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Chapter Four
Gerard's POV

I watched as Frank ran. Every part of my body wanted to run after him, but something told me that that wouldn't help. Tears filled my eyes as he rounded the corner at a dead run.

When I could finally move, I picked up my bag, and went to Frank's locker. I pulled the picture he had seen last night that I'd been drawing of him from my bag. I had stayed up late to finish it. I turned it over, wrote on the back, folded it in half, then slid it through to vents on his locker.

I really didn't feel like sitting through the rest of the school day, so I walked slowly from school, towards my house. I trudged up the steps, and into my room. I flopped across my bed, and sighed, then turned toward Frank's window. There was no movement behind the glass. I sighed, and stared at the ceiling.

I just laid there for forty-five minutes, until I heard the doorbell ring. I pulled a pillow over my head. It rang again. I slid off my bed, and went to the window, to see if there was a car or anything parked on the street. There wasn't. I turned away, and flopped back onto my bed.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Someone was pounding on the door.

"Open the fuck up, Gerard!" A familiar voice yelled. Frankie.

I threw myself across the room to the door, flung it open, and ran down the stairs so fast I almost tripped over my own feet. I ran to the door, and yanked it open. Frank was standing on the doorstep, holding the picture I had drawn for him in his hand.

"I'm sorry." He said.

I threw my arms around him, almost knocking him over. I couldn't stop myself. He stood frozen for a second, then wrapped his arms around me. We stood there hugging each other for a long time before either of us moved.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked.

"Sure." He said. We stepped inside, and I closed the door.

"I'm really sorry, Gee." Frank said, looking up at me. "I don't know why I'm so fucking weird. I just.... when the jocks walked by, and...."

"It's okay." I said. "I understand."

"No, it's not okay!" Frank said, wringing his hands. "I was completely out of line, and I don't know how--" I put my hand over his mouth so he would stop talking.

"Shh." I told him.

"But, but, but--" He mumbled around my hand.

"Shh." I repeated. "It's okay."

"Why do you have to be so damn forgiving!?" he yelled, throwing his hands up. "Just makes me feel like more of a douche!" His eyed were full of tears.

"I'm sorry?" I said.

Tears spilled out of his eyes, down his cheeks.

"Don't cry," I whispered. I pulled him into a hug. He sobbed into my neck. I rubbed his back soothingly, at a complete loss as to why he was crying. "Shh...." I tried to soothe him. He clung to me tighter. I stroked his hair, and kissed his cheek.

He calmed down after a few minutes.

"Why the hell are you crying?" I asked, still rubbing his back, and stroking his hair.

"I don't know....." He mumbled.

"Are you gonna be okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Hopefully I'm done crying for the day." He said.

"So.... can I take you out to dinner?" I asked hopefully.

He looked up at me and nodded, smiling. I grinned. Ear-to-ear. He stood on his toes, and gently touched his lips to mine. He dropped off of his toes, and looked up at me, biting his lip. I leaned down and kissed him, more forcefully than he'd kissed me. He met my kiss with equal passion, our lips moving together.

We eventually broke apart, and spent the rest of the day cuddled up together on my bed, listening to my iPod, sharing earbuds. I enjoyed watching Frank switch songs about every fifteen seconds.

"What?" He asked once, when he noticed me smiling at him.

"Nothing," I said. "You're just the cutest person I've ever seen."

"Not looked in a mirror lately, then?" He asked, smiling.

I couldn't think of a clever response to that, so I just kissed him. He didn't seem to mind that. I eventually noticed the time.

"Um, Frankie?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"School's getting out right now.... so, my dad and brother are going to be home soon. It'll probably be easier to think up an excuse for why we aren't there, if they don't walk in on us cuddling in my bed." I said.

"Yeah.... I was just thinking that, too." He said, hauling himself out of my bed.

We walked down to the front door.

"I'm gonna miss you." I said.

"I'm gonna miss you, too." He said. We kissed briefly, then he walked out the door, and across the street.

***

"Gerard!" My dad yelled a couple minutes later.

"What?" I yelled back.

I heard two people running up the stairs.

"Dad thought you were dead." Mikey snickered as he and my dad came bursting into the room.

"Why weren't you waiting at school?" My dad thundered.

"I walked home. I thought I told you I was going to this morning? My last period teacher had something to do, so she let us out early." I lied.

"Oh." Dad said. He turned and left the room.

"Why are you actually here?" Mikey asked as soon as Dad was out of earshot.

I patted the bed next to me. Mikey closed the door, and sat next to me.

"Do you know Frank Iero? He's also a Sophomore." I said.

"Yeah. He's in a couple of my classes." Mikey said. "He was missing from...." He gasped. "He was with you!" He said.

I nodded. "Yeah...." I sighed.

"What.... what.... what...." Mikey stammered.

Mikey was the only person besides my friend from home, Matt, who knew I was gay. Sometimes I wasn't sure if Mikey understood that that meant that I liked other guys.

"Wow, Gee. I'm happy for you." He said, giving me a one-armed hug.

"I'm happy for me, too." I sighed, wrapping my arms around Mikey.

"I'm not gonna have to have the 'brother' talk with him, am I?" Mikey asked.

"Not if you don't want to." I said.

"Good. Cause I feel like he would probably beat me. Those emo cutters are usually pretty tough little--"

"What?" I asked, jerking away.

"What?" Mikey said.

"Cutter? What? He's a cutter?" I stammered.

"You didn't know?" He asked, brow furrowed.

"No!" I wailed.

"Oh." Mikey said.

"Talk. Now." I growled, launching myself forward onto him, one hand cupped around his throat, my other hand pulled back in a fist.

"Gee. Calm down." He said.

I raised my fist higher. He knew I wasn't above hitting him to get the information that I wanted.

"In chemistry!" He gasped. "Mrs. What's-Her-Face made him take off his arm warmers! Cuts! Wrists! Scabs!"

I rolled off of him.

"Fuck!" I groaned.

"Sorry." Mikey said, sitting up.

"You suck." I said.

"I know." He sighed.

I got up, and left my room. I walked out of the house, and across the street. I rang the doorbell. A couple seconds later, a woman opened the door.

"Yes?" She said.

"Is Frank here?" I asked.

"Yes, he's in his room. Up the stairs, at the end of the hall." She said, pointing me towards the stairs.

"Thanks," I said, moving past her, up the stairs.

I knocked on his door.

"Come in." He called.

I opened the door.

"Gerard!" He said, smiling, and hopping up from his bed. He walked over to me, pulled me inside, pushed the door shut, then kissed me. "What's wrong?" He asked, noticing my expression.

"I was just talking to my brother...." I said.

"Yeah?" He asked.

I took one of his hands from my shoulder, and pulled his arm warmer off. His eyes widened in fear as I turned his arm over.

"Jesus, Frank." I whispered, running my fingers along the slices on his arm. Some old, and completely healed. Others, raw, with dried blood around them, obviously from some time in the last couple hours.

"Look, Gerard--" He started to defend himself, voice shaking.

I kissed him.

"Why, Frank?" I whispered, laying my forehead against his.

"I don't know...." He mumbled. "Shit's just.... been hard, you know? No, of course you don't know...." He said, looking away.

I set my hand against his cheek, and gently turned his head back toward me. I rolled up the sleeve of my shirt, and showed him the scars. His eyes widened further.

"I do know." I said. "I know what it feels like to sit by yourself on the bathroom floor with whatever you managed to get your hands on to cut yourself. To contemplate what good you're doing on the planet, to talk yourself into thinking that everything would be easier for everyone if you had never been born.... I recovered, though, Frankie. And I'll help you, in whatever way I can." I promised.

He smiled as a tear slipped down his cheek. I caught it, and brushed it away. I lifted his arm, and kissed each of the scars, then his lips.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I may have a chance to update tomorrow if I get the reviews. acts innocent Rate, review, tell your friends. Love ya!
xxAnna