Hell-Bent on Slipping Away (Frerard)

The late November night was freezing, and with each step Frank took barefoot on his tundra of a front lawn, he cursed himself for not wearing shoes outside. The trash bag slung over his shoulder smelled putrid and he couldn't have been more miserable for the next thirty seconds.

He threw the garbage bag into the huge plastic bin and wiped his hands on his pants, because some sort of liquid had begun dripping out of the plastic and down his arms. He rolled his eyes out of exasperation and closed the garbage can lid. All was silent.

"Heya!" said a voice out of nowhere, causing Frank to jump out of his skin.

"Fuck!" Frank said out of shock. As he attempted to calm his nerves, Gerard revealed himself from around the corner of the house. "What the hell are you doing, Gerard?"

"I was waiting for you. Let's take a walk." He smiled and nodded to the road in front of them.

"Um, okay..." said Frank, his words trailing off. "It's kinda late, my mom might say no." He had to ask his mother, because he had only come outside briefly to take the trash out.

Gerard's mouth twitched in thought. "We'll go when she's asleep. Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Frank, shrugging. He went around onto the porch, but Gerard didn't follow. He was already halfway up the rose trellis by Frank's room. Frank didn't have the energy to say anything against it. Something about his friend and front doors didn't get along.

He made it to his room in time to open the (still cracked) window for Gerard. He didn't have the balls to tell his mother about it and planned on earning enough money to pay for the replacement himself. Gerard tumbled in and sat up on the bed.

"Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" Frank muttered, not to Gerard nor anyone in particular. He had been feeling quite left out lately, as any free time Gerard had now was not spent on video games or messing around with Frank. It was instead with Lindsey, and the past weeks had become almost unbearable. For the first time since he met Gerard four years ago, he felt utterly alone.

Gerard shifted his positioning, fixating his gaze on the younger boy, and Frank realized that he had heard him. "Is somebody jealous?" he asked playfully, a grin pulling at his lips. His fucking lips.

"What?" stuttered Frank. "N-no, I was just commenting. You seem to do everything with her now." He was lying through his teeth; jealousy had been in fact one thing that he was feeling, in addition to hopelessness, confusion, lust, and the ever-so-persistent tiredness. The last had become an expected thing.

Gerard considered this, tilting his head to the side in that ever-so-adorable manner, but disregarded it. "Dude, have you been sleeping okay?"

He hadn't. Frank's circadian rhythm had been off since the beginning of freshman year, almost three months now. The circles under his eyes began to resemble a nineteenth-century painting more than skin. He shook his head.

"Luggage check under Frank's eyes," Gerard chuckled softly. Frank quirked an eyebrow. "Go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No!" said Frank suddenly. He realized he probably sounded extremely desperate. "What did you, uh, what did you want me for?"

"Oh, I just thought we should go on a walk like we always do. Just talk. Have a good time." Gerard's smile turned from playful to hopeful, and Frank couldn't help but comply. He fixed his gaze on a scrape down Gerard's arm. Maybe this would be an opportune time to be more open with each other and ask about the injuries. He needed to know about Gerard and Mikey's dad, he needed to know about why Gerard went missing. He deserved to know; after all, he was Gerard's best friend.

"Why don't we just stay here and talk?" Frank asked. "It's cold as balls out." He gave Gerard an expectant raise of the eyebrows.

Gerard shrugged. "Alright, what you wanna talk about then? What's up at school that I haven't heard about yet?"

Frank sat on his bed and flopped over, laying next to his friend. He didn't want to talk about school. Biting his lip awkwardly, he said, "Um, why don't we talk about you?"

Gerard looked to Frank, perplexed. This was a terrible way to start the conversation, but Frank couldn't think of another way. "What about me?" Gerard's words were cautious and slow, like saying the wrong thing could set off a bomb.

"Well," Frank started, "I've just noticed a few things, and I want to make sure you're alright." He paused and swallowed thickly as his friend eyed him suspiciously. "I see the little cuts and bruises and things, and I know your dad... isn't the nicest to you and Mikey."

"Frank, I'm fine," Gerard insisted. But the lingering bruise around his eyes and the fingernail marks on his arms told Frank otherwise. Frank longed to trace his fingers over them, telling Gerard that everything would be alright. "I don't know what Mikey has been telling you, but forget it. We're both good." Frank must have not looked convinced, because he added, "Klutziness runs in the family."

Expression becoming more concerned with his stubbornness, Frank sighed shallowly. He sat up and looked the redhead in the eyes. "Then where have you been disappearing to?"

"I don't know what -" Gerard started.

Frank cut him off. "Don't play fucking dumb, dude. I just want to know you're not going off and taking meth or some shit, putting yourself in dan -"

"I'm not fucking putting myself in danger!" Gerard said abruptly, sitting up.

The room suddenly became two times smaller and ten times more suffocating. Frank was shaking; they never got mad at each other. But he knew that in order to help whatever the hell was going on, he had to find out what it was. Gerard was being petty - like he didn't want help.

"Why," Frank asked, "why are you being so defensive? If you're not hurting yourself wherever you're going, what's causing the cuts and shit? Why are you leaving? I just want to make sure you're okay, you've been worrying me sick!" Frank exhaled and let the anger run through his veins as Gerard shook his head.

"You don't understand, you wouldn't understand..." his voice trailed off.

The younger boy was practically begging at this point. "Then make me understand, or I can't fucking help you."

Gerard was growing angry by this point. His normally calm exterior was fading. "Why. The fuck. Do you think. That I need help?" He accented every word with venom.

Besides the injuries that Gerard wouldn't acknowledge, it wasn't something Frank could explain. It was a gut feeling, like when you just know that something bad is about to happen in a movie. But this wasn't a movie - this was real life, and Gerard could be over his head in something that he wouldn't talk about.

Just then, before he could answer, Frank's mom walked in the room. "What's all this noise?" she asked, pushing open the door. She then saw Gerard sitting on the bed. "Oh, Gerard, honey, I didn't know you were over. Frank, you need to tell me these things." She pursed her lips at the younger boy.

Frank resolved the frustration from his voice and replied, "Sorry, Mom. I'll tell you next time, because honesty is really important in a functioning relationship." He gave his best smile, not before shooting a pointed look at his friend.

Mrs. Iero looked a bit perplexed, but she should have been used to her son's strange behaviors by now. "Oh. Okay, Frank. That's right." Frank swore he could hear her say under her breath as she shook her head, so weird. "You're welcome to spend the night, dear," she said to Gerard.

He grinned politely at Mrs. Iero. "Actually, ma'am, I was just leaving. Thank you, though. Maybe next time." He stood, glared at Frank, and exited the door after her.

It's not like Frank would have been able to sleep much anyways that night, but that scene with Gerard kept replaying itself over and over in his mind. They never, ever fought, and it was particularly alarming how nasty it had gotten so quickly. Gerard was hiding something, Frank knew it, and he didn't know what to do about it. He couldn't figure a way to get the information out of Gerard, and if he did, what would he do with it?

Gerard was Frank's lifeline. He was what kept Frank grounded but also dared him to dream. He was good at getting lost in beauty and showing it to Frank. He was a great friend, and if Frank couldn't return the favor by giving him the support he needed when he was obviously torn apart inside, then that really made Frank a piece of shit.

Notes

I've got a lot of stuff going on and I know this update is late, sorry

I hope you all have had a fantastic summer so far, if it's not over yet, but I go back next week, and I really, really don't want to.

I also have a shit ton of reading to do so I'm going to go do that now, have a lovely day

xoxo
gerweird