Give me all your pills..... (Frerard)

Frank didn’t even go back to the diner, he ran straight home. He didn’t stop to smell the flowers, or check his watch to see if it was time to pick up Roxas from school. He sprinted until his lungs felt as if he’d swallowed sand, until the soles of his feet were bleeding from the continuous rubbing of cotton on his skin. He didn’t stop until he finally saw the dark burgundy door of his apartment building. He shoved through and stomped up the stairs until he saw B19, key ready in hand. The door crashed against the pale white wall as he slammed inside. He grabbed what he needed and left.

He couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t handle this.

~

“Daddy?” Roxas called out to the apartment, it was disturbingly quiet. She was used to substantial chatter of her dad singing along to the radio, scritch scratching away at bills and papers. Sometimes this guy named Brian would show up and hover over him, pointing at a certain paper, taking him to the other room for a few minutes to hide their conversation from her. She takes a few steps further inside the kitchen, he bag plunking on the linoleum floor. “Daddy!”

Roxas knows something is wrong. She runs furiously to Frank’s room, knocking on the door. She doesn’t want to make daddy mad for just walking inside. Sometimes he’ll freak out if she even pokes her nose in, and other times he invited her inside to snuggle with him while he’s not feeling so well. No one answers, so she takes that as the go-ahead, turning the wood handle slowly. When she looks inside...no one. Roxas shuts the door hard, she can already feel the hot stream of tears down her cheeks, snot dripping above her top lip. She walks slowly to the bathroom, pushing the already cracked door further open, and still nothing. If Frank isn’t in his room, the bathroom, or the front room, where could he possibly be?

Roxas stands in front of her bedroom door. She’s scared to see what is on the other side. Kicking the door open with the tip of her right foot, all she sees is the bright blue of her wallpaper flowers, and the chiffon canopy hanging from the ceiling. Her daddy’s gone. He left her alone.

~

Gerard slammed his fist hard against the wall. He can’t believe he messed this up. He should have just left it. He knew it was Frank, he’d been there before, almost a dozen times now, sitting in the dark corner. Nobody recognized him anymore. His old self was completely gone, no longer the chubby dark haired artist that popped pills for fun, drank alcohol as a hobby.

He was still so angry. Angry at Frank for not noticing the way he slurred when he talked, his red eyes, in the short time they were together. They shouldn’t have rushed it. Gerard should have just dropped Frank off at home, not taken him to his house and practically seduced him. They barely even knew each other, for Christ’s sake.

And now with Bert in town… Gerard wasn’t sure he could mend the already thin bridge of hope he had.

~

All Frank could smell was the sharp tang of mold seeping inside his nostrils like warm bath water. With the dark walls feeling like they were closing in on him, he just wanted to squeeze his skull until he could feel bits of brain matter between his inked fingers. Bits of sand crunched under his feet as he walked further down the black hallway, palms flat on the wall to guide himself to the dead end.

He just had to get to the end.

~

Roxas knew what to do. It had happened before.

She wiped her wet eyes, and set off into the kitchen. Daddy would be back by bedtime, he always was. She could make her own snack, right? I mean, peanut butter and celery wasn’t too hard to make, right?

~

“Is he here?”

The guy with neon yellow glasses leans back a little, he kind of looks like a highlighter. “Not since he fucking spewed his guts out man.” Bright Lights rocks on his heels, “And how do you know Frank?”

Gerard huffs, “Old friends.”

~

The guitar feels really good in his hands. He hadn’t seen her in awhile. She was a little damp, but the string where in place, tuned, and unscratched. Frank strummed a few chords, unfamiliar with the gruff acoustic sound against the thick cement walls in the dark. He hadn’t played underground in over a month, but it felt good, it felt natural. He felt at home. Frank just hoped that Roxas was realizing it was one of those days, and made herself a snack.

~

Who knew that plastic butter knives could be so sharp? Roxas hadn’t. She had a tiny little slice on the pad of her pointer finger, and peanut butter caked on top of it. Plus blood. It kind of hurt but in a dull kind of way. She shoved her finger in her mouth and sucked the peanut butter-blood celery juice mixture off and picked a metal spoon from the utensil drawer, while dropping the knife into the garbage can by the counter. She dipped the spoon inside the peanut butter and got a huge glob before scraping it off the spoon onto the end of the celery, smoothing it out with her hands (making a huge mess, dear God). Roxas washed her hands quickly in the tall sink, standing on the tips of her toes to reach the soap, and then brought her snack over to the TV.

~

“And how long where you guys friends?”

Gerard sighed, loudly. “I don’t - what? Why does that even matter?! You know what,” he mumbled the last but as he turned on his heel back out the door onto the street. He could find Frank himself.

But not until he went back home to get his supplies first.

~

Frank was really trying not to think about how there was probably over a million spiders in the wet corners of this place. He could practically feel them crawling up his arms and into his eyeballs -

“Nope, nope.” he gripped his guitar harder. Just, no.

~

Roxas flipped the channel, gooey oily peanut butter residue stuck to the buttons. She wasn't supposed to even be watching TV, but daddy wouldn’t be home until really late so she didn’t really care. Sometimes Roxas wished she could live with Xander. She had a pretty girlfriend, and cool blue hair. But right now, she just wished her daddy would come home and read her ‘Good Night Moon’ until her green eyes closed with sleep.

~
Gerard slung his canvas bag over his shoulder before making his way inside the old abandoned Railroad tunnel. They had tons of free space on the walls, even though you pretty much needed a damn street light to see down there. He could hear the shuffle of rate usually, or somebody scuttling around. He hadn’t gotten murdered yet - that was a plus.

He was just coming up to a corner turn up to the wall he had been painting when he saw somebody at the very end of the hallway in some kind of gray muted shadow. He stopped walking and watched for awhile. He was used to squatters but they would always have their boxes and stubby candles set out around them to tell other hobos to not-fuck-with-my-space. This person didn’t seem like a hobo.

“Uh...hello?”

Gerard can see the turn of a head, he thinks its a head at least, and the shrill scuff of wood on concrete. They’re getting up now. Gerard feels like he’s intruded on somebodies, like, house or some shit. I mean, nobody really has furniture and that definitely looked like some kind of...something. He hopes its isnt and axe. That would suck. Gerard is too young to die, he determines as the guys shadow stops about six feet from him.

“Hi? The guy says back, not revealing himself. Gerard knows this guy can’t see him, so he just waves and points at the wall.

“You care if, I, uh paint?” he yanks an aerosol can out of his bag, shaking it a bit. The guy shrugs, and starts to walk back to his spot at the end of the hallway. He doesn’t answer so Gerard takes that as some kind of mutual agreement of ‘no’, and starts to shove the can back into his bag when he hears someone clearing their throat.

“Just don’t spray that shit into my face man.”

Notes

IM BACK.
I'm sorry for the very very very very late update.
This story will frequently jump from Roxas, Frank, and Gerard's pov... and maybe Mikey's a few times. Don't worry, plenty off Ray will jump into the mix soon enough.

Good to be back!
(oh and I'm introducing a new character, but I need some help with one! (preferably female and around teenage years)
or a boy is good too.

Thanks lovelies,
XoXo Sage