"FRANK!" I hear the sheer terror in his voice, as I jump in fright.
Turning away from my ramen I have just perfectly made, I begin to move towards the stairs, feeling fed up with this terrified boy.
This is the third time this morning he has woken up and screamed for me. Why won't he just stay asleep?
Walking towards the door, I hear the sound of heavy breathing and soft cries.
"Gee, what's wrong?" I ask as I move my way through the room and over to the boy balled up on his bed.
"I-I can f-f-feel him..." He trembles as I swallow hard.
I take a seat next to him, feeling sorry for the scared boy. His eyes are wet with tears and his lip is viciously bitten.
"Hey, he isn't here. Do you hear me? Gerard, hey, look at me." His dark eyes lock with my worried face, "Breathe."
He follows the deep breaths I take, calming himself down. I nervously place my hand in his shaking palm. He looks shocked and confused as I clear my throat.
"Focus on this. On my hands. What it feels like. Don't-I-just focus on my touch, not uh, not his." I shrug, noticing Gerard's wet eyes travel down to our hands, then back to my eyes.
"O-Okay." He whispers as he takes a deep breath.
He moves to laying in his bed again, never disconnecting our fingers.
As I hum a soft tune, I notice his shaking hands gripping mine tighter for a moment, when he shuts his eyes.
Just when I think he is gonna start crying again, his eyes shoot open and dart to me.
"Frankie?"
"Yeah?" I reply.
His eyes look away for a moment, before coming back to me, "I-um..." he swallows thickly, "Th-Thank you."
I smile softly, "All good, man."
He cracks a small smile, barely there, before his eyelids grow heavy.
Within minutes Gerard falls asleep, holding my hand and snoring slightly.
"Goodnight baby." I whisper, pulling my hands out of his, and moving out of the room.
As I walk down the stairs, I hear the sound of a car door. Damnit.
Just to make the morning shittier, as I poke my finger in my ramen to check the temperature, I find my finger being met with stone cold pasta.
"Hey Frank." Mrs. Way smiles wide as she enters the room.
Why do they have to come home today? I'd love for those controlling idiots to stay out of the house for a little while longer. Just until Gerard get's his shit together.
"Hi." I mumble, sounding agitated as I slam the microwave door shut, beginning to heat my poor ramen up.
I rub my slightly burning eyes. I don't know why, but I feel exhausted but awake. I feel so anxious and stressed and worried and-just-fuck. What do I do? Here I am, in a catholic house, with a woman who bows down to her annoying priest-husband, and watching their 'catholic' son spiraling out of control.
What have I done to him? Oh god, what the fuck did I do?!
"Frank!" I hear my name being shouted, pulling me out of my mind.
I sharply turn, looking wide-eyed at Mrs. Way.
"Huh?" I mumble, looking at her smirk.
"I asked where Gerard is?" She says, sounding slightly amused as I clear my throat, feeling the stress course through my bones.
"He um, he is asleep. I don't think he is feeling well. Looked sick when he woke up this morning so um, he uh, yeah...went to sleep..." I lie, watching her face grow concerned.
"Oh...is he okay? I better check on him" She sighs, as Mr. Way walks in with two suitcases.
I shake my head, "I just did. He is still asleep. No need to check on him." I quickly say as her concerned eyes stare at me.
Flicking my eyes to Mr. Way, his expression shows confusion.
"What's wrong?" He asks.
Mrs. Way turns to him, showing a concerned face as she speaks.
"Gerard is in bed still. He is sick." She says as I look between them, feeling nervous.
Please believe the lie...
Mr. Way's eyebrows shoot up, "Oh. He didn't look too good when we left if I remember right. Seemed...off or something."
I nod vigorously, "Yeah. He didn't." I add.
Mrs. Way looks to me, frowning, "Let me know if he needs anything." He then turns to her husband, "Let's unpack."
Feeling the wonderful relief fill me, I watch them leave to their bedroom.
Thank fuck they believed the lies!
YOU ARE READING
Fight Fire with Fire (Frerard)
FanfictionI wanted to both kiss the bruises off his poor milky skin and cause more. He was an asshole. A pure descendant of the devil. Why did I ever let him in my life? The moment I laid eyes upon him was the moment I knew his middle name spelt trouble. -- G...
