Frank sniffled against Gerard's t-shirt. He smelled like a mix of coffee and cigarettes. He pulled into him closer.

"I didn't want to do this to you."

The line swam through Frank's mind over and over again on a loop. If he never wanted to do this, why did he do it in the first place? Frank slumped against Gerard.

"If you didn't want to do this to me, why am I here?" Frank asked, playing his thoughts in the open air. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his sobs and chokes. He felt exhausted; if there was an all he had to give, the last few days had seen that. He got up off of Gerard and sat in his own.

"It's..." Gerard started, not finishing the sentence. He knew it would finish with complicated and that's probably the worst thing he could say.

"I know... But can't you explain it to me?" Frank tried, biting his lip and grabbing Gerard's hand. He curled up into the older man, resting his head on his chest and listening to his steady heart beat. He squeezed his hand, and his heart beat sped up. Frank smiled a genuine smile for what seemed like days, but realistically, had only been a few hours.

Gerard thought this through. Frank was here in his arms. He had never let someone that close since... Since that day. The day it happened. He was never going to forgive himself for that day... The day he was so blindly stupid.

"I had a boyfriend... A long term relationship. His name was... It was Bert. He was lovely to me. He was so caring... Always so... Real, if that makes sense. Anyway, he was with me for about two years before... it..." Gerard trailed off, taking deep shaky breaths. He was quivering under Frank and he let his eyes get cloudy, his vision cut off. Frank reached up to run a thumb across his cheek bone, trying to calm him. Gerard sobbed a few times before taking a few more deep breaths.

"Bert... He was heavily involved in drugs. I found out a year into our relationship and he went mental. He had a total double life that no one in his family know about. He was in a cult, or a gang, if you will, called the Boxer Wolves. He was involved with crime, drugs and alcohol. He would frequently go off on on "Business Trips" to Chicago, which was normal for him. He worked there, so I thought nothing of it. So when I found out about his gang, he would... he..." Gerard trailed off again, sobbing harder and crying big fat tears. The rolled down his face and onto Frank's head. Frank shuffled up a bit, so he was face to face with Gerard on the bean bag. He turned his head with his index finger and looked into his eyes. He pressed their foreheads together gently, kissing his nose. Wiping the way the last of their tears, he bit his lip and waited for Gerard to continue.

"He would... he would beat me. In order to keep me quiet he would beat me," Gerard paused, gasping for air a little. Frank helped to take off his jacket, as he was over heating, and settled back down with Gerard in his arms. "He would beat me hard, and leave marks for days. I have some scars on my back where he threw a plate at me. Anyway, he got so heavily involved in this gang that he would spend months at a time in Chicago with the hooligans. One day, he got himself in a pile of shit. He brought some cocaine off of a dealer and never paid him. To make matters worse, he had been sleeping with his wife, who had HIV and didn't know about it. When he returned from Chicago, I had him tested, just to see if he was telling him the truth about him not cheating. Turns out... He wasn't."

"The best thing he ever did for me from that moment on wards was not touch me. I couldn't care to look at him, but I stayed with him, because I was too afraid to leave him, scared of what he might achieve. I stayed with him, and he went back to Chicago, He was only supposed to be gone a few days, but he wasn't He never came home for five weeks. By this point, I was really worried and I had called one of his close friends, Matt to see where he was. Bert was dead."

"The man who had killed him was the drug dealer, in search of revenge on his wife and the money. Instead, he murdered the only thing I had left in my life. Bert was gone."

"Matt told me that the only thing Bert had said to him was, if he ever died on the job, I was to take his place. The next thing I knew, I received a knock on the door of my house in Dakota, forcing me from my home and into the cult. I am now part of the cult and I hate it. I wish I could leave, but I can't I feel like I owe it to Bert. Plus, I don't want to face the courts, and they are often in favor of the courts. "

"My First job was to kill the person who had murdered my Bert. He was the person you saw me... kill... in the alley. I am so sorry you ever had to see that. He fled to Jersey, my home town. My parents disowned me after I told them I was gay, and I fled to North Dakota. I tracked him down and did what I did. I returned to the group and they asked me about witnesses. I said yes, there had been one. I had to go to get you."

"I saw you go back to the murder scene. I followed you home and that's how I knew where you lived. Then, you pretty much know the story from there."

Frank sat in stunned silence, hugging his boy.

"You're so broken," Frank murmured, "but I'm going to fix you."