Letters To Gerard. [Frerard]

Interlude: Gerard.

Gerard opened the door to the apartment, hungover and reeking of alcohol. He stumbled inside, closing the door clumsily. His hair was greasy and matted, and his eyes were barely open. He heard crying coming from one of the rooms, and thought nothing of it - after all, it was likely to be Frank being a whiny bitch again.

He shuffled into the front room, not expecting anything major, and gasped. He never, in his hungover daze, expected this. Frank was lying on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, and he was crying so hard he could barely breathe. Furthermore, he was bleeding.

"Frank, oh my God, what happened to you?" Gerard cried, falling to his knees beside his love.

Frank just cried harder, shying away from Gerard. After all, it was Gerard's fault that Bert had come over, it was Gerard's fault he was in this mess, so it was Gerard's fault that he'd been beaten up.

"Sweetheart, talk to me. Who did this?" Gerard begged, and Frank tried to speak, tried to push out that four-letter word, but he couldn't.

With a pained sigh, Gerard picked the smaller man up in his arms, and despite Frank's cries of pain, he took him into the bedroom and lowered him gently onto the bed.

Frank whimpered, his whole body aching and burning. He couldn't tell where he was bleeding from; maybe there were too many places, or maybe it was just one. He didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He lay there, drifting in and out of dizzying consciousness, as Gerard patched up his wounds and made sure that he was okay.

Gerard hadn't seen Frank like this since high school. The whole ordeal worried him, because he hated it when Frank was hurt like this. He could guess who had done it, but needed confirmation from the man himself. It didn't look like he was getting that any time soon, however, judging by the ragged breaths and the winces of pain he saw from Frank.

"Gee..." He rasped, suddenly clutching onto Gerard's hand. "It hurts..."

"I know, baby. I know." Gerard dropped a kiss onto the younger man's forehead, tears forming in his eyes. "I'll be right back, okay? Do you want some water?"

Frank shook his head, which was painful. "Don't - d-don't go..."

"I won't be long, Frankie. I promise."

"No! You go a-all the t-t-time and you n-never come back!"

Gerard paused, stung. It was the truth, but he didn't need telling so. "I'll be back this time."

He put the medical stuff away, coming back with a glass of water for Frank. But by the time he entered the bedroom, the bruised man was drifting off to sleep, sprawled awkwardly on the sheets. Gerard lay beside him, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead.

"I love you..." Frank whispered, looking like it hurt to say, and it did. Not just physically, but mentally.

"I love you too." Gerard replied, closing his eyes.

Even if Frank didn't believe him, he was telling the truth. Because Gerard would always love him. Always.

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