Three Cheers for Tyranny [part 6]
Three Cheers for Tyranny
[ index] - [ prologue] - [ part 1] - [ part 2] - [ part 3] - [ part 4] - [ part 5a] - [ part 5b] - [part 6]
[ art by laziilemon] - [ mix by quarterturn]
With the danger gone, Gerard felt it was time to let everything out in the open. In the right company, that was. He met individually with the Dons from the other Families in New York and gave them a summary of what had been going on. For the most part, they were sympathetic; at worst, they didn’t seem to care. Gerard wasn’t met with any hostility, and for that, Frank was grateful.
Gerard told the other men that he was planning to change the way his Family was run, and that the last thing he wanted was a war. He diplomatically smoothed over the damaged relationships and made deals left and right to ensure that he had enough freedom to spread his wings. Frank was impressed; Gerard even charmed the men into thinking it was their own idea.
It took a while for the paranoia, the feeling of constantly being on edge, to wear off for both of them. Frank still wasn’t sleeping well, and Gerard had been an insomniac since he was a teenager, but instead of worrying until they were literally sick with it, Frank and Gerard found much more fun ways to spend their sleepless nights.
It finally sank in for Frank when he saw on the news that the deaths of several high-profile mobsters were not being investigated too deeply. The reporter said that the police suspected a mob hit, and that the offending parties had been killed in the battle. Frank could see Lindsey Ballato and William Beckett’s fingerprints all over that media bullshit, and that night, he passed out for twelve hours solid and woke up feeling alive again.
***
“Frank!” Tony giggled down the line. Frank held the phone a few inches away from his ear, overwhelmed by the volume of the background noise.
“Where the hell are you?” he asked loudly.
“At a fuckin’ club, man. It’s great. I’m so… I’m so drunk, Frankie.”
Frank laughed. “Hey, yeah, okay, Tony? Why are you calling, dude, what’s up? Where’s Mr. and Mrs. Way?”
“They’re in their room, Frank,” Tony replied forlornly. “I’m all alone. Well, not alone. I’m in Vegas, Frank. Fuckin’ Vegas. But they’re having sex in their fuckin’ honeymoon suite and I’m down here in the bar.”
“Awesome,” Frank said cheerfully. “Give the happy couple my best. And don’t get so drunk you fuck some girl and pass out and can’t remember the next morning.”
“Pfft,” Tony scoffed. “Anyway! I was just, y’know, wonderin’… What’s up with Gee, man? You don’t sound dead or anything, so I guess things went okay.”
Frank shook his head in amusement. It was funny to see Tony so out of the loop; usually, he was the one in the very center of the loop. It was also funny to see Tony drunk off his face, which Frank had only experienced a few times in his life. Tony rarely went past tipsy. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “We’re good up here, Tony.”
“Oh! Oh yeah. Mikey said… He said that he’s ready to come back to Jersey.”
Frank sat up straight. “He said what?”
“We’re comin’ back. In a couple days, I think,” Tony slurred. “He said he’d book a flight.”
“Seriously?” Frank grinned. “I need to tell Gerard. Call me back when you know the flight and stuff, okay? Don’t drink too much. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay, Frankie-Frank. See you. Soon. Sooooon.”
“Goodbye, Tony.”
Frank clicked off the phone and practically skipped to Gerard’s office. Gerard took one look at his face and raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “What’s going on?”
“Mikey’s coming home,” Frank sang cheerfully. “I just talked to Tony, who is a hilarious drunk, I might add, and he said Mikey’s booking a flight home.”
Gerard sighed and tilted back in his chair, smiling up at the ceiling. “Thanks, Frankie.”
“You were worried about him, weren’t you?” Frank asked knowingly. He leaned his hip against Gerard’s desk.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’ll be good to have them back.”
“I guess Alicia’s going to be living here,” Frank pointed out. “They are married now.”
“Oh shit, yeah. We should have some kind of welcome-home-slash-congratulations party for them.” He raised his head and looked up at Frank. “I can’t believe I wasn’t there for my little brother’s wedding.”
“He’s all grown up, now.”
Gerard grinned. “Where does that leave us?”
“I’m going to be a kid forever, you know that,” Frank replied, waving his hand in front of him. “And you were a grown-up since as long as I can remember.”
“You’re not a kid, Frankie,” Gerard murmured. “You’ve done so much.”
“And you’re too young to be a grown-up,” Frank countered, equally quiet. “We’re just us.”
***
Their party ended up being more of a family dinner, with Mark and Tony’s parents and Vinnie and a few of Frank and Gerard’s cousins. Everyone congratulated the happy couple, and Mikey looked happier than Frank ever remembered. He glanced over at Gerard and found him grinning at his younger brother. The happiness was contagious.
Alicia was more gracious than Frank ever remembered, too. She didn’t look down her nose at anyone, and she didn’t send any disapproving glances Gerard’s way, and nobody mentioned the Family business.
After the guests had gone, Frank and the others gathered in the lounge while Mikey and Alicia described the wedding ceremony for them. Tony escaped to his room, claiming to be desperate for his own space, his own bed, and finally some peace and quiet. Mark, however, listened eagerly to Mikey’s story about finding Tony in an elevator with some showgirl, drunk off his ass.
Frank sat on the couch with Gerard, close enough that their thighs and arms were touching. Frank leaned into him a little and nodded towards Mikey. He had his arm around Alicia’s shoulders and was playing with a lock of her long, dark hair, and Alicia’s hands were clasped and resting on Mikey’s thigh. Gerard nudged Frank in the ribs and grinned.
***
Now that things were running smoothly with the business, Gerard spent less time secluded in his office, working. Frank took the opportunity to celebrate a little, clinging onto Gerard’s shoulders when he wandered into the kitchen looking for food, sitting in his lap while Gerard tried to read a book in his armchair, hip-checking Gerard into walls when they passed each other in the hallway.
Frank was high on life and too giddy to hold back his affections. Mikey didn’t seem to care whenever he found them in a more-than-friendly position, and Alicia didn’t look at all surprised. Tony ignored it completely and apparently liked to pretend that Frank just wasn’t all over Gerard, even when he obviously was.
One night, Frank walked in on Gerard and Mark watching a movie. By the look of the two extra wine glasses on the coffee table, Frank suspected that Mikey and Alicia had recently gone to bed. He flopped down in their vacated seats on the couch and put his head in Gerard’s lap.
“You make a good pillow,” he said quietly, smiling up at Gerard before turning his head to watch the movie. Gerard didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, and after a moment, he settled one on his own thigh and one on Frank’s shoulder.
By the end of the movie, the hand on Gerard’s thigh had migrated to Frank’s hair and Gerard was petting him absently as the credits rolled. He stopped suddenly, realizing what he was doing, and said he had to go to bed. He eased out from under Frank and disappeared, leaving Frank sighing up at the ceiling.
“How long has that been going on?” Mark asked quietly.
“Hmm?”
“You and Gee.”
Frank froze. He couldn’t look over at Mark, not now. “What do you mean?” he asked casually.
Mark scoffed. “I don’t care, Frank. You’ve been following Gerard around like a lovesick puppy since you were a kid. I’m honestly not that surprised.”
Mark stood up and came over to him. “Okay, cool,” Frank said quietly, because Mark seemed to expect a reply.
“You gonna go after him?” Frank broke into a smile and nodded. “Fuckin’ gay-boy,” Mark muttered, and reached down to help Frank to his feet.
***
The secret was out. Inside the household, at least. Gerard still didn’t like to touch or kiss in front of anyone, and he blushed fiercely whenever Mikey called attention to their relationship, but Frank didn’t mind. He was glad to have somewhere he didn’t have to hide.
The teasing wasn’t even too bad. It wasn’t like Frank expected: when Frank came down to the kitchen for coffee, bleary-eyed and hair sticking up every direction, Alicia smirked and asked if he’d had fun the night before. Frank had indeed had fun, and he couldn’t stop the smile flashing across his face, and Alicia just shook her head and ruffled his hair as she passed by. Comments like that were pretty much the extent of the teasing.
It made Frank more confident, if anything. Perhaps too confident. Frank no longer felt weird about sitting pressed up against Gerard on a couch or a bench; he didn’t feel that cold rush of worry whenever he touched Gerard’s hand or shoulder; he didn’t mind reaching over and fixing Gerard’s tie or shirt collar when it didn’t sit right. It made Frank careless.
***
Frank stood in Gerard’s doorway, leaning against it and smoking silently. The office was already cloudy with stale cigarette smoke; Gerard sometimes went through more cigarettes than he realized when he was concentrating. Frank, lost in thought, tried to blow smoke rings and failed. Gerard’s voice startled him from his reverie.
“What’s up?” he asked, flicking his cigarette into an overflowing ashtray. He took another drag and then stubbed it out, waving away the smoke with his free hand. Frank watched him in silence. “Frankie, you’ve been standing there for like, twenty minutes. What’s up?”
“Just thinking,” Frank managed finally. He licked his lips and continued staring into the room without really seeing Gerard or the desk. Gerard stared right back at him until Frank noticed and looked away.
“About what?” Gerard asked, in the voice that made Frank want to do anything he said. Frank wasn’t the only one, either. When Gerard used that voice on people, he got what he wanted. Frank was just ridiculously weak, though, and almost always gave in immediately.
Also, he knew Gerard was using that voice on him deliberately.
“You know you’re a manipulative fuck, right?” he began pointedly. He approached the desk slowly, with the intent of stubbing out his cigarette in Gerard’s ashtray. Gerard shrugged. Frank sighed. “Why can’t we just… run away? Leave Mikey in charge and go buy a beach house in the Caribbean?” Frank knew he was being somewhat petulant, but it was frustrating, not being allowed to do anything that might reveal their relationship.
“I don’t like the beach,” Gerard teased. “Not even the ones in Jersey.” The smile slid off his face when Frank didn’t return it. After a moment during which they both just stared calmly at each other, Gerard said with a slight shake of his head, “Mikey can’t do what I do.”
“He could. You could teach-”
“He can’t, Frankie. He doesn’t care enough.” Gerard’s calm reasoning gave Frank the impression that he’d thought about this possibility at considerable length.
“He loves this Family as much as you do!” Frank cried desperately. He was frustrated with the Family, with Mikey, and mostly with Gerard for always being right.
“No, he doesn’t,” Gerard replied sadly. “He doesn’t want any part of this, you know that. He resents the Family.”
Frank stared down at Gerard in disbelief. “And you’re saying you don’t? You fucking should, Gee. I sure as hell do.”
Gerard’s expression hardened. “Don’t say that,” he said stiffly.
“God,” Frank spat, turning away. “Show some fucking emotion, Gee. Let it out.”
“What do you want me to do,” Gerard shouted, rising to his feet, “cry about it? I love you, Frank. I love my job, but I’m willing to risk it all for you, okay?”
“Not enough,” Frank muttered before he could stop himself. Gerard’s face crumpled in dismay and he seemed to deflate before Frank’s eyes.
“What do you want, Frank?” Gerard asked desperately.
“I just want you,” Frank yelled back. “I want a real relationship, that’s all. Is that so much to fucking ask?”
Gerard was quiet for a moment. Without taking a breath, he whispered, “Yes.” He and Frank stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Gerard looked away and sat back down. In a stronger voice, he said, “We’ve had this discussion before, Frank. You know the reasons we can’t. It’s not an option.”
Fuming, Frank stalked back to the doorway. Before leaving, he turned around and hissed, “I should just fucking quit.”
Gerard looked up and met his eyes. “You won’t,” he said confidently.
Damn Gerard for always being right. Frank twisted his lips into his best menacing look, with his teeth showing. “Fuck you,” he muttered, turning on his heel and storming out. He wanted to punch someone, or something, but he knew from experience that hitting a wall would just fuck up his hand. He kicked his bedroom door with all the strength he could muster, and it bounced off the inner wall with a satisfyingly sharp crack.
Frank shut himself in his room for the rest of the evening, listening to a metal station on the radio with his headphones on and staring off into space, trying not to think too hard about anything. He saw the door fly open, but he couldn’t hear the bang it must’ve made when it connected with the wall. Gerard stomped in and Frank yanked his headphones off his ears.
“You want to beat someone up?” Gerard asked angrily. He flung a few sheets of paper onto the bed. “Here. Have fun.” He disappeared again, as quickly as he’d come.
Frank was just reaching for the papers when Gerard appeared in the doorway again, this time with a pained look on his face.
“I’m fucking trying, okay? I don’t know what to do, but I’m trying. Okay? Frank? I’m sorry.”
***
“What did you do?” Bob asked wearily.
Frank held out his hands: his knuckles were split open and caked with blood, but that was it.
Bob sat down and started cleaning the cuts. “Y’know, one day you’re going to do irreparable damage to your hands,” he said casually. Like that would make Frank stop.
“Yeah, well, then I’ll have to work on my high-kicks.”
“What did you do, Frankie?” Bob asked again. “I thought things were okay now?”
“Gee and I got in a fight and I needed to beat somebody up, so he sent me out,” Frank explained quietly. “I didn’t kill him, but I maybe went a little overboard. On the bright side, he won’t try to double-cross Gerard again.”
“Go back to the part where you and Gerard are fighting,” Bob said. “What happened?”
“Nothing physical, shut up!”
“I didn’t think you hit him, that’s not what I meant. What are you fighting about?”
Frank sighed and leaned back on the cushioned table. Bob still held his hands, dabbing them with gauze and chemicals that made the wounds sting. “You’re not going to let me go until I talk about it, are you?”
Bob shrugged.
“I touched him, or kissed him, or something, I don’t remember,” Frank began, not looking down at Bob’s blonde head. “He got mad, ‘cause someone might’ve noticed, and… I just want to be normal, y’know? I want to be able to kiss him whenever I want.”
“You’re never going to be normal, Frank,” Bob said sadly. “And neither will he. It’s not his fault.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. Learn to deal.”
“I hate you so much.”
“I can stop fixing you up, y’know.”
“No! I love you, Bob Bryar, please marry me?”
“Shut up.” Bob started wrapping Frank’s hands in gauze.
“I yelled at him,” Frank admitted miserably. “I told him I should quit.”
“You didn’t mean it,” Bob replied comfortingly. “You should apologize, though.”
“Yeah.”
“He loves you, Frank.”
“I know. Christ. I fucking know that.” Frank rubbed his eyes with the back of the hand Bob wasn’t currently bandaging.
“Then go home, say you’re sorry, and tell him you love him,” Bob said simply. He tapped Frank’s knee. “You’re all done. No more tearing your hands open, okay? I’m tired of fixing your fucking hands.”
Frank sighed and tilted forward to kiss the top of Bob’s head. “Thanks, Bob.”
Bob helped him off the table. “Now, get out of here.”
***
Frank spent several hours driving around aimlessly, avoiding Gerard by just not going home. It was past midnight when he finally got back. The house was dark and silent, and Frank went directly to Gerard’s bedroom. He opened and closed the door as quietly as he could, and whispered, “Gerard?”
“Frankie-”
Gerard sat up and reached for the light, but Frank held out his hand to stop him. “No, wait, let me talk.”
“Come here, Frank.”
“No, wait.” Frank cleared his throat and shifted his weight nervously. In all that time alone, he hadn’t come up with something to say. He began with the obvious. “I’m sorry.”
“Frank, come here, I was worried about you,” Gerard whispered.
Frank obediently crawled up onto the bed. Gerard took his hands and stroked his thumbs over the bandages.
“I lost my temper, I’m sorry,” Frank continued. “I was just frustrated, I don’t need anything more from you, Gee, I’m sorry, I love you. I love you and I don’t care that I can’t show it. I mean, I know that I can’t, I understand that. I really do. I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll never leave you, I don’t know why I said that, I’m sorry.”
“Frankie, Frankie, shh,” Gerard murmured. “It’s okay, it’s fine. I know.”
“I love you.”
“I wish I could give you what you want, Frank. I want that, too. I would love to kiss you in plain sight and not worry about anything, but I can’t. I have to worry about things like that. It’s still so dangerous. I’m sorry.”
“No, I get it,” Frank said. “I know you do. I should worry about it too.”
“I love you, Frankie,” Gerard said. “I hate that I can’t-”
“It’s okay, I’ll deal.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Gerard said quietly. “What happened to your hands?”
“I beat that guy up a little harder than necessary. Went to see Bob, he fixed me up.”
“You’re okay, now?” Gerard asked. Frank nodded and shifted into Gerard’s lap. Gerard wrapped him tightly in his arms. “Don’t hurt yourself, Frankie.”
“I’m sorry,” Frank breathed. Gerard was warm and soft around him. He didn’t want to ruin that, not for anything. “I’m sorry, Gee.”
“It’s okay,” Gerard whispered, and kissed Frank’s hair. “We’ll figure it out.”
***
They were all surprised when Mikey announced that Alicia was pregnant. He did it at dinner, right before they all started eating. Frank looked around, jaw hanging open in surprise, and found Gerard, Tony, Mark, and Vinnie in similar states of shock. Alicia was grinning. Mikey was smirking. Smug bastard.
Gerard turned to look at Alicia; he cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. She nodded. Gerard stood up and went around the table to hug her tightly, then moved on to his brother. “Jesus, Mikey, congratulations,” he whispered.
Frank looked down at his plate, beaming. The others offered their congratulations and then Frank stood up and hugged Mikey tight. “About fucking time, right?” he whispered in Mikey’s ear.
“Shut up,” Mikey said, but he was smiling. “One of us had to, and it’s not like Gerard can get you pregnant,” he whispered back. Frank smacked his arm and they both laughed. Gerard hadn’t heard them, but he knew them both well enough to shake his head in mock-annoyance.
He raised his wine glass when they’d all sat down again and said, “Let’s have a toast to my brother and his wife and their kid. Complimenti.”
“Complimenti!” they all echoed.
Frank was near to bursting with happiness in that moment. He looked over at Gerard and grinned. He couldn’t help himself. Gerard reached under the table and squeezed Frank’s hand.
***
After dinner, Mikey caught Gerard’s elbow and whispered, “I need to talk to you.” Gerard glanced at Frank and Mikey shrugged, so Frank followed them into the office.
“Alicia and I want to move to New York,” Mikey said without preamble.
“Mikey-”
“No, Gee, I can’t live here. I can’t raise a kid here.”
“This house is too big for just us,” Gerard said. “We grew up here, Mikey. It’s safe here.”
“Frank got shot in the kitchen!” Mikey replied loudly.
“Jesus, Mikey, stop,” Frank broke in. “Gerard’s right; this is the safest place you could pick to start a family, and it’s not like there’s no extra room.”
“You both know Alicia’s feelings about the business,” Mikey said. “And you know mine. I don’t want to subject a kid to that. We’ve already found a place, an apartment downtown.”
“Mikey…” Gerard breathed.
“It’s not safe,” Frank added. “We don’t have anybody out there; what if-”
“I’m not part of the Family, I’ll be fine.”
Gerard sat down and rubbed his face. “That’s not how it works, Mikey. You’re my brother; you’re always going to be at risk.”
“I’m moving out, Gerard,” Mikey said firmly. “It’s not like I won’t visit all the time, I just… I need-We need our own life. We’re moving out.”
Mikey turned to the door and Frank hurried after him. “Mikey, Mikey,” he whispered. “Give me the address. Let me have some guys check it out, at least. Please.”
Mikey stared at him for a moment, his expression blank, and finally nodded. Frank went back over to Gerard.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” he said, but he wasn’t really sure. He was paranoid as hell, and Gerard was too-they could only think of the worst case scenario.
***
Frank had a few friends in New York check out the neighborhood, the building, the owner, the other tenants, everything. Mikey told him he’d done his research, he’d checked things out himself, but Frank saw no harm in double-checking. Cortez called him up a couple of days later and confirmed that yes, everything looked okay, there were no sociopaths living in the building, nothing out of the ordinary at all. And it was even on the same block as a park where Mikey could take his kid.
Frank breathed a sigh of relief and relayed this information to Gerard, who still looked suspicious, but accepted defeat.
“It’s not like I can stop him leaving, anyway,” he mumbled. Frank rolled his eyes in agreement and called Mikey into the office.
“So, is it safe?” Mikey teased. “Can I live on my own?”
“Yes,” Frank said.
“No,” Gerard said at the same time.
“Wait, what?” Frank asked.
“Yeah, what?” Mikey echoed.
“No, stop, both of you. Listen. Frank checked the place out, and it’s fine, okay? But I don’t want you in New York alone, Mikey, it’s way too dangerous. We don’t have anyone close to you in case of an emergency, and you’re right in the middle of the Bellacinos’ territory.”
“So?”
“We’re on good terms with the Bellacinos,” Frank added. “We could ask them to watch out for him.”
“No. Mikey, I want Tony to go with you.”
“What?” Mikey exploded. “You’re telling me I can’t even live on my own, with my own family? What the fuck, Gerard?”
“Yeah, Gee-”
“No,” Gerard answered calmly. “That’s not what I’m saying. I want Tony in the area. There’s more apartments available in that building. I want him in one of them. You get your own place, Tony gets to move out of here, and I feel better knowing we’ve got somebody close to you.”
“Jesus Christ, Gerard,” Mikey groaned. He ran his hand through his hair.
“You can’t really control what Tony does, Mikes,” Frank murmured. “Gerard’s just going to send him after you anyway, just fucking agree to it already.”
“Mikey, it’s not safe, there’s still a ton of people who want me-and by extension, you-dead. Think of it this way: do you want your wife and child in danger?”
“No, of course not,” Mikey answered grudgingly.
“Tony will be there in case you ever have a situation where you might need him. That’s all. And besides, Tony’s spent most of his adult life trailing after you, it’s not like it’s a new development. He’ll have his own apartment; you and Alicia can have your own space. Everybody’s happy. Deal?”
“Fuck you, Gee,” Mikey said. He and Gerard did their secret brother handshake, which was just like a normal handshake, but done to the tune of a song that Frank didn’t know. “Deal. I’ll go tell Alicia and we can start moving in.”
When Mikey’d left the room, Frank bumped hips with Gerard. “You’re a manipulative genius.”
Gerard smirked.
***
It was over a month later before Mikey and Alicia (and Tony, but Mikey didn’t like to acknowledge that Tony was moving with them) had most of their stuff in the new apartment. They’d gone furniture shopping and appliance shopping and baby shopping, and Frank was honestly getting a little bit bored of shopping with them. Gerard had started to take over for him, picking out sheets and tablecloths and curtains as a way to bond with his sister-in-law.
He and Bob were actually out shopping with her now, Bob tagging along to watch out for her. Alicia had, unsurprisingly, become smitten with Bob the first time she went in for an appointment with him. Frank could understand that; Bob was excellent at making people feel comfortable, when he wanted to be. Tony had volunteered to escort them, saying he needed to buy a toaster for his new place.
Frank still hadn’t seen Mikey’s apartment in person. He and Mikey sat in the kitchen wrapping newspaper around picture frames and CD cases and fitting them neatly into boxes, and Frank asked, “This is the last batch, right?”
“Should be,” Mikey replied. “But it’s not like I won’t be able to come back in case we leave something.”
“Weekly dinners, right?”
Mikey nodded and sighed like he was reciting his history notes. “I will try to come over at least once a week, and I will keep you updated on the baby, and I will call you immediately when Alicia goes into labor.”
Frank nodded, satisfied with Mikey’s answer. “Good. I swear we won’t corrupt your kid.”
“Good.”
“Alright, I’m done,” Frank said. Mikey closed the lid on both boxes and taped over them. “Want me to come with you? I haven’t seen the new place, yet. You can show me around. Give me the grand tour.”
Mikey smiled. “Nothing’s unpacked yet, y’know. It’s a mess.”
“You think I care? C’mon, let’s go.”
***
Mikey reached the door first and kicked it with a loud groan. Frank, standing behind him, nudged Mikey and said, “Open it, c’mon. And next time, find an apartment with a working elevator, what the fuck.”
“It’s fucking locked,” Mikey replied.
“Here, hold on.” Frank put the box he was carrying on top of Mikey’s small stack. “Which pocket?” he asked, ignoring Mikey’s groan at the sudden additional weight.
“Ugh, front left,” Mikey said, then cocked his hips to the side to give Frank easier access.
Frank dug around in Mikey’s pocket for the keys, his free hand resting at the small of Mikey’s back to hold him steady. “Fucking tight pants,” he muttered.
“I’m gonna tell my brother you were feeling me up,” Mikey teased. “Hurry up, dude.”
Finally, Frank pulled out the key ring and fumbled the correct one into the lock. The door opened to the inside and stopped short. “Shit,” Frank said. “Hold on, there’s a box blocking…” Frank poked his head inside; Mikey had spent the last three days bringing in boxes and furniture and the entryway was crowded with junk, boxes stacked haphazardly on top of each other. Frank wiggled his body around the door and called, “Hold on, let me clear a path. Jesus, Mikey, how much junk do you and Alicia need?”
“Come on,” Mikey shouted back. “These are getting heavy, dude.”
Frank chuckled and started shoving boxes out of the way. When he had the entrance mostly cleared, he straightened up and heard a loud bang, and all of the sudden he couldn’t catch his breath. Frank gasped and fell to his knees, choking on his next inhale.
“Frank?” Mikey yelled. “Frank?” Frank heard boxes fall to the floor, the sound of glass breaking. He hoped it wasn’t Alicia’s good china, the set she inherited from her grandmother. Alicia would be pissed. Mikey opened the door and screamed his name, even though he was only right there.
“Oh god, oh god, Frank, Jesus, oh my god,” Mikey said frantically, and that’s when the bang finally registered in Frank’s mind. Gunshot. Oh fuck, not again. Mikey bent over him, still babbling, and there was blood on his hands.
“Get down, get down,” Frank hissed. It hurt to talk, felt like his throat was on fire. “Mikey-”
“Oh god, Frankie.” Mikey’s bloody hands fumbled with his cell phone and tears were running in thick streams down Mikey’s face. He put one hand back on Frank’s chest and pressed down. Frank hoped Mikey had the sense to stay behind the short stack of boxes.
“It’s Mikey,” he said quickly into the phone, “I need help, please-Oh fuck, Gerard’s going to kill me-Help, please, Frank’s been shot-Our apartment, oh Jesus Christ-Get Gerard and Bob here, please hurry, fuck.” He dropped the phone and crouched over Frank again, now with both hands pressing hard on his chest.
Beyond the blood pounding in his ears, Frank could suddenly hear people moving around in the apartment. He grabbed Mikey’s arm, tried to reach for his gun, but it hurt to twist that way and Mikey was still a lead weight on top of him. Frank needed to shoot those guys, fucking kill them; Mikey was in danger. Frank reached again for his gun but the motion turned into a flailing sort of muscle spasm. “Oh shit, Mikey,” Frank muttered. “Help me, I need to-”
Mikey nodded like he understood, like he wasn’t completely freaked out, and grabbed Frank’s gun. “Where are they, Frankie?”
“I think-I think left. Gimme-”
Mikey shushed him and knelt up to look over the boxes shielding them. He held the gun steady, fired four shots, and looked around wildly for any other intruders. Frank heard two cut-off cries, two bodies falling to the floor. Mikey let the gun fall from his hands.
“Damn, Mikey,” Frank said proudly.
“Two shots each,” Mikey replied, cracking a smile. “Just because I don’t like to use guns doesn’t mean I don’t know how. I learned same as you and Gee.”
Frank laughed; it turned quickly into a low moan from the pain, and he closed his eyes tight. “Fuck, Mikey,” he panted.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Frankie, just hold on, okay? Bob and Gee are gonna be here soon. Just hold on, Frankie, it’s okay,” Mikey said breathlessly. There was blood all over his arms up to his elbows.
Bob appeared at the door over Mikey’s shoulder some time later, Gerard right on his heels. They both fell to their knees and skidded to a halt around Frank. Bob took Mikey’s place, his hands pushing and probing at Frank’s chest, and Gerard picked up Frank’s hand and held it tightly in both of his.
“He went in and they shot him,” Mikey explained in a rushed voice, “and I tried to put pressure on or whatever, but I don’t know-”
“You did good, Mikes,” Bob said quietly, staring intently down at Frank.
“Mikey got ‘em,” Frank added. “He shot ‘em. He was good.” He smiled briefly and gasped again because it hurt.
“Oh, Frankie,” Gerard sighed. He squeezed Frank’s hand.
The pain didn’t feel as bad now. It didn’t hurt so much to talk. So Frank talked. “I’m really kinda over being shot, Gee,” he said, twisting his lips into what he hoped resembled a grin. He might’ve missed the mark, though, because Gerard shook his head and started crying.
“Me too, Frankie. Let’s not do this again, okay?”
“Told you I’d fuckin’ die for you, Gee.”
“You’re not-”
“I need to tell you-”
“Frankie, you’re not gonna die, you’re-”
“Let him talk,” Bob broke in quietly. He touched Gerard’s wrist and Gerard fell silent, disbelief smoothing the worry lines on his forehead. Bob’s face was tense. He brushed Frank’s sweaty hair off his forehead and left his hand on Frank’s face for a moment, cupping Frank’s cheek. He cleared his throat and whispered, “I’m sorry,” then replaced his hand on Frank’s chest with Gerard’s. Then he and Mikey both retreated a few feet to give them some privacy. Frank was almost sad to see them go.
Gerard was crying freely now, one hand tight around Frank’s and the other clutching at Frank’s blood-stained t-shirt. “No, Frankie, please don’t-”
“I need to tell you,” Frank said again, “need to say... thank you-”
“Frank, what-” Gerard shook his head.
“I’m sorry I was such an asshole,” Frank continued. “‘Cause I really love you a lot, Gerard. Fuck. Oh god, Gee-”
“Frankie, Frank, I love you, don’t leave me, please-”
“I’m fuckin’ dyin’, Gerard,” Frank breathed. The pain was back: his chest felt like it was burning, like there were actual flames licking the inside of his skin, and his toes curled as he tried to squirm away from them. His hands flexed and he yanked at Gerard’s sleeve. The flames were crawling up inside him, it was unbearable. Frank closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth.
“I’m sorry, Frankie, I’m so sorry,” Gerard was saying, over and over again. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
It was getting hard to breathe through the pain. Frank tasted blood on his tongue. He shook his head violently, though it made him dizzy. “No, Gee, don’t-Don’t do that, don’t be-Augh-Don’t be guilty, please-”
“Frank, you fucking took a bullet for me. Twice. Of course I’m-”
“I would fucking do it again, too,” Frank growled. Another flash of pain hit, knocking the breath from Frank’s lungs. He couldn’t feel his feet.
“Oh god, Frank. Frank. Please don’t leave me,” Gerard whispered desperately.
“Never-Never want to hurt you, Gee, I’m sorry-”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Please, Frankie...”
“It’s okay,” Frank gasped. “It’s okay, I’m happy.”
“I never did anything right by you. I should’ve-”
“You made me happy.” Frank became vaguely aware of the tears sliding down his own cheeks. He could distinguish them from the rivulets of blood moving slower and stickier across his skin. His throat felt clogged with slime and he coughed, but it didn’t relieve the pressure. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe.
Gerard wiped his eyes with his sleeve and managed to leave smears of blood on his face anyway. He didn’t put his hand back on Frank’s chest; it wasn’t going to help at this point, they both knew that. Instead, he stroked Frank’s hair, much like Bob had done, and traced his fingers over Frank’s open lips. Besides the blood on them, they were dry and cracking. Frank flicked his tongue out to moisten them but the sharp taste of blood made him want to gag.
“Gerard. Gerard.” Frank closed his eyes for a long moment, opened them again slowly. He was dizzy, even though he wasn’t moving. Gerard sucked in a shaky breath and held it. “You made me happy,” Frank repeated. “I love you so much.”
Gerard bent over and kissed Frank’s lips. Frank couldn’t even feel anything beyond a slight pressure on his mouth and he wanted to cry. He went through the motions of returning the kiss, imagining the best kiss they’d ever shared. When Gerard finally pulled away, Frank gasped for air. He closed his eyes again, concentrated on breathing. He heard Gerard sobbing above him.
“Oh god, I love you,” he cried, “I love you.” Gerard kissed his forehead, a soft brush of lips that Frank recognized. He still had to fill in the blanks of what it should feel like. He should feel the texture, the warmth of Gerard’s lips, the moist air on his skin as Gerard breathed. “Frankie, please,” Gerard cried. “Hold my hand, Frankie, please.”
Frank thought he was holding Gerard’s hand. There was still the familiar, unrelenting pressure that would turn into an ache if Gerard didn’t stop squeezing and grinding the bones of his hand together. He could still distinguish the weight of Gerard leaning over him, resting his forehead on Frank’s.
“Frankie, hold my hand, please, Frankie, please, please, please,” Gerard sobbed. Frank could hear the desperation in his voice now. He wanted to open his eyes but they felt glued shut. “Please, Frankie, oh god, please, please...”
Frank couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs and he supposed it was useless to work so hard at it. He concentrated instead on doing what Gerard asked, on closing his unresponsive fingers around Gerard’s.
“Oh god, Frank, please, please, please don’t leave me, please, oh god, please,” Gerard was saying. Frank could barely distinguish the words beneath the sobbing. “Please, please... Frankie...”
Frank summoned the energy to force his hand to move. His fingers twitched and curled, and Frank’s lips quirked up into a slight smile. He pretended he could feel Gerard’s hand in his, that the warmth of Gerard’s body overwhelmed the pain that he couldn’t even really pinpoint anymore. He pretended he could feel Gerard respond and kiss his bleeding lips.
He pretended he could feel anything at all.
fin.