Trust me, I'm okay. (Frerard)

Chapter Twelve: Stage 4 Fear of Trying

A/N Hey guys!!! I was looking through comments and stuff on this story and I realized it had 1.31K reads!!!! Thank you guys so much for reading and voting and all the lovely comments, you guys are so awesome!! I'll be updating "The True Lives of My Chemical Romance" soon, I promise! Follow me on Instagram, @frank.ieros.pants I always love interacting with you guys!!! So without further ado, let's start this chapter!!!! /////Also, trigger warning. I'm sorry guys, please don't hate me!/////
Gerard's POV:
I sat in my dark room. Bandages wrapped around my wrists. I looked at myself in my cracked mirror. I can't believe what I said to Frank. I mean, I wanted to die I really did, but at the same time I'm so in love with Frank, but does he love me the same way? Would he even care if I died? Of course he would. That's why he saved me, right?
My thoughts were interrupted by my bedroom door opening.
"Hey Gee, are you okay?"
Mikey.
I sat on my bed and sighed, Mikey setting down on the floor in front of me.
"No Mikes. I'm not okay."
"What happened Gerard... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"It's okay Mikey, and I fought with Frank." I was cautious with my words, not wanting to start an argument with my brother.
"About?"
"I yelled at him because he saved me. He took away the death that I longed for."
"God damn it gerard. Don't you realize how much Frank loves you? The way he looks at you... there's love and lust and admiration in his eyes.. gerard he can't live without you. Make up with him? Please?"
I thought about what Mikey said.
He did love me. He needed me here.. but I can't hurt him. I can't hurt Frank. I'm so pathetic and weak I can't hurt him.
"I'll leave you alone now gerard.. but please make up with Frank." Mikey slowly exited the room shutting the door gently behind him. I lay down on my bed and stare on the ceiling, pressing play on my ipod, "depression" by Black Flag comes on and I think of Frank. His tattoos. The black flag symbol neatly placed on his arm as if it was made for him.. the rich black ink contrasting against his olive skin..the way Franks hazel eyes glinted when he was happy.. The bruises. The bruises on his neck shaped like finger prints. I hope he was okay.
I drifted to sleep thinking of Frank, not about forgiving him, I just thought about how much I love him.. I can't live without him.
Franks POV:
I slipped in the front door of the house, I could hear the hum of the T.V in the living room. As quietly as possible I crept up the stairs. I heard my "dad" get up, and all shit went to hell. I flew up the stairs and shut my door, going to lock it when I realized the lock was gone. I backed away from the door falling back against the wall.
"Frank where the hell have you been?"
"I've been out."
"Where? With that faggot boyfriend of yours?"
My face went pale. I could feel myself getting hot in the face.
"N-no." I stuttered out, obviously not being very convincing.
"Hmph. You faggot you deserve what your gunna get." He grabbed my shirt collar and pushed me up against the wall, my feet no longer touching the floor. He smelled of rum. He gave me a quick punch to the stomach and a slap in the face. He picked me up even more and threw me against the wall. Adrenaline coursed through my body as I stood back up, attempting to punch him back.
"Wrong fucking move." he said as he grabbed my hand and twisted it back, an excruciating pain in my wrist. I let out a cry of pain. He punched me a few more times and left me in my room with a bloody nose and fractured wrist. Blue and purple bruises began to litter my skin. I lifted my shirt and grimaced at the greenish purple bruise in the center of my stomach.
I thought about Gerard. I thought about how much he hates me now. I thought about my so called dad, I lay on my bedroom floor, I could feel salty tears pouring into my mouth. Slowly moving from my floor to my closet, I yanked the door open clutching my throbbing stomach. I pulled out the bottle I was looking for, the sleeping pills. I smiled at the white pills in my hand. Now I could sleep forever. Pouring pills into my mouth I began to feel the effects immediately. After finishing the whole bottle, I slept on the floor waiting for my eternal sleep.
(A/N at this point I thought about ending it with a cliff hanger but I'm not that mean so I'll keep going :D)
Mikey's POV
I walked through the cold air, wind blowing and biting at my face as I walked my way to franks house. As I approached, I saw a drunk looking man get into a car and speed away. Worried, I sped up my pace to Franks's front door. I knocked. After five minutes, nothing happened. I knocked again. Another five minutes. Being the idiot I am, I tried the door. I turned the handle and heard a 'click' as I pushed open the door. Walking quietly I marched up the stars to be confronted with three doors. One was obviously not Franks room, perhaps his dad's. I came across the next one to find out it was a closet, leaving the last door at the end of the hallway. I slowly opened the handle, terrified of what might be lying on the other side. Instead, I just say a bloody and bruised Frank laying on the floor, a little orange bottle clutched in his lifeless hand. I went pale. I fumbled over to Franks side, as I got closer I could hear his breathing. I fumbled in my grey coat pocket to find my phone. I flipped the screen open and dialed the all to familiar number. 911.
A/N
This was vital to the plot I promise please don't hate me it will get better I promise :D