Never Coming Home

Breaking The Ice- Or- Uh- The Walls

A/n: still alive

You know, trying to break through concrete walls with a tiny metal screwdriver is a lot harder than you think it is. For one, Gerard had to have Frank nagging over his shoulder about that whole "kissing" incident, not that it matter to Gerard much anyways, because he knew that he did something to save everyone, and Frank couldn't see that. Frank didn't know why, but he couldn't overcome the cloud of jealousy that hung over his head like a broody storm cloud, and the only person to talk to about that was, well, Gerard.

Frank would never come full out and tell Gerard that he was jealous. First of all, it's embarrassing, and secondly, it's not like Frank had some sort of control over Gerard and what he could or couldn't do. It isn't fair to Gerard, and Frank understood that. In all honesty, Frank just wanted something else to think about besides the fact that he was trapped in a place that he couldn't escape from, and he was wasting away into nothing. No one treated them like humans. They were more like test rats, because Peta doesn't care enough to protect rats. Frank felt equivalent to a rat; a thing on the streets, useless and uncared for, scavenging for scraps left in the trash. That's what Frank was, but instead of thinking about himself, he thought of Gerard, but Gerard had enough.

He threw the screwdriver towards the floor and faced Frank, poking a finger in his chest. "I'm trying the best that I can, Frank!" He spat. "Lay off."

Frank was shocked. For some reason, he couldn't register why Gerard became angry. Gerard was never angry. Not when they were being tortured, not when they were first captured... he was just never angry- until now.

"I'm sick and tired of your shit!" He snarled, "All you fucking do is nag at me about what ever the fuck I do wrong when you don't stop to look at all the wrong things about yourself!-"

Frank looked at the floor, both shocked and angered, and when he gets like this, he can't seem to slow the waterfall of words that spew out of his mouth. "Yeah, sure, everything is wrong with me. All you're doing is yelling at me so that I can shut up, but it doesn't work like that. I can speak as I please, and nothing you say will make me stop."

"You're a child."

"You're a douche." Frank shot back.

"Oh! Oh! I'm the douche?!" Gerard yelled. "Really, Frank? Because last I checked, you're the one screaming at me about kissing Lindsey in the coffee room when I was just trying to save your life! What is it, Frank?! What- you're- you're gay for me or something?! Whatever it is, I don't fucking care. Stay the fuck away from me. I just want to get out of here so I can never see you again."

Frank scowled. "And go back to what?! A family?! I actually have someone to go back to, prick. All you've got is dirt and coffins-"

Suddenly Gerard swung his fist and struck Frank in the lower jaw. Frank toppled back and landed on his butt, staring at Gerard with wide eyes. Surprisingly, Gerard carried the same expression.

"Frank I-"

"Just stop." Frank said, tears finally pricking in his eyes.

If this were a perfect story, Gerard would go to Frank and apologize. Frank would do the same, but this isn't a perfect story, and neither is life.

Instead, Gerard walked over to Frank and kneeled next to him. He then began to lean in, Frank's breath hitching, and his eyes fluttering shut. He could feel Gerard's breath on his cheek, butterflies fluttering into his chest. Then, Gerard snatched up the screwdriver that sat just next to Frank, and walked away to continue working on the wall.

Once again, Frank was left alone, distraught.

Frank stood up, and sat on one of the beds in the corner of his room. Gerard hoped that Frank would fall asleep and that test time would come quickly. Secretly, he hoped that this time, surgeon would kill him.