Live Through This ---Frerard Fanfiction

Chapter Eight: Mama

Frank's POV

He loves me… What is that supposed to mean..? He loves me… A wave of nausea crashed into my stomach rolling over it and into my chest, burying itself deep inside. My hands instantly flew to my throat, grasping at it, trying to find something to suggest that I’m breathing… nothing. I tried to open my mouth to gasp for the air my throat so desperately begged for, but my jaw wouldn’t budge. It was as if my jaws were glued together, completely stuck. I whimpered and moaned, hoping someone could hear, but no one appeared to. No one was around… My head whipped from side to side in a panic. I wasn’t in my room anymore. The dark walls and four poster bed were gone, replaced with nothingness. That’s all there was: pure, white, inescapable, nothingness.

It couldn’t be nothing, though. Something was keeping me that way. A warm, billowing something kept me trapped under it’s invisible weight, rendering me immobile. My arms, legs, fingers, toes, all rendered useless by this something. It was like hot glue: sticking me to the air, not floating, but attached somewhere, somehow; always with a choking sensation, a gagging sensation. I could feel the bile risen at the back of my throat and the tears already stinging the backs of my eyes, but it was frozen there. unmoving. I was stuck in a permanent state of suffering.. That place in your break down, the place where nothing’s worth it; the place where everything hurts the worst, and it wouldn’t let go. It held me there, unable to shake away any of the excruciating pain. A low buzzing occupied the eery silence, complimenting the only thought the dark lord would allow me: Gerard loves me. This should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t. I’d made a mistake, and I felt it… I knew it… But I was helpless. Caught in the void.

“Frankie” a familiar,  low, charming voice called out to me from somewhere. It was like an echo, a soft sound, but still everywhere, filling up my head and mind, choking me even more. “I’ve come for you… It’s time for you to come home with me, sweetheart.”

How long had it been? I couldn’t tell. It could be hours, days, months, even years. But, now it was time to go. Now I was floating, but not upwards: I think. There was no ceiling or floor, I could’ve been upside down and I’d never know. There was no direction there. An invisible force pulled me from my stagnant, painful position; finally releasing me from the grips of panic. I gulped up the air, breathing heavily and blinking rapidly. I couldn’t see anything, even the white was gone. It was something else. Something indescribable. There was no colour or shade anymore; my body wasn’t there, I just was. I knew I was somewhere, but I was just existing. There was nothing but the force, constantly pulling me towards an unknown destination, following the charming voice.

Suddenly, it stopped. The same wave of nausea from before hit me, but this time I didn’t feel the panic. I wasn’t in the void anymore… I was somewhere else. It was dark here, with blinding white lights peaking out from random places in the walls, floor and ceiling. The voice’s owner was nowhere to be seen, I was completely alone. I breathed in deeply, appreciating perhaps for the first time my ability to do so. I could once again feel my chest rising and falling, letting me know I was alive. My legs tingled, prickles running up and down them. Somehow, this told me ‘move forward’, so I did. I closed my eyes and lifted my leg to take a single step, only to be met with the blare of what must’ve been thousands of sirens. I resisted the urge to scream and cover my face, instead, standing completely still. I couldn’t show them I was afraid. I couldn’t…

The sirens finally stopped after what seemed like an eternity of whaling, and the noise was replaced with an aching silence. The void was soon filled with a new voice, a bright, cheery female voice.

“Hello, Frank Iero, and welcome to layer one. Your hell begins now. Thank you for doing business with us.” with an audible click, the voice was gone, and I was alone again. It was the white void again, choking me and freezing me; my only thought: Gerard loves me.

Gerard's POV

When I woke up, Frank wasn’t in his bed. I sat up and heard a whimpering from the ground. There was fear in his eyes, but this wasn’t a normal type of fear. He looked distant, like his mind wasn’t in the house. The realization hit me like a blow to the stomach. Not my darling Frankie. Not him. No!

There was a slip of paper on the desk. It read: Hello, Mr. Way. If you want him safe again, follow these instructions exactly. I looked over at Frank shaking, crying out. Don Peters, lives 289 Parkway Drive. Bring me his soul. You’ll know what to do. More notes will appear once you’ve finished your jobs. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.

There was a tinge in my heart. I don’t know what it was; anger, sadness, worry. I couldn’t feel anymore. My emotions had started blending together and bleeding on each other like colored clothes in a washing machine. All I was sure about was the burning sensation all over my body. Cold as ice and hot as coals all at the same time.

I concentrated on the address on the slip of paper for what seemed like ten minutes before I began to melt away. When I opened my eyes, I was in a dark room. There were two girls tied up and a man standing holding a bloody knife. One of the girls lay still in a pool of blood. The other sobbed and pleaded for her life.

“Don Peters,” I said in a rough, broken voice. He responded, mouth gaping open in surprise. His feet moved quickly for a bigger guy. He tried to slash me with his knife, but I moved last second. It’s not like it would have made a difference, anyway, I mean, I was already dead.

Swerving behind him, I placed my hand on his shoulder and dug my nails into his skin. There was a light blue light underneath his skin and I grasped on to it. Using all of my strength, I ripped his soul away from him. Don landed in a heap on the ground. The next thing did was walk over to the girl who was sobbing.

“I’m gonna help you, okay?” I whispered softly. “I won’t hurt you.” She looked to be about fifteen, with scared, brown eyes and tangled black hair. Slowly, I brought my hands to the knots and untied the rope. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“K-krisie,” she mumbled. I smiled at her.

I stated, “My name is Gerard. I’ll get you out.” I stood her up and held her hands. The dirty metal walls melted away. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her half naked body when we got to the police station. Nobody seemed to see me as she explained.

When I returned to the house, Frank was still on the floor. I picked him up and placed him gently in the bed. Trying my best not to cry, I stroked his hair and tried to calm him. He closed his eyes and mumbled nonsense. His mind wasn’t here still, but I knew he could hear me. Frank was trying to respond to me.