Mars || Frerard AU

The Importune of Therapy

~~

"C'mon Gerard, don't be all grumpy with me. It's just for one hour, and then I'll pick you up, and you can go back to your same old routine of locking yourself in the basement."

Gerard's grip on the door handle tightened, his face pressing harder against the glass, in a poor attempt to ignore his nagging mother.

"It's just for a few weeks, and then your done. Have you taken your medicine today? You know they prescribed it to you for a reason, Gerard."

Gerard kept silent, locking his eyes to a big building, it's structure standing out from all the other buildings around.

"Gerard, I know you are upset about everything that has happened in the past, but please don't bottle it up. You know it's not healthy."

This time, Gerard took a moment to lift his head from window to look at Donna.

"What do you want me to say, mom?"

Donna glanced at Gerard, pulling her car into the parking space.

"I want you to say you'll try, try to get better not just for Mikey and I, but for you as well, Gerard. You owe it to yourself."

Letting out a sigh, Gerard popped open the door climbing out. "Goodbye, mom."

--

"So Gerard, I've heard things have been rough lately?"

Gerard prohibited himself from acknowledging the middle aged man across from him.

He picked at the hang nails around his fingers, biting down on the skin a few times.

"Gerard, I understand you don't want to be here, but I'm here to help you. To be your friend."

The younger man snorted. "Friend?  No thanks."

Dr. Iero stared at Gerard kind of surprised by the rude approach.

"So you are talking to me now?"

Silence

"That's alright, I'll get you to speak to me."

The two of them sat in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Gerard completely engrossed in getting rid of any unnecessary hang nails, and Dr. Iero examining Gerard from his brown leather chair.

The silence was broken when a boy walked in the room.

The first thing you noticed was his grasp on the metal door. His hand hung loosely, like a dead fish.

On his hands were black cotton gloves, with a skeletal hand printed on the back.

The boy was short, with black slick hair that only seemed to compliment his prominent jawline.

'Misfits' stuck out in bold creepy letters on his shirt, as black jeans clung to his perfectly formed legs.

Gerard let his eyes wonder over the boy till the boy himself stared back at him.

Gerard felt his head throb from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain. He didn't even know he was holding his breath until he let out a choppy puff of air.

"Frank what are you doing here? I told you, you can't just barge in."

The boy, Frank, stood next to the leather chair. His posture kind of slumped over like he held a pile of books on his back.

He spoke in whisper, but Gerard could still hear.

"You said you'd pick me up from the hospital."