FicWad

Now I’m on a plane
Off singing my songs again, oh please don’t think ill of it
Cause it’s the reason I exists
But you, you’re the crutch of a cripple
You're the calm of a conscience
You're the peace that I have found
When all these voices talk too loud you are quietly reassuring me
With the hands of a healer
And the tongue of a teacher
It’s your voice that I have known
To be the first one on the phone
Yeah, you ran all the lights to the hospital.

Frank’s P.O.V.

Eagerly my body found itself shifting into the contours of his firm yet soft body, melting specifically to his shape as if he were made only for me. Truly that is what I longed to believe knowing my undying love for this magnificent creature. However, I wasn’t the only one who loved him and as much as I hate to accept it, I’m certainly not the only one that has his heart. The very thought that there was another miles away, snuggled in bed dreaming of him with the possibility that he might be thinking of her too, well that kills me. Literally my heart convulses and shrivels at the thought, knowing that the one I might have secured in my grasp isn’t fully my own, isn’t completely emotionally here. I know I shouldn’t complain but should savor the beauty in knowing that I at least do hold the larger portion of his heart, but it doesn’t stop the ache in knowing she holds a fraction of it. Maybe it’s a small bit, almost microscopic… but it’s still something that I am without and can never have.

Yes, I am selfish when it comes to this lovely masterpiece that is Gerard, but when his eyes are washing over my body, when his love swelling in my veins, it’s hard not to crave and need the entire package. Of course it would be hypocritical of me to think all of this seeing as I myself am married to Jamia, and yes, I do love and care for her… just not like this. Nothing could be compared to what I feel for this man, nothing. So many times I’ve wished that I would have made my feelings known to him from the very beginning, the first time his lips plunged against my own at a show in the basement of a Skeleton Crew record house, the first time that spark of electricity shot through my system and left me on a permanent static shock buzz.

I still so vividly remember that kiss, the feel of every soft crease etched in his pale lips, the way his lips perfectly molded to the shape of my own, the tint of peppermint and coffee flavoring that swelled from his mouth and mingled with my own taste. I still feel the tingle of his fingers on my cheek, the warmth of his body pressed against my own, the tickle of his raven strands of hair against my face and the memory truly was a beautiful one. When we parted from that kiss the realization had hit us both, I’m certain of it now. Judging by the emerald glow coating his orbs, the slight nervous shaking in the palms of his hands, the deep breaths of precipitation parting his lips as he stared deeply into my shock stricken, yet satisfied eyes. His stare bore into my flesh the remainder of the show, his lyrics slurring a bit clumsily as he tried to multitask, keeping his focus on me.

It’s become so apparent now exactly what it is he felt after we shared that cherished kiss, but somehow it never had occurred to me then that he might have felt it too. Oh how I wish I would have known so that feelings could have been openly expressed rather than being denied and buried… because if we would have admitted right there, then I wouldn’t have met Jamia for the first time at the next show, I wouldn’t have been hopelessly and unknowingly twirled into her care and devotion. I would have been with Gerard. None of this would be happening.

I sighed in defeat, burying my face against his warm chest in an attempt to hide the tears. A soft hand slipped beneath my chin, attempting to lift it but failing as I pressed my face harder against his chest, wrapping my arms around his torso securely.

“Baby… what’s wrong?” his soft voice pleaded as he cupped my cheek in his warm, comforting hands. I shook my head, shutting my eyes tightly, repressing the stream of inevitable tears that were leaking from them.

“N-nothing, I’m fine” I croaked weakly against his shirt, not able to keep the shake from my voice. If anything I didn’t want him noticing this, we were supposed to be happy, enjoying the plane ride to freedom; not grieving and regretting a mistake in the past. He gently lifted my chin, peering into my swimming eyes worriedly, scanning every crease in them for a hint of explanation. He opened his mouth to comment but I placed a finger to his lips, shaking my head.

“I’m fine, baby, I promise. Just talk to me please. I need to know what’s happening, where we are going, what happened to bring us here, what Lyn Z told Jamia… I just need to fully understand these things, so please fill me in” I whispered, staring into his deep hazel pools of light. He pulled me into his lap, wrapping one arm around my torso, twirling a lock of my hair with his free hand as he watched my face intently, trying to find a way to word his response. I leaned into his gentle touch, kissing the palm of his hand softly as I watched his lovely face, patiently awaiting his explanation.

“Well… I, uh… Lyn Z found out I guess you could say, somehow she just knew and she accused me of it and I just couldn’t lie to her…” he mumbled quietly, his voice slowly halting as he saw the blank stare that washed over my face. I could feel the blood washing through my body, boisterously catapulting to my stomach where it viciously fought with the adrenaline that prickled throughout my organs and under my skin. I was suddenly aware of every tiny detail around me, the smell of citrus oranges and coca-cola that seeped through the atmosphere from the tiny little waitress kitchen, the disgusting stench booze and cigars that snaked out of the mouth of the man snoring behind us, the thunderous roar of the plane as it propelled through the air, rocking me side to side gently as I sat in Gerard’s lap, the disgusted and appalled murmurs of the passengers in the surrounding area as their homophobic eyes practically raped mine and Gerard’s flesh for our displays of affection. All of this was so apparent to me now yet at the same time I hardly noticed it at all, I felt entirely numb but I ironically took the lightest touches sensitively.

“Gerard… why did you tell her… how could you, you know how much that is risking, Gerard! It’s got to be hurting her, she’s going to rat it out to the rest of the world!” I hissed frantically, pulling away from him a bit as my eyes scoured his face in complete shock.

“Shh, baby, calm down, let me finish” he murmured, grabbing my wrists softly and pulling me back toward him causing me to fall against his chest comfortably. “I know she shouldn’t know but if you just would have seen her face… I couldn’t lie to her Frank, I just couldn’t. I mean it’s not like I just jumped out and said it for no reason, she had been crying for weeks, Frankie, weeks. She kept begging me to tell her what was going on, what was wrong, I had to tell her… God if you would have just seen her face you would understand…” he mumbled weakly, dropping his gaze to focus on the tarnished grey fabric of the chair as he pinched a tiny blue thread between his fingers, attempting to rip it from the chair.

I shook my head, watching the pained expression of his beautiful face as he remembered the way she had looked at him, it make my stomach turn, ache. His face remained turned down, his lovely jade eyes glaring at the stubborn thread that refused to displace itself from the chair, and even though he seemed to be full of frustration toward the tiny, meaningless thread, I knew it wasn’t the only thing bothering him. It was simply a mere cover up to keep me from discovering the fact that something truly was paining him and it more likely than not had to do with Lyn Z. I sighed exasperatedly as I continued watching his beautiful profile intently. Surely there had to be a reason that ran deep, a true reason that made him tell her… I mean why would she just guess, how could she just guess? Why was she crying to begin with… I titled my head to the side, examining his expression further, knowing that my stare was making him uncomfortable because his hands began to shake nervously. Why should he be nervous?

“Gerard… Why did you tell her?” He sighed and furrowed his brows at the piece of string, scraping at it, causing it to unravel into several other little strands of fabric.

“I just told you, Frank, if you would have seen her face when she asked m—”

“But why was she asking you, surely she had to have a reason. Why on earth would she just bound up to you in the middle of your giddy, sunny day and ask you if you were with me? It doesn’t make sense, Gerard,” I questioned, as he bit his lip anxiously, twisting the little threads into a frantic and sloppy ball as his hands shook more violently than before. I frowned at the sight of this beautiful boy, the fact that whatever had been happening was deteriorating him into a tense, panicky stature, well it bothered me, disturbed me, ate at me.

“Gee…” I pressed, covering his hand with own, squeezing it gently as I felt the quivering transferring through my own palms. He took in a shaky breath as he kept his stare locked on our hands.

“She was crying and upset with me, worried, she just came up to me and asked, it’s as simple as that…” he whispered quietly, eyes flickering to focus on the uncovered, luminous glass window as numerous puffs of fuzzy clouds slithered by throughout the darkening evening sky.

“Baby, why was she crying, why was she worried? There has to be reasons, I know you aren’t telling me things…”

“You didn’t tell me some things either…” he murmured beneath his breath quietly, obviously not intending for me to hear it as clearly as I had.

“What?” I asked, staring at his face in utter confusion, waiting expectantly for an answer I knew wouldn’t come. Why is it that all my serious, longing questions are becoming the rhetorical ones? I growled in slight frustration before straddling his lap and taking his face into my hands, forcing him to look in me. His liquid pools of emeralds peered cautiously into my own, masked in a type of high guard, not actually allowing me to see any deeper than the reflective surface. In fact, all I could see in those magnificent hazel eyes was just my pathetic reflection, not at all anything I wanted to see. I huffed, shoving the tiny strands of hair from my face as I cupped his face in my hands desperately, resting my forehead against his own.

“Please, Gee, please… You are fucking killing me. Is it so hard to just let me know?” I begged, feeling the tears start to prickle in the corners of my eyes as I stared in his lovely face. His tense eyes softened, melting down a bit into a slightly more readable stance. He rested a warm, silky hand against my face, gently caressing my cheek.

“I had been moping around the house pathetically since the day I had gotten home, Lyn Z didn’t understand why I was so upset, she didn’t know it was because of my regrets for what I had said to you. So throughout that entire time she followed me around faithfully, practically digging at my heels every second of every day, begging me to tell her what was wrong; but I knew I couldn’t. Then finally after weeks of it simply became irritating, driving me over the edge with her constant questions. I snatched up the wine glasses from our wedding and threw them to the ground in front of her, I wouldn’t have hit her with them, I’d fucking shoot myself if I did that… but… I just wasn’t thinking… she broke down crying and stayed locked in her room for days. I hurt her so bad, Frank, I really did. It’s like it gave me away, the fact that I would actually have the nerve to break something with that much importance, she knew something wasn’t right and that it had to involve someone else.

About a week later she finally approached me and asked, at first she was sobbing, screaming, demanding if it was you, but then when I finally broke down and admitted, she just… she—smiled, one of those sad, disheartening smiles, and she seemed so understanding and she told me so many things after that. If you would have seen that face, I swear you would understand. It kills me, Frank, it really does” he whispered weakly, hoarsely as if his voice were about to give out and send him into a fit of sobs. My heart dropped at the very thought of her affecting him in this way, the fact that her hurting because of me was injuring him emotionally. I kissed the tip of his nose softly, staring into his burden tinted hazel orbs sadly.

“She told you things? What do you mean, Gee? What did she tell you…?”

“Things about the past…” he muttered, flickering his eyes away from mine momentarily and somewhere just past my face. I furrowed my brows, titling my head to the side questionably.

“But what does the past have to do with anything?”

He shook his head, chewing his lip apprehensively, “You’ll find out soon enough…”



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So Gerard is talking about the secrets about Frank's highschool life that he knows about, uh oh.
How is he going to break is to Frank that he knows all his deepest, darkest, most painful secrets, and worse of all...
How is he going to tell him that Lyn Z is the "angel" that saved him from death?

So honestly I hate this chapter, I rewrote it three times because the first time the idea was just stupid and the second time it wasn't any better so this third time I still am not very happy with, it seems to lack description and stuff, but anyway, meh, whatever xD.
Maybe I shouldn't listen to LeATHERMOUTH when writing a sencere story xD

Lyrics: Entry Way - Bright Eyes.

Comments letting me know what you think and such would be great, I really want to hear what everyone thinks [: