Frank stared at Gerard as he moved around the kitchen, humming something softly to himself.

He too drained, exhausted and upset to care where he was. Apparently this place was 'their brand new house, where we're going to live happily ever after Frankie'.

It may as well be a fucking prison cell as far as Frank was concerned. The day he got out of this place would be the day Gerard dragged him out in a body bag. Death was the only freedom Frank could see now, because freedom did not exist within the walls of this place.

He didn't care though. He was beyond caring now.

Maybe he'd care in the morning. Or was it morning already? Frank looked over to the window to see soft rays of light creeping through the trees as the sun rose.

Yeah. It was morning. And he still didn't care.

Frank didn't like the fact that his new home was beautiful. Why couldn't Gerard have just taken him somewhere disgusting and dingy, somewhere he could easily hate? Why did he have to bring him to such a beautiful, peaceful house? Frank didn't want to like anything about the place, but he couldn't help it.

There was a road twisting away through the forest. Gerard had turned off the main road and driven up this dark, tree lined road. Frank had sleepily watched the trees as they passed. The branches were bare and skeletal, the odd shrivelled leaf clinging on for life appearing now and then. Frank had noticed lights glowing through the trees from other houses as they drove along.

When they finally reached the house, Gerard had insisted Frank should stay in the car so he could go in and turn the lights on, so Frank could see the house lit up in the dark.

Frank waited for huge shadowy mass in front of him to become something recognisable, and when it did, he was slightly taken aback.

The house was big. Big, with tall, slanted walls and roof. It was made from brick, wood and glass, the sloping structure of the roof made from pale wood, large amounts of glass constructed into the walls and bricks making up the beautiful building. Trees boarded the property and lined the big long drive way that led back to the road.

Frank blinked and when Gerard asked him what he thought of their new home, he'd just nodded. Gerard's smile had faltered and slowly disappeared.

"That's OK Frankie. You're just tired. You'll be able to see it properly when it's light, and then you'll like it. I promise."

Frank did like it. He just really, really didn't want to.

"Harriet, shush. He's just tired, we've been travelling for days. And he still hurt, look," Gerard mumbled irritably to nobody.

"Gerard. Who... Who are you talking to?" Frank asked slowly, frowning and looking around the kitchen.

Gerard smiled gently and set the mug of steaming hot chocolate in front of Frank. "Harriet."

"There's nobody here Gerard."

Gerard rolled his eyes, sighing and sipping whatever was in his mug. "There is. You just can't see her. I should have known you wouldn't have been able to see her either. The doctors said...never mind."

Sometimes, when Gerard wasn't being delusional, hysterical and a homicidal maniac, Frank found it easy to forget Gerard was sick.

"What does she look like?"

"She looks...dad always said she looked like me, but I never saw it," Gerard answered sadly.

"What? I thought you said nobody else could see her?"

"They can't, not anymore," Gerard answered.

"Then what-"

"She died."

Frank fell silent, staring down at his hot chocolate before looking back up at Gerard. He was simply staring at the French doors set into the kitchen wall, watching a small sparrow hopping round the garden with a blank face.

"She was my sister. My twin. She died when we were about nine. Car accident," Gerard answered. "I thought I'd never see her again. But then she just... I don't know, she just didn't... didnt go away after she died. I used to think she was a ghost but... now I don't really know. The doctors said I've just been imagining her."

"What happened to you Gerard?" Frank asked quietly.

"What makes you think anything happened to me?" Gerard asked, not looking away from the sparrow that still occupied the garden.

"I can just kind of feel it."

"In my soul?"

Frank frowned. "No. I wouldn't say it's that."

"Good. Because I don't have a soul. It's just empty inside of me. Empty apart from the drugs."

"Gerard-"

"My friend was stabbed in front of me. The others ran away, but I stayed. I just thought....I thought that if that was me, lying on the ground bleeding out, I wouldnt want to be alone. So I stayed with him. I don't know why they took him away to the hospital. He was already dead when they got there. His life Frankie, it was all over my fucking hands and arms and all over the floor and stained in my clothes and....and...Isaw it. I saw it in his eyes, the way they just sort of faded out like a pathetic little candle.

That was when my parents got worried though because I just sort of stopped being me, y'know? I saw things that scared me and it messed me up. I know... I know I do bad things but I can't help it. Doctors said my head's just a little bit sick, but it's OK. I'll get better."

Frank found tears dripping off of his jaw when Gerard was finished speaking and he did nothing to wipe them away. Gerard finally looked at him when the sparrow flitted up through the air and left the garden.

His blank face softened when he saw Frank's tears and got up and walked round the small kitchen table to Frank, crouching down next to him.

"Hey. It's OK, Frankie. I'll get better. I promise," Gerard told him gently, kissing his forehead. "Come on, you're tired. We should go to bed."

Frank just nodded and left his untouched hot chocolate on the table, letting Gerard lead him through the house, knowing Gerard wasn't ever going to get better.