FicWad

AN: Okay, writer's block, time to end. This has gone on for far too long. I must say, this is my favourite fic out of all of Allie's stories, but good lord. Out of all the chapters she could have left off with, she picked that one. This might sting a bit.

This was like drowning in slow motion.

The air around him had become thick, filling his lungs and settling like cement at the bottom. His throat was clogged and throbbing, choking on the sobs that racked his body and tore at his chest. Gerard was drowning on air, and no one could save him.

Well, Frank could, but Gerard doubted that he'd want to, and he wouldn't blame the younger man.

This fight was destroying him. Sure they'd fought before, but those were only the petty arguments of two men that lived together. They'd toss a few insults, glare at eachother, and crack up at the glares they were exchanging.

Somehow Gerard doubted that they'd be able to laugh this one off.

Guilt slammed through him, splitting his heart open like he had done to so many others. For once, the serial killer was on the other end of the knife. How could he have said that to Frankie? Was he really that heartless? Gerard had prided himself on having a shred of humanity, unlike the other murderers he'd heard of. He had felt guilt, if only a little. He didn't bury his bodies, but he still made sure they'd be found easily.

But Frank had made him see the true monster that he was. Without meaning to, Frank had uncovered the beast that lay beneath Gerard's skin, and Gerard didn't like it. It made him feel nauseous and ugly, exactly how he imagined other killers must feel. He was a disgusting creature, not even human. He deserved to die and burn in the deepest pits of hell, if such a place existed.

(Do you think?)

The first tear fell when he was in the car. After yanking the door of the Subaru open, Gerard had flung himself inside and started the vehicle without putting his seatbelt on. If he was lucky, maybe he'd get into an accident. However, before he could pull out, something stopped him.

A smell assaulted his nose; the scent of stale smoke and mint gum. Frank. How could he forget?! Gerard slammed his head into the steering wheel, the scent overpowering him. The horn blared in his ears, but he didn't care. How many times had he and Frank gone out to eat together? How many trips had they been on? Christ... They'd brought Jesus home in that car, after spending a whole year looking for the sketchiest cat they could find.

He crouched over the steering wheel, his hands gripping the leather so tightly that his knuckles turned white. After a few seconds, he twisted the key and killed the engine. He couldn't do it. He couldn't run away, and he couldn't go back inside. He was stuck between two options that could possible fix the situation, but the risks were too great to ignore. Gerard Way, the violent killer that had plagued Belleville for longer than he cared to admit, was helpless.

Hours passed. He eventually released the steering wheel and slumped back into his seat, staring at the windshield with bloodshot eyes. The tears had stopped long ago, leaving behind the numbness that he usually felt after killing a particularly young victim. In a way, he supposed he had killed Frank. His roommate hadn't left the house all day, and even when Gerard thought he could stand looking at the house, he hadn't seen any movement inside. Frank's crying echoed through his mind, a broken record of pain that left Gerard weak and shaking.

At six o'clock, just when the sun began to touch the horizon, someone knocked on the driver's side window.

Gerard jerked out of his daze, emitting a gasp of surprise that sounded more like a man dying of thirst. He coughed a few times, feeling his heart pound against his ribs. With enough speed to almost give him whiplash, the black-haired man spun his head around to see a face peering into the Subaru.

At first, Gerard was hopeful. Maybe Frank was checking on him? This would be the perfect time to apologize. He would tell Frank the truth, he would beg forgiveness, he'd kiss him until they were both blue, he would-

And then, disappointment.

The man outside was tall and gangly, with a young face and a broad mouth. He was instantly recognizable by the mounds of frizzy, brown hair atop his head.

With deliberate slowness, Gerard opened the door. "Ray," he croaked. "What are you-?"

"Frank sent me," Ray said, looking at Gerard as if he was something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe. "He called. Said that he thought you were dead out here. Not that you wouldn't deserve it."

Gerard winced. Even Ray, who was usually easygoing and kind, hated him. "I know. I fucked up, Ray. I fucked up real bad."

Ray nodded, still looking at him with faint disgust. There was also pity in his gaze, and a slight hint of exasperation. "Understatement of the year, Way. Frank sounded pretty cut up when I talked to him on the phone. I've never heard the kid cry, you know, and it wasn't pretty. You'd better have a damn good reason for doing this."

Ray's words were like rusty nails in his eyes, bringing out a fresh wave of tears. At this rate, Gerard wouldn't have any fluids left in his body. "I... I just... I got scared, Ray," he choked. "He just k-kissed me, and I panicked! I just... I just freaked out! I've never cared about anyone that much, not even... Not even her! And you remember what happened, right? She died, Ray! Right there! I can't... I can't..." He broke off, his mind suddenly flooded by images of red-stained sheets and blank eyes. Vomit rose in his throat, but he forced it down.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Ray gazing down at him with a concerned expression. In one smooth movement, the taller man's other hand plucked the car keys from the ignition. "Come on," Ray whispered. "Time to go home, Gee."

The dam broke. Gerard stumbled out of the car and was immidiately caught by Ray, who kept him steady all the way to the front door.

As Ray reached out for the door knob, Gerard panicked. What if Frank kicked him out? What if Frank decided that he wasn't worth it? Would they ever be able to get over this? What if they couldn't? Gerard was hyperventilating, his throat still constricted by sobs.

What if this was the end?

Ignoring Gerard's wheezes of protest, Ray turned the knob and pulled the door open.

Frank was waiting for them.

The man in the entry hall was nothing like the one that Gerard had left earlier. This man had watery-green eyes, with pale skin and dissheveled hair. His clothes were rumpled, with coffee stains on the sleeves of his white pyjama shirt. His feet were bare. The skin on his face was pink and splotchy. His knuckles were split open, as if he'd spent the past few hours punching walls.

This man was broken, and it was all Gerard's fault.

A silence, heavy and smothering, settled among the three. The only sound was the occasional gasp from Gerard as he struggled to breathe.

'Oh God,' Gerard thought. 'This is it. This is were Frank kills me, and I'll let him. I'll let him beat me, cut me open, strangle me, anything. Just make it quick. Don't let me see him cry again.'

Ray coughed.

Finally, Frank broke the silence. "Ray, why is he here?"

Gerard flinched. Frank's voice was rough and worn, and yet it was still cold. Ray seemed to share his discomfort.

"Frank, just listen to me. He told me everything-"

"I don't care!" Frank snapped, cutting Ray off and taking a step away from us. "Whatever he told you, I don't want to hear it!"

"Please, Frank, just listen-"

"I said no, Ray! You don't know how much he-"

"Frankie?"

At the sound of the hoarse voice, the arguing men froze, staring at eachother in shock before turning to face Gerard.

On the inside, Gerard was panicking again. 'What do I say? WHAT DO I SAY?!'

(DO YOU THINK?!)

He licked his lips, his mouth feeling as if it had been filled with sand. Frank was staring at him with huge green eyes, his mouth parted slightly. Ray's head was whipping back and forth between the two, becoming a blurr of hair.

After what felt like an eternity, Gerard forced himself to speak again. "The reason I... I said that, is because... I don't want you to die." The last words were a whisper, but they left echoes throught the silent hallway.

(Die... Die... Die...)
(Do you think?)

Frank took one hesitant step forward, followed by another. "Gee?"

Gerard lowered his gaze to the floor, hiding behind his hair in an attempt to escape the stunned look on Frank's face. Ray's presence had all but disappeared; just a silent audience to a tragic play. Gerard cleched his fists, the pressure of his nails against his palms keeping him from passing out.

"I couldn't protect her," he said to the floor. "She was sleeping right next to me, and she died. If that... If someone did that to you and I couldn't... If you died... Oh God, Frankie."

(Die...)
(Do you think?)
(Right next to me...)

There was the sound of frantic footsteps across the floor, and Gerard was suddenly falling backward. At the last minute, he managed to keep his balance. He blinked a few times, not quite understanding the sudden pressure against his front and around his chest. He was staring at something covered in white fabric, something that shook at the same time he did.

Then, realization.

Without hesitating, Gerard threw his arms around Frank's quivering body and held him close.

AN: Hmmm. Not bad, I suppose. I'll try to improve. Might make a few edits. All in all, not too shabby. Review? I need to know what I'm doing wrong. Still loving this story, even if I may have just massacred it with this chapter.
- Ben