Mute

Frank's pov*

I feel very little sympathy for Gerard. Yes, he is sleeping on the couch. He deserves it. He got me a fucking detention, that douche... But I can't blame him. He doesn't talk, so he couldn't explain what happened to the teacher.
I blare music, likely loud enough for a neighbor to hear. (Oh well)
Before attempting to rest, I turn the music down. I don't want to be a complete dick. I'm not in the mood for a lecture from Mom about the neighbor's complaints anyway.
I've been up for hours, and can't seem to fall asleep. But this is no surprise. I'm used to this. I have insomnia, so it a not like it's new for me to be up late.
When sleep finally comes, it crashes into me all at once. I am rendered defenseless to the abyss that washes over me. I close my eyes, black filing over my body.
*
At about 3:00am, I awake to a shriek.
"Shit! Gerard!" I gasp remembering the boy who I'd shown no kindness towards.
I trip out of bed, and make my way towards to door. My floor is cluttered with books and other shit that's not exactly identifiable.
I grasp the door knob, trying to turn it. It doesn't budge.
Oh yeah. I locked it.
I sprint to the living room to help the boy who is defenseless to his terrors.
Gerard is laying down on the couch, violently jerking in his sleep.
I rush to his side. I try to calm him to my best abilities.
"Shhh... Gee...," I test his nickname a little. It sounds so natural now that I've adjusted to it; Gee.
"It's okay... Shhh...," I squat beside.him, stroking his hair as he rests.
He whimpers quietly. I feel awful. Everything goes silent. I think I've helped as I start for the stairs.
A startled, blood curdling shriek escapes Gerard. I swear my heart stops.
I spin back around to help him.
I coo quietly. "Gerard... Shhh... It's okay...," I plead.
He gasps, sitting up suddenly.
His eyes meet mine. A glimpse of shear terror is flashed as he pants.
"Are you okay? You were fucking shrieking. The whole fucking neighborhood probably thinks we were fucking stabbing you!" I whisper scream. He looks taken aback.
A quiet sob escapes his lips. I made him cry. Of course!
"Don't cry," I beg. He does no such thing. He lies back down, and faces the backside of the sofa. His quiet sniffles really make me feel awful. I walk into the kitchen, and grab a glass of water for Gerard. I set it down on the coffee table as I return to the couch.
"Please. I'm sorry," I touch his arm.
He rolls back to face me, his cheeks wet, his eyes red in the pale light.
"Don't cry. I'm sorry. No one's mad. Just... Don't cry...," I rub his arm as comfortingly as I can. He flinched as if I'll hit him.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," I whisper. "Don't flinch."
He nods as if talking.
"Do you wanna go back to the room? Would that make you feel better?" I ask. He nods. I beckon him, as I hand him the glass of water I brought for him.
He nods, taking it willingly.
I collect his blankets and pillows, and lead the way to the room. He follows hesitantly, but not cowardly.
"Gerard, don't be afraid of me. You act like I'll hurt you," I tell him. He nods like I threatened him.
I sigh as I open the bedroom door.
"Careful, I have books on the floor," I warn. He nods, just nearly visible in the pale light.
I put his stuff on his bed. He sets down the water on the dresser, and lies down in the bed.
"Good night, Gerard," I say calmly as I plop down on my own bed.
He doesn't respond. I hear him yawn, and take that as good enough.
"I'll see you in the morning," I say bluntly and obviously.
Obviously I'll see him in the morning. We live in the same house! I mentally kick myself as I pull a blanket over my head.

Notes

Chapter by: gay llama

its not too bad, right? Not completely terrible, right?