You Don't Know a Thing About My Sins Part Three

[criminalsofwar]

-x-

When Gerard came to, he felt something warm, smooth and soft slide across his forehead and side of his face. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt amazing against his cold skin and aching head. He pushed weakly toward the warmth, face pressing into something slightly scratchy, but warm.

He had to force himself to open his eyes, the seemed like they’d been closed forever, and didn’t want, didn’t know how to open anymore.

It was dark, he saw as soon as he could get his eyes open, and he was in a warm bed, a thick comforter wrapped around him. Then he actually took notice what his forehead was pressed against.

Frank was kind of sitting up, mostly laying down next to him in the bed, hand brushing Gerard’s hair out of his face, Gerard’s forehead pressed against the bandages wrapped around his side.

“Frankie...?” Gerard was totally confused, and didn’t know where they were, and just plain felt like shit. His voice was rough with disuse and sleep.

Not a moment later, Frank was mostly on top of him, arms around Gerard’s neck, “Oh my God, you’re okay.”

Gerard was stunned for a few moments before, carefully, he wrapped his arms around Frank’s back.

“I thought you died.” Gerard said quietly in Frank's ear, just now taking in the fact that Frank was not dead, but, in fact, seemed to be doing very well.

“I almost did,” Frank replied just as quietly, “Bob said I lost a lot of blood, but I should be okay if I rest awhile.”

“Who’s Bob?”

“Bob’s the guy who owns this place. He found us, and fixed up my side, since you didn’t have a mark on you.” Frank laughed, then sucked in a sharp breath, “Ow...”

Gerard had this incessant sinking feeling, “You didn’t tell him did you?”

“Of course not!” Frank had this comically offended look on his face.

Gerard laughed and nudged Frank off of him so he could sit up, head swimming suddenly.

“Fuck,” he leaned sideways against the cool, smooth wall, relishing in the feel of it against his bare side.

“Are you alright?” Frank was sitting now too, looking worried. Gerard noticed for the first time, the little swallows on his hips, half covered by the bandage. He wanted almost desperately to see them whole.

“I dunno, this hasn’t happened before,” Gerard tore his eyes away, closing them instead. He could only vaguely remember what had happened before he’d passed out, only remember the pain, and the overwhelming, explosive rage. “How long was I out?”

“Two and a half days. I was out for almost a whole day from the blood loss.”

Gerard nodded, in acceptance or just acknowledgement, he didn’t know.

“Hungry?” Frank asked a minute later.

“You don’t even know.” Gerard agreed, climbing out of the bed after Frank, looking for a shirt that didn’t have blood all over it, to no avail.

“Oh, here.” Frank was holding two clean shirts in his hands, both looking too big for Gerard, much less Frank. “Bob said we can use these until he can get ours done.”

He pulled on one of the shirts, just a plain white one, and noticed he was still wearing his filthy, torn, bloodstained jeans, and deciding he didn’t care.

They moved kind of slowly down the hall, because at first, Gerard was seriously going to throw up, due to the severe vertigo he had going on. Which was weird, because stuff like that hadn’t happened to him in forever, like the last two hundred some years, forever.

In the kitchen, even though it was almost four in the morning, a tall, big blonde dude was standing with this back to them, making coffee by the smell of it.

“Hey, Bob. Gerard’s awake.”

The man who Gerard had to assume was Bob turned around, looking Gerard over, apparently looking for something wrong with him, “And you’re alright?”

“Yeah, fine.” Gerard wasn’t one for showing when he wasn’t feeling up to par. That, often, got you killed.

Bob nodded, “Want some coffee and something to eat?”

“Sure,” Both Frank and Gerard answered at the same time.

A while later, the three of them were seated in the next room, a well furnished living space. This was by far the nicest house that Gerard had been inside in a long while.

“So, I am curious,” Bob started, “What happened to you guys?”

“Monsters,” Frank answered, smoothly. Gerard only nodded.

“And how come Frank was totally covered in gashes, while you didn’t have a scratch on you, but your clothes are all ripped up and covered in your own blood?” The question was obviously directed at Gerard.

Gerard felt himself tense, feeling, suddenly, very backed into a corner, his grip on the mug in his hands tightening, mind racing for a story. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Frank glance once or twice before focusing back on Bob.

“He’s just that good with a blade, I guess.” Frank said when it was kind of obvious between the two of them that Gerard had nothing to really say.

Bob shot them a sceptical look, single brow raised, “I’ll give the two of you a minute to come up with a better story while I start this fire.”

He stood, and moved toward the fire place, going through the steps of starting a fire. Frank, suddenly, sucked in a sharp breath.

“What?” Gerard asked quietly.

“He didn’t use anything to start that fire.” Frank whispered back, eyes wide with a mix of excitement and surprise.

Gerard’s eyebrows knitted together, but before he could say anything, Bob was back, sitting in the arm chair across from them.

“You have pyrokinesis, don’t you?” Frank's tone was insistent, curious.

“So do you.”

Gerard was pretty puzzled again, and so was Frank by the look on his face.

“You were pretty upset with me while I was trying to stitch you up.” Bob explained, looking more amused than anything.

“Oh.” Frank looked sheepish, “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing. You’re only just developing it, yes?”

Frank nodded.

“So, I still don’t know what’s up with you.” He gestured vaguely at Gerard.

Gerard was uncomfortable again, glancing over at Frank, who just nudged him with an elbow, encouraging him.

“I... I’m a half demon, basically.”

Bob looked surprised, “I wasn’t expecting that one, to be honest.”

“Yeah, well, that’s me.”

“Born that way?”

“No, voluntary possession, essentially. It’s complicated, or at least it was at the time.”

Just after Bob nodded, Gerard’s head throbbed again, making him wince and grit his teeth.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Gerard sighed, holding his head with one hand, “I’m gonna go back to bed.”

He felt Frank's eyes on him, but he didn’t say anything as Gerard walked back into the spare bedroom, falling back into bed after changing out of his jeans and into some sweat pants. Sleep over came him quickly, dragging him down into its inky black, smothering depths.

-x-

By the next afternoon Frank had skilfully persuaded Bob (“Pleeeease? Bob, come on, please? It’s not like you’ve got much else to do!” all day long) to show him how to keep himself from starting things on fire whenever he was angry.

Normally, Gerard wouldn’t found Frank following Bob around all day hilarious, but he was still feeling drained and lifeless.

The three of them were all outside in the warm sun, Gerard leaning back against the side of the house, watching Bob try to teach Frank how to control the fire with his hands without lighting himself on fire. He was starting to make progress, but the flame either kept dissipating or he lost concentration and lost control. Then he’d insist on trying again, forehead scrunched up, a focused look on his face.

By then end of the day, Frank was thoroughly frustrated with himself, flopping back on the couch next to Gerard.

“Rough day?” Gerard chuckled.

“Fuck you.” Frank sighed, then slumped against him, head landing on Gerard’s shoulder.

“That bad, huh?”

Frank nodded, drawing his knees to his chest.

Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank, who moved closer, head on Gerard’s chest, knees drooping into his lap, in some sort of lopsided hug.

“At least you have someone to show you what you’re doing. Bob seems like a good teacher.”

“He is, it’s just...” Frank sighed, fiddling with a fold in Gerard’s shirt, “It’s just I can’t seem to get it right.”

“Frank,” Gerard tilted Frank's head up, to look at him with two fingers, to look him in the eye. “Frankie, you’re more than capable of doing it. You’ve only just started, give it some time, I’m sure you’ll get it. I’m positive.”

Frank just stared back at him for a while. Next thing Gerard knew, Frank's hands where flat on his chest, their lips pressed together.

Gerard was actually more than a little surprised by this, sure, he’d thought about it once or twice, but it was something he couldn’t have. He was a demon, condemned to hell, and he wasn’t going to do that to Frank too.

“Frankie.” Gerard broke the kiss, Frank's breath still hot on his lips, Gerard’s palms cupping his face, “Frankie, I... I can’t. I just, can’t.”

He heard Frank's breath hitch and his body tense, then he was quickly untangling himself from Gerard, a look of pure dejection on his face that shattered Gerard’s heart. Frank got up, arms wrapped tightly around his gut like Gerard had physically punched him or something, and moved to leave.

“Frank.”

Frank didn’t reply.

“Frankie, wait.”

“No, I see how it is.” Frank's voice broke a tiny bit, and then he was out the door, into the darkening landscape, letting the door slam behind him, leaving Gerard standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the door like the complete idiot he’d made himself into.

“What happened? I heard the door slam.” Bob was standing in the entry was into the hallway.

“Frank left.” And it’s my fault.

“Why?” He asked, and when Gerard didn’t answer, he added, “This is something way out on my hands, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it kind of is.” Gerard sighed, internally kicking the shit out of himself. “I’m gonna go find him.”

“Gerard?” He turned where he had his hand on the door knob. Bob had something in his eyes Gerard couldn’t really make out. “He really likes you, and you’re a good friend to him. Try not to screw it up.”

Gerard felt like something died inside him, and looked Bob straight in the eye before nodding, and turning, and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

It was getting dark fast, so he knew he’d have to find Frank soon, but didn’t have a clue where he’d be.

After half an hour or so, when he was walking past a small clump of small tall trees, he heard, just barely, a small sniffle. Looking up, he could only just see the outline of a small form huddled on a thick branch maybe five or six feet above his head.

A minute later, he was up in the tree on a branch just below Frank's, where he jumped catching hold of the limb Frank was on pulling himself up on to it.

“Go ‘way.” Frank's voice was quiet, and only a tad uneven. Gerard wouldn’t have even known he’d been crying if his voice hadn’t been all shuddery and irregular like it was, his arms still wrapped tightly around his middle, knees drawn close to his chest.

“Frankie, I’m not going anywhere.” Gerard was quiet too, looking at Frank who refused to look back at him.

“Why’re you even here. It’s not like you care about me anyway.”

“I do, Frank, I do care about you. That’s why I - we - can’t. I’m a demon, and when I finally do die, I’m going to hell, there’s nothing any of us can do about it, and I don’t want to drag you down with me.” Gerard really just wanted him to understand that he did care, he just couldn’t live with himself if he caused that to happen.

“Gerard, do you not get it?” Frank's voice was strained, almost angry, “I don’t care about that.”

Gerard opened his mouth, then shut it again. He had no idea what to say to that.

Frank continued in his silence, “If I cared that you were a demon, I wouldn’t have come with you in the first place. I’d probably be back with Brian, and the police would be after you.” He paused, sucking in a shuddery breath. “And the reason you did this in the first place was to save someone’s life, and you’ve saved mine twice. I refuse to believe that you’re going to hell for trying to save lives. I can’t do it.”

Frank was looking at him now, and Gerard could tell, even through the half-light that his eyes were red and puffy.

Gerard honestly had never thought about it like that. It made him want to believe Frank, he really did. And he was going to try. Going to give this a chance, if Frank would let him.

He slid closer to Frank, holding out an arm. After several long moments, Frank shifted stiffly, moving under Gerard’s arm, against his side, breath shuddery again.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” Gerard said softly, wrapping one arm around Frank's waist, the other smoothing his hair, rocking back and forth slowly, “No need for that. Shh.”

After a few long minutes, Frank seemed to be okay, or, more okay than before.

“M’sorry,” Gerard murmured in Frank's hair, both arms around him now, dangling legs knocking into each other.

“S’okay.” Frank's voice was unsteady, but better than it had been.

Gerard pressed a light kiss to the top of Frank's head, “C’mon.”

Detangling himself, he stood, balancing easily, pulled Frank onto his back, and jumped. He landed a little unevenly, but caught himself, and moved toward the bright lights of the house.

By the time they got back to the house, Frank was mostly asleep, face buried between Gerard’s neck, and his arms that were loosely wrapped around it. Gerard had a bit of a difficult time opening the door, as he didn’t want to drop one of Frank's legs, but he managed.

Bob was sitting at the kitchen table, like he’d been waiting for them to come back.

“He’s okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” He hoped Frank wasn’t upset anymore. Frank murmured something inaudible, and pressed his face into Gerard’s neck. “I’m gonna turn in too. ‘Night.”

“Good night.”

He carried Frank into their bedroom, and set him gently on the mattress, before bending to untie both of their shoes, and find sweat pants for himself. Frank was still wearing his from that morning; he hadn’t bothered to change, so Gerard just crawled into bed behind him and curled around him, falling asleep almost instantly.

When he woke up the next morning, Frank was already awake, playing with a flap of the sheet idly, Gerard’s arm draped over his side.

The elder stretched, causing Frank to turn about half way to look at him.

“About time, lazy ass.” Frank greeted, twisting around fully, to face Gerard.

“Good morning to you too.” Gerard laughed, “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.” Frank's voice was quieter now. “If you’re over the whole ‘but you’ll go to hell’ deal, that is.”

“I suppose I’ll let that go.”

“Then I’m good.” A small smile broke on Frank's face that Gerard just had to lean forward and kiss, just because he could.

They pulled apart a few minutes later, when Bob’s voice came muffled through the door, “If you two aren’t up in the next ten minutes, you aren’t getting breakfast.”

“Okay, okay, we’re coming.” Gerard called back, Frank's nose still touching his.

“So I suppose this means we actually have to get up, huh?” Frank asked, kind of rhetorically.

Gerard nodded, throwing the covers back, uncovering the both of them, pulling Frank after him the hand.

An hour later, Frank, Bob, and Gerard were all outside in the warming late morning air. Frank was still practicing, but he was getting better faster than Gerard would’ve thought possible. After awhile, Gerard rolled onto his back in the grass, letting the sun hit the skin of his bare arms and where his shirt had ridden up, revealing a narrow strip of pale white flesh underneath.   From where he was laying now, he could actually see Frank's face, even though it was upside down, because he’d been looking down at his hands for the last... well, what seemed like forever.

“I’m getting really tired of doing this.” Frank mumbled, looking up for Bob, face cracking into a wide grin, which he tried to hide, failing miserably. “You are aware that looks really ridiculous, right?”

Gerard turned his head, seeing Bob, who had apparently got up, and gone inside without either of them noticing, and came back, and was now hanging up laundry nearby.

“Do you want wet clothes?” Bob’s voice sounded kind of far off, because he was facing away from them.

“It still looks funny, does it not?” Frank was looking down at Gerard, still smiling.

“It does.” Gerard half whispered as if he didn’t want Bob to hear.

Frank just laughed, before sitting next to Gerard, “Okay, so I think I’ve almost got this...”

Gerard nudged Frank’s thigh with his forehead, because it was the closest thing to him, “You can do it, that’s what I’ve been telling you.”

Frank looked at him from the corner of his eye, trying to hide a smile, and concentrating on the small flame that was gathering in his palm. Gerard watched as he worked the flame, threading it through his fingers, a look in his eyes. That was the best he’d done all day, the best he had done was just starting to wind the fire between his fingers, and then it would disappear. But this time it didn’t look like it was going to. After Frank was sure he had it, he threw his arms into the air, “Yes!”

“I told you!” Gerard was smiling, wrapping his arms around Frank's stomach in a backwards hug, pulling him back onto the ground with him, laughing, Frank's head landing on his stomach.

Within a few moments, Bob was over by them, one of Frank's tee shirts in his hands, “You can get it to do what you want it to, without burning yourself?”

“Yeah! See?” Frank held up a hand, small flame hovering over the tip of his index finger, before winding its way down and around the rest of them.

“Good job.” Bob had a small smile on his face, “Now you can start trying to form it into actual shapes if you want.”

“Sweet.” Frank's smile grew.

“Well, I’m gonna finish hanging these up, and then head into town alright? We’re getting low on food.”

“Okay.” Gerard said looking up at him, smiling a little.

Bob turned, going back to the laundry, hanging up the last few pieces, before climbing into his old looking car.

“Behave.” He called to them, before the car was rumbling down the gravel road.

Gerard sighed contentedly then, closing his eyes, and draped an arm over Frank's chest, just laying there in the grass, letting the sun warm his skin. Frank shifted under his arm, sometime later, rolling onto his side, curling into a ball.

Gerard lifted his head, cracking his eyes open, to see that Frank was asleep, long black fringe covering most of his face. He lifted his other hand to brush it back, thinking maybe he should bring him inside. He pulled Frank towards him a little more, and scooped him up into his arms, trying not to wake him in the process.

The walk to the house was a short one, Frank's face half buried into Gerard’s chest, breathing deep and even. And he felt content, perfectly happy with the way things were going for the first time, in what had to be almost his entire life. He was happy, he had a decent place to stay - though he knew it wouldn’t be permanently, most likely - and, most importantly, he had Frank.

Once he reached the house, he opened the screen door of the front porch, and walked to their shared room, to put Frank in an actual bed. But before he could set him down gently, a slitting, mind numbing pain was shooting through his head. His head that had to have been fucking exploding or something, and all he could smell was a thick acrid smell of heat and sand and decay. His vision had gone black and all he could hear was a strong wind, the same wind he could smell.

They there was a voice. A deep, earth shatteringly deep, rumbling voice that made the throbbing increase with each syllable.

“Boy, you’ve lived this life long enough, and are no longer deserving of my powers. In the next sunrise, you will cease to exist in this world.”

“NO!” Gerard cried through the pain that was immobilizing him. He knew this wouldn’t last. He knew it. Things were just too perfect for him, and now they were all coming to a train wreck of an end.

“I’ll see you in hell, boy.”

With a final burst of unimaginable pain, forcing a shuddering cry from Gerard’s lips, it was all gone.

“Gerard!” He could hear Frank's voice nearby, his hands on his shoulders, “Gerard, what’s happening?”

Gerard pulled his hands away from his head, the tips blood stained from where he’d been digging his fingers into his scalp in an attempt to stop the pain with a shuddering breath.

“He’s,” He swallowed thickly, “He’s coming. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Who’s coming?” Frank asked urgently, “Gerard, who is coming?”

“The demon whose powers I have. He wants them back. Tomorrow I’m gonna die, Frank.” He looked up at Frank then, composure breaking on the last sentence, looking utterly broken and defeated, terrified.

Frank pulled Gerard to him, getting down on his knees next to him on the floor, “No. There is no way you’re dying tomorrow. You can’t just give up now. Fight it. We can fight it together. You can beat this thing.”

“No, I’ve tried. It’s just not possible. And it’s not like I can get rid of them before tomorrow, because Shannon’s dead, and she was part of the deal.” Gerard shifted, forehead pressed against Frank's collar bone, “And I deserve it anyway. I let it kill Mikey. Now it’s my turn.”

“No!” Frank was exasperated, as was his tone, lifting Gerard’s head off his chest to look him in the face. “Gerard, how many times do I have to tell you this? It wasn’t your fault, and you’re not going to die. You’re Gerard; you find ways to beat things. You’re better than this. We can beat this.”

They just stared at each other for a long while, one totally broken, the other desperate for understanding.

“Either way, we’ve got to get out of here before tomorrow morning. Bob doesn’t need to be part of this. I don’t want him to get hurt unnecessarily.” Gerard said quietly after a few minutes of silence.

Frank nodded, letting go of Gerard to stand, and going to the corner of the room, retrieving the still blood-stained blades. “Gonna need these, I think.”

Ten minutes later, Gerard had written a brief note explaining the situation vaguely to Bob, so he wouldn’t think the just ran out on him, and come looking for them, and that they were sorry.

“What are we sorry for?” Frank asked, confused.

“How else do you think we’re going to get far enough away from here by sun up?” Gerard lead the way to the small garage, and their eyes fell upon a motorcycle that looked aged, but well taken care of.

“We’re stealing his bike?”

“Frank...”

“Um, sorry, let’s just do this.”

Gerard started the bike with a key he’d found, Frank climbing on right behind him, and kicked the bike into life, roaring down the long narrow gravel driveway.

The bike had a full tank of gas, so the rode the rest of the day, stopping when the machine choked out, the fuel gone, night falling.

They moved off the road, into the field that they’d stalled out next to, that had a single tree growing some ways way. Frank had a weird feeling about the place. It seemed really familiar, but he couldn’t place it, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. He had to focus on keeping Gerard together. He’d gone quiet and tense, emotionless.

Frank started a small fire when they stopped under the tree, curling into each other for warmth.

“Gerard, it’ll be okay.” Frank nudged him with his knee, where he was sitting cross legged next to him. Gerard just shrugged, but stayed silent.

Gerard sighed, staring into the fire, “What if I die, and there’s just nothing? No Heaven, no Hell, just nothing. I’m just... gone. I think that’d be worse than going to Hell.”

“It doesn’t matter, because you aren’t going to die. Try and get some sleep. You’ll probably need it, okay?” Frank's voice was quiet, but insistent. Gerard nodded, shifting around, like he was going to lay down maybe, but then looked up at Frank once more. Then he was in Frank's face, mouth over his, pushing him back, onto the ground.

Their mouths parted when Frank fell back, eyes closed, pulling Gerard with him, chests pressed together, Frank's thighs on either side of Gerard’s waist.

Gerard just had to look for a second to just look at Frank, the way his head was tilted back slightly, eyes still closed, breath a little erratic. He could feel Frank's heartbeat against his chest. Then their foreheads were pressed together, Gerard closing his eyes.

“Frankie...”

“Gerard, no. Just...” Frank pushed himself up, closing the minuscule gap between them, silencing Gerard, and whatever he was going to say.

Then there was a long silence between the two, punctuated only with muffled moans, and gasping breaths.

Frank broke away when Gerard’s hands slid underneath the hem of his shirt, head dropping back, exposing the soft skin of his neck, a low moan leaving his mouth. He ducked his head down, biting on the side of Frank's neck, hard enough to leave marks, then kissing them gently, moving up his neck slowly, until the was at the corner of Frank's lips. He could feel Frank's fingers digging in to the back of one shoulder, the tips of all five fingers of the other hand were pressing harshly into the back of his neck.

“Frankie,” Gerard sighed again, for a different reason this time, “Frankie, I think, maybe, I love you.”

Frank opened his eyes at that, just looking back into Gerard’s eyes before pressing a kiss back onto his lips. “I think maybe I love you too.”

-x-

Frank was up almost all night long, dozing only a few minutes after Gerard fell asleep in his chest, watching and waiting.

Just as the sun showed its first rays over the horizon, a shudder ran through the ground underneath them.

“Gerard.”Frank shook his shoulder urgently, “Gee, you need to wake up.”

“Mmm...?” Gerard stirred slightly, and when a second shudder came, he was suddenly more awake.

“He’s not here is he?”

“No not yet.” Frank said, then stopped, spotting a small figure emerging from the trees across the field, almost two hundred yards away, “Wait, who’s that?”

“Where?” Gerard turned, unwinding himself from Frank, and squinting in the direction that he pointed out to him. “I - no. No, he couldn’t have.”

Gerard’s eye’s were wide, and scared, like he didn’t know what to do.

“What - “

“Frank, he’s resurrected my brother and fucking possessed him to fight me.” His expression was somewhere between horrified and totally pissed. “He knows I can’t do it. Frank, I can’t hurt Mikey.”

“That’s not Mikey anymore, and you know it. You’ve gotta get passed the face, and realize that it’s the same thing you’ve fought before, and you can do it again.”

“But I - “

“It’s not him. It’s that bastard in his body, because he thinks you can’t fight against him like that.” Frank cupped Gerard’s face with a hand, “But you’ve gotta. And you can, if you accept that that’s not Mikey anymore.”

He nodded. He’d have to try, otherwise he’d be dead, (well, okay, maybe two months ago, he’d wanted to be dead but...) and that was no good to anyone, especially Frank, because Frank believed that he could do this. He had to try now.

Gerard stood, hands clenched into tight fists, eyes never leaving the very slowly advancing figure. He looked more determined and angry than anything now.

“Just... Don’t hurt him if you don’t have too.”

Frank looked up at Gerard for a moment, then nodded even though he couldn’t see him, and stood up, retrieving their weapons. “Okay,” he paused, holding Gerard’s out toward him, “here.”

“Thanks.” He took it, dropping the sheath to the ground at this feet, still staring out over the field where two black shaped where slinking though the long grass one either side of Mikey, almost half way across the field now. “You take the wolves. I’ll try to do something with him.”

The younger nodded, readjusting his grip on his sword, nervous and worried. “Let’s just do this.”

They started forward, toward Gerard’s long dead brother, his shoulders tense, knuckles white with his tight grip. Frank walked a little closer to him, letting their arms brush, trying to offer whatever comfort he could, when he didn’t know what was going to happen either.

The wolves where advancing rather quickly now.

“You can go, I’ve got this.” Frank nudged him with an elbow, urging him to just go and take care of this and get it over with.

Gerard looked at him for a moment, before cupping Frank's cheek, “Be careful.”

Then he was gone, running off somewhere Frank didn’t have time to notice because the wolves were almost upon him.

The closest leaped at him first, fanged jaws gaping, eyes wild. He slashed at its throat, slitting it, the beast falling to the ground in a writhing mess.

The second was obviously smarter, circling around slowly, waiting for Frank to leave it an opening, mostly hidden in the grass that was almost up to Frank's waist.

He started backing toward the noise he could hear of Gerard and Mikey fighting, not daring to turn and look. A hundred feet later, his foot caught and he fell back, sword slipping out of his grasp when he tried to catch himself from falling.

Fuck.

The wolf made its move, pouncing, going for Frank's throat. He stopped it by its neck, holding it back, barely, snapping muzzle only inches from his face, its claws tearing apart his tee shirt, digging into his chest and arms. Fire started around his hands, the wolf yelping in surprise and pain, almost like it wasn’t sure what was happening to it. Its blood started to drip, then flow over Frank's hands, he pushed the animal’s body off of him, standing unsteadily, covered in both his and the animals blood, shirt hanging in shreds around him.

He had to find his sword and help Gerard. When he looked up, Mikey was standing five feet away, eyes blank, dead and cataracted, dressed in clothes centuries old, torn and falling apart with age. Mikey bent down and picked up the sword at his feet, the blank expression on his face, making it all the more terrifying.

He swung the blade with practiced ease, barely leaving Frank enough time to duck away.

A growl come from somewhere next to him and Gerard flew out of nowhere, knocking Mikey over without, what seemed like, a second thought about it. When Frank stood, a strip of his shirt caught under his foot, tearing his shirt right off of him, exposing the torn, bloodied bandages underneath. Frank didn’t know what Gerard was trying to do, but it was pretty obvious that it wasn’t working well. When Mikey even touched him with the white metal, Gerard flinched, small burns forming where ever it touched, and even small cuts from it weren’t healing when made by that blade. Frank knew he had to do something, or Gerard wouldn’t make it out of this alive.

He found Gerard’s sword a few feet away where he’d leaped from.  It felt strange in his hands, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was stopping the demon that had possessed Mikey.

Frank tried to run toward them, it was hard, but he got there, throwing himself into Mikey, knocking him off balance, tossing Gerard’s sword at him, even though, by this point he didn’t really need it, he was using the demon’s own power against him, however well that was going to work.

Before Frank could fully get out of the way, Mikey had his balance back and was going for Frank, the obviously easier kill of the two.

There was no where Frank could go fast enough to avoid being hit. This was it. This was the end.

He hoped Gerard would be okay without him.

Frank braced himself for the inevitable impact, the blinding pain; death. The impact came, but no pain.

Instead, he was being bowled over landing on the ground, staring up into Gerard’s face, inches from his own. By the time they had landed, there was no red in Gerard’s eyes, no fangs, no claws, no horns,  just Gerard, shock and pain, pure undiluted pain on his face, blood dripping from between his gaping lips, a few drops falling onto Frank's cheek.

The tip of a sword protruded from Gerard’s stomach, less than an inch from his own.

It wasn’t until the blade was ripped out again, that everything changed.

Gerard’s eyes went kind of blank for a split second, before clenching shut, doubling over himself, entire body convulsing in agony.

Mikey stood above them, twitching a few times, raising the sword again, as if to strike again, before collapsing lifeless to the ground.

A moment later, a huge dragon-like hulking thing with massive horns and claws, reared over them to attack. Frank did the only thing he could think of to do, attempting the impossible. He raised the hand that wasn’t pinned down by Gerard’s body,  an equally massive wall of fire sputtered into existence, separating them. Frank couldn’t see it, but a high keening, ear-splitting screech filled his ears before what sounded like an explosion, and he dropped his hand, all traces of the mobster that had been, gone.

Meanwhile, Gerard felt like he was being assaulted with the pain of every injury he’s sustained in the past two hundred years of his life at the same time. His teeth felt like they were going to shatter from being clenched together so hard. Every bone in his body felt like it was breaking again, while a single phrase, his own echoing voice, ran through his head. ...Until I save the one I love...

With all the strength his could muster, he forced his eyes open, reaching up with a trembling, bloody hand, cupping Frank's cheek. Frank was crouched over him now, tears running down his face.

“It’s okay.” Gerard’s voice was tight and strained, “He doesn’t have me anymo - “ whatever Gerard was going to say after that was cut off by a fresh wave of pain, before his body dragged him into unconsciousness.

-x-

He woke what seemed like forever later, a quiet beeping reaching his ears, something warm and solid against his side. Whatever they had him on was amazing, he decided, because he couldn’t feel any actually pain, just an annoying ache in his stomach.

He opened his eyes to see what would be a white room, if not for the dark, spare the dim light coming from somewhere, just enough to see by. Frank was curled into his side, apparently abandoning the cot on the other side of the room.

Gerard sighed, lifting a hand - oh god, an IV, fucking needles - and ran his fingers through Frank's hair. The younger made a small noise, snuggling in even closer, knees bumping into Gerard’s thigh. In the half light, he could see the raised, slightly pink of the scar on Frank's side, where the stitches once were where his shirt was ridding up.

Gerard tried to bring his other arm over his body to maybe actually hold Frank, but that annoying ache turned into a sudden stab of pain. A soft hiss slid between his teeth as he dropped his left arm back onto the bed.

“Mmm...?” Frank stirred, lifting his head and blinking blearily.

“Hey.”

“You’re awake!” Frank was suddenly more awake, moving around and wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck.

“Yep. And human.” He brought his right arm up around Frank's back, hand resting on the back of his neck.

“Really?” Frank pulled back, sitting up next to him, “’s that why you didn’t heal when...?”

“Yeah. When I saved you, I ended my contract.”

“Now you’re just like the rest of us.”

Gerard nodded smiling. The whole concept of being human was just so foreign to him, it was unreal.

“I’m gonna call Bob and tell him you’re alright.” Frank smiled back, “Maybe we can get you out of here tomorrow.”

“How’s Bob know we’re here?” Gerard’s brows knitted together, obviously confused.

“He drove all night when he saw the note, and that the bike was gone, found us just after you got run through.”

“M’kay. You go call Bob.” Gerard said, a strange feeling washing over him, whatever they had him on was also making him really tired. “Just come back.”

“Of course.”

Gerard dozed off while Frank was gone, the quiet murmur of his voice along with the quiet steady beeping filled his ears.

When Frank came back, Gerard forced himself awake enough to make Frank move, and pull back the stiff hospital sheets, allowing Frank to crawl in with him.

“Is it bad that I’m really, really excited to get old?”

“Not really, considering you’re like two hundred and fifty, and not old.” Frank laughed quietly.

“I don’t like this waiting to heal business, though.” Gerard stated a few moments later, seemingly quite randomly.

“I think the morphine’s making you kinda wonky, Gee. Just go to sleep. We can talk about your dislike for a normal rate of healing in the morning... Or whenever, because I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’d be sad if you did.” Gerard mumbled, turning his head toward Frank, letting it fall, forehead hitting Frank's collar bone. One of Frank's hands buried it’s self in Gerard’s hair, the other curling around the back of his neck.

“G’night, Gee.”

“Night, Frankie.” Gerard’s eyes were closed. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pressed his lips to Gerard’s dark hair as the older drifted off quickly, resting comfortably in Frank's arms.

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