Stockholm Syndrome [Frerard]

4. Partners

This was a mistake. I had only driven a few miles away from the motel, and the whole time there was a growing sick feeling in my gut, one that was telling me I made the wrong choice.  My decision to leave was because I was afraid Gerard was going to kill me in the end, but that fear didn't sit right when I dwelt on it more. Gerard had to care for me at least a little. He saved me from that mugger, took care of my injuries, and had possibly left me free to go. Sure, Gerard had taken me hostage, was some kind of professional criminal, and most importantly had fucking killed someone. But he did it for me. To protect me. To avenge me.

And my time with Gerard, had it really still been a nightmare? Maybe it wasn't the ideal dream of a life, but what kind of life had I really been living before I had been stolen away from it? It was a life of being anxious all the time, lonely and never really felt cared for, even during the time I had my girlfriend. It was a mundane existence. It was barely living. Gerard had been right the first time he said it, every time I walked out of those banks getting away with stealing, it really was a heart pounding rush. Maybe I'd hate to admit it, but all this time with Gerard was the first time in so long that I actually felt like I was alive and accomplishing something. For the past couple weeks it had become increasingly hard to determine whether pre-abduction life was better or worse then my life now. Yes, Gerard had pointed a gun at me and made threats more times than I could count, but Gerard was there. More than anybody I ever shared a relationship with. This mess had a terrifying start, but it changed. Life was a thrill. The excitement rush, a good kind of fear, and always having someone around. Gerard didn't steal me away from anything good. He gave me a new start.

I messed up. I shouldn't have left.  I had to fix this.  Somewhere deep down I knew I was thinking crazy, but didn't care.  Gerard had looked after me.  Gerard was my friend.  I needed to get back. It was about three in the morning, and with the road dark and empty at this hour, I didn't think twice as I quickly threw the stirring wheel to the left, sending the car skidding at full speed around into the opposite lane so I could head back to the motel. I felt so sure I wouldn't have to be afraid of Gerard killing me. Sure that if I just went off on my own my life would be miserable. Sure that if I went back to Gerard I would always feel alive and never lonely. Gerard needed to know I wanted to stay. He needed to know I was serious. That I could really be his ally.

 I was back at the motel in record time. I grabbed Gerard's bag, shouldered my backpack, and hurried to the door. If Gerard had awoken he would probably be more than pissed that I had taken the money, but I was relying on the belief that somewhere along the abnormal time spent together, Gerard developed the same sort of bizarre fondness I had. At room 111 I knocked lightly, hoping above all else that Gerard would be happy I came back. But when I knocked the door creaked open a little. It had been left unlocked and slightly ajar, and I remembered clearly that I had shut it when I left.

"Gerard..?" I called out softly. No response. I fumbled my hand against the wall to find the light switch. The wall lamps turned on at once, and I felt my heart sink a little when I saw Gerard's empty bed. "Gerard?" I called out a little louder, rushing in further to check the bathroom. It was empty, and Gerard's duffle bag was nowhere in sight. He had left, and probably to avoid getting caught by the police, thinking I went to them. I couldn't stop frowning. Couldn't stop feeling so stupid for leaving. Couldn't stop feeling so empty. I had blown my chance. I trudged back to the car and sighed. There was no chance in hell I'd ever be able to find Gerard if I tried. I only had a description and a first name that may or may not even be real.  The only people that may have been able to help me would be the police, but I sure as fuck couldn't go to them. I was all alone, and it was all my fault.

I started up the engine, threw the car into gear, and just started driving. I was lost and had no clue where I was going, but I really didn't give a shit where I ended up. On and on I drove fast and aimlessly, only slowing a bit when I was about to pass a police car that had pulled someone over. I casually glanced over, watching the men in the glow of headlights, and my eyebrows just about leapt off my forehead when I recognized the man the police officer was making get out of the car to be Gerard. I kept on driving a little ways and pulled over to the side of the road. I was dazed and overwhelmed.  Finding Gerard was some crazy sign from the fates, and I wasn't about to let him get arrested and taken away. I had to stop this somehow. My eyes drifted to the bag of money resting in the passenger seat as I remembered the gun was still in there. Spring Gerard with the gun. I could do this. It was fucking crazy, but I was going to do this.