And it all unfolds.
Worry floods into Gerard's chest, crashing and splashing wildly as his stomach clenches uncomfortably. His organs feel braided together; entwined tightly and painfully like loop-de-loops in a roller coaster. His hands lost all sense of feeling a few minutes ago, just after someone tied his hands to the arms of the chair he's sitting in.
As Gerard's thoughts run wild, eyes prickling painfully due to the mace Marty decided to spray at them after he wouldn't cooperate, Gerard budges sightly in his seat, suppressing gasps of pain as rope squeezes his lungs and rib cage. His breathing is labored, his head pounding and spinning all at once.
There's a long, eerie silence...
Until Bob talks.
"Don't scream and don't shout. Don't talk unless spoken to, or I will kill you here and then, without your precious answers. Hear me, fucker?" he asks, his tone teasing and cruel. It's cold, just like a glinting, icy blade through a heart.
Gerard simply nods, not trusting his voice. Despite being in situations where he'd felt a lot more uncomfortable, and been in more pain, Gerard feels like he simply can't do anything. No.. more like he doesn't want to do anything.
Then, from some distance away, comes a gruff, spluttered, "Fuck you.."
He sounds worn and torn, like he's been beaten to a bloody pulp rather than his usual, pale, radiant self. There's not one, not one measly, shred of joy in his voice.
Bob laughs cruelly. "What? Don't want me talking to your boyfriend like that?" he teases.
Gerard's face is resembling a question mark. It was just a hit on Frank being gay, he thought. That's it, that's all..
Frank says, "Fuck you!" again, but this time it's much quieter.
Gerard ignores everything as his blindfold is taken off his lifeless, hazel eyes and the blackness is shredded. The first thing Gerard notices is the gloom and crookedness of the room. It tilts slightly; it's short, unfitted walls creak and conceal each and every inch of the shack in a gloomy darkness, apart from the short, dim beams of light that creep through the cracks in the wall panels. The floor is warped and damp with blades of dead glass sticking up through gaps.
Then Gerard notices Frank.
He's no longer blindfolded either, but he looks terrible; bruised and beaten, as he slouches over in his chair, wincing in obvious pain. His right arm, the one which Marty broke, looks even more brutal than before. He's got a black eye and swollen lip. In other words; he's not a pretty sight.
"F-fuck! Are you okay, Frank? You look shit!" Gerard asks frantically, forgetting Bob's warning, forgetting their situation, forgetting his life. He just worries about his friend; the one person who never judged him.
Frank smirks weakly and nods. Blood pours out his nose. "Such soft hands.." he mumbles wearily.
Gerard smiles. He's still able to crack a joke, at least..
"Shut it!" Bob snaps from behind Gerard.
The rope around Gerard's middle tightens suddenly and as he gaps for air, his blood rushing up to his face. Thick panic starts to suffocate him and as his eyelids grow heavy, he groans involuntarily, airily, his chest heaving as he struggles to breathe. Then, just as quickly as it was tightened, it loosens as Bob chuckles devilishly from behind Gerard.
"So weak!" He grins, rushing around the front of Gerard's chair with Marty.
"W-what do you want?!" Gerard asks, still panting and gasping for air as his ribs throb in pain.
Bob smiles sardonically, and as he began to talk, Gerard thinks he has never seen him look so crazy. "It's simple," Bob starts.
Marty nods from beside him.
"You want answers?" Bob asks, almost teasingly. He doen't wait for a reply. "Well here's your answers!" Bob begins to pace back and fourth, then stops and looks to a broken, bloody Frank. "You remember I told you, when you came to talk to me, just why Gerard's so famous?"
"Yeah. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!" Frank snarls.
Bob growls in warning at him and continues with the story. "It matters because Gerard didn't do any of those things! I did them! He didn't rape and kill those girls! We framed him! He's a nice man... but he's not honest. Not at all." His head jerks to Gerard, pure, almost passionate, hate burning in his eyes. "You're a liar!" he barks.
Gerard finds himself edging further into his seat, eyes bulging outward. "I don't know what I've done wrong!" he exclaims innocently, yet fiercely.
Bob laughs and crouches in front of Gerard. "Of course you don't. So I'll spell it out for you.."
From somewhere across the room, Marty shouts, "Just get on with it!"
Bob shoots up and shakes his head, not turning away from Gerard, but not glaring at him anymore, either. "No! He deserves answers!"
"He deserves nothing!" Marty snaps back, stomping up to them both and shooting dagger-eyes at Gerard. "I don't care if we framed him for your crimes; he deserves nothing."
Frank, now almost lying in his chair, no matter how his restraints hold him up, grunts.
"Y-you.. You framed me? You let me hate myself for years, never knowing what the hell I did wrong, never even able to understand?" Gerard asks meekly. Rage builds up in his chest, almost imploding and bursting through the skin, pushing all his worry and sorrow and panic aside. "How the FUCK could you do that to someone?!" he shouts.
Bob and Marty's grins look identical as Bob crouches back down in front of Gerard's bound body. "That was the point; to let you rot in jail for years.. until we could brake you to your last bone. Besides, you, of all people, know not to judge someone before you hear their story. Not even in your thoughts."
"You should hear my thoughts now.." Gerard mumbles. If he could, he'd cross his arms and moan about life for another half an hour, and what a fuck Bob was, but he can't. Truthfully, he just wants answers.
Bob doesn't hear him. "You see, Gerard, you haven't always been this.. gracious or observant. Especially not about other people's feelings." Bob stands back up and stretches his back, pacing whilst he glares viciously at nothing. "It was six years ago, one of the years you don't remember, and you, Gerard, were on a downwards spiral. Drugs, alcohol, pills.. Everything and anything you could get your hands on, you'd do. To say you were Depressed would be an understatement.
We were all there for you. Me, Mikey, Donna, Ray.. Well, until he was put in prison. But we were. That was until, all those years ago, you seriously fucked up our lives." His icy blue eyes, still raw with hate, stare at Gerard coldly. "Do you know, truthfully, why Ray was in jail?"
Gerard, almost loosing his voice, nods. "He said he murdered."
Bob laughs, a mean, tantalizing laugh. "The only person he murdered was himself. He wrecked himself. After what you did.." Bob shakes his head, the hate in his eyes burning fiercely. "He died inside. Killed his soul. Shut out the world. No, Ray was in there because he was insane. He turned insane. He always carried around a gun for self-defense. When I went round one day, with my friend to pick up some things, he shot us. I almost died, and my friend actually did die. Ray was admitted into prison. When he left, he wasn't a free man. He's now rotting away in Bluestone's institute for the criminality insane."
A ball of regret and self-loathing swirls in Gerard's stomach, increasing his sense of ghastly nausea. Not Ray. He couldn't.. he seemed so normal. Gerard destroyed him? Gerard knew him before prison? What? Maybe we both forgot each other, thinks Gerard. Maybe because he killed himself inside, he screwed up his memory, too. Like me..
Gerard doesn't know how right his thoughts are.
"What did I do?" he asks weakly.
Bob sneers sardonically. "All those years ago, on that one night, where you stabbed your friend's and family's hearts, you were drunk. More drunk than we had ever seen you. You had a fight with Mikey over your booze and drug addictions and stormed out. Mikey, Ray, Donna and I went looking for you. And that's where Frank comes in." Bob stares at Frank. "Frank, what were you doing six years ago?" he asks, faking innocence.
Frank looks at Bob questioningly. "You know I was wasting away on alcohol," he replies weakly, almost spluttering the sentence.
Bob nods and grins unethically. "You were. And on that same night Mikey and Gerard fought, you decided to get drunk. Very, very drunk. Then, when we went looking for Gerard, who did we find sitting next to him in a booth, practically in his lap, both drunk out of their minds?"
Frank's and Gerard's eyes simultaneously widen in horror.
"Yes. You, Frank. Practically shoving beer bottles down Gerard's throat. Along with your tongue." Bob rolls his eyes then looks back to Gerard, the hate reigniting.
Marty's laughing slightly as she watches from the other end of the room.
"We tried to rip you away from each other. Tried to reason with you both, tried to help you both. Offered a ride. When you wouldn't cooperate, Mikey, Ray and I went to grab you both. They didn't know who you were, Frank, but they seemed fine with helping to get you home as long as I knew you." Bob doesn't look to Frank. "And then," Bob laughs sadly, "You both ran out the front. I don't know how you got away, Gerard's car was missing so we could only presume.. but you both disappeared.
When we received a call from Valkyrie, Gerard and Mikey's cousin, saying she'd found you outside her house, you can just imagine our relief. I can still feel it; the relief. We were worried sick."
Marty growls. "Enough!" she hisses.
Bob holds up a hand and ignores her. "Then Valkyrie starting panicking; we couldn't hear her clearly. She wasn't talking in the phone. She was talking to you two." Bob pauses and stares vacantly into space, then blinks and returns to reality. "When we got round to the house, still on the phone to Val, she screamed. And we all saw it.
Valkyrie was friends with my daughter, Jamie. The two were with each other on that night.. along with Donna's sister and your grandma 'Elena."
Gerard shakes his head. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't need to hear it. He's heard enough, he's heard enough..
Bob stares at Gerard, upholding a devoid look, and you can practically see his heart break through his eyes. The anger in them disappears and is replaced with a deep, gnawing sorrow that eats at the icy blueness of his eyes. "They were fifteen. They were both fifteen when we watched as you, two drunken idiots, got in the car and tried to drive off. But you drove into the house. It's miraculous you two lived." Tears are building in Bob's eyes as he speaks, a hard edge to his voice. "You two were so wasted, so idiotic. But guess who had to pay? Jamie, Valkyrie, Donna's sister, and your grandma, 'Elena. They had to pay the blood price you skipped out on. You lived. You don't deserve to live, either of you. Where the fuck was your sense? You killed four people; two of which were fifteen.
I didn't know how you could fucking live with yourselves. Everyday you shrugged it off like.. like you didn't just stamp on all our hearts.." The anger flares back into Bob's eyes and roars to life; it's so intense, even Gerard can feel it. "Can you two live knowing the truth now, though? Or will you get on your knees, wasting to an end of pitiless piles of dirt, begging for me to jam a dagger in your throats?"
Tears make trails down Gerard's face. "I didn't kill them, I couldn't, I couldn't.. It wasn't me!" he sobs, shuddering as he slouches over in his chair, his heart twisting and breaking, cracking and bashing.. Someone's slashed a Machete through his heart and left it to bleed; drowning him in sorrow and letting it leak out of his eyes, never to repair.
"You did!" Bob bellowed. "You did it! Admit it! WE SAW IT. You did it!"
Gerard's heart plummets through his stomach, entwining with the uncomfortable knot of regret. Regret can only mean one thing..
And that means it's true. It must be. He did it. They did it.
"Oh god.." Gerard whispers, bile rising in his throat. "I deserve to be in Prison for that.. I.. I didn't.." Gerard retches once, twice, before throwing his guts up on the floor next to him.
Bob cringes and holds a steady glare on Gerard, before shaking his head. "You didn't go in prison for that. No one saw it fit; you were put on Community Service and sent to Alcoholics Anonymous. Frank disappeared after the incident.. he didn't even know it happened. No, you're in prison because you were found guilty of raping and killing eight year olds. They were killed by someone cutting through them and ripping out their hearts. I course I actually did it, I had too. You deserved it. You needed to rot in prison until we could break you."
Bob looks over to a very green-looking Frank. "What's the matter? You can blow up hostages but you can't deal with the sick truth?"
Frank simply squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head once.
Bob looks back to Gerard as he spits, "You're sick! You're fucked up! Mentally ill!"
Bob shrugs. "Maybe so, but I didn't kill my family."
Martu growls from the other side of the room, muttering, "We're not fucking crazy.. we're not fucking crazy. No way.. no way.."
Bob continues. "As I said, you didn't go in prison for the car crash. After the funeral, which was held in this very forest, Jenifer and I devised a plan."
Forest. The forest I've been dreaming about... thinks Gerard. Yes, because in my dream, after I dug, I revealed a pair of eyes. Piercing, blue eyes. Ones just like Bob's.
Frank's voice brings Gerard back to reality. "Jenifer?" Frank asks weakly, eyes fluttering open.
Bob growls under his breath. "Jennifer is Marty's real name, she's the mother of Jamie. So you can imagine why we'd want revenge.
We said we'd get our revenge and we will. We framed you for the violating and murdering of those little girls, Gerard. We pinned the blame on you. It was pretty easy. And when you were put into prison and slowly lost your mind, we decided it was time. But then Frank came, and we decided we'd drag him into the plot, too. Because he was just as guilty.
Marty told you about Frank in prison, and naturally, you became friends. Just like that night at the bar. After that things were easy; we got you a hospital run, and we got you two here. In the forest."
Gerard feels pulled apart; like his heart and soul are laid out on a table in front of him and he has to chose which he wants to keep. He's clearly already lost his mind and conscience. "W-well.. you have us. So what now? You're going to kill us?"
Bob and Jennifer share a look full of pure hatred and despair, obviously aimed at Gerard, and they grin, just as Marty pulls open a door.
"No," Bob starts. "We're going to kill him."
And then he points.
He points to something that stabs at Gerard's heart and soul repetitively, ripping them to shreds and feeding them to a bloodthirsty tiger. He wouldn't need to chose whether to keep his heart or soul now; they're both gone.
"No.." Gerard whispers, tears rolling down his face as he stares at Mikey."You can't.. you wont.." His heart strings are Bob's to command; like a puppet on a string. "You're friends with Mikey, you're.. you can't!" Gerard sobs.
Bob shrugs, as if murdering someone is the most nonchalant thing to do. "You'll be surprised what loosing your daughter can do to you," he replies soullessly. And then, he aims the gun to Mikey's head.
Now all Gerard can do is watch.
He can only watch as Bob pulls the trigger.
He can only watch as Mikey's terrified face drops.
He can only watch as blood seeps through the hole in Mikey's head.
He can only watch as Mikey's head lolls back, and his eyes freeze.
He can only watch as scarlet blood soaks Mikey's hair.
He can only watch as Mikey's body falls limp.
He can only watch his own heart break.
And then there's nothing left.
Gerard stifles a sob as his eyes glue to Mikey; his dead brother. The invisible barrier around Gerard's ears prevents him from hearing anything; Bob's laugh, Jennifer's cackle, Frank's shouts and cries.
Until the gun is pressed to Frank's temple.
"NO!" Gerard sobs. "No, stop, please.."
Bob removes the gun and grins. "I knew that'd get your attention."
Bob plays a nasty puppeteer; always puling on each heart string, always tricking Gerard, always hurting Gerard.. always framing Gerard.
Frank sits up straight, almost, and smiles weakly, reassuringly. "You'll be okay, Gerard," he mumbles.
Gerard shakes his head; a single drop of grief wells up from the corner of his eyes and suddenly, the dam brakes. Hot torrents of sorrow course down his pale face, hair getting caught in their trails, his racking, heart-retching sobs lost in the high winds of echoing sadness that tears at his soul. The black bags under his eyes look even more horrible due to his broken expression, and as he hunches over, weeping, he slams his eyes closed.
But suddenly, Frank starts spluttering and coughing, gasping for air as he tries to clutch his chest, but failing due to the restraints.
Gerard stares at him wide-eyed. "Frank?" he asks, tears still rappidly running down his face.
Frank's coughing grows dryer, more painful.
The remains Gerard's heart crack with each cough. "Frank?!" Gerard repeats frantically.
The coughing suddenly stops. And then, without a moments notice, Frank's body falls limp.
A sob crackles from Gerard's throat, but there's no tears. "W-What've you done?" he asks weakly.
Jennifer answers with a smirk, "Antifreeze. Kills you slowly, horribly. It's fatal." She picks up a transparent bag from behind Frank's chair, which evidently used to hold Antifreeze, and plucks a needle from Frank's neck, which filtered the drug into Frank's body. Gerard only just notices it.
Then Gerard realizes how vulnerable he now is. How his soul is shattered, how his heart is stamped on, how emotions are pouring out of him all at once. He really is naked; a wailing, blithering, heart-blistered mess for the world to see.
"What d-did you do? H-how could you? Y-you're crazy!" Gerard whimpers under his breath, head slouching downwards, eyes plastered closed.
Bob smirks devilishly and releases Gerard's binds around his waist and wrists. "Have fun in jail, fucker," he whispers mockingly.
Gerard doesn't even move as Bob shoots the gun, twice, then him and Marty fall to the floor in a bloody heap.
And then, as the sirens of police cars can be heard, and the frantic shouting of officers, one thought can't escape Gerard's mind.
It should have been me.
Here's an explanation if you still don't get it, and I think I'm going to write an epilogue:
It's kinda simple; they just wanted him to die inside, then completely destroy him by taking away someone he cared about, which was Mikey. But he became friend's with Frank, so they decided they'd take him away, too. Frank was also part of the plot, so they thought it better if he suffered, too. So they killed him slowly using Antifreeze.
Their reason? Gerard and Frank were drunk and killed 4 people; one of which was Jamie, Bob and Marty's (well, Jennifer's) daughter.
It screwed them up mentally, both suffering with a strong mental collapse, PTSD and they basically both went crazy. They desperately wanted revenge, so they framed Gerard, claiming he killed people. In a very brutal way.
And not just any people, little girls. Raped then killed.
Yeah, they were sick.
So Gerard's left suffering and letting himself die more than he already has for the rest of his days, Bob and Marty are dead and no longer have to suffer, Frank died a long a painful death, and Mikey died.
So, it's pretty much tragic.