Not Just A Fantasy (Angel)

Gerard is a boy who once had a family. A loving one, with a mother to tuck him in at night. A father to teach him how to catch a baseball. He could still remember those times. He clung to those memories, like one might cling to the root while dangling over a bottomless hole. Because now, his parents fought. Every day, every night. They never hit each other, though. That is for Gerard. Hitting in the family to just Gerard receiving the off-handed slaps, the punches, the everything. At school he was a loner. Everyone ignored the singer, except when they wanted to add to the bruises coating the boys body. And so this was how Gerard lived. Just taking the punches, never striking back, for the boy had a heart of gold. He did have one happy memory. Of that boy, at the street corner, with rags for clothes. He treasured that memory- it was just for him. All his.

Frank has no memory of his family. He was abandoned when he was young, alone, to take his chances in the world. And, against the odds, he had overcome. He had survived . He had thrived. He was used to simply taking care of himself, looking out for himself, taking responsibility for himself.He was the ghost boy in the shadows of the city, the boy you barely saw, and never heard speak. He hasn't spoke since that day, when he saw the boy. The perfect boy. After the boy disappeared, he just didn't feel the need to speak. He didn't have any connections, no friends.He didn't need to speak. But he started to wish for more as he grew older. To be more then the homeless, alone boy. He wanted someone to talk to, to comfort, to simply interact with. But he didn't see that coming anytime soon.And so he kept his mouth shut.

This is for my best friend gerardbiersack.

Warning: This story is going to be sad. I'm literally going to try to make you sad.