Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

House of Wolves

She lied.

"They all lied."

"Of course they fucking lied, what did you expect?"

"How you gonna run from this one pansy? All your escapes are gone now."

"You're MINE."

The voices were overpowering Gerard again.

But they did lie. Mom, Dad, Doctor What's-her-face, even fucking macho man over there...

He was referring to the large male nurse who stood like a silent guard at the door of the tiny room Gerard was left to wait in.

"...you can't trust anyone! You know that!"

I know! But.... Fuck. I guess I deserve it, how fucking naive.

"Hurry up kid." The nurse grunted at him.

Gerard had forgotten he had been left a task, he'd been stripped of so much agency in his life today.

He slumped over in his chair and began to undo his boot laces.

"...they want your shoe laces so you can't kill yourself, pussy." A male voice hissed at him.

"..or somebody else!" Giggled a higher-pitched one.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" The singer devolved into hysteria as his dream was finally being realized.

Gerard would be alone.

Vulnerable.

With no escape, no nothing.

The doctor had lied to him, said it was just about talking, but when Gerard had been less than inclined to have a chat she'd dropped that they could chat tomorrow if he'd rather as he was being signed over to the hospital for 30 days as he was a danger to himself.

He'd freaked of course, and had devolved to hyperventilating in a ball, screaming curses at anyone who so much as tried to touch him.

He'd calmed himself down eventually, enough to function again. Letting things slip through the cracks wouldn't help him now, and he couldn't go having panicked breakdowns in public if he wanted to convince them he was fine.

And he really wanted to convince them he was fine.

Because in the real world he could bleed out the feelings, he could fuck away his life with Bert, he could pop pills til he couldn't remember his name, but in here?

In here they wanted his fucking shoelaces.

He mentally thanked his past self for having the forethought to stash his blade.

The Doctor-woman had made him show her his wounds. Claiming someone who loves him, she used that phrase too much, had made an anonymous report for his safety, and thus his parents had been contacted and he had been brought in.

Ray.

Her face....
He'd expected shock, disgust maybe, he was even moderately prepared for fear, but the intense look of pity on her face had been too much for Gerard.

He was angry again replaying the events in his mind, and he slapped his boot laces into the nurse's outstretched hands with more force than he'd intended.

He glanced fearfully up at the man who's hand he'd just slapped. The guy just chuckled and pointed at Gerard's neck.
"Hoodie strings too, unless you don't want the sweater?"

Gerard grimaced as he pulled the drawstring of his hoodie all the way out. The act sent shivers down his spine, it made his skin itch. He was always so careful to keep the knots of it exactly equal height, the string perfectly distributed on either side of his body.