Carousels & Coffins

Chapter 14

The next night, Frank was awoken by the sound of a million meows.

Opening his eyes slowly and waiting for them to adjust to the darkened bedroom in which he lay, Frank thought that Rorschach must be quite literally screaming directly into his right ear; however, Rorschach would have to be possessed for this to be the case, as there were a great many cat voices being heard simultaneously. Once, his eyes had adjusted, he saw the best thing he'd ever seen in his life.

Gerard, in all his beauty, was on a fire escape alongside what could actually be a million cats. There were bowls of cat food set out along the metal contraption, and he was lounging nonchalantly amongst them. He was wearing Frank's hoodie and a pair of boxers, sketchbook in his lap, brow furrowed. A pencil was held between his teeth as he rubbed his thumb across the page and erased furiously. Rorschach, innocent of the crimes he was accused of, was curled into a ball at the man's bare feet.

Frank did not draw any attention to himself, as he was more than content to simply watch Gerard sit this way forever. There was an honesty in his appearance when he drew, and on the rare occasion that you could watch without him noticing, there was also a rare vulnerability. This artistic vulnerability, coupled with the vulnerability he expressed when he was with Rorschach, was just another depth of Gerard's that Frank longed to explore. The streetlight in the alley bounced off the vampire's moving hands, and the rather starless sky above matched his hair flawlessly.

Absorbing his situation, Frank elected to take the time to look at what could possibly be hidden in this mystery-shrouded room. He took in his surroundings, and was both disappointed and relieved to discover that Gerard's bedroom was little more than a collection of comic books, a bed dressed in black sheets, a desk, and cluttered walls. There was an assorted variety of horror movie posters, Iron Maiden posters, Morrissey posters, and sci-fi based sketches torn from Gerard's sketchbook. Frank eyed them and was mind blown to see that Gerard had artistic talent falling out of his ears. He was particularly drawn to a cartoon of a monkey dressed as a chef, a plate of pancakes in his hand. There was nothing scandalous to be found in the room, and it made itself known that Gerard simply had an issue with trusting those around him. Frank felt particularly honored to have been trusted this far.

With this in mind, he could not keep his eyes away from Gerard, and soon returned to his prior occupation.

Unfortunately, Frank was not permitted the honor of watching Gerard for long, as he is an unbearable klutz. Quietly adjusting in the bed became loudly knocking an alarm clock onto the floor, and drawing every ounce of Gerard's attention. It's hard to ignore a loud noise when a dozen cats sink their claws into your legs out of fear.

Once the cats had settled, Gerard stood and crawled into the bed, sketchpad in hand. Frank began to sit up, and Gerard elected to kiss him mid crawl. They sank back into the bed together, wrapped in each other's embrace.

"Hey, you," Gerard said in his usual teasing tone. "How'd you sleep?"

"I think I broke your alarm clock," Frank told him laughing, a dopy smile permanently plastered on his face.

"Fuck the alarm clock, I have half a mind to keep you in my bed forever." Frank inhaled sharply as Gerard kissed the space behind his ear.

"Tsk, tsk, slow your roll there, hot shot. Where's the fun in rushing?" Gerard rolled over and groaned in frustration. "What are you drawing?" This question immediately shut him up, and he pulled his sketchpad close to his chest, aware of his newfound secret weapon.

"I will show you what I'm drawing," he began, "if you agree that you'll shut up afterward and kiss me, you animal."

Frank nodded and Gerard handed over the sketchpad. It was an incredible compilation of curves and soft gray undertones. The eyes were so filled with life, rimmed with long eyelashes, soft and sharp at the same time. "This is..."

"It's you."

Frank immediately kissed Gerard with a force that could almost be described as violent. He was so grateful to be wrapped in black sheets, to be wrapped in his arms, and he was so glad they'd reached this point. They found it very hard to stop kissing once they'd begun, and they didn't, until sleep overcame them once more.

He was showered in red, it dripped down his face, ran down his cheeks, trickled off his fingertips, pooled at his feet. Suddenly, the liquid thickened into a sap, hardening until his legs were immobilized, until the soles of his shoes were glued to the floor beneath him. He was paralyzed.

He didn't know that the human voice could create a sound so piercingly sharp, so shrill. It was earsplitting, and it met his ears in a split state. Split amongst dozens of entities, split amongst dozens of deaths.

A dove, white as snow, flew past his eyes, threw itself into the side of his head, knocking it to the side. A mistake, surely, birds only ever fly into things by mistake. It flew away timidly. A double-barreled shotgun shot dual bullets into the throats of those making his ears bleed, silencing them. A crimson darker than the liquid at his feet enveloped the dove.

"This one? Well, happy birthday!"

A panther sank its teeth into his still-exposed neck. More earsplitting, splitting his own ears. The panther smiled, having its prey just where it wanted it. The panther, satisfied, pushed him to the ground and slunk away into the darkness.

"Wake up."

"Frank! Frank, wake up, you're just having a nightmare, please breathe!"

Frank opened his eyes with an urgency he'd never known. He gasped for air but failed to acquire any. His lungs, dead as they were, felt as if they were shriveling within him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. Hot tears ran down his face, leaving scarlet streaks in their wake.

"Jesus Christ, Frank, breathe! Please! You're just panicking, we don't even really need to breathe! You're okay, Frank, you're okay."

Gerard wiped away the blood tears as quickly as they came, his hands becoming a sickly shade of red. Frank inhaled deeply and held it for some time before letting out a sob that had been suffocating him in his sleep. He buried his face in Gerard's neck, sobbing with all that he had. He didn't think he could take another nightmare. Next time, the sob would stick in his throat forever, and he'd be breathless, silent, forever.

"Frank? Look at me. Look at me right now." Gerard pulled Frank's face into blood-stained hands, and looked him directly in the eyes. "I will never, never let them hurt you, I promise. I won't ever let anyone hurt you. Frank, I would shield you from the world. You're safe. I'll protect you, okay?"

Frank did his best to regulate his breathing, and his face was smeared with warm, thick tears. Once he'd calmed enough to speak, he grabbed at Gerard's hand.

"Gerard, what the fuck was that? Who was that? The man at the bar?"

The vampire, exquisiteness in the grief evident on his face, sighed a fearful breath.

"That... that was Bert."