He cursed the weather, wanting it to storm, rain or even snow again. He wanted the weather to represent how he felt, not taunt him with it's sunshine happiness. Gerard knew his parents were so close to arriving and he was a nervous wreck. He'd covered himself up as much as he could. His gloves and socks had reappeared and so had his scarf and large jacket.
"Gerard?" There was a knock and Gerard for the first time in hours tore his gaze away from the window, and towards the door on the opposite side of the room. He got off the window's ledge where he had been sat, but made no effort to acknowledge the voice. "Gerard?"
Gerard still said notching, but walked over to the door and opened it. He knew it was Frank, Frank's voice was one that Gerard loved to hear and so he knew it well. When the wooden door was opened, Gerard saw Frank with his hands in his jean pockets and a loose fitting shirt on. They looked at each other for a while before Frank finally spoke.
"Your parents are down stairs," Frank said, a little apprehensive of Gerard's reaction, "They want to see you."
Frank didn't know what to do anymore. He trusted Gerard and surely Gerard wouldn't make such a fuss about seeing his parents if all they did was call him names. Frank had tried to help Gerard's self esteem, so really meeting with the people who gave him life shouldn't be such a big deal for Gerard.
Gerard just nodded his head and took a deep breath. Frank walked down the stairs and Gerard followed closely behind, his heart feeling like it was in his mouth and was ready to fall out at any minute. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they turned left and looked into the living room. Mikey was sat on one couch, and his parents on the other. They all looked up simultaneously to stare at the arrivals.
Frank thought that Gerard's mother looked like the type of woman you would see at a church. Her graying blonde being curly and left to fall to just under shoulders. Her face was aging and there were stress lines on her face. Mr. Way was no different to his wife except his hair was losing more of it's color and there was a slight bald patch appearing.
"Hello Gerard," Gerard's mom spoke, her snobbishness being clear in her voice. Frank hated them both, but he wanted Gerard to have a relationship with his parents. It would be for the best. "I see you still wear all those cheap Gothic clothing even though you earn millions."
"U-um, H-hey Mom," Gerard stuttered, not coming any further into the room, but instead semi-hiding behind Frank. Frank didn't think he'd seen Gerard this nervous since the day that they met. But Frank was curious, why was Gerard so nervous? His parents weren't strangers..
"I always hated that your voice was so high," Gerard's mom spoke, "And really Gerard, we've told you countless times. It's Donna and Donald to you."
Frank gasped, an angry feeling settling in the pits of his stomach. "I thought you came here to make up with Gerard?"
Donna, Frank now felt obliged to call her, was looking at him with disgust and shock. "I'm shocked at you Franklin. I thought you'd be a good friend to Micheal, but you're spending all your time with his retard." As she spoke the word retard her gaze met with Gerard's and he cast his eyes down, tears escaping them.
"That's enough tears boy," Donald snapped, "Now come sit down so we can talk with you. Not that we fucking want to."
Frank was the first to move and he sat next to Mikey. Frank slowly made his way towards Mikey's ear as to not be noticed too much and then whispered in a shout, "You said they were sorry! You lying little cunt!"
"Yeah," Mikey nodded, "And you said we'd be best friend even if you spent all your time with Gerard. I guess we all lie sometimes."
"That's completely fucking different, you asshole!" Frank kept the same shout whispered volume as before but snapped his head away from Mikey's as he felt weight shift on the couch beside him.
"So, Mikey tells us that you two are dating," Donald spoke a look of disgust on his face as he looked between Frank and Gerard, "Is that true?"
Frank didn't know what to say. The truth was that they weren't dating, but if he said no would it sound like he never wanted to date Gerard? Because Frank was pretty sure he was head over heels.
"Well?" Donald asked, looking directly at Gerard.
"N-no. Da-Donald. We're not. I-I swear," Gerard stuttered out and wrapped his arms around his stomach, seemingly trying to protect himself. He was still crying, his back shaking as he tried to calm himself down.
"I don't believe you," Donna spat, "I always knew you were a fucking fag. You make me sick."
Donald looked ready to burst with disgust.
"I promise you that we're not dating," Frank spoke slowly appalled that they were behaving this way, "And I am truly disgusted at how awfully you're treating your son. I'd like you to get the fuck out of my house."
"Nobody fucking asked you fag," Donald raged and then stood up from beside his wife and walked towards Gerard, hauling him up by his jacket and forcing him to stand up. they were stood to the left of the coffee table that was between the two couches.
"Maybe we should kill you," Donald mused, "You were always a burden and we deserve your money for putting up with your shit."
Frank watched in horror as Donald pulled his fist back, ready to punch Gerard in his face. Frank couldn't explain what possessed him to do it, but he jumped up and got in the way of the hard punch that hit him right in the jaw. Donald didn't care who he had punched and punched again, this time Frank heard the sickening crack of his nose.
Frank's vision was turning black as he fell to the floor, the impact of the first punch having knocked his balance. Frank jaw had visibly moved to the left, while he felt his brain move to the right. And then everything became darkness as he hit something hard with the back of his head, the color red mixing with black in front of his eyes before he could feel nothing else.
A/N: I'm sorry that I have to leave it here, but oh well ;) What would be the point in giving you drama without a little suspense? So.. This was very sad to write )):
Um, I did actually research this. So I hope nobody like reads my search history:
- Is it possible for someone to be knocked into a comma?
- Worst injuries in fights
- Injuries to head with trauma
- How do you get amnesia?
- Can a punch knock someone unconscious?
Omg Hahahaha, imagine if my mum saw that.
Also, I'm sorry this took so long, it should have been posted sometime last week but I'm just seriously lazy and working on some other shit hahahaha xo