Before The Sun Goes Down

Today was the last day the pair were in London.
They had to leave for the airport at around mid-day to get there in time for their flight home, so they decided to not plan anything big, and just see what they could do around the centre on London for the day.
They set out early, after showering together and trying to leave before one of the old couples staying in the hotel went down to breakfast, which was normally around fifteen minutes before the sun rose. Gerard and Frank have been caught by them a few times when they walk out of their room, and the couple stand and talk to them for ages before remembering where they were going, making Frank and Gerard almost bored to tears.
So they try to get out before them or after them, and today they want to get the most out of their half a day still left in the city, so they get outside as early as possible without being deemed suspicious.
They walk outside, feeling the crisp morning air hit their faces. They automatically join hands while they walk.
“I was thinking, do you want to go and look around Camden Market for a few hours? It opens at nine thirty, so we have a while to look around here, and then we could get a cab.” Frank suggest, making Gerard nod.
“That'd be cool, yeah. Where do you want to go now, though?” Frank shrug, looking around for inspiration.
“Perhaps we should go and see Buckingham Palace again, because this time there won't be many people crowding around it.”
“Yeah, okay. We'll walk there, to kill the time.”
They walk to the Palace, stopping occasionally to look at different things, like obscure shops.
“Have you got any spare change? Anything?” A man holds out his hat to passers-by, catching Frank's eye over and over again. The man places down his hat on the floor, pulling his grimy clothes closer to him. He looks like he hasn't washed in weeks, and his cheekbones are dangerously hollow.
“Gerard, can I have some money?” Gerard glances at Frank, who has stopped and keeps glancing at the other side of the street. Gerard's eyes flick over there, catching sight of the man.
“Of course,” Gerard says, pulling out all the money he has in his pocket, save for one twenty pound note.
He gives the to Frank, who smiles back at him, and then runs across the street and silently hands the man the money.
“But, sir, this is too much, I... can't take it.” Frank shakes his head, a small, happy smile on his face.
“Please, take it. Buy some food, clothes. I wouldn't be able to know that you had to spend another night on the streets without at least some money.” The man looks up at Frank, with tears in his eyes.
He clasps Frank's hand, whispering thank you over and over to Frank, his voice shaking.
“Have a nice day, sir, and thank you... so much,” The man wipes his eyes as he talks, holding the notes tight in his hand.
Frank smiles at him, nodding his head. He runs back across to Gerard, linking hands with him.
“How much was there?” Frank asks.
“Around three hundred pounds.” Gerard shrugs, knowing that he can make plenty more and would have liked to have given even more money to him.
“Wow, that should get him things to eat for at least a couple of days. If he's clever, he should be able to find somewhere to stay for the night and get himself cleaned up.” Gerard nods, holding Frank's hand tighter.
“Yeah, he should. I wish I had more on me, but it takes a while to make the money.”
“I know, Gerard.”
They walk around the area near Buckingham Palace after visiting it and looking at it for a while. Soon enough, it's almost nine o'clock, so Gerard hails a cab and they get driven to Camden Market, which is reasonably near to London Zoo.
The market is almost near it's opening time when they get there, so they just sit and wait for a while and talk on a bench near it.
“Have you enjoyed the trip?” Gerard asks Frank, making Frank snap out of his daydream and look at Gerard.
“Of course I have. It's been awesome.” Gerard nods in agreement, playing with Frank's fingers.
“I kind of don't want to go home, but at the same time I do.”
“Yeah, I know how you feel. We can come back one day, though. Perhaps buy a house here or something.” Frank shrugs as he says this.
“Hm, that's something to think about, actually,” Frank smiles, looking at his and Gerard's hands.
“Is it open yet?” He asks, making Gerard pull out his phone.
“Sure is,” He stands up, pulling Frank up with him. “Come on, let's have a look around.”
They look around the market, not really looking to buy anything but more interested in just being surrounded by people and acting like a normal couple. They don't admit it to each other, but the time spent walking around there is the most normal both of them have felt in ages.
But, they soon have to go back to the hotel, to get their luggage and travel home.
They don't really talk on the way to the airport, Frank and Gerard just sit and contemplate things, and how they felt during the trip. They felt happy, that was the primary emotion. Normal was another. If that can even be classed as emotion, because being and feeling normal is something so many people take for granted, that they don't even realize that you can feel differently.
They go through the normal procedures in the airport, like having the baggage scanned, and then they have to wait for a while until their flight is called, because it has been delayed by fifteen minutes.
They wait, Gerard growing uneasy and more apprehensive by the second. Their flight is finally called, so they make their way to the plane, Gerard holding Frank's hand so tight Frank feels a bone come out of place. It doesn't really hurt him, so he doesn't mention anything, because he knows Gerard needs something to hold onto.
When they're all sat on the plane, Gerard finally lets go of Frank's hand, making a jolt of pain go up Frank's arm.
“Ah, shit,” Frank cringes, the pain settling in his hand now that Gerard has let go.
“Wuh-what's wrong?” Gerard asks, biting his lip.
“You just held my hand a little too tight, is all,” Frank finds the bad bone and pops it back into place.
Gerard hears the noise, guilt jarring him.
“Shit, I hurt you, didn't I? What did I do? I'm so sorry, baby,”
Frank waves him off, too busy dealing with his hand for a second to talk to Gerard. He flexes his fingers, the bone healing itself and the pain dulling.
“It's nothing, see?” Frank waves his hand in Gerard's face, flexing his fingers to show Gerard that it's okay.
“Are you sure? I heard a real bad noise, Frank. Did I pop a bone out of place or something?” The look on Frank's face confirms it. “Oh, my God, I'm so sorry,” Even though Frank feels fine, his hands won't stop shaking.
Flashbacks of Miles run though his mind, tormenting him until he feels dizzy.
“Gerard, just shut up. I'm fine,” Frank speaks harsher than he intended, but he can't stop picturing Miles in his head, slapping him and hurting him.
Frank closes his eyes, breathing in and out calmly as possible. Breathing always seems to help him when things like this happen.
Gerard can see that something isn't right with Frank, but he knows that Frank can barely hear him speak, so he just runs his hand through Frank's hair until he's calm. It takes a while, and Gerard barely even notices the plane take off.
Frank eventually stops breathing, sounds slowly coming back to him. He feels a hand in his hair and panics, keeping his eyes closed but tensing up. Gerard notices this and gets as far away from Frank as possible, so none of him is touching Frank.
Slowly, his eyes open. Frank's teeth capture his bottom lip and he clenches his fists, looking at his shaking hands.
“Frank, are you okay?” Frank jumps at his voice, the voice changing into Miles' for a second before returning to normal.
His teeth puncture his lip, leaving two holes in it without any blood. He hasn't fed in a while.
“Frank, it's just me, Gerard, it's okay,” They've only been through this a few times in the time they've spent together after Gerard rescued Frank. Frank, by himself, has had to calm himself down and get himself back to normal more than just a few times, but he hasn't mentioned it to Gerard.
Frank nods, looking down at his fists still. The steady shaking of them is calming.
“I know, I know,” His voice shakes, it being quiet and low.
“Where are we, Frank?”
Frank starts to feel the two holes in his lip close up. He can't remember where they are.
“I... I don't know, Gerard. I can't remember,” He starts to panic again, and Gerard can sense it.
“Okay, that's okay. Where have we been?” Frank thinks.
“England? We've been to England?” He pauses, licking his lips. “We're on a plane, aren't we?”
“Yes, we are. We're heading home, Frank.” Frank nods, the though of going back to America coincides with the thought of Miles.
Frank starts breathing again, in and out in a steady pace.
“I... I don't want to go back,” His voice breaks, his eyes closing. “I really don't want to go back, Gerard. Puh-please...” He doesn't finish talking, his voice shaking on that word so much that he knows he won't be able to finish it.
Unintentionally, he starts sending picture of Miles and him to Gerard, Gerard's mind filling with the same pain and sorrow Frank has for a minute. Gerard's eyes close, too, his face screwed up and his body tense.
He can't seem to even stutter a word out, so he stays silent throughout the bombardment of images. Some of them, Gerard though, shouldn't even be there.
Frank shouldn't remember some of the stuff he does, because Gerard took some of his memories when Frank was turning.
When Frank's images peter out, Gerard finally relaxes, but the images continue to flutter around in his mind. Gerard pushes them away, instead focusing on Frank.
Frank is curled up, his head buried in his knees. He rocks back and forth, muttering things under his breath. Gerard doesn't know what to do, Frank hasn't been this bad for a while. Not while he was with Gerard, anyway.
“F... Frank?” Frank flinches, his arms circling around his knees even tighter than before.
“Frank, baby, you have to snap out of this. We're on a plane, Frank. Just look at me, please,” Frank's head shakes. “Frank, come on. I hate to be harsh on you, but there are people crawling around all over this place, and if someone sees you like that, they're going to ask questions. You don't want that, do you?”
It takes a few more minutes of gentler convincing before Frank's head lifts up, his eyes pained and dull. His legs stay bent up and tense, but he turns to the other side and rests his head against the window, staying silent for the rest of the trip, stuck in that position.
Gerard feels extreme guilt, knowing that this time this was all his fault. Frank was doing fine and he was completely happy until Gerard popped his finger out of place.
Every time Gerard shifts in place, Frank jumps. So, Gerard just tries to stay in the same place throughout the whole seven hour journey. It isn't too difficult, because he's stayed in the same place for days on end without so much as blinking.
Finally, the seatbelt sign pops up, and they get told that there's only thirty minutes left of the trip. Neither of the had took their seatbelts off, so neither of them pay much attention to the sign. Frank still doesn't move as they make their descent, but Gerard has to grip on the arm rest and grit his teeth. He looks straight ahead, his eyes closed and his mind elsewhere.
They land, Frank moving mechanically off the aeroplane and to collect their luggage. Gerard checks his pockets, making sure his car keys were in them. He grabs his bag, following Frank through the airport. Frank doesn't look at anyone as he walks, instead running off autopilot.
He makes himself small enough that people barely notice him and he doesn't really get bumped into. His shoulders remain hunched and tense as they drive back to their house.
Gerard gets out of the car after parking it in their driveway, and grabs both of their suitcases out of the trunk, while Frank just sits in the car, staring straight ahead. Gerard doesn't realize, so he goes indoors and shoves their bags in their room, opting to unpack and wash the dirty clothes later.
He grows uncomfortable in the silence of the house, thinking that Frank is just sat in the lounge, so he tries to make an excuse to go out or something.
“Okay... so I'll check the car for anything I missed, and then I'll... I'll... go and get some more blood, because I don't think Frank can really go hunting like that, and I don't want to leave him by himself for too long...” He stops talking, simultaneously stopping the pacing he wasn't realizing that he was doing. He looks down at himself, at his shaking legs, and sighs.
“Okay, let's go,” He walks down the stairs, grabbing his keys off the side.
He unlocks the car through the window before checking the fridge for how much blood they have left.
Not much, so I'll have to get more...
He pops his head around the doorway to the lounge, expecting to see Frank. His eyebrows furrow when he sees that Frank isn't there. He moves his head to the other side, checking all of the room. The drawn curtains keep the fast-fading light out, so he moves and opens them.
The house feels better to be in with some light shining through.
“Frank?” Gerard calls out, walking back into the kitchen. No reply.
Walking outside, he notices Frank still sat in the car. Tapping the window, Frank jumps, terror on his face. He calms down a little when he sees that it's only Gerard, and opens the window.
“What are you doing sat out here?” Frank goes back to looking ahead, and shrugs. When he talks, his mouth barely moves.
“I don't know,” Gerard stares at him, concern emanating out of him.
“Why don't you come on inside?” Frank doesn't answer. “Frank?” He says a bit louder, making Frank's head snap to him. “Why don't you come on inside?” He repeats, opening the car door.
Climbing out, Frank ignores Gerard and goes straight inside. Gerard stares after him, biting his lip.
Deciding to just leave Frank alone for awhile, Gerard gets inside the car, going to pick up some more blood.
He drives to a blood bank, which is kept near the hospital and vet's in case they ever run out of blood. He goes inside, locking the car over his shoulder. His switches his powers ion, getting ready to control someone into getting the blood for him.
He messes with the electronics in the CCTV camera, making it point to the furthest point away from the front desk and him. He rests his elbows on the desk, waiting for someone to come out.
Someone should always be near, in case of an emergency.
Getting impatient, he coughs. Someone pops their head out of a side room, with a smile on their face.
“How can I help you?” He smiles, coming closer to Gerard.
Gerard stares in the man's eyes, making them dull.
“I need some blood. Animal blood, and a lot of it, please,” The man nods, completely complacent. Images of Miles controlling Frank flicker through his mind, making disgust stab through him.
Gerard closes his eyes and rests his head in his hand while the man is gone, completely disgusted at himself.
I'm just like Miles. I'm controlling people, I've hurt Frank... Fuck.
Gerard twirls some hair in his fingers, slowly adding pressure to it, pulling the strands out. The fall gently to the floor, some landing on the desk. He brushes them off, moving the strands further towards the desk.
He feels slightly better, more ready to face Frank.
The guy brings the blood out, the blood bags almost spilling out of his grip.
“Ah, shit,” He'd forgotten to ask for a bag. “Can I have them in a bag, please,” Gerard doesn't know why he's saying please to him, perhaps it's to lessen the guilt and disgust towards himself.
The man breaks their eye contact by bending down and placing the blood bags on the floor before pulling out a trash bag. He places them all in there, quickly and efficiently. When he's done, he hands the bag to Gerard, who smiles and leaves the building.
Around five minutes later, the mind-control would wear off the man, and he'd be left disorientated and confused. Gerard hated that it left that effect on people, but he had to get him and Frank some blood.
Pulling up at their house, he can see Frank through the kitchen window, sitting on the kitchen counter. He's holding something in his hands, making Gerard panic and become pretty mad.
The drugs, again? Seriously?
He watches Frank through the window for a minute before opening the car door and getting out. He tries to calm himself down, so he doesn't do anything he regrets, and the walks into the house, slamming the front door behind him, making sure Frank knows he's here.
He hears rustling in the kitchen, so he pushes the door open and stand in the doorway. He stares at Frank, who is, in fact, holding the baggy of coke.
But, he hasn't taken anything.
And Gerard doesn't know that, nor will he really believe Frank.
“What the fuck are you doing, Frank?” Gerard demands, quietly but demandingly.
“I haven't taken anything, Gerard.” Frank already knows what Gerard is presuming.
“Oh, really? Do you really expect me to believe that bullshit?” Frank sighs, nodding.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, I don't. I know you, Frank.” Frank sets down the cocaine beside him, rolling his eyes.
“No, you don't, Gerard. You really fucking don't.” Gerard raises an eyebrow, shaking his head.
“I think I know you well enough by now, Frank.”
“So you don't believe me? You don't fucking believe me, even when I look you in the fucking eyes and say it?” Gerard shakes his head, crossing his arms.
“I sure fucking don't.”
Frank starts to get mad at Gerard, but he doesn't want it to end in a huge fight again.
“What do you want me to do?” Gerard shrugs, making Frank groan. “I didn't take any of that fucking shit, Gerard! Look at my fucking pupils! See how I'm behaving! Do I look like I've just done a few lines of coke?” Frank throws his arms out at his sides, staring Gerard right in the eyes.
“How am I supposed to know? For all I know the fucking high could have worn off! We're fucking vampires, Frank. Drugs don't effect us in the same fucking ways!”
“Oh, my God,” Frank groans. “Listen to yourself! Can you hear the amount of shit that's coming out of your mouth right now?” Frank laughs, shaking his head. “I didn't do any of the fucking cocaine, Gerard.” Frank turns his back on Gerard, leaning on the kitchen counter. He stares at the coke.
“Whatever, Frank.”
Frank grabs the baggy, spinning around and hurling it at Gerard.
“Have the fucking coke, Gerard! I don't even fucking want it, okay?” The coke lands on Gerard's chest, falling to the floor. Frank pushes past Gerard, making Gerard bump into the door frame. “Fuck you!” He shouts back to Gerard as he walks up the stairs.
Frank tries to calm himself, using his breathing trick, but it doesn't work. Every time Gerard makes a sound down the stairs, Frank gets madder at him.
He paces up and down their bedroom, kicking Gerard's case out of the way. The suitcase slams into the wall, making the wall shudder from the amount of force Frank puts into the kick.
Gerard, who is placing the blood into the fridge, trying to forget about some things, hears the case slam into the wall. He panics, thinking Frank had hurts himself or something, and rushes up the stairs.
He stops walking when he hears Frank in their bedroom, pacing and chuntering things. Rolling his eyes, he turns back down.
Frank hears him on the stairs, some part of him hoping that he comes in and that they apologize to each other. When he doesn't, it makes Frank furious. He pulls off a shoe, sending it flying to the door, making a kind of tearing noise as it rips a hole through the door.
For a minute, Gerard stops going down the stairs, and Frank stops pacing. They might have even caught each others eyes and apologized to each other, if it wasn't for the wall in the way.
Before long, Gerard continues on his way, heading back to the kitchen and proceeding to place the blood in the fridge and some in the freezer, his intents to save them for a later date in case they ever run out and can't go hunting.
Also, Frank continues pacing, but his eyes catches on the suitcases. A smirk grows on his face, part of him wanting to be completely over the top and horrible, but part of him telling himself that's overreacting way too much and he needs to stop.
The bad side wins.
Frank opens up Gerard's case, pulling out all of the crumpled clothes. Around a week and a half's worth of clothes are in there, in case of emergences and Gerard needed to change or he didn't want to wear something, so he had back-ups.
With all of the clothes in the pile, Frank walks to his set of drawers, opening them one by one and searching for some scissors.
He finds some, nice and sharp.
He begins to pull out a piece of clothing one by one, tearing each one to shreds with the scissors and then piling them in a separate pile. He laughs a little while doing it, his mind in haywire and disorientated. He doesn't really know what he's doing, not at all.
He gets through most of the pile before getting bored of it, so he listens to where Gerard is, and he is still in the kitchen. Frank needed to pick the best window in which to throw the clothes out of so Gerard sees, in order to get a bigger and better reaction out of him.
It doesn't cross Frank's mind that Gerard might have just had enough of his wild behaviour and will end it, all Frank wanted was a fight at this point.
He chooses the hall window, which is right above the kitchen, so Gerard would see clothes falling out onto the ground.
Opening the window, he picks up the clothes at his feet and starts throwing them out, bit by bit. The stars in the sky catch his eyes, but they look blurry and disjointed.
Frank can feel himself loosing it, but he decides that it doesn't really matter, really.
His mind does twists and turns and loops and somersaults, but at the same time, he isn't really thinking of anything. He can't feel his hands any more, and he can't control them or his thoughts.
Gerard spots something dark fall past the window out of the corner of his eye, and goes to the window to check it out. More dark things float down.
Gerard realizes that the dark things are clothes, with giant holes in them. Some of them aren't even whole pieces of clothing. Further more, Gerard starts to recognize the clothes as they fall.
They're mine... They're my fucking clothes!
He runs outside, leaving the door gaping. More clothes fall down. He looks upwards, locking eyes with the source of the destroyed clothes. Frank.
To add insult to the injury, Frank has a smile on his face. Slightly maniacal, but a smile none the less.
“What the fuck are you doing? They're my fucking clothes, Frank!” Frank laughs softly, throwing more down. He's almost out, so he throws the rest down all at the same time.
“I know, Gerard. I wouldn't slice my clothes up, would I?” Gerard doesn't know what to say. Plenty of things spring to mind, but unlike Frank he knows what he should and shouldn't say most of the time.
“So you're not completely insane, then? You haven't completely fucking lost it?” Gerard speaks calmly and calculatedly, looking straight up to Frank.
The words are intended to hurt, but they do the opposite. They make Frank laugh.
“Not quite, Gerard. Almost.” Gerard just stares at him with disgust. He has no words.
Instead, he just picks up his clothes and goes back inside. He locks the door, dumping the clothes next to him. Frank has come down the stairs a little bit, that same fucking smile on his face.
“Stop fucking smiling, Frank.” Frank shakes his head, his smile growing.
Picking the clothes back up, he goes into the kitchen, wondering what to do with them. He can't keep them, so what should he do with them?
Burn them. Perhaps it'll shock Frank enough that he might snap out of whatever it is he's in.
But then he thinks up something else, something to make them equal.
Gerard leaves his clothes on the side, heading up the stairs, into their bedroom. Frank follows him, smiling all the while.
Gerard opens Frank's suitcase, pulling out all of the clothes inside, just like Frank had done not too long before.
A little while later, Gerard is in their back yard. He's piled up all of the clothes in the middle of the grass. Frank watches him from the back door. He didn't say a word when he realized what Gerard was going to do.
Gerard pulls that matches out of his pocket, lighting one and dropping it on the pile. The fire takes a while to catch fully, but when it does, the flames reach high, dancing and flickering.
Frank can't watch the fire. It reminds him too much of his father. It brings back up things that were buried deep inside a long time ago.
Things that should stay buried.
He looks down, but he can still hear the crackling and smell the smoke. It transports him to somewhere different, somewhere that was burnt to the ground a long while ago. Somewhere that still lives and breathes in his memory, and right now, in the real word.
Gerard pays no heed to Frank, not realizing what is happening to him. He just watches the fire, disappointed when the burning doesn't make him feel any better. He still feels hurt and angry, but it's like he has no more energy to fight.
He just watches the fire burn out, not once looking up. He waits until the fire is completely out before looking up, at the doorway. Frank isn't there any more, and Gerard doesn't really care. He isn't going to forgive Frank this time. Not unless Frank can earn it, and that means going to get help and shit.
The sky begins to get lighter. The sun was already up, but the sky was dark and cloudy. The sun finally shone through some of the clouds, bathing everything in pale, early morning sun.
Gerard stomps on the ashes, making sure there was no chance of the fire starting again, and then heads indoors. He pulls some blood out of the fridge, ripping open the bag and drinking the blood. Throwing the bag in the trash, he listens for Frank.
Frank is in the lounge, lying on the couch, trying to make the memories go away. Gerard can hear him breathing in and out, something Gerard knows that he uses to calm himself down.
Gerard ignores him, even though his heart is telling him not to, and goes upstairs.
He begins to feel lonely after a few hours of nothingness. He can't get comfortable. He's had two showers, he lay on their bed, he's changed his clothes three times, and he drew a few things.
He just feels completely uneasy. Like something is sat on his shoulders, pressing him down and crushing him slowly.
Lying on the floor, he rolls onto his stomach. He plays with his hair, trying to placate himself. Strands fall out as he pulls on it, making him feel a little better.
Standing up, he brushes himself down, getting rid of the hair and dirt from the carpets.
He looks around, the house staying silent.
Sighing, he walks down the stairs. Frank still hadn't moved. Gerard gets some more blood, drinking it even though he doesn't really want it.
Frank hears the noise in the kitchen and opens his eyes, but the sunlight makes him hiss, his eyes not used to it. Gerard hears him and freezes. Frank makes no more noise, but he keeps his eyes open.
Things look a lot more clearer for him, now. He still can't exactly think straight, and he can't really remember all that he'd just done, but he was feeling slightly better.
Gerard reopens the fridge, puling out two more blood bags. He walks through to where Frank is lying, with his open eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Here,” His voice is low and croaky. Frank's eyes slowly swivel to where Gerard is stood over him. He makes no move to take the blood, he just looks at Gerard slightly confusedly. “Drink the damn blood, Frank. Jesus Christ.” Gerard bites him lips, silently scolding himself for snapping.
Frank reaches out a hand, so Gerard passes him the bags.
Sitting up, Frank opens one of them, and Gerard turns around and starts walking away.
Frank, suddenly, doesn't want to be alone any more. Not for anything. He wants to share with somebody everything he though recently.
“Wait...” He voice is croaky, too, from the lack of usage. Gerard stops.
“Yes?” He says, quietly.
“Um... it... it doesn't matter,” Frank gets quieter as he talks, his shoulders dropping.
Gerard walks away, back up the stairs, to perhaps have another shower to try and shift the uneasiness in his chest.

Notes