"Maybe you're right, Frank. I can't trust you after all."
This chapter was a little hard to write. We finally find out what the UPS guy brought (even though I don't particularly come out and say it .)
Also, more sex crazed super psycho Gerard in this chapter! Weeeeee
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words and ideas.
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The next morning, Frank awoke to a tugging sensation on his ankle. He kicked, shaking off whatever it was, only for it to return again. He groaned and rolled over, fringe flopping over the pillows. He gripped the bed sheets, noticing a silkier texture that did not belong to the sheets in his room. He spread out a little more, ignoring the tugging on his leg. The bed he was in wasn't his; it was bigger and softer and didn't give that annoying creak whenever he moved. Then he remembered.
He was in Gerard's bed.
He, Frank Iero, had slept in the same bed as a maniac last night. Gerard could've done anything to him while he was asleep. He struggled to remember the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and digging into the deepest crevices of his brain.
The newscast. The screaming. The photo. The fire. The room full of newspaper articles. It all came rushing back to Frank in one big wave, overwhelming him. He and Gerard had talked into the late hours of the night. Gerard had told Frank that his brother was dead, that his father had killed him. He'd said that he then beat his father.
He told Frank that he was a killer.
Frank's eyes snapped open and he shot up, the blankets pooling around his waist. He felt a breeze, and looking down, noticing that he was clad only in his boxers. 'Oh, god. What happened last night?' he thought, dreading the answer.
Gerard's smiling face at the foot of the bed brought him out of his thoughts. "Morning, Frankie!" he giggled, continuing to fiddle with Frank's ankle, confirming the boy's suspicions of what was causing the tugging.
"Gerard?" Frank rasped, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing? What happened last night? We didn't do anything, did we?"
Gerard chuckled, pulling out a screwdriver and continuing to work at what Frank saw as a device attached to his ankle. "No, we didn't have sex last night, if that's what you're wondering. And if you really must know, I'm just doing some things to give me some more...reassurance, you could say."
"What does that mean?" Frank asked suspiciously, sitting up and gaping at the device. "Gerard, what is that?" the boy whimpered, fear gripping him suddenly.
Gerard's smile remained and he shushed the trembling boy on the bed. "Shh, it's not a big deal. Calm down, babe." He pulled back. "There. All done."
Frank hesitantly leaned down and tapped the device, looking up at Gerard in confusion.
"It's an anklet, Frankie. I just wanted to make sure you don't run off on me. I never want my Frankie to leave me." He smiled slightly, running his long fingers through Frank's soft black locks. "Basically, if you go past the front porch, this anklet shocks you. If you go within a ten foot radius of the porch, the anklet starts to beep as a warning."
Frank simply stared at Gerard in disbelief. Tears were now beginning to make their way down his pale face. "I was just beginning to think we could trust each other," the boy whimpered. "I guess I was wrong. You don't trust me at all."
Gerard shook his head. "No, no, no, sweetie. I trust you, I really do. I just want to have some sort of reassurance that you won't change your mind and run." He took the crying boy's hand between his larger ones. "Oh, baby. Oh, sugar, it's alright. It's okay. Come on, hun. Gerard will make you some breakfast." He threw Frank a pile of clothes, the boy putting them on quickly.
Frank wiped at his eyes, glaring at Gerard. "How do I know you won't put something in it, huh? How do I know you won't drug me again?"
Gerard said nothing, his lips drawn in a thin line. He grabbed Frank's hand and stood, attempting to pull the boy towards the door, but Frank wouldn't have it. He dug his feet into the plush carpeting, grabbing onto the bedpost. Gerard yanked harder, the boy's grip slipping, causing him to crash into the taller's chest, who immediately wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry, Frankie. Please, do you think you can learn to trust me again?" Gerard pleaded, eyes searching the shorter's own hazel orbs. Frank scowled. The older man frowned, his sad expression showing his defeat.
He grabbed Frank's hand again, bringing him out into the hallway and downstairs, making their way into the kitchen, the boy grimacing the whole time. Gerard left him stand in the middle of the large kitchen while he worked about on the counter, preparing breakfast. He began humming a tune under his breath which Frank couldn't be bothered trying to name right now. All of his focus was on the door not even fifteen feet away. Sneaking a glance back at Gerard, he noticed the raven haired man was too busy and caught up in his own world to know what Frank was doing. The boy slowly turned back around and began inching towards the door, one step at a time.
He didn't dare breath. One little noise could alert Gerard of his escape attempt, and Frank really was not in the mood for the killer to lash out at him.
Frank willed the floor not to creak, his heart stopping when he heard Gerard drop a pan. He looked back at him to see him pick it up, cursing and returning to his work. He continued tip toeing along the tile until he finally made it to the door. He was just about to reach it, his fingers just about to wrap around the brass knob of freedom when-
Frank heard Gerard drop the pan again, this time instead yelling a, "Frank! Where do you think you're going?" Frank screamed and jiggled the door handle, the knob becoming a hundred times harder to twist in his panic. He finally wrenched it open, throwing himself out onto the porch and catching himself on the banister. He turned, seeing Gerard rushing towards him. Completely forgetting about the shrieking anklet, Frank dove down the steps and onto the dusty ground, rolling and feeling a horrible sense of deja vu.
He quickly got to his feet and ran, barely even making it three feet before he felt a burning sensation climbing up his leg. He looked down and saw the anklet flashing red, screeching in pain as the electricity traveled through him. He dropped to the ground, convulsing wildly while screaming for Gerard to make it stop. Finally, after a few seconds, the anklet stopped and Frank was left on the ground, gasping for breath. He squinted as a shadow loomed over him.
Gerard kneeled down next to the shaking boy, stroking his sweaty hair. He frowned and shook his head. "Maybe you're right, Frank." He stood up, bringing his foot back and kicking Frank hard in the ribs, the boy groaning in agony. "I can't trust you after all."
He leaned down, picking the boy up bridal style and carrying him back up the steps and into the house. He brought him back into the kitchen, throwing him into one of the chairs at the table, the younger letting out a small squeak. Gerard brought out a pair of handcuffs from a drawer behind him, looping them through the chair and attaching them around Frank's wrists, rendering him immobile.
"You'd be surprised how many pairs of these I have laying around the house," he chuckled, the smaller whimpering in fear. "Lady working the day I bought them all probably thought I was some fucking psychotic S&M freak." His eyes darkened and he licked his lips, eyeing Frank once more. "Which of course I am."
Frank's breathing quickened and he pulled on the chains binding him to the chair. Gerard kneeled so that he was eye level with the kid, taking his chin between his pale fingers. The older's jade eyes were filled with nothing but lust and anger, while Frank's were filled with fear and betrayal. Gerard stood, running his hands down the boy's thighs as he did.
"Now, are you gonna sit there like a good boy and let me finish cooking or am I gonna have to keep you there all day?" he purred, squeezing Frank's knee.
"Fuck you," he spat.
Gerard fluttered his long, black eyelashes at him, smirking devilishly. "Maybe later, sugar."
Frank looked taken aback. Even chained to a chair by a sex crazed psychopathic murderer, Frank Iero could still do one thing. His brought his foot back, swinging it forward and nailing Gerard right in the balls. Said man squeaked a little before falling on his side, gasping. He glared up at Frank, green eyes burning with rage.
"Oh, sugar, you just wait. Later on, you're dead meat."