My Angel [[standalone]]
Title: My Angel
Author: howXiXdisappear
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Word Count: 1,449
Prompt: Hallucinate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It all started when the boy from Newark moved to my neighborhood. The boy with the angel face.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author's Note: This fic was written for whatweneversaid, who NEEDS TO WRITE MORE HERSELF DAMMIT. Beta-ed by my wonderful girlfriend psychicfeeling. Because I'm all about self-pimpage, my prompt table where I am accepting story requests can be found here ---> http://howxixdisappear.livejournal.com/28732.html
It all started when the boy from Newark moved to my neighborhood. The boy with the angel face. Nobody else seemed to notice him, nobody else seemed to care that he was there. But I noticed him. I cared.
When we first met, a signal was going off in my head right away telling me “hey, Frank! THIS is the guy who’s gonna change your life. Let him.” So I did. He told me his name was Gerard, and I thought it was the perfect name for an angel. We sat on his back porch and talked until midnight. I didn’t really learn much about him; he didn’t want to go into details of his personal life. Instead, he learned everything about me.
I don’t think I have ever been this happy before.
My parents didn’t know about the angel down the street. There weren’t enough words to describe him, and there wasn’t a single word I could use that wouldn’t implicate my closeted homosexuality. So the angel was my secret. When they would ask me where I’ve been all night, I’d lie. It was easy. It was for my angel.
“Why don’t you talk to anyone else?” I asked him one night. We were laying on his bedroom floor and Pink Floyd was on the radio. Goodbye, Blue Sky. He sat up quickly; I couldn’t read the expression on his face as his forehead wrinkled and his brows furrowed and his eyes looked…
“What do you mean?” Sad? Maybe it came out wrong. Maybe he thought I meant I was getting sick of him, when that wasn’t what I was trying to say at all.
“I-it’s just…don’t you get lonely? When I’m not here…no one else pays attention to you. No one else treats you like an angel.” He smiled slightly and shook his head.
“I’m no angel.” He muttered.
“Then what are you?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
Those words made me angry. Through tears and a flushed face, I asked him again why he didn’t talk to anyone but me. My heart was pounding. So many solutions to the problem were running through my mind, and he just sat there picking at the carpet, looking kind of embarrassed and I knew he was going to shut down again. We sat in silence for what seemed like forever, the only noise was the radio and my thoughts screaming in my ears.
Finally, he looked up at me. A tear ran down his cheek as he whispered, “Because no one else know I’m here.”
I met The Woman the next day. My parents sat outside the room, pale but expressionless. I didn’t understand. The Woman was in her mid-forties, with long dark hair streaked with grey and a bony face. She looked like she just ate something bad. She introduced herself to me as Doctor Michelle, but I still only knew her as The Woman. I told her a little bit about Gerard, because somehow my parents found out about him and that was why I was talking to The Woman that day. I told her I was in love with him. I told her he was secretly an angel.
She gave me a prescription for some medication. Shortly after I started taking that medication, Gerard stopped talking to me. He told me the medication made me a different person, and he didn’t like what I was becoming. I stopped taking the meds, and he came back.
We made love on his bedroom floor, and he told me he was in love with me too.
There is a lot I don’t remember after that. It might be days, it might be years. But I open my eyes, and the first thing I notice is that my angel isn’t next to me. The second thing I notice is that the room is pitch black, and from what I can make out, it’s empty. This is when I get all sweaty and nervous, and I start crawling around the room, for some reason feeling way too tired to walk, and I’m looking for a door. The room seems to get longer and longer with every movement I make. After two hundred years, the earth begins to move from underneath me, and the sun begins to rise from outside. The room is still dark, but as my strength returns and as I start to walk, I see a light coming from what has to be the end. I follow. Another hundred years pass.
My eyes open again, and I’m in a padded room.
I look around for Gerard. I scream for him. Later, a man in white tells me there is no Gerard. I try to explain that there is, that he lives in my neighborhood and we’re in love. He tells me there is no one named Gerard in my neighborhood. He seems like a very arrogant guy, and it pisses me off. I tell him so, and he says that I’ve caused a lot of trouble these last few days. Of course, I know that’s bullshit, because for the last three hundred years, I’ve been locked in a dark room, miraculously surviving without sleep, food, or water all this time. Miraculously coming out young again.
When I try to explain my long journey to him, he pats my shoulder and calls me a kid. Asshole. Fucking asshole.
As we walk down long white corridors, I glance around, hoping that maybe this entire thing is a big old joke and Gerard is waiting with my parents by the door, and they’ll take me home and everything will be okay. A man is muttering to himself and hitting his head on the wall. Another one is dancing around him, calling him the general. If that man is the general, all I can say is that America sure as shit went way downhill in these last three hundred years.
Must be the republicans.
The room the man in white says I’m going to stay in for a while is small, containing only a bed and a bedside table. My clothes aren’t in the closet, my CDs aren’t here at all. Someone had to have stolen everything. My bet is on the general; the fucking republican bastard.
Later, The Woman shows up out of nowhere. I think she’s secretly a ninja or an FBI agent, so she’s probably working on getting my stuff back from the general, who’s probably still banging his head against the wall to make everyone think that he’s just some clueless lunatic as opposed to a corrupt military man. I explain my theory about the general to her, just in case she doesn’t have any leads on who did it, but she only shakes her head ‘no’.
“Frank…you aren’t understanding.” She says.
“What? You’re in the fucking FBI, aren’t you? Go get my stuff back from him!” I cross my arms, not really in the mood for more bullshit, because I’m already stuck in this stupid room and don’t know where Gerard or my family is.
“You’re in a mental institution.”
Of course, this HAS to be a joke, because there’s no way in hell I’m crazy. It has to be a joke…or maybe the government is after my family, namely after myself, and so I’m being hidden here and need to pretend that I’m a crazy guy so they won’t suspect where I am. This makes a lot of sense to me, so I decide I better play along, because they’re probably watching.
“Oh. Okay.” I say, sitting down on the bed. If I pretend that I don’t care because I’m a crazy guy, they’ll never know, and then it won’t be too much longer before I get to see Gerard again. She looks bewildered for a moment and sits next to me. Her hand lays on my shoulder, which I think is kind of weird because usually people don’t touch me like that.
“He isn’t real, Frank…the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can go home.”
That’s the last time I see The Woman. I guess she tried to visit a few more times; I didn’t want to see her. Hell, I wouldn’t even see my own parents. I just want to see Gerard. He has to know where I am. He has to know what’s going on…but what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks I died? He must be so worried…but he knows where I live. He could go ask my parents- unless he did and they lied and SAID I’m dead. Oh my fucking God, that has to be the reason why he hasn’t visited. He wouldn’t just not show up. He wouldn’t.
He loves me.
Author: howXiXdisappear
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Word Count: 1,449
Prompt: Hallucinate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It all started when the boy from Newark moved to my neighborhood. The boy with the angel face.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author's Note: This fic was written for whatweneversaid, who NEEDS TO WRITE MORE HERSELF DAMMIT. Beta-ed by my wonderful girlfriend psychicfeeling. Because I'm all about self-pimpage, my prompt table where I am accepting story requests can be found here ---> http://howxixdisappear.livejournal.com/28732.html
It all started when the boy from Newark moved to my neighborhood. The boy with the angel face. Nobody else seemed to notice him, nobody else seemed to care that he was there. But I noticed him. I cared.
When we first met, a signal was going off in my head right away telling me “hey, Frank! THIS is the guy who’s gonna change your life. Let him.” So I did. He told me his name was Gerard, and I thought it was the perfect name for an angel. We sat on his back porch and talked until midnight. I didn’t really learn much about him; he didn’t want to go into details of his personal life. Instead, he learned everything about me.
I don’t think I have ever been this happy before.
My parents didn’t know about the angel down the street. There weren’t enough words to describe him, and there wasn’t a single word I could use that wouldn’t implicate my closeted homosexuality. So the angel was my secret. When they would ask me where I’ve been all night, I’d lie. It was easy. It was for my angel.
“Why don’t you talk to anyone else?” I asked him one night. We were laying on his bedroom floor and Pink Floyd was on the radio. Goodbye, Blue Sky. He sat up quickly; I couldn’t read the expression on his face as his forehead wrinkled and his brows furrowed and his eyes looked…
“What do you mean?” Sad? Maybe it came out wrong. Maybe he thought I meant I was getting sick of him, when that wasn’t what I was trying to say at all.
“I-it’s just…don’t you get lonely? When I’m not here…no one else pays attention to you. No one else treats you like an angel.” He smiled slightly and shook his head.
“I’m no angel.” He muttered.
“Then what are you?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
Those words made me angry. Through tears and a flushed face, I asked him again why he didn’t talk to anyone but me. My heart was pounding. So many solutions to the problem were running through my mind, and he just sat there picking at the carpet, looking kind of embarrassed and I knew he was going to shut down again. We sat in silence for what seemed like forever, the only noise was the radio and my thoughts screaming in my ears.
Finally, he looked up at me. A tear ran down his cheek as he whispered, “Because no one else know I’m here.”
I met The Woman the next day. My parents sat outside the room, pale but expressionless. I didn’t understand. The Woman was in her mid-forties, with long dark hair streaked with grey and a bony face. She looked like she just ate something bad. She introduced herself to me as Doctor Michelle, but I still only knew her as The Woman. I told her a little bit about Gerard, because somehow my parents found out about him and that was why I was talking to The Woman that day. I told her I was in love with him. I told her he was secretly an angel.
She gave me a prescription for some medication. Shortly after I started taking that medication, Gerard stopped talking to me. He told me the medication made me a different person, and he didn’t like what I was becoming. I stopped taking the meds, and he came back.
We made love on his bedroom floor, and he told me he was in love with me too.
There is a lot I don’t remember after that. It might be days, it might be years. But I open my eyes, and the first thing I notice is that my angel isn’t next to me. The second thing I notice is that the room is pitch black, and from what I can make out, it’s empty. This is when I get all sweaty and nervous, and I start crawling around the room, for some reason feeling way too tired to walk, and I’m looking for a door. The room seems to get longer and longer with every movement I make. After two hundred years, the earth begins to move from underneath me, and the sun begins to rise from outside. The room is still dark, but as my strength returns and as I start to walk, I see a light coming from what has to be the end. I follow. Another hundred years pass.
My eyes open again, and I’m in a padded room.
I look around for Gerard. I scream for him. Later, a man in white tells me there is no Gerard. I try to explain that there is, that he lives in my neighborhood and we’re in love. He tells me there is no one named Gerard in my neighborhood. He seems like a very arrogant guy, and it pisses me off. I tell him so, and he says that I’ve caused a lot of trouble these last few days. Of course, I know that’s bullshit, because for the last three hundred years, I’ve been locked in a dark room, miraculously surviving without sleep, food, or water all this time. Miraculously coming out young again.
When I try to explain my long journey to him, he pats my shoulder and calls me a kid. Asshole. Fucking asshole.
As we walk down long white corridors, I glance around, hoping that maybe this entire thing is a big old joke and Gerard is waiting with my parents by the door, and they’ll take me home and everything will be okay. A man is muttering to himself and hitting his head on the wall. Another one is dancing around him, calling him the general. If that man is the general, all I can say is that America sure as shit went way downhill in these last three hundred years.
Must be the republicans.
The room the man in white says I’m going to stay in for a while is small, containing only a bed and a bedside table. My clothes aren’t in the closet, my CDs aren’t here at all. Someone had to have stolen everything. My bet is on the general; the fucking republican bastard.
Later, The Woman shows up out of nowhere. I think she’s secretly a ninja or an FBI agent, so she’s probably working on getting my stuff back from the general, who’s probably still banging his head against the wall to make everyone think that he’s just some clueless lunatic as opposed to a corrupt military man. I explain my theory about the general to her, just in case she doesn’t have any leads on who did it, but she only shakes her head ‘no’.
“Frank…you aren’t understanding.” She says.
“What? You’re in the fucking FBI, aren’t you? Go get my stuff back from him!” I cross my arms, not really in the mood for more bullshit, because I’m already stuck in this stupid room and don’t know where Gerard or my family is.
“You’re in a mental institution.”
Of course, this HAS to be a joke, because there’s no way in hell I’m crazy. It has to be a joke…or maybe the government is after my family, namely after myself, and so I’m being hidden here and need to pretend that I’m a crazy guy so they won’t suspect where I am. This makes a lot of sense to me, so I decide I better play along, because they’re probably watching.
“Oh. Okay.” I say, sitting down on the bed. If I pretend that I don’t care because I’m a crazy guy, they’ll never know, and then it won’t be too much longer before I get to see Gerard again. She looks bewildered for a moment and sits next to me. Her hand lays on my shoulder, which I think is kind of weird because usually people don’t touch me like that.
“He isn’t real, Frank…the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can go home.”
That’s the last time I see The Woman. I guess she tried to visit a few more times; I didn’t want to see her. Hell, I wouldn’t even see my own parents. I just want to see Gerard. He has to know where I am. He has to know what’s going on…but what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks I died? He must be so worried…but he knows where I live. He could go ask my parents- unless he did and they lied and SAID I’m dead. Oh my fucking God, that has to be the reason why he hasn’t visited. He wouldn’t just not show up. He wouldn’t.
He loves me.