Hardest Part (Frerard)

Realizations (Ch 23)

Realizations- Chapter 23 (Gerard's POV)

Fuck my boyfriend? The words took a minute to collect in my mind.

I knew he was abusive, I knew how horrible he was, but I hadn't known quite to the extent. I always thought Franks fear of being touched came from the physical abuse his dad had distributed, but sexual abuse? Reading info it, it made a lot of sense. Franks fear of drugs, his childish personality, him being asexual. I was slightly mad at myself for not figuring it out sooner.

My attention was brought back to my surroundings as Franks Father, also named Frank, turned to walk out of the room.

"Where the fuck..." I began, collecting a tight grip on his arm, "do you think you are going?"

He once again turned around to face me, his twisted smirk engraving itself within my mind.

I took a strong hold on his arm, squeezing to the point of even my fingers hurting.

"You are never fucking touching him again." I whimpered, feeling quite helpless against my sweet boyfriend's father's words.

I should have seen it coming, I should have known, why didn't he tell me?

***

Frank was terrified, but I had eventually convinced him to tell the cops everything. I had sat by his side, gingerly running my fingers through his hair. He was being so brave, he had no idea how proud I was of him within that moment. His father would finally be charged for more than the murder of his wife, but for abuse, both sexual and non.

"He..." Frank choked, "would come home drunk, throwing things at my mom and I."

The officer who joined us in Frank's hospital room took notes, silently nodding along to what Frank had been saying.

I adjusted myself, trying to get comfortable on the hospital bed. I had an arm wrapped around Frank's fragile neck, and my other hand gently rubbing his own.

"I would run to the bathroom, but he would-" Frank let out a cry, scrunching his eyes closed. I hugged him close, assuring him that everything was alright, that he was safe now.

Frank's father had been sent off with a 25 year sentence in prison, along with a strict restraining order. If he, or any of his associates tried to contact Frank in any way, his father would be stuck in prison for life. I will never forget the expression on Frank's face when he had found out. When his dad had finally got what was coming.

"I love you, so so much," He sobbed, awkwardly hugging me in a way that didn't irritate his tender stitches.

I smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"I love you too sweets," I replied, slowly helping him off of the gurney. "Now lets get you home, I just talked with the doctors and they cleared you to come home with me." I winked, leading him to our little car.

***

Frank yawned almost immediately as he walked through the front door, walking into the bedroom and carefully flopping down on it. I crawled up beside him, leaning my cheek on my hand as I looked at his tired features. "Does this mean we cant do dirty stuff anymore?" I whined, motioning towards his bandaged chest.

He raised an eyebrow, pushing himself off of the bed and slowly lowering himself onto my stomach. "Oh baby, " he mumbled sleepily, "how could I ever stop being dirty with you?"

I giggled, kissing his rose dusted cheeks.

He carefully sturdied my head between his soft hands, lowering his chapped lips onto my own. He sheepishly sucked on my bottom lip, obviously questioning his kissing abilities.

I let out a small noise, moving my hands to desperately claw at his hair.

He pulled away, moving down to my jaw.

"You-" I cut myself off as he moved down to my neck, "are getting..better." I whimpered.

He stopped working on my neck, panting slightly, "At kissing?" He questioned, returning to his previous actions.

"No... Ah, yes!" I cried as he slowly sucked on a tender spot. "You- you are getting more... comfortable," I stuttered, struggling to collect my thoughts under his touch.

"Mhm," he sighed through more kisses, "well, I don't have anything to worry about anymore, do I?"

I closed my eyes, allowing Frank's lips to continue searching my neck. "You... Frank-mmh, Iero, are the love of my life."

"Same to you," he muttered, allowing his head to fall beside mine. He snuggled against me, and I wrapped my arms around him, careful not to press across his wound. Within a matter of minutes, the two of us had drifted to sleep.

***

"Gee!" His small voice hummed, and Frank skipped into the bedroom.

I groggily sat up, rubbing my tired eyes. I looked over to the small alarm clock that rested on the bedside table, the time read 9:17 AM. I turned to Frank, a smile filling my face as I eyed his adorable features.

"Hey, sweets," I murmured, slowly getting out of bed.

He pulled me up, wincing slightly, "I made us breakfast."

I followed him into the kitchen where a fresh stack of double chocolate pancakes were laid out. They looked slightly overcooked, though I couldn't quite tell over the amount of chocolate he seemed to have put in. They weren't exactly pancake shaped, but I was proud of him for trying.

I sat down, watching him top his pancakes in chocolate chips and chocolate syrup, the kid loved chocolate.

It was a Monday, meaning my first class wasn't till 10:30. Frank wouldn't be in school for another week, for his wounds needed time to heal.

I topped my pancakes in raspberries and a little syrup, not wanting them to be too sweet, and started eating. The pancakes weren't burnt, if anything they were a little undercooked, but were still delicious. I felt myself start laughing and looked across the table to see Frank eyeing me with a confused look.

"Sorry," I breathed, trying to soften my giggles, "It's just that these are actually good-" I started to laugh again.

Frank pouted, looking down at the chocolate mess in front of him. "You should have known that I could only cook well if it had to do with chocolate."

I nodded in agreement, smiling uncontrollably.

Frank brought our dishes to the sink, vigorously scrubbing at them. I watched his face scrunch up as he angrily scraped at a chocolate chunk that wouldn't come off.

"Gerarddd," I whined, "It isn't working, I need help."

I got up and made my way to the small boy, I gently took his hand, causing him to release the dish sponge into my own. "You made us this wonderful breakfast, Frankie. Please let me clean up." 

He nodded, not wanting to argue with me doing his work, and sat down on the couch. He turned on the TV, switching it to the food channel.

"So thats where you learned to cook," I played, motioning at the screen.

He rolled his eyes at me, turning around to face the show. I quietly laughed, knowing he didn't disagree with me.

This boy, Frank Anthony Iero Jr, had been through so much, faced so many challenges, and came out so strong through it all. He had suffered through rape, self harm, abuse, and abandonment, but looking at him now, laughing at the bad cooks on TV, I could tell. My sweet Frankie would be okay.