FicWad

So, have a chapter earlier than planned.

Gerard sat bundled up on the living room sofa, freezing. It was one of those mundane Sundays. He was watching old Batman cartoons from when he was a kid. From when he was a kid, ha, that made Gerard feel so old. 
He sipped his coffee, clutching the mug close to his chest, hoping it's warmth would seep through to him. 
Eventually, around two, Mikey emerged from the hall. Rubbing his hand through tangled hair, and scrubbing his left eye with his free hand. 
He stumbled around and grabbed the counter for support. 
"Hey Mikes-" Gerard started.
Mikey waved him away with his hand and grumbled under his breath. He made himself a coffee and crawled back. 
"Fucking living dead." Gerard shook his head with a smile. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He need some motivation. 
After about ten minutes he trudged himself up from his personal Iceland. Going downstairs, nearly falling twice.
Gerard flicked on the space heater he had and began his search. 
He rummaged through his old school book bag. It still had everything as it was the day he brought it home that last day. 
He didn't find it.
He moved on to his desk drawer. Piling everything on the floor as he went. Giving himself three paper-cuts as well.
Finally, he found the slip of paper he had been sure he had.
He clicked on to his email. He had been sure he had her phone but, take what you can get. He just hoped the email was up to date.
He sent her an email. Her, Lindsey. They had been best friends in high school.
Two hours later as he sat on his bed reading some of his favorite old worn comics, his computer pinged with a new email.
She wanted to meet Gerard in their favorite old place. 
The cemetery. 
Dashing up the stairs, he yanked on his jacket, and slipped on his shoes as fast as possible. 
Gerard found her swinging her fish-netted, shoeless feet atop the tall grave of a war general.
As soon as she saw him, Lindsey ran up and enveloped him in a rib-crushing hug. 
It was like four years had never passed. 

It had taken them two weeks to find that Frank was right at his age level in math.

Gerard was late. Which left 
Frank with nothing.
He came in late and said nothing. Took Frank by the wheelchair and brought him to a room across the hall. It was empty, with five circular tables, a large dry erase board, and a teacher's desk. 
"I found this Friday, I was bored." he said with a shrug. "No one uses it. We'll be in here from now on."
He pulled a purple marker from his back pocket. 
"I don't know if you'll ever be normal. Sorry, that was mean. But I just want to try something. I want you to feel what it's like to be normal."
Gerard took Frank's cold, soft hand in his. He placed the uncapped marker and held it in Frank's hand.Gerard pushed Frank to the board with his free left hand, leaning awkwardly.
Frank saw Gerard do it, but he didn't feel anything. Nothing. He knew he should. He had been so young since he had felt anything, he truly had no idea what it would feel like. 
"Can you feel anything Frankie?"
Gerard asked. 
Frank stared Gerard in the eyes and shook his head. 
Despite the discouragement Frank's words brought him, Gerard continued. He took the small hand in his and stretched as far as he could. Touching the fresh felt tip of the marker to the sheen of the white board. He drug their hands down making a line that he turned into an F.
He wrote Frank with both their hands on the board. 
It was sketchy and shaky, but it was there.
Gerard smiled down at Frank, "See you've written for the first time."
Frank just shook his head. He never wrote. That had been Gerard. He hadn't even fucking felt it. Not the motion of his arm. Not the feeling of of Gerard's hand on his. Not even feeling like he had such an appendage as a arm. 


As you might be able to tell, this is the wall I've hit between the future chapters and the ones that have been posted. 
Much love to all of you.
XO
Becca.