FicWad

Slightly faster, slightly longer chapter! This was a complete barrels of laughs to write. And on request of fearsgottahold, some of these paragraphs are mildy shorter. Hopefully your mind will be one piece after reading ^.^ (Actually, glancing over it, they're not really, but there's no MASSIVE chunks)
Another green chapter and a crazy 11 reveiws! I'm happier than Mikey/Gerard Way faced with coffee! Although, I'm pretty fond of the stuff too...
So yes, this chapter so incredibly cheerful. Totally. Anyone who read the summary will realize I'm being sarcastic. Anyone whose reading this, will also realize I'm being scarcastic. Who even reads these? BLAH BLAH BLAH. Christ I need help. Anyways.
ENJOY! :D

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Frank stared blankly at the still shivering door. Gerard had run, again. Was Frank so insensitive that he made Gerard do this every time he tried to make their relationship mean a little more? Frank felt a little hopeless again, until a little voice started to drip poison into his head. He was using you. You meant nothing to him. Who’d want a whore like you? He’s incredible, and all you’ll ever be is the dirty little poor boy to him. He has everything, why would he need you? The doubts were swirling around Frank’s brain and stinging him right where it hurt. His bruised little heart. The silky voice was still seeping doubt and fear into his head, twisting any insecurities, any paranoia into something to be loathed. And since all these thoughts were about him, in that moment, Frank began to loathe himself.

Of course Gerard didn’t want him. Why would he? He was nothing more than an experiment. Frank was so obvious, and Gerard had always had whatever he wanted. And when he was finished with it, he discarded it. Frank felt like screaming and trashing his room (again, the little voice in his head told him) in frustration. The self-hatred he’d felt began to be burnt up by sheer fury at himself and the hate shifted from himself to Gerard. He felt used. Gerard had toyed with him, and then run. Frank felt everyone’s thoughts pour into his head, and he knew then that he had to get out. Out of this room, out of the confines of the wood and bricks that Gerard had fled from, out of the walls that had seen his heart torn to shreds on the floor. But Frank decided he was done with Gerard – why would be keep putting himself in front of a shooting squad, and let Gerard pump him full of bullet holes? No. No any fucking more. Let Gerard go break someone else.

Frank tore the door of its hinges with his mind, and then proceeded to stamp down the corridor and ripping every last fancy wood panel from the walls. The door to the common room was also relieved of its hinges and Frank walked into the room that was filled with surprised faces. One of the jocks opened his mouth to say something derogatory, no doubt, but Frank pushed all the trophies from the shelves in a sudden, violent motion. The only noise in the room was the glass, bronze and silver trophies crashing to floor, making a horrible opera that screeched around everyone’s heads.

All the students gaped at Frank, who was standing defiantly in the middle of the room, shoulder raised and falling in jerky movements that was associated with heavy breathing. He brought his head up, and the students all peered at him for a moment, before recoiling in shock when they saw his eyes. Frank’s eyes were full of hate, sharp and spitting, and everyone knew that if they didn’t get out of his way, he was probably going to put them through a window and wait for them to bleed to death. Frank took a tense step forward, and then looked at ceiling almost… thoughtfully. Everyone else looked up and the sight they were met with filled them with terror. The crystal chandelier. He was going to bring it down.

Frank shuddered at feeling all the fear coursing through his head and he felt a sick little thrill curl around his spine. Something had to be destroyed, and the more fear involved, the better. He looked up at the chandelier again and smiled – but it wasn’t Frank’s usual smile, this one was full of anger and malice. The chandelier began to swing and creak. He could, of course, just bring it down but the distress he was causing was addictive and he wanted nothing more than to drag this out. You want Gerard more, part of Frank’s mind whispered, but Frank ignored it and let his anger twist and rule him again, before making the chandelier swing and let out another loud creak.

Everyone was transfixed on what was going to happen, until Frank made the crystal shudder, and one girl screamed. Just like that, the spell was broken. Everyone was scrambling to get out of the common room, and Frank realized he was out of time. He stared at the retreating backs of his fucking cowardly classmates and only felt a smug buzz in his fingers and toes; his smile grew nastier - almost warping his features out of recognition.

The chandelier fell. There was no warning or noise whilst it was falling, and anyone running for the exit didn’t notice that, in less than ten seconds, the flying shards of crystal could hideously scar their backs. To Frank, it seemed like the chandelier was hanging in the air, being defiant to his will. In reality, it was snatched down by gravity, and it fell very quickly.

Then it hit the floor and the crash was immense. The initial moment where it collided with the floor made a hideous screech and crack, and then there was silence as various pieces of glass flew across the air. Screams followed the second long silence, as some shards imbedded themselves in some students backs, and the air was filled with screaming, yelling, swearing and sobbing. The last tinkle as of what was left of the crystal fell out of the air was drowned out and Frank looked around himself in satisfaction, before tearing yet another door (this one led out into the courtyard) off it’s hinges and stepping into the cool evening air.

Frank ‘heard’ someone try to sneak up behind him, and he whirled around and shoved his fist out and felt the satisfactory crunch of someone’s nose breaking under his fist. There was a quiet yell of pain, and then Frank was alone again and running across the courtyard. Usually, he would of run for the trees, but right now all they caused was a stabbing at his heart, so he ignored them and kept running letting himself feel the uncomfortable burn in his calves and thighs.

He kept blindly running, focusing on nothing out the ache in his legs, the desperation in his lungs and the pain in his feet, but his thoughts still swerved toward his heartless roommate. The one he hated. Fuck it, who exactly was he trying to kid? The one he loved. And that was precisely what Frank hated about him.

Eventually, Frank ran out of breath, and when he looked up at where he was, was faced with a huge empty field, with some sort of white lines painted onto the grass. He must be on the football pitch. He glanced back at the school, and could only make out the black silhouettes of the buildings he’d left behind against the deep blue of the sky that came with the dusk. It was going to get dark, and most probably quite cold, out here soon but Frank couldn’t bring himself to care. He sprawled out on the grass, and gazed up at the endless blank sky and felt a sense of serenity wash over his soul cooling the anger as if it was a nasty burn and the sky was cold water. It would flare up later, but for now he was calm – there was no one else anywhere near him, Gerard had stopped haunting his thoughts for the time being and he didn’t have to face the mild devastation he’d managed to cause in the common room. He refused to feel guilty however.

Frank simply lay on his back and stared at the now black, star spangled sky and thought about how large the sky was, and how unimportant he was in the overall scheme of everything. He began to make shapes out of the stars as he did when he was a child – if he could see the stars past the usual smog of Newark – but after making a cat, Batman and a massive dick in the sky, he saw Gerard’s profile against the dark of the sky and had to stop. He had an inconsolable urge to curl up on his side and cry.

And after quietly debating with himself whether crying would help or hinder, Frank pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms round his knees and let the tears pour. He cried for Gerard, for whatever he was so scared of, he cried because of Gerard and what he’d done to Frank’s heart. He cried because he was far away from home, and he cried because he knew if Ray were here, he’d beat the shit out of Gerard for making Frank cry. He wanted his mom, and he wanted his room, and Ray, and his dog. He wanted to be able to breathe in the thick, petrol tainted air of Jersey and have his face smashed in for being gay and not poor. Hell, he even wanted to go back to his old high school. He just wanted. And it hurt that he couldn’t have any of those to comfort him now. Frank was going to have to cope on his own, and he wasn’t sure how.

As he laid there, eyes wide and unseeing as he looked at the stars, Frank felt his heart crumble and fade away. He had thought that Gerard had really liked him, liked Frank the same way Frank did – the way that meant melting into Gerard’s eyes, or catching his breath every time those green eyes glittered or that irresistible mouth quirked up into a smirk. He fallen so damn hard for Gerard and had been left with bittersweet memories of breathless moans and mischievous smiles, and oh God, Frank wanted so badly to crawl up beside Gerard, and have the ebony haired boy wrap his arms around Frank. Fuck, he didn’t want it, he felt like he couldn’t breathe without Gerard, but he knew it was his own damn fault. He should have taken whatever Gerard was offering and be happy. But he didn’t, and he was an idiot, and he wanted Gerard’s lips on his. He couldn’t even bear to think that he might never have that happen again. Frank closed his eyes and let exhaustion drag him into pure unconscious, unthinking bliss.

He was utterly unaware that he was not the only one nursing a splintered heart in the cool air of the night. But Gerard knew that he had no choice. This was what was best for Frank, and that cemented his decision.

When Frank was woken by the glare of the California sun rising steadily over the horizon, casting a blood red glow over the pitch and therefore, Frank. He raised his head carefully, then stretched his legs out, cracked his spine and rotated his wrists gently, before picking himself and his deadweight heart off of the dew touched ground and began to make his way towards the dorms.

The common room was a complete shambles. Glass, crystal and metal created a deadly carpet and the corridors looked bare without the entire lot of wooden paneling adorning the walls. He felt, rather than saw, a few students poke their head out of their various dorm rooms, only to quickly barricade themselves inside when they saw his face and he wondered idly how much trouble he was going to get in. Frank felt a little panicked at that, but any previous feelings were sucked away by the dread that faced him when he reached the door less frame of his dorm and peered inside.

Every trace of Gerard was gone. All the things Frank had first seen when he’d arrived – Gerard’s suitcase, his razor and toothbrush – as well as everything else Frank had seen – various t-shirts and skinny jeans, converse high tops, Gerard’s pristine iPod – was gone. Including the boy himself. Nothing was left of the guy who walked out of that bathroom and into Frank’s head the second he saw him, everything about that same boy Frank had fallen in love with was gone. Looking around – if he didn’t know otherwise – Frank could’ve sworn that nobody other than him had ever lived here. He stepped into the room, and felt that it was too big without Gerard, and began to look around the room that he’d hated to be in, and lovingly remembered everything that had happened in there.

The secret kisses with Gerard that ripped at his heart, the fights that made him so angry and attracted to Gerard he wanted to scream, seeing Gerard come out of the bathroom with only a towel on and water dripping down his chest and feeling his stomach drop and knot with pure lust – he remembered it all so vividly, as if it was a private DVD that was playing in his head. Gazing around the room, he could almost picture Gerard hanging out of that window, waiting for Frank to come inside after they kissed for the first time, he could practically see the pair of them tangled on either his or Gerard’s bed with lips locked together and moans escaping, and he could taste the tension in the air that was both sensual and tense whenever they argued. All these memories from only a small off-white room with two bland beds in it and a couple of dressers. Frank had never noticed how plain the room was. It depressed him a little further that Gerard was the only one that had ever made the room something to enjoy. And he was gone.

Frank walked woodenly over to Gerard’s bed, and trailed his fingers over the pillowcase that had held Gerard’s head at night, and Frank wondered if the cleaning staff had already been. He lifted the pillow up and gently inhaled the scent that can’t be anyone else’s but Gerard’s – coffee, a twinge of sweat and cloves and Frank feels his heart ache a little more that he won’t ever smell that intoxicating scent straight from the source again because all he has left now is unwashed bed linens. Frank strips them off anyway, before wrapping them in a plastic bag to keep the smell and hiding them under his bed so the cleaner wouldn’t take them. Whilst on his hands and knees, Frank notices that Gerard also left a t-shirt behind, and he scurries over to get it and realizes it was his favourite on Gerard - it was ridiculously tight and practically made Frank drool – and has that same scent on it. Frank presses the t-shirt to his face and inhales. His shoulders sag knowing that this is all he has left of Gerard now, and he walks back to his own bed, before sitting down heavily with Gerard’s t-shirt still under his nose. After one last deep breath, Frank goes to place the t-shirt under his pillow and that’s when he noticed that his pillowcase had vanished. A tiny smile tugged at Frank’s lips. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had to rely on a smell to keep someone close. Or maybe he just likes trophies whispered the poison voice and Frank shuddered. Either way, where was Gerard, and why was he gone?

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Now, you know I love all who reveiw, and usually, this is where I type a little response to everyone who reviewed. I'm not doing it this time, because I have split my finger open playing my bass, and it's hurting like fuck to type. (In case you think I'm just being lazy or thinking: "How the fuck did she type the chapter then?" the answer is this: I wrote the chapter. I always leave it for like, two hours to make sure I haven't written utter shite, and I played my bass in the meantime. Cut finger open. Currently working my finger to BONE to explain this.)

So, I'm sorry. I did love all your reveiws though; they made me grin like usual. And, if anyone's seriously upset about me not writing them a response (I'm not sure who would be, cause they're shitty responses) tell me and I will write you a longer one next time. So yes. Next chapter should be up in... no more than ten days. Rate/reveiw? :3
UNTIL NEXT TIME!