The first days of their new home: Hell. Sorry for the wait! *freaked out face* Please don't throw rocks...I hope you haven't forgotten who I am! Please READ AND REVIEW!!!!
A/N- OH MY GOD!!!! Guess what? My fan-girlish fan dreams are coming true. How? My Chemical Romance and HIM are fucking touring together this summer! AND THEY'RE COMING TO MY STATE!!!!!! YES!!!! Do you understand this? This is legendary, guys. Legendary. I've dreamed of Gerard and Ville meeting. AND NOW IT'S COMING TRUE!!!! Maybe they'll kiss. dreamy look I know Ville kissed Bert McCracken (sp?) of The Used, so, maybe...I hope. AND I SO AM GOING!!!!! does happy dance Enjoy...
Warnings/Important Information: See first chapter. (No, really. You need to read that shit. Don't just skip over it.)
April 29, 2007: That Disgusting Van
I don't know how long we drove. It seemed like hours, but maybe because it was such an uncomfortable ride. I still wasn't scared. I just felt really guilty for putting Gerard in this situation.
But the van was so disgusting. There were no seats in it; they must've been ripped out (poorly). The floor was not carpeted, but I don't even think it was the floor. Like, the under layer of rusty metal was what we were lying on. It was rough, and my bare arms were getting cut every time we hit a bump. I was lying on top of my arms on my back, and my shoulders ached as my arms were slowly going numb.
Gerard was lying next to me. His body was unmoving; in an awkward position due to the fact that he was still laying the way he was when he first got thrown in. It was too dark too see, but the streetlamps lighting the van like a strobe light showed me quick flashes of his bloodied face. His eyes weren't open. And I was pretty sure that his nose was broken.
After awhile, my eyes got heavy. I knew it was a bad idea to put my guard down, but...the engine was lulling me to sleep. So I gave in.
April 30 (I think), 2007: No Idea Where I Was
When I woke up, I immediately started to scream. Loudly. I screamed and I pulled against my restraints and I cried and I struggled. I don't know why.
Maybe it was because when I opened my eyes, and they adjusted to the dim light, I was in an unrecognizable room. The room was small, empty, gray, and cold. It had gray cement floor, and gray brick walls, and a gray door with no fucking knob. No way out. There was a single flickering light bulb swinging from the ceiling, barely illuminating the sheer nothingness.
Maybe it was because the room was empty. Gerard wasn't in there. I was alone. And seeing that I was alone, when I /knew /Gerard had been with me, I was overcome with terror.
Maybe it was because when I woke up, I instantaneously remembered the bar and Samuel and that awful van. I remembered what that bitch had done to Gerard. And I felt the ropes biting into my wrists behind my back and around my ankles.
Unable to stand up, I did the only thing I could think of: make someone hear me. Make them come and see what the noise was about. I remember hoping, no, praying that I was in a populated area. A basement of some residential neighborhood house.
I was crying, tears running down my cheeks. My voice cracked, my throat was so dry. I was thirsty and hungry, my last meal having been the day before, at lunch. No light was shining into room from the tiny window high in the wall to the left of me, so I knew it was night.
The window being so small and high up also told me I was underground, because I could slightly see what looked to be grass against it.
After about five minutes straight of screaming, with no response, I shut my mouth and sniffled, trying to stop crying and to think rationally. Think like Gerard would, /I told myself, /think rationally. Assess the situation and figure out a solution.
So I did.
I glanced around the room, and tugged on the binds on my wrist and my ankles, took note of all possible escape routes, and tried to think if I was hurt.
Okay, I thought, none of me hurts so I think I'm okay. I'm still wearing what I was wearing, so I wasn't sexually assaulted. OH, GOD, GERARD!!! /I sucked in a deep breath, and shook my head wildly. /Focus, Frank! Freaking out isn't going to help! I bit my lip, somehow managing to focus again./ Okay, for some reason he stole my shoes and socks...so that's missing. It doesn't feel like I have anything in my back pockets, so he also stole my wallet. He probably took my cell phone and my keys, because it'd be stupid not to. And this dude sure as hell isn't stupid. He's also strong, to be able to lift Gerard and I so easily. I wonder if he knows if we're famous./
And that was the question of the day. If he was a crazed fan who'd been forever dreaming about fucking us, we were screwed. He'd kill us if we refused, and he'd probably kill us after he realized we weren't the gods he'd been mistakenly led to believe.
Or maybe he just wants a ransom. He could hold us for a pretty good price, because we are famous and have people who would pay a ton to have us back.
Perhaps he didn't even realize we were famous. Maybe he just...I shook my head. That route still had one of us getting raped. And it'd probably be Gerard, because I know I saw lust in those blue eyes. I know I saw it.
Tears suddenly filled my eyes again, because with Gerard missing, it didn't leave much hope for me. I knew what was happening to him, I just didn't want to believe it. So I didn't. I pretended that Gerard was just in a separate room, in the same situation as I.
But that didn't do much to console me. I didn't want Gerard to be hurt. I didn't want him to be in pain. I loved him.
But, at the same time...I was glad it wasn't me. I am so disgusted with myself to admit that. I still cannot believe I would be so selfish to think that way about my lover, the man who'd stood by my side for so long. I didn't want him to be hurt, but I really didn't want myself to be hurt. Which is disgusting to say on my part, but a back part of my mind kept nagging me, telling me how I really felt.
I don't know how long I sat there, drowning in those thoughts. I was quiet, not crying or screaming. I just sat there, my face a mask of worry and fear. New fears were then beginning to gnaw at my already troubled mind, and I was unable to push them back.
What if he doesn't feed you? You'll starve to death if you don't eat soon. And you won't last long without water, either. What will you do if you have to use the bathroom? Where's Gerard? Does anyone notice you're gone? Did he forget about you? What if he's a mass murderer, and you're just another victim to him? Does he know you're famous? Where's Gerard? Is he going to rape you? Did he kill Gerard already? Are you dead already? Is this a dream? Where's Gerard? What if-? Did he-? Where's-?
The questions swirled around my mind angrily, coming and going so quickly I couldn't even think about the answer. I didn't even realize it, but now, I realize that I was subconsciously refusing to even think Samuel's name. I also now realize that Gerard was always at the top of my unanswered questions list. Even though I put myself at the top of my worries, I found myself to be literally sick over what was going on with Gerard.
As I said before, I loved him.
It was dull, sitting there in that room with nothing but my thoughts. Time passed slowly, or quickly, I had no way of telling. I had nothing to gauge time except for the little window, and the light shining through. Soon, a single beam of sunlight illuminated the room, and I ecstatic. It was morning. And morning meant someone would notice us being gone.
Mikey would call Gerard, or me, or our apartment phone and there'd be no answer. He'd get worried and come over, and then he'd see the place empty. He'd then call our phones again and get no answer. Mikey, being overprotective as I knew he was, would call the police. And then we'd be saved.
I knew Mikey would call us, because we had plans together that day. We were supposed to go to breakfast. I knew that Mikey was the first person I could rely on to figure out something was wrong. So I tried to stay awake, almost expecting to hear the resounding cry of, "POLICE! OPEN UP!" from upstairs. The sound of our rescue. I was so awfully hopeful on that first day.
Eventually, I dozed off, my back against the wall and my chin against my chest with my bound legs stretched out in front of me.
Sometime During the Afternoon or Evening of April 30th: Hell
I was jerked awake by the sound of a door creaking open eerily, like they do in those creepy movies I knew then I'd never watch again.
My head snapped up, and I tried to focus. My vision was blurry from sleep so I blinked furiously. My eyes widened in horror as soon as my vision cleared.
There, in the doorway, stood Samuel, that sick grin firmly placed on his lips. He held a limp figure in his arms, the naked body I immediately recognized as Gerard.
"No...," the word slipped from my lips, falling uselessly to the ground as I gaped open-mouthed. Samuel stepped into the room, dropping Gerard like he was a worthless bag of garbage. Gerard hit the ground with a dull thud, his head lolling to face me. His eyes were shut, his skin a pasty white I'd never seen on someone who was alive before. His chest rose and fell unsteadily.
I squeezed my eyes shut as waves of anger and fear rolled over me, my fists clenched so tightly my nails bit into my skin.
"What did you do to him?" I asked between clenched teeth, my voice low and dangerous. Samuel smirked.
"He was good in bed, Frankie. Though, he's not much for kink. Didn't like the handcuffs too much. But I can see why you're still with him. He's so pretty, you can almost imagine you're with a girl."
I lost it. My vision went red, and I began to struggle, and hard.
"Fuck you!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Fuck you! Don't you /ever /touch him again, you bastard! Fuck you!"
Samuel laughed this time, the sound ringing in my ears like an evil toll bell. It made me stop moving, silent tears still rolling down my cheeks as I watched angrily as he stepped toward me, a small pocket knife in his hand.
"Better calm down, Frank. I am going to cut off the ropes, if you promise that you won't try anything."
I narrowed my eyes and asked suspiciously, "Why would you do that?"
Samuel kneeled next to me, and replied, "I need someone to clean Gerard up, and make him feel better. You know, so he doesn't die."
My eyes widened as I gasped, "Did you hurt him?" It was a stupid question, but Samuel knew what I meant.
"I was a bit rough, but I don't know if he got any other injuries. He does scream a lot, though. I had to shut him up."
I bit my lip and, lowering my head, said, "Untie me. I won't do anything stupid."
He nodded, pulling away from the wall and gripping my wrists. I heard him sawing through the ropes, and curiosity overwhelmed me.
"Have you heard of My Chemical Romance?"
I heard him chuckle from behind me, and that made me angry for some reason. But I knew I couldn't try anything.
"Of course," he answered. "Gerard's written every song for me. That's why I knew we had to be together. But, I didn't mean for you to get caught up in this. But I had my perfect chance last night, even though you were there. I guess it's a good thing, because now Gerard won't be lonely and so afraid."
This wasn't good. Well, it was for me, kind of, because I wasn't the target. But it wasn't good for Gerard. This dude was crazy. He thought that Gerard wrote the love songs for him. Oh, Lord, please help us...
I drew in a shaky breath as Samuel pulled away, and I began rubbing my sore wrists, trying to get some feeling into them. The skin was torn and bloodied, in an almost perfect ring. But it wasn't deep, so there was nothing significantly wrong.
Samuel was walking away, toward the door, and I cried out, "Wait!" He paused, turning to look at me.
"What? I untied your wrists, what more could you want?" His voice had a tinge of annoyance to it.
I blinked, and whispered, "What about food? And water? Where do I...you know...?"
Samuel let out a frustrated groan, and replied, "I'll feed you two once every day, around four when I get home from work. And go in a corner."
I blinked, my eyes widening. I couldn't help it. "Ewww..."
"Be glad I don't kill you," Samuel said angrily, storming from the room and slamming the door shut. He had no need to lock the door, because there was no doorknob. But I heard a distinct click anyway.
I was alone now, with Gerard. The light was still strongly flowing into the room, and it was illuminating Gerard's painfully white face.
I swallowed hard. Half of me wanted to go over to Gerard and scoop him into my arms, and just hold him until he woke up. But the other half of me was afraid. I didn't want to go near him. I didn't want him to wake up and look at me with the same pain he used to have in his eyes, but for a worse reason.
I didn't want him to have the same hurt he used to.
I worked so hard to erase that pain, to make his eyes sparkle and dance. They never used to, but I like to think I helped him get better. I didn't want all that work to be gone because of one sick fuck of a man.
All that indecision was instantly gone when I heard a soft groan come from him, his chapped lips parted oh so slightly.
It's safe to say my heart skipped a beat.
His head lolled to the side, facing me. And then, his hazel eyes flickered open, blinking rapidly from the light shining into them. Once his eyes were adjusted, they focused on me.
"Gerard?" I questioned softly, crawling over to him slowly, so as to not upset him. I was praying he wasn't going to be the emotional mess I was certain he would be.
He stared at me, as if he was confused. And then, he opened his mouth and asked something I'll never be able to answer.
"Why do people hurt each other?"
A/N- Sorry for the wait. This story is pretty hard to write. I have no idea how a person reacts to this kind of situation, and it's all guesses. So, yeah. Sorry in advance for any inaccurate info or any character reactions you deem unrealistic. Just tell me, and I'll try to fix it. Thanks, and please review. I miss you, reviewers! Where'd ya go?