Ray Toro + PCP + unresolved anger + being alone with Gerard Way at 4 am = a truly horrific chain of events. But where does Frank fit into this equation?
Strange things happen when you're high.
The higher you get, the stranger everything else becomes. Common sense, right? But common sense can be a foreign concept to someone whose taken way too much drugs for the night -- someone so far gone that they become entirely possessed by the pills or the powder. Someone like Ray Toro. Or at least, for that one night.
For just that one night, Ray Toro became possessed by the entity called PCP -- or as they called it: angel dust. And things did get very, very strange.
He had taken too much at the after party, that was for sure. Ray felt like it was perhaps just a little too much, when in reality it was way too much. Either way, it was clear that he had had his share. He had to be getting back to the suite anyway, the band was scheduled to leave early the next morning.
On his way upstairs from the gathering, Ray had to walk through a trickle of fans who came at him, asking him for autographs and photos. Almost every other one asked for Gerard. Where was Gerard? What was Gerard up to? Do you think you could take me to Gerard?
"He's probably asleep by now." Ray would force himself to answer them, ignoring the persistent desire to slap every single person who uttered the singer's name. It wasn't even the drugs. The fans had always held some sort of weird delusion that he, Mikey, and Frank had this constant knowledge of Gerard's whereabouts. Well, maybe Mikey did, but that was besides the point.
Why did they always need to know where Gerard was?
I'm here. Is that just not good enough?
Most days, of course, it was easy to tune this issue out. It had been going on for so long, and it was expected in every band -- everyone wanted the lead singer, the head clown, the star of the show. In their days touring with Green Day, many fans couldn't name any member besides Billie. And, just as well, it wasn't the singers fault either. He was just doing his job.
No one's fault. No one at all. Just the way things were.
But of course Ray never could overlook the fact that on top of all this, he was even the least asked for member of MCR. After Gerard, Frank was always second. Then, Mikey. And then maybe Ray. The guy with the weird hair. The ugly one. He could almost see the disappointment on their little faces whenever it was only him who came out to sign things.
Ray reached the suite. They were currently staying in a nifty hotel which had suites that resembled small apartments. Two separate bedrooms, a kitchen area, and TV area, all in little sections that made up the same suite. Great for a band that wanted to stay in separate rooms, but wanted privacy too.
He was having trouble getting the door open. He rattled it for while until suddenly, the knob tightened. There was a click, and the door opened on it's own. Or at least, someone had opened it for him.
Indeed, Gerard was revealed on the other side of the doorway, looking alarmed. From his perspective, some unknown person had been wrestling with their doorknob wildly at 4 AM, and in truth, it was a bit stupid of Gerard to have answered it at all. But he figured it was likely one of the band members, since none of them had shown up thus far.
"Hey." Gerard greeted as Ray stumbled inside. Ray didn't answer, his main focus being seeing straight. He failed.
He fell on top of Gerard, who caught him clumsily. Gerard let out a "woah!" and was trying to stabilize them both when Ray suddenly tightened his grip on both of Gerard's arms, and pushed him down on the carpet floor.
"Ow!" Gerard yelped as the back of his head hit the ground. He made to get up, but his efforts were futile. He heard Ray mumble something incoherently before he was delivered a punch in the face, the hardness of Ray's knuckles ramming into his left cheek.
"What the fuck Ray?!?" Gerard yelled out, but Ray continued to hit him. He covered every area of Gerard's face, while using the rest of his body to pin him down.
"Let's see how fucking pretty you are now!" Ray growled, continuing his reign of merciless fists.
Gerard struggled, but Ray was much too big for him to budge. He could taste the blood that was filling his mouth, and a movement of his tongue seemed to toggle a tooth that was breaking free of it's root. Gerard tried screaming at him again, but Ray would make no indication that he had even heard him.
The blood was leaking from the corners of his lips, its titled downward path looking like an odd red smile. Terrified to feel the fluid trickling out of him, Gerard lifted his head upwards and cried out, but Ray took that moment to stop punching and start choking.
Gerard was thrashing around much more violently now, his eyeballs bulging out of his sockets. The irises were alive with fear and panic. For reasons he himself could not understand, Ray savored the surprise of it all. In Gerard's dainty, pretty head, his thoughts must be a whirlwind of confusion and shock, and Ray loved it.
The pale skin beneath his hands began to fade into blue, and Ray had the sense to release him just in time. Gerard seemed like he was still trying to scream afterwards, but could not manage anything more than helpless, raspy noises.
He backed off, but he wasn't done. The angel dust wanted something more.
"Fucking whore." Ray breathed out as his hands began to grope Gerard's chest. He lifted Gerard's red The Cure shirt to expose a canvas of whiteness, broken only by two nipples and a belly button.
His fingers were moving impulsively, but they worked with the skill of a seasoned lover. They pinched in places, explored others, and finally traveled down to Gerard's sweatpants. Very easily removable.
Gerard still hadn't gotten his voice back.
The sweatpants came off to reveal --- surprise, surprise, blue underwear. Ray cupped the lumps that were gathered there in that cradle of blue. Gerard gasped, and then kicked Ray weakly. Ray shook his head, grabbed Gerard's right ankle, and twisted it until he heard a loud, very clear snap.
There was a trace of a scream that time.
Ray took momentary amusement with the sound and grabbed the other ankle, breaking that one as well. Gerard was writhing. As Ray moved forward again to take off the underwear, he could swear he heard Gerard muffling a sob.
He yanked them off anyway, revealing the balls and cock that thousands of young girls yearned for. He snickered.
"You're a small one."
Gerard was shaking. The complete exposure of his body had increased his already terrified state ten fold. He began an attempt to crawl away, but his ankles were in too much pain. He was doing nothing more than dragging his bottom half a few inches away from Ray. Ray scoffed at this and took off his own belt and jeans.
Sure, Gerard was the prettiest. But Ray was the strongest and the biggest.
He bent down and grabbed Gerard by the hair, yanking him up. Like a beast with its prey, or a dragon with its princess, he dragged Gerard over to one of the two bedrooms. Ray was so far gone, he wasn't paying attention to which one. He just knew he wanted to teach this little attention whore a lesson, right then and there.
Ray threw Gerard on the bed. Gerard was just this messy, pale, pile of limbs that were scrambling away, still trying to scream. Ray got the hand lotion that was in a nearby drawer, taking his time because he knew Gerard couldn't go far in the state he was in anyway. He rubbed some onto his erect cock, which was nearly throbbing in anticipation.
Just as he suspected, Gerard couldn't even get all the way off the bed.
"Don't fucking try that shit." Ray told him before throwing him back onto the high mattress. He climbed in bed with him then, already gripping one of Gerard's ass cheeks with his hand. He pulled it apart, revealing the asshole.
In the corner, he heard a meek, scared whimper. "Ray... Ray, please stop... you're not thinking right... Ray..."
Ray gave out a strange sounding, high pitched laugh in reply to Gerard's pleas. He then took the middle and index fingers of his right hand and proceeded to shove them into Gerard's entrance.
"Agggh!" came Gerard's strangled cry of discomfort. Ray plunged them in tighter, rubbing what he could of the inside. It felt nice and snug, and his anticipation grew.
Ray loved anal sex. He preformed it with Christa all the time. And while Ray was far from the fag that Gerard was, an ass was an ass -- whether it belonged to a man or woman. Gerard was sort of a mix between both, so it worked no matter which way you looked at it.
Satisfied with the finger fuck, and feeling the lotion on his dick beginning to dry, he advanced upon Gerard, positioning himself for total penetration. For a moment, he grasped both of Gerard's hips and could feel him trembling again.
"You're a fucking shitty singer." was all Ray said before he jammed himself into Gerard's hole, ramming himself in as hard as he could.
Gerard finally found his screams again.
Ray wasted no time in fucking Gerard as fast and as hard as possible. The clap of Gerard's cheeks against his pelvis echoed through the room, but was drowned out at times by Gerard's screaming.
"Aaaah! Aaah! Ray! Fuck it hurts! RAY!" Gerard shrieked as he was jerked back and forth violently, feeling his whole abdominal area being repeatedly and painfully squished together. "RAY FUCKING STOP!"
Ray would not listen, because he did not hear. All he heard was the squishing noise the lotion made every time Ray would push into him real deep, or the clapping noises that bounced off the walls. Because Gerard needed a good spanking, but more than just that.
All he felt was the rub of Gerard's anal canal, pulling against the skin of his dick. He moaned in its pleasure, gasping at the sensation. Gerard was just so tight.
Why hadn't he done this earlier? All these years on a tour bus with such an exquisite ass to fuck, wasted. No wonder Frank was so obsessed.
"AAAAAHHHHH!" Gerard screamed again, his sobbing finally unsuppressed. "RAY PLEASE DO ---"
The sound of the door opening interrupted them.
Other screams, the screams of another mingled in with Gerard's cries and Ray's moans.
There was a scuffle that Gerard couldn't see because he was in too much pain, and that Ray couldn't process because he was too high.
Gerard did manage to twist around for a moment, to see Frank slamming Ray hard against the wall. He was yelling something, but Gerard passed out before he could comprehend the words.
Three days later.
Ray had been fired from the band. This happened before Gerard even got to the hospital.
On the way back home from the cancelled tour, Frank, Mikey, James, and some particularly close crew members each took turns watching Gerard, sleeping with him at night, making sure he wasn't going to snap and stab himself with anything. For obvious reasons, he hadn't been of a sound mind since the incident.
It seemed to be a matter of not knowing who to trust anymore.
Of course, Gerard would always trust Mikey for the most part. And he would always remember that Frank had spent so much of his life protecting him, there was almost no way that Frank would ever harm him. But there was still that mystery, that question:
Ray had been like a brother to him, just as the other two were. And from the way Ray had acted most of the time, he felt the same way.
On a night when Frank was watching him, Gerard pondered this in his mind. It was difficult, focusing, as Frank stroked his fingers through Gerard's hair lovingly. They were cuddled up on a hotel bed, which was rather high, just like the one that --- Gerard shuddered in Frank's arms. Frank looked down on him, his eyes snapping open in alarm.
Gerard understood that he must have been falling asleep, but was trying to stay awake on Gerard's behalf.
"Go ahead and sleep." Gerard encouraged him, "I'm fine."
"I'm wide awake." said Frank, his voice contradicting his statement. "Why don't you sleep? Are you scared?"
His voice was hushed, worried. So unlike the teasing or sarcastic tones that usually came with Frank's words. It was unfamiliar, and it made something inside Gerard flutter.
"No... no I'm not." Gerard said in a less than convincing way. "I'm just thinking, is all. I need to think to fall asleep."
"That makes no sense." Frank remarked, "I'd think thinking would make you more awake. Just go to sleep. You're safe with me."
"I said I wasn't scared..." Gerard sighed.
"I know. I just want to remind you, that's all." Frank yawned, but pulled Gerard closer to him, tightening his grip as though to establish this safety physically as well as verbally.
"Oh... thanks." Gerard said lamely. Frank pressed his lips against his forehead, and Gerard felt a bit flushed. He burrowed his head into Frank's neck, and he heard Frank repeat sleepily.
"Shh... you're safe with me..."
There was a silence. Gerard stared mindlessly at the TV that was playing on mute. A rule enforced by Mikey. His brother dearest had been worried that the darkness of the room was causing his nightmares.
But Mikey was wrong.
Because even with every light in the entire suite on... they still came.
He still came.
"...If I was afraid..." Gerard spoke up suddenly, using the sound of his own voice to fight the chill that was creeping up on him in the quiet, "...which I'm not -- it's only because Ray was one of the few people that I felt certain that I knew, inside and out. A few weeks back, if you asked me if Ray had any problems with me, I would have said no, and I would have been sure of it. But now it's like... I feel like I don't know anyone."
"You know me." Frank slipped in. "Besides, Ray was high as all hell. It was the drugs acting, not necessarily him."
"Does that mean you or Mikey could fucking rape me too, if you were high enough?" Gerard questioned, the slightest edge of anger in his voice. He had been hearing this a lot, and it made sense, but somehow Gerard could not help but think of the drugs as an excuse. An excuse for something inexcusable.
"Of course not. That part -- that's on him. But I was talking with him just a few weeks ago, we had both snorted a bit of blow and I told him --- "
Frank stopped suddenly. Gerard looked up at him, and his eyes were suddenly wide, unlike the slits at the bottom of his closing eyelids that they had been a moment ago.
"Frank... Frank, what is it?"
Frank was frozen like that for a good moment before he snapped out of it, blinking multiple times. Gerard looked shaken.
"Oh it's nothing G, I just had a weird heart palpitation. It's passed." Frank said quickly, resuming the combing of Gerard's hair with his fingers.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Now go to sleep." Frank insisted, "We'll just talk more tomorrow."
"But -- "
"Sweetie, the sooner you sleep, the sooner I'll sleep."
He had gotten to the heart of the matter. Gerard exhaled and forced his eyes closed.
It wasn't when he was awake that he was afraid. He had been telling the truth about that. But in slumber, that's when he was terrified. He knew he would see him there. He knew he would experience that night again, only sometimes in twisted, stranger versions of it.
Perhaps Frank sensed something, picked up his hesitation to enter into the dream world -- as a second after he had shut his eyes, Frank began to sing to him softly, a song he knew as Calling Grace. The sound of his gentle voice, combined with the comforting caress of his hands, cradled Gerard into a full state of sleep, where he found no monsters. For Frank would keep him safe, just as he had promised.
Long after Gerard had fallen asleep, Frank stayed awake, simply staring at Gerard's sleeping form. His mind was retracing it's footsteps through his memories, from the moment Gerard told him a detailed account of what Ray had done, to the conversation he had had with Ray himself. Back to that day, when they had both been shoving blow up their noses.
"It's the first show of the tour." Frank had said, speaking to both Ray and James. "Me and Gerard should come out to sign."
"Yeah, but we're backed up on crew work right now." said James. "We need you guys to help out with packing the equipment. Ray can go out to sign, but I need you helping Matt, and Gerard's the only one who knows what to do with the mic stuff."
"Nah, no one wants to see Ray's ugly mug. They might think he's all they're getting this time around!" Frank laughed, grinning at Ray, who looked far from amused. "Seriously though, the fans want to see Gerard. Especially for that first show that's supposed to feel like this big come back -- Gerard's the prettiest. We need to put out our prettiest. Best foot forward, you know?"
Ray scoffed slightly. And suddenly, he got up and left, looking like the text book definition of the expression "walking off in a huff".
Did it have a connection?
They had shrugged it off and did not speak of it since. Even Ray had seemed relatively normal until the incident. Frank had figured he did not hold any sort of grudge about it.
After all, strange things happened when you're high. It wasn't him talking, it was the drugs talking. Because you get so far gone, that you become entirely possessed by the pills or the powder.
Looking down on Gerard's battered face, the bruises glared at him. He could almost hear them whisper: No powder or pill could have caused us. And while we may heal, the pain will be with him forever.
Frank shook his head and shut them out by closing his eyes.
He really needed to stop using.