FicWad

Frank was sitting cross legged on the floor of his living room, watching the rapt attention with which his two friends listened to his story. When he finished recounting what he had seen, an uneasy silence fell between them. 'Shit man,' Ray said at last. 'Are you gonna tell the police?' Frank stayed silent, playing with his lip-ring as he thought. He knew it would be the right thing to do- hell, its more than the 'right' thing. If he didn't, more lives could be at risk- but something was stopping him. It wasn't just the fear of what would happen if the killer found out Frank had told the police, although that was terrifying in itself. But something else instinctively told him it would be a bad idea.
'Of course he won't,' Bob cut in. 'Frank's totally into that serial killer shit. He'll be finding out where the guy lives so he can-' Bob didn't get to finish his sentence before Frank had thrown and especially large cushion at his head.

Once his friends had left, Frank lay down on his couch, rubbing his eyes and trying to think clearly. The most sensible thing to do would be to tell the police what he had seen- then, maybe, they could catch the man. But something was holding him back; Frank couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Perhaps it was the dislike for the police, or fear of what would happen if the murderer found out it was Frank who had told them. Whatever the reason, the idea of walking to the police station and telling them the same thing he had told Bob and Ray made him almost as uncomfortable as reflecting on what he had seen. So, instead, Frank switched on his tv, deliberately avoided the news channel and watched something mind-numbing and painless, unable to shake the feeling that he had gotten himself into something very, very bad.


***

Gerard unlocked the door to his flat, hanging up his leather jacket on the peg by the door and whistling as he did so. Today had been productive- no-one had pissed him off, he had got a few new drawings done that he was quite proud of, and he got his latte in Starbucks for 20p cheaper than usual by successfully charming the waitress. He was in a good mood.

Walking into the small living room, Gerard started when he noticed someone sitting there already, his hand flying to his chest automatically before realising he had left his jacket in the hall.
'Hey.' The figure turned from facing to window to look round and Gerard, and he felt the breath he didn't realise he had been holding leave him in a 'woosh.'
'Geez Mikey, you scared the shit out of me!' Gerard's younger brother smiled silghtly sheepishly in his chair. He had changed his hair again, Gerard noted.
'Sorry man. Didn't mean to.' Sighing, Gerard flopped down on the chair next to him, running his fingers through his long hair. It needed a trim. 'It's fine. Just... give a guy a call or something, yano? You don't have to sneak into my flat to see me, you can let me know you're coming over. I don't even have anything for dinner, I-' Miky cut him off by holding up his hand. 'Chill man, its fine. I've already eaten.'

A silence fell between the two men, although it was not especially uncomfortable. They had spent a lot of their childhood in silence. Gerard wondered if that was the reason for things turning out the way they did. 'I just came over to see what you were doing.' Gerard turned to see his brother looking at him with a strange expression on his face.
'The same thing I'm usually doing, Mikey. Looking for work where ever I can find it, painting and things. I did some new ones yesterday actually, I can get them for you.'
Mikey shook his head. 'No, Gerard. I came here to see what you were doing.'
Gerard chose to ignore the second meaning behind Mikey's words and instead sat in silence. The only noise in the room was the ticking of the clock above Gerard's television. Seeing that Grard was not going to answer, Mikey stood up as though to leave, gathering his coat from the back of the chair and heading to the door. Before he walked out, he turned to Gerard and said, 'You know, someone I went to school with was found dead the other day. In his flat. Stabbed, I think.' Gerard stiffened slightly, and hoping Mikey hadn't noticed, replied fluidly, 'So?'
'So,' Mikey shrugged. 'Just thought you'd want to know, thats all. It's being treated as a murder.'
'Yeah well, you thought wrong. He probably had it coming to him anyway.' There was a silence again, before Mikey left this time, closing the door softly behind him. Gerard hadn't spoken much, but it didn't matter. He had got the answers he wanted.

Back inside the flat, Gerard sighed and lay back in his chair, dragging his fingers through his hair in a nervous reflex. Mikey didn't suspect him, did he? Shit. Scrambling for the tv remote, he switched on to a channel he was only half paying attention to and sat up thinking hard until the sunlight came in through the window.