october challenge | frerard | ✔️

fourteen - hunt

fourteen: we're gonna find him

Blood, everywhere. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurring as he fell into the wall behind him, crumpling at Gerard's feet.

"You got one more moment of consciousness to tell me where the fuck he is," Gerard hissed and kicked at the man who lay nearly dead at his feet in the pale moonlight. The man looked up, not missing the sharp angles of Gerard's face that send unpleasant shivers down his spine. It was safe to say that he wasn't scared because he was basically dead, but the eeriness that surrounded the man didn't ever make anyone feel better about dying.

"I w-wasn't lying," the dying man rasped. "Boss don't tell us shit about w-where he p-p-puts his hostages."

"Fucking liar," Gerard mumbled and kicked the man in the stomach again, smiling painfully when he heard the crunch of already abused ribs beneath his feet and the groan of the man before he took his final breath and collapsed completely. When he was sure the dead man was dead, Gerard reached inside his trenchcoat pocket and pulled out the manilla envelope and slipped it into his own coat pocket. Fucking traitors.

"I trusted you," Gerard spat, and then without another look at the man, he turned around and exited the alley to where Bob and Ray were waiting in the safety of the getaway car.

As soon as he slipped into the backseat, Bob--quietly--floored it, and they sailed away through the backstreets of New Jersey on the way back to their house. Since the hunt for Frank had begun, they'd all been rooming. Ray and Bob were good to room with too, and Gerard was grateful that he had good friends, but he'd rather room with his lover, and not his two best friends.

He clutched the manilla envelope in his hands.

"You got the files?" Bob asked gruffly, not looking back from the road.

"Yeah," Gerard croaked. "I got 'em."

Ray smiled. "I'm glad. And that'll tell us where to go, right?"

"I hope so," Gerard grimaced and bit his lip anxiously. His heart raced, and he ached to look inside the envelope, but he knew he had to hold off on it--it was no use trying to read in the dark of a car in the middle of the night in New Jersey no matter how bright the moon was.

"How, um..." Bob began, and then caught Gerard's eye in the rearview mirror. "How long has it been?"

"Three weeks, two days," Gerard replied. "Well, three if you count today as being over."

"I'm really sorry, hon," Ray murmured, and Gerard put his head down to hide the tears that'd pooled in his eyes and clutched the file even tighter. When he realised he was holding on tight enough to crumple the pages, he loosened his grip, but couldn't find the heart to let go even long enough to do up his seatbelt.

But it was alright. Bob was slowing down and they were pulling into a parking spot, and Ray and Bob were getting out and a door was opening, and cool air was rushing into the car. Gerard got out shakily and clutched the file to his chest, following the other two men up the stairs and into the elevator and then into the apartment and then into the kitchen where the light was turned on and a cigarette was pushed into his fingers. Bob opened the window and closed the door so the smoke would drift out of the apartment, and then Ray gave all three of them a light.

"Gee, you should put it on the table. We can read it tomorrow, alright? And then we'll decide what to do from there," Ray said and rubbed a hand on Gerard's back.

He looked up. "Promise you won't read it without me?"

"You'll be the first to open it up. Promise," Bob said, and Gerard's eyes widened at his gentleness. He almost didn't believe him.