Demented

I Can't Tell You, I Won't Tell You, I Don't Need to Tell You

Gerard awakened at the crack of dawn. His eyes stammered down to Frank who was lying on top of him, grasping his shirt, holding on for dear life. Gerard nudged him. "Frankie, wake up." He shook his arm. Frank's eyes fluttered open.

"Hi."

"Hi. Can you get off me please?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, rolling off of him.

"It's okay Frank." There was an awkward silence. Gerard was planning something. Don't wait too long to see what was wrong with Frank or otherwise he'll be at full senses, not wanting to tell. But give him a minute, so he could recollect. "Hey, Frankie? What happened last night?"

"Umm...I had a dream. That's all."

"You're lying," Gerard said softly. Frank shook his head. "There's more to it. A lot more."

"It's nothing, okay?"

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"I don't want to, Gerard. Please."

"Come on, Frankie. Tell me, please," Gerard begged.

"No!"

"Frank, it looked like you were fighting for your life."

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Why wouldn't I wanna know?" Reverse psychology, a common move by Gerard Way.

"Because you mind your own business."

"But I don't mind my own business, now do I?"

"Well you really should start!"

"I'm trying to help you."

"Wh-why do you wa-wa-wanna help me?"

"Beause you're my friend, Frank," Gerard said, leaning into Frank's side.

It took Frank a second to comprehend what he had said. Gerard told Frank he was his friend. Frank never had friends. Gerard said he didn't want friends. But there they were. The word, "friend", was a word he encountered everyday but never physically.

"I th-thought you said you didn't want friends?"

"I did say that. But you're friend material. You're nice, less attractive than me, an all around respectable person. So I decided to break my "no friends" rule," he explained.

"Oh. You're my friend too."

"You can tell me anything Frank," Gerard comforted, leaning into him even more.

"Thank you," he answered, coddling Gerard's head into the crease of his cold, pale arm. If this couldn't get any gayer, Gerard placed his arm around Frank's stomach.

"Absolutely anything."

"I just can't. You know?"

"Tell me. Pretty please."

"Someday later."

Gerard's attitude turned cold. "I'm you're fucking friend. You are suppose to tell me."

"Calm down, psycho," Frank retorted. He sat up.

"I'm the psychoest of them all, baby. But you like 'em psycho, don't you Frankie?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you want me Frankie. It's pretty obvious."

"No I don't," Frank defended.

"Yes you do," Gerard smiled.

"Keep telling you're inflated ego that."

"Well my inflated ego wants to know what happened to you last night."

"Augh! Stay in your own lane! Stop bothering me!"

"It's not that fucking hard to tell me!" Gerard snapped.

"How do you go from being all sweet to the son of Satan?"

"You don't see me having my nanny kill herself crying out, "It's all for you, Damian!" So, I'm not Satan's son. I'm bipolar, remember?"

Frank sighed. "Please go away," he said covering his face with his hands, voice cracking. Gerard snuggled up against him again and rested his hand on his thigh. Frank softly sobbed into his calloused hands.

"Look, Frank. If you just tell me. Then you might feel better."

"Why won't you just stop?! Leave me alone!" Frank cried out in hysterics and punched the wall behind him. Gerard groaned.

"You're making it rocket science. Tell me. Now."

"I can't tell you! I won't tell you! I don't need to tell you!" Frank screamed. Gerard shushed him.

"Gimme your hand," Gerard said, taking hold of Frank's. He pulled him down on top of him. His arms snaked around his waist. The two were silent. Gerard began to ponder. His plan wasn't working but he would never give up.

A/N As you can see Gerard's sociopathic tendencies are showing a lot in this chapter. He's not stopping until he gets his way. He's only getting closer to Frank to manipulate him in the future. Manipulation is his plan. But he does consider Frank his friend.