Stockholm Syndrome (Frerard)

14: Lock and Load

(A/N: So I'm officially on summer break now so there'll be lots of writing time, meaning quicker updates. I've only got 3 more chapters to write, what am I gonna do with my life after... (I have up to ch16 written currently, there will be 19 or 20 plus an epilogue. I'll prob just post one every day once I get it all written.) Get ready for some heavy shit. -Dylan)
Media: in which Gerard is cocky with his money and has gotten Frank into smoking.

"What do you mean, you want to go back?" Gerard asked in a harsh tone, legs crossed as he sat facing me on his bed. I was sat up too, my own legs criss-crossed as I looked back at him with guilt.

"I miss him..." I reasoned, carding a hand through my hair and than letting it drop in my lap. I looked down at my hands, picking mindlessly at my nails.

"No, Frank. I'm not taking you back. I can't fucking believe you."

"It's my decision! My life! McFuckhead isn't out there to kill me and I know you won't. It's not like I don't wanna see you anymore, we can go out publicly this way. I can have a life." I explained, hoping he'd understand. The more I thought about it, I really was the only thing left that my dad had. I have no idea what he could be getting into right now. I needed to see if he was okay.

Gerard scoffed, shaking his head. "What happened to 'my dad doesn't love me, he wouldn't care if I died, I hate my life'? Did I have to listen to all your complaining for nothing? Were you lying to me?"

"No! I've just had more time to think about it! Let me just go back and tell my dad I'm fine. Then I won't be missing. I'll tell him I ran away. I don't wanna play dead any longer." I sighed. "I'll be eighteen in nine months. I'll come live with you then."

"No." Was all he said. I could tell he was thinking about something, but he wouldn't say it.

"Why?"

"I have my reasons. No."

"I wanna know your reasons."

"They're private." Gerard un-crossed his legs and stood up from the bed, stepping towards the bedroom door with his hands in his hair, tugging on the ends stressfully. "And I'm not opening up to someone who's gonna leave me." He dropped his hands and opened the door. He didn't walk through it, just opened it. "Get out and let me think about shit."

I knew it wouldn't take long. He gave me rights to his bedroom just yesterday and now he's kicking me out. I knew he'd want to be alone at some point. "As you wish." I grimaced as I got off the bed, making my way to the open door. I stopped in my tracks and stood in the doorway for a second, contemplating if I should hug him or kiss him or if I should ignore him. I'd love to do the former but he was kind of being an unpleasant candidate for intimacy right now. I just grunted and kept walking.

I went into the living room and sat down on the couch, propping my elbow up on the arm of the sofa and resting my chin on my hand. I don't think Gerard understood what I was trying to say. I wasn't going back to leave him. I wasn't going back just to live with my dad. I wanted to check on my dad and make sure he wasn't doing anything harmful to himself. He has access to almost every drug in New York. And in doing that, it would clear up my missing person's report, and I wouldn't have to hide anymore. And then I would move out in 9 months and be with him freely. We could go out and be in public and do things and I could even get a job and help him with his rent, it would fix so many things. He would understand eventually.

I heard the door open slowly, as it let out that awful creak it always did. I didn't look up as Gerard entered the living room and sat beside me.

"I'll take you to New York." He grumbled. I looked up then, surprised at how fast he had changed his mind. "But," oh, there's a catch. "You're coming back after you tell him you're fine."