Not Just A Fantasy (Angel)

A Name and A Past

The pattering of raindrops on Franks back startled him, and he remembered where he was. He leaned back from Gerard, just to see his expression. The boys eyes were closed, his face tilted to the sky, raindrops breaking on his cheeks. Frank looked down. All around them was blood. Mixed with rain and tears, it flowed in rivets down Gerard's arm, down his legs, washing away in streams, until the boy was clean.

Frank brought a gentle hand to his wrist, and turned it to face him. There was a thin, straight cut running halfway across his wrist. Gerard looked down at his wrist, his eyes filled with something Frank couldn't place, but it scared him. As if Gerard sensed his unease, he looked up at Frank to met his eyes, and the look that scared Frank fell away. Their eyes locked, and warmth spread through Frank.

Gerard's lips curled into a small, but genuine smile. "You spoke," he whispered.

Franks mouth opened in suprise. He did, he remembered. He licked his lips and, afraid that it wouldn't work, he tried again.

"Gerard." It was soft and his voice was hoarse from years of silence, but he could talk! A smile to match Gerard's grew on his face.

"I... I can talk," he said.

Gerard grinned, the smile lighting his eyes.

"What's your name?" He asked.

Frank swallowed, but speaking is something that you never loose, once you get it back, and those memories from before he met the boy came rushing back. "Frank."

"Frank," Gerard repeated, the name sounding soft and musical coming from his tongue. "It fits you."

Frank smiled, happier than he had been in a long time, but then his heart plunged when he remembered what Gerard had almost done. He had almost ended his life. What would drive someone to do that? To hate themselves and the world so much that they wanted to die, so much that they could forget all the good parts in life and just focus on the bad until it overcame them enough to control their thoughts, enough to make them do such a thing.

He looked closer at the cut, and Gerard shifted in discomfort. It was clean, so Frank could tell it was deep, but not deep enough to kill. He let out a breath in relief and leaned back on his heels.

He tried out speaking. "It... It isn't deep enough to... Kill," he said haltingly, and he didn't miss how Gerard's face dropped.

He scooted closer, raising Gerard's chin so he would look him in the eyes. "Don't do that... Again," he whispered.

Gerard set his jaw. "No one cares about me, Frank. No one would care."

Frank searched his eyes. "I do."

*  *  *

Gerard was confused. On one hand, he was glad Frank had found his voice, and he was happy that he had finally learned his angels name. But he wanted to die, and the boy wouldn't let him. Now that the haze had worn off, the cut throbbed. If he had died, he wouldn't feel any pain anymore. He would be able to see his angel again in heaven.

"I do," the boy said. His words were a little mis-pronounced, like a just kid learning how to speak, but Gerard could understand him well enough. He gapped at the boy. No one had ever cared for him. And then this boy, who had he felt a strange attraction to, the boy who had done nothing but save him and care for him like a mother caring for a day-old child, and then he said he cared?

Gerard completely lost it then. He broke down, sobbing, and spilled the entire story. How his life had been good. Normal, until he turned seven. His parents started arguing. Not a lot at first, just a little, but soon it turned to a full-scale war, with poor Gerard trapped in the middle, receiving what rage his parents still had left after the day. How that when he turned 11, his dad had discovered the comfort in drinking until he couldn't stand straight. That when he turned 13, his mom disappeared for two weeks, coming back with a tattoo on her shoulder and a wicked hate for Gerard. How when he started middle school, Andy had started to bully him. Not a lot at first- just a punch on the shoulder once a day, a shouted insult, but then Jinxx had moved to town a year later, and Andy started pummeling his mercilessly, seemingly never to tire trapping his in a closet for the night, breaking his nose multiple times, always finding new ways to torture the poor boy.

Gerard spoke about how he used to have friends. Not a lot, but enough. And then they started to distance themselves from Gerard, in fear that the bullying would pass to them, and, eventually, they disappeared from his life altogether, and he was all alone. How he found comfort in singing, and when he sung, everything disappeared, and it was just him and the music. How he dreamed of being a singer, and how he wished that he could inspire people to chase after their dreams, to be strong, to smile and laugh even if that day was the worst in their life.

All through his ramblings, Frank just listened, his eyes soft, nodding.

Then, summoning his courage, Gerard told Frank what had happened today. How he had felt so useless, so alone, that he couldn't take it anymore. That he just wanted to end his life, because he thought that whatever is on the other side, it couldn't be worse than this. This life that Gerard had over for too long.

Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard when he finished. "I understand if you don't want to be friends with me," he told Frank, his heart breaking as he did.

Frank didn't answer, he just helped Gerard up and started leading him toward his home. "I need to clean this cut," he said.

As Gerard followed his angel, he was thinking about the only two things Gerard hadn't told him. Not so much the boy at the street that reminded Gerard of Frank, but more the other thing that was going stronger every time Frank so much as looked at him.

How Gerard thought he was falling in love with the boy.