Through the Centuries (First Anti-Frerard Fanfiction Ever!)
Does remembering make it better? (PART 2 OF 3)
Part II
Gerard POV
I carry him on my back and Mikey follows us. Besides the boy, we had found a small, wooden trunk and a beautiful hand mirror. Mikey keeps bombarding me with questions; ‘Do you think he’s a lost prince like in the stories?’ ‘Do you think the mirror is magic?’ ‘Maybe they’ll be gold in the bo. If there is, do you think he’ll reward us for saving his life with it?’
But the one question he hasn’t asked; the one that makes me the most curious: ‘How did he know your name?’
I don’t answer any of his questions on the way home. I can’t speak at all, actually. I can smell our mother cooking the chicken for dinner. The wood box is half full and father is nowhere to be seen. They mustn't be back yet. I call for mother and she steps out, smiling. Her eyes lower to Mikey’s knee and she looks worried. Then, her eyes go to the boy on my back and her whole face drains of color completely.
“The storm.” I say.
She nods and ushers us inside. We strip the boy of his wet clothes and mother tends to his small wounds. Then, we dress him in some of my clothes; cotton pants and shirt. The trousers fit fine, but the jumper is a tad too big on him. We then place him on my bed and cover him with the heavy quilts. Even in his sleep, he’s shivering very badly. After a few moments of being under the blanket, I see his lips stop twitching and instead curl into a soft smile. Mother touches his forehead and he sighs gently.
“He has a fever. Gerard, dear. Please fetch a wet rag.”
I run over to the kitchen and get the rag mother uses when ur boys get sick. I wet it and then squeeze out the excess water.Then, I take it back.
He’s awake.
I hide my the door frame and watch him squeeze mother’s arm.
“Where is Gerard? I need to see him… Please! I’ve been searching for so long!”
He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a necklace with a small, silver key.
“My box.” He tells my mother. “Did you grab it? My b-box!”
I step into the room and hand the rag to mother. She forces the boy to lie down and places it on his forehead.
“Gerard!” the boy tries to sit up again. Mother holds him down. “Gerard. Get my box. You have it. I know you do!”
I blink and step back. “H-How do you know me?”
Mother frowns slightly and then smiles. “He has a fever honey, He’s delirious.”
I start to leave the room, but then he sits up again.
“Your name is Gerard Way. Your brother calls you Gee-Bear.”
I pause. “Anyone could know that.”
“You’re 17 years old and you live here with your parents. You love art, but your parents think you’ll do better at something else. You want to make comic books and music that other people will love.”
“What else?” I ask softly.
“It’s different every time.”
Every time? I blink and a shiver runs down my spine. Maybe… the box will answer all of this. I go up to the boy and hold out my hand.
“Give me the key and I’ll get you your box.”
He immediately unclasps his necklace. Looking closer, I can see there’s a design on it. A G… inside a heart. I step out of the room to see Mikey smiling wide. Too wide.
“Wanna go play?” he giggles. Mother patched up his knee already.
“The box.” I tell him.
He frowns. “What box, Gee?”
“The one we found next to the kid. Where did you put the box, Mikey?”
I watch him carefully. He sticks his thumb in his mouth and moves his shoulders up and down.
“You have to remember!” I wail.
“DON’T YELL AT ME!” He screams back.
I pause. Mikey has never raised his voice at me. Never ever.
“EVERYTHING WAS GOING PERFECT!” He shouted again, pulling his thumb out of his mouth. His face acquired a look that made him look older. He lowers his voice. “Everything was perfect, Gee. We were happy. Every time Frank shows up, I lose you!”
“Every… time….”
Every time. Every time. Every time. Every time. Every… time…. Time. TIME.
“Where’s the box, Mikey.”
“Gerard, Please…” I could see tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t wanna lose you-”
“What’s going to happen?!”
“YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!”
Silence. Mikey fell on his knees, sobbing in a way that made my heart ache.
“YOU'RE GOING TO DIE AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’LL DO WITHOUT YOU!”
“What does that have to do with the box? Mikey, please. Tell me… please….”
Silence. Sobbing. I’m about to regret everything when he speaks up.
“It’s underneath father’s chair.” His voice is empty. I ignore it and go over to the living room. Under father’s chair, I find the beautifully engraved box. Now I see it. The designs… they’re MY designs.
I’m about to turn the lock when mother speaks.
“Gerard, honey?”
I turn the key and the lock makes a soft sound. Silence. I can feel three pairs of eyes on my back. I know father is home.
So I open the box.
The first thing I see is a picture. A man…. His smile is very familiar…. Me. But I’m older. My eyes are lovingly fixed on the person holding the camera. Next picture. Me again. This time, I’m holding another man. I’m slipping a ring into his finger. There are tears running down my face. The next picture is older. Black and white. Me and the man again. I’m holding him close and he’s kissing my cheek. My eyes are shut and I look like I’m in bliss. More pictures. In each one, we’re together or separate. In every one, it’s clear the other one is taking it. When it’s the other man, his eyes pierce into the camera; a feeling so deep I can’t describe. A small painting. It’s a flower field and I recognize the strokes. They’re my own personal style. In the back; To Frank. The love of this life and many more to come.
Then, at the bottom of the box, a golden ring.
In all of the pictures we’re together. In all of the pictures, we are terribly in love. Me and that man. Me and… and the boy currently on my bed. Frank. Frank.
“Gerard?” It’s the boy talking now. It’s Frank talking.
this is really good, sad, but good.
1/22/17