The Blade You Stained // Frerard // SEQUEL TO "NEVER COMING HOME"

• Chapter 2 •

"R-revenge?" I stuttered. "Frank, you're not seriously suggesting that we..." I trailed off, unable to say the unspoken word out loud.

"She took my childhood away. She deprived me of what was supposed to be the happiest time of my life. She left me beaten and bruised. She left me alone for days on end. I have no idea where she went, I just wanted her to come back. You know, I don't even remember a lot of my childhood," He said as a tear fell onto his cheek and rolled down his chin. "My mind decided that it was too traumatic, and it thought that it would protect me by getting rid of the memories." His voice quavered. "I can't be in loud rooms because of her. I break down and lose all control when anybody yells at me. Almost every night, I dream that I'm back in her house, that I'm back under her tyranny, and I wake up screaming and shaking. The only time that I was happy in my life was when I was with you, and she fucked that up, too. I'm just now picking up the pieces from the things that she ruined. I haven't been able to have a life until now. She needs to pay for what she did to me. To us."

"Maybe karma will come ba-"

"You don't believe in karma, Gerard; and neither do I. We have to be karma. Nothing bad is going to happen to her unless we bring it to her ourselves."

I sighed. "Okay. Assuming that we get that far, assuming that we kill her, what do we do from there? You have an apprenticeship. I have a job. I have school. If we run away, our absences will link us to the crime."

"So quit your job. Your boss has been sexually assaulting you, and you aren't happy there. Drop out of college. You don't belong in Psychology, anyways. I'll quit my apprenticeship. I'll say that I need to take care of a sick family member. He'll believe that."

"Okay, so how will we keep ourselves fed and under a roof on the run if neither of us have jobs?"

"My mom has thousands of dollars in a safe in her closet. I used to steal from it to buy weed. She changes the passcode every year, but I can make her give me the new one. After we use that up, we can figure out what to do."

I sighed. "Look, I know that she's an evil bitch, and she deserves all of the pain she caused you and more. But I'm just... I'm just not sure that This is something I want to do. Can I sleep on it?"

"Yeah, okay. That's fine. Are you going home?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I... I want you here. For once, I want to wake up next to somebody that I love."

The word 'love' lingered in the air. He still loved me? After all of these years? I mean, I loved him too. I never stopped loving him. I just... didn't expect him to still love me back.

"I'll stay with you," I told him. His face lit up, and he tackled me with a hug. I smiled and hugged him back. "I love you, too," I whispered.

~

Frank had a king sized bed covered in blood red satin sheets with a matching comforter. It was really nice to sleep in. He fell asleep hugging me, his head nestled into my chest. He didn't snore as much as he used to, but he still wasn't a very quiet sleeper.

As I looked at him, I thought about the difference between sleeping Frank and awake Frank. When he was asleep, Frank had no worries. He was unaffected by the world. He was uncaring. Seeing him like that made me happy.

I was still in shock from what Frank suggested, but what shocked me more was that the idea wasn't totally repulsive to me. The idea of murdering someone, the idea of taking a life, was one that should have been completely out of the question, but it wasn't. The fact that Linda had ruined Frank so much filled me with an inexplicable rage that I had never felt before, and the thought of bringing that pain back to her was oddly satisfying.

Slowly, my thoughts became fuzzy, and I fell asleep clutching Frank closely to my chest.

~

I was jostled into consciousness when Frank's entire body began trembling. He was still asleep, but now he was shaking and whimpering. I immediately realized that he was having a nightmare. I sat up and picked him up. I placed his head in my lap and began running my fingers through his hair, softly calling his name. A few seconds later, he jumped and woke up. Tears rushed to his eyes and he sat up and began sobbing. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him as close as I possibly could, hanging onto him as if my life depended on it. He hugged me, his hands still trembling as he grabbed my shirt. I whispered into his ear, rocking him back and forth as he sobbed into my shirt.

"You're safe," I whispered. "She isn't here. She can't hurt you anymore. I'll never let her hurt you again. I'll never let her take the light behind your eyes." I whispered that over and over, not stopping until he had regained control of his breathing. He lifted his head from my shoulder and let go of my shirt.

"Hey, gorgeous," I said softly. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he nervously fiddled with the sheets. "What happened?"

"I had another nightmare about... about her."

"Does that h-happen every single night?" I asked, concern in my voice. He shrugged.

"Almost, yeah."

"What happened? In the dream, I mean."

"The same thing that always happens: I'm back in her house, and she walks into the door. She throws an empty beer bottle at me and calls me worthless, pathetic, Queer, faggot, basically everything that she used to call me. She hits me, slams me into walls, and it always ends with her slamming my head into a wall and choking me until I wake up." His voice quavered as he spoke, and tears began falling down his face and onto the sheets.

"Hey, hey, you're safe with me. I'll never let her hurt you again."

"But what if you can't protect me? What if she finds me? What if she tracks me down and hurts me? What if she hurts me worse than she ever did before?"

I put my finger under his chin and lifted his head up to face me. "We are going to make sure," I said, my voice laced with venom and dripping with anger, "That she will never hurt anyone again."

A/N: Holy fuck I haven't had this much inspiration in 87 years. This is great. I'm fuckin pumped.
I've been listening to my metal playlist while writing this chapter and guess what ODDLY SPECIFIC song about murdering an abusive mom played?
Down With The Sickness by Disturbed.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter that I projectile vomited onto the page.
- Chase