankyou. Cause then that means that I wrote something emotion provoking.