Never Coming Home

Epilogue

A/n: Sorry for going missing. Summer is over and I found the inspiration to write again. Enjoy!

The two boys sat side by side on their couch in the middle of their small apartment in New York city. Their old rickety television set buzzed with static.

It has been three months since Frank and Gerard escaped from Parallax, yet the horrendous events shocked the nation still to this day. Frank's face scrunched in anger and Gerard grimaced as they watched the news, reporting on the past month's story. It was the trial of Parallax's president, Lindsey Ballato. Accompanying her was Richard Stroph, the surgeon, and Brendan Urie, the accomplice. There were many faces that the two boys couldn't recognize, Frank figuring that they were the hands behind the hazmat gloves and blindfolds.

Gerard stood up and rushed to the bathroom, and Frank could hear his boyfriend spilling the contents of his stomach into their toilet bowl. Getting away from Parallax wasn't as peachy as Gerard thought it would be and it isn't easy for Frank to constantly reassure his lover. At times, Frank would wonder why he was always the one to care for others. He felt as if he had no one to talk to about the things he experienced in that awful building. Through Gerard's night terrors and bouts of nausea, Frank often felt alone and forgotten. He knew that their relationship was built off of dependency.. or fear. In all honesty, Frank just wanted to be happy. As selfish as he thought he was being, Frank still felt as if... Gerard was one of the people who kept him in his self loathing tar pit.

But Frank felt stuck. He was worried. Worried that if he left Gerard, he would be another tear in the poor boy's heart. What was worse? Staying with him because of pity or leaving him because of selfishness.

Maybe its the fact that Frank never loved Gerard at all. Maybe Gerard was a distraction from all the terrible things going on in his life because for once, once Frank wanted to be a normal teen. A teen who dated. A teen who had sex. A teen who played guitar and ate junk food. A teen. Cause that's all Frank was. He was a Teen.

Gerard was an adult.

Frank still had to go to college. He had to get a job. He still needed to buy his own house, not live in some shitty apartment that the city donated to him because they felt bad.

Frank needed to live and right now, it was too early to settle down.

Gerard returned from the bathroom, smelling of fresh mint. He must've just finished brushing his teeth.

"Hey.. Gerard?" Frank asked, his stomach fluttering. Gerard sighed and leaned his head on the young boy's shoulder.

"Yeah?" he answered.

Frank grimaced, suddenly moving away from the older man. His stomach hurt.

"We need to talk."

Gerard perked up and glanced at Frank with questioning eyes.

Frank felt sick.

It was as if every time their eyes met, Frank was pulled back to that moment he met Gerard's eyes in the surgeon's room. He remembered the fear, the pain, and the taste and smell of his own blood. Frank could remember Gerard screaming "Take me instead" as he pounded on the foggy window in front of him. Every time Gerard smiled, it would be clouded over by the surgeons smirk as he dug the blade of his scalpel into Frank's abdomen time and time again.

This wasn't healthy. Frank needed to get out.

"Guilty" Frank heard the television say. His stomach twisted as he glued his eyes to the screen. The surgeon's proud smirk had fallen into a frown as he was sentenced to his death. He was found guilty for the murder of over two hundred people.

Frank would be at the trial, but due to Gerard's mental health, they were allowed to stay at home.

"I don't think.." frank paused and took in a breath. "I don't think we should live together."

Gerard faltered. "You don't love me?"

"It's not that," Frank responded, taking in a shaky breath. "It's just.. every time I see you I get reminded of that place. Of those people." He looked to the floor. "I just can't do it. I can't keep remembering all those horrible things that were done to me."

"You're being selfish." Gerard spat. "What about me? I went through the same shit as you. Don't you think I'm hurting too?"

Frank sighed, placing his heavy head into his calloused palms. He was so tired. He wished that everything could just stop. There was too much noise.

"I need you." Gerard pushed. "I can't do this on my own."

"You need professional help, Gerard." Frank mumbled into his hands. "I can't help you in the ways that you want me to. I just can't. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm nineteen, I just lost my mom and now I'm living in an apartment with a man I don't know." Tears welled up in his eyes. "Being with you is hurting me."

Gerard was silent, his wide gaze glued to Frank.

Frank stood up and grabbed his wallet. "I don't hate you." He said, "I just need to help myself before I can help anyone else." As Frank neared the door, he paused and looked back. "Don't give up on yourself. You're stronger than you think."

And with that, Frank exited his small apartment building and shut the door softly. He couldn't help the swarming thoughts and memories that raged through his mind while he trudged down the long hallway. He wondered what his life could have been if he stayed away from Parallax. His mother's death was inevitable. Maybe he just shouldn't dwell on what could have been. All he could do was walk away.

When Frank exited his building, there was a different bite to the outside air. Is was only October, just a day before his birthday. Yet somehow, the smallest snowflake seemed to land on the tip of his nose.

That's funny, Frank thought, it's snowing before it's even Halloween.

And with that, Frank didn't even let out a shiver as he trudged through the empty road. As a matter of fact, he didn't even feel cold. He almost laughed at the thought that maybe Parallax cured Frank of frostbite.

Or of any other sort of bodily harm.

Well...

Now that he thought about it, has Frank felt pain since leaving Parallax?