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Gerard returned, drying his hair loosely with a towel.
"How're you feeling, Franks?" He asked, quietly, looking at the time. 6pm.
"A little out of breath, quite stunned, but very happy, you?" He asked, softly, "By the way, you can call me Frankie, if you want, I don't mind." Frank smiled, shrugging, sitting up, and facing Gerard.
"I like Franks." Gerard replied, with a playful grin. "I'd better do a bit of artwork.." He scratched his head gently, looking around his now, ruined room, for art supplies.
"Fair enough, do what you like." He smiled, lying back down on the bed, stretching. "I was meaning to ask you, why do you like the fact that I'm yours? I'm not saying I don't like it, I love it, I'm just curious." Gerard pondered as he walked around the room.
"I've read about such things being the norm, you know, many years ago." He nodded, gathering his art supplies. "I found it very interesting, but people don't do it anymore. Obviously they had such rituals and stuff.." He shook his head. "But I'm not interested in any of that. No. I just like the idea of having a person who isn't just, you know, your boyfriend. They're yours. Yours to play with, yours to cry into, yours to lie with watching bad television.. you know?"
"I like it, it's sweet. Thanks for making me yours." He giggled, sitting up, looking at him, "I don't think I've felt this way towards anyone, y'know." Frank blushed hard, being slightly embarrassed.
"I know you haven't." He paused. Should he mention it? Or would it be disrespectful, wrong - to mention something he had worked out, something that Frank definitely hadn't shared with him willingly.
"Gee, explain, you've got more thoughts, I can tell." He smirked, yawning, stretching out his arms.
"I was gonna say.." He started, sitting himself down at his desk, avoiding Frank's gaze. "You thought you felt like this about someone else, didn't you," He replied, sadly.
"Maybe, but it was never as strong as this and that was before I turned gay." He shrugged, looking at Gerard.
"Yes, I know that.. but they weren't very nice, were they?" He said, quietly. Frank shook his head, sighing.
"Nope." He gulped.
"C-cause.." Frank dipped his head. "I remember. I remember now." They were both silent for a few moments as Gerard sat, shaking, his eyes wide. Frank was bewildered.
"Say it, Gee." He looked up suddenly, "Say what you remember."
"Very.." He said, slowly. "Bad.." He breathed in sharply. "Men."
"Were you... Raped, Gee?" He asked, softly, walking over to him, reaching out for his hand comfortingly.
Gerard stood up violently, pushing the chair over accidentally and shaking Frank away from him. He backed away and opened his bedroom door, stepping out of it quickly, and pausing before the front door. He took the key from his pocket and kissed it, leaving it on the coffee table in the hallway.
"Love you Frank." He whispered frantically, before slamming the door behind him and rushing down the street. He wanted to get away. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten. He couldn't believe that the memory had escaped him. rank ran after him, grabbing his wrist gently.
"Gee, what happened, explain, talk, please don't go." He panted, looking worried, like he was nearly going to cry as he looked up at the older boy. He loved him, why was he being so insane all of a sudden?
"Get the fuck away from me!" He shrieked, batting the hand from him and running, running until his legs gave way, curling into a small ball behind a tree, hoping no one could find him.
Frank sat on a nearby wall, crying into the palms of his hands. He was so confused – he just wanted Gerard back. With him. Together.

Meanwhile, Gerard rested his head against a tree, before clambering to his feet and running a little further away. He kept running, and eventually ended up at the Belleville train station. He sat on a nearby bench, watching the trains go by and shivering a little in the cold. This was not how he intended things to turn out. Frank continued walking, remembering Gerard had his phone on him, he called him, hoping he would pick up.
"Please pick up, please, please." Frank pleaded.
Gerard heard the faint buzzing coming from his pocket, and ignored it. He couldn't face anyone now, because he was fucking disgusting. He was dirty, tainted- he wanted to be away. He double-checked is pockets to see if he had any money - he possessed a little. He wandered into the train station, and selected the furthest ticket he could get for his money. Once he had boarded, he pulled out his phone, and pushed the buttons to call Frank. Frank picked up, still crying.
"Gee?" He spoke softly, trying to stop his tears, sniffing and spluttering. Frank was panicking, not knowing what to do.
"Don't come after me." Gerard sobbed, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Don't."
"I'm so confused, I don't know what to do, Mikey's asking where you are. We don't know what to do." He cried louder.
"Look after him. Make sure he takes his medication. He's really sick. Make sure he takes it or you'll get really hurt." Gerard cried. "I'm such a horrible person, but I needed out, Frank."
"But, what am I going to do? I.. I.. Gerard.. You.. Said – I was.." He stuttered, sobbing, "I-I'm yours. You said you would care for me and that you loved me, Gee."
"That was before I realised I was a fucking disgusting-" He paused, breaking down in tears. "Let me talk to Mikey. Put Mikey on the phone. Put Mikey on the phone!" He pleaded, through salty tears. Frank passed the phone, shaking, to Mikey.
"Gerard... Come home, we need you." Mikey cried. "You know I can sort this."
"I can't come home Mikey." Gerard's voice trembled, breaking through his stifled sobs. "Not anymore. They're.. going to get me, Mikey. You look after Frank. Alright? Look after him. I don't want to hurt you.”
"Gerard, they won't. You were young, they probably don't even remember you, Gerard. Just come h-home. I can’t Gerard, I can’t.. I.." He stuttered, crying, passing the phone back the Frank. "Baby, look, we need to talk, just come back, or tell us where you're going. I'm so scared, Gee."
"I don't know where I'm going." He mumbled. Perhaps he should have checked before buying the ticket. "I can't come back, not now. I'll call you every day, I promise." He whispered.
"Please, Gee, you know my past, you know I need someone. I'll end up killing myself before I found someone else like you." He cried more, sniffing.
"Don't you fucking dare!" Gerard hissed, gripping the train seat tightly. "Suicide is never the right option! I had to deal with Mikey dying in a hospital bed because of suicide! And I am not going to fucking lose another person that I love," He crumbled, sobbing again. "I will come back Frank.. but I can't - I don't know when, I can't get my mind straight. I can't think."
"Gee, you know I will! I have the balls and I'll take my own life." He sobbed, "I'm doing this because I love you, okay? When the train stops, you stay in a hotel, a B&B, something for tonight. Then in the morning you get on a train and get your ass back here, before I find you." He spoke angrily, but still hurt and upset.
"No." Gerard huffed, hugging himself. "No." He muttered.
"Please, baby, please." Frank pleaded, crying, "I need you. Mikey needs you."
"And I need you.." Gerard choked, damning himself. "To just - leave me alone. I need airspace. I'll call you tomorrow. I swear, please. Frank."
"Okay, love you, Mikey says love you, as well, call me whenever tomorrow, I can't go to school in this state." He hung up, crying, running back into the house, Mikey following him.

Gerard listened to the long, piercing note of the phone until it rung in his ears. He turned it off and hunched up his knees, leaning his head against the window, ignoring the looks from other travellers. Frank cried, lying in Gerard's bed. He didn't think he would call or even come back.

Frank woke up, remembering that Gerard wasn't here, he got Mikey ready for school, watching him walk away. Mikey shook his head.
"I can't go to school and leave you Frank." He popped open various caps of his medication and took each tablet out carefully. "My head kills me."
"Okay, stay home, I don't mind. But I have to go upstairs a second." Frank ran upstairs, to Gerard's room, thinking about the razor in his backpack, he took it out, placing it on his wrist.
Mikey crept up, sliding himself outside Gerard's bedroom door. He listened intently, almost fully certain of what Frank was doing. But he didn't want to interrupt. He knew how embarrassing it was, to be interrupted. He stared down absently at the scars on his arms.
Frank bit his lip, not crying, but ignoring the pain. He stared at the screen of his phone, waiting for some sign of Gerard. He texted Gerard. 'Hi'.
Mikey pushed open the door quietly, standing beside the doorframe.
"Frank." He whispered softly, quietly. Frank looked up, his eyes full of tears.
"I don't care if you see." He hissed. He was praying for Gerard to answer.
"I know." Mikey said, watching him quietly. "I'm not going to stop you." He nodded.
"Thanks," He sighed, doing a few more times, watching the blood leak down his arm. He decided to call Gerard. "I can't stop thinking, Mikey, just give me a second." He picked up his phone, holding it too his ear, "Come on, Gee."
Gerard sat outside a small gas station, shivering in the cold. Perhaps, he should have saved some more of his money. He felt his phone vibrating and shook his head, ignoring it. He couldn't. Mikey pulled the bandages from his medicine box (which contained his various pills) and walked over to Frank, cradling his arm softly and bandaging it without a word.
"Thank you," Frank whispered, leaving Gerard a voice mail, "Hi, um, I, Just.. I.. Don't know, What I.. I-I." He stuttered, sighing, sobbing, "Call me back. It's urgent."

Gerard gave in, yanking the phone from his pocket. He held it up to his ear, and listened to Frank's frantic sobbing. He was such a fucking awful human being - making Frank feel like that. He made a loud, aggravated, noise of upset, throwing his phone down on the icy floor in anger, where it consequently shattered into many pieces.

Frank sighed, sobbing.
"Mikey, would Gerard go to that place in Belleville? Y'know, the art museum?" A shot of hope and adrenalin pulsed through Frank. Mikey glanced at Frank sadly.
"Maybe. But if he got a train.. I don't think he's in Belleville no more." He sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "But there was another place, that he always talked about, I saw it on a train schedule...." He sighed, thinking. "We could try." Mikey nodded, heading back to his bedroom, selecting his medicine box, a bag, and a jacket.
"Ready?" Frank smiled, grabbing his backpack, wearing one of Gerard's jackets.

"Yeah. I think so. I've got my meds, cause.." Mikey sniffed, nudging it. "Well, I'll get pretty cranky if I don't take 'em. And not just cranky.." He started walking down the stairs quietly. "I've got money. We're gonna find him."
"Definitely." He smiled, opening the door for Mikey. "We just got to think like him, y'know." Frank giggled, trying to stay happy.
"Ah, you'll know, that's nearly impossible." He mumbled, stepping outside. "We should probably go to the train station. From the money he has on him usually, which was probably about $50.." Mikey calculated in his head. "The furthest he could have gone is New York, since it's kinda close, and.. fares are cheap. But I don't think he will have. He's probably gone to Clinton."
"He had less than $50, I know because I only saw about three $10 notes in his jeans pocket when he put them on, he didn't put on another jacket and he didn't pick up a may, or any more money. So, Clinton? Want to try there first?" He asked, walking down the road.
"May as well. I have my money with me. Enough to find him." Mikey nodded, walking ahead. He knew where the train station was - he would run off there often, dreaming of jumping on a train and never coming back – his brother always caught up with him and carried him home. But he wasn't there to do that anymore.
"I have some money too, we have enough for about four different trips, if we can't find him." Frank sighed, standing at the train station, then getting on the first one that said 'Clinton'.
"Don't worry." Mikey grinned. "We maybe be fucked up and alone, me and Gerard.. but we sure as hell are not poor." He said, pulling out his wallet from his bag.
"Wow." The money stunned him, hearing the conductor. "CLINTON." Is spoke loud and clear as Frank stepped off the train, sighing.
"I've been here before." Mikey noted, observing the area around him. It frightened Frank, how similar Mikey was to Gerard in so many ways - the way their eyes flicked as they studied and observed, the way they muttered under their breath, the way they spoke quietly and calmly. It only made Frank more upset. Mikey walked forward, studying. "He probably doesn't have any money left. So he can't have gotten a hotel room."
"Hmm. So that narrows it down to, cafe or gas station?" He asked, sighing, walking in the left direction, Mikey following next to him.
"Gerard doesn't like cafes." Mikey avoided Frank's gaze. "But he likes gas stations. He has a taste for the smell of petrol."
"The smell is enjoyable." He giggled, walking in front of a big gas station, "Doesn't look like any sign of him, does it?"
"No." Mikey grumbled, his sigh audible. "Why does he have to be so.." He spat, angry. "Gerard." He finished, pushing the heels of his hands into his cheeks. "Sick and tired, Frank. Sick and tired." He coughed, opening up his bag and pulling some pills out. Frank stroked Mikey's back, sighing.
"Wait, isn't there another station, a little down the road?" He asked, almost excited, before he saw a cracked phone on the floor by his foot, "Gerard's phone!"
Mikey inspected it.
"Yeah, that's his phone. He dropped it.. maybe an hour ago? Two hours?" He murmured, watching it. He salvaged the pieces and collected them, popping them in his bag. "I can.. I can fix it for him." He nodded, embarrassed. Frank smiled.
"Awesome, feeling better? Also, he couldn't of gotten that far." Frank pulled out a big book from his bag, ringing a telephone number. "Um, hi, could you looked outside your gas station, seeing if there is a tall, skinny boy, 19 years old, black hair, responds to the name of Gerard?" He nodded, "Thank you! Tell him to stay there!" He hung up, "Come on, Mikes."
"Feeling fine. As always." Mikey replied quietly. "They've found him, yes?"
"Yep, the next one down." Frank shoved the book and phone back into his bag, "Let's go before he wanders off."
"Alright." He swallowed, holding one of his bottles of pills in his pocket. He followed Frank, who was particularly determined. Frank walked down the road, checking Mikey was following, until they both saw Gerard sat on the curb of the gas station.
"You go first, you're his brother."

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