Qualcuno Ci Aiuti (Someone Help Us) - Chapter 3
Title: Qualcuno Ci Aiuti (Someone Help Us)
Author: hitthehighnotes
Pairing: Frank/Gerard , Onesided Gerard/Bob
Rating: NC17
Warning: Mental illness, drug abuse, self-harm, language, mentions of past abuse, suicidal themes
Disclaimer: don’t own My Chemical Romance, just what I write about them.
Summary: Gerard has been ripped away from his family as a result of a stupid mistake. Feeling as though he has nothing left, he finds someone who he needs, and might just need him.
Authors Notes: This is the first multi-chaptered MCR fic I’ve written, and hopefully it’ll be as good to read as it was to write! Thanks to cigarettes21 for helping correct the title!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
“Morning, Gerard! Breakfast is in ten minutes, so it’s time to get up.” Wendie sing-songed as Gerard turned over uncomfortably. He felt incredibly sick as he stared at her through glassy eyes; ‘Withdrawals,’ Gerard thought gloomily
“I haven’t eaten breakfast for three years.” He retorted groggily. Wendie laughed shortly.
“Don’t worry; you don’t have to actually eat at breakfast, just lunch and dinner.” Gerard sat up suddenly.
“Is there coffee?”
“There’s coffee.”
--
Gerard decided to sit alone this morning. The others had called him over but he’d politely told them he wanted to be on his own. He looked down at the sketchpad Wendie had gotten him yesterday, but he’d yet to start drawing anything. He was scanning the room, looking for one face he didn’t see at dinner. Gerard looked down at his coffee when suddenly he heard a scream from the corridor. Everyone was rushing to the door to see and Brendan motioned Gerard to see. Unable to curb his curiosity, Gerard joined the group and found himself being pushed to the front, Brendan resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder behind him.
“The little one’s Frank.” Brendan murmured almost excitedly. Frank was being pulled away from Bob, who was sporting a fat lip. It looked as through his eye were bruised too. Frank’s lip was split and blood poured from his nose. Frank screamed and tried to break free of the two nurses that held him, and Bob was grinning manically.
“It’s his fucking fault!” Frank shouted as a syringe was produced. His eyes widened in fear and he shook his head frantically, “Don’t inject me, please! He started it!” The needle was pushed into his arm and Gerard fought back the growing nausea at the sight of it. Frank seemed to deflate almost immediately and he was carried away to who-knows-where. The crowd dispersed and just Gerard and Brendan were left to watch Bob skulk off to his room, slamming the door heavily.
“What happened?” Gerard asked numbly. Brendan shrugged and sighed.
“It usually is Bob’s fault.” With that, Brendan rejoined his own table and Gerard sat back down. Usually? Frank seemed too small to be a fighter, but if he’d managed to get those hits in with Bob, Gerard figured he’d have to keep on Frank’s good side.
Later that night, Gerard stood outside the door of the room he was moving into that night. He’d been there for about four minutes, and if he was completely honest, he was kind of shitting himself. He couldn’t get the image of Frank trying to get to Bob out of his head. Frank had insisted it was Bob’s fault, but what if Gerard did something to upset Frank? He wasn’t sure he could even take a punch, let alone throw one, especially when he wasn’t drunk or high on something. Speaking of which, a headache was forming behind his eyes and he couldn’t stop yawning; his withdrawal had started. Eventually, he found the confidence to open the door slightly and poke his head around. Frank looked up from what he was doing immediately and tightly fisted whatever he had in his hand tightly. He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow.
“I won’t bite.” He commented lazily and Gerard took this as an invitation to come in. He put his bag on the made bed and sat for a moment, feeling dizzy suddenly. Frank eyed him curiously and put what was in his hand in the drawer next to his bed, “You my new roommate?”
“Yeah,” Gerard gasped out as a wave of nausea hit him. He could feel the cold sweat running down his neck. “’m Gerard.” Frank was looking at Gerard strangely.
“I’m Frank... Hey, are you okay?” he asked carefully. Gerard nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He curled in on himself and stared at the floor.
“Drug withdrawals, don’t worry about it.” He huffed. He felt his stomach lurching again and next thing Frank was leading him into the toilet where Gerard collapsed in front of the bowl and emptied his stomach. Frank sat on the floor awkwardly and patted Gerard’s back gently. Gerard flushed the toilet shakily and sat back against the opposite wall.
“Shit, how long’s this going to last?” Frank asked apprehensively. Gerard shrugged and laid his head on his shoulder with another yawn. He felt tired.
“Maybe a day or two? I’ve never had them before; whenever I felt the withdrawals kicking in I just took more.” Frank shifted himself and picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“What were you taking?” he asked. Gerard wondered if Frank was even allowed to ask this kind of stuff.
“Everything... Mostly coke and heroin though. Funnily, it was pills that landed me here,” Frank looked intrigued so Gerard continued, “I overdosed by accident; woke up in hospital,” he chuckled lightly, “They thought I tried to kill myself.”
“Did you?” Frank asked humorously.
“No. I was just having a good time, I guess.” Another lurch and Gerard was hunched over the toilet again, but he could only dry heave. His eyes were getting heavy and he hadn’t even taken meds yet.
“Do you want me to get Wendie?” Frank asked. He sounded scared. Gerard shook his head and wiped the sweat from his brow. At that moment a loud yell of, “Meds!” could be heard down the corridor and Gerard shakily got to his feet. He and Frank joined the queue and waited for their names to be called. As soon as Gerard reached the counter the nurse eyed him cautiously.
“Are you okay? You look pale.” Gerard assured her he was fine, took his pills and collapsed into bed without even undressing. Frank entered the room moments later looking dazed.
“Fuckers put me on new ones,” he slurred, “Feels like I’m floating.” Frank grabbed his pyjamas and shut himself in the toilet to change. Gerard noticed he was still wearing long sleeves when he re-entered, but decided against saying anything. Frank sat on his bed and swayed lightly.
“What was all that with Bob earlier?” Gerard asked quietly, immediately wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Frank tensed up before looking down at his hands.
“He’s an asshole...” Frank murmured, “Keep away from him.” Gerard nodded and buried his face in the pillow, sleep overtaking him.
Several hours later Gerard woke in a daze. His hair was soaked and stuck to him with sweat. He gasped silently as a pain shot through his skull, settling in an ache in his temples. He looked over at Frank, who was sitting up in bed, toying with something in the dark. A sigh of relief was heard and Frank seemed to stretch out his arm and quickly run something over it. He did this again and again and Gerard felt as though he should know what was going on, but through the haze in his brain he couldn’t pinpoint it. He just wanted to get back to sleep, but it didn’t seem like that was possible. He shut his eyes tight and tried to will himself back to sleep, but he just couldn’t. Damn withdrawals. Frank put something in his drawer and took something else out. He wrapped his arm with it and then it clicked. Gauze. Gerard let out the breath he was holding and tried to get up, but his body felt like lead and he was left incapacitated.
“You okay, Frank?” he asked lazily. Frank froze and looked at Gerard like a deer in headlights.
“I- um... Yeah.” He gasped out, pulling his sleeve down frantically. He stopped short, “Are you okay?”
“Can’t sleep...” Gerard groaned as he shuffled onto his side, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Frank shot back, “I just- I can’t sleep either.” Gerard ‘hmm’d’ and tried to control his breathing through the nausea.
“I think... I think...” Gerard forced himself to move and rushed into the bathroom to cough up the rising bile. He felt Frank sit by the wall again with a short sigh.
“This sucks,” Gerard moaned as the tears slipped down his cheeks. He needed a distraction, “Tell me something, Frank.” Frank shifted again.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know; anything. Tell me something interesting.” There was a few moments of silence before Frank cleared his throat.
“Uh, when I came here, no, after that... This used to be a store cupboard for cleaning stuff. They made it into a toilet just for me.” They lapsed into silence again and Gerard huffed out a laugh.
“That’s not interesting at all.”
“Well I couldn’t think of anything!” Frank retorted, punching Gerard’s arm lightly, “Why don’t you tell me something?” Gerard sat back and puzzled for a few seconds before he froze, his blood running cold.
“You have blood on your sleeve.” Frank cocked an eyebrow and looked down before cursing profusely and rushing back into the room. Gerard sighed and closed his eyes before he felt Frank sit down again. When Gerard opened his eyes Frank’s previous white shirt had been changed for a black one. Frank looked embarrassed.
“It’s okay, Frank. It happened to me a couple of times before.” Frank looked at Gerard with a mix of suspicion and shock. Gerard pulled his sleeve up and flashed his silver scars, “It was a long time ago,” Gerard continued, “I was in High School and no one liked me. It made me feel better, until I found the drugs, of course.” Frank watched him intently, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, “If you do that again I can wrap it properly for you.” Gerard offered. Frank relaxed slightly.
“You won’t tell them?” he whispered. Gerard shook his head, “Fine. But don’t ever tell them. If you do, I won’t forgive you, and I like you, so that would suck.” Gerard smiled.
“It’s your turn to answer a question; why do you like me?” Gerard asked playfully. Frank smirked, feeling more confident.
“You’re hot; who could blame me?” Gerard faltered.
“You’re gay?” he asked a little too enthusiastically. Frank folded his arms and shook his head.
“I’m bi. What about you? No offense, but you don’t look like the straightest guy ever.”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“You started it,” Frank shot, “But you didn’t answer me.”
“My name’s Gerard Way, and I’m gay.” Frank spluttered out a laugh.
“Hello, Gerard.” He drawled out an imitation of an AA meeting. Gerard grinned; his headache was almost gone and he didn’t feel like he was made of concrete anymore.
“So, I’ve told you my story, why are you here?” he asked. Frank sighed and hunched over.
“If you really want to know, I’m here officially for PTSD. That’s ‘post traumatic stress disorder’. That’s all I’m saying.” Gerard nodded, deciding against pushing the matter any further. He picked himself up and walked back to his bed, collapsing on it with a yawn. Frank tentatively got into his own and laid down. Within mere minutes they were both sleeping soundly.
Author: hitthehighnotes
Pairing: Frank/Gerard , Onesided Gerard/Bob
Rating: NC17
Warning: Mental illness, drug abuse, self-harm, language, mentions of past abuse, suicidal themes
Disclaimer: don’t own My Chemical Romance, just what I write about them.
Summary: Gerard has been ripped away from his family as a result of a stupid mistake. Feeling as though he has nothing left, he finds someone who he needs, and might just need him.
Authors Notes: This is the first multi-chaptered MCR fic I’ve written, and hopefully it’ll be as good to read as it was to write! Thanks to cigarettes21 for helping correct the title!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
“Morning, Gerard! Breakfast is in ten minutes, so it’s time to get up.” Wendie sing-songed as Gerard turned over uncomfortably. He felt incredibly sick as he stared at her through glassy eyes; ‘Withdrawals,’ Gerard thought gloomily
“I haven’t eaten breakfast for three years.” He retorted groggily. Wendie laughed shortly.
“Don’t worry; you don’t have to actually eat at breakfast, just lunch and dinner.” Gerard sat up suddenly.
“Is there coffee?”
“There’s coffee.”
--
Gerard decided to sit alone this morning. The others had called him over but he’d politely told them he wanted to be on his own. He looked down at the sketchpad Wendie had gotten him yesterday, but he’d yet to start drawing anything. He was scanning the room, looking for one face he didn’t see at dinner. Gerard looked down at his coffee when suddenly he heard a scream from the corridor. Everyone was rushing to the door to see and Brendan motioned Gerard to see. Unable to curb his curiosity, Gerard joined the group and found himself being pushed to the front, Brendan resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder behind him.
“The little one’s Frank.” Brendan murmured almost excitedly. Frank was being pulled away from Bob, who was sporting a fat lip. It looked as through his eye were bruised too. Frank’s lip was split and blood poured from his nose. Frank screamed and tried to break free of the two nurses that held him, and Bob was grinning manically.
“It’s his fucking fault!” Frank shouted as a syringe was produced. His eyes widened in fear and he shook his head frantically, “Don’t inject me, please! He started it!” The needle was pushed into his arm and Gerard fought back the growing nausea at the sight of it. Frank seemed to deflate almost immediately and he was carried away to who-knows-where. The crowd dispersed and just Gerard and Brendan were left to watch Bob skulk off to his room, slamming the door heavily.
“What happened?” Gerard asked numbly. Brendan shrugged and sighed.
“It usually is Bob’s fault.” With that, Brendan rejoined his own table and Gerard sat back down. Usually? Frank seemed too small to be a fighter, but if he’d managed to get those hits in with Bob, Gerard figured he’d have to keep on Frank’s good side.
Later that night, Gerard stood outside the door of the room he was moving into that night. He’d been there for about four minutes, and if he was completely honest, he was kind of shitting himself. He couldn’t get the image of Frank trying to get to Bob out of his head. Frank had insisted it was Bob’s fault, but what if Gerard did something to upset Frank? He wasn’t sure he could even take a punch, let alone throw one, especially when he wasn’t drunk or high on something. Speaking of which, a headache was forming behind his eyes and he couldn’t stop yawning; his withdrawal had started. Eventually, he found the confidence to open the door slightly and poke his head around. Frank looked up from what he was doing immediately and tightly fisted whatever he had in his hand tightly. He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow.
“I won’t bite.” He commented lazily and Gerard took this as an invitation to come in. He put his bag on the made bed and sat for a moment, feeling dizzy suddenly. Frank eyed him curiously and put what was in his hand in the drawer next to his bed, “You my new roommate?”
“Yeah,” Gerard gasped out as a wave of nausea hit him. He could feel the cold sweat running down his neck. “’m Gerard.” Frank was looking at Gerard strangely.
“I’m Frank... Hey, are you okay?” he asked carefully. Gerard nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He curled in on himself and stared at the floor.
“Drug withdrawals, don’t worry about it.” He huffed. He felt his stomach lurching again and next thing Frank was leading him into the toilet where Gerard collapsed in front of the bowl and emptied his stomach. Frank sat on the floor awkwardly and patted Gerard’s back gently. Gerard flushed the toilet shakily and sat back against the opposite wall.
“Shit, how long’s this going to last?” Frank asked apprehensively. Gerard shrugged and laid his head on his shoulder with another yawn. He felt tired.
“Maybe a day or two? I’ve never had them before; whenever I felt the withdrawals kicking in I just took more.” Frank shifted himself and picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“What were you taking?” he asked. Gerard wondered if Frank was even allowed to ask this kind of stuff.
“Everything... Mostly coke and heroin though. Funnily, it was pills that landed me here,” Frank looked intrigued so Gerard continued, “I overdosed by accident; woke up in hospital,” he chuckled lightly, “They thought I tried to kill myself.”
“Did you?” Frank asked humorously.
“No. I was just having a good time, I guess.” Another lurch and Gerard was hunched over the toilet again, but he could only dry heave. His eyes were getting heavy and he hadn’t even taken meds yet.
“Do you want me to get Wendie?” Frank asked. He sounded scared. Gerard shook his head and wiped the sweat from his brow. At that moment a loud yell of, “Meds!” could be heard down the corridor and Gerard shakily got to his feet. He and Frank joined the queue and waited for their names to be called. As soon as Gerard reached the counter the nurse eyed him cautiously.
“Are you okay? You look pale.” Gerard assured her he was fine, took his pills and collapsed into bed without even undressing. Frank entered the room moments later looking dazed.
“Fuckers put me on new ones,” he slurred, “Feels like I’m floating.” Frank grabbed his pyjamas and shut himself in the toilet to change. Gerard noticed he was still wearing long sleeves when he re-entered, but decided against saying anything. Frank sat on his bed and swayed lightly.
“What was all that with Bob earlier?” Gerard asked quietly, immediately wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Frank tensed up before looking down at his hands.
“He’s an asshole...” Frank murmured, “Keep away from him.” Gerard nodded and buried his face in the pillow, sleep overtaking him.
Several hours later Gerard woke in a daze. His hair was soaked and stuck to him with sweat. He gasped silently as a pain shot through his skull, settling in an ache in his temples. He looked over at Frank, who was sitting up in bed, toying with something in the dark. A sigh of relief was heard and Frank seemed to stretch out his arm and quickly run something over it. He did this again and again and Gerard felt as though he should know what was going on, but through the haze in his brain he couldn’t pinpoint it. He just wanted to get back to sleep, but it didn’t seem like that was possible. He shut his eyes tight and tried to will himself back to sleep, but he just couldn’t. Damn withdrawals. Frank put something in his drawer and took something else out. He wrapped his arm with it and then it clicked. Gauze. Gerard let out the breath he was holding and tried to get up, but his body felt like lead and he was left incapacitated.
“You okay, Frank?” he asked lazily. Frank froze and looked at Gerard like a deer in headlights.
“I- um... Yeah.” He gasped out, pulling his sleeve down frantically. He stopped short, “Are you okay?”
“Can’t sleep...” Gerard groaned as he shuffled onto his side, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Frank shot back, “I just- I can’t sleep either.” Gerard ‘hmm’d’ and tried to control his breathing through the nausea.
“I think... I think...” Gerard forced himself to move and rushed into the bathroom to cough up the rising bile. He felt Frank sit by the wall again with a short sigh.
“This sucks,” Gerard moaned as the tears slipped down his cheeks. He needed a distraction, “Tell me something, Frank.” Frank shifted again.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know; anything. Tell me something interesting.” There was a few moments of silence before Frank cleared his throat.
“Uh, when I came here, no, after that... This used to be a store cupboard for cleaning stuff. They made it into a toilet just for me.” They lapsed into silence again and Gerard huffed out a laugh.
“That’s not interesting at all.”
“Well I couldn’t think of anything!” Frank retorted, punching Gerard’s arm lightly, “Why don’t you tell me something?” Gerard sat back and puzzled for a few seconds before he froze, his blood running cold.
“You have blood on your sleeve.” Frank cocked an eyebrow and looked down before cursing profusely and rushing back into the room. Gerard sighed and closed his eyes before he felt Frank sit down again. When Gerard opened his eyes Frank’s previous white shirt had been changed for a black one. Frank looked embarrassed.
“It’s okay, Frank. It happened to me a couple of times before.” Frank looked at Gerard with a mix of suspicion and shock. Gerard pulled his sleeve up and flashed his silver scars, “It was a long time ago,” Gerard continued, “I was in High School and no one liked me. It made me feel better, until I found the drugs, of course.” Frank watched him intently, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, “If you do that again I can wrap it properly for you.” Gerard offered. Frank relaxed slightly.
“You won’t tell them?” he whispered. Gerard shook his head, “Fine. But don’t ever tell them. If you do, I won’t forgive you, and I like you, so that would suck.” Gerard smiled.
“It’s your turn to answer a question; why do you like me?” Gerard asked playfully. Frank smirked, feeling more confident.
“You’re hot; who could blame me?” Gerard faltered.
“You’re gay?” he asked a little too enthusiastically. Frank folded his arms and shook his head.
“I’m bi. What about you? No offense, but you don’t look like the straightest guy ever.”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“You started it,” Frank shot, “But you didn’t answer me.”
“My name’s Gerard Way, and I’m gay.” Frank spluttered out a laugh.
“Hello, Gerard.” He drawled out an imitation of an AA meeting. Gerard grinned; his headache was almost gone and he didn’t feel like he was made of concrete anymore.
“So, I’ve told you my story, why are you here?” he asked. Frank sighed and hunched over.
“If you really want to know, I’m here officially for PTSD. That’s ‘post traumatic stress disorder’. That’s all I’m saying.” Gerard nodded, deciding against pushing the matter any further. He picked himself up and walked back to his bed, collapsing on it with a yawn. Frank tentatively got into his own and laid down. Within mere minutes they were both sleeping soundly.