Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Sharpest Knives - Frerard
A/N: There aren't many of you still reading this, so if you've made it this far congratulations! I appreciate you reading my shitty writing so much. Anyway, after this there is one more chapter of the main part, then an epilogue with a time jump. Nearly there guys!
3:26pm.
Frank woke up amidst his own confusion and Gerard's stiff quiet. In a haze, he pulled himself upright in the car seat. The seat belt had dug little pink trenches across his shoulder and neck as he slept. It took him a while to rid himself of the peaceful sleep he'd had and comprehend the horrid reality that was his situation.
There seemed to be a massive gap in his memory, as if something very big and very relevant was escaping the clutches of his mind. There also, in fact, seemed to be something very large missing from his usual view from the back seat of the car. The passenger seat diagonally across from him where Gerard was usually slunk was empty. It was queer having afternoon light pour in from the dirty windows where Gerard's frame would usually block it out. As he climbed the gradient of consciousness, Frank noticed with a shock that the car was moving. Nobody was next to him in the back seat either. His heart began slapping against his ribs in increasing concern. Where is Gerard? Frank thought worriedly. He's always there.
It is obscure when you fall in love, -or lust, as was Frank's case-, because you always feel like you are missing something without that person. Even though you have lived your whole life without them until now, you still feel like they are necessary to you. You cannot live without them, and deep down, you hope that they cannot survive without you. This is what we call dependent love. And oh God, was Frank dependent on the utterly terrifying but inhumanly attractive multi-murderer that held him captive.
Jesus, Frank, he thought bemusedly. This doesn't get any less surreal with time.
Frank noticed with a bout of relief that Gerard was not in the passenger seat because he was driving. With utmost adoration he observed the black, greasy locks flutter gently in the breeze flying through the window. He watched the dirty, slender fingers that had comforted him more than once as they tapped the leather steering wheel which they held. He watched Gerard's face, drawn with concentration, through the wing mirrors. And oh God did he love that face; the hazel eyes, the wit beyond his years, the thin, serious lips that looked so, so accessible...
And like the jolt of a trigger and the whizz of a bullet, Frank realized.
Bob.
Shards of glass were scattered about his lap and feet, and his head was bloody once again as he had leant it on the razor sharp edges of the door. Normally, he'd rest it against the glass as he slept, but there was no glass left. He remembered now. Shattering, the speed of his heart rate a definite match for Usain Bolt. Flashing blue lights, screaming, shouting, Gerard's own controlled whimpering as they'd escaped.
A gun shot. Bob.
Bob was dead. He must be dead. Frank had seen him fall from his view out of the back window.
All because of me, and my stupid, fucking stupid dream-
Frank paused mentally. Not dream. Memory.
And Kel and Trent's faces drifted into Frank's mind once more.
The drive through the side tracks of the last greenland before New York state was not a comfortable one.
Gerard's aura of calm was a fake, and badly presented one at that. He felt completely taut, as if his muscles were hiding from what he had done. Fuck, what had he done? Shot his best fucking friend dead pan, that's what. And why? Because of this poor, tired, innocent fucking boy that had no clue why he was here with a murderer.
Over the years, Frank had not changed, Gerard thought. The boy had a few more words to say now, but in effect, he was still as tormented as he had been then. All Gerard had wanted to do was help the kid, because it wasn't often that you saw someone in such a state as he was in, and promptly spring a hard on. All those years gone by, and not one day had passed without Gerard's thought of Frank. Admittedly, he hadn't known his name from their encounter, but he could never forget such a pained face. Something about him standing there crying, practically naked, all bloody and out-of-it, made Gerard's blood curl. He needed to pursue whoever had done this to Frank. Regardless of the fact that he himself was a cold-blooded killer, there was something that seemed so wrong about the situation. Gerard killed killers, even if the police and the media didn't know or display that. If anything, Gerard's homicide helped America.
Just like he'd helped Frank.
Gerard looked lazily up at the doe-eyed boy through the mirror above his own forehead. He looked so scared, so so scared. He was regarding the wrecked scene about him, seeming so helpless. Gerard's heart ached for the boy; in protectiveness and in love. Bob knew, well, at least Gerard thought Bob knew that he loved Frank. Maybe not at first when he'd finally found him after seven years in Olkahoma a month ago, but he definitely was now. Every curve and line of Frank's features set a wave of pleasurable nausea through Gerard
Bob had known. Shit.
Shaking the thought of his best friend away, Gerard looked back at Frank, an expected jolt of protectiveness striking his chest. “How you hanging up, Frankie?” Gerard grinded his teeth.
Frank looked up in surprise, then his face folded in on itself as he began to weep again. “I, I remember.”
Gerard's body tensed. “I'm sorry, Frank. I wish you knew how important this is, and I know, I know I shouldn't have done it, but I fucking had to-”
“Not Bob,” Frank croaked. “The men. Who made me like I am. Who made me forget what they did.”
Gerard visibly gulped.
“I remember.”
And the world exploded.
Or rather, the rear right tyre exploded. But still, it felt like the world exploded to Frank.
His crying stopped abruptly as he was thrown to the other end of the car, the seat belt ripping out from the impact. Gerard cursed and desperately turned the driving wheel this way and that before he was thrown to the other side of the car too. He had crashed into a tree.
As if by reflex, the two of them tumbled out of the car and onto a gravelly, grassy farm-like track. From first impressions, it seemed like this followed the same highway they'd been driving on all the time, but slightly more to the west. Through a band of bushes Frank could see minuscule trucks driving up the motorway.
Both of them clambered to their feet to see their attacker.
Gerard tiredly pulled a gun out from his side. Frank wondered how long it had been since he'd last had sleep. Almost instantaneously, another car pulled up beside them, unmarked with any police indicators but the window was down and a gun-clad hand was hanging out of it.
Gerard's hands steadied on his own gun as the person holding the second made to exit his car. However, before he could do that, another person burst free from the back of their car. He had a mane of brown curls and luxurious dark skin. His face was desperate and pained, like he had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. And so he had.
Frank's heart stopped.
Ray.
Mikey was never as passionate about this whole thing as Gerard had been. Well, Mikey's brother had been infatuated with the boy. So when Adam, himself, and Toro'fro pulled up next to Gerard and the Frank Iero himself, Mikey stayed in the car.
The amount of arguing it had taken to persuade Adam the ass to bring him along with Ray had been excruciating, but effective. Mikey was not going to miss out on seeing whether Frank and Gerard were engaged and expecting a child yet. Although Gerard was oblivious, Mikey had known all these years how he had felt about Frank. Every time they discussed these plans and Frank's safety was brought to hand, his lip had quivered and his eyes had narrowed.
Adam, in the driver's seat, was first to get out the car. However, the twitching afro beside Mikey beat Adam to it. His eyes were wide as saucepans and the struggle to contain himself was etched into his expression. In an explosion of repressed energy, Ray Toro burst from the car. Mikey might have tried to stop him, had Adam not shackled his wrists together.
Never trust a criminal, Mikey thought bitterly.
“Stop right fucking there!” Gerard screamed, brandishing his gun at Frank's best-friend.
Could've sworn I killed that one. The scene before him was piteous. Frank half covered in blood and shivering with exhilaration, looking gobsmacked at the live figure of his best-friend. Toro, beginning to cry, frozen still with fear at the barrel of Gerard's gun, looking like he wanted nothing more than to touch the boy to ensure that he was real. Then, some prick half-in and half-out of his car, looking like he had been expecting less of a defence. And then, to Gerard's complete shock, his brother, hand cuffed and waltzing round the back of the car, a smirk on his face.
“Long time no see, Gee.” Mikey chuckled warmly. He had lost a lot of weight; his cheekbones and jaw much more pronounced now. “See how far we've come?” He pulled a reassuring expression.
Gerard thought his heart might burst. He tore his attention away from his brother and brought it back to the other two unfamiliar figures. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Gerard swung the gun back towards the stranger with the firearms. “And how did you get those two?” Gerard sneered at Ray. “How did your revive him?”
The man exited the car completely, slowly. He brought his gun gently up with him as he spoke. “My name's Adam. I'm an interrogater.” He nodded towards Mikey. “I was assigned your brother, and he told me about your little plan.” Adam gestured towards Frank.
A sudden pang of betrayal seized Gerard. Mikey ratted me out? He looked mournfully at his brother, who's bright expression had dropped. “He fucking what?”
The eye contact between Ray and Frank seemed to last forever. They didn't need to say anything to understand what each other were feeling. All this time Frank had thought him killed; the only thing that had tainted his opinion of Gerard. But here he stood before him, clear as day, real as life. Ray.
“Pudge,” Ray addressed breathlessly.
Frank swallowed, disbelieving. “Ray.”
They stared at each other for a while longer, ignoring the shouting and argument about them. Then something clicked, and they were in each other's arms, weeping and squeezing, best friends together again. It was almost like nothing had changed.
But as Frank knew, everything had changed.
Mikey's mood dropped straight away. Adam, himself, and his brother were ignoring the two men embracing by the broken down car. It was just the three of them left in focus, the rest of the world blurred. “It wasn't like that, Gee.”
But Gerard's temper was obviously already bubbling. Mikey was very rarely scared of his brother, but when he was angry, he was a fuse about to light. “Then how was it, Mikey? Huh?” He stared at his brother. “Did he torture you?” He waved his gun in Adam's direction before clicking it and aiming it at the interrogator's head. “Because you said that through anything, through interrogation, through jail, through torture, you would keep your mouth closed.” Gerard sneered at his brother
Mikey had no words. He looked helplessly at his brother, and saw in horror about what was going to happen. Adam was taking advantage of Gerard's distracted focus, and was creeping cautiously behind him. Urgently, Mikey tried to get his brother's attention as Adam advanced on Gerard. “Gee...!”
It happened in a flash. Gerard, the great Gerard Way, had let his guard down. Before his own brother's eyes, he himself had been handcuffed too by the interrogator, and Adam's gun was somehow held firmly to his head. It had happened so fast that Gerard was not even in shock, just slightly pissed off. But as Adam's grip strengthened, he felt, what was that? Worried?
With nothing else to do, he called for the only person he trusted that was not in handcuffs. He wasn't even sure if he could trust his brother. But that didn't matter when there was a gun to his head. “Frank!”
And then, much like it had for Gerard and Frank multiple times before, everything happened at the same time. Gerard was shoved forcibly up against the car, Mikey was running like a headless chicken to try and rid his brother of Adam, and Ray shouted out to ward Mikey off.
And Frank, apparently, had had enough.
Ray was in complete shock. Frank, here in his arms, in his protection, even for a moment. Frank, his best friend, his companion, not Gerard fucking Way's. Gerard Way, who was finally under arrest for all that he had done to his best friend. However, Ray heard Frank stop weeping, and his chest stopped racking. Suddenly, Frank was much heavier than he had been before. In a blind panic he shook the boy, but that only sped up Frank's fall to the rocky ground. “Frank? Frank?”
As Frank fell asleep, he heard the commotion about him rise, but he was calm. He had the two men he cared for most closest to him, though which one was closer, he didn't quite know.
*
When Frank woke, the scene about him was quite different.
Before he had fainted, Gerard and Mikey had been the ones in cuffs. However, now it appeared that Adam was the one under arrest, and Gerard and Mikey were apparently free handed. Ray, Frank saw with relief, was unhurt and was crouched in a panic next to Adam, who was leant against his own car, looking mightily pissed off. When Ray saw that Frank was awake, he seemed to breathe again.
Gerard stood cooly but the engine of his own -stolen- car, holding a gun pointed in Adam's direction and lazily picking at his fingernails. When he made eye contact with the conscious Frank, he smirked that self-appraising, sexy smile that he must have known weakened Frank. “Hey,” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Frank.
“H-hi.” Frank greeted sheepishly.
Mikey stood a few metres from Gerard, and apparently they'd sorted themselves out because they began to speak then in pleasant undertones, as Mikey wringed his sore wrists. After a few minutes of Frank looking helplessly between the ill-looking Adam, a distraught Ray who had apparently been told to stay away from Frank, and Gerard and Mikey seemingly scheming, Gerard made his way over to Frank. Frank's heart clenched as he watched the raven-haired man approach, and his chest tightened with butterflies. He sat up a little, trying to look a little stronger than he felt. “Listen up,” Gerard smiled softly as he set to stroking Frank's mouse brown hair. “We're gonna carry on with Mikey, in that prick's car-” he gestured towards Adam, and turned back to Frank calmly, “and we're gonna carry the fuck on like none of this ever happened, okay?”
“Bu-but what about Ray?” Frank stammered, then winced as Mikey kicked Adam clear of his car. He heard Ray scream out and he felt his eyes begin to well, a-fucking-gain.
“Shh,” Gerard cooed. “Never mind.”
And with that, Gerard scooped Frank's slight frame up in his own strengthy arms and carried him to the new car.
Frank might've called out for his best friend, but he was too weak. He was too tired, too lost, and too confused. Frank was just too too.
As the vehicle sunk with Mikey and Gerard's added weights in the front seats, Frank looked helplessly out at his best friend in hysterics and his companion, who sat looking forlorn beside Gerard's stolen car. And then Frank cried, and for the first time in a while, not for himself.
The gravel began to crunch beneath the wheels as Gerard reversed the car, and began to drive again up the rickety road. Frank might have fallen asleep again, if he had not heard the third gunshot he'd encountered over the past twenty four hours. Jaxon jumped down from the back shelf with a whine and leapt forward onto Mikey's lap. He jumped reflexively and noticed with annoyance that yet another window had smashed behind him. With wide eyes he watched and waited as Ray marched up to the car, dragging Adam. Then, as if he had no inhibitions at all, Ray ripped open the car door opposite to Frank, flung Adam into the middle seat and jumped in after him.
As he swung the door shut, Gerard complained, “Hey, hey, hey, fro! The fuck do you think you're doing?” He swung about his seat and glared at the man behind him. “Fuck off!”
Mikey exhaled defeatedly.
“We're coming with you,” Ray stated through his raw-from-crying throat, as if that decided everything.
“No you fucking aren't-”
“Just let them.” Mikey sighed exhaustedly.
Gerard looked incredulously at his brother. “Pardon?”
“Hurry the fuck up.” Mikey insisted. He threw a thumb back in the gagged Adam's direction. “We have a police hostage. We have Frank. What more do we need? Fucking drive.”
“We need less baggage.” Gerard growled. He glared at Mikey for a while before visually giving up. “Fucking fine.” Gerard looked at Frank through the mirror, who looked completely lost in the situation. “This better be worth it, Frankie.”
Worth what? Frank wanted to say. But he was tired of asking questions.
3:26pm.
Frank woke up amidst his own confusion and Gerard's stiff quiet. In a haze, he pulled himself upright in the car seat. The seat belt had dug little pink trenches across his shoulder and neck as he slept. It took him a while to rid himself of the peaceful sleep he'd had and comprehend the horrid reality that was his situation.
There seemed to be a massive gap in his memory, as if something very big and very relevant was escaping the clutches of his mind. There also, in fact, seemed to be something very large missing from his usual view from the back seat of the car. The passenger seat diagonally across from him where Gerard was usually slunk was empty. It was queer having afternoon light pour in from the dirty windows where Gerard's frame would usually block it out. As he climbed the gradient of consciousness, Frank noticed with a shock that the car was moving. Nobody was next to him in the back seat either. His heart began slapping against his ribs in increasing concern. Where is Gerard? Frank thought worriedly. He's always there.
It is obscure when you fall in love, -or lust, as was Frank's case-, because you always feel like you are missing something without that person. Even though you have lived your whole life without them until now, you still feel like they are necessary to you. You cannot live without them, and deep down, you hope that they cannot survive without you. This is what we call dependent love. And oh God, was Frank dependent on the utterly terrifying but inhumanly attractive multi-murderer that held him captive.
Jesus, Frank, he thought bemusedly. This doesn't get any less surreal with time.
Frank noticed with a bout of relief that Gerard was not in the passenger seat because he was driving. With utmost adoration he observed the black, greasy locks flutter gently in the breeze flying through the window. He watched the dirty, slender fingers that had comforted him more than once as they tapped the leather steering wheel which they held. He watched Gerard's face, drawn with concentration, through the wing mirrors. And oh God did he love that face; the hazel eyes, the wit beyond his years, the thin, serious lips that looked so, so accessible...
And like the jolt of a trigger and the whizz of a bullet, Frank realized.
Bob.
Shards of glass were scattered about his lap and feet, and his head was bloody once again as he had leant it on the razor sharp edges of the door. Normally, he'd rest it against the glass as he slept, but there was no glass left. He remembered now. Shattering, the speed of his heart rate a definite match for Usain Bolt. Flashing blue lights, screaming, shouting, Gerard's own controlled whimpering as they'd escaped.
A gun shot. Bob.
Bob was dead. He must be dead. Frank had seen him fall from his view out of the back window.
All because of me, and my stupid, fucking stupid dream-
Frank paused mentally. Not dream. Memory.
And Kel and Trent's faces drifted into Frank's mind once more.
The drive through the side tracks of the last greenland before New York state was not a comfortable one.
Gerard's aura of calm was a fake, and badly presented one at that. He felt completely taut, as if his muscles were hiding from what he had done. Fuck, what had he done? Shot his best fucking friend dead pan, that's what. And why? Because of this poor, tired, innocent fucking boy that had no clue why he was here with a murderer.
Over the years, Frank had not changed, Gerard thought. The boy had a few more words to say now, but in effect, he was still as tormented as he had been then. All Gerard had wanted to do was help the kid, because it wasn't often that you saw someone in such a state as he was in, and promptly spring a hard on. All those years gone by, and not one day had passed without Gerard's thought of Frank. Admittedly, he hadn't known his name from their encounter, but he could never forget such a pained face. Something about him standing there crying, practically naked, all bloody and out-of-it, made Gerard's blood curl. He needed to pursue whoever had done this to Frank. Regardless of the fact that he himself was a cold-blooded killer, there was something that seemed so wrong about the situation. Gerard killed killers, even if the police and the media didn't know or display that. If anything, Gerard's homicide helped America.
Just like he'd helped Frank.
Gerard looked lazily up at the doe-eyed boy through the mirror above his own forehead. He looked so scared, so so scared. He was regarding the wrecked scene about him, seeming so helpless. Gerard's heart ached for the boy; in protectiveness and in love. Bob knew, well, at least Gerard thought Bob knew that he loved Frank. Maybe not at first when he'd finally found him after seven years in Olkahoma a month ago, but he definitely was now. Every curve and line of Frank's features set a wave of pleasurable nausea through Gerard
Bob had known. Shit.
Shaking the thought of his best friend away, Gerard looked back at Frank, an expected jolt of protectiveness striking his chest. “How you hanging up, Frankie?” Gerard grinded his teeth.
Frank looked up in surprise, then his face folded in on itself as he began to weep again. “I, I remember.”
Gerard's body tensed. “I'm sorry, Frank. I wish you knew how important this is, and I know, I know I shouldn't have done it, but I fucking had to-”
“Not Bob,” Frank croaked. “The men. Who made me like I am. Who made me forget what they did.”
Gerard visibly gulped.
“I remember.”
And the world exploded.
Or rather, the rear right tyre exploded. But still, it felt like the world exploded to Frank.
His crying stopped abruptly as he was thrown to the other end of the car, the seat belt ripping out from the impact. Gerard cursed and desperately turned the driving wheel this way and that before he was thrown to the other side of the car too. He had crashed into a tree.
As if by reflex, the two of them tumbled out of the car and onto a gravelly, grassy farm-like track. From first impressions, it seemed like this followed the same highway they'd been driving on all the time, but slightly more to the west. Through a band of bushes Frank could see minuscule trucks driving up the motorway.
Both of them clambered to their feet to see their attacker.
Gerard tiredly pulled a gun out from his side. Frank wondered how long it had been since he'd last had sleep. Almost instantaneously, another car pulled up beside them, unmarked with any police indicators but the window was down and a gun-clad hand was hanging out of it.
Gerard's hands steadied on his own gun as the person holding the second made to exit his car. However, before he could do that, another person burst free from the back of their car. He had a mane of brown curls and luxurious dark skin. His face was desperate and pained, like he had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. And so he had.
Frank's heart stopped.
Ray.
Mikey was never as passionate about this whole thing as Gerard had been. Well, Mikey's brother had been infatuated with the boy. So when Adam, himself, and Toro'fro pulled up next to Gerard and the Frank Iero himself, Mikey stayed in the car.
The amount of arguing it had taken to persuade Adam the ass to bring him along with Ray had been excruciating, but effective. Mikey was not going to miss out on seeing whether Frank and Gerard were engaged and expecting a child yet. Although Gerard was oblivious, Mikey had known all these years how he had felt about Frank. Every time they discussed these plans and Frank's safety was brought to hand, his lip had quivered and his eyes had narrowed.
Adam, in the driver's seat, was first to get out the car. However, the twitching afro beside Mikey beat Adam to it. His eyes were wide as saucepans and the struggle to contain himself was etched into his expression. In an explosion of repressed energy, Ray Toro burst from the car. Mikey might have tried to stop him, had Adam not shackled his wrists together.
Never trust a criminal, Mikey thought bitterly.
“Stop right fucking there!” Gerard screamed, brandishing his gun at Frank's best-friend.
Could've sworn I killed that one. The scene before him was piteous. Frank half covered in blood and shivering with exhilaration, looking gobsmacked at the live figure of his best-friend. Toro, beginning to cry, frozen still with fear at the barrel of Gerard's gun, looking like he wanted nothing more than to touch the boy to ensure that he was real. Then, some prick half-in and half-out of his car, looking like he had been expecting less of a defence. And then, to Gerard's complete shock, his brother, hand cuffed and waltzing round the back of the car, a smirk on his face.
“Long time no see, Gee.” Mikey chuckled warmly. He had lost a lot of weight; his cheekbones and jaw much more pronounced now. “See how far we've come?” He pulled a reassuring expression.
Gerard thought his heart might burst. He tore his attention away from his brother and brought it back to the other two unfamiliar figures. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Gerard swung the gun back towards the stranger with the firearms. “And how did you get those two?” Gerard sneered at Ray. “How did your revive him?”
The man exited the car completely, slowly. He brought his gun gently up with him as he spoke. “My name's Adam. I'm an interrogater.” He nodded towards Mikey. “I was assigned your brother, and he told me about your little plan.” Adam gestured towards Frank.
A sudden pang of betrayal seized Gerard. Mikey ratted me out? He looked mournfully at his brother, who's bright expression had dropped. “He fucking what?”
The eye contact between Ray and Frank seemed to last forever. They didn't need to say anything to understand what each other were feeling. All this time Frank had thought him killed; the only thing that had tainted his opinion of Gerard. But here he stood before him, clear as day, real as life. Ray.
“Pudge,” Ray addressed breathlessly.
Frank swallowed, disbelieving. “Ray.”
They stared at each other for a while longer, ignoring the shouting and argument about them. Then something clicked, and they were in each other's arms, weeping and squeezing, best friends together again. It was almost like nothing had changed.
But as Frank knew, everything had changed.
Mikey's mood dropped straight away. Adam, himself, and his brother were ignoring the two men embracing by the broken down car. It was just the three of them left in focus, the rest of the world blurred. “It wasn't like that, Gee.”
But Gerard's temper was obviously already bubbling. Mikey was very rarely scared of his brother, but when he was angry, he was a fuse about to light. “Then how was it, Mikey? Huh?” He stared at his brother. “Did he torture you?” He waved his gun in Adam's direction before clicking it and aiming it at the interrogator's head. “Because you said that through anything, through interrogation, through jail, through torture, you would keep your mouth closed.” Gerard sneered at his brother
Mikey had no words. He looked helplessly at his brother, and saw in horror about what was going to happen. Adam was taking advantage of Gerard's distracted focus, and was creeping cautiously behind him. Urgently, Mikey tried to get his brother's attention as Adam advanced on Gerard. “Gee...!”
It happened in a flash. Gerard, the great Gerard Way, had let his guard down. Before his own brother's eyes, he himself had been handcuffed too by the interrogator, and Adam's gun was somehow held firmly to his head. It had happened so fast that Gerard was not even in shock, just slightly pissed off. But as Adam's grip strengthened, he felt, what was that? Worried?
With nothing else to do, he called for the only person he trusted that was not in handcuffs. He wasn't even sure if he could trust his brother. But that didn't matter when there was a gun to his head. “Frank!”
And then, much like it had for Gerard and Frank multiple times before, everything happened at the same time. Gerard was shoved forcibly up against the car, Mikey was running like a headless chicken to try and rid his brother of Adam, and Ray shouted out to ward Mikey off.
And Frank, apparently, had had enough.
Ray was in complete shock. Frank, here in his arms, in his protection, even for a moment. Frank, his best friend, his companion, not Gerard fucking Way's. Gerard Way, who was finally under arrest for all that he had done to his best friend. However, Ray heard Frank stop weeping, and his chest stopped racking. Suddenly, Frank was much heavier than he had been before. In a blind panic he shook the boy, but that only sped up Frank's fall to the rocky ground. “Frank? Frank?”
As Frank fell asleep, he heard the commotion about him rise, but he was calm. He had the two men he cared for most closest to him, though which one was closer, he didn't quite know.
*
When Frank woke, the scene about him was quite different.
Before he had fainted, Gerard and Mikey had been the ones in cuffs. However, now it appeared that Adam was the one under arrest, and Gerard and Mikey were apparently free handed. Ray, Frank saw with relief, was unhurt and was crouched in a panic next to Adam, who was leant against his own car, looking mightily pissed off. When Ray saw that Frank was awake, he seemed to breathe again.
Gerard stood cooly but the engine of his own -stolen- car, holding a gun pointed in Adam's direction and lazily picking at his fingernails. When he made eye contact with the conscious Frank, he smirked that self-appraising, sexy smile that he must have known weakened Frank. “Hey,” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Frank.
“H-hi.” Frank greeted sheepishly.
Mikey stood a few metres from Gerard, and apparently they'd sorted themselves out because they began to speak then in pleasant undertones, as Mikey wringed his sore wrists. After a few minutes of Frank looking helplessly between the ill-looking Adam, a distraught Ray who had apparently been told to stay away from Frank, and Gerard and Mikey seemingly scheming, Gerard made his way over to Frank. Frank's heart clenched as he watched the raven-haired man approach, and his chest tightened with butterflies. He sat up a little, trying to look a little stronger than he felt. “Listen up,” Gerard smiled softly as he set to stroking Frank's mouse brown hair. “We're gonna carry on with Mikey, in that prick's car-” he gestured towards Adam, and turned back to Frank calmly, “and we're gonna carry the fuck on like none of this ever happened, okay?”
“Bu-but what about Ray?” Frank stammered, then winced as Mikey kicked Adam clear of his car. He heard Ray scream out and he felt his eyes begin to well, a-fucking-gain.
“Shh,” Gerard cooed. “Never mind.”
And with that, Gerard scooped Frank's slight frame up in his own strengthy arms and carried him to the new car.
Frank might've called out for his best friend, but he was too weak. He was too tired, too lost, and too confused. Frank was just too too.
As the vehicle sunk with Mikey and Gerard's added weights in the front seats, Frank looked helplessly out at his best friend in hysterics and his companion, who sat looking forlorn beside Gerard's stolen car. And then Frank cried, and for the first time in a while, not for himself.
The gravel began to crunch beneath the wheels as Gerard reversed the car, and began to drive again up the rickety road. Frank might have fallen asleep again, if he had not heard the third gunshot he'd encountered over the past twenty four hours. Jaxon jumped down from the back shelf with a whine and leapt forward onto Mikey's lap. He jumped reflexively and noticed with annoyance that yet another window had smashed behind him. With wide eyes he watched and waited as Ray marched up to the car, dragging Adam. Then, as if he had no inhibitions at all, Ray ripped open the car door opposite to Frank, flung Adam into the middle seat and jumped in after him.
As he swung the door shut, Gerard complained, “Hey, hey, hey, fro! The fuck do you think you're doing?” He swung about his seat and glared at the man behind him. “Fuck off!”
Mikey exhaled defeatedly.
“We're coming with you,” Ray stated through his raw-from-crying throat, as if that decided everything.
“No you fucking aren't-”
“Just let them.” Mikey sighed exhaustedly.
Gerard looked incredulously at his brother. “Pardon?”
“Hurry the fuck up.” Mikey insisted. He threw a thumb back in the gagged Adam's direction. “We have a police hostage. We have Frank. What more do we need? Fucking drive.”
“We need less baggage.” Gerard growled. He glared at Mikey for a while before visually giving up. “Fucking fine.” Gerard looked at Frank through the mirror, who looked completely lost in the situation. “This better be worth it, Frankie.”
Worth what? Frank wanted to say. But he was tired of asking questions.
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