Life is but a Dream for the Dead

Gerard was bored. Completely and utterly bored out of his head. So bored, he’d resorted to scratching cliché little tallies into the wall next to his bunk. Frank just observed him carefully. He was pretty sure it was the process of going insane. “I’d ask if you’re OK, but you’re clearly losing your mind,” Frank sighed, glancing up from his book at Gerard, who was simply staring at the ceiling. “I don’t understand how people do this,” Gerard muttered, his voice hoarse and scratchy. “How can they just sit in a cell all fucking day with nothing to do but lie here?” Frank bit his lip. “What would you normally do if you weren’t in prison?” Gerard sighed heavily and dramatically. “Sex. Drugs. Work.” “Right,” Frank replied dryly, sounding disgusted and uninterested. “Sounds great.” “It [i]is[/i],” Gerard snapped. “Jesus, I didn’t realise how good my life outside of prison was. What about you?” Frank placed his book down, dog-earring the page and rubbing his hands tiredly across his face. “My life inside of prison is better.” Gerard immediately laughed at this. “That’s fucking bullshit. Anything is better than being locked up in here Frank.” “It’s not,” Frank said through gritted teeth. “Sorry to break it to you Gerard, but spoilt-rich boys like you don’t get how winding up in here can be a fucking blessing sometimes.” Gerard slowly turned his head to look at Frank, and looked at him. Looked at him really, really, hard. He saw something different in Frank after that statement. He saw it in his eyes. He saw the fading, dim light in his eyes, the tiredness that was sunken into his skin and his body. He saw how Frank was completely ripped up and tattered, flimsily hanging together, just. “What happened to you Frank,” Gerard said softly. He didn’t say it like a question, just a small, unimportant comment. Frank’s eyes that had been so open and readable suddenly closed up, the brick wall built back up again and he became his usual defensive self. “What happens to everyone. I was a stupid kid with big dreams who realised that you’ll never get anywhere in life and you’ll only ever be at the bottom of the heap.[i]Life[/i] happened to me Gerard.” Gerard watched Frank’s eyes begin to glimmer, tears welling up. “Frank...” “What.” “Why can’t you just tell me? Someone hurt you, I can see that. Anyone can,” Gerard told him gently. “Why do you care Gerard? What the fuck do you care about anything apart from yourself?!” Frank spat, getting up and throwing his book to the floor. “I was trying to help you!” “It’s none of your fucking business!” “Maybe it would help if for once you just opened up and told somebody, instead of getting defensive and-” “You don’t even fucking [i]know[/i] me! Who the fuck do you think you are Way? You’re not my fucking therapist! You’re nothing but another murderous piece of scum, like every other sick freak that wound up here! So don’t tell me to open up when you don’t know shit about me! [i]You[/i] don’t care and you know what? [i]I[/i] don’t even care anymore. So just stop trying, OK? I don’t want your help!” Frank then stormed for the door, throwing it open and slamming it shut, leaving Gerard alone in the cell. ********************************* Frank stormed over to Callum as soon as he spotted him. He was still sat with his ‘friends’ at one of the tables in the canteen. He looked up briefly and looked down again, stopping and then looking up again when he saw Frank making his way towards him. Callum smirked. Frank always came to him when he was pissed off about anything. Frank always came to him looking for sex, drugs, anything when he got angry, which was very rarely. Callum tossed down his cards and got up as Frank got closer, leaving the game of poker which he’d been losing anyway. The others looked up at him in confusion but then they saw Callum’s tiny, heavily inked bitch and rolled their eyes, returning to their game. Callum was shocked a little when Frank basically grabbed him and tried to force their mouths together, but soon regained control of the situation. Frank whined in his ear, desperate, Callum wasn’t giving him anything until they were back in Frank’s cell. He didn’t let his bitch misbehave in front of the other inmates. He had a reputation to keep. He couldn’t have them all think he was letting his bitch slip out of line. People know not to mess with you if you had the entire prison in the palm of your hand and your bitch at your beck and call. Frank’s eyes grew wide and he resisted against Callum when he saw he’d brought them back to Frank’s cell. “Cal, no, my cell mate’s in there,” Frank hissed, tugging on the grip Callum had on his wrist. “I thought we were going back to your cell.” Callum rolled his eyes. “Well then, they can leave, can’t they?” Gerard looked up at them with a raised eyebrow once they were inside, one of Frank’s precious books in his lap. “[i]You[/i]?” Callum spat. “This is [i]your[/i] cell?” Gerard looked him up and down, a disgusted expression on his face. “No. I just randomly sit in here all day with Frank and then go back to my own cell. Of course it’s my fucking cell.” Callum’s eyes darkened. “Think you’re so fucking clever and witty, don’t you Way?” Gerard shrugged. “I don’t think I am. I know I am.” Callum’s lip curled. “Later, Way, later. We’ll do this after I’ve fucked my bitch.” “Have fun with that,” Gerard muttered, trying to hide the jealously and protectiveness in his voice. He shuddered at the thought of Frank and Callum, wanting to just snatch Frank out of Callum’s grip and keep him all to himself. He was like a child who got jealous of another kid who had a better toy than him. “That was a hint for you to leave,” Callum told him flatly. “I’m not going anywhere. Go and fuck with your bitch somewhere else. You might wanna try an alleyway somewhere, I hear he likes sucking dick on his knees behind clubs.” Frank paled, all colour draining from his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?!” Gerard looked at him. “I never had you down as a hooker Frank. Guess I was wrong. Although, now I think about it, it would make sense. You were so fucking easy the other day in the showers.” “What’s he talking about Frank?” Callum asked, venom laced through his words as he glared at Frank. Frank swallowed, glowering at Gerard, who just smirked. “Nothing. He’s just making it up Cal.” “Oh, did you not know?” Gerard asked, smiling widely. “Frank’s been a cheap hooker his whole life.”
“I don’t care about [i]that[/i],” Callum snarled. “What happened between you two? Have you been fucking around with [b]my[/b] bitch Way?” “I suppose you could say that,” Gerard answered, his voice becoming careful and guarded. “Oh yeah?” Callum hissed, squaring up to Gerard, who was only a few inches taller than him. “I don’t care who you are or what anyone else says about you. Mess with my bitch and you’ll regret it. He’s [i]mine[/i], always has been and always will be. If I find out you’ve been-” “Cal, please,” Frank pleaded, quietly in his ear, clutching his hand. “It doesn’t matter. He’s making it up, I swear. Nothing happened between us.” “Did I fucking ask you, you piece of shit?!” Callum threatened him. “I don’t care what either of you say, you’re still in the shit for this Frank.” Frank whimpered and Gerard’s heart tugged at this a little bit and he began to feel bad about dropping Frank right in it, but he was still pissed off at Frank for thinking he could go insult him the way he did and get away with. Frank may have stung him, but Gerard always stung back harder. “I’ll finish this later,” Callum muttered towards Gerard. “I’m not forgetting about this Way. You’ll be sorry you ever messed with me, you hear?” Gerard just smiled pleasantly, ever the polite, courteous well mannered young man he was. “Of course Callum.”
Callum just looked at him in disgust, lip curled up and eyebrows drawn down into a frown before turning to Frank and grabbing a fistful of his hair and dragging him towards the door. “Gerard! Gerard, you fucking evil [i]bastard[/i], how could you?!” Frank yelled as he struggled and kicked against Callum. “Shut your mouth whore,” Callum snarled, striking Frank across the face.
“Callum, God, please,” Frank whimpered, scrabbling his hands uselessly against Callum’s fist that gripped his hair in a painfully tight vice. “Nothing happened baby, please, c’mon Cal, don’t do this-” “Brooks? What are you doing? This isn’t your cell.” Callum immediately dropped Frank and turned round to face the same greasy guard who’d visited Gerard a few days ago.
“I was just leaving,” Callum spat at him, shoving Frank to floor and leaving their cell. The guard just glared in at Frank and Gerard before swinging the door shut and locking it. Wonderful, Frank thought. Now he was locked in with this complete asshole.
Frank didn’t bother getting up from the floor. He just slumped down completely and lay out flat on his back, bringing his hands over his face and cursing softly. Gerard observed him with an unimpressed face, eyebrow raised and upper lip curled up. “Are you fucking stupid?” Frank whispered hoarsely from behind his hands. “Do you actually not have a fucking brain?!” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gerard replied icily. Frank sat up then and shook his head at Gerard in disbelief. “Do you know what he would’ve done to me if that guard hadn’t interrupted? Do you? Because I don’t think you get how much shit you just dropped me in Gerard.” “It’s none of my business what you and Callum get up to,” Gerard sniffed. “Oh, but it’s OK for you to just go and tell him about what you made me do?!”
“Just thought I’d mention it.”
Frank sort of lost it then, because Gerard pissed him off like no one else ever had. Perhaps he wasn’t really thinking straight when he flew at the pale, raven haired man and attempted to knock him out cold, but Frank was angry. He’d very narrowly just escaped Callum, and it was Gerard’s fault this had all happened anyway. Frank didn’t really get much time to think before he was pinned down flat on his back, arms twisted painfully behind him in a steel grip and his head being yanked up painfully by Gerard grabbing a fistful of his hair. Gerard had him trapped on the floor beneath him, and despite Frank’s best efforts to throw him off, Gerard was unmovable.
“Now Frankie,” Gerard hissed venomously in his ear, “I think Callum might’ve been right when he said you needed to learn a little respect. You just don’t know when to stop, do you?”
Frank didn’t answer, just twisted his head round and spat at Gerard, a glob of saliva hitting him on the cheek. Gerard’s eyes darkened and his face became expressionless. Frank immediately regretted it, because Gerard looked... he hated to admit it, but he’d looked exactly the same as Ethan had. His eyes and his face were the same. Dark, murderous eyes with not a single emotion portrayed on their face. Just the still surface of a raging sea beneath the mask. Frank felt his heart stutter and swallowed. “I tried to tell you Frank. I did. But you didn’t listen so now I’m going to have to make you pay for it,” Gerard told him. His voice was empty and flat and it terrified Frank. Before Frank could do anything, before he could even take his next [i]breath[/i], Gerard had his face pressed into the cold, concrete floor and his pants around his ankles. Oh God. God no, no, not this, not- Frank had to stifle a small scream in his throat as Gerard pushed into him without warning. Frank’s heart thudded heavily in his ears, the blood drumming through him rapidly. Above him, Gerard was groaning and clawing at Frank’s hips.
[i]Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry Frank. Don’t let him see you cry.[/i]
Frank shuddered and whimpered in pain as Gerard ploughed into him from behind, gasping and moaning. Frank was expecting a string of slurred insults and threats to reach his ears, but Gerard said nothing. He just carried on fucking into Frank desperately, getting swallowed up in the deep, tight heat of Frank. He swore and panted, gripping Frank’s tiny, fragile, bruised body like a doll and dragging him back and forth on his dick, not stopping and not caring. Only, for the first time in his life, the smallest, quietest, most insignificant voice was whispering to him in the back of his head [i]Stop[/i]. Gerard thought it might have been his conscience, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t really have one after all the bad things he’d done in his life. [i]Stop hurting him. Stop doing this to him you heartless piece of shit. Stop it Gerard.[/i] Gerard ignored the voice and tried to block out Frank’s muffled sobs and cries, tried to ignore the voice that was steadily getting louder. He wasn’t feeling the high of the sick power that normally coursed through his veins. Whenever he was putting people in their place, working on the job, doing what he [i]enjoyed[/i] – he always felt fantastic.
But now, as he carried on thrusting into Frank, he felt nothing but horror at what he was doing. Nothing but horror and regret. The voice was screaming at him now. [i]Can’t you see how much you’re hurting him?![/i] Frank’s whole body felt as if it was on fire, but he just tried to focus on anything but the pain. He stared with watery, pained eyes at the dust that had gathered under the bottom bunk bed, focusing on that, on anything but this.
Gerard suddenly gasped above him, his breath catching and his hips stuttering forwards as he came.
Frank whimpered as he pulled away from Frank, his body sagging to the floor with a soft thud and lying there motionless. Gerard crawled away from him, disgusted at himself for the very first time in his life. He looked at Frank and saw what he’d done. Frank simply lay there, struggled to breathe through the pain, telling himself it was OK. Callum had hurt him much worse than this before. Hell, even some of the guys who had paid to fuck him before he came to jail had hurt him worse than this. This was nothing. Just lie still for a few hours and it’ll stop. Doesn’t matter who sees what a mess you are, lying the floor, blood and come dripping down his legs and your pants round your calves.
Doesn’t matter. Just try and breathe. Gerard felt sick. He felt like he was actually going to throw up. But he didn’t, he just retreated to his bunk, staring at Frank and how limp and motionless he was, staring at his glazed over eyes, tears still trickling down his pale cheek. Frank’s eyes didn’t close. They stayed open but remained heavy lidded and glassy, transfixed on the wall in front of him as he winced with each breath and remained still. Gerard, for the very first time in his life, felt [i]guilty[/i].

Notes