Angels From the Neon 4
Part 3
Mikey looks thoughtful for a while before he admits: “I’m not sure. Not completely, anyway. Gerard says he saw him in the clinic, but he didn’t say who he was.”
Ray scoffs at that. “From what you’ve said Mikey, he doesn’t remember what happened in there, so the Drac could be anyone. Hell, he could be the one that fucked Gee up so bad…” he’s sorta playing Devil’s Advocate now, but some things need to be said.
“Gerard’s not acting like it.” Mikey says carefully. “He seems to be pretty… protective of him…”
Ray snorts a little. “Gerard doesn’t exactly have the normal reactions to things. I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He says, because Ray’s noticed, oh, he’s noticed, and knowing what he knows now about the pills they had to take and what Gerard had done, he’s not surprised that he’s got some wires crossed upstairs. In between Gerard’s almost violent mood swings, he could easily believe that he’d try to protect someone who’d hurt him.
“He…” Mikey begins, but then cuts himself off. “No. You’re wrong, I think. Frank’s not like that, not really. When I spoke to him he sounded like… Well, he sounded like a Zonerunner - he’s not on any meds that I can tell, and knowing BL/ind, I don’t think they’d just let one of their Dracs go clean. If this is a trick, it’s a pretty fucking risky one. We could’ve killed him easy at the store.”
Ray nods. He hasn’t been travelling with Mikey and Gerard for long, but he’s learnt that Mikey can be pretty perceptive at times and no matter what he thinks about Dracs in general or Frank in particular Mikey certainly has a point. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Says Ray, scratching at his shoulder. “You saw what Gerard did, yeah? With the water and the neon?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And there’s that box on his head. Never seen a Drac with one of those before. Shit’s gotta be connected, hasn’t it?”
Mikey puffs out a breath. “You think that’s how they were controlling him? With that box instead of pills?”
Ray nods. “And then when Gerard dropped the neon in that puddle, it must have… I dunno, short-circuited it or something. Then BANG: One free-thinking Drac.”
“It makes more sense than all this being a fucking elaborate trap.” Mikey agrees.
“So now what?” Ray asks after a pause. “We just gonna keep on ‘running with a tame Drac in the back of the car?”
Mikey shrugs. “I don’t think Gee’s gonna want him to leave, and to be honest, I got the impression that Frank’s not going anywhere on his own shout either. He seems a little… obsessed.”
“Obsessed? With Gerard? This shit just keeps getting weirder.”
“When Frank thought I was gonna ghost him, the only thing he wanted to know was if Gerard was okay.”
Ray pushes himself to his feet. “Riding with a Drac in the crew…” he cracks his neck. “Never saw THAT coming.”
Mikey gives a funny half-smile. “No-one ever said me and Gerard led boring lives.”
***
They were still sat in the old freezer. Gerard curled up against Frank’s side while Frank ran his fingers through the red strands of his hair. It was soothing and Frank could hardly bring himself to believe it was real. They hadn’t said anything for a while - nothing had seemed important enough.
Eventually though, Gerard broke the silence.
“The clinic…” he says his voice slightly hoarse. “What really happened in there?”
Frank shifts slightly so that he can see Gerard’s face. “To me or to you?”
Gerard tries to shrug, but Frank still has his arm slung over his shoulders and the movement comes out half-formed. “Either.” He says, “Or both, I guess.”
Frank breathes out slowly. He doesn’t really know where to begin with that question so he just decides to start at the beginning. “The first thing I can remember - my earliest memory, I mean - is from kindergarten. You probably went somewhere exactly like it so I’m sure you can imagine it. I was about four, I think, and I had a tantrum because one of the other kids took my favourite alphabet block while I was playing with it. I practically brought the house down with my yelling. None of the teachers knew what to do about it - I don’t think any of the kids had ever done anything like it before… So of course BL/ind got involved - changed my drugs, therapy, you know the drill - but it happened again. And again. And again, and soon I was taking pills that would’ve put a grown man in a coma but they weren’t even touching the side. I remember being so angry with everyone. I was only a kid and I just couldn’t understand why nobody else seemed to feel the same way.
Then, when I was eleven, BL/ind took me to the clinic. I think they’d run out of ideas - none of the usual things were working on me and once I was there, they found that none of the UN-usual things worked either.”
By now, Gerard has twisted himself around so he can look at Frank directly. “You were eleven years old, Frank. Fucking hell, you were just a kid!”
Frank tugs on Gerard’s hair one last time and moves his hands to tangle them in his lap. Gerard reaches out to cover them with his own.
“It wasn’t that bad.” Frank says quietly. “I was a guinea-pig for their new treatments, I think, but the worst thing that happened was that I got a headache from the flashing lights…” He laughs, “I used to think about you, you know.”
Gerard makes a pained noise in the back of his throat.
“After you’d been brought in. I wondered who you were - what your name was, that sort of thing. And…” Frank shakes his head, stops that thought right there. “I couldn’t believe it when you came back there. I thought…”
“You thought I was like you.” Gerard finishes.
“Yeah. But they kept letting you go. Every time they walked you past my room I’d think ‘Maybe this is it, this is the last time I’m gonna see him - they’ve found a way of making it STICK this time…”
“It stuck every time.” Gerard says morosely. “If it hadn’t been for Mikey…”
Frank shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. You got out. It doesn’t matter how.”
They’re silent again for a while and Frank finds himself reaching back up to touch Gerard’s hair again. “It was like this the last time I saw you.” He says sounding awed, “I’d never seen anything like it. Still haven’t.”
Gerard ducks his head for a moment as though he’s embarrassed. “There’s these ruins outside Battery City. They’re like; mostly just rubble so I don’t think BL/ind pays that much attention. I found the Trans-Am there like it was waiting for me and Mikey to come along and take it away… Anyway, there’s a few people there too, not really ‘runners but not citizens either. One of them’s this crazy chemist and I gave him a pile of my pills so he could study them. He paid me back by showing me how to mix up the dye. It was sort of meant to be one last fuck-you to BL/ind before Mikey turned eighteen and we started hopping.”
“It’s amazing.” Frank says honestly, “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s the last thought I remember before…” but he can’t finish that sentence, not really, because he doesn’t want to think about what they did to him. He starts a new one. “Then I woke up and you were pointing a gun at me.”
Gerard touches the box on the side of Frank’s head. “Is this what they did to you?”
“I remember someone coming to my room and telling me they’d found a way of fixing me. Then they took me to this operating theatre. That’s all I know.”
Gerard bites his lip. “What was it like?” he asks nervously, like he doesn’t really want to know the answer. “Like being asleep?”
“It’s… grey. All grey. Like sleeping without dreaming but I knew I was asleep. Does that make sense? It’s just nothing. But it feels like it lasted for years”
Gerard looks like he’s going to be sick. “That’s HORRIBLE.” He breathes, “God, Frankie… that’s just… worse than the pills.”
“It didn’t hurt.” Frank says. It seems important to point this out.
“That doesn’t matter.” Gerard says his voice tight with emotion. “We’re gonna find someone t get that thing out of your head. Fuck, Frankie, how are you not mad about this?”
Frank shrugs, “Don’t know any different I guess.” He says, “Anyway, it’s over now.”
Gerard shakes his head and tightens his grip on Frank’s arm. “Still, we’re gonna get that thing out. I don’t wanna worry about it, I dunno, reactivating again.”
Frank relaxes against Gerard. “Yeah.” He says, “That would be good.”
***
They all eat together that night. Ray shoots Frank suspicious looks over the chipped table but says nothing. Mikey watches Gerard and Frank together -they never move more than a few centimetres apart through the whole meal - but he thinks he trusts Frank now. He doesn’t think the connection between Frank and his brother is something that could be faked, especially not by anyone still under BL/ind control.
When they’ve finished eating, Ray breaks open his last bottle of home-made spirit. His hand hesitates for a second over the glass Mikey’s set out for Frank, but he pours some without comment. Frank thanks him with a grin on his face.
“Wait ‘till you try it.” Ray warns. He doesn’t quite return the smile, but Mikey thinks it’s a good sign.
Gerard claps Frank hard on the back several times when he chokes on the alcohol and starts coughing loudly.
“Wow.” Frank says when he can speak again. “I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
“Never will again.” Ray replies, emptying the last of the bottle into his own glass. “That’s the last of it.”
Mikey looks at the liquid left in the bottom of his tin can. “Good thing too.” He jokes, “This shit’s vile.”
Ray laughs. “You never complained about it before.”
“I didn’t want you to throw us out of the bar. Gerard would have, I dunno, cried like a bitch or something.”
“Leave me the fuck out of this!” Gerard grins.
Frank watches the conversation with delight and asks “What happened?” during a pause in the argument once it’s descended into playground name calling.
Ray stops laughing immediately. “I had a bar.” He says shortly. “A bar and a little girl and now they’re both gone.”
Frank looks worried but Ray doesn’t continue, just folds his arms and looks away.
“The Dracs came.” Gerard explains quietly. “They killed a few ‘runners and took her. Ray came with us. We were going to rescue her - we still are, but we don’t know how to try without all of us getting ghosted within thirty seconds of setting foot in Battery City, let alone trying to work out where they’re holding her.”
Frank thinks for a moment and then says “I’m sorry.”
“Frank…” Gerard starts.
“No, it’s fine. I really am sorry Ray. Is that why you kept asking me where Grace was?”
Ray finally looks back to the table. “Yes.”
Frank taps his fingers on the table for a few seconds. “She’s probably in the clinic.” He says finally.
Three pairs of eyes turn to stare at him.
“Why would she be in there?” asks Ray, “What are they doing to her?”
“Frank…” Gerard bites his lip, “What they did to you - you don’t think they’d do it to Grace do you?”
Frank shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” He says, “I think that’s a last resort. All I know is that they were always talking about the need for test subjects for the drugs. They couldn’t test them on me because they didn’t work right and they couldn’t test them on citizens because they had too much in their system already. They need people who were a clean sheet.”
“Grace.” Ray says, his hands clenching into fists. “She grew up in the zones, never taken their pills a day in her life.”
“Yeah.” Frank says, still sounding apologetic, like he’s afraid Ray’s gonna haul him off and punch him any moment. Mikey watches Gerard’s hand tighten on Frank’s leg under the table.
Ray sags noticeably. “Okay.” He says, sounding defeated. “So we know where she is, but that doesn’t get us much closer to being able to rescue her, does it?”
No-one says anything for a while, finishing their drinks in silence before Frank finally puts his empty glass on the table. “I’ll help.” He says. “Whenever, whatever you guys decide to do, count me in. They shouldn’t be able to get away with this.”
Ray finally meets Frank’s eyes, a tiny smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks.” He says, “That actually means a lot.”
***
When it gets too dark, Gerard tugs Frank into the back room, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Frank first thinks that Gerard means for him to sleep in the old freezer again, but he leads him to a pile of blankets heaped up in the opposite corner.
“Me and Mikey usually sleep here.” Gerard says, “But…” he tails off.
Frank can only just make him out in the dark. “You want…” he coughs, unsure. “You want me to sleep here? Instead?”
Gerard nods, “I… If you want to. I mean, you can sleep in the diner if you like.”
Frank thinks about Ray and the looks he’d been shooting him for most of the day. “Here’s good.” He says.
Gerard beams at him.
An hour later and Frank has come to the conclusion that he isn’t tired. He probably should be given everything that’s happened in the last twenty four hours but he’s just too ramped up to be able to close his eyes for more than a few moments at a time. Instead, he lies back, staring at the ceiling with his hands folded across his chest listening to the soft sounds of Gerard sleeping next to him.
He finally gives in and turns his head. Gerard’s lying on his side facing him and the sight makes Frank smile. Gerard’s a messy sleeper; limbs spread out in a way that would probably be annoying in a real bed - one knee drawn up between them and the arm that isn’t pillowed under his balled-up jacket is thrown out reaching for Frank, his fingertips just brushing his shoulder like he can’t bear to be apart from him even while he’s asleep. Now Frank can see them, he can suddenly feel them as well; through the thin cotton of his shirt they’re like two miniscule points of burning heat.
Gerard’s mouth is open and there’s hair all over his face in a way that has Frank’s fingers itching to brush it aside but he doesn’t because Frank is absolutely, totally, one hundred percent convinced that he’s never seen anything quite as beautiful in his entire life.
His fingers twitch on his chest as he watches Gerard sleep.
He’d been fourteen the first time he’d seen Gerard and for the next four years he’d been almost literally the only person who Frank had seen whose face hadn’t been covered by a mask, so the dreams really hadn’t been much of a surprise. Frank had lost count of the number of times he’d woken up panting and curled in on himself with an image of Gerard slowly fading from behind his eyelids.
Unfortunately, just because Frank understands what was happening now doesn’t make it easier because Gerard has been the be-all and end-all of Frank’s lonely teenage sexuality and now he’s sleeping next to him real and warm and alive and close enough for Frank to touch in all the ways he’s ever thought of in the middle of the night.
Frank watches him sleep for another few minutes before rolling over to stare at the remains of the diner kitchen. Gerard’s fingers slip from his shoulder as he moves and Frank shivers.
During the day, he hadn’t wanted to let Gerard go in case everything vanished and he woke up back surrounded by blank walls and screaming in the hallways, but at night, in the dark now it’s just the two of them, touching seems different. Too intimate, too much like Gerard’s part of his dreams rather than his nightmares.
It’s enough that they’re both here, it has to be. It seems safer that way.
***
Mikey is sitting cross-legged on the floor behind the diner counter, taking stock of their tin cans when he hears the squeakthump of the double doors opening. He doesn’t bother looking up, the two pairs of even footsteps sounding only a split second out of sync means it can only be his brother and Frank.
Mikey counts again, but the numbers remain the same - If Frank’s staying with them then they’re really going to need to go out for some more supplies soon They have enough for three more days before they start going hungry.
One pair of the footsteps stutters to a halt in the middle of the diner and Mikey hears Frank say “Oh…”, so quiet and full of wonder that it makes Mikey lay down the can currently in his hand silently and wait.
The silence stretches on.
Mikey hasn’t been able to find the mysterious DJ’s radio signal for the last few days and the diner still sounds somehow off without the noise.
Gerard breaks the quiet first, but he only gets as far as “It’s…” before Frank finishes the rest of his sentence.
“It’s me…” he breathes.
BL/ind had never even mentioned religion while Mikey was at school. There’d been no need for it in Battery City, and they’d never have allowed anything so cemented in faith and feelings, but Mikey’s read things since he’s been out in the zones - funny little pamphlets and books that talk about the old religions and he had thought that he understood what they meant. Or, rather, he’d THOUGHT he’d known what they had meant by the stories about rapture and love and hope. But now?
This? Right here, with the way Frank is staring up at the scraps of paper glued to the boards and how Gerard is smiling softly at him, makes Mikey finally understand.
And, if the next time he’s alone, he stops in front of the collage and looks at it and smiles as the separate tiny pieces coalesce into an idea of a picture of Frank’s face that he’s seen a hundred times and none at all then nobody knows except him.
***
“You need to stay in the car.” Ray says, forcefully. Gerard knows he still doesn’t really trust Frank, not completely.
Frank looks as though he’s going to argue but thinks better of it, folding his arms across his chest.
Gerard doesn’t really blame him for being cross but then he also doesn’t think it’s a good idea for Frank to show his face - or more accurately his head to the assembled group of ‘runners hawking junk from the backs of their rides. The last thing they need are awkward questions.
“We won’t be long.” Gerard says, trying to placate Frank. “We just need to trade out for some more food and shit and we’ll be right back. I’ll even see if we can find you a jacket or something.” He give Frank what he hopes is a reassuring smile but Gerard’s never really had much practice so it probably comes out a little wrong. He’s only ever tried to reassure Mikey before now and his brother could always see right through him.
“Look,” says Ray suddenly, toying with the holster at his thigh, “You’re staying in the fuckin’ car and that’s final. It’s not like we can leave without you.” He finishes in a tone of voice that makes Gerard think he’s tried - and failed - to think of a way they can do just that. He resists the urge to hit him. Ray hasn’t said anything about his misgivings regarding Frank since they’d met him two days ago, but he doesn’t really need to. It’s obvious that he’s only putting up with Frank’s presence so as not to cause conflict with Gerard and therefore Mikey. Gerard wishes it was different, that he could make Ray understand but if he thinks about it Ray’s reservations at least make sense - Jet Star was fighting Dracs since before Gerard and Mikey had even thought about ‘running.
Gerard knows that Ray understands that Mikey is following his lead out of trust, which is at least something Ray can put a name to, but Gerard doesn’t really understand his own faith in Frank. He’s not questioning it in itself, not at all, just where it comes from.
Ray stomps off towards the assembled cars and Mikey hovers for a moment before following him. Gerard smiles at Frank. “We won’t be long.”
Gerard keeps glancing back at the Trans-Am as Ray and Mikey barter for food and parts. From this distance, Frank’s an indistinct shadow in the back seat but Gerard still finds it comforting to check on him. He’s barely paying attention to anything else around him in fact. Mikey has to ask him a question about their supplies three times before Gerard can formulate an answer.
“What’s wrong, Gee?” Mikey hisses out of the corner of his mouth.
Gerard blinks, trying to refocus. Ray hasn’t noticed anything, too busy trying to barter down for a pile of electrics.
“I… Uh…” Gerard steals a glance back to the car and scratches an itch at his collar.
Mikey sighs, “You can wait in the car too, you know.” He says quietly.
Gerard shivers even though the sun is beating down. “I think… I should…” he starts, but he never gets to finish the sentence. It’s almost lucky because he really doesn’t know what he was going to say.
Frank has slammed open the car door and is running towards the makeshift market, screaming at the top of his voice.
“DRACS!” he yells, “Fuckin’ RUN!”
Gerard looks around him in a sudden panic, half expecting figures to pop out of nowhere, but Frank’s flapping a hand back out into the desert where two boxy white vans are heading towards them in clouds of whirling sand.
Everyone starts panicking at once, grabbing their gear and jumping into their cars. Gerard stares, frozen - there’s no way they’ll be able to get away. The Trans-Am is between them and the oncoming Dracs and the vans are too fast. They’ll be on them before they make it to the car.
***
Frank starts feeling twitchy as soon as Gerard walks away. He feels faintly ridiculous - he can still see Gerard, his bright red hair makes him impossible to miss, but this is the furthest he’s been from him since meeting him and he’s so used to just being able to stretch out a hand and touch him that being separated from him like this feels wrong and unnatural. He wonders how he managed to cope without it before for a moment and then starts to try to take his mind off it while his hands grip nervously on empty air.
A rising dust cloud in the distance catches his attention. For a while he thinks it’s simply another carful of ‘runners coming to trade but the cloud gets bigger and bigger until it’s clear that whatever’s causing it is larger than one junked out car.
Frank reaches for the door handle. He knows what the cloud means and oh shit, he has to warn everyone because Dracs are coming and Gerard - no one - is safe anymore.
Everyone turns when he starts shouting; all the traders slamming shut the trunks of their cars and jumping behind the wheels. Frank should have noticed the Dracs earlier, should have given them all more warning because he’s not sure that anyone will be able to outrun this many Dracs.
Frank realises that somehow they’re going to have to fight off two vanloads of Dracs and maybe that’s not all that realistic, but at least they’ve got some advanced warning and he’s damned if he’s gonna go down without a fight. He reaches Gerard, who’s still standing staring at the advancing vans as though he’s waiting for a plan to present itself. Frank doesn’t waste any time, just grabs the raygun from the opened holster at his thigh and turns, dropping to one knee as he lines up the sights with the front tyre of the leading van and firing off a shot.
He distantly hears someone shouting his name - it sounds like Ray, but there’s no time to answer as his blast explodes the tyre and the van swerves violently before losing balance and tipping over onto its side.
“Fuckin’ FIRE!” he yells, because the second van is still coming closer and it won’t take long before the Dracs in the crashed van get their shit together and come after them and they have fewer guns than people to shoot them.
There’s a movement beside him, a black shape that turns out to be Ray firing with deadly accuracy at the second van, taking out the driver through the windscreen and forcing it to a stop. Mikey joins in alongside them with some of the other ‘runners who haven’t left yet. The air is full of rayblasts and fortunately most of them come from their side, the Dracs climbing out of the vans are getting picked off almost before they can return fire.
Some sort of sixth sense tells Frank that Gerard isn’t behind him any longer and almost everything in his body is screaming to turn around and look for him because it would probably be just Frank’s luck to lose Gerard two days after finding him but there’s a miraculously more rational part of his brain that seems to be more in control which convinces him to wait until the threat is over before turning his back on the Dracs, so Frank keeps shooting, squeezing the trigger of Gerard’s gun over and over again because it feels like he’s the only thing standing between BL/ind and his new-found crew and fuck, if Gerard’s been hurt - he doesn’t even let the word ‘killed’ begin to cross his mind - then Frank’s gonna spend the rest of his life tracking down every last Drac in the zones.
***
Despite Gerard - and by proxy, Mikey’s - willingness to trust Frank, Ray still isn’t totally sold on the idea of trusting someone who used to work for BL/ind until he sees Frank shooting at the oncoming Dracs with such singleminded determination that he doesn’t think Frank’s aware that the Dracs have even started shooting back.
Ray, along with Mikey and Gerard, quickly takes cover behind one of the remaining cars, taking their shots from relative safety while Frank doesn’t even bother to hide, firing with such calm determination that it’s actually almost frightening.
Ray keeps an eye on him as much as he can; watching in amazement as Frank keeps shooting, walking slowly forward across the desert and advancing on the two stationary vans. He’s yelling something that sounds like it’s full of rage and hatred but his exact words are swept away by the wind and covered by the crackling of rayblasts. There’s no way in hell Frank’s still controlled by BL/ind or anything except himself.
The Dracs are all motionless long before Frank takes his finger off the trigger. The Zonerunner in Ray wants to shout at him - they’re really not in the position to be wasting batteries like this, but Frank doesn’t look like he’s in the right place to listen to rational arguments at the moment. Finally the gun starts clicking on empty and Frank pulls the trigger several more times before Gerard lays a hand on his outstretched arm.
“It’s okay.” He says, quietly, “They’re all dead. I’m right here.”
The few remaining ‘runners are watching them with what passes for interest out in the zones - shifty sideways glances and raised eyebrows. Ray tries to move so he’s standing between them and Gerard and Frank because if the look on the ex-Drac’s face is anything to go by, the ‘runners are going to get something a whole lot more interesting to watch in the next few moments.
“We should motor.” He says loudly, making Frank jump slightly. “Get in the car.”
Mikey gently herds Frank and Gerard back to the Trans-Am in silence, opening the rear doors for them before climbing behind the wheel. Ray looks back at the small group of ‘runners but while some are watching them the others are checking over their cars. They’ll get away with this easy.
Ray folds himself into the passenger seat and releases a loud breath as Mikey guns the engine and pulls the car around, heading back to the diner. He glances into the rearview mirror once they’re out on the open road - Frank and Gerard are curled tightly round each other again, and it looks like Frank has a hand tightly gripped in Gerard’s hair. It’s less worrying than it had been.
Ray stares out of the side window until they’re back at the diner.
***
The addition of Frank to their crew does little to change their day-to-day lives. He claims the back seat of the Trans-Am as his own and Mikey does most of the driving so that Gerard can climb into the back with Frank. It’s safer that way. When Gerard drives, Frank has the disconcerting habit of pulling on the hair at the back of Gerard’s head and making the car swerve wildly over the road.
Mikey rarely sees them apart, not in the usual way - the way that they’re all usually together because they’re crew and they sleep and eat and hop zones together - Gerard and Frank are together because they’re always WITH each other, like they’re both too afraid to let the other go in case they slip away. It’s always Frank’s hands in Gerard’s hair and Gerard’s fingers on Frank’s arm and while he’s pretty sure they’re not fucking - because, hell, where would they get the time or privacy for that? - He doesn’t think he’d be all that surprised by it, Gerard’s always been… different.
The thing is though, that Frank’s good for him, Mikey’s tried - oh God, he’s tried - but somehow Frank GETS his brother in a way that’s totally different. Mikey would be jealous if it wasn’t so obvious. Gerard and Frank sleep in the back room of the diner now, he’s seen them, curled up together under a pile of leather and blankets and not-quite-touching.
He found another magazine, tucked under a pile of punctured tires at a deserted Pegasus and pulled it out, flattening them under his fingers. It’s become a habit now, collecting things for his brother to create with, but when he hands it to Gerard he just twitches his mouth up at the corner and thanks him politely.
Gerard hasn’t worked on the collage at the diner in days.
Occasionally he watches them both, while he’s driving with one eye on the rearview at them piled together under a blanket on the back seat. Frank’s head moving updown with every breath Gerard takes, his hand in a death grip around Frank’s wrist like he never wants to let go. Mikey wonders if it’s good that they found each other, or if it just means that there’s one more thing for Gerard to lose.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part 5