As the boy with the short, white hair walked through the sterile, unnaturally white hallway with a guard on either arm, his soft, hazel eyes were wide and scared. His body trembled in fear, his knees threatening to buckle under his weight. The sharp, burning smell of the bleach that they used to clean everything in the place was ever present as they made their way down the hall. The three approached a set of heavy-looking, industrial double doors; the guard to his left quickly let go of the boy's arm to type a very long code into a keypad attached to the wall. When he finished with the code, he held up a keycard for the machine to scan. There was a faint beep and the little light on the lock turned from red to green. The guard stepped forward to open the door, letting the boy and the other guard pass through before firmly shutting the door and taking ahold of the boy's left arm once again.

The boy was led down another hallway, this one had multiple doors lining each side. All of them looked as though they locked from the outside. Even the doors were stark white and windowless. The boy was getting more anxious with every passing second. Both of his hands, which were down at his sides, were shaking like a leaf. Tears were slowly making their way down his pale face, and his breathing was abnormal, coming in short, ragged puffs. He couldn't think straight; his eyes darted from door to door, barely processing the numbers on each one.

They stopped in front of one of the doors. While the boy was still on the verge of a panic attack, the same guard that had typed in the code at their last little stop stepped forward and scanned his card once again. There was an audible click, and he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it downward, pushing the door open with ease. The boy was once again being dragged forward, led unwillingly into the small, unsurprisingly white room. The two guards guided him over to a bed in the far corner. There were no windows and only one overhead light. The white-haired boy came to the realization that, if the lights were to go out, he'd be plunged into total darkness with no escape. This only fed his panic. He began to thrash against the two men restraining him, screaming for them to let go. He needed out of that room.

Once he realized that there was no way he was getting out, he curled in on himself, shrinking away from the two startled guards. He edged back to the very corner of the bed, wide-eyed and shaking. His breathing was impossibly fast and his head was spinning. The only thing that was running through his mind was "Get me out of here. Get me out of here. Get me out of here."

He buried his face in his denim-clad knees, trying to self-soothe. It wasn't working. He heard footsteps, and his head snapped up just in time to see the guards walking to the door. One of them swiped their card and pulled the door open to reveal a short man in black jeans and a white button-down with a red tie. The two guards stepped out, probably waiting on the other side of the door. The boy his his face again.

The short man walked over to the boy, sitting down beside him on the bed. He reached out and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Gerard?" his voice was rough, but somehow still soft and comforting. "Gerard, what's wrong?"

The boy didn't look up, but his breath hitched at the sound of his name, which he hadn't been called by in so long.

"Gerard, seriously, I need you to answer me. I need to know what's wrong," the man spoke again. "I'm your doctor; you can trust me. My name is Dr. Iero, but you can call me Frank if that's more comfortable for you." Nothing was working. he couldn't get the boy to look up.

"Please, Gerard, I need you to answer me. I need to know that you're okay." The doctor, Frank, sounded on the verge of tears, and this is what brought the boy to lift his head up and stare into the watery, blue eyes of his doctor, of Frank.

When their eyes met, Gerard's breath hitched. They didn't look away for a long while. Gerard gradually calmed down, his breathing slowing and his tears stopping. He reached up and wiped the remaining salt water off of his flushed cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. He finally broke their borderline intimate gaze by looking down at his lap, picking at his fingers. "I-I'm sorry. I just. I f-freaked out. I di-didn't m-mean to w-worry you." His voice was wobbly as he spoke, as if he were about to start crying again. Frank really wished he wouldn't. Seeing such a small boy upset hurt him. Of course, Frank knew that this boy was seventeen and quite a bit taller than himself, but he put off this aura of innocence that made Frank's heart melt immediately. Frank felt a fatherly urge to protect the young boy. The thought of Gerard hurting made him want to punch something, yet he wanted to wrap his arms around the boy and keep him safe at the same time.

"Hey, it's okay, Gerard. I'm your doctor. It's my job to help you through stuff like that, but, more importantly, I'm your friend. I'm here to make sure you feel safe and to calm you down when stuff like that happens." As Frank spoke, he allowed his hand to run up and down his patient's spine. The motion was surprisingly comforting, and Gerard found him leaning ever so slightly into his doctor's touch. It was five minutes before either of them spoke again.

"Gerard, why don't we have a little talk?" It was Dr. Iero's voice that broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

"O-okay, why not?," Gerard spoke, his words shaky and unsure.

"Hey, don't be nervous. You can trust me. I won't tell anyone what you say here. Not only am I required by law to keep my mouth shut, but I don't really see the point in telling other people's secrets." Gerard grinned a little as his doctor spoke. Frank caught this and poked the boy's cheek. "Now, that's what I wanna see!" The boy's smile only grew, his small teeth showing themselves and a dimple appearing in his cheek. Frank chuckled and placed his hand on Gerard's head, ruffling the snow white hair. Gerard recoiled as his hands darted to the top of his head, smoothing down his short locks and giggling.

"Asshole," he muttered in mock-annoyance. Frank only chuckled and pulled his feet up on the bed, tucking them under his body and turning to fully face his patient.

Doctor mode: On.

"Okay, Gerard," Frank began, folding his hands in his lap, "tell me about yourself. Why are you here? I haven't bothered reading your files. I prefer to hear people's stories from their point of view first."

A/N

Okay guys. New story. This storyline was my friend's idea. So yeah. Votes and comments would make me very happy! :D You guys are awesome.

xoEm