The Human Condition / / [Frerard]

1: Love Makes You Do Crazy Things (Like Cut Out Your Own Internal Organs)

When Gerard Way landed on Earth, the Grace he once possessed as an Angel, a warrior of God himself, had been diminished into nothing more than a pile of useless ashes. Being human wasn't too different to being an Angel, he speculated, inspecting his all too familiar hands carefully, scanning for any noticeable differences.

Yes, he may have lost his Grace but, as far as he was concerned, everything else remained intact. His memory was as clear as desert skies during summer and his appearance was almost identical to how it was in Heaven (minus the extravagant wings and annoyingly white dress robes). He was, amazingly, dressed in clothes, unlike the many urban legends of Fallen Angels landing butt naked, which Gerard was thankful for. He didn't know how prepared he was to be exposed in such a crude manner to complete strangers. But, thankfully, he was wearing a simple plain black shirt, a matching hoodie and a perfectly average pair of ripped denim jeans.

"Nice," he grinned to himself, grabbing the soft material of the shirt with his palm. The fall from Heaven to Earth had resulted in him staining his new clothes with mud, but Gerard cared little: Clothing was just a few of the many privileges of human nature. After all, he had seemed to land directly in the middle of the woods and mud was simply unavoidable in surroundings like these, especially due to the autumn season.

"Hey, are you okay, dude?" A voice said behind him, causing Gerard to jump unexpectedly, "you look like you've just been attacked by a wolf or something."

It was a boy, around the ages of nineteen and twenty, Gerard predicted, black hair curling raggedly around his contrasting pale face. He had a small frame but still looked like he knew how to hold his ground, tattooed fingers looping around his belt buckle. He was, to say the least, extremely attractive.

"I'm fine," Gerard tried to shrug casually, but it was all too fucking surreal. He was talking to a human. And that human thought that he, Gerard Way, was human.

Hell, he fell: He was human.

"Are you sure?" The boy furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously. "Your head is bleeding. What the fuck happened?"

He was bleeding? Gerard placed a hand to his forehead to confirm the boy's comment and felt a warm liquidly substance slip through his fingertips. When he retreated his hand, it was stained a brilliant shade of red.

"Oh," he grinned, probably coming off as an idiot. From what he'd seen, bleeding wasn't meant to encourage smiles but who the fuck cared? Angels didn't bleed and this was a new and exciting experience for Gerard.

"Are you smiling at your own blood? Your fuckin' crazy dude," the boy was mirroring Gerard's grin more than happily. "That's fuckin' hardcore."

Gerard shook his head lightly, careful to not worsen his possible concussion, and smiled to himself. Was he already making a friend? Up in Heaven, his friend count was a grand total of zero, unless, of course, you counted Yazmir who was a more fatherly figure to Gerard, although he was fairly certain that Yazmir was never thrilled with socialising with Gerard. They only conversed when compulsory. Their viewpoints varied significantly, especially regarding the human world. If Yazmir could see Gerard now, he would be shaking his head in disgust.

"I'm Frank, by the way," Frank said lightly, balancing on his heels and shifting his weight forwards and back childishly. "Frank Iero, but you can call me whatever you want, sugar."

Frank winked flirtatiously and Gerard felt his cheeks heat up in a temporary blush.

"I'm Gerard Way, but you can call me," Gerard tilted his head, thinking of a witty response before finally speaking, "just Gerard?"

Well, I guess you can't say he never tried, despite the marvellous fail it ended in.

"Okay, 'Just Gerard', I shall repeat my previous sentence that you blatantly ignored, you massive jerk. What the fuck happened?"