We Can Run, Or We Can Die [Frerard]

Six|Gerard Doesn't Smell Like A Basket Of Roses

"Oh, Bert." Gerard all but whimpered, abandoning Frank and rushing over to the newcomer, throwing himself into his arms and bursting into tears.

"There's water - oh." Ray stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, watching the two men by the hall, holding each other like they were all they had left. Ray wanted someone like that.

Bert held Gerard as he sobbed, wishing he smelled a little bit better for this reunion - then again, Gerard didn't smell like a basket of roses himself. And besides, he didn't know he'd see him again.

Gerard pulled back, tearful eyes running over the taller man's scraggly hair (on his head and face), and his hands were on his shoulders. He rolled his lips into his mouth, his hands moving up to cup Bert's face, and in one swift movement he slapped him.

"The fuck?" The elder cried out, as Ray hurried back into the kitchen and tried his best not to be a dirty little eavesdropper - but listening to other people's conversations was the only fun thing he could do these days, and maybe it was all he could do, what with the paper-thin walls and all.

"Where did you go?! Why the fuck did you leave?!" Gerard yelled, fighting yet more tears as he stepped back. "First Mikey, then you - how could you?!"

"Gee, please -" he tried to grab Gerard's hands, but they were kept out of his reach.

"I was alone for months, do you know how insane that drove me?!"

"Don't you think that I was going insane too?!"

"That's not the point, Bert! That's not - that's - that's not the point -" he broke down into fresh tears, allowing Bert to pull him close and hold him. "I fucking missed you..."

"I missed you too, Gee. I really missed you too."

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, and they were oblivious to Ray sitting by Frank, and they were oblivious to Frank waking up.

Frank looked up and saw Gerard hugging some black-haired stranger, and he frowned. Who was this dude, and why was he hugging Gerard? What was going on? They seemed close, and Frank's insides twisted with an emotion he refused to label, something that made him angry.

The stranger's eyes opened, and he looked straight at Frank, who glared. It wasn't supposed to be possessive, but it ended up being so, and Frank hated that.

Frank hated it all.

~

Night fell, and the four found some beds, and by some great coincidence, Bert and Gerard found themselves sharing, but it wasn't like anyone minded - except Frank, of course.

And the youngest of the four didn't want to be a pissed-off, antisocial pain in the ass, but he'd already decided he liked it so much better when it was just him and Gerard and he wasn't back-to-back with someone who Lindsey had tried to kill. It was selfish, but he didn't seem to care; nobody noticed him when everyone else was around, because there was always someone more noticeable, and maybe he didn't care that they were going straight to where Lindsey was, because maybe she could get rid of Bert the way she'd tried to get rid of Frank.

Only she could do a better fucking job this time.

While Frank was thinking about signing his own death sentence, Gerard rolled over in the creaky double bed, facing Bert in the darkness. The older of the two ran his fingers over Gerard's face, brushing his hair back and leaving his hand there.