Through the Centuries (First Anti-Frerard Fanfiction Ever!)
Abuse
(Gerard POV)
Yet another job. Down the drain. I rest my face in my hands. There is a loud sound that makes me shudder when the bartender places the heavenly cup on the mahogany tabletop and glances up at me apologetically.
"Another one." he announces.
I sip at my beer carefully. It's a nice temperature. Not too cold, not too warm. The tender looks at me for a moment. I look back at him. The creases on his face make him look like a grandfather. Basically, he looks like he's got his life together. The complete opposite of me.
Sighing, I look back at my beer and take a rather large swig of it. The tender hums and I hear him go over to serve other drunk guests who've come to drink away the pain.A few moments into my drink, I hear someone sit next to me. The bartender walks over to him and the man orders a shot. I sneak a peek at him. The first thing I notice is a shiny lip ring that is nestled perfectly on plump, pink lips. I swallow and look away when he turns to me. The tender brings him the shot and he takes it. I hear his airy laugh and basically feel his slight shudder. He asks for another one. I sneak another peek. Black hair. It goes down to his shoulders. It looks soft. The man turns again, and I look back down at my drink. I take a long swig. Then, I sneak another peek at the man to find that he's already looking at me. Rather intently, at that. And then, my head takes me for a spin. I swallow and the man frowns.His feet are hanging from the stool.
"You... -kay.... -an....?
My head... My stomach... Not sickness, no.... Someone... Slipped something into my drink!I try to stand. Before I can collapse, someone helps me stand. Then, a voice... I recognize too well.
"Oh dear, Gerard. You drank too much. Thank goodness I found you."
Nononono!
I try to speak. To tell anyone what was happening, but my mouth was too sluggish. I look at the small man. Help me. He's going to take me! Bert and I had broken up a while ago. But he had been obsessed with me. He kept showing up everywhere I was, trying to take me with him. Always something different. He'd clean himself up and try to pass off as a friend, a boyfriend, a neighbor... And now, my fiance. A tear slipped from my eye and the small man stood. He touched my face. I couldn't react.
"Let him go." he said to Bert. I heard Bert laugh lighthearted laugh.
"He's my fiance. I came to get him. It's okay. He's going to be alright. Right, honey?"
Bert squeezes my hand. What... What did he say? I blink and nod slowly. It feels right. The black-haired man jumps down from the stool.
"You drugged him. Now, let him go."
I snap into reality when Bert punches him in the face. Then, he grabs my wrist. I can't scream, so I'm silent as he pulls me out. When outside, he picks me up.
"We're going home, Geebear. You and me."
No....Home was his basement. He'd made it clear that if I ever tried to run from him, he would be forced to lock me up. Bert says I'm erratic and I need him to take care of me. That, in order to keep me from getting hurt, I needed to be fed. And washed. And only taken out under supervision. That at night, he showed me the love I needed. And that it only hurt because I fought against it.
Before he could get me in the car, there was a strong pull. I turned my head to see two men from the bar holding Bert down. The small, black-haired man came out then. His nose was bleeding and he was on the phone. His face was free of all joking matter. Bert wrestled with the guys holding him down and successfully broke free. Before anyone could do anything else, he grabbed me. Great. I was being used as a human shield. DeJaVu....He pulled my hair back and I managed a gasp. Then, I felt something cold against my neck. That's when my adrenaline acted up. My movement was violent... And this made the blade slice into my neck.
"STOP! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!"
Bert's adrenaline must've been high too, because he didn't hear. He pressed the blade further and I spasmed again. It dug deeper. My neck was warm.
"YOU'RE CUTTING HIM!"
I guess Bert noticed then. I felt him pull the blade out and flip me to him.
"G-Gee! T-That's ok-kay... W-We can f-fix you...."
My eyes were wet. Bert was pulled away from me and the arms that replaced him were gentler. I recognized then to be the small man's. He pressed something to my neck. Something about 'stopping the flow of blood'.In a few moments, the red and blue lights were flashing off his face. The paramedics put gauze on my neck. The trip to the hospital was forgettable. Then, they lay me down and, like an old rag doll, fix me up. The cut was deep. When I woke up, the room was quiet and still. A light snore revealed the black-haired man sitting on the uncomfortable-looking chair. Fast asleep. His mouth fell slightly ajar, his hair on his face. It was cute, actually.My fingers reached up to touch my neck. It hurt, but only a little. The I.V. showed that they were pumping me chock-full of anesthetic. So I guess that's why I wasn't.... I wasn't?I swallowed. It hurt. What... Happened? All I can remember is Bert hurting me. Before that? Empty.
“I… c-can’t…”
The other man stirs and I watch him wake up. He looks over at me and smiles.
“Hey.”
I swallow. “Who are you?”
He stands up carefully and presses a blue button at the side of my bed. It makes a soft sound and lights up.
“I’m Frank. It’s okay…. You’re safe. That man is gone.”
Gone? The word spins around my head for a couple of moments. Finally, I realize what this means. This means Bert is going to be locked up again.
A nurse then walks into the room and takes my temperature. She draws some blood, which I am not too happy about. Finally, she asks me what I remember and I tell her. She leaves and I am once again alone with Frank.
“Thank you for saving me.” I murmur. “I thought he was going to get away with it ….”
Frank smiles. It’s warm and nice. “Thank God I noticed. It wasn’t easy to stop admiring your face once I saw it.”
I blush.
“You’re Gerard.” He continues. “Nice to meet you.”
He takes my hand and shakes it. I’m a deep scarlet at this point. We talk until it’s time for him to leave. He then tells me he will be back the next day.
He is back many times after that. When I leave the hospital, we become even greater friends. Then, we start dating. It’s so nice….
Three years later, Bert is let out of prison. I see him when the court has me come over. He looks calmer. More sane…. But I don’t trust that one bit. They put a restraining order on him and send us off. But I don’t feel safe knowing he’s out there….
“Baby….” Frank murmurs into my hair. We’re cuddling on the couch and I won’t stop shivering. “You’re safe. It’s okay.The doors are locked. He won’t get in. There’s no way he can hurt you.”
I’m crying now. Frank simply holds me silently.
That night, the clapping of tree branches on the windows makes me scream. The thunder drives me up the walls. I have an anxiety attack and Frank is forced to call the ambulance.
In an emergency room, I won’t stop heaving. He simply holds my hand and squeezes it tight. It doesn’t help at all. I see him everywhere. He’s the doctor. The nurse. Under my bed and-
It takes tons of therapy and months at the hospital to convince me he wasn’t hiding in my closet. Then, they sent me home. Frank filled the house with flowers and got us a pretty little puppy. He even took a vacation, choosing to stay home and drive me around town. But this only lasted so long. Eventually, he had to go back to work.
I remember that morning. I had fixed the bit of hair that always stuck up on his head. Kissing his lips, we agreed to meet up for dinner at the park. I would prepare a nice picnic.
That’s when it happened.
Frank left.
When I heard a noise downstairs, I barely looked away from my painting. It was probably Lucy. She probably turned something over… yes. Then, a soft noise. Yipping. Barks. Silence. Carefully, I grab my phone and a bottle of pepper spray.
“H-Hello? Frankie?”
I reach the top of the stairs and look down. And I see the devil looking up.
Instantly, all the fear rises. He has a knife. I step back, shivering. My body freezes. Bert chuckles and starts making his way up the steps.
“Hi there, Gerard. Where’s your perfect little husband?”
That snaps me out of it. I scream and run. Bert cusses and I hear him begin to follow.
Running into the bedroom, I slam the door and lock it. Then, I run into the closet and speed dial Frank. It rings and goes into voicemail. I call again. And again. And again. Finally, he picks up. He sounds frazzled.
“Gerard, I’ll call you back okay?”
“FRANKIE PLEASE-”
I’m left talking to the dial tone. The maniac is trying the door. Hitting it. My hands are shaking. Reaching into the shoe box behind the closet, I search for the revolver. The one Frank bought me so I’d feel safe. Not there…. I…. It’s in the cabinet next to the bed. I had switched it!
Standing up with shaky knees, I bolt from the closet just as Bert enters the room. It’s in my hand in two seconds and I’m pointing it at him.
“A little brave one. Are you?”
I’m shaking all over. My legs, my knees, my hands. But the gun is pointed and my finger is on the trigger.
My phone rings. Bert’s eyes dart and I shoot. His shoulder. Again. He reaches for me. His chest. Finally, his head. I witness his skull break and fall back. His hand is outstretched, but it never touches me. Even though he falls, I empty the magazine on a corpse. I’m histerical. Screaming. Crying.
The phone is ringing. But I can’t find it. It’s… under the body.
The body.
I.. killed someone.
(Frank POV)
I call him five times. He doesn’t pick up. I leave work when a neighbor calls me. Gunshots from my house.
I rush home. The front door has been broken into. Lucy is gutted on the living room floor. I go upstairs. The door to our room-
Gerard is on the bed, his knees to his chest and the gun in his hands. He’s gripping it too tightly. Pulling the trigger finger again and away under his jaw. There are no bullets.
My eyes travel to the corpse.
“Gerard?”
His eyes dart to me.
“I killed him.” he tells me. “I shot him, Frankie.”
“Gerard….”
I step towards him and he flinches. Instantly, the gun is pointed at me.
“Stay away.”
“Gerard. I’m here, love.”
I reach out to him.
“STAY AWAY!”
I snatch the gun from his hands and he fights me. Finally, I pin him down on the bed. He’s screaming at me to let him go. I’m trying to calm him down, but he’s not listening at all.
It takes 5 minutes for the police to arrive. I’m guessing the neighbors called them.
Gerard is sobbing when they arrive. I carefully hand him over so they can carry him down to the ambulance. He doesn’t recognize me at all.
He hangs himself with his I.V. in his hospital room. By the time they find him, he’s gone.
Yet another job. Down the drain. I rest my face in my hands. There is a loud sound that makes me shudder when the bartender places the heavenly cup on the mahogany tabletop and glances up at me apologetically.
"Another one." he announces.
I sip at my beer carefully. It's a nice temperature. Not too cold, not too warm. The tender looks at me for a moment. I look back at him. The creases on his face make him look like a grandfather. Basically, he looks like he's got his life together. The complete opposite of me.
Sighing, I look back at my beer and take a rather large swig of it. The tender hums and I hear him go over to serve other drunk guests who've come to drink away the pain.A few moments into my drink, I hear someone sit next to me. The bartender walks over to him and the man orders a shot. I sneak a peek at him. The first thing I notice is a shiny lip ring that is nestled perfectly on plump, pink lips. I swallow and look away when he turns to me. The tender brings him the shot and he takes it. I hear his airy laugh and basically feel his slight shudder. He asks for another one. I sneak another peek. Black hair. It goes down to his shoulders. It looks soft. The man turns again, and I look back down at my drink. I take a long swig. Then, I sneak another peek at the man to find that he's already looking at me. Rather intently, at that. And then, my head takes me for a spin. I swallow and the man frowns.His feet are hanging from the stool.
"You... -kay.... -an....?
My head... My stomach... Not sickness, no.... Someone... Slipped something into my drink!I try to stand. Before I can collapse, someone helps me stand. Then, a voice... I recognize too well.
"Oh dear, Gerard. You drank too much. Thank goodness I found you."
Nononono!
I try to speak. To tell anyone what was happening, but my mouth was too sluggish. I look at the small man. Help me. He's going to take me! Bert and I had broken up a while ago. But he had been obsessed with me. He kept showing up everywhere I was, trying to take me with him. Always something different. He'd clean himself up and try to pass off as a friend, a boyfriend, a neighbor... And now, my fiance. A tear slipped from my eye and the small man stood. He touched my face. I couldn't react.
"Let him go." he said to Bert. I heard Bert laugh lighthearted laugh.
"He's my fiance. I came to get him. It's okay. He's going to be alright. Right, honey?"
Bert squeezes my hand. What... What did he say? I blink and nod slowly. It feels right. The black-haired man jumps down from the stool.
"You drugged him. Now, let him go."
I snap into reality when Bert punches him in the face. Then, he grabs my wrist. I can't scream, so I'm silent as he pulls me out. When outside, he picks me up.
"We're going home, Geebear. You and me."
No....Home was his basement. He'd made it clear that if I ever tried to run from him, he would be forced to lock me up. Bert says I'm erratic and I need him to take care of me. That, in order to keep me from getting hurt, I needed to be fed. And washed. And only taken out under supervision. That at night, he showed me the love I needed. And that it only hurt because I fought against it.
Before he could get me in the car, there was a strong pull. I turned my head to see two men from the bar holding Bert down. The small, black-haired man came out then. His nose was bleeding and he was on the phone. His face was free of all joking matter. Bert wrestled with the guys holding him down and successfully broke free. Before anyone could do anything else, he grabbed me. Great. I was being used as a human shield. DeJaVu....He pulled my hair back and I managed a gasp. Then, I felt something cold against my neck. That's when my adrenaline acted up. My movement was violent... And this made the blade slice into my neck.
"STOP! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!"
Bert's adrenaline must've been high too, because he didn't hear. He pressed the blade further and I spasmed again. It dug deeper. My neck was warm.
"YOU'RE CUTTING HIM!"
I guess Bert noticed then. I felt him pull the blade out and flip me to him.
"G-Gee! T-That's ok-kay... W-We can f-fix you...."
My eyes were wet. Bert was pulled away from me and the arms that replaced him were gentler. I recognized then to be the small man's. He pressed something to my neck. Something about 'stopping the flow of blood'.In a few moments, the red and blue lights were flashing off his face. The paramedics put gauze on my neck. The trip to the hospital was forgettable. Then, they lay me down and, like an old rag doll, fix me up. The cut was deep. When I woke up, the room was quiet and still. A light snore revealed the black-haired man sitting on the uncomfortable-looking chair. Fast asleep. His mouth fell slightly ajar, his hair on his face. It was cute, actually.My fingers reached up to touch my neck. It hurt, but only a little. The I.V. showed that they were pumping me chock-full of anesthetic. So I guess that's why I wasn't.... I wasn't?I swallowed. It hurt. What... Happened? All I can remember is Bert hurting me. Before that? Empty.
“I… c-can’t…”
The other man stirs and I watch him wake up. He looks over at me and smiles.
“Hey.”
I swallow. “Who are you?”
He stands up carefully and presses a blue button at the side of my bed. It makes a soft sound and lights up.
“I’m Frank. It’s okay…. You’re safe. That man is gone.”
Gone? The word spins around my head for a couple of moments. Finally, I realize what this means. This means Bert is going to be locked up again.
A nurse then walks into the room and takes my temperature. She draws some blood, which I am not too happy about. Finally, she asks me what I remember and I tell her. She leaves and I am once again alone with Frank.
“Thank you for saving me.” I murmur. “I thought he was going to get away with it ….”
Frank smiles. It’s warm and nice. “Thank God I noticed. It wasn’t easy to stop admiring your face once I saw it.”
I blush.
“You’re Gerard.” He continues. “Nice to meet you.”
He takes my hand and shakes it. I’m a deep scarlet at this point. We talk until it’s time for him to leave. He then tells me he will be back the next day.
He is back many times after that. When I leave the hospital, we become even greater friends. Then, we start dating. It’s so nice….
Three years later, Bert is let out of prison. I see him when the court has me come over. He looks calmer. More sane…. But I don’t trust that one bit. They put a restraining order on him and send us off. But I don’t feel safe knowing he’s out there….
“Baby….” Frank murmurs into my hair. We’re cuddling on the couch and I won’t stop shivering. “You’re safe. It’s okay.The doors are locked. He won’t get in. There’s no way he can hurt you.”
I’m crying now. Frank simply holds me silently.
That night, the clapping of tree branches on the windows makes me scream. The thunder drives me up the walls. I have an anxiety attack and Frank is forced to call the ambulance.
In an emergency room, I won’t stop heaving. He simply holds my hand and squeezes it tight. It doesn’t help at all. I see him everywhere. He’s the doctor. The nurse. Under my bed and-
It takes tons of therapy and months at the hospital to convince me he wasn’t hiding in my closet. Then, they sent me home. Frank filled the house with flowers and got us a pretty little puppy. He even took a vacation, choosing to stay home and drive me around town. But this only lasted so long. Eventually, he had to go back to work.
I remember that morning. I had fixed the bit of hair that always stuck up on his head. Kissing his lips, we agreed to meet up for dinner at the park. I would prepare a nice picnic.
That’s when it happened.
Frank left.
When I heard a noise downstairs, I barely looked away from my painting. It was probably Lucy. She probably turned something over… yes. Then, a soft noise. Yipping. Barks. Silence. Carefully, I grab my phone and a bottle of pepper spray.
“H-Hello? Frankie?”
I reach the top of the stairs and look down. And I see the devil looking up.
Instantly, all the fear rises. He has a knife. I step back, shivering. My body freezes. Bert chuckles and starts making his way up the steps.
“Hi there, Gerard. Where’s your perfect little husband?”
That snaps me out of it. I scream and run. Bert cusses and I hear him begin to follow.
Running into the bedroom, I slam the door and lock it. Then, I run into the closet and speed dial Frank. It rings and goes into voicemail. I call again. And again. And again. Finally, he picks up. He sounds frazzled.
“Gerard, I’ll call you back okay?”
“FRANKIE PLEASE-”
I’m left talking to the dial tone. The maniac is trying the door. Hitting it. My hands are shaking. Reaching into the shoe box behind the closet, I search for the revolver. The one Frank bought me so I’d feel safe. Not there…. I…. It’s in the cabinet next to the bed. I had switched it!
Standing up with shaky knees, I bolt from the closet just as Bert enters the room. It’s in my hand in two seconds and I’m pointing it at him.
“A little brave one. Are you?”
I’m shaking all over. My legs, my knees, my hands. But the gun is pointed and my finger is on the trigger.
My phone rings. Bert’s eyes dart and I shoot. His shoulder. Again. He reaches for me. His chest. Finally, his head. I witness his skull break and fall back. His hand is outstretched, but it never touches me. Even though he falls, I empty the magazine on a corpse. I’m histerical. Screaming. Crying.
The phone is ringing. But I can’t find it. It’s… under the body.
The body.
I.. killed someone.
(Frank POV)
I call him five times. He doesn’t pick up. I leave work when a neighbor calls me. Gunshots from my house.
I rush home. The front door has been broken into. Lucy is gutted on the living room floor. I go upstairs. The door to our room-
Gerard is on the bed, his knees to his chest and the gun in his hands. He’s gripping it too tightly. Pulling the trigger finger again and away under his jaw. There are no bullets.
My eyes travel to the corpse.
“Gerard?”
His eyes dart to me.
“I killed him.” he tells me. “I shot him, Frankie.”
“Gerard….”
I step towards him and he flinches. Instantly, the gun is pointed at me.
“Stay away.”
“Gerard. I’m here, love.”
I reach out to him.
“STAY AWAY!”
I snatch the gun from his hands and he fights me. Finally, I pin him down on the bed. He’s screaming at me to let him go. I’m trying to calm him down, but he’s not listening at all.
It takes 5 minutes for the police to arrive. I’m guessing the neighbors called them.
Gerard is sobbing when they arrive. I carefully hand him over so they can carry him down to the ambulance. He doesn’t recognize me at all.
He hangs himself with his I.V. in his hospital room. By the time they find him, he’s gone.
this is really good, sad, but good.
1/22/17