Scandalous (Frerard)

Franks p.o.v

But, of course, my prosperity lasted about 12.5 seconds (figuratively speaking). It had been about a week since our little ‘sleep over’.
I don't know why, but I found myself in the middle of a drastic melt down, freaking out for no apparent reason.
I was sitting on my bed, the entire house empty, and Gerard was ‘working’ so I was completely alone since the first time I met him. Although I had grown a lot closer to Kendall in the past week I couldn't talk to him because he was out with Lyric.
I was still suffering from withdrawals and some post-traumatic stress but Gerard had always been there. We were practically surgically joined.
And when he had to work, Mikey was there, but he too was busy.
I guess it's better like that. People shouldn't have to deal with my shit.
Tremors racked my body, making it impossible to see straight or even pick up anything. The tears I hadn't even realised were forming, spilt over making warm wet tracks across my face. I force myself to get up, trying hard not to kneel over with how bad I was shaking. I make myself walk from my room, very slowing forcing myself down stairs.
Unfortunately, even when i'm not shaking so badly I can barely move, I had always been bad with stairs.
I found myself about one third of the way down when my hand slipped off the railing, sending me flying down the steps. It wasn't like it was in the movies, where you roll down, tumbling really.
But no, I only wish I could have fell like that.
Instead, I fall face first, and slide a couple of steps, leaving rug rash on the side of my damn face. Then, some fucking how, my legs managed to head up by my fucking head, making me do a scorpion. I didn't even know that was humanly possible.
That's not even the fucking end of it. It involved more rug rashed, a couple of bruises and a lot of fucking steps. Eventually I make it down, barely in one piece.
I start to walk toward the kitchen, but come in contact with an entertainment center type thing, knocking over a vase.
And some how I go down with it.
I let out a sob as I hit the ground, almost surprised by the blood that springs into the cuts on my hands and legs. I stay there for a moment, forcing myself to stop sobbing. When I manage to stop the crying I force myself up, barely managing to.
I walk to the kitchen, opening a cabinet, looking for apple vinegar. When I do find, I don't hold back on drinking it. I force it into my mouth, even though it makes me wrinkle my nose.
I manage to take at least three gulps of it before I physically can't with vomiting all over.
When I’m done I sink down to the floor, trying to make the tremors stop all together. Even though they do stop, I still dont stop feeling shitty.
My guess was that I was sitting there for about an hour before I got the bright idea to call Gerard.
I grab my phone out of my pocket, cringing when my hand brush a cut from the glass i fell in.
It rings several time before I reach his voicemail, finding it extremely adorable.
“Hey, uh, obviously i'm not available, so fuck off. Unless you're Mikey.” Then I hear the beep, making me take a deep breathe.
“Hey,” I breathe, my voice unsurprisingly hoarse. “I don't know why i'm calling, but I hope you're having a good day. I didn't...i didn't say it back, but I do, Gerard. I love you too. So much.” I whisper, my voice seemingly hollow. I hang up after that, trying to keep my emotions under control.
I force myself up after a little while, managing to limp to the downstairs bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, horrified by my face.
There’s a large portion of the right side of my face that's got rug burn on it, along with a scrape on my chin.
I mean, fuck, I was ugly enough but now this?
I sigh and begin to strip after making sure the door was long. I frown at my hands upon seeing at least three cuts on my hands from the glass. The back of my thighs are much worse, several cuts on each thigh.
I sigh and turn on the bath water, making it as hot as possible. I wait for it to fill half way before I get in, and when I do its scorching hot.
Normally I would love it, but between the cut and the nausea that isn't fading, i begin to hate it.
I turn the water from hot to cold immediately, cursing myself for doing it.
I just sit and relax, spending the majority of the time wishing I had a damn cigarette.
My mind began to wonder, making up scenarios in my head that would never happen. Most of them were bad, which consisted of me dying.
These thoughts occurred quite often. But this time it was different.
It was different because when i imagined myself doing something stupid like taking a bunch of pills, i imagined it was because Gerard and I had a fight. And when I imagined the pills kicking in, I whispered his name, apologizing. I imagined how torn he would be at my funeral because he loved me, and that he didn't mean those thing he said.
I imagined him being so sad he did things that i used to, and it was enough to set me off of the idea of dying.
I didn't want to die.
I didn't particularly want to be saved either though.
I find myself sobbing at the idea of Gerard ever doing things like I did. Had he tried those things before?
I hoped not.
When i open my eyes the water is a darkish pink color. I hear a door slam somewhere, and I assume either Kendall or mom is home.
Dad rarely comes home before nine pm.
“Frank?” Kendall's voice calls through the door. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. “Frank?” He asks again, his happy voice toned down a notch.
“Frank? Will you open the door? You're kinda scaring me.” He asks, his voice now slightly worried. My mind screams at me to say something, anything, but I can't.
“Frank?! Open the damn door!” He yells, making me close my eyes. I hear him slam his body against the door, trying to force the door open. Small tremors began to wrack my body, taking over my hands completely.
“Frank! Goddammit! Please be okay!” He yells through the door. The tremors continue, getting more spastic by the second. He continues to slam his body against the door, but then it stops.
Did he leave?
He probably did. He never cared.
But just as the thought enters my mind, its push away by the sound of his frantic voice.
“Mikey?! Get G-Gerard!”Pause.
“He’s- Franks, I don't know, there’s something wrong!”
Pause.
“Hurry, please! He’s scaring me.”
Pause.
“Just, be quick, I don't know if he’s okay!” He says, his voice unbelievably scared. I try to call out, but I can't. I hear his body slamming against the door again just as tremors wrack my body even harder, making my body rigid in the now lukewarm water.
“Frank, p-please,” Kendell sobs, making me open my mouth again. This time a choking kind of sound come out, but its small. Yet he still hears it.
“Frank?! Oh God, please be okay!” He yells, slamming even harder on the door.
“Whats going on?!” A frantic voice calls, and I immediately know it's Gerard. The tremors are so spastic i'm surprised they can't hear my body slam against the water and side of the bath tub.
“He’s- I don't even know! Just get the door open, please!” Kendall cries, making Gerard curse. Not five seconds later I hear another slam, and another, and another, each even harder than the last.
Until, finally, it breaks down. By now my body is shaking way to hard for me to see them properly, but I think Kendall is crying and Gerard is completely horrified. Mikeys face is scared, but calm.
Gerard rushed to me, trying to draw me out of the bath.
“Whats- what's wrong with him?!” Kendall cries, making me open my mouth again. I hear Mikey say something, but I’m to preoccupied with Gerard to bother.
He drags me out of the light red water, making my mind and body scream in protest. I cry out, and he seems to understand because he demands Mikey get him a towel.
Gerard wraps the towel around me, picking me up bridal style.
“My love,” He sobs, looking desperately at me. “What did you do?”
I grip his shirt tightly, looking up at him.
“I-i love-e y-you..” I cry out, my voice hoarse. He looks happy, sad, and terrified all at the same time.
“Mikey, get me some apple figure, gauze and some neosporin.” He demands quietly, taking me out pass the living room and into the kitchen. He sets me on the counter, lying down on my back. The counter was strong and sturdy, holdin me up nicely. Gerard stands beside, looking down at me with tears in his eyes.
Mikey returns, handing Gerard the items he asked for. I reach for the apple vinegar, making him hand it to me. I try to sit up, but struggle in my physical state.
Gerard notices and immediately helps me, supporting my head so I could drink. I take a couple of gulps before stopping, almost coffing it all up when I’m done. He hugs me for a couple of minutes, just until the tremors stop.
When they do, I’m quiet for a long time, as is everyone else.
“I love you.” I whisper suddenly, breaking the silence. He looks at me blankly before leaning down to kiss my lips, trying to to touch the wounded side of my face.
“I love you more.” He whispers against my lips, making me smile faintly.
“Not a chance.” I whisper back, making him smile softly. “I wanna go to sleep.”
“Okay, baby. But, um, first, do you, uh take anything?” He asks nervously, looking at me seriously. My eyes widen a little, before I spacticall shake my head.
“No! No, no, I didn't. It was all just...withdraws…” I state, looking him in the eyes. He nods soften, relief spreading on his beautiful face.
“Mkay baby, I just have to take care of your, um...wounds.” He says, gesturing toward my face and thighs. I nod hesitantly closing my eyes as I feel a wet cloth come into contact with my skin, making me cringe a little. I watch as Mickey heads off to the bathroom, presumably to clean up the bathroom.
He’s such great fucking person.
At Some point Kendall comes to stand by my side, smiling through his panicked state. He holds my hand as Gerard finishes, putting neosporin on my face and thighs. He gauses my hands and thighs up, finally finishing.
He then picks me up gently, making Kendall drop my hand, and begins to carry me upstairs. I’m still very naked, but have managed to cover myself up with the towel. He reaches my room, setting me gently on the bed. He goes to my dresser, grabbing me some boxers, sweats, and a black flag shirt.
He turns away so I can put the boxers on, but he helps me get into the sweat pants. My eyes are trained on his face the entire time, taking in his entire demeanor. He seems...calm.Clam and caring.
I didn't deserve it.
“I love you,” I say for the third time. I don't know why I was so dead set on letting him know, but I wasn't all that in control of my thoughts nor my mouth.
He looks at me,smiling a little, before pecking my cheek lightly.
“I love you too angel.” He says, smiling widely. I finish dressing, still clutching onto him.
“Wanna cuddle?” He asks gently, leading me to the bed. I nod eagerly, laying down beside him. He arms immediately go around my waist as I lay my head onto his chest, my body curled around his side.
“Just sleep, okay baby? I’ll be here when you wake.” He whispers, rubbing my back gently. I kiss his neck gently before closing my eyes, letting the dark take over.
*
*
*
I dream of him that night. His lips on mine, his arms around my waist.
I dream of an entirely different world, one where Gerard isn't a drug dealer, but a professional artist, and I’m a musician and we have two beautiful children. We have the perfect little house, set atop a hill with a beautiful small meadow as our yard.
And I see them all, I see Gerard playing with our children, spinning our little girl in the air, giving our little boy countless high fives as they run around.
And I have this dream countless nights after that, always the same setting, always getting the same feeling of prosperity and want.

Notes

Whyyyyy did I just write this...?
Whyyyyy did I made Frankie so sad?
:((((
xoxMay<3