FicWad

When Gerard regained some sort of conciousness, he was in a white room with padded walls on either side.

The floor was padded too, and Gerard closed his eyes and basked in the soft marshmellowy sensation against his skin. It was cool, dry, perfection. There wasn't even a window in here to remind him of what the everyday world looked like -- Gerard liked it this way.

The room must have had some sort of air conditioning, because a perfect breeze washed over his face. Gerard sighed in content and suddenly felt like he was on a cloud.

It was then that he tried to move his arm to get up and walk around. As much as the muscle would allow him to move, he felt somewhat constricted. He looked down.
His arms were in thick, white bandages cleverly covered up with an immaculate white jacket.

Both of his arms were bound to his chest. When Gerard tried to move his other arm, he felt that same resistance he had a moment before. Then it dawned on him -- he was in solitary confinement.

Gerard remembered what had just happened. It had felt brilliant at the time; he felt powerful, and in some sort of control of his life. Now he was, yet again, a prisoner.

For the few hours until the nurse finally came to check on him, Gerard re-assessed everything that had happened, playing it over in his mind like a stuck record. He wondered what had happened to the glass -- and who had found him?

"I don't know." he said, feeling somewhat defeated at his own feeble attempt to make a sense of things.

Catching Gerard off guard, a tall nurse walked in. She had a notepad under her arm and a pen stuck out of one of the pockets on her left. She didn't look very happy.

"Mr Way?" she used a cold tone, one that made Gerard sort of feel... angry.

"Yes?" Gerard spat through gritted teeth, and he looked away from her.

"You have counselling in 20 minutes. I'll get you out of that hideous straight jacket, and you can go and explain in your own words why you did such a foolish thing."

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!!!!" He yelled, feeling the sudden urge to smack this twisted woman across the face. She looked very offended.

"Honey, save it for the shrink." She suddenly grabbed hold of him, and before Gerard knew anything else was happening he was being marched down a corridor he'd never been down before, with a cold hand gripping onto his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Gerard spat at the nurse, who stopped briefly to untie his straight jacket. All the while, Gerard eyed her with a venemous stare.

Once he was untied, the nurse yet again led him down another corridor before stopping in front of a counselling room. On the door, the label read 'Mrs. Shawbury'. A look of terror spread across Gerard's face -- this was the same woman that tried to sexually assault him last time he'd been to see her. He hadn't told anyone, of course, because it wasn't their business.

Gerard remembered what had happened more clearly than almost anything in his life. He was sat down, he was writing some notes down for a song he was writing.

She had come up behind him, running her grimy, cold hands up and down his waist and began to massage his shoulders. Then, she started to kiss and lick up and down his slender neck -- the feeling felt like clams attacking his pale skin.

He remembered the point in which he'd thrown her away, told her some very nasty things and walked out. And now, he was here again, like a crawler coming back after a fight and asking for forgiveness.

He walked into the room, and it wasn't the pleasant sort of cold he'd felt in the solitary confinement room. It was a bitter cold, and the goosebumps ran up Gerard's arms as he sat down in front of Mrs Shawbury.

"Ah, Gerard. It's good to see you again!" She chirped, flashing Gerard a faker-than-fake bleached smile, and flicked her blonde curls back, emphasising her bright blue eyes.

Gerard said nothing.

"Okay, Gerard... Where shall we start? I have Nurse Ellis' notes here, she said that you've been doing terrible things to yourself. That's not good, Gerard. Can you tell me what you did?"

"You'd love to know." Gerard was not looking at her, he was concentrating on a small bug that had flown in through the open window.

"Well, I don't need to know what you did. But I would like to know /why/. Why did you do this, Gerard?"

She was giving him puppy dog eyes now, and Gerard found it all too nauseating, and felt yet again the sudden urge to be sick.

Then something weird happened. One minute, Gerard was looking at the innocent bug at the window, the next thing he knew, his pyjama trousers were down, and Mrs Shawbury was slowly snaking her hand up his leg, and the other one rubbing circles on his right hip.

Gerard had to say it felt quite nice at first, until he realised what was going on. It really made him alarm when he felt a freezing cold hand travel south down his boxers.

Gerard gasped, and pulled him trousers up before running out of the room, not bothering to look at Mrs Shawbury, who was somewhat confused at his sudden departure.

He ran all the way to his room, to find Frankie sitting on his bed, reading a book.

"Oh hey, Gerard. Are you okay now?"

"No. No, I'm not. Give me a hug, Frank!"

The two boys embraced for a long time, a sense of security and warmth consuming Gerard. For the first time in ages, he felt safe.