Unholyverse

~Part 15~

When he returned, Gerard appeared from the shadows in the corner. "You came back."

"I promised." Frank held up the vial of ink. "I don't know if this might sting," he said, frowning. "It has Holy Water in it."

Gerard smirked. "I can take it."

Frank nodded and unscrewed the cap, dipping the brush in. The first touch against Gerard's skin made him hiss and pull away - as Frank kept working, the skin on Gerard's neck began to blacken and crack, but Gerard stayed still and silent after the first moment, until Frank was done.

"Okay," Frank said, putting the ink aside. "We can take the van. I still have the keys."

"Let's go," Gerard said, but Frank stopped him with a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

"Just..." Frank shrugged shyly. "I don't know. Thank you."

Gerard smiled and pulled Frank close again. "Believe me, Frank, it's my pleasure."

Frank turned his face to Gerard's and kissed him, deeply, sighing when Gerard pulled him up against his body and held him there, tight, one of Frank's legs slipping in between Gerard's.

"You were right," Frank whispered in his ear when the kiss broke, settling his hands firmly on Gerard's shoulders.

Gerard nuzzled the side of his face. "About what?"

"I don't do what I'm told," said Frank, and with a flick of his wrist he shook the rosary out of his sleeve and jammed the crucifix as hard as he could into the broken skin on Gerard's neck. Gerard howled and staggered, hands coming up to clutch at his neck; Frank shoved on his shoulders, sending him to the ground, and followed him down. "You think I'd sell him out for sex?" he hissed, throwing his leg over Gerard's hips and pinning him to the ground. "You stupid motherfucker, you don't know the first fucking thing about me."

He screwed the crucifix into Gerard's neck again, slapping Gerard's hands away hard when he screamed and clawed at his throat. "Mikey, now!"

Mikey came running in, Ray hot on his heels. They skidded to their knees next to Gerard and Mikey shoved a book into Frank's free hand. "Read."

Frank recited the words on the page, but he wasn't really seeing them. Mikey was following Ray's frantic instructions as he used his arms and knees to help Frank keep Gerard pinned to the floor. It was awful; Gerard was writhing and wailing, he was cursing them and saying terrible things about them, about their mothers, about himself. He convulsed so violently his head cracked a tile on the kitchen floor and he spat blood, shuddering, jerking like every word Frank spoke was a bullet, like every move Mikey made was acid in his face. Frank kept the crucifix driving into Gerard's neck even when he smelled burning flesh.

Gerard ripped his arm free and his hand clamped tight around Frank's throat; Frank choked and kept reading, looking at the book instead of at Gerard's face, at his eyes, which were black with rage and betrayal. Gerard convulsed once more, his fingers spasming around Frank's throat before he twisted and vomited a stream of blood and blackness onto the floor, and then he slumped there, retching and heaving, all the tension leaving his body at once.

Frank dropped the book and took the crucifix back at once. He climbed off Gerard and collapsed onto the floor, instead, while on the other side Mikey gathered Gerard up into his arms, unmindful of the mess on the floor. Gerard sounded - well, he sounded like a man who'd just been through something that really fucking hurt, breathing out hoarse, shaky sobs against Mikey's chest. Mikey shushed him; he'd lost his glasses, Frank couldn't see them anywhere, but he saw the side of Gerard's ash-pale, tear-stained face when he struggled to ask Mikey,

"Is it gone?"

Mikey shook his head, and Gerard hid his face again. Mikey rocked him back and forth. Frank looked at him, at Ray, at the wreckage of the kitchen.

They were all silent. There was nothing to say.