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“I wish I could have done more,” Gerard said finally, as the silence stretched on. Frank was watching his mother, drinking her in as though to memorize every detail. “I wish—”

Frank’s mom looked up and smiled at him, a lopsided smile, and it was such a familiar expression that Gerard’s chest hurt. “You did plenty. They never would have found him, without you. James said they wouldn’t have ever caught those men.”

“James?” Gerard said faintly, bewildered, because he didn’t understand why she was smiling. There were tears glimmering in her eyes, and she was still smiling even as she swiped at them.

“James Dewees. Agent Dewees, now. He was Frankie’s best friend, you know.”

“With the tie!” Gerard exclaimed. He’d forgotten that the agent had been Frank’s friend. To be honest, everything that had happened at the cabin all seemed like a nightmare now, hazy and confused. But he remembered Agent Dewees pretty well—the brightness of the pink tie, the skull earring peeping through his hair, the kindness of his smile.

“Yes!” Linda said, smiling in earnest now. “I saw that tie, too. James was always a bit… unique. But so was Frankie. He never belonged here. He was your age, you know.”

“I know,” Gerard said, staring at his hands. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes. He’d survived. Her son hadn’t. It wasn’t fair, and he knew it.

“You don’t belong here either, do you?” she murmured, smiling again, putting a hand on Gerard’s knee, and Gerard was forced to admit that she was right. Even if there were parts of Glen Fell that weren’t so terrible—still, he wasn’t going to be here forever, and he was glad. He’d be taking the best parts of Glen Fell with him when he went, as far as he was concerned.

“Frank could never wait to get out of here,” she continued. It was hurting Gerard’s head, to hear all the past tenses in her voice, to see how firmly she believed them. “To get back to Jersey. He hated this place. So. Thank you. I knew—I always knew he hadn’t run away. He wouldn’t have done that to me. I knew that. It’s—it’s good to be able to take him away from here at last. To be able to bring him home.”

She stood up, and Gerard automatically stood with her, hands fluttering helplessly.

“I think he’d have liked you,” she offered, tightening her coat around her, and Gerard tugged at the hem of his shirt, flushing. “I can tell. You’re an interesting person. Frank liked interesting people.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he stuttered, and she smiled, drifting towards the door. She didn’t seem to see Frank in the shadows, though she passed within a fingertip of him, her hair stirring in a faint indoor breeze.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again, Gerard,” she said, and her mouth tightened. “At the trial, if nothing else. But thank you for meeting with me. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It was no trouble,” Gerard said, and hovered by the door. “I’m—I’m glad to have met you. Not like this, I mean. I just—Frank seems like… like he was a great person. He had a lot of good friends. Ray Toro, James. I’m—I would have been honored to be friends with him.”

She smiled at him again, fragile but warm, and left.

“Why,” Gerard said, standing at the door, watching her go out into the grey, misty morning. She didn’t look back. “ Why didn’t you—”

“It would only hurt her,” Frank said quietly, and hooked his chin over Gerard’s shoulder, watching her go. He was trembling, very slightly. “She wouldn’t—she wouldn’t have been able to move on. This is… good. She’ll be okay.”

“But,” Gerard started, because he didn’t think he could have done that, if it’d been his mom walking away. Frank sighed, let his forehead fall to Gerard’s shoulder.

“Come back upstairs,” Frank said, almost begging. He rubbed his face against Gerard’s throat, biting at the pulse, and Gerard didn’t know what to think, could barely think at all beyond the immediate visceral need to tilt his head back, give Frank more access to his skin. Frank bit again, hard, a sharp throb that made Gerard gasp, then led him away from the door, back up the hall, hands snaking around and inside Gerard’s pants. This was so weird. It didn’t feel quite right, somehow, but Frank wasn’t giving him time to think. He lavished the wounded spot on Gerard’s neck with a cool tongue, whispering in a thick, filthy voice, and Gerard reacted instinctively, moaning and bucking his hips.

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, Frank slammed him against the wall and started kissing him fiercely, but it was different somehow—not the kind of fierce Gerard liked, the kind he’d felt before from Frank. This was vicious and intense, raw, and finally Gerard shoved Frank back.

“Wait,” he panted, and willed his stupid dick to just hold on. “Wait, I—”

Frank looked at him, scowled and rocked back on his heels. “What,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

“Frank—” Gerard said hesitantly, rubbing at his mouth. Frank was staring at him, eyes hard and unfamiliar. “That was your mom down there. Shouldn’t we—shouldn’t we talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Frank laughed, sharp and wild. “I don’t—can’t we just fuck, Gerard? Do we have to talk about fucking everything?”

“We’ve never talked about her at all,” Gerard said, heart pounding. He didn’t want to do this, wanted to just—just give Frank what he wanted, sex, hard and fast and a place to forget—but it was Frank’s mom. They couldn’t just pretend she hadn’t been there. “About her, or your dad. Or… or James. You never mention any of them.”

“What, you’ve been around a few fucking days and you think you know me now?” Frank growled, and Gerard couldn’t help but flinch, but, well. He remembered feeling like he’d lost everyone for an afternoon, just an afternoon—the guilt and pain. It’d been fucking agony. Frank had felt like that for an entire decade. Gerard swallowed and didn’t let himself look at the cruel tilt to Frank’s mouth. “You don’t know fucking shit. You’re a fucking kid, Gerard, so just—”

“I know you care,” Gerard said miserably, took a step forward, even though Frank’s eyes had gone dark and hollow, unfriendly, and the carpet beneath his feet crackled like frost. “I know you do. It’s okay, Frankie.”

“It’s not,” Frank spit out, and then his face crumpled. Gerard took a couple steps closer, then another. “It’s not—I left her—she was all alone, Gerard, and I left her. You saw her, she was so fucking sad. It’s my mom, and I did that to her, and I can’t fix it, don’t you get it? I can only make it worse, I can only—”

“Of course she’s sad,” Gerard interrupted, and Frank had wrapped his arms around himself, looked smaller and more alone than Gerard had ever seen, and Gerard ached to wrap him in a blanket, to keep him safe—stupid, fuck, it was so stupid. Frank was dead, and there was no safety, but that didn’t matter, not really, because Frank couldn’t stay like this, all twisted up inside and blaming himself. “Frank, she lost you, you didn’t leave her. They—they took you. Of course she’s sad.”

Frank looked up at him, wavering, and Gerard couldn’t help it. He was trying to go slow, but he couldn’t. He crossed the room in two strides and wrapped Frank in his arms and felt Frank collapse against him, muffling quiet sounds like sobs.

“It wasn’t your fault, Frankie,” he whispered into Frank’s hair, ignoring the crackle of thunder outside and the dipping temperature. “Frank, Frankie, she loves you so much; it’s not your fault. She never thought it was. I could tell, couldn’t you tell? Just hearing her talk, she never stopped loving you.”

“She was all alone. My dad left, and she was alone. I should have been there,” Frank managed, and Gerard rocked him and told him again and again. Not your fault. She loves you. She knows you didn’t leave her. You didn’t do anything wrong. I love you. You’re so fucking brave, Frankie. He just kept talking and talking, until his voice was hoarse and meaningless. It was the same sort of comfort he’d whispered over Mikey’s bed a hundred times, when Mikey couldn’t breathe and there wasn’t anything Gerard could do but be there, say I love you, say—even if it wasn’t true—that it would be okay.

Finally Frank stopped shaking, just went limp in Gerard’s arms.

“Hey,” Gerard croaked, and closed his eyes, breathing in the pine and smoke smell of Frank.

Frank touched a finger to the sore spot of skin on Gerard’s neck, where Gerard could already a sense a complete monster of a hickey coming up. “Sorry, Gee,” he said, voice soft, and Gerard offered him a crooked smile, the best he could manage.

“And you said you weren’t into human flesh,” Gerard joked, and leaned in, carefully kissed the corner of Frank’s mouth. “It’s okay. I kinda like it. I like, y’know. Seeing the marks you left. Helps me remember it’s not a dream.”

“Some dream,” Frank snorted, and turned his head so that their mouths met, and it became a real kiss, closed-mouthed and soft. “I am sorry, Gerard. I just—it’s my mom. ” His voice cracked. “Do you think I should have told her? About…” He motioned towards himself vaguely.

Gerard bit his lip, and then slowly shook his head. “No, I think you did the right thing. Maybe someday, if you can figure how to dreamwalk or whatever, or if you think she’s ready—but I think you’re probably right.”

Frank had raised an eyebrow when Gerard said ‘dreamwalk,’ but then he sighed and dragged Gerard over to the bed. He pushed Gerard down and then did that thing where he lay half inside Gerard, their torsos overlapping, melding. They gathered up the blankets in a giant fleece and quilt pile so Gerard didn’t shiver himself to pieces, and were just quiet for a while.

Despite the stress of the last few minutes, the adrenaline and worry, Gerard was getting sleepy again. He guessed it was his body trying to repair itself, or whatever. The doctors had told him to sleep as much as possible, now that the first 48 hours since the concussive injury had passed without incident, and Gerard seemed to be following that instruction a lot better than anticipated. He wanted to stay up for all-night marathon sex or cuddling, or the decade worth of TV and movies Frank had missed, but mostly he just nodded off and woke up drooling on Frank’s shoulder. Frank didn’t seem to mind, though.

“You okay?” Gerard managed, dragging his eyes back open, and Frank smiled at him, crooked and sad.

“Nah,” he said, and kissed Gerard’s nose. “But I will be. You will be, too.”

“Good, ‘s good,” Gerard sighed, and burrowed closer. They’d gotten the blankets piled on enough that it was getting almost hot now in the center of their little cocoon.

“Warm,” Frank sighed, and Gerard would never get over it, the feeling of it. It was like being half-submerged in cool lake water, but each ripple went through instead of around you. “Gee, you’re always so warm.”

“I’ll be your space heater if you’ll be my AC,” Gerard mumbled, and Frank chuckled quietly, his mouth so close to Gerard’s ear that it made warmth curl in his lower belly, even as he shivered. One day, dammit, Gerard was going to be awake long enough to have really awesome marathon sex with Frank, and it was going to be fucking great.

“Totally,” Frank agreed when Gerard sleepily voiced this thought. “But I can wait for you to feel better. I'd rather you were awake for it, you know? And I’ve waited for years, Gee. I told you, I’ll be here when you wake up. Now shut it, I’m trying to watch a movie.”

Gerard growled and with a supreme effort, leaned over and bit Frank’s nipple, grinning smugly at the squeak this produced before he snuggled down and went back to sleep.

***

It was kind of weird how little had changed at school. The town was technically in a shambles, but after Gerard had recovered, he had to go to class, and make up that damned Biology test, and suffer through the terrible school lunches. Ted and his friends still held court in the cafeteria, still wore their bright red letter jackets. The band kids still ate outside. Art class was still awful and boring and a lead weight upon Gerard’s soul.

But there were differences—subtle ones. Gerard had sort of expected the world to fall apart after he’d been kidnapped, and rescued, and the patriarchal pillars of the community had been dragged off in chains. Instead, it was just quieter. Students huddled in groups, talked in low voices. Every now and then someone would laugh and the sound would ring out, echo, and then vanish back into the hush.

Gerard hadn’t really thought about what his classmates would think of the whole thing. He’d known his friends would be upset, and he’d thought the baseball jocks would celebrate—apparently not true, and wow, he hadn’t even taken that one in yet—but he hadn’t thought about how it might affect everyone else. If he’d had to guess, he’d have assumed it wouldn’t affect them at all. The people he’d never talked to, the people that hadn’t noticed him, not even to throw spitballs or hiss insults—why would they care?

But they’d seen him in the halls, even if they’d never spoken to him, and he’d disappeared on the way to class. They’d all known it had to be someone in their own town that’d taken him—probably someone at their school. School wasn’t safe. What a shitty thing to realize, to have driven home. Even after all the shootings on the news, the stories on the web… it was different. People never really thought it could happen to them.

Eventually everyone would probably go back to their typical high school behavior, the halls full of the sound of teenage conversation and jostling and cruelty, but for now everything was hushed, in a state of quiet shock. It was weird realizing that he sort of missed the missed the familiarity of the status quo. He was never admitting that to anyone else, not even Mikey.

People mostly ignored Gerard now, gave him a slightly wider berth in the hallways, heads ducked down, like maybe they could catch abduction or post-traumatic stress, or whatever. He was fine with that—he had friends anyway, friends that stood by him. And, well, he supposed he was even more offputting than he had been before, since he now reportedly had a very unsettling tendency to talk to himself. That poor creepy Way kid, people were probably saying, God knows what happened to him out in that cabin. He’s cracked from the strain of it.

In reality, of course, it was just that Frank was wandering the halls with his hand in Gerard’s back pocket, snickering and mocking people and watching everything with wonder, and it was really hard not to engage in conversation with him. Gerard had never seen anyone—well, not seen, since Frank went all shadow-ninja-invisible while they were on school grounds—so entranced by a fucking high school.

It didn’t matter much when they were walking with Ray and Bob, because then Gerard could respond to Frank’s asinine asides about the girls’ locker room and argue that no, he didn’t think it’d be a good idea for Frank to steal paint from the art room and paint ‘The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened’ next to the boys’ bathroom. Frank had gotten way too into the whole Harry Potter thing, though he thought Harry himself was a little boring. The point was, while normally Gerard would have been all over some Fred and George-type pranks, people in school were fucking freaked out enough already and now wasn’t the time.

Frank had seemed sort of surprised when Gerard had pointed that out, though.

“Well, it wasn’t like they got fucking starved and concussed, the brain-dead fucking sheep,” he huffed, glaring as Tanya and a passel of her polished, pastel cheerleading ladies-in-waiting strolled past, carefully ignoring Gerard. “They’ve got nothing to fucking complain about. Especially her. ”

“Please don’t flip up their skirts again,” Gerard begged. “She wasn’t flirting with me, she was just being nice!”

“I told you, Gee, it was a trick of the wind,” Frank retorted, cheerful again. “And you gotta stop being so down on yourself, she totally wants in your pants. You’re famous. A total hero. And you’ve got that, you know—” Frank gestured at Gerard’s face vaguely. “She probably only wants to shack up with people as pretty as she is.”

“You think I’m pretty?” was all Gerard could think to say, beaming, and then there was a horrified cough behind them.

“I’m going to ignore that,” Ted said, eyeing Gerard warily, and Gerard could feel Frank, silent and emanating chill air, like an open freezer of potential disaster. “Look—I just. I need to talk to you.”

“He doesn’t get to talk to you,” Frank hissed, and Gerard flapped a hand at him in a way he hoped was subtle, and didn’t just look like a muscle spasm. Frank made an unimpressed noise, but subsided—though Gerard knew it was only momentary peace. In another three seconds, Frank would probably shove his knee through Ted’s dick. Which Gerard wouldn’t mind too much, except—he was sort of curious what Ted wanted. Ted hadn’t even mocked Gerard’s mascara or awesome new collection of hickeys, not once. He’d barely looked at him.

“I’m late for Art,” Gerard said out loud, hitching his bag up on his shoulder, watching Ted curiously. Ted seemed different, but in a way that was hard to define. He still had on all the typical King of High School Asshat accoutrements: the baseball cap, the sparkling enormous class ring. But he looked smaller, somehow, hunched in on himself. Which, you know, obviously—his dad and his uncle had just been arrested, mostly due to Ted’s own involvement. Which still didn’t make sense to Gerard. He’d have thought Ted would have cheered them on. A family tradition, fucking over the people that didn’t fit in, that upset their heteronormative order.

“It’ll only take a second,” Ted insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking like himself, annoyed and superior, for the first time in weeks. “Christ, like you’re really in such a hurry to listen to that geezer talk.”

“No,” Gerard admitted, but if Frank hadn’t been there, growling subvocally at his side like a terrier and clearly ready to leap on Ted and shove icy death up his nose, he’d have been a little more freaked out and worried about Ted wanting vengeance or whatever.

“Look,” Ted ground out, looking frustrated and embarrassed. “It’s just—I’m sorry, alright?”

“You’re what?” Gerard’s brain had come to a sudden, screeching halt. “ What?”

“You’re a freak, and a loser, and you’d better not ever even fucking look at my girlfriend,” Ted continued, cheeks ruddy, staring over Gerard’s shoulder. “But even little pansies like you don’t deserve—you know. Uncle Mark’s an asshole. He’s always been that way, even when we were kids, so—yeah. And I’m sorry for...” He made an awkward punching gesture and Gerard blinked. “Anyway, just. Whatever.”

“Yeah, well,” Gerard said, surprised and ignoring Frank’s indignant outburst about how he’d show Ted a fucking freak. “You’re a dumb fucking jock, and a homophobe, and you made my life fucking miserable for weeks. But. Thanks, I guess. You know, for calling the cops.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “They were your family, I mean—you probably saved my life.”

Ted shook his head immediately. “Look, it’s just… I don’t want to be like Uncle Mark. I don’t like faggots or anything, but I don’t want anyone to die. You’re… anyway. I wanted to let you know, and now I have. We straight?”

“Well, no,” Gerard couldn’t help but say and Ted barked out a laugh.

“Fucking hopeless, man,” he said, rolling his eyes, and sauntered off down the hallway.

“That was weird,” Gerard said finally, still staring long after the hallway was empty.

“You shoulda let me stuff him in a locker,” Frank grumbled. “You’re too fucking nice.”

“I just don’t want Bill Murray called out here to remove your pesky ass,” Gerard reminded him, because they’d already had a team of paranormal investigators bounding around for a little bit, but apparently Glen Fell’s ability to be staunchly unwelcoming to all outsiders came in handy, sometimes, because they’d left pretty quick.

“Hmmph,” Frank said, then, with an abrupt change of mood, poked Gerard in the side. “Hey, you know, you’ve already missed half of Art.” Gerard eyed him. They’ve missed maybe five or six minutes, tops.

“It’s a nice day out,” Frank continued innocently. “You wanna, I dunno. Take a walk? Might as well, right?”

“A walk, huh,” Gerard said, smiling helplessly. “Got anyplace in mind?”

They turned around and headed down the stairs, out through the empty halls, past the classrooms stuffed full of miserable kids and droning adults. High school was just a phase you had to live through, and it was almost over, and really, in the long run, it didn’t matter so much—Gerard could already tell. College wasn’t far off, luckily, and, well. He wouldn’t always let Frank talk him into skipping. Ray would have a fit, for one thing, and besides, Spring semester they were letting Mikey start taking classes again, and he had to be around for that.

“Oh, I have the perfect place in mind,” Frank said, holding the door open for him. If anyone had been in the hall, it’d have looked like a Jedi mind trick, the double doors parting for Gerard without any visible touch.

“You see,” he continued, ushering Gerard out into the sunshine, “there’s this stretch of wall out in the woods I’ve always imagined shoving someone up against. But I’m not sure you’d be into it. I know you hate the outdoors, delicate flower that you are.”

“I dunno,” Gerard said, and bumped his shoulder against Frank’s, delighted when Frank made an oofing noise and flickered visible, sticking his tongue out at Gerard and crinkling his nose playfully. “I heard the woods were haunted, and I’ve heard I’m sort of a pansy, you know.”

“And who the fuck says that?” Frank laughed, threading his fingers through Gerard’s. “Nobody that matters. Fuck anybody who thinks so, Gee—you’re the bravest motherfucker I’ve ever met. You know that, right? I mean it. We’re going to take the fucking world by storm once we get out of here, you and me.”

Frank was smiling, Cheshire-wide and real, and he was walking through the field, kicking at grass and rocks and watching them skip, and holding Gerard’s hand, and talking about comic books, and movie deals, and all the awesome stuff they were going to do when they finally left this tiny shitty town.

“You know, Glen Fell sucks, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” Frank said abruptly, just as they crossed over into the forest. “But I might kind of miss it. I mean, it isn’t all bad, right?” He glanced over and smiled.

“I can think of a few good memories,” Gerard agreed, smiling back and held Frank’s hand a little tighter as walked on through the fallen leaves.

“Just good?” Frank teased, eyes dancing, and then he started tugging Gerard along, speeding up. “Man, I must be doing this wrong. C’mon, Gee, let’s aim for fucking awesome.”

Gerard beamed back, tripping through the underbrush after Frank. Fucking awesome, he thought, seemed like a pretty damned attainable goal.

Дата добавления: 2014-12-23