Boys of Seclusion - 3

Gerard wanted to say something, maybe tell Frank that what he did wasn't right. Gerard was much older, and much... But then Gerard really thought about when he had seen Frank make his way from his backyard and into the house, when the sun spilled all over Frank's dark hair and when Frank slept and Gerard really couldn't object to Frank's kiss when he thought about how much he really wanted the kid to be happy. There was nothing to keep Gerard from wanting Frank to take back the moment that just happened. He stayed in his little post-kiss trance for a moment longer, Frank's whimpering shaking him from it.

"I'm sorry. And I know, ya know, that I apologize for like, everything, but I am really, really sorry. I know you're just letting me stay here because you feel sorry for me, and --"

Frank wasn't cut off by Gerard's hands on his jaw, but he was cut off by Gerard's lips pressing themselves against his. And Gerard couldn’t believe his sudden compulsive behavior, but he really couldn't believe that Frank hadn't pulled away, or that he hadn't either for that matter. Human contact, Gerard thought, right at this moment was possibly at its very best. Gerard had never kissed anybody before. Gerard had never held somebody's trembling jaw before. And Gerard had never had somebody grip his arm as tightly as Frank was at that very moment. This kiss, this human contact lasted longer than Frank's attempt had, mostly because Frank's vice grip was stopping all blood flow anywhere in Gerard's body and neither of them was moving. Their lips simply stayed pressed together, wet and barely open. Finally, Gerard pulled away in need of air, and to sort this out.

"I don't feel sorry for you," he whispered, only a few inches from Frank's knees. Gerard sat down and caught his breath. His head had never felt that light before, or that elated at once. "I don't. Feel sorry for you. That wasn't a pity kiss --"

"--Well neither was mine. Obviously," Frank interjected. He apparently wanted this to just go away. "I didn't kiss you because. Because I think that you just should because I don't fucking have anybody else. I kissed you because of what you said. It... Didn't it feel, like? Perfect to you?" Frank's hands fell to the floor upon his last question.

Gerard nodded. "I didn't plan it that way or anything. I just. I meant it, though. So, I wasn't lying. I'm really... I don't feel sorry for you Frank. I don’t know how the hell you're getting through all of this, but I admire you for it, man. I really don't know what I would do if I lost my family."

Frank shook his head, and scraped his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up a little bit on the side and at the top. "I'm not getting through this. I... I can't. I'm a... fucking orphan for Christ's sake," Frank said. "I don't know how I'm even sitting here now, but I know it has a lot to do with you."

"Me?"

Frank nodded once. "Yep. I don't... I mean. I had my mom there, and she was there if I needed her, ya know? If I needed to talk or whatever. Whenever I was ready, she would be there, and poof, I'd get to talk about my dad and just..." Frank stopped and Gerard watched as the kid swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a minute. Gerard reached out and separated Frank's fingers with his own, and held on tight to his hand. "But, I mean. Now my mom's gone too and." Frank stopped himself again and with the heel of his free, gloved hand, he wiped his eyes and held on tighter to Gerard making Gerard feel very much needed. "I can't talk to her now either... But then there’s you," Frank continued, a wet tear filled smile gracing the corners of his mouth. "And, Gerard you came up to that fucking tree house, and you hated it, and you didn't want to be there and you didn't even try to hide that fact, but. And then I fucked you up the next day, and... I don't know. You still want me around for some reason. But, I really think it's because of you that I'm like. Not with my Aunt Claire yet. So. Thank you," Frank took a deep breath and flattered his knees by giving them the attention that should have been Gerard's.

And Gerard just sat there, terribly stunned and feeling more alive than he had ever had. The lightheadedness might have still been from his first and second kiss, though it could have been from what Frankie had just said, or it could have been the fact that Frank was a bright shade of pink, but he was still crying. Gerard hadn't really realized until now that Frankie was actually feeling these things too - except, obviously so much more than Gerard was. The confusion and anger, pain and all the things that must have been running through Frank’s brain probably made Gerard's look pitiful and tired.

"You have nothing to thank me for, Frankie. Everything that I've done so far, whatever you needed, I did because I wanted to. I wanted to help you. I still do. I don't want you to be alone, because I know I wouldn't want to be alone right now either. I see a lot of me in you. I don’t mean I understand completely how you feel, because, damn, that would be a lie, but. I really. When I first saw you, like you said, in that tree house, I didn't know what to do. I knew what had happened to your dad, and I knew that my mom wanted to go over there and give you a fucking casserole, but other than that? I didn't care. You know? I can't go outside, I can't be near people. I don't know what it is about you, though. Maybe that's what I see in you and me. We're similar in the way that... We only need each other." Gerard held what little breath he still had left in his lungs, hoping that he had said something right. Gerard was never good with words or putting entire sentences together, and well, neither was Frank, but at least the kid had a reason. Gerard was an adult. Nineteen-years-old and he couldn't form a complete sentence. Maybe home schooling was a bad idea after all.

Frank smiled gently, almost not a smile at all and climbed his way into Gerard's lap. "Let me," he said and curled into Gerard's chest. And yes, Gerard let him.

Maybe not, after all.

"Ya know, Gerard? I think you're right. I think... I think that I only need you and nobody else. Okay? Just you and just here, this room. I don’t ever want to leave here, okay?" Frank looked up into Gerard's eyes looking for confirmation.

Gerard nodded. "Yeah. Just us."

Gerard felt his shirt begin to dampen, and he asked if Frank was all right, and Frank just nodded. "If you something, let me know, okay?" Gerard said, running his fingers through Frank's hair. He figured Frank needed to cry. Something even made Gerard want to. Maybe it was the whole idea that he'd just maybe admitted that he can be around people - person. Just Frankie. The idea of never leaving his room again and just having Frank beside him the whole time was possibly a dream come true. Though he'd never dreamed about Frank, but watching him get better, just because Gerard was there? That was a good feeling. One Gerard wanted to bottle up and just keep forever.

Frank eventually held on so long that he fell asleep right in Gerard's lap. Gerard huffed out a laugh and really was at a loss for what to do - for about three seconds. He picked Frank up like a baby, and carried him over to his bed, and laid him down. The boy stirred and sighed softly, but didn't wake up. Gerard sat next to him, the camper bed completely forgotten, but still set up, though Gerard really didn't know why. He covered Frank up and lied down next to him above the blankets and just watched. Gerard watched Frank sleep for an hour until he fell asleep too, exhausted from his own admissions, his own mind and from simply trying to not blink because he didn't want to not watch Frank sleep. Before Gerard fell asleep though, he slipped his hand under Frank's, their palms cupping each other's.

A knock on his door later is what woke Gerard up. He looked over at Frankie who was still sleeping and slid out of the bed to answer the door. Quietly, Gerard undid the lock and opened the door.

"Hi, Mom. He's asleep right now, so..." Gerard went to shut the door, but his mother held her hand out to stop him.

"His aunt is here, Honey. She wants to see him. Go. Wake him up," she said, and nodded towards the bed in the corner.

Gerard took a deep breath and turned around. Almost every part of him hated Frankie's Aunt Claire for coming over when she did. Frank hadn’t been asleep long and now Gerard had to wake him up and out of his contentment. He kneeled beside the bed and whispered Frank’s name so that he wouldn't frighten him awake.

"Hey..." Frank mumbled and grabbed Gerard's hand. Gerard didn't really hide his disappointment well. "What?" Frank asked, and picked his head up off of the pillow.

"Your aunt's upstairs, Frank; she wants to see you."

"Why? No. I'm. No. Gerard, no," Frank scrambled to the very top of the bed and flattened himself against the wall; hand still in Gerard's, except now he was shaking. "No," Frank said as if that closed the conversation.

"Hey, no. Come on, Frank, she's your family. You have to at least go see what she wants, okay? What if?" Gerard paused and looked back at his mother through the crack in the door. "Okay. What if I came with you? That way you're not up there by yourself. How's that?" Gerard asked. Frank sat still, and didn't answer. "Frank? Please? For all you know, she's just coming to see you, ya know? Just to see how you are. I'll come with you, okay?"

"Wouldn't you be scared?"

Gerard blinked at Frank. "Well, yeah, but. I. You need to go upstairs, so I'll go with you."

Frank shook his head, but got up anyway, grabbing one of the bagels before they went upstairs, Gerard's mother behind them. Claire was in the dining room, sitting at the table, sipping coffee. So it was still morning, but just barely.

When she saw Frank, she got up and hugged him, and then much to Gerard's disbelief, checked his body for any kind of wounds or bruises. "I was in Gerard's room, not a jail cell, Aunt Claire; it's more comfortable than you would think. What're you doing here?"

They all sat down and Frank finished his bagel before Claire began speaking. "Well, Frankie, honey. I have you enrolled in school now -"

"-No, Aunt Claire, I already go to school. Remember?"

She nodded, but continued anyway. "You'll be going to public school, Frank," she looked at Gerard. "I believe it's the school your brother goes too," she said as if that made everything all better. "Frank you'll be able to make friends and... Why are you shaking your head like that?"

"Because. I'm not going," Frank sat flatly.

"Frank, you have to," she sounded a little desperate, and reached across the table for Frank's hand. He moved it away before she could reach him, though, and found Gerard's hands under the table.

Gerard didn't want Frank to go to public school as much, maybe more than Frank. He'd finally found this one person who completely needed him and now his aunt was going to take that away from him. That wasn't fair. That was beyond being anything that anybody needed. Gerard looked at his and Frankie's hands and then back up at Claire who was still speaking. "After I called your parents' lawyers and made some plans and arrangements for your mother's funeral, I called the school, honey. You need to go to school. You start two Mondays from now. And you're coming home with me tonight. I can't have you bothering these nice people for very long," she said, motioning to Gerard and his mother. But, Gerard had the same idea as Frank: He didn't want him to go.

"He's really not bothering us, Ma'am," Gerard said hurriedly. "He's... really. It's like he's not even here. Don't take him away from me," Gerard blurted. He immediately regretted it.

"Don't take him away from you? I don't mean to be rude, but Frank isn't your family, Gerard. You should be old enough to understand that," she said, glancing at Gerard's mother. Gerard really could tell now why Frank didn't like this woman so much; she was rude, controlling and completely unaware of what people wanted.

"He's more my family than you ever were, Claire," Frank spat.

"You will use respect, young man," she said and pointed a very thin, very frail looking finger. Gerard looked at the top of the table, still holding onto Frank's hand under it. Gerard wasn't the one who shook; that hadn't happened yet, and now with the threat of Frank leaving him so soon, he couldn't control his own body. He was shaking, not as visibly as Frank, but he was still nervous.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Claire. I... I really don't want to leave yet. Can I please stay? Maybe one more night? Please? Mrs. Way doesn't mind, do you?" Frank looked helplessly at Gerard's mother, and even Gerard didn't think that was fair; she would give in to Frank's big eyes and they all knew it. "Please?" Frank begged. The room fell silent and Gerard inhaled and held his breath.

"You said you aren't going to public school?"



"What does that have to do with anything?" Frank asked, throwing himself against the back of his chair. Gerard squeezed his hand to calm him down.

"What if I told you that you can stay here until you're supposed to start school? But because you're getting what you want and then some, I should be able to get what I want, right? You will stay here, but then when you start school in two weeks, you attend and while you go to school, you’ll live with me. Understood?"

Frank looked over at Gerard who shrugged, because what else were they supposed to do? It wasn't the best compromise, but it was kind of like one. "That is of course, if Mrs. Way and her family don't mind keeping you awhile longer," she said. Gerard looked at his mother, pleading silently. If that was what they were being given, then it was what they wanted; what they were going to take. She nodded, it was fine.

"You'll go to school in two weeks, then, Frankie?"

"...I guess so," Frank replied, glumly. "But it isn't Monday, so we're going back downstairs," Frank said and stood up. Gerard followed, excusing them from the table and thanking his mother.

"That woman is a fucking joke, Gerard," Frank said when Gerard locked the door. "God, she's so... I can't leave you. I can't. Public school? Is she fucking serious? I don't want to leave you. You... I need you," Frank cried into Gerard's shoulder. Gerard wanted to cry too, but he couldn’t. He felt so utterly dry and just empty and even wondered how Frank was crying anymore.

"I know, Frank," Gerard said, because really, now there was just nothing to say anymore.

"Let's... Let's go to sleep, Gerard. Okay? And then when we wake up this will all be gone, and... And everything will be better," Frank said. He rushed his words, and pulled Gerard to the bed. "Okay? And then... Yeah. It'll all be better."

"Frank. No. I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," Gerard said, holding Frank's hand, holding him back. He had to explain real life to this kid, even if Frank's fantasy seemed way more livable than this life. Frank looked at the floor, and put his thumb between his suspender strap and his shirt. "You know that can't really happen, don't you?"

"Yeah. But. Can't we just sleep? Please? I like not being awake, and. I really just want to be with you right now, and fuck it; I don't even care if that sounds stupid or whatever. I really need you, okay? So. Lay with me? Please?" Frank asked, his fingers twisting around each other. He looked at Gerard with such helplessness and desperation that Gerard ached because of it. The least he could do was what Frank wanted. At least while they had each other.

Gerard didn't fall asleep, but Frank did. He lay on Gerard's chest, under his chin and breathed evenly, asleep. Gerard watched him and wished that this moment could last longer than the two weeks that they were allowed.

Gerard lie awake thinking of how much he seriously hated how quickly Frank's aunt had sorted things out. That was like a smack in the face for Gerard. He hadn't meant to, and three days ago he didn't want to, but he'd honestly fell for Frank, and felt for him. To have him taken away within two weeks was simply unbearable to even think about. He didn't want the only person he felt comfortable around to be taken away from him. Gerard had no idea where Claire lived, and didn't even like the idea of Frankie going to live with that woman, safe place or not. Gerard felt betrayed. How could he open his whole heart up to somebody like this and be with them and then just have them ripped away from him entirely? The sheer pain Gerard felt when thinking about Frank leaving him, he'd only read in books and seen on television. Things like this - people like Frankie, didn't exist in real life.

Some time that morning, Gerard's clock stopped, and he heard Claire leave without wanting to say good-bye to Frank. He rolled his eyes as he heard her sob. The woman really couldn't be that beat up over the fact that Frank wasn't going to say good-bye to her. She was getting her way in the long run. In only two weeks time.

Gerard stroked Frankie's hair, the boy still asleep and promised him that the two of them would be okay. And that they would be together. He had his doubts in the words he spoke, but just looking at Frank made Gerard want to believe himself. The utter contentment on Frank’s face when he slept, the calm on his face was just priceless and rarely seen. "We'll be okay. You'll be fine," Gerard whispered, pulling Frank closer. With his clock dead, Gerard pretended that Frank could sleep forever, and that nothing could touch the kid to harm him in any way. Not while he was asleep.

"Gerard?"

"I'm here, I'm..."

Frank looked up at Gerard with oversized puppy eyes and couldn't smile. His face was so etched with sadness that Gerard thought maybe if he looked at Frank too long his heart would actually break. "You're not leaving, right?"

"No. I'm not. I'm here," Gerard answered as Frank laid his head back down on Gerard's chest. "I wouldn't leave you, Kid."

"I know. I just. I'm like. I... I'm so scared, Gerard." Frank began to shake openly; his shoulder's trembling along with his fingers. "I really... I’m so afraid of what's going to happen to me. I can't believe Aunt Claire's making me go to school, making me live with her and be away from here. I... really like it here. Gerard, I don't want to let you go, okay? Just..." Frank scrambled up as far as he could shift and pressed his lips hard against Gerard's in some fit of desperation. His gloved fingers trailed a lines down Gerard's jaw making him weak, vulnerable. Gerard grabbed that hand and held it tightly, sending surges of bravery through Frank's body; he wasn't going anywhere. Frank's hand held on to Gerard’s, crushing the older boy's fingers together as he opened his mouth. Gerard gasped at the feeling, the cautious awakening, their tongues meeting somewhere in the middle.

Gerard couldn't help but feel mortal as he kissed Frankie. The things he was experiencing were real and once in a lifetime events and that only poured salt on the wound. It was bittersweet, being with Frank. It wasn't as if he was dying, and it wasn't like he was staying. There was constantly this cloud over their heads that nothing was right, and it just parted a little when they were together. Things were going south, they both knew that, and they both felt that in the kiss, in the way Gerard ran his hand up Frank's back, crushing the boy's thick hair between his fingers. It was needy, desperate and full of determination to make time just completely stop and maybe go away. Frank's tears running down both of their faces and into their mouths is what made Gerard realize just how much he could feel his heart beating heavy and hard against his own chest.

Frank tore himself away from Gerard, in the need of breath, but apologizing the whole time. "I'm... Jesus. Okay, so that wasn't supposed to happen. I'm and then you... I just. You promised and it just felt right and then it happened and you're like. You're," Frank rambled, pointing and just throwing his gloves across the room and picking at the skin on his index finger. This too, when Frank broke down and was just the child that he really is, that made Gerard feel something too. It was like he could never fully escape real life. Frank made him feel alive every second of the day. He was so full of fear and apologies. Gerard sat up and Frank pulled away.

"I'm not... Mad, Frankie. Listen to me. Come here. Come here, listen," Gerard pulled Frank's hand, getting his attention. "Listen to me. I... That was... I didn't mind that, okay? You're. You're hurting right now. I get that. But I don't. I don't know, Frank. I'm. I'm trying to understand and I'm really trying to help and god damn, I really can't tell you enough how much I want to keep you safe and just help you. You don't. I don’t even... It's just us, okay? Me and you, and whatever you do is fine, I'm not... I trust you and I... really care about how you feel about things and if... "

Gerard was cut off by Frank knocking him back over on the bed, kissing him hard, though it was short-lived. "Drop it. I just... Things disappear when I kiss you. Okay? Let's not talk about it. Please?" Frank's large eyes darted all around Gerard's face, that familiar feeling of being studied filling Gerard up like water, losing all his breath. He nodded. "Thank you," Frank said. The boy rested his chin on Gerard’s shoulder, and whispered in his ear. "I'm starving. Is Aunt Claire gone yet, do you know?" He picked his head back up, in search of an answer.

"Yeah, she's um, she left. Come on, we'll go get something to eat," Gerard sat up, making Frank sit back on his heels on the bed. "You okay?"

Frank nodded. "I don't know where my gloves went," he said sadly. His fingers held the back of his shoes, his head down.

Gerard looked around the room, no red catching his eye. He stood up, telling Frank to hold on, and went to the closet. "I don't think they’re in there, man," Frank said. He climbed down off of the bed and stood beside Gerard, who was rooting around in the closet. "What're you doing?" Frank asked, pulling on a black sleeve.

Gerard didn't say anything until he found the oversized hoodie he was looking for. It was a size too big on him and always made him feel comfortable and safe. It would be two or three sizes too big on Frankie, and hopefully that would be enough. He held the sweater out to Frank. "Put it on. It'll go over your hands for sure. Come on, put it on."

Gerard smiled a little, watching Frank slip the hoodie over his head and his prediction was right - the sleeves went well over Frankie’s hands, the hem coming close to his knees, but he looked just fine. "It's warm... and old." Frank looked up at Gerard. "Thank you," he said and wrapped his arms around Gerard's middle. "You're so good to me, Gerard. Thank you," Frank said quietly. Gerard put his hand on the back of Frank's head and huffed out a small breath. His heart swelled to an immeasurable size.

Gerard slipped his hand inside the sleeve of the hoodie and held Frank's bare hand inside the material, and let the excess cover his hand as well as Frankie's. They made their way upstairs where surprisingly nobody was in the kitchen. Gerard was relieved and let go of Frank. "Go sit down. I'm right here, okay?" Frank looked back at the table and looked back at Gerard and nodded. "Okay. Go sit down," Gerard nodded. Frank slowly made his way to the table and pulled a chair out.

"You boys should have told me you were hungry," Gerard's mother waltzed into the kitchen, and Gerard watched Frank fall out of his seat and to the floor with a thud. "Oh, Honey, are you okay?" Gerard's mother asked. She and Gerard helped Frankie up off the floor.

Gerard looked at Frank apologetically. "I'm fine. I'm... okay," Frank mumbled and sat back down, dropping his face in his hands. Gerard looked at his mother over Frank, and looked at her hopelessly.

"Um, Mom, we just were coming to get something to eat. Just," Gerard's hands flailed a little, at a loss for what to say. "I was going to make us something, but then you came in and... Would you mind? We'll go back downstairs and -"

"Actually, Claire left a key," she looked at Frank. She nudged him a little. "Frankie, Honey, since you're staying here, your Aunt Claire left a key to your parent's house so that you can get a few things while you're here," she said. Frank picked up his head and thanked her for the key and fell against the back of the chair. Gerard's mother sighed and looked between both boys. "Frankie, do you want Gerard to go with you? Gerard you don't mind helping Frankie get some things here, do you?"

Gerard shook his head, eyes wide on his mother. "No. It's fine."

"Well, good. You two go pick up a few things and I'll have lunch ready when you get back. Be careful, and don't be long, all right? You should probably go now. You two have been in that basement all night. You must be itching for a change of scenery," she said, ruffling Frankie’s hair.

"Now?" Frank asked Gerard.

"Yeah. Come on. We'll be quick, I swear. Just some clothes and your toothbrush and stuff, okay?" Gerard whispered, kneeling next to Frank’s chair, his mother pulling things out of the refrigerator. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Frank. And it'll just be us."

"I'm scared."

"I know."

"No. I'm scared," Frank glanced up at Gerard's mother, Gerard doing the same, wishing Frank would keep his voice level. "Don't let me go, Gerard," Frank said and pulled the sleeve up so that his hand was visible and he gripped his fingers around Gerard's. "Don't let go."

"I didn't plan on it," Gerard said with a smile. "Ready?"

Gerard felt awful for making Frank cross the street with him. He watched Frank chew on the sleeve of the hoodie like a puppy, his eyes big and wet with tears. His lip was bleeding already from only God knows what. Gerard's stomach plunged when Frank whimpered at the door, his hand shaking and wrecked as he stuck the key in the hole and pushed the door open. Something immediately felt off about this house. It might have been that Gerard had only been in here once, or it might have been that nothing at all had changed.

Frank stuffed the key into his pocket and let out a shaky breath. "Jesus Christ," he muttered.

"You're fine. Come on, we'll hurry," Gerard said, shaking Frank's hand a little, attempting to force that weak look in Frank's eyes. "Frank, come on."

Frank didn't move. He wouldn't. He wouldn't budge. His eyes went dark and wet. He didn't bother blinking out the tears, instead letting them fill up in his eyes. His whole body was rigid, standing there at the bottom of the steps with Gerard. And Gerard felt himself go cold. He squeezed Frank's hand as hard as he could and nothing; he didn't respond or wince, or cringe. Or anything. His jaw was clenched tight together, his eyes on the top of the stairs. Frank's breathing was heavy, and Gerard stepped in front of the kid with only one solution. Gerard kissed Frank, and hoped that this disappeared for the kid. All this pain. Just everything needed to go away. Gerard even needed it to go away. It was hurting him so much to see Frank hurting.

He held Frank's jaw until he felt it loosen, and Frank pulled away. "I can't do this. I can't, Gerard. I don't want to be here," Frank whispered, pushing his forehead against Gerard's. "This isn't right. This isn't right, I can't be here. They're not here. Don't leave me," Frank cried, clinging to Gerard's scarves.

"Frank, I'm not leaving you. I'm here, I'm here. Sshh. Calm down. I know this is hard. I know. But I'm here. You have me, okay? See?" Gerard took Frank's hands and placed one on his face and one on his heart. "Feel, Frank? Do you feel me? I'm standing right here. You're not alone," Gerard ran Frank's hand down his own cheek and pushed the boy's other hand to his chest. The tears were welling up quick in Gerard’s eyes, but he really needed to be strong and needed Frank to know that he wasn't by himself in this. "Okay? You're here, but you’re with me. This is hard, I know. I know, but Frank I'm here." Gerard pulled Frank's hands into his own and kissed his lips once more. "You’re okay," Gerard wished.

Frank nodded, and climbed the stairs with Gerard who felt as if he'd just thrown up. Being with Frank was one of the hardest things he could do, knowing he didn't have a lot of time to help him get better, and being in this house was just morbid and weird and just the very last thing either of them wanted to do. Frank scrubbed away the tears from the left side of his face and allowed Gerard to wipe away the tears from the right side of his face with less force. Gerard opened the door just as Frank's hand tightened around his own.

"This sucks."

"I know. Just. Um, here I'll help you put some stuff in this bag," Gerard said, because yes, this was one of the most undesirable things Gerard wanted to do right now. Even if he was with Frank.

Frank let go of Gerard, and helped him pack his clothes. Gerard kept an eye on Frank for a moment, just to make sure he was all right, and then continued to put things in the black bag. He stopped though when he heard the strings of Frank's guitar.

Frank was sitting in the circular chair, curled up with the guitar flat in his lap, running his fingers up the neck of the instrument, his other hand plucking the strings along the body. His head was down, his chin in his chest, brow furrowed. "I'm really not as good as Dad was," Frank mumbled more to himself than to Gerard, because he didn't know Gerard was watching him. "I'm, I only know a few chords. Barely. Um," Frank picked up the guitar and curled his fingers around the strings on the neck and strummed it awkwardly, an out of tune sound striking the near silence. "Nope. That wasn't right," Frank already sounded agitated by this, and Gerard sat down in front of him, kneeled in front of the chair. Frank's body was tense and tight, draping himself over the instrument. "I can get it. It's... I just can't get my fingers in the right place. They're too small. And fucking... They can't move right. All the skin is too dry, it's hard to bend them," Frank said and let out an aggravated noise through his nose and throat. He cracked his knuckles and loosened his fingers a bit, and tried again, failing this time too. Frank bit his lip, and whimpered as a drop of blood fell down the strings on the body of the guitar. "He'll kill me for that," he said, hurriedly wiping away the blood. Gerard came to an awful realization.

"Frank... He's not," Gerard started. Frank stopped him before he could get another word out, just by looking at him. "Gerard, he's... I need to learn how to play. This... isn't right. Mom's... Ya know? She'll be so disappointed."

"Oh, Frank. No..." Gerard tried to take the guitar away from Frank, but he held on to it too tightly. "Frank, come on. This isn't right. Let go," Gerard said, feeling his throat maybe close on him. Frank was so sad. This, all of this was just unbelievable.

Tears fell down Frank's face, because he knew this wasn't right at all either. "But, Gerard I have to practice. They'll be so disappointed. They bought the guitar. I have to do something with it. They'll hate me," he wailed. "That's all I ever was. A disappointment. They need to love me. I have to be good to them. Mom wants to see me play, Gerard. Let go. I need to practice!" Frank pulled the guitar away and pushed Gerard to the floor. He covered his face in his hands and cried hard. "Gerard? Gerard? Help me. Help me. They aren't coming back. They'll never watch me play. They'll never watch me play and I'll never be in a band and it'll be a disappointment," Frank groaned and bit his palm through the sleeve. He shook his head from left to right, possibly realizing the words he said were true. Gerard stood up and tried to hold Frankie, but stepped back when Frank kicked his feet out and threw the guitar against the wall. "No, no. Because they can't be mad at me if I don't have the guitar anymore," Frank yelled at the wall.

Frank jumped off of the chair and picked the guitar back up and threw it at the bookshelf, knocking it over, and breaking the neck of the guitar, a whole in the wall. He went over and jumped on the books and the instrument, yelling incoherent things and crying. Gerard hated that Frank became violent when he didn't know what else to do. The look on the kid's face was more than what nightmares were made of. So contorted in pain and effort and his large, child eyes grew full of fire and rage. His arms flailed around himself, stomping on the guitar and the shelf, screaming at the top of his lungs. "I hate you! You can't be mad at me. You left. You left first. Fuck! Come back, please come back! Dad, I'm so sorry. No..." Frank fell to his knees in all the broken wood and the remnants of the guitar and shook, holding back his sobs.

Gerard caught his breath, came out of his own fear of being hit and kneeled down next to Frank. He wrapped his arm around Frank’s shoulder, thinking that the boy would just fall against him. Frank didn't move. His head was on the floor, his legs curled under him. He didn’t move at all. Gerard's stomach plunged deeply into his knees, thinking that Frank had gone into shock.

"Frank? Frank?" Gerard panicked and rolled Frank over to see his face red and tear stained, biting his lip, turning it white. "Frank..." Gerard pushed the garbage out of his way and lay down next to Frank. He kissed his cheek and just held on to the boy. Several minutes went by, almost feeling like forever until Frank spoke.

"Gerard?"

"Yeah, Frankie?"

"Why do you think he did it? Why did you?"

"I'm... Not following," Gerard said cautiously, twining their hands together.

"Why do you think he killed himself?" Frank asked dreamily, almost like he wasn't there. Gerard felt the boy's hand tighten around his own, though and the question nearly scared Gerard to death.

Frank rolled his head to the side and looked at Gerard.

"Please don't lie."

"I wouldn't lie to you. Why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know. Just. Don't, like. Don't fucking sugarcoat it because you think you should," Frank sighed, and covered his eyes. "Just be honest. Why do you think he fucking did what he did? Why did you?"

"Frank, I'm not... I can't talk about this," Gerard said. And he couldn't. Talking about what he did, it wasn't easy for him. Reliving those things, not only during the day but in his sleep too was too much to stand as it was. To offer the memory up fresh images was like dangling a piece of raw meat in front of a tiger. It just. It wasn't done. He couldn't. Not yet.

"Why? Why can't you talk about? I won't say anything. I won't hit you again. I just really. I just thought," Frank bit his lip. "I don't know. I just don’t know what happened to him. I want to know," Frank said and kicked something at his feet. His voice was shaking and hoarse from screaming. "Why won't you just tell me?" Frank covered his eyes again and let go of Gerard.

Gerard's hand felt cold, empty without Frank's in it, or holding it. That feeling was so different, and yet familiar. Too familiar. Endless nights and days holed up in his basement, secluded from the world because his mind told him nobody was good for him. Constant battles, alone and cramped in his own head. The want of a touch, any kind of touch. And he's found that with Frankie, and he couldn't even tell him. Showing him may have been even harder if he didn't want it so much. He couldn't talk about what he'd done, though. Not yet.

"I can't, Frank. There. There are just some things a person can't say. And... This is my one thing. I do want to tell you. I really do. When I’m ready. Believe me; I would never want you to tell me something you're not comfortable with. I hope that you understand that. Frankie?" Gerard put rested his hand gently on Frank's arm, as to not disturb, but just to make the gesture. It just was needed. Some form of physical contact for once in Gerard's life was so desperately needed for communication that his head felt dizzy. Frank pulled his hands away from his face and looked at Gerard with intensely blood shot, teary eyes. And in that moment, Gerard felt his heart break. Maybe right in half.

"I'm so sorry, Gerard," Frank whispered, dropping his eyes to Gerard's shoulder, embarrassed. "I'm so fucking stupid. So... stupid. I'm, I shouldn’t have asked you that. None of this. It isn't your fault. Fuck," Frank took a deep breath and sat up. Gerard followed suit, only to have Frank almost knock him back over with a hug. "I understand. I'm just really not... I fucking hate it here right now."

And with that, Gerard helped Frank up off of the floor and carried the bag across the street, holding Frank's hand with his left one. It was something about being outside, being free for the mere minute with somebody safe and yet so weak at the same time that made Gerard feel indestructible. Or at least until a car came.

"Hi, Mom," Gerard said, entering the kitchen with Frank's hand still wrapped around his, only much more tight than it had been outside. Gerard dropped the bag by the door of the kitchen and kissed his mother's cheek, and let her hug Frankie as well.

"Oh, Honey, you look so tired," she said, glancing down at their hands. "You know what? Lunch isn't quite ready. How about you two go downstairs and get Frankie settled a little. I'll be down with something to eat," Gerard smiled at his mother. Maybe she understood that they needed each other. Maybe she was seeing that Gerard needed this kid more than he needed anything else. Of course, she couldn’t understand why, but she could at least see it; she wasn't blind.

"Thanks, Mom," Gerard said, and picked the bag back up off the floor. He led Frank to the basement where it was finally safe for them to let go of each other just long enough to lock the door.

"You okay?" Gerard asked, as he watched Frankie curl up against the bed and slip on the gloves he had picked up from his house. They were black and the fingers were missing, and had images of skeleton bones ironed on to the material. Frankie told Gerard that these gloves were his favorite because he couldn't pick his fingers apart enough to see the bone, so these gloves helped him feel like it anyway. Gerard was a little disturbed to know that Frankie's goal was to maybe one day have torn all the flesh from his fingers entirely, but was happier when he recalled Frank picking up two other pairs of gloves, one set of white with the fingers all in tact and another red pair with all the fingers except the middle ones in tact.

"I'm fine. I'm just. I feel sick," Frank shook his head. "I don't know. Dizzy, I guess. Probably from throwing that fucking tantrum. I'm just. I feel empty or... Like, like somebody stole my fucking soul or something. It's... weird," Frank said, looking directly at his fingers and nothing else. "I'm sorry if, like. I didn't mean to scare you or anything while we were over there. It was just so messed up being there. I don't even know what the hell happened to me. I broke that guitar though. Jesus. Come sit with me? Please?" Frank held out his hand and bit his lip. He looked up at Gerard with such apologetic eyes that it was hard, if not impossible to tell him no.

"You don't need to apologize," Gerard said, and took Frank's hand into his own. "If you're going to spazz, I mean, I get it. I'm not sure how you’re holding up, like I said, but. I think it's normal to want to break shit right now. It's scary as hell, but. I mean, I get it. Or I kind of do. Nobody in my life has died before. I can't even begin to imagine how much you're freaking out. But. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Gerard said. He rested his head on top of Frank's and felt the boy just ease right into his shoulder. The comfort that came from that simple gesture was enough to make Gerard feel like he'd made things better. At least for the time being.

"You know your clock's dead?" Frank asked after awhile, but didn't move from his spot.

"Yeah. I need to get some batteries -"

"No. Don't," Frank whispered.

"What? Why not?"

"I like not knowing the time. I like that I don't keep looking at it and thinking about how much more time I have here or whatever. It's easier to not. I just. Leave it, okay?" Frank asked as he looked up into Gerard's eyes.

"Okay," Gerard said, only no sound came out, so really, he only mouthed the word, his forehead meeting Frankie's. "So. Does that mean... Never mind," Gerard shook his head, feeling Frank's long bangs, brush his own head.

"What? Tell me," Frank's forehead wrinkled and he pulled away from Gerard a little. "Gerard? What?"

"I was just going to say that... You didn't want to fix the clock because then it would seem like we could just be in here forever, right?" Gerard cocked an eyebrow, because he had thought the same thing when he realized his batteries had died. Frank wrinkled his nose, but nodded anyway.

"Yeah. At least it's not corny or anything," he rolled his eyes.

"That's true," Gerard laughed. He bit his lip, feeling his face grow hot. The feeling of embarrassment, even around Frank was still present half the time. It wasn't like Gerard hated his company. He couldn't. That would have been impossible, but it was still a little awkward having somebody there. It was a good kind of awkward, though. "Yeah..."

"Are you going to sleep?" Gerard asked, picking his head up. He squeezed Frank's hand a little, and shook it. The gloves, despite their rather morbid history and cause were Gerard's favorite too.

"Are you?" Frank asked. "I mean. I don't. What do you usually do when you're brother goes to school?" Frank looked at their hands. "Because, I don't want to be in the way or anything. I just... Yeah, like pretend I'm not even here." Frank let go of Gerard's hand and scooted over a couple of inches. "I don't want to be in the way," he repeated.

Gerard slid his hand across the carpet and back into Frank's hand. "You're a lot of things, Kid. In the way isn't one of them. I like you... Being here. Um." Gerard paused and watched Frank duck his head so that the older boy couldn't see his face, though Gerard could tell he was blushing.

"So... Whatever you're doing today... I can join you?" Frank asked, and the excitement was more evident in his voice than the embarrassment after it. "I mean... Right?" He asked again, a little sheepishly.

"Yeah," Gerard answered. "Every so often I um, I go out and get some more paint and canvas paper... And. I was going to go out today. It’s not a lot of fun or anything, but I mean, it'll get us out of here for a little bit. You want to? Um, maybe after lunch?" Gerard stared at his knees while he spoke, because whatever he was asking felt like he shouldn't have been asking it. Or. Something along the lines of maybe being wrong.

"Yeah," Frank said. "Just you though, right? Your mom doesn't come with you or anything? It'll... just be us?"

"Yeah," Gerard nodded. "Just us."

"Okay."

A knock came from the door and Gerard quickly and gladly got up to answer it.

"Hi, Mom," Gerard said as his mother brushed passed him with more than enough food to last them the entire day and a smile on her face. Gerard shut the door halfway and sat back down on the bed. His mother stopped at the desk and picked up Frank's red gloves.

"How did these get over here? Oh, Honey, do they need washed? Did you get clean clothes from your house? I'd be happy to wash them, Frankie," she said, the maternal mother role so instinct by now with her own kids that taking care of one more was just second nature. Gerard smiled at Frank, bombarded by her questions.

"Um, no, Ma'am, they're all clean. Thank you," Frank stammered, folding his hands together under Gerard's hoodie.

"And the gloves?"

"What? Oh. Um, if it isn't any trouble, they do need washed. Thank you," Frank said, looking at everything but Gerard's mother. Gerard sent his mother an amused look.

"Um, Mom? I was going to go out and get some more paint and brushes. Frank was going to come with me. That okay?" Gerard asked, putting his hand innocently on Frank's shoulder when the boy was mentioned. He squeezed though, trying to get the kid to relax a little. Gerard only knew the tension and stress Frank was feeling with a new person in the room with them and he wanted to make sure Frank was all right.



"You boys don't want a ride? I can ride--"

Gerard shook his head. "I think... walking will be fine, Mom. I think we need some air. Just. That's okay, right?"

"Yes, fine. Just. Don't stay out too long. You know I worry," she said and kissed Gerard's head. "Eat first," she pointed to the tray of food on the desk as she held both of Frank's gloves in one hand. She then kissed Frank's forehead, smiled at the pair of them and exited the room.

Frank let out a long sigh, like he'd been holding his breath the entire time she was in the room. He dug his fingers into the carpet and pulled and scratched at it like a cat would. "I like your mom, dude, but. She doesn't have to be my mom too," he said and lowered his head. "That wasn't supposed to sound like that. I meant..."

"I know what you meant, Frank. It's okay." Gerard sat back down next to Frank after he locked the door, and wrapped his arm around the boy’s small shoulders. "She's just being a mom. That's all she can do right now. She wants you to be okay," Gerard said. "And so do I."

Frank shrugged, but Gerard could see him smiling. "Thanks, man."

After lunch, Gerard wrapped his scarves around his neck and bid his mother good-bye. Once outside, Frank didn't just take Gerard's hand, he linked their arms together and leaned into Gerard, making Gerard feel safer.

The commute to the art supplies store wasn't a long one, but with other people in the park or walking to wherever they were walking made Gerard feel sick. Public places and being outside just made him feel like he wasn't quite normal. The fact that he had Frank with him seemed like an open invitation for people to maybe strike up a conversation with them. It just felt like because Gerard wasn't alone, anybody could decide that he was approachable. He didn't want to be that person.

Inside the store was even harder, because apparently Frank hadn't been here before, and found the section with glitter to be quit amusing. Jars and jars and rows of glitter and the kid was just in Heaven. Everything that happened that morning was forgotten as Frank played with the displays of art that was made with the glitter. Gerard glanced at the woman at the end of the aisle and stood closer to Frank, feeling himself get hot, embarrassed.

"I'm really happy to see you so... distracted, but I need to get -"

"-Oh, right. You're brushes. Okay," Frank said, still looking at the red glitter in a twelve ounce jar. "Um. Sorry. They're all... shiny. Jesus, sorry," Frank mumbled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Gerard smiled at the sheer innocence of Frank's attraction to anything that was brightly colored or sparkly.

"Do you want one?" Gerard asked.

"What?" Frank asked, spinning a pinwheel with red and gold glitter on it. "What?" he asked again when Gerard raised his eyebrows?

"A jar of glitter. We'll get you the pinwheels too. Just. Just because," he said, and Frank was crumbling.

"Really?" Frank's eyes lit up, and Gerard hadn't seen that happen yet, and it was absolutely beautiful. And it was just glitter and origami on a stick. "Can I get the red? No. The rainbow. No... Um. Green. What're you doing?" Frank asked among his many different options.

"You said you wanted the red, the rainbow... and the green, right?" Gerard said, checking to make sure he had gotten all of them. "Now, get the pinwheels, we'll get my brushes and we can go," Gerard said and bit his lip. Frank just shook his head, and picked up a handful of pinwheels. Gerard couldn't really understand why he was blushing. But then he really didn't care, because Frank was on his toes, and kissing Gerard with a hint of a smile behind it.

"Thank you, Gerard," Frank whispered. "Just. Thank you."