Vacant Eyes & Butterflies(Frerard)

Chapter 14- Blood

Chapter 14

Blood

A/N: there is a slight self harm trigger warning
           

When I awoke the next morning, Gerard wasn't beside me.  I knew that he didn't exactly need as much sleep as I did (Did vampires really sleep at all?) But I was really hoping to have waken up next to him.

Having a proper future with Gerard would never be possible, but what exactly was considered to be proper?  Nothing him and I would ever do would be considered proper. I was falling in love with my dead best friend's brother, who also happened to be a serial killer...totally normal, right?

Everything seemed to have been okay, until I heard my mother shrieking in the next room.

"Frank! Oh my god! Call the ambulance!"

The first thought that popped into my head was Gerard. A walking disaster he was. But he was beautiful and perfect, and all mine. However, knowing that Gerard had done something horribly wrong only derived fear into my stomach, bubbling up my esophagus and leaving me feeling the need to puke. Who had he harmed? Did he kill anyone? Was he having another episode?

I rushed out into the hallway, and saw my mom standing out in front of the bathroom. She was in her work uniform; her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. She appeared exasperated and lifeless all at the same time. Fatigue plagued her hazel eyes, but the deep lines that crinkled down her forehead to her eyebrows told a different story. She was scared, and maybe I should've been too. The bathroom door was ajar, with the glowing yellow light slipping through the cracks of the door and onto our beige carpet.

"What's wrong?" I was seriously going to throw up.

My mom lifted her hands away from her complexion, and scrunched her face in disgust when she noticed the rust coloured blood stains on her pale, boney fingers. "There's some strange man in our bathroom...and he's covered in blood."

"Does he have red hair?" I asked a little too quickly.

She nodded her head warily. "uhm, yes. Do you know him, honey?"

"He's uh, he's my friend. He uh, y'know, stayed over last night because he couldn't get home in time. With that killer out there on the streets...it's not safe, yknow?

Was she going to ground me even further for having my "friend" stay the night? She nodded her head, seeming to understand. "Please just make sure he gets help. I have to go to work."

I nodded, while simultaneously knocking gingerly on the bathroom door. "Gerard?" My voice grew louder with the second syllable of his name. With the added pressure of my fist, the door pulled back on its own. I wasn't ready to see what lie in front of me.

Gerard was sitting cross- legged on the bathroom floor, mumbling to himself in what sounded Italian. Beside his leg lay the pack of shaving razors my mom kept in the bathroom cabnet. Some of them were taken apart. The silver, metallic blades caught the light in such a way that bothered my eyes to look, what bothered me even more was the blood that surrounded Gerard.

There were no victims here but himself.

He was leaning against the wall, in nothing except for his boxers. The Leviathan cross was carved into both of his thighs, except the curves at the bottom of the cross were nothing but jagged red lines in his skin.

He was still bleeding profusely, which made absolutely no sense to me at all, because the carvings in his skin weren't deep enough to draw that much blood.

Unhesitatingly, I knelt down beside him. My bare knee dipped in the puddle of blood beside Gerard; it was colder than I had expected; suddenly the hairs on my arms stood on end.