K-12 | Frerard

chapter sixteen

Frank quickly turned back into himself, taking deep breaths now that the corset was gone. Fuck, how did girls BREATHE in those things? He felt a small prick of guilt as he moved Jamia's limp body into a closet (the very last place she'd ever be, he realized) and shut the door. When he'd tried to transform into "Jamia's dream soulmate," he sure hadn't been expecting a girl. It was sad – Frank wished Jamia could have been herself and found love, and not be constrained by all these rules. And now she was going to die in the closet.

Literally.

But really, it was Jamia's fault. A small bracelet enchanted by her father wouldn't last for very long, especially now that her father had died.

Just like we all will soon, if I don't get us out tonight.

Closing his eyes lightly, Frank tried to communicate with Gerard. However, that bracelet had seriously fucked up his powers. He couldn't read minds right now– much less search a school and talk across it.

Looks like he was going to have to do some walking.

The universe had other plans, however, as Jamia's office door was suddenly blown open, and a very angry looking Gerard stood in its place. His first expression when he saw Frank was one of shock – and then fury.

"Get out of him, you bitch!" He shouted, anger clouding his gaze. "Get out of Frank's body!" Gerard made a dive for Frank, and Frank leapt to the side, leaving Gerard to crash into Jamia's desk. There was a loud clatter as inkwells and paper weights fell to the ground and shattered.

"Gerard!" Frank cried, confused. "What are you doing?"

Gerard stood up slowly, shaking his head slowly and jabbing a finger at Frank's chest. "You're not Frank."

Frank stood silent, dumbfounded for a moment before finding his words. "Gerard, it's me. Is everything okay?"

"Fucking lies!" Gerard screamed, hitting Frank, who tried to duck. He was half successful in his dodge, and Gerard's fist connected with his shoulder rather than his face. It still hurt like fuck, though.

"SHIT, Gerard!" Frank gasped, clutching at the injury. He tried to heal it, but it wasn't working. "What the FUCK."

"I know it's you, Jamia!" Gerard hissed. "You piece of shit! Killing Frank did nothing, he'll come back soon! Taking his body won't give you his powers. We're freeing the school, whether you like it or not."

"It's ME," Frank shouted. "I'm Frank."

Gerard laughed coldly. "If you're Frank, then where's Jamia?" He scoffed. "And why don't you just use your powers to get out of this hot mess?"

Frank pressed his hands to his head. He felt empty and cold – he couldn't hear Gerard's thoughts, they couldn't talk, he'd have no way of proving anything.

Jamia is in the fucking closet. I can't bring her back or she'll ruin everything. I don't know if I could bring her back even if I tried.

"What about in our room?" Frank began, but Gerard cut him off. "You told us about the damn cameras!" He snapped. "That doesn't mean anything! You have two fucking seconds to prove that you're Frank before I kill you!"

Frank felt an invisible pair of hands grab him, pinning him up against the wall painfully. Gerard strained to keep him there as he kicked his legs. "Can't you read my mind? Can't you see it's me?" Frank asked, grabbing Gerard's arm. Gerard tore it away. "No," He said. "You've done something to it. I can't hear anything."

Frank shut his eyes, shrinking away from Gerard. The golden band that had bene blocking him from using his powers must stop them from working on him, as well. Frank was trapped. There was nothing he could say – nothing he could do – that Jamia wouldn't have been able to see on camera. He had no powers, and he couldn't bring Jamia over to explain for herself that she was in fact in her own body.

Did Gerard really thing Jamia had killed him?

Why couldn't Gerard tell it was him?

This couldn't be real, it couldn't be. It had to all be a bad dream.

Frank paused, blinking. Dreams. Jamia wouldn't have been able to see their dreams. Taking a shaky breath through the pressure on his neck, Frank opened his eyes. "In your dreams," Frank said slowly. "You're always in a blue room, with plants on the walls."

Gerard glanced at him, confused, and Frank continued. It was hard to think with the cold wall fighting his back. "And – And sometimes Mikey is there, and one time when we were in a dream together, you threw a bottle at me, and it was uh – it was," Frank trailed off, and the grip on his neck loosened, and Gerard sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Lube," Gerard finished for him, chuckling un-humorously. "Frank what the fuck has been going on."

"You tell me!" Frank said, rubbing at his throat. "I'm over here trying to save the school and you walk in and start beating me up!"

"I did not beat you up," Gerard frowned, holding Frank's shoulder lightly. The pain dissolved instantly, and Frank let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Jamia's in the closet," He explained, and watched as Gerard opened the doors with a flick of his wrist, revealing her limp body. A very unnecessary told you so flashed through Frank's mind, and he knew Gerard heard it.

"Come on," Gerard nodded. "Let's go get everyone out."

Frank didn't move. "Uh, I think you mean 'sorry, Frank, for thinking you were Jamia and throwing you up against a wall and punching your shoulder,' right?" He said quietly, making Gerard look back at him. Instead of saying anything, the boy took Frank's face in his hands, kissing him lightly.

"That wasn't an apology," Frank said, but his voice was light-hearted. Gerard walked over to where Jamia lay, resting a hand on her neck for a moment before taking off the bracelet and melting it to liquid.

"Hey!" Frank yelped. "That's going to – She's about to –"

And just like that, the world was back in focus. Frank's powers were back. He could read Gerard's mind again, but he didn't have to in order to sense that Jamia was dead.

"Shit," Frank said weakly, and Gerard grabbed his hand, stopping him from walking over. Small bursts of sympathy and concern sparked off his hand. "It wasn't you," Gerard said quickly, and Frank shook his head. Drugs had killed Jamia, but it didn't help the guilt in Frank's belly. He should have been nicer to her –

There was nothing you could do, Gerard thought suddenly, and Frank wiped the tears away from the corners of his eyes. Fuck, this was not the right time to cry. I could have helped her, I didn't mean for her to die, Frank insisted, but Gerard shook his head.

Jamia's dead, and we will be too if we don't leave now.

Although he didn't want to agree, Frank knew Gerard was right. 

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