FicWad

Gerard's POV

Iero told me we had the same history class, but that's sort of what he said earlier today. Surely he isn't trying to pull some sort of trick on the gay kid? I knew he must have some problems with it, since he looked completely awkward during our whole conversation at my locker. Is he uncomfortable around me? Hopefully not; he seems like a cool guy.

"You wanna get to class before the bell rings?" he asked, touching my arm to indicate that he was going to walk with me. At least he was polite enough not to show he hated me for being gay until after he left my presence. He'd probably go join up with his friends and make fun of me after he got to his class, anyway.

"How can you be late to lunch?" I asked. "But I'll walk you to yours."

He blushed a little, then shrugged. "Okay."

He tried to make conversation with me as we walked down the hall. "So, how did you know you were gay?"

I knew it. I was going to tell him, and he would be completely creeped out and feel awkward around me for the rest of his life. I sighed and decided I would just tell him. I'd find new friends eventually, so who cares?

"Well, it was a couple of years ago, in seventh grade. I was new to some school in Newark, since my parents were always making me switch schools. I was getting myself into depression and shit, and I never made friends easily." I looked at him to see if he still cared, and found him looking back at me with interest.

"Go on," he said quietly.

"Well, I met this kid named Bert, and we hit it off quite nicely, considering he got me into drugs and alcohol. Don't worry, I've stopped now," I added, noting the concern in his face. "But imagine a kid in seventh grade, being, what, twelve? And addicted to drugs and alcohol. I tried to quit, but Bert would keep pressing it on me, telling me he loved me when I knew he was drunk or high. I don't know why I believed him, but I did."

"So you and Bert... loved each other?" Frank asked, trying to fully understand.

"Yeah," I said, shuddering. I hadn't forgotten what Bert had done to me to "prove" he loved me. "A lot."

"But he got you into drugs and shit?"

"Yeah. I tried to quit, but he told me he would... do awful things to me if I did, so I couldn't bring myself to do so. Eventually, when I wasn't afraid of him anymore, I finally did quit, and he..." I stopped, unwilling to go on. Then I noticed we'd stopped outside a classroom door. "Is this your class?" I asked Frank, and he shook his head embarrassedly.

"Sorry, I was thinking about your story. Let's keep walking," he said, motioning for me to continue. At that moment, the bell rang, and he was late to class. "Shit, I've got detention," Frank groaned under this breath.

"Not if you skip class," I said with a smirk, and he took my hint and we started to go off-campus.

As we turned the corner that got us away from the school, Frank urged me to continue my story.

"Well, Bert wasn't being much help, for the reason that he never went to class since he was always high. So I started going home and getting drunk by myself; it sucked. I never had any money, and I felt shitty all the time, but I couldn't stop. Where are we going?"

"Right here." We were at a park, where an old lady was feeding a bunch of pigeons across a grassy patch that separated some benches. We sat on a park bench to relax, and I debated on telling him the rest of my story. I wasn't sure if I should be telling a potential homophobe my past, but he seemed nice and interested, so I told him what I'd been keeping a secret since seventh grade.

"Then one day, another boy showed up. He was a kid that seemed to be in my situation, before the alcohol and drugs. You know, depressed and such." Frank nodded. "And he wanted to help me. Of course, I didn't trust him at first, which is understandable. I didn't trust anyone, not even my parents or Mikey. I still don't." I fell silent; Mikey was still a hard topic to discuss, even now.

"Mikey?"

"My brother. Not important."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"Forget Mikey, okay?" I snapped. I didn't mean for it to come out sounding harsh, but I think it did, since Iero fell silent.

"Sorry," he mumbled quietly, waiting to hear the significance of the new boy in my story.

"I don't know how he did it, but somehow the kid I was telling you about got me to trust him, and when he asked me to be his boyfriend, I said yes."

"Oh," Frank nearly whispered. God forbid that kid ever talked loud.

I couldn't take it anymore; I just had to ask. "Does this bother you? My being gay?" I looked at his facial expression; it didn't change, except for him peeking up to glance at me.

"No," he said after a while. He sure sounded sincere, and he confirmed that by looking me in the eye when he answered. "It doesn't. Not like I thought it would, to be honest." Words couldn't describe chow much I wanted to fling my arms around him in a hug right then.

Frank's POV

This is a scary surprise. Gerard's homosexuality doesn't bother me. At all. Like, I'm okay with it. And I appreciate Gerard a whole lot more, now that I know some of the shit that he's been through. I mean, threats from Bert about quitting drinking and drugs? And such a young age, too. I felt closer to Gerard, and then I didn't know what to think.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You look a little... uneasy. I shouldn't have told you that much," Gerard said hurriedly, his face turning an adorable shade of pinkish-red.

"No! Please, go on. I'm not uneasy at all!" God, that was an awkward thing to say. Suddenly I felt like a middle school girl with a crush. I gasped. A crush? "Gerard, tell me how you knew you were gay. If you can. Please?" He could probably tell I was nervous by his upcoming answer since my sentences were short and stuttered, and I was talking extremely fast. But I really wanted to know, since it might be applicable to me as well.

"Well..." he started slowly. Was that a look of suspicion in his eyes? "I don't know if I should say. Sorry, Frank."

"No!" I shouted, maybe a little too loud. I turned; sure enough, the little old lady was looking in our direction, and dumped what was left of the pigeon food in a trail around the bench and left the park. Back to Gerard, I pleaded him to tell me, but he paused before telling me the rest. Surely he didn't regret telling me his past?

"He and I started going out, and pretty soon everyone knew. Bert included; God, he made it so hard to quit. But my new boyfriend helped me, telling me he loved me and making everything alright again. Bert couldn't stand the thought of me with another guy, however: he tried to make my boyfriend's life a living hell every chance he got, and that included sending him to the hospital on multiple accounts. Thank God my boyfriend was stronger than I was -- am. It was then that I decided that since he was practically sacrificing himself to Bert to help me, I would do all I could to help myself and him. His love and willingness to save my ass was my inspiration to quit drinking and doing drugs."

I froze as a tear started to form in his eye, though he quickly caught it and wiped it away with a sniff. "It was also what killed him."

This last bit shocked me. "Killed?"

He looked back at me. "Yes, killed. Bert, on another one of his late-night highs, came over to my house one night when my boyfriend was over, and he brought a knife. I had to watch the asshole that ruined my life stab the one that saved it, and it killed me to watch my boyfriend -- my savior -- die right in front of me. It killed me that I was -- still am so unbelievably weak to doing anything to stop Bert. There was nothing I could do to save my boyfriend, and to watch Bert walk away as if nothing had happened, high as hell..." He couldn't even get the last few words out, he was crying so hard. I struggled to hold back my own tears as I pulled Gerard into a hug, trying to reassure him that it was in the past.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other on the park bench while Gerard tried to regain himself on my shoulder. It was hard putting my head around the whole story. No one would have known just by looking at Gerard that he'd been a former addict, or that he was verbally abused by an ex-boyfriend, or that he witnessed the death of the person he loved most. He's come a long way since then; he's a hell of a lot stronger than he gives himself credit for.

I felt myself growing angry with Bert, and wanted to get some sort of revenge for Gerard, but it had been a while since the incident and I didn't want to stir up ancient history. After a few solid minutes of thinking and reassuring, I realized Gerard was special, and he desperately needed to know that.

"I'm here for you, Gee. It'll be okay," I whispered. I don't even think he heard me. "I promise."