The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

After the rather awkward series of events that ensued at the diner, we headed back to our room at the Holiday Inn and retired there, where we both painstakingly waited for sunfall to come, killing our time...at least, that’s what Gerard’s been doing, looking out the window of the room as he worked on some drawing in his sketchpad, even though I can’t see what it is since his back is facing me, his tall body blocking my view of the book in front of him. I, on the other hand, have been trying to grab onto every last minute for my dear life, just to have each one inevitably slip away from me as the hands on the wall clock ticked away. I know that tonight's drawing nearer as every minute to hour passes us by, and sadly, there’s nothing in my power I can do to stop it, no matter how I manage the spare time on my hands before we are soon to head out when the sun finally goes down. It doesn’t matter if I make it feel slow by staring at the bare ceiling or the stock scenery paintings on the walls, or make it go by a little faster by either taking a nap or watching tv show reruns; tonight will still come no matter what, and nothing can prevent it from doing so, as much as I wish there was a way to stop it dead in it’s tracks, sparing us from the madness and bloodshed that’s yet to happen. The only thing I can literally do now is sit and wait before Gerard decides it’s time to leave and pursue his oath of sweet, bloody revenge. I can’t run away, nor can I try to make up excuses to not go or try to change Gerard’s mind about what he’s been so hellbent on doing for the last several years, long before we first met on that fateful day months ago in the basement back at home. Because of the brutally honest truth that there’s no other option for me out of this ordeal, I am beyond hopeless, and with that, I am also beyond fucking scared outta my mind, so much that it seems to be losing itself more and more. I know I’ve made that clear millions of times before, but it’s honestly the best way I can even come close to describing how I feel. What’s more is there to say, anyway?
I feel really tired for some odd reason. It’s probably due to the fact that I didn’t get much sleep last night, no thanks to the constant unfriendly reminders my mind keeps giving me about tonight. I could just easily fall asleep on this bed right here and right now; all I have to do is get in a comfortable position and shut my eyes, but I just can’t do that. If I pass out, time will go by faster, which means the night where...it happenswill come to us quicker. I’m also scared of sleeping because there’s the fear of seeing that awful image in my head again; the image of the bloody-nosed Gerard holding my decapitated head in his hand, smiling menacingly as my own dead hazel eyes stare straight at me. That image is burned into my retina as much as it is in my mind, turning sleep into something I’ve had to avoid like the plague. My own eyes that I’ve come to hate have been tempting me the whole time with the toxic yet essential luxury, growing heavy and begging me to let them shut already. I’ve tried drinking coffee from the little brewer on the bathroom counter to give myself a boost of caffeine, but to no avail. The dead silence within the hotel room doesn’t make it any easier; it’s so quiet in here that I can’t even hear the soft scratching of Gerard’s pencil on the sketch paper of his pad, or the humming of the AC. It’s a quietness that’s so profound that it’s almost bordering on ominous, doing everything in it’s soundless power to deprave me of my senses and lull me to sleep. The last couple or so hours have been nothing but a full-out war with my own mind and the many fears dwelling in it, as well as time itself.
As I lied still on the bed, something I’ve been doing now for the longest time in this room and no longer getting my ass up to drink more coffee or move around a bit, I looked up at the clock on the wall, seeing that it’s quarter til seven right now. So far, I’ve been losing this battle, and there’s no hope of redemption for me at all. At this point, I might as well just give up, knowing that my fate is sealed. I might as well also stop trying to fight the urge to sleep and let the nightmare fuel come full force to me the minute my mind drifts off to slumber. There’s no use fighting something I know I can’t ever stop. It’s a battle that’s meant to be lost, pretty much. I was bound to lose it from the very start. Accepting my loss and what’s yet to come in my sleep, I shut my eyes, caving into my whole body’s need for--
“You’ve been awfully quiet, Frankie,” Gerard’s voice suddenly boomed throughout the room, breaking the dead silence like glass, it’s shards crashing to the floor. My eyes opened wide, my whole body jolting itself into full wake mode. It felt like he was invisible or not even there at all in the midst of my sleep-deprived agony, but here he is, still sitting in a chair facing the window, his body turned towards me to view mine in it’s entirety, sprawled out on the made bed, just like it has been for the last god knows how many hours. He smiled, setting his sketchbook down on the page he previously worked on as he stood up and laid down next to me, making himself comfortable close to my stiff and restless self. “Is something wrong, baby?”
Oh yes, Gerard. There is something wrong. In fact, there’s a million things that are wrong, and many of them have to do with me! Can’t you see that, or are you blind? Are you playing dumb with me, or are you just that fucking oblivious and blinded by your own batshit craziness? There’s so much wrong with me and I’m a mess, just like you! Of course there’s something wrong, Gerard!
“No,” I shook my head, too tired to even tell the truth or even care anymore. Doing that will get me nowhere. Gerard won’t care if I’m too tired or too scared. That won’t stop him from what he wants. To him, I am gonna help him get what he wants, whether I like it or not. It’s his way or the fucking highway. “I’m fine, Gee,”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire. You’re bluffing, sugar,” Gerard scooted himself closer to me, his body so familiarly warm up against mine, his fingers brushing over my mildly perspiring forehead. “Come on, sugar pop. Tell me what’s wrong,”
“I…,” I sighed, deciding that maybe it’s best if I just tell him a little bit. After all, I do feel far from fine. I must not look like it either if I feel so shitty. I’m not gonna be looking so fabulous if I’ve been lacking sleep, now am I? “I don’t feel good. I’m tired…,”
“I know, baby. I know you aren’t feeling good. I can see it. Why haven’t you slept at all? You’ve been just laying around staring off into space the whole time while I’ve been working on my craft. Are you sure you’re fine, Frankie?”
Holy shit. How did he know? Does he have eyes in the back of his head or something? I don’t think in the past several hours we’ve spent laying around in this hotel room that he turned around to look at me once until he finally spoke just moments ago. He was still like a statue in that chair, facing the window with his head down and focusing on his sketchpad. I’m almost sure he didn’t move a muscle, except for the ones in his arms and hands to work on whatever he was drawing. Is he psychic? It wouldn’t surprise me if he was. After all, he’s also a serial killer and an escaped mental patient, so nothing else would really surprise me at this point.
“What? How did you know?” I asked. “How did you-”
“Because, I just do. I know things, and I see and hear things too. Like I said, I may be a little outta my mind, but I’m not stupid. There’s a big difference, y’know,” Gerard leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the nose, his warm lips sending chills down my spine. He looked deep into my eyes, searching for the hidden discontent behind them. “Now tell me, Frankie...what’s wrong? Why don’t you feel good? Why are you tired? Why are you unable to sleep? Why do you look so...distressed, should I say?”
You know what? Fuck it. I have to tell him. I need to tell him how I really feel about what we’re about to do. I am scared, and he needs to know it. If I do tell him, maybe he’ll understand. He has to. As much of a raging revenge-obsessed lunatic he is, he’s a raging revenge-obsessed lunatic with empathy. Maybe I’m wrong about being unable to change Gerard’s mind; maybe, just this one time, it will work. There’s still so much doubt that such a thing will happen, but there’s that slight sliver of hope within me that there is still a possible chance, no matter how slim it may be. Maybe I haven’t lost this fight just yet. Maybe things will change if I let him know how genuinely scared I really am. It’s so genuine that I can feel it within me at full force. I’m shaking inside, just wanting to scream and cry and hide in a dark corner, away from everyone and everything.
No, wait a minute...I don’t think I should tell him. Last time I expressed my doubts and fears about helping him kill Irvine, it didn’t go well at all. In fact, it ended horribly. That was when Gerard attacked me and screamed at me and attacked himself too. I never want to go through that again. I don’t want him to hurt me, just like I don’t want him to hurt himself. After all, I did promise to help him. I can’t back out now, because it’s a sealed deal at this point. I really am stuck now.
Oh no...what do I do? What do I tell him? I can’t say anything because I’m that terrified. Is this the perfect time for me to panic? It sure as well might be, because now I’m really losing myself!
“Frankie?”
I can’t speak. It’s like my own throat is closing in on me, suffocating me slowly but surely. I can barely breathe now, and I’m huffing and puffing to catch my breath. Everything hurts now that I’m unable to even breathe! I can’t fucking breathe!
“Frankie? Frankie, baby! Look at me!”
I can’t see anymore. My vision’s so blurred that I can’t tell what’s what around me. It’s like everything’s gone into slow motion, and the whole world around me is disintegrating! Where did Gerard go? Where did I go? What’s even happening to me? Someone please help me! I don’t know if I’m dying, but for the love of fuck, someone please save me!
“Frankie! Oh, poor baby! Stop crying sugar, I’m here!”
It’s like everything just came right back to me, the whole world oriented back to it’s normal self when I felt that familiar set of arms wrap me up, holding me against his chest. His touch saved me from whatever horrible hybrid of chaos was just taking place. What did just happen though? Did I just get so scared that my mind frigged up, sending me into...well, whatever the fuck that was? Whatever that was that just happened, I’m still so shaken, so much that I’m crying like a baby, holding on to Gerard as if my whole life depended on it. It was that scary, like nothing I’ve experienced before. It’s almost like that bad trip I had off Bob’s weed all over again. Maybe I was right. Maybe I really am going crazy. Maybe a really unpleasant part of Gerard is starting to grow on me. I hope I’m wrong about that, though. Oh, I better be fucking wrong…
“G-gerard,” I choked, my voice muffled in his shirt. “I’m sorry, Gee. I’m just...I’m just so scared! I’m fucking scared, Gerard! I’ve never killed anyone before. I’ve never even see anyone die right in front of me! I don’t even know what a dead body looks like outside of the movies! I’m so scared of getting hurt! I’m so scared of losing you...and I’m scared of losing myself too! I know I promised to help you, but...goddamnit, I’m just too scared! I’m sorry, Gerard! I’m sorry! I’m-”
“Shhh…,” Gerard hushed my lips, placing a light finger over them as he started to stroke my hair again. “Calm down, sugar pop. It’s okay. There’s no need to be sorry. I understand how you feel. I understand why you’re scared,”
“H-how so?” I uttered under my silenced voice, feeling a sudden pang in my chest. Did it work? Was I able to make Gerard think twice about what we’re about to do when we leave this hotel? Was I able to bring back the true Gerard I know and love that’s been hidden behind this monster? Was I able to spare the both of us from the insanity and carnage that’s yet to ensue? “Wh-what...what do you mean?”
“I totally get why you’re so afraid, Frankie. I know you’ve never killed anyone, and it looks really scary based on what it’s been made out to be by this fucking society we live in. And yes, killing someone is obviously dangerous, but…,” Gerard’s face contorted as his voice trailed off, his expression turning from soft smiles to wide and wicked grins, chuckling playfully under his breath as his eyes lost whatever delicacy was previously behind them moments ago. “...but, if you just play your cards right and be careful enough, it won’t be so bad. In fact...it’ll be something you’ll never wanna forget, because it’s definitely one hell of an experience. I helped you back then when you were alone and hurting after your mom and dad left you for dead, and now that you’re well and no longer suffering, this is your way of returning the favor. Just know that you’re doing the right thing by helping me, becuase you’re doing this for me…,”
Nope. I was wrong. I have failed. I haven’t changed his mind at all. I wasn’t even fucking close! Goddamnit….It’s all over. I’ve lost all hope at this point. What’s the point anyway? Of course he’s not gonna change his mind. But then again, that’s pretty hard to do, to try to change the mind of someone so sick in the head and corrupted.
“Don’t you worry, baby,” Gerard continued, his laughs coming to a stop as he cuddled himself up against my motionless, dumbfounded self. “I don’t find it hard to believe that you’re a little scared. I’ll be right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll protect you, Frankie. I promise,”
I didn’t say anything as I wiped my tears dry. I am still far from convinced that we are not putting ourselves in grave danger for what we’re yet to do...or rather, what Gerard’s yet to do, dragging me along with him. He just can’t seem to get a grip that I really don’t wanna help kill someone, let alone with a complete psychopath. I’m not just scared of what we’re yet to do, but also who I’m doing it with. How can he protect me if he himself is such an insane, manipulative, and vicious threat anyway?
“Come on, baby. Let’s go,” Gerard sat up, his hands clamped tight on my body as he lifted me up with him, passively forcing me to obey like the control freak he is. “It’s getting dark, so we should leave soon. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, too. Car’s all packed up with all we need. Get yourself ready, and drink some more coffee to keep yourself up and alert if you need to,”
Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. I know you mentioned earlier that we’re leaving at sunset, but this early? Are you serious right now, Gerard? Maybe I’m saying it’s too early because I am dreading this whole thing that much. We shouldn’t be doing this at all! This is a mistake!
Dreading more and more what’s yet to come tonight, I pushed myself with full mental force to get my tired and distressed ass off the bed and to my feet, following Gerard’s orders and verbalizing no objections. After we both gathered our bearings and drank a few cups of coffee, I reluctantly followed Gerard out of the hotel room before I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks in the doorway, with Gerard walking right out and down the hall, leaving me behind. I suddenly thought of something very random, but somewhat vital to know--what was Gerard drawing? What was he so focused and working so intensely on while I was in a near-catatonic state on the bed earlier? One of the few things about Gerard that doesn’t scare the shit outta me is his phenomenal artistic talent, as well as his years of dedication to the craft. Whenever I see him so deep into his sketchbook or painting canvas, it’s essential for me to look at what he’s working on. My curious mind just seems to have that craving to know. I just hope it’s nothing grotesque like those graphic drawings of his from long ago. I just wanna see something nice, that’s all. I quickly turned back and walked to the table in the far corner of the room, looking down at Gerard’s open drawing book that’s sitting next to his worn-down pencil. It was when I got a good look at the page that I felt my heart stop.
The page is blank, along with the others. Not even a single scribble are on any of them.
_ _ _
To my bitter luck, I was able to sleep throughout most of the long ride, but not very well. I kept slipping in and out of sleep again and again, constantly being greeted with that horrid image of Gerard in my dreams that I always dread seeing, always resulting in me nearly jumping in my seat waking up and leaving me on the edge of it. I’ve entirely given up on keeping myself awake to avoid seeing that fucking dream. I just needed to sleep that badly, and sleep deprivation doesn’t do my disturbed mind any favors. Maybe that’s just one of the reasons why I keep having the same nightmare over and over again; while my mind hasn’t been in a very good place knowing what’s yet to come for me and Gerard, I’ve been preventing myself from sleeping. It is common knowledge that sleep deprivation causes really bad nightmares, after all. It also causes you to start losing your fucking mind, and that’s exactly what’s been happening to me lately. Regardless of how much sleep I get, I’m still not gonna be alright. We are getting closer to our location with each mile we drive in the dead of night, and there’s still nothing I can do about it. All I really can do at this point is sit back and let everything take it’s course as my sanity slips further away from me.
“We’re getting close,” Gerard said excitedly, confirming my fears as he pulled off the highway, his enthused eyes skimming over the road map to find his next turn. “It shouldn’t be long til we pull over to his street. From what I’ve gathered, he practically lives out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wooded area, so there’s no worry of onlooking neighbors to deal with. Traffic shouldn’t be a problem since it’s so late at night, thankfully. The warehouse isn’t that far from his house either. Everything’s going well according to plan so far!”
Thanks, Gerard. Thanks for reminding me of why I’m inches away from having a full-out mental breakdown. Thanks for giving me more and more reasons to panic and let my anxiety get the best of me. Just pour more salt on the open wound, why don’t you? Thanks a fucking lot, Gerard. You’re a big help, man.
“Are you nervous, sugar?” Gerard turned to me, eyeing me in a concerned matter at my visibly shaking and silent self. I can see from my own reflection in the car window that I am far more than just that. I just nodded quietly, my ability to speak long-gone.
“Of course you are. I know you’re scared, baby,” he sighed, turning onto a road surrounded by nothing but dense woods, traversing us away from populated territory and further into darkness, the headlights illuminating the barely visible dirt road ahead of us. “Just remember what I told you, Frankie. I will fucking protect you, even if it means putting my own life on the line. I mean it. Do you understand?”
He just doesn’t get it. That’s not the true reason why I’m scared...alright, it kinda is. I, of course, am not gonna be all that sound-minded knowing that there’s the risk of me getting my ass killed just straight ahead of us, but that’s not the number one reason why I am the way I am right now. All I did was nod in response though. There’s just no point of objecting to him at this point. It’s all futile, since he’s so caught up in his own lust for revenge and murder, as well as his own insanity.
After what seemed like a long time driving on the bumpy dirt road surrounded by a mass of tree branches and bushes, we pulled up to an opening with a small, run-down house in the distance that’s far beyond renovation. Even though we’re still a good distance from it, it’s not hard to see the terrible shape it’s in all the way from over here several feet away. There’s no way in hell someone could possibly live in a house like this. If anything, it may as well be a haven for anyone involved in the underground drug industry. Maybe this is where someone’s meth lab is? I’ll be damned if that’s not the case. It definitely doesn’t look far off from being a home belonging to some kind of felon. After all, this place is supposedly the home of someone that participated in the cold-blooded murder of two children’s parents.
“Well...this is it. We’re finally here!” Gerard announced a little too happily as he shut off the engine of the car, leaving us the forested blackness surrounding our car and the house just feet away from us. “It’s all here, right in front of us. Vengeance is so close to us, sugar! Oh, boy...I can already feel it!”
Oh, I can already feel it too, Gerard. I definitely can feel the blood splattering on us, and I don’t like it one bit. I already hate how this whole thing feels.
“Alright, baby. Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continued, catching his breath before he could possibly hyperventilate from too much excitement. “We’re gonna sneak up to the house to get a good view of our environment. Hopefully we can locate our target through one of the windows, but we gotta be very quiet and discreet. The worst that can happen is that he knows we’re here and sees us spying on him. Once we locate him, we’ll go from there and I’ll put together the game plan, alright?”
Before I could even have the opportunity to respond, Gerard got out of the car and opened up the trunk of the car, pulling out a backpack and slumping it over his shoulders. He then walked back to the front door of the car, his staring eyes waiting for me to step out and follow him, leaving me no choice but to do so. I know he would never budge until I do what he wants me to. He knows deep down that I’ve really been dreading this, but he could care less. Reluctantly walking behind him, we crept through the overgrown plantation in near complete darkness, the sound of dead leaves and branches crunching under our shoes, the full moon above us being our only source of light. It wasn’t long before we soon got close to the house of our target, it’s bad shape becoming clearer and easier for the human eye to see, the unkempt lawn we’ve been walking through only being the tip of the iceberg. Gerard redirected me to the side of the house, the both of us crouching down on our knees below the few windows on the first floor. We both peeked through one of them, the tattered drapes leaving a small gap for us to see through to find our prey. I can see that there are some lights on inside. I can also see the silhouette of a man in one of them, his back facing us and body seeming to be in a sitting position, like he’s sitting at a table in a dining room or something.
That must be Irvine that we see in the window.
“Shit!” Gerard hissed under his breath, his face contorting and grimacing in frustration. “God fucking damn it! He’s awake!”
“Well...now what?” I suddenly asked, knowing that Gerard’s first plan has likely already gone south, which unfortunately won’t stop him from pursuing what we came out here for.
“Now, we move on to plan B. It will be a bit riskier than what I originally planned to do, but...it can still work,” Gerard excused himself and slumped down on the ground, opening up his bag and rummaging through it’s many contents. He then paused, looking back up at me. “However, Frankie...there’s a catch. This is where you come in. I need you to help me out here with this backup plan,”
“Oh...h-how?” I gulped, feeling the hairs on my neck stand straight up.
“Here, we’re gonna need this,” Gerard pulled out what appears to be some sort of bottle, along with a white washcloth. Confused and unable to see exactly what’s in his hand no thanks to the almost blinding darkness, I squinted my eyes to read the small text on the bottle’s label--
Chloroform.
Gerard plans to knock out his target with a chloroform rag, just like he did with Jack all those years ago...
“What I need you to do is act as a distraction for him, like a decoy. You go in and put on a charade, act all frantic. Lie to him and say there was a car accident out on the road and that there’s people hurt, and ask him to use his phone. There’s one inside the kitchen. I’ll be watching through one of the windows to keep watch for you. Once you get inside the house and get him off guard, you’ll give me the signal when the coast is clear, and I’ll come in and do the dirty work, knocking him out with this chloroform rag. That’s all you gotta do for me, baby. Got it?”
Are you kidding me?
Are you fucking kidding me right now, Gerard? What the hell is wrong with you? You actually want me to go in there first, leaving me alone in the house with one of the dirtbags that killed your mom and dad? How in the holy mother of fuck does that sound like a good enough plan? It’s already a bad idea doing this whole kidnap and murder thing in the first place!
“I...I don’t know, Gerard,” I shook my head, knowing in the back of my mind that I’d never be that suicidal, let alone to help someone kill a guy for revenge. I can’t stand here fucking around and beating around the bush. I need to tell him that that’s a really bad idea. “I...I can’t do that, Gerard. I just can’t. I can’t-”
“Yes you can, Frankie! I know you can!” Gerard exclaimed under his hushed voice, grabbing onto my shoulders tightly as his desperate and wide-eyed gaze pierced right through me. “I know you’re afraid, but trust me! I know what I’m doing, and I’m not gonna let him hurt you! I did tell you that I will protect you, and goddamnit, I fucking will! You’ve gotta believe me, baby! Don’t you want me to get my revenge? Don’t you want the the people that ruined me to finally pay for all they’ve done to me? Don’t you...want me to be fixed, Frankie?”
Yes. Yes, I do want you to be fixed, Gerard! I want to help fix you, just like I said I would. But does that really mean risking my own actual life? God knows what will happen if I put myself around a man like that inside! I don’t even feel safe around you sometimes, Gerard! You’ve been scaring me so much, and I want this side of you to just go away forever! I don’t want to be in love with a sick and delusional killer. I want to be in love with the Gerard I met that one night in the basement, who loves drawing tells me that life is worth living, no matter how ugly things get! I know I told you that I will help you do this if it really is the only way to help fix you, but now that we’re actually here, it’s just too much! It’s just so wrong!
“Yes, I do, but…,” I paused, far from prepared for anything, even for something as simple as talking to Gerard. “I want to fix you, Gee. I do want to help, but...what happens if-”
“No, stop,” Gerard cut me off, clearly losing his patience with me. “There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Just listen to me. I. Will. Not. Let. Him. Hurt. You. This isn’t my first time out on the dancefloor, Frankie. It may be for you, but you are here with someone that’s done this more than once. I know what I am doing, and I’m not dumb enough to let anything happen to you. Just do what I told you, and we’ll make it through this in one piece. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again--I will protect you. I never go back on my word. That is a fucking promise,”
It doesn’t matter how many times you say that, Gerard. No plan is foolproof. Anything can happen, literally anything! But you know what? You win, yet again. It’s no use fighting it. I made my bed, now I’m gonna get fucked in it. It’s my fault for promising to help kill Irvine for you. But if anything does happen, especially if I get my ass handed to me, then guess what? It’s your fault then, Gerard. The blood will be on your hands. I’m only doing this because I have no other choice, and I got myself in this mess with you. Plus, as fucked up as it sounds, I also want Irvine dead after the horrendous things he did you and your family, but wishing death upon someone is completely different from making it actually happen. You could say I’m a coward for that, but I’d rather be that than someone with a deathwish for themselves. I really, really hope you’re happy, Gerard. You. Fucking. Win. Again. Like always.
“Alright...fine,” I sighed, caving in for good and handing over the last of my dignity. I may as well have been handing over my whole life as well. “I’ll do it,”
“That’s the spirit, sugar. I know you can do it!” Victorious yet again, Gerard took me into a tight hug before parting from me, crouching back down into his hiding spot and leaving me alone to fulfill the mission I’ve been forced to go through with. “I’m counting on you, Frankie. Go, now. Give ‘em hell, kid,”
Hah. As if you haven’t already given me any of that, Gerard.
Being the pathetic excuse of a murderer’s side-kick that I am, I slowly walked away from Gerard and back around to the front door of Irvine’s cheesebox of a house, feeling my chest constrict and sweat pour down my throbbing forehead. My legs are turning to jelly, as well as my insides. I haven’t even made it to the front door and I’m already freaking out, but for good reason. I just can’t believe what I’m about to do. I am about to go face to face with one of the killers of Gerard’s mom and dad, one of the people that ruined him ever since that terrible day. What’s even more scary is that we are about to bind, kidnap, torture, and kill him...and I am taking part in all of that. What kind of person have I let myself become doing this to someone? I am doing the world a favor by ridding it of vile scum, and I’m also doing a favor for the person I love by helping get what he’s so badly wanted to help himself get fixed, too.
But is that still a favor I can be proud of doing? At the end of the day, I still will be a murderer, which is exactly what both Gerard and Irvine are.
After forcing every ounce of energy within me out of my body, I finally managed to get it to the front door. Now all I have to do is knock, but I just can’t seem to be able to do that. My whole body is stuck, frozen in crippling fear. He’s right beyond this door, which is the only thing separating us right now. I am that close right now, yet my own mind as well as my sanity is all so far away from me. Where have I gone? What the hell is happening to me right now? What am I doing right now?
Just knock, Frank. That’s all you gotta do. Just knock the fucking door. Just do it, Frank. Just fucking do it, you stupid son of a--
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
There. I fucking did it. I knocked on the goddamn door. I did what you told me to, and now it’s done. Are you happy now, brain? Are you? You are? Okay. Good. Are you happy too, Gerard? I hope you’re still watching me. Oh, you better be. You also better be fucking glad that I’m-
“What do you want?”
I nearly jumped back when I just noticed the scrawny, prune-faced man standing in front of me at the door, his voice shockingly loud and booming, despite the guy looking old enough to be my great-grandfather and anything but intimidating (yet, ironically, this is one of the scumbags that killed Gerard’s parents). I think that’s only because I am a space cadet and got so caught up in the moment that I didn’t notice him answering the door. I can tell by the bitter look on his face ruined by years of (very likely) drug use that he doesn’t look pleased at all. I must’ve interrupted him while he was busy with something, or whatever else. Speaking of drug abuse, another thing that seems to stand out about this guy is the way he’s acting. His sunken eyes are dilated and he’s shaking so much that I swear he’s gonna explode just standing here near me. He’s clearly on something, seeing the string of white powder under his nose...
“O-oh...I, ah…Oh! Oh my god!” I nearly shouted, just remembering what Gerard told me to tell this guy. Using my few years in theatre classes from high school, I immediately put on my best charade to look far more convincing than I must do right now. “There was an accident out on the road, and-and...some people are hurt badly! I need to use your phone to call an ambulance, quickly!”
“Oh...is that right?” he sneered, not showing an ounce of remorse for the fake people that got themselves in danger from the fake accident that I just made up, being the sociopathic cunt he is. Seeing the shit-eating grin on his face, he clearly finds this false yet tragic matter hilarious, the heartless bastard. “And I just so happened to be the poor son of a bitch you had to run to to ask for their fucking phone? Alright, fine. You can use the phone, but after that, get the hell out of here. Capiche?”
Wow. The assholery is strong with this one. This guy doesn’t really scare me like I thought he would. I’ve seen far worse than this before. Such an example is the dark and unpleasant side of Gerard Way...
Irvine walked away and back to whatever the hell it was he was doing at the dining room table, passively letting me inside his mess of a home. The whole place reeks of an insulting stench of beer and cigarettes, as well as what I can only assume is the foul smell of stale piss. There’s garbage scattered all around the place, as well as posters of naked women all over the walls. This place is nothing short of disgusting, just like the piece of sub-human garbage that inhabits it. Walking past the Irvine sitting hunched over at the table that’s scattered with half-empty beer bottles, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen to (not) use the telephone, and give Gerard the ok to do his thing when I see him outside the window. Now I really do wanna see Irvine get his own ass handed to him after seeing him in person, kinda…
Holy shit. Did I really just let that thought cross my mind? I actually do wanna see Gerard hurt someone? Is my mind fucking with me again, or am I turning into someone I thought I never would? What is wrong with me--
“Shit!” I yelped, feeling myself slip and fall on the hard tile floor, grabbing on to the end of the dining room table for support and sending it down with me, the wood and glass crashing against the tile floor. I guess I must’ve slipped on some of the spilled beer on the floor like an idiot. I also caused the contents of the table to spill all over the place, including what appears to be a white powder and some razor blades. In fact, it looks familiar, almost like the same powder that was on Irvine’s face--
“You motherfucker!” A voice growled violently as I felt a sudden hard blow to my head, sending me back to the ground flat on my face. I gasped, seeing an enraged Irvine towering over my now defenseless body, ready to beat the ever-loving shit out of me. Before I could back away, he punched me again right in the face, making me collapse once again as I felt a warm and stinging moisture escape from my nose and my head throb. He grabbed me by my hair, slamming my head again and again against the filthy tile floor as he continued to throw a string of cusses at me. “You son of a bitch, you fucking dumb cocksucker! I will fucking kill you, worthless piece of shit! I will fucking kill you!”
Oh no. I was right. I was right, Gerard. I knew I was gonna get myself knee-deep in some shit. I knew it. I fucking knew it! I’m in the shit for sure, and it hurts so much as he hits me again and again! Please help me, Gerard. Where are you? I can’t see anymore. I can’t get away, either! I am dying! That feeling from earlier is coming back to me, where it feels like I am dying. But now, I really am dying! I don’t wanna die! I don’t want this monster to kill me, just like he did to your mom and dad! Please don’t let me die, Gerard! Please, Gerard...please, save me! Save-
“Let go of him, you piece of shit! You don’t hurt him! Let go of my baby!”
I again stumbled to the floor when I felt Irvine’s hand let go of my hair, followed by my ringing ears hearing a conflict of exchanged punches and yelling take place in front of me. Struggling against my weakness, I brought my head up to find the man that just attacked me in an all-out fistfight with Gerard, who appears to have forced his way in through one of the broken windows, seeing the shards of glass cut into his skin. However, he doesn’t look fazed by these wounds at all. Somebody hurt his sugar pop, and because of that, he is pissed...in fact, really pissed. Now the person that hurt his sugar pop has to pay in blood, and lots of it.
“You son of a bitch!” Gerard screamed after being received one too many punches to the face, slamming the bottle of chloroform from earlier against Irvine’s head, the glass shattering to pieces against it and sending his whole body to the ground, knocking him out cold. That didn’t stop Gerard, though. His fists continued to go to town on Irvine’s unconscious body, his eyes wide and brimming with pure hate-driven rage at him for hurting the one and only person dear and close to him. “How fucking dare you hurt Frankie! How fucking dare you even lay a finger on him! Nobody hurts my baby! You are so dead! Do you hear me? You are so fucking dead!So. Fucking. Dead!”
After Gerard finally pummeled Irvine's face enough times, he stopped, his whole body panting with exhaustion as if it just finished running a marathon. All I did was stare in utter shock. He actually saved me. He physically saved me from getting my ass murdered. He actually protected me, just like he said he would. He defended me with every ounce of his life, throwing himself at Irvine for the sake of saving me from him possibly killing me. He is my superhero with no cape.
”G-gerard…,” I weakly called out as I stood up, wiping at the blood at my face. Like the weakling I am, I stumbled and began to collapse, the wounds inflicted upon me weighing me down. I am so lightheaded that I'm on the verge of passing out. I can barely even feel my own legs failing to hold me up on my two feet.
”Frankie!” Gerard hollered, rushing to my aid and catching me before my body could touch the floor once again. Scooping me up on his bleeding arms, he held on tightly to me, cradling me like I'm his one and only child. He brushed my bangs away from my face, grabbing a cloth from his bag and began to wipe at the bloodstains on my beaten self. I don't think any of the wounds on my face could even compare to the genuine turmoil and worry on his face though, seeing the tears run from his bloodshot eyes. “Oh, my baby...my poor baby is hurt! I let that monster hurt my baby...I'm so pathetic!”
”Gerard...I'm so sorry,” I said with true remorse, knowing that my clumsiness faltered his plan, and because of that, it almost costed me my whole life. “I fucked up, Gerard. I didn't mean to-”
”No!” Gerard cried, shaking his head violently, his grip on my body trembling. “It's all my fault, Frankie! I'm such a fool for putting you in danger like that. I almost got you killed! I'm the one that should be sorry. I told you I would protect you...and it’s safe to say that I fucking failed! I almost lost you to him, just like what happened to...d-daddy and…m-mama!”
Giving in to his immense guilt, Gerard buried his face into my chest and wept, still holding on to me with his dear life. It's like I'm the one and only thing that he has left that gives him life, and he almost lost it forever. But he didn’t. He saved it, unlike what he was able to do for his mom and dad all those years ago. He managed to salvage the one and only thing that keeps him from losing his whole self.
“Don’t cry, Gerard. You saved me. You saved my life!” I said, stunned that such a thing actually happened. I don’t wanna see Gerard cry again. I actually want him to be happy that he didn’t lose another thing so precious to him, because he’s already lost too much. He spared me from a death that I wouldn’t even be satisfied with going into the afterlife, if such a thing even exists.
“I know I did, but I had to,” Gerard sniffled, wiping at his eyes as he resumed tending to my wounds with some first-aid stuff he pulled out of his bag. “I’m the one that got you in grave danger...and I was the one that had to pull you out. How could I be so careless? I’m so pathetic for doing such a thing to you! How could I ever live with such a thing, knowing that I actually had the audacity to do that to someone precious like you? I’m such an idiot!”
Gerard slammed his fist hard on the wall, the impact of the loud bang echoing throughout the house and sending chills down my spine. He then turned and glanced over at the unconscious Irvine, his body sprawled out on the kitchen floor, broken glass shards protruding from his bruised and bloodied head.
“Now you’re really gonna get it, you degenerate pile of filth! There’s a place worse than hell that awaits you...and I’m gonna drag you there!” Gerard growled, venom spewing from his hateful glare as he eyed his fallen prey. He snorted, a wad of mucus and spittle projecting from his mouth and on to Irvine’s face, then proceeded to give it a good solid kick before turning back to me, his eyes still wide and bloodshot with homicidal wrath.
“You sit and rest, sugar. I’ll get you some bandages and gauze for your wounds. I’ll also get this place cleaned up. After that, I’ll bind and pack up this piece of shit dubbed Irvine at my feet, then we’ll leave with it to the warehouse. Got it?”
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded silently, keeping myself quiet. I stayed that way throughout the whole ritual of the cleanup and binding and dragging of Irvine to the car trunk, as well as the ride to the warehouse Gerard, as if it were all a moment of silence for the remaining sanity within the both of us that’s about to be lost when we reach our next destination, that being Gerard’s torture chamber and former home.

Notes