Kill All Your Friends (Frerard)

Bulletproof Heart

"So I'll see you tomorrow at school?" Frank asked Gerard as he was unbuckling his seatbelt. The older male paused his movements, looking over at Frank.

"Yeah," he answered. They stayed there for a few moments, sitting in the silence with one another.

"Um, hey, let me see your phone," Frank said, holding out his hand. Gerard handed it over, knowing what he was going to do. He watches as the man puts his number, takes a picture of himself, and then hands it back to him. He glances down at the screen at his newly added contact.

Frank :)

His phone had only consisted of five people (now six with Frank added): his mother, his father, Ray, Bob, and Mikey's old phone number. It was disconnected now, but Gerard had it safely tucked away in his dresser. He still hadn't turned it on, afraid of what he'd find or who. Gerard had always had a fear of finding out who caused this, because he wouldn't know what he'd do. Moreover, he was afraid of what he would do. He shook the thoughts away as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"If you ever need anything, I'm just a phone call away now," Frank said as Gerard got out of the car.

"I appreciate it, really. Um, drive safe," he said hesitantly. Frank gave a smile back as he closed the door and didn't drive away until he saw Gerard walk inside. On the drive home, he thought about the cliff. About how, one day, he hoped to get past it. His father had the same dream, but killed himself before he could. Ever since his father did it, he thought about it often. Maybe if he did it, he wouldn't have to worry about getting past that bridge. He could just... be. That's truly all he wanted. To just be.

But, now, he couldn't think like that. Ray was right. He'd wormed himself through the wall Gerard had built around himself and he couldn't leave him. Now that Gerard trusted him and confided in him, he couldn't leave, especially in the way Mikey had. It would be cruel.

Gerard, after entering his home, found it surprising that both his mother and father were in the living room watching television together. They paid him no mind as he walked up to his and Mikey's bedroom. He still found it offensive that they hadn't really looked at him since Mikey's burial. That day was something he liked to keep out of his mind. He gritted his teeth as he remembered how the dirt covering his casket felt against his nails. It was torture. No matter how many times he cleaned under his nails, he still saw the dirt that wasn't there.

He stripped and redressed into his pajamas that used to be Mikey's. Since he lost a lot of weight, he found that he could fit in Mikey's clothes. Upon opening their dresser, he glanced at his brother's phone, once again tempted to turn it on. He refrained from doing so. Even though he was gone, he still had to respect his little brother's privacy. He missed his brother dearly. So much so that he found it suffocating. The pain of wanting to see him but knowing that he will never be able to sent a rush of anxiety through him. He felt his face become numb from its center and he began to panic. His breathing became panicked and he felt weak, almost.

"Mikey," he breathed, "Please come back." He felt as his tears spilled and ran over his cheeks. His breathing caused a headache and a slip from reality to pull at him.

He grabbed at his dresser and handle and struggled to pull out his box. They fell from his hand and he looked down at all the blades scattered across the floor. He sunk to his knees and wailed into his hands. He screamed and screamed until his parents came up and shook him.

"Gerard, baby, what's wrong? Talk to us!" His mother spoke. He pushed her away.

"Please, we're here for you," she said spoke again.

"No," he sobbed. "Where were you when Mikey and I needed you? Where were you when he killed himself?" He yelled. He noticed them flinch.

"Stop running from it! He killed himself! Where have you been for the last nine months when I was drowning in my own guilt? You've both just been letting me so you wouldn't have to admit that it was your fault!" He screamed. The room became silent after those words left his mouth. He finally said it.

That day, Gerard informed his little brother that he needed to stay after school to finish an art piece he'd been working on, but then assured him that he wouldn't be alone for more than ten minutes before his parents came home. They were set to come home early that day.

Whenever the ambulance arrived, they said his body was still warm. That he couldn't have been gone for longer than fifteen minutes, but they couldn't bring him back even though they tried. His parents were four hours late, and Mikey waited for them excitedly only to be let down. He died alone in an empty house and no one knew why and no one would ever know. He died with none of his goals reached. He wouldn't fall in love, get married, have kids, have grandkids, or die old in his bed surrounded by people who loved him. Gerard would live the rest of his live going around thinking to himself "Oh, Mikey would've loved this..." rather than "Mikey will absolutely love this! I'm going to surprise him with it!" No more would Gerard be able to see his brother's excited face whenever he came into his view. He wouldn't be able to be next to him all the time anymore. That was something, he felt, they always had to live with.

"Just get away from me. You were never here before. Why change now?" He mumbled as he curled up against his dresser.

"We're trying to change," his father said.

"I wish you could've decided that last year. Maybe we could've been one big happy family, but it's too late for that. Just get out," he whispered. After is parents left, he cried again. He cried until his head was pounding. He'd do anything to be with his brother again. Anything. He looked over at the blades and reached for one. He pressed the cold metal against his skin and held it there.

No. Call Frank, something told him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the man with little hesitation.

"Hello?" Frank answered, Gerard felt his tears well up against and he let out a chocked sob.

"Gerard? I'm on my way. Stay on the line," he said. He heard a lot of cluttering on the line. "Mom, I need your keys."

"What's wrong?" Gerard heard his mother ask.

"He needs me," Frank answered with no hesitation.

"Be careful, honey, your father would be so proud," his mother answered. Even though Frank had no one to hold like he held Gerard, he had a wonderful family. One day, he'd ask him what his father was like.

"Gerard, are you still there?" Frank asked. He gave a grunt in response.

"I'll be there in two minutes." Lost in his thoughts of wanting to be reunited with his brother, he almost didn't hear the yelling downstairs.

"Who're you?" He heard his parents ask.

"I'm Frank. Friend of Gerard's. He needs me right now, so if you'll excuse me," then he heard his bedroom door burst open. He watched as Frank hung up his phone and, quicker than he thought to be possible, picked up all of his blades and then throw them out his window after opening it up.

"You don't need those, Gerard. I'm here now," was all Frank said before embracing him tightly after dropping to his knees next to him. They stayed silent like that for a moment before Frank spoke again.

"It's okay to cry, you know. It's just me in here," he said softly. Gerard buried his face in the crook of Frank's neck and sobbed until he couldn't breathe. The younger male rubbed his back soothingly as his other hand played with Gerard's red hair.

This man, Frank thought, was someone special. It was odd to him. He felt like he could fall in love with Gerard. Maybe it was because he felt needed whenever he was with him, and that was a selfish thought. As wrong as it was to admit, Gerard was a sad story and Frank wanted to be the person who helped him smile and laugh again.

Frank held Gerard well into the early morning. When Gerard stated that he was getting tired, Frank suggested they move onto the bed. They fell asleep with Frank's arm around Gerard's shoulder while the older man rested his head on Frank's chest and clung to his shirt, afraid of being let go.