In The Case Of Gerard Way (Frerard)

Chapter Fifteen- Bitchy Birth Giver

I walk down the street loosely holding Gerard's hand. We decided to walk to his grandmother's house instead of bothering Jamia for a ride. By the time we collectively finished cleaning up my spare bedroom and eating some food, it was already six o'clock. We needed to get to his grandmother's house by six forty five at the latest.

It's a good thing it's a small town. We get over to his grandmother's house in about thirty five minutes, at which point he loosens his grip on my hand and I try not to sigh at the loss of contact. He fumbles with his keys and unlocks the front door with shaking hands, just letting the door open inside and standing on the front porch.

I take the step and walk inside, standing in front of Gerard. "Come in, Gee, it's cold out. We'll let the heat out."

He looks petrified to even set foot in the house. "Come on, Gerard, you can do it."

I extend my hand to him and he shakily reaches out to take mine. I pull him in through the door frame as reach to push the door shut behind him.

By this point, we are extremely close. I take a deep breath and take a step back, trying not to let anything suspicious show. I clear my throat and cover up with a smile. "Not so bad?"

He gives me a faint smile back, visibly swallowing. "Not so bad."

"Okay. First, we should probably go get whatever stuff you want to take back to my place," I say. He nods, clearly not wanting to talk much.

"Where's your room?" I ask him. He points to the stairs, and I gently take his hand and lead him up there.

I figure that the door right in front of us is his room, since I can see a bed in there and it just has a very Gerard-esque feel to it. I slowly walk inside, looking around.

The place is messy, covered in clutter. There's many artist's tools on a small desk and clothes littered about. Various sketches are taped to the walls, along with plenty of band posters and vinyl cases. There's a pile of CDs in the very back corner, and CD player just on top of the dresser. He looks about sheepishly and heads to his closet, pulling down a large black suitcase.

"Sorry it's so messy," he apologizes. "Recently I only ever came in here to sleep, draw, or change. Most of the time I was downstairs with Nana."

"I don't mind it at all," I say, going over to sit down at his desk chair. "Take whatever you need. We can get boxes if we need to."

He bites on his lip and begins to move around the room, stuffing in clothes and jackets and things. He moves mournfully to his stack of CDs and sighs quietly.

"You can take them. I have a CD player at my house," I say. "Here, do you have any boxes?"

"Closet door just outside to the left," he mumbles quietly, beginning to look through the seemingly endless amounts of CDs. I go out into the hall closet and pull out a few boxes of various sizes, returning to Gerard's room. He's stacking all of his CDs on his bed, and I bring over a large box. I slowly begin I stack all of the CDs inside.

"Thanks Frankie," he says, sounding as if it rolls effortlessly off his tongue. I smile slightly at the nickname.

"What about your art stuff, Gee?" I ask him. He stops folding clothes into the suitcase and turns to me.

"Uh, yeah. Pack it all. Everything," he says, turning his face back to his suitcase. I put a box down on the desk chair and slowly begin gathering all of the pencils, brushes, markers, and various other tools into the box. I pick up a few of the sketches off the desk and can't help but look at them before I put them in the box.

"Wow... Gerard these are amazing!" I say to him. He looks up at me and blushes lightly.

"You think so?" he says. "Those were a few pages of a cartoon show I pitched to Cartoon Network a while back. They rejected it," he sighs. "It was really good too."