Burning Bright [Frerard]

Wowza a decent length for the climax

The footsteps seemed to march on forever as they wound between the coniferous trees, sinking into the ground from the slushy snow that littered the ground. He was inspecting the prints when suddenly his face was in one.

He flipped onto his back and held his nose with his gloved fingers to bring it back to bearable temperature. "What the fuck?" He finally noticed the shadow over him. "You a cop?" The low voice asked as Franks eyes met his. The man had vibrant blue orbs that inspected the firefighter up and down.

"No," Frank answered as he stood up. "And if I was, you'd be arrested, leading one into the woods isn't a good idea." He brushed off his pants but it did no good as you can't brush off damp. Charles scoffed and crossed his arms, Frank wasn't a fan of this cocky attitude, only Gerard was aloud to give him sass.

He didn't expect him to grin. "So what, you want some drugs then?"  He asked as he started to make his way back to the house. Frank honestly didn't know what to do. He didn't have a plan he surly doesn't want to fight the very fit looking dude who commited arson.

"Umm... yes." He said as he watched the footsteps he had been following going the opposite direction. "Well whatchya want?" He asked going on about all the types he had but Frank wasn't listening. What was he suppose to do? Take the drugs and leave? No he needed to do something.

This time they walked in through the front door which was hanging off it's hinges. Frank followed Charles inside as he propped the door over the gaping hole. "Sorry..." Frank said, but he really wasn't.

"Ahh, no biggie bro." He wipped his hands on his pants and sighed. "Happens all the time." He smiled a stunning smile that Frank loathed. Why did Gerard downgrade? And why does that happen all the time?

"Alright the stuffs in here." He said, leading Frank into a very dark, sketchy room that he didn't notice before, but every room in this house was sketchy. He lingered in the doorway for a while and then finally entered the room when Charles became impatient.

All the sudden Frank was on the floor with an immense pressure on his chest.

"You think I'm fuckin stupid?" Charles sneered as his knee dig into Frank's breastbone. "You're too clean to need drugs." He snarled loosely wrapping his hands around Franks throat. He tried to turn his head but was only shocked at the sight next to him.

Boxes full of cocain, pills and every drug under the sun with even more piles of syringes stacked up the walls. Some nagging feeling in the back of Frank's brain finally made its way to the front as his heart beat sped up.

He was so fixated on Gerard that he forgot all about his addiction. Addiction. He never called it that. He didn't want to use that word. He didn't want to admit he had to rely on one tiny thing.

Gerard really did save him, and Frank saved him.

"Fucking look at me!" Charles screamed, only centimeters away from Frank's face that he now smelt the alcohol on his breath. His eyes were blood shot and wide as he wrapped his fingers around Franks neck harder.

This guy was fucking insane. Who new how healthy he was mentally but now the drugs finally kicked in. Who knows when he took them. When he was running from Frank? While they were walking? Was Frank really that oblivious?

"Now why the fuck are you here?" He yelled as he continued to choke Frank. Franks voice just came out as gurgles when he tried to speak and he clawed at Charles' hands.

"Oh well, you can't tell me?" He laughed menacingly, the smile sent chills through Frank's spine. "Guess I'm just gonna fucking kill you!" The amusement quickly turned into outrage, Frank saw the blue in his eye change from a cloudless sky into a tempest.

Why would you kill me? He wanted to scream, I could just leave right now! This guy is literally crazy and Frank can't tell anyone 'cause he's about to fucking die.

What should he do? He's seen plenty of action movies to know that his savior should be walking in through that door right now, but it doesn't seem like that's happening. His eyes locked with Charles as he could feel his life slipping away, air no longer entering his lungs. He tried to pry the sweaty hands off his throat but all his strength was gone.

A thought slipped through his mind, not a thought but a picture. His eyes rolled back in his head as he let go of the grimy knuckles and reach out next the him. Grabbing one of the syringes and stabbing Charles in the neck. Hard.

He couldn't hear the faint screaming, only feeling the relief of oxygen in his body again. He got up and stumbled for the door. Everything was going black and he was so close to fainting. He finally reached the door handle and pushed as his leg was weakly grabbed. He shook it off easily and slammed the door closed, sitting with his back against it.

He didn't want to open that door.

He could imagine the blood seeping from his neck all over the floor, creating a lake for the floating body. He hated hurting people, he was a firefighter, he was suppose to save them, and now he fucking killed a person.

He must've dozed off because the mext thing he saw was Gerards face and felt cupped hands around his cheeks.

Merry Christmas were almost done