Chapter Thirty Nine
When I got to Dewees house, I wasn't really sure what to expect. Especially when i banged on the door repeatedly for a good two minutes but got no reply. I knew he had to be in though, otherwise Ian wouldn't have sent me.
"Dewees?" I hollered through the letterbox, struggling to see anything through the tiny gap "it's Frank, open up!"
I waited about another minute before I finally heard the sound of the bolt sliding across, and the door was opened, but only partially. Dewees stood in the crack, looking even worse than last time i'd seen him. The bruises on his face had turned a yellow shade, but that wasn't what made me sigh. It was his bloodshot eyes, shaking hands and mildly spaced out expression that told me he'd hit the drugs hard in an attempt to deal with it all.
"Frank" he gulped, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me into the house. The moment I was over the threshold he slammed the door behind me, as if it would somehow help the situation "Ian rang... said you were coming... Didn't realise he meant now I...." He stumbled and slurred over his words.
"Well that much is obvious, I doubt you'd have got so high if you knew I was coming over" I raised an eyebrow at him "I can't exactly preach at you right now, but I still think you should stop." I didn't want Dewees to get high enough that he made mistakes, especially as he was basically the person I now relied on to keep me out of juvie.
"Right. Yeah. Sure thing" he blatantly lied, but I chose to ignore it for now and get on with what I actually needed.
"So er, as much as i'd like to stay and make small chat, what do I need to pick up?" I glanced around his house, which seemed to be in it's usual mess, wondering where everything must be stashed.
"Oh. Yeah" He turned and started to scurry over to the bathroom. I waited in the hallway and listened to him as he rummaged around in here "Ian told me you'd need the red-labelled bag. It's just... ah! Here it is!" He came out of the bathroom with a sealed black plastic bag, much like the ones you use to send clothes in, expect i'd be kidding myself if I believed for one second that this was a mere band shirt.
"Okay" I grabbed it from him and stowed it away into my bag "er, I better go. No doubt I'll see you again soon though."
"Yeah. Er, good luck with that" He gestured to my bag.
"Thanks" I sighed "I think i'm going to need it."
***
It was 4:55am, and I was sliding down the bank of a bridge.
Normally I never would've dreamt of getting up so early, but it actually worked out better this way. I could get down to the bridge, hand over the bag and get home before James and Isabel even realised i'd gone out.
When I got to the bridge, the nerves had fully hit. Up till then i'd just pushed them to the back of my mind and told myself to man up, that this was far better than any alternative. Of course, this was true, but it didn't make it pleasant when I scrambled down the bank, quickly regretting wearing my jeans that were ripped at the knees. I guessed muddy knees were the least of my problems though.
Hey - maybe the mud would hide the bruises I still had from the unexpected church blow job that had taken place a week or so previously.
Thinking of Gerard sent a new wave of determination through me as i realised I had to do this for him. If i told the police about Ian then i'd be sent into witness protection immediately. Now, if you'd given me that option when I first arrived at James and Isabel's house, I would've jumped at it. It would've meant getting away from all of them and being relocated, preferably without my parents, and then I wouldn't have James breathing down my neck every five minutes.
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Devil's Work (Frerard / Priest!Gerard)
FanfictionFrank Iero was given two options by his parents: go to juvie or move to England to live with his heavily-catholic relatives. He chose the second, seeing it as a challenge as to how long his aunt and uncle would be able to put up with his troublemaki...