Runaway Scars - Frerard

Chapter 18

She was beautiful; that's what Frank noticed first. She was one of those people that, straight or gay, you HAD to find them attractive. And Frank did. It wasn't until he saw her large, round breasts that he looked away and recollected himself. He wondered if the same had happened when Gerard met her.

    "What the hell are you doing hiding in a closet when everyone's leaving town?!" Chantal lectured, helping Gerard and Frank to their feet, "The cops are gonna find you!"

    "They've already found you!" Gerard said, "What are you doing here?"

    She shrugged, looking to the window and staring down at the cops parading up and down the street to and from the jail. "Doesn't matter. I'm here, and I need to find Jimmy." She answered, "I thought he'd be with you."

    Gerard looked down nervously and shook his head. "Not with us." He replied quietly.

    Chantal nodded silently and then directed her attention to Frank. Frank could feel her large eyes focusing in on him and studying. He quickly became nervous; that was Jimmy's girlfriend; probably the only person in the world who didn't want to kick his ass right now. And the only person that would probably always take his side.

    "And what are you?" Chantal questioned. She paused and smiled. "Oh, are you the Frank we all hear about?"

    Frank swallowed and nodded. Chantal smiled in approval as she continued to study him. She then moved back onto Gerard and asked, "Where's my boyfriend, Gee?"

    He shrugged. "I don't know." He mumbled. "You—you don't know what he's doing, do you?"

    She jumped a bit. "No. What is it?"

    Gerard rubbed his face with his hands and took a long, deep breath. He was growing quite tired of living this nightmare, but explaining it to people he loved was getting just as old.

    "Jimmy's after Frank. He thinks he turned us in." He stated. He carefully looked up at Chantal's face for approval.

    Chantal was quiet for a moment as he gazed out the window. She cleared her throat and spoke. "I see," She said finally, "But he didn't." her eyes landed on Frank again and her eye brows raised.

    Frank nodded. "I—I didn't—I WOULDN'T, ever."

    Chantal nodded. She sighed and stepped towards the door. "Well, then I guess I'd better go find him." She said.

    "Please, explain it to him, will you?" Gerard begged.

    She scoffed. "As soon as he sees me, he's not even going to be worried about Frank. He's only doing this so he can have someone to blame."

    Gerard walked over to her and hugged her goodbye. "Be careful." He whispered.

    "You too, boys." She replied. She walked over to Frank and hugged him too. Before separating, she whispered in his ear, "Keep an eye on him. He's gonna freak out."

    Franks face scrunched up as he looked at Chantal, confused. She nodded and then turned away, gone as quick as she had come. Gerard sat on the bed, sitting criss cross and looking down at his hands. Frank slowly made his way over to him and sat down. The room still smelled heavily of the odd smell Chantal has brought in with her; and the odd smell the two of them had generated since arriving at the hotel.

    Frank put his hand on Gerard's, causing him to jump. He shook his head and leaned closer to Frank.

    "I'm not gonna freak out." Gerard said quietly. "Chantal's just...paranoid."

    Frank nodded, moving some of the hair out of Gerard's face. "Well, if you DID freak out...there'd be nothing to freak out about...because—"

    "Because WHAT, Frank?! Because we're some kind of miracle or something? Because I deserve to be off the hook when Chantal was put in jail?!" Gerard burst, letting the tears fall, "Because Jimmy deserved to lose his mind and lose the love of his life when I'm here with you. How does that work, huh? How does one person just win like that? I didn't deserve to win, Frank. Jimmy didn't deserve to lose her. Nothing, nothing is right..."

    He fell into Frank's arms finally and sobbed, more than he'd ever seen him. Frank was in shock, not knowing what to do. He himself didn't know why HE was given someone as great as Gerard; he had no idea why THEY hadn't been caught yet; it was all just...dumb luck.

    "Gerard...I...I don't know. I really don't." he finally responded.

    Gerard pulled away, shaking his head. "No, I—I'm sorry, don't do that—don't humor me. It's fine, I shouldn't have done that."

    Frank pulled his face roughly to look at him again. "Hey, no, goddammit. You don't think I'VE wondered the same thing? I don't know how I earned you. We have to just...accept it instead of trying to find all the faults. Let's just enjoy it."

    Gerard almost argued again, but instead nodded and cuddled himself into Frank again. Frank almost wasn't used to holding Gerard and being his comfort; Gerard was always the strong one. It was interesting; he liked it. Gerard looked up and smiled lightly before pressing their lips together. He was too tired to hold the kiss for longer than a couple seconds.

    Frank pulled away, crawling to the head of the bed again. "Let's get back to sleep." Frank suggested. Gerard agreed, joining him and wrapping his arms around him like normal. Frank got chills when he felt his lips rest on his neck for a moment. "I love you." He said.

    Gerard kissed his cheek now before replying lazily, but firmly, "I love you, too."

**

    Frank heard it first. He sprang up in the bed, pushing Gerard off of him and waking him up, too. There was a gunshot; that's what actually woke him. Another one. The two of them exchanged looks before hopping to the window and looking down.

    And there, just below their room, was the scene. It played ever so slowly in front of them, leaving them powerless above and confused. But they knew one thing: that guy was Jimmy. And those were cops around him.

    They were shouting; yelling, ordering things and threatening. They were pointing guns at him, and Jimmy was pointing his right back, his arm shaking. Finally, he yelled something; it was a loud, bold statement that, if he had died, would have made amazing last words. It was so loud, in fact, that while the cops' words were muffled and distant, Gerard and Frank heard this like it was yelled right behind him.

    "NO MORE RUNNING."

    Jimmy dropped his gun and fell to his knees, hands in the air while he was handcuffed by the police. Gerard held tighter onto Frank's hand as tears welled up in his eyes. They looked at each other, both crying now, before embracing tightly. Frank had to believe that Gerard would simply miss Jimmy and that's why he was crying. But that would be selfish of him. Their love was something special; so special, even Jimmy had a use for it. But now it was over.

    They pulled apart enough to keep looking out. Frank sniffled and spoke for the first time for both of them. "Why do you think he did that?" he asked, "He—he could have just shot one and ran."

    Gerard shrugged. "He couldn't run anymore," he answered, "Eventually, the scars get too deep."

    "Do you think Chantal ever found him?"

    Gerard walked away as he the police drove off with Jimmy, and sat on the bed. Frank followed. "I sure hope so."

    The two of them packed their things, cleaned up the room, and waited a good two hours before finally leaving the hotel room. They walked out hand in hand; no fear of anything except what their parents might do to them for being gone that long.