If you should fall...

Hysteria. [Chapter Nine]

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 19:07:37 GMT

Title: Hysteria
Author: That would be me. (ferardx4ever)
Disclaimer: ~~I own everyone.~~ I have dreams, y'know...
Rating: PG
POV: Guys I lied, it's always gonna be third.
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main), Rai Johnson/Frank Iero, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons
Summary: “Fine.” He muttered, sounding like a combination of ashamed, disappointed and scornful. “You know what, I'll leave you alone Frank. But one of these fucking days, your going to realize you can't shut yourself out from everything, and lie to everyone.” Frank opened his mouth to say something in defense, but Gerard interrupted him, “Save it, I already got the message from the last hundred times you shouted at me.” And that was that.
Ever since sixteen year old Frank Iero's boyfriend, Rai Johnson raped him, he can't seem to rid himself of self blame. Will Gerard ever be able to break Frank's daily routine of lies, and save the boy from himself?
Author's Note: I am not quite sure about finishing Along Came Sarah Way, there's a lot of editing to be done. And right now, this story is ready to go... It may be continued someday if I get around to fixing it. Anyway, this is a based on one of my other fics, Getting Away With Murder. Some of the scenarios in this story are stolen from there.
Warnings: Homosexuals, sexual, physical, and verbal abuse, depression, boy secks, rape.

{Chapter One: Saved By the Bell}
{Chapter Two: Don't Look Back, You Can Never Look Back}
{Chapter Three: This Is How I Live}
{Chapter Four: Assumptions and Lies}
{Chapter Five A: The Hold On Sanity}
{Chapter Five B: The Hold On Sanity}
{Chapter Six: One more...}
{Chapter Seven: Silent As The Grave}
{Chapter Eight: Mikey Can't Drive}

Mind you, Frank had tried several times to call the Way house again. But, there was no response, and he didn't have any luck with calling Mikey's cell phone, either. Mikey hardly ever answered his cell phone. He contemplated on whether he should runaway where the Way brothers would never be able to find him – or just dive into the bushes next to him on the sidewalk. But, both sounded like bad ideas.

He wasn't ready for this – he wasn't ready to see Gerard. Maybe if he got lucky, Gerard would be so angry with him that he would refuse to Mikey to drive him anyway. Oh, how he'd love for that... Although, he wasn't going to a lie, a part of him was ecstatic to be able to see the boy again. He could already imagine him in his head...his soft, delicate, white skin would be glowing, making it appear as if it threatened he would shatter if anyone laid a hand on him. His green eyes would sparkling, and his hair would be matted in the perfect way – almost scruffy...but in a sexy sort of way. He grinned at the thought of him in his presence.

He squinted at some sort of light coming towards him, and glanced up to see Gerard's car rolling towards him. He froze, feeling like his feet were gorilla-glued to the concrete. What would he say to him? Should he just act like he wasn't even there? Or maybe should he just act like nothing happened? Both were pretty good options... He liked the first one best. He finally came to his senses and approached the vehicle.

He opened the door to the backseat, sliding in next to Mikey. Inside, it was silent. Gerard was staring straight ahead out the front window, not even greeting Frank as he entered. He closed the door, not even bothering to strap himself in with the seatbelt. Even Mikey seemed to be a little awkward – well, he kind of just seemed baffled. He didn't say anything – and had been questioning his brother's behavior earlier when he asked kindly if he could help him pick his best friend up. His inquiring brown eyes shifted frequently between his older brother, and Frank, trying to figure it out.

Frank just kept his eyes glued to the window, watching the world pass him by. He had this lump in his throat from trying hold back so much emotion. He took a quick peek at Gerard, whose hands were gripped tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles had turned white – if it was even possible for them to be any whiter than already were... Okay, so he was definitely cross – at least now he knew for sure...

The fact that Gerard was infuriated with him made him want to cry – in fact he could already feel tears burning his eyes. He wanted to just break down and apologize right then and there.

Suddenly, Gerard peered over his shoulder, and their eyes met for a second. Frank prayed he couldn't see that his eyes were glistening as he averted his gaze back to the window. He could have sworn he heard Gerard sigh, but he could have just imagined it.

Finally, they were at the house, and Gerard stepped out of the car hurriedly, slamming the door behind him. “Your sister called the house earlier. Said it would be best if you stayed with us.” Mikey said to Frank as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Frank felt his face heat up – he was going to kill Kellie. “She what?!” Frank squeaked, freezing in the middle of his action to open the side door. Mikey just raised his eyebrows, “She said you should stay with us...” He repeated, a little more slowly.

Frank's eyes widened, and forgot he was leaning on the door handle. “Are you s-?” Before he could finish, he fell back against the door, and he it flew open, causing him to fall flat on his ass out of the car. He could hear Mikey snickering, and then erupting into uncontrollable laughter as he hopped out of the car, circling around to the other side. Even Gerard stopped dead in his tracks, trying to hold back a smirk. Even Frank couldn't help but at least chuckling, until all three of them were doubled over in hysterical fits of laughter. Eventually it died down, and they nearly forgot what they were laughing at.

“Man, I can believe you just...fell out of the car!” Mikey cried, reminding them all, which sent them back to guffawing. “Need a hand?” Gerard asked, offering his his hand to Frank, who gripped it, pulling himself up, still giggling. Until he remembered what had happened between them, and instantly let go. Gerard must have recalled too, seeing as he pulled away equally fast. They all headed inside after Gerard unlocked the door. The second they entered, Mikey's cell phone started ringing, Anthrax blaring out of its speakers. He took it out of his pocket, and Frank could see the caller ID – it read, “Alicia”. Normally, Mikey would just turn off his phone and ignore the call unless it was his parents or something.

But now, he chose to pick it up. “Oh, so now you answer your phone?” Frank questioned angrily, “Of course he does, because now there's a hot chick on the other end.” Gerard replied, and Mikey flipped them off before rushing up the stairs for some privacy. “Hey Leash, what's up?” They heard Mikey greet her after he shut the door to his room – leaving Frank and Gerard alone.

Just the thing that Frank had been hoping not to happen... Of course – just his luck... Frank kept his eyes fixated on his Vans, occasionally sneaking glances at Gerard, who was biting his nails. Before he could even ponder his decision, Frank found himself blurting out, “Can we talk about this?” Gerard's head snapped in Frank's direction, glaring at him. But, his eyes were blank – showing no scorn or sadness. “About?” He inquired, and Frank just rolled his eyes. “You know what about.”

“Sure Frank, let's talk... What about, hm? How you keep shoving me away? Sure, let's talk about it!” Gerard shouted with mock enthusiasm. “You're the one who's always nagging me every waking moment to tell you about things that aren't happening!” Frank snapped, furrowing his dark eyebrows. “Things are happening, Frank!” He fired back heatedly, “And I don't have to be a fucking genius to figure it out! Maybe if you stopped being so aggravated with everyone who tries to help you for five seconds, you'd realize they just care about you!”

Frank took a step back, remembering how close he was to the older boy. He felt ashamed immediately, and his were drained of all fury. “Why do you care me so much?” He wanted to know, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I-” Gerard stopped, and Frank frowned. He always knew in some way that Gerard wasn't just bugging him to annoy him, he really did care. Frank raised his eyebrows, waiting for the older boy to continue, but his mouth was just open with no words forming. He found himself transfixed by Gerard's soft, pink lips. They were so irresistible...no, Gerard's whole body was irresistible – screw it, Gerard Way in general, was irresistible...

He felt drawn to him – like he was being pulled to him by some unknown force. Literally. He found himself inching closer and closer, until his lips met Gerard's. It wasn't open-mouthed or anything, just a gentle brush. To his surprise, Gerard pushed him away. “Frank, you asked me to stay away from you. I'm not going to put on with some bull shit later on that you want me away, and that you get pissed for someone trying to help you. I'm done with you, alright? Fucking done!” Gerard almost screamed, before storming out of the house.

Hysteria [Chapter Five B]

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 15:12:10 GMT

Title: Hysteria
Author: That would be me. (ferardx4ever)
Disclaimer: ~~I own everyone.~~ I have dreams, y'know...
Rating: PG
POV: It changes to first person, but in the beginning and some of the second chapter, it's 3rd.
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main), Rai Johnson/Frank Iero, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons
Summary: Gerard eyed a long, red mark running down the side of Frank's pale arm, "Hey, what happened?" He asked, looking pointedly at the newly accommodated mark on the younger boy's forearm. Frank's heart skipped a beat - as he thought up an excuse quickly, "Oh, uh, skating. Rough down there sometimes, y'know?" He lied. Gerard knew it was lie, everything Frank said lately was a lie.
Author's Note: I am not quite sure about finishing Along Came Sarah Way, there's a lot of editing to be done. And right now, this story is ready to go... It may be continued someday if I get around to fixing it. Anyway, this is a based on one of my other fics, Getting Away With Murder. Some of the scenarios in this story are stolen from there.
Warnings: Homosexuals, sexual, physical, and verbal abuse, depression, boy secks, rape.

{Chapter One: Saved By the Bell}
{Chapter Two: Don't Look Back, You Can Never Look Back}
{Chapter Three: This Is How I Live}
{Chapter Four: Assumptions and Lies}
{Chapter Five A: The Hold On Sanity}

Frank couldn't believe how fast everything was happening. He hardly remembered calling the ambulance when they arrived at his door. He stood from afar, as they watched the paramedics surrounded his mother. Neighbors crowded around the house to try to figure out what was going on. His mouth felt dry, and he felt numb. What was he going to do without a mom? Or any parents for that matter?

It was hard to swallow, let alone breathe. He glanced at his mother's pale body as they pulled her away on a stretcher into the ambulance. He felt tears sting in his eyes, threatening to squeeze out onto his cheeks. “Frank!” He heard a familiar voice call, and he spun around to see his best friend Mikey racing towards him. “Frank, buddy, what happened? I thought it was you that got hurt!” He exclaimed, and Frank just shook his head.

He bit his lower lip, fiddling with his lip ring, trying to avoid eye contact. He knew if he explained what was happening, he would start crying – and probably sobbing. He finally managed to swallow, and try to force the lump out of his throat. “Then I saw your mom – is she alright?!” Mikey asked, and Frank thought maybe at first he should pretend he didn't hear him. No, that wouldn't work, and it obviously wouldn't hold out for too long. He let out a shaky breath, bracing himself, “Mikey... I-I think my mom's dead...” He replied, and a tear fell from his eye.

Mikey was speechless, and wasn't sure exactly what to say. “Oh my God...” Was the only thing he could think to utter, and seconds later Gerard appeared at their side. “Mikey what fuck-” he stopped when he realized the silence, and the salty tears dripping from Frank's eyes, “...is going on?” He finished in a whisper, and then looked at his little brother, than at Frank. “Fuck, she's not...” He stared at the ambulance, which was preparing to drive away. “...Is she?” He questioned after a few seconds of painful quietness.

Frank felt dizzy, and everything seemed like a dream. Actually, more like a nightmare. Or he hoped it was. Maybe he would wake up, in his bed, and figure out this was a joke. And his mother would be home, and his father never would have left. Everyone would be happy again. His legs felt like they were the same consistency of Jell-O, he longed for something to hang onto. Or even someone. He had nothing. NOTHING.

His father was gone – the person he thought he could always rely on, walked out. He was done lying to himself that one day he'd come back – he wasn't. He'd started over, someplace else, to make a new life. What he had in New Jersey wasn't good enough for him apparently. His own wife wasn't good enough. Or maybe Frank wasn't good enough anymore...

Now his mother, too? Where would he go? Would they ship him off to an orphanage for two years until he turned eighteen? How would he get a job? Where the fuck would he live?! All these questions whirled around his brain, making him want to throw up. If it was even possible for him to throw up anything, considering he hadn't eaten a decent meal in four days. It was out of control.

Frank wanted to run, and just forget everything. Leave everything and everyone behind. Every little problem could just disappear if he ran, and he could be on his own. He practically already was, so it wouldn't make much of a difference. He could move to New York, and get a job in a city or something. No one would ever be able to find him, and that would be the best part. Eventually they'd all forget about him anyway – the name Frank Iero would mean nothing in a matter of months. Maybe sooner...

Oh, get a grip, he thought to himself. You're acting like a fucking pussy. But it was hard not to be, he was standing there trembling. Everything was slipping from his grip. In fact, he could feel himself slipping. Slipping into the warm grip of madness. Slowly, and painfully. His legs felt like rubber, and he desperately needed to sit down. He felt himself swaying, and Mikey gaped at him, seeming afraid that his friend might collapse. Frank glanced around, hoping to find something to hang onto for support. He stumbled sideways a bit, and then realized that he probably looked like a dazed idiot.

“Frank, you don't know for sure she's gone...” Gerard pointed out after a long silence. The only sound being the crackle of Walkie-Talkies of the paramedics, and the sirens of police cars and the ambulance. Followed by the cluttered murmurs of the neighbors. “Sh-she wasn't breathing...” Frank whispered, not even listening to the eldest Way brother. “Come on Frank, I'll drive you to the ER. Then you'll know for sure at least.” Gerard offered, and Frank didn't want to go anywhere with Gerard. In fact, he had vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. He couldn't risk being with the boy. It was a fucking hazard waiting to happen.

Frank started to shake his head 'no', and maybe even walk back into the house. But, he didn't even want to be in there. All it would do would just remind him of everything. His parents, and Rai. Everything was hopeless. “Frank, please.” Gerard pleaded with the younger boy, who did his best to avoid eye contact. Frank could feel it happening. The urge again. To go to Gerard, and stay with him forever. Tell him everything that was hurting him. He couldn't though. And he wouldn't.

He began to walk away from the Way brothers, to find an escape from the horror taking place. He made it about halfway down the block before he practically feel Gerard behind him. “Frank, don't go.” He called after him, but Frank kept walking. Fighting against the almost magnetic force between him and the older boy. “Frank, you can't run from everything!” He finally shouted, and that made him pause. He was right, and it was kind of insulting at the same time. The truth usually was a bit hurtful. “Please, Frankie?” He begged softly, and he noticed the other boy was right behind him now. His hand brushing against his own.

Frank bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. The sensation of their skin touching made the urge unbearable – even if it was only slight, it had the same effect. And the way Gerard uttered his name was even more amazing. It was gentle, and soothing. Frankie. Not many people called him Frankie, and he didn't really care for it much either. Suddenly, now he did. “Just come with me.” He told him, and Frank found himself saying, “O-Okay...” Before he even had a chance to rethink it, and contemplate for a while.

Seconds later they were in Gerard's car, driving the the hospital. The ride was quiet, and awkward. Frank leaned his cheek against the cool glass of the car's window. He didn't speak, and neither did Gerard. Which was fine with him. The rocking motions of the vehicle, and the sound of Anthrax blaring through the speakers lulled Frank into a dreamless doze. He didn't wake when the automobile came to a halt in the hospital's parking lot. Gerard opened his door, and circled around to the other side of the car, opening the passenger's door. “Frank, wake up.” He nudged the boy a little, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Come on.” He mumbled, sweeping some hair out of the sleeping boy's closed eyes.

Frank's eyes fluttered open, and saw Gerard beside him. He glanced around, and then saw the giant building, reading Belleville Hospital across it. “Oh crap, sorry.” He muttered as an apology, hastily sitting up and getting out of the car. “It's fine, really.” Gerard assured him, and he couldn't get the fact out of his mind how beautiful Frank appeared when he slept. It seemed to be the only time the boy was slightly at peace.

They headed into the main lobby, where they asked where Linda Iero's room was. A young blond-haired, blue eyed bombshell nurse in pink scrubs was working at the desk. “How may I help you?” She asked politely, flashing them her pearly white teeth. If Frank wasn't gay, he'd probably consider her maybe one of those hottest girls he'd ever met. Too bad there was no attraction... He inwardly giggled at the thought. “Um, we're looking for Linda Iero.” Gerard replied after Frank didn't say a word for a few moments. He hadn't heard what the women had said, whilst he was too busy fantasizing. “Just one moment...” She said, and briefly scrolled through a list in the computer.

“Room 406. It's in the ICU, so I'll need you to just wear one of these after you sign in.” She informed them, and they hurriedly signed the paper, and wrapped the paper bracelets around their wrists before heading down the hall. Frank absolutely loathed the Intensive Care Unit. It was without a doubt the worst place in any hospital. He was glad Gerard was walking in front of him. He forced his eyes to be fixated on the older boy's back, trying not to even peek at the other patients. Most were in the worst condition imaginable. The smell of floor cleaners and chemicals reached Frank's nostrils, and he grimaced.

Finally they reached Room 406, and he had to admit he was scared to enter. Whoever his mother's roommate was sounded like they were hacking up a lung. Fortunately a thin blue curtain was shrouding whoever it was from sight. There was a man in a white lab coat with a clipboard standing over Linda, and a nurse in salmon color scrubs adjusting the IV. Frank gazed at his mom, who was paler than the dull walls of the hospital room. But, the beeping sound of the monitor next to her bed confirmed she was a live – maybe not well – but alive. Frank felt relief wash over him. “Are you Linda Iero's family?” The doctor questioned after the nurse finished fixing the IV, and left the room. “I-I'm her son.” Frank managed to stutter.

“Yes, well, she's suffering from acute liver failure. Unfortunately it's developed into hepatic encephalopathy.” The doctor explained – his name tag read Dr. Burnes. “Oh... Can she...die from it?” He wanted to know, and he regretted asking. He didn't want to know. Especially if she could. “If left untreated, yes. But it has impaired the function of her brain cells. If she continues to take in the amount of alcohol she does, I can guarantee she'll be back worse than before. ” Dr. Burnes explained, browsing through something on his clipboard. “We suspect it's from all of the alcohol she's been taking in. I highly recommend she goes into some sort rehabilitation if she recovers...” Frank stopped paying attention after that, and couldn't tear his eyes away from his sickly mother.

He hadn't even realized the doctor had left the room, and he approached his mother. “You okay?” Gerard's voice broke into his thoughts, but Frank didn't look away. “She looks horrible...” He whispered, barely audible. He could feel tears springing in his eyes. Forcing her to quit her alcoholism was a fool's errand. What if she didn't get treated? “She'll be okay, Frankie. Everything is going to be okay.” Gerard reassured him – oh, how wrong he was. It made Frank want to explode.

“No, it's not okay! Nothing is okay, Gerard.” Frank blurted out before he could stop himself, and without another word, he bolted out of the hospital.

AN: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR ME. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

Swimming in A World Of Loneliness [standalone]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:54:36 GMT

Title: Swimming in a World of Loneliness
Author: ferardx4ever
Disclaimer: Own nothing, as usual.
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: G
POV: Frank
Summary: So take my hand, just for tonight. We'll forget what we can't do. Remembering what we can. Throw it all away, and be together. Forever, you and me.
Author's Note: Um, this is sort of mostly about my feelings. But yeah, it can be Frerard, right?
Warnings: Drabble

Ever since you left my side, things haven't been the same.
Ever since you walked out that door, I've been left alone to deal with it.

I feel useless, fucked up and tossed to the side.
Watch people use my feelings to deride.
I'm falling down without you, slowly falling into the warm grip of madness.
All I can feel lately is sadness.

Life's changing quickly, and maybe for the better.
I'm losing my grip, locked in a world of loneliness.
Maybe I won't admit it, but you know I was wrong.

I can't hide anymore, and I'm not who I used to be.
Maybe one day you'll come back, and see.
I'll always be different without you.

So take my hand, just for tonight.
We'll forget what we can't do.
Remembering what we can.
Throw it all away, and be together.
Forever, you and me.

Writer's Block: Getting Closer Than Perhaps Expected

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:17:27 GMT

Have you ever crushed on your closest friend?
Did you keep it secret, were there problems or did it blossom into something more?

Hysteria [Chapter Five A]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:09:00 GMT

Hysteria [Chapter Four]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:08:03 GMT

Hysteria [Chapter Three]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:06:58 GMT

Hysteria [Chapter Two]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:05:58 GMT

Hysteria [Chapter One]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:05:03 GMT

Title: Hysteria
Author: That would be me. (ferardx4ever)
Disclaimer: ~~I own everyone.~~ I have dreams, y'know...
Rating: PG
POV: 3rd person
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main), Rai Johnson/Frank Iero, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons, Frank Iero/JJ Henderson
Summary: Gerard eyed a long, red running down the side of Frank's pale arm, "Hey, what happened?" He asked, looking pointedly at the newly accomodated mark on the younger boy's forearm. Frank's heart skipped a beat - as he thought up an excuse quickly, "Oh, uh, skating. Rough down there sometimes, y'know?" He lied. Gerard knew it was lie, everything Frank said lately was a lie.
Author's Note: I am not quite sure about finishing Along Came Sarah Way, there's a lot of editing to be done. And right now, this story is ready to go... It may be continued someday if I get around to fixing it. Anyway, this is a based on one of my other fics, Getting Away With Murder. Some of the scenarios in this story are stolen from there.
Warnings: Homosexuals, sexual, physical, and verbal abuse, depression, boy secks.

Frank struggled against the older boy's grip, writhing and sobbing, "Please, Rai, don't!" He pleaded, squirming helplessly. "You're a fucking piece of shit, you know that?" The older boy hollered at him, his dirty-blond fringe falling over his eyes. Frank gazed up at his abusive boyfriend, his green eyes wide with fear. "Rai, please-" He was interrupted by Rai's fist smashing hard against his jaw. Frank let out a startled, painful cry, and slid down the ground against the wall. He felt tears squeeze their way out of his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up, you little bastard." Rai shouted, and kicked Frank in the side. "Take your fucking pants off." He ordered, and Frank stared up at him, wishing he had never even met Rai. "Now!" He yelled threateningly, and the guitarist slowly began to remove his black skinny jeans and boxers. Rai forced the other boy on his back, and removed his own pants. He shoved himself inside of Frank, who screamed, sobbing.

He thrusted a few times, causing immense pain to the younger boy. He came inside of him, before pulling out. Without a sound, he pulled on his clothing, and glowered down at Frank, who found his boxers and pants - hastily getting them back on. "Let that be a fucking lesson to you." Rai whispered, and left the dark-haired boy alone in despair, feeling dirty.

Frank pulled himself into a sitting position, his conciousness dwindling quickly as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He wiped some blood from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand, gaping at the red liquid. Bit by bit, piece by pieace - Rai was destroying him.

---

Frank awoke with a start, squinting at the sunlight bleeding through the blinds covering his bedroom window. His alarm clock rang out, and he slammed the snooze button with annoyance as he moaned sleepily. He forced himself to drag himself out of bed, and get dressed. He usually wore long-sleeves under his t-shirts or just hoodies. He could only thank God it was still winter time.

Today he opted for a Nine Inch Nails band tee shirt with a gray long-sleeved shirt under it. That mostly covered any noticable bruises on his arms, stomach or back. His semi-long hair blocked anything that could be on the back of neck. Wearing skinny jeans everyday was a benefit as well. Today he chose black ones, sliding his studded belt through the belt loops.

He quickly made a break for the bathroom, in case his mother was still home. Which she rarely ever was - but, it never hurt to be careful. He locked the bathroom door, still slightly anxious she could be around. He bent down, rummaging through the medicine cabinet to find some of his mom's old cover-up. That usually made any visible marks on his face disappear - mostly. He hurriedly applied some, and after putting layer on top of layer for the umpteenth time, he decided it was sufficient, even though the color barely matched his skin tone. No one would honestly realize it unless they put their eyes an inch away from his face - which was unlikely.

He found some eyeliner in the drawer, and traced around his eyes. He was going to be late - which lead to Mikey being pissed. He grabbed his backpack, which was filled with unfinished homework, also taking his keys, and bolting out the door, locking it behind him. Mrs. Iero usually became very cross with him if she ever came home to find it unlocked, and then gave a lecture on how someone could easily rob the house. But, lately she was too drunk or tired to even bother to scold Frank about anything. Henceforth why his grades were slipping...

He raced down the block, and saw Mikey waiting at the corner of the block, looking quite aggravated. Frank took this as an opportunity, and ran towards the lanky, tall boy. Once he reached his friend, Frank tackled him and screamed at the top of his lungs in his ear. Mikey's black, thick-rimmed glasses went flying onto the sidewalk, as he tumbled to the ground. "You fucking bastard!" Mikey shouted through uncontrollable giggles, as he failed miserably to sound frustrated with his best friend. "I love you too, Mikeyboy." Frank grinned, chuckling as he pulled himself off of him, brushing his jeans off from any excess dirt.

Mikey retreived his glasses from the concrete, standing up. "Come on, we're going to be late for the fifteenth-hundreth time." He muttered, clearly blaming Frank for this. "Actually, in my defense, there can't be fifteen-hundred days in a year." He pointed out, as they began to walk to the high school. "Whatever. You get my point." Mikey said, "As if you even miss sitting in Algebra anyway..." Frank added, fiddling with his spiky bracelets. "Yeah, but you're not the one whose mom is going to rant and rave when she sees the five-hundred thousand tardys!" He complained, and this was true. "Once again, there can't be that many days in a year." Frank repeated himself, crossing the next street.

"Hey, what happened to the side of your face, man?" Mikey asked, and Frank felt his stomach drop down to his ankles. He racked his brains to find a good lie. "Oh, uh, me and Rai were um...making out and I uh... I fell and hit the fucking table." How the hell could he forget to cover that one up? That was the most recent one too! Mikey frowned, "Thanks for the image." He grimaced. Frank laughed, "Oh please. It's just kissing, it's not like I was talking about BJ-ing or anything." Mikey winced at the painful though, "Aw, come on man, shut up!" He yelled, totally disguted. "I bet you did that on the first date." He said, and Frank scowled.

"Did not! Who the hell even thinks giving head is okay on the first date?" Well, whores for one... "Your mom certainly thinks so." Mikey cackled at his own joke, and Frank had to even crack a smile. "That's fucking gross."

---

"So, you wanna come to the house party Gee's having tonight?" Mikey questioned through a mouthful of a cold-cuts sandwich. Frank shrugged, "I take it your parents aren't home?" He guessed, and Mikey nodded after swallowing. "One of these days you guys your brother's going to get caught, I swear." Frank shook his head, trying to finish his Global homework - which by the way he had to hand in next period... "Doubt it. Although I'd love to see it happen." Mikey snickered at the thought.

"Hello children." Gerard, Mikey's older brother greeted the two younger boys, sitting down at the table. "Hiya." Frank gave him a tiny wave, without even glancing up from his paper. Quickly scribbling down answers (which probably the wrong ones) to beat the clock, Frank finally reached the last question. Something about the Middle East... Cause I did your mom. Frank scribbled down. That was bound to get him detention.

"Adios amigos, I gotta go pick up something from Ms. Layla's room." He picked up his books and his leftover garbage, and Gerard smirked, "Cough...petifilia...cough!" He muttered between fake coughs. Mikey shot him a disgusted glance, "Oh dear me, it seems I've got a terrible cough." Gerard said, flashing his little brother an innocent grin. "I'm picking up an art project, first off, you perv." Mikey corrected him, but his face was still turning bright red. "Sure, you can tell her that after she fucks you." I told him, and the both us guffawed at the sight of Mikey's anger. "Fuck you all." He flipped us off before leaving the cafeteria.

There was silence after he left, which Gerard broke shortly, "So, you coming tonight?" He asked me, and I raised my eyebrows, trying to resist the urge to make a joke about the 'coming' part of that sentence. I decided to play dumb about knowing about the party - because for one it kept the conversation going, and two, I liked talking to Gerard. Mikey insisted Frank had on a crush on his older brother ever since he met him in sixth grade. Frank didn't at all though - he couldn't possibly even see anything happening between him and Gee anyway. "May I inquire as to the occasion?" Frank countered, "No parents, booze laying around. You do the math." He replied, and Frank nodded. "Hm, I'll just have to check my scheduel..." He joked, and Gerard snickered.

"Scheduel my ass Iero. You're coming." He said firmly, and Frank smiled, "Why, would you miss me too much if I didn't come?" He questioned, and Gerard chuckled airily, "Just come - " He stopped, staring at something on Frank's face. Don't say anything about the scar, Gerard. Please don't say anything about the scar. Don't say anything. Please, please, please... "Jesus, what the fuck happened to your jaw?" He wanted to know. Frank swallowed, for some reason he found it harder to lie to Gerard than anyone else. "It's um...nothing. I uh, fell." He stammered, the words were stuck to the sides of his throat, refusing to be spit out.

"Fell on your jaw?" Gerard furrowed his eyebrows, not buying it. "It's possible." Frank shrugged - fuck, that made it sound like even more of a lie. Well, he probably already knew it was a fib. But now it was totally out in the open. "Frank, what happened to your jaw?" He repeated - somehow Gerard always knew when something was going on that someone wasn't telling him. It made it hard to hide anything from him. "It's nothing, seriously. It was an accident." Frank lied again, ready to just bolt out of the cafeteria.

Suddenly, the bell rang. Thank God. Frank got up, and raced out of the cafe.

Getting Away with Murder [Part 2]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:04:18 GMT

Title: Getting Away With Murder
Author: ferardx4ever (the one and only).
POV: Frank, 1st.
Disclaimer: This is all pure lies.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main), Gerard Way/Bert McCracken
Summary: I'm addicted to your punishment. You are the master, and I'm waiting for disaster.
Author's Note: This is pretty much drabble. I got the idea from Getting Away With Murder by Papa Roach.
Warnings: Homosexuals, abuse, depression, rape...kind of?~~What happens when you enjoy being raped?~~

I Feel Irrational

I regretted uttering those words as soon as they tumbled off my lips. I glanced down at the bed, and waited for him to do something to me. Such as hit me, or shout something at me that would make me want to cry for hours. I could feel his dark, dramatic eyes on me, "I don't fall for sad little fuckers." He replied, and I felt tears burn in my eyes, but I forced them back.

He stood up, and I watched him as he pulled his clothes back on. "If you move from this room, I swear I'll beat the fucking crap out of you, you won't know what fucking hit you." He warned, and I nodded. I had tried to one away once. I remember the consequences vividly.

He gripped me by the hair, dragging me up every flight of stairs. Once we reached the landing, he threw me onto the floor. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I sobbed, and he kicked me hard in the ribs. "Fucking asshole you are!" He shouted, and took hold of my hair again, pulling me to my feet.

He shoved me into the bedroom, "Get up!" He yelled at me, and I scrambled to my feet, using the wall for support. He punched me square in the face, and my head collided with the wall. I felt blood trickle out of my nose, as I slid to the floor. He wasn't done with me. No, this was just the beginning.

He seized my wrist, and forced me down on the floor. He pulled my clothes off of me, along with his own pants. He shoved himself inside of me, and I screamed out in pain, having nothing to hang on to. I writhed underneath him, tears pouring out of my eyes. I threshed, trying with the little strength I had left to get away. He thrust hard into me everytime I struggled against him, purposefully missing my prostate. (The fact being he had done this so many times to me, he seemed to know exactly where it was).

It burned, and my insides felt mangled inside of me. "Stop! Gerard please stop!" I wailed, but he only picked up his rhythmn. "Don't do this! Please!" I howled, and after a long, grueling fifteen minutes, he stopped after he came inside of me, pulling out of me. He put his pants back on and growled, "That'll show you not to run again, you fucking worthless piece of shit."

I grimaced at the sheer memory of it, "I'll be back later." He muttered, and headed out of the house. As soon as I heard the front door slam, I let out heart-wrenching sobs, taking advantage of Gerard not being home. Once again I had lied to myself. I told myself I'd put an end to it, and get help. I didn't - I fell for him time and time again.

How could I ever escape anyway? Running didn't seem to be an option, and I grimaced at the horrific memory of it. If you know Gerard like I know him, you'd know he wasn't always the psychotic asshole he is now. In fact, I know why he is the idiot he is today. I've just never gotten up any courage even try to mention it to his face. It didn't seem worth getting beaten, or sexually abused anymore. But, now I was starting to get even more sick of it than ever before. Tonight, I'd put an end to it.

Maybe all of my talk of taking action wasn't true before, but now I mean it. I really, really mean it.

Usually around after it gets dark out, if I even move from my room, I get slugged. I was just going to have to deal with it. I swallowed hard, before opening the door, trying to make sure it didn't creak. I heard the television running downstairs, and traveled down the hallway slowly. I gripped the railing tightly, before ascending down the stairs. What would he do to me if he saw me? I didn't even want to know.

I slowly took one step after another, until I reached the next floor. I could smell alcohol, and I saw his sleeping form on the couch. I circled around the other side of the sofa, and knelt down in front of him. His lips were parted slightly, and his just long enough dark hair fell over his eyes. He looked so beautiful when he slept. When he slept I could see the old Gerard, the one that was kind and caring.

Without even hesitating, I brushed some hair out of his eyes, and placed a light kiss on his forehead. He stirred a tiny bit, and I leaned in again, kissing the corner of his mouth. His eyes fluttered open, "What are you doing?" It wasn't a threatening tone thankfully, just a question. "I want to talk to you. And I know you want to kill me for being out of my room after dark, but I don't really give a shit, Gee." I explained before I could think of what I was saying.

He pulled himself into a sitting position, and I sat down next to him. He was silent, not saying a word. Just waiting. "I know you think I don't know. But, I know about Bert." I said quietly, "Gee, before you were like this - always hurting me, and making me miserable - I loved you. A lot. Fuck, I idolized you ever since I was a little kid. You were some kind of superhero to me. Always fighting for what you believed in, and never letting anyone stop you from reaching your goals. I wanted to be like you." I told him, and he glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, and then averted his gaze, staring into his lap.

"And then... Ever since you let him get the better of you - you stopped trying. You haven't even drawn anything in God knows how long. And I wish to fuck the old you would come back, every single day. And, in the end maybe I know you hurt me because...you want someone else to know how it feels. How it feels to be shoved around, and broken down as hard as you've been." I explained, lifting up his shirt slightly, revealing scars and bruises, "And I know you can stand up to him. I know you can get through this. Maybe not in an entire day, but you can." I finished, and he turned to me, gently removing my hand off of the hem of his shirt.

I thought he would shout at me, and tell me it was none of my business. But no, he turned to me, with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He barely audibly whispered, and I swear, I thought it was a dream. Had I actually done it? Had I actually - ?

His lips pressed against mine, and I missed when he used to kiss me like that. Slowly, and tenderly. He pulled away, and I drew him into my arms. "I love you." I murmured into his hair, and he tilted his head upwards, gazing into my eyes.

"I love you too, Frankie."

Well, you asked for a sequel, and you got one. Just don't yell at me for it's suckish-ness!

Getting Away With Murder [Part 1]

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 02:03:20 GMT

Title: Getting Away With Murder[1/2]
Author: ferardx4ever (the one and only).
POV: Frank, 1st.
Disclaimer: This is all pure lies.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main)
Summary: I'm addicted to your punishment. You are the master, and I'm waiting for disaster.
Author's Note: This is pretty much drabble. I got the idea from Getting Away With Murder by Papa Roach.
Warnings: Homosexuals, abuse, depression, rape...kind of?~~What happens when you enjoy being raped?~~

I huddle myself in the corner, blooding dripping my face, along with hot, salty tears. I can hear his footsteps, coming for me. I bring my knees to my chest, and bury my head in my arms. I glance around - there are no places to hide in this dump. "Where are you, you little fucker?" He slurred, searching for me. I bit my lip, to keep from crying. The door opens, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for him to come towards me. "There you are." I could see him grin as I peer at him over my pale arms. He grips me by my hair, pulling me to my feet.

He shoves me hard against the wall, pinning my arms above my head, "I want you." He growled in my ear, and I shuddered, more afraid than ever. Our lips collided, and our tongues met. My knees grew weak the second they did, and I felt him growing hard against me. I swallowed hard after he pulled away, and he pushed me onto the bed. He yanked off my shirt, forcing me on my stomach.

He bit down hard on my neck, and sucked on the skin atop of it. I let out a groan, and he laughed masochistically, licking some of the blood off of my cheeks. I feel my pants being yanked off, along with my boxers, as they're tossed to the floor, leaving me fully naked, and him fully clothed. He opened the drawer on the side-table next to the bed, rummaging for the lube.

As soon as he found it he coated his fingers, and I buried my head in the pillow. Tears squeezed their way out of my eyes, as one of his fingers entered inside of me, creating a burning sensation. I cried out, "Shut up you fucker." He warned, shoving another finger inside of me. I stifled another cry, and then I started to enjoy it as he wriggled his fingers around inside me. I mewled, and moaned slightly. Sliding yet another finger in, scissoring them inside of me - I wonder if he was actually deciding to be gentle with me this time. He had never bothered to stretch me out before. He preferred me being in pain, mostly.

He took his fingers out of me, removing his clothing, and then began coating his shaft. I bit my lip - this is where it usually hurt most. He pushed himself inside of me, and it hurt like fucking bitch. My insides felt like they were being split apart and tossed in a blender. I gripped on the bed sheets and the pillow as tightly as possible. I was sick of him being inside of me when he wasn't supposed to be. I always seemed to say that everytime... Except, I never did anything. "N-No, Gerard, stop..." I pleaded, squirming and struggling. "I don't wanna." I tried to say firmly, but it came out a tiny whisper. "Fucking shut up." He barked, yanking my head back by my hair, and biting down on my skin - bound to leave a mark, I thought, as I gasped.

No, this time, it would end. He can't always fucking do this to me. He's taken everything away from me that's important. He's - "Ohhh..." I let out a long, throaty moan as he found my prostate. No, get a grip. This is wrong. I let him get away with everything. "I don't - Oh God..." I groaned, and I forgot everything. He hit square on with every thrust, and I felt my muscles go weak. "Oh, you don't want it alright..." He mutters under his breath, as I let out another pleasure filled cry. I was addicted to his punishments. His rythmn grew faster, riding out our orgasms.

He came inside of me, and then slid out of me, falling down next to me. Weakly, I rolled over, gaping up at him. I claimed to hate him, and I claimed to be determined to put a stop to everything he did to me oh so frequently. I was a liar, because I wanted him to love me. "Why don't you love me?" I asked, without meaning it to say it out loud. I wanted him to love me. All I got was a loathing glare of madness.

I would never get anything else. Ever.