Sing for me, Pretty. [Dark Frerard]

Discussion in 'Completed Fan Fictions' started by Miz Erie, Oct 9, 2012.

  1. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member


    Sing for me, Pretty.

    Rating: 18+ (For Language, Adult [Graphic/Sexual] Content, Rape, Physical Abuse)

    Genre: Horror, Slash

    Characters: Frank Iero, Gerard Way

    Pairing: Frank/Gerard (This is not a consensual relationship.)

    This story was inspired by the photo shoot in the collage above.

    Summary: Frank Iero is a known name in the rock music scene. He was the frontman for the hugely successful Pencey Prep. When Pencey Prep split, Frank spent his time and energy with his label, Skeleton Crew. Through his label, he was introduced to LeATHERMOUTH, and the band offered him the position of frontman for them. With this band, Frank has propelled himself to superstardom. But with superstardom comes risks and consequences. One of those risks is psycho stalker fans. (Note: This story is part AU, part cannon. In this story, My Chemical Romance never happened; it didn’t even almost happen.)

    GRAPHIC WARNING: This story contains rape, physical abuse, torture, and forced drug use. If you don't like any of these subjects, DO NOT read this story! I'm giving fair warning!

    Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with My Chemical Romance, LeATHERMOUTH, Pencey Prep, or the guys that make up any of these bands. No part of this is true; it is purely a fictional story. Any part of this story that resembles real life is only coincidental. No parts of this story may be reproduced or used without permission.

    Chapter Index:
    Prologue - Page 1
    Day 1 - Page 1
    Day 2 - Page 2
    Day 3 - Page 3
    Day 4 - Page 3
    Day 5 - Page 3-4
    Day 6 - Page 4
    Day 7 - Page 4
    Day 8 - Page 5
    Day 9 - Page 5
    Epilogue - Page 6
  2. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member


    It was all over the news. “Lead Vocalist for Popular Hardcore Band Missing.” When reading the actual articles or listening to the news stories, it was said more specifically that Frank Iero of LeATHERMOUTH, and formerly of rock band Pencey Prep, had been missing since a few hours after their last show. After their set, the band was heading out to celebrate. Iero had stayed behind to wrap up some business and was supposed to meet the rest of the band members at a local pub. Iero never showed. James Dewees, the band’s drummer, has been at the forefront of the search efforts and has made several public pleas for anyone with information on the missing Iero to come forward.

    Iero’s car was found in the venue’s parking lot still locked, and his belonging were left untouched in the small room the band had been using as a green room. Among his belongings were Iero’s wallet and car keys, indicating this was not a robbery attempt. Police had questioned the venue’s staff, and forensic teams combed the place. However, no trace of what had happened to Iero turned up during the investigation.

    It wasn’t until a phone call into the city’s tip line was received today that police got their first lead. That lead led police…


    I might need to explain this just a little. This is the first half of a news story. The second half of the news story is the epilogue. The chapters are not written in this style.

    This started out as a oneshot, and it sort of morphed into a chaptered fic quickly. Since I have been asked by several people multiple times to write a chaptered fic like my oneshots, I embraced the idea of turning it into a chaptered fic. It's not going to be very long, though, maybe ten chapters or so.

    Hopefully this story will find some readers here. Please let me know what you think!!

    Hugs and loves!
  3. TheLivingDead

    TheLivingDead Member sounds quite interesting if I do say so myself. I absolutely love that it's going to be dark! I've been dreaming of this day to happen! I really like how the prologue is set up, you never do things quite like I expect you to!
  4. Wow, this really isn't your normal fic is it? The start was like a comic, you know? It's hard to explain, but I hope you understand what I mean.

    I'm really interested in how you're going to pull this all together in only 10 or so chapters. Is this going to be an 'update as you finish them' or 'update on a particular day' kind of basis? Cause I want to read more!
  5. Chemical 30

    Chemical 30 Just 'That' Girl

    This sounds really great :)
    Can't wait to read more
  6. PlanetaryGoGo

    PlanetaryGoGo Media Division

    Well, it sure got me. Not only cause I'm beta-reading it. But cause it's good. Carry on, carry on. :)
  7. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member

    @Jessica, yeah, I've sort of been waiting for the day I wrote a dark chaptered fic, too! I'm curious as to how you expected me to do it...

    @Amy, I suppose it's not, but I hadn't really thought of that. And I really don't understand the comic thing myself. The chapters are going to be rather long, one chapter per day he's held captive, so that's how it's going to be pulled together so quickly. It might end up being more than ten, but for now that's what I'm thinking. And it will be a "post as I write" story; I'm not writing chapters in advance on this one.

    @Chemical 30, Thanks! I hope you'll continue to read and comment!

    Well, here goes...

    Day 1

    Frank awakes in unfamiliar surroundings. His head is throbbing like his brain is trying to explode out of his skull. He doesn’t remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers is telling his bandmates he would meet them shortly. He groans as he rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes. He blinks rapidly a few times and then allows his gaze to scan the room.

    There’s not much light in the room, only what little sunlight is coming through a small window near the ceiling. There are two doors on one wall, both of them closed. The walls are practically wallpapered in drawings. More drawings are stacked haphazardly on a desk cluttered with art supplies and strewn among the clothing and comic books on the floor. Directly in front of him is an unmade bed; the sheets are a mix-match of superheroes. A nightstand sits beside it with a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray. A smoke sounds good to Frank, so he stands and walks to get one.

    The only thing that seems out of place in what is obviously an artist’s bedroom is this old refrigerator. Frank lights one of the cigarettes and takes a long draw off of it as he curiously turns towards the fridge. It’s an older model, not very big. The cream colored enamel finish has cracked away in some places allowing rust to grow. Frank inhales the chemical laced smoke again and then cocks his head to the side as he continues looking at the odd appliance. He realizes it’s not even running and wonders if it would even run anymore. He swings around on the ball of his foot to head towards the doors to figure out which one is the way out, bringing the cigarette up to his lips.

    “You’re going to ruin your voice with that awful habit,” comes a small voice from the corner. Frank drops the lit cigarette as he jerks around in shock towards the voice. In a corner sits a dark silhouette. Frank wonders how he didn’t notice the person before and how long he had been sitting in the corner just watching him. The man speaks again. “You might want to pick that up before it starts a fire in here. There’s no way out, and I’d hate to see you burn alive.”

    Frank bends down to retrieve the cigarette before the words spoken actually process in his brain. There’s no way out… Fear overtakes Frank, and his heart begins banging wildly in his chest. He tries to sound calm as he says, “There’s two doors right here.”

    “Yes, but one is only a bathroom with no windows, and the other I have locked. You can’t get out, Frankie.” Frank’s breath catches as he hears his name, his nickname, called by the unfamiliar voice. He tries to calm himself by telling himself that lots of people know his name, an entire fanbase of unfamiliar people. The dark figure rises from his place on the floor. He takes a few steps forward and stops. Still mostly draped in shadows, Frank can only make out a couple of the man’s features: long, black, stringy hair with piercing eyes looking out through it. He can see the shadows of the man’s lips move as he begins to speak again.

    “I have you all to myself now, Frankie. No other fans to take your attention away. No other band members to keep you safe. Just you and me. And time.” Frank rushes to one of the doors and pulls it open. Past the door frame is a simple bathroom, cluttered just like the bedroom. He hears the man laugh behind him, spurring him to move more quickly to the other door. He throws his body weight into pulling the door open, but it doesn’t budge from its frame. Frank looks at the door. He spots a large, silver padlock at the top of the corner of it.

    “This isn’t funny. And my friends will come looking for me.” The man steps closer to Frank. Frank instinctively presses his back against the door, his palms and fingers splayed out against the wooden surface beside his hips. The man stops just outside of an arm’s length away from him. Frank notices the man’s pale complexion is marked by several red scratches.

    “I agree, Frankie; this isn’t funny at all. In fact, I’m quite serious. And as for your friends, I’m sure they’ll look for you. They just won’t find you.” A malevolent half grin plays on the man’s lips.

    “Who… who are you?” Frank really doesn’t care what the man’s name is; it’s only a test. Frank figures if the man won’t share his name then he still stands a chance of making it out of here alive. But if the man gives his name up quickly, does that mean chances are high he won’t survive?

    “Where are my manners? I’m Gerard… Gerard Way.” Frank gasps, knowing his chances of living have just been cut down tremendously. But also because that name rings alarm bells in his head. He has received a letter from a “Gerard Way” every week for the last two years, all of them sent to where he was staying, be it a hotel, his home, the studio, or wherever. Places that common fans wouldn’t know he was at. Gerard steps two paces closer, his stench reaching Frank’s senses. Frank crushes his eyes shut and tries to press himself closer to the door than is physically possible, pressing the side of his face against it as well.

    “Now, now, Frankie. There’s no reason to be scared of me yet.” Frank shudders at the sensation of cold fingertips brushing down his exposed cheek. At the same time, he feels the butt of the now burnt out cigarette that is miraculously still tucked between his fingers pulled away from his grip on it. The rancid smell of body odor fades, and Frank forces his eyes open to look around. The man—Gerard—is placing the spent cigarette in an ashtray.

    Frank allows himself to relax just a bit with the other man across the room from him. “What do you want from me?” Gerard raises his gaze to Frank’s, a look that Frank can only identify as lust on his face. Frank prays to all the gods he doesn’t believe in that he read the man’s expression wrong.

    “I just want you to sing for me… for now.” Frank doesn’t mind that so much until he had said “for now.” Obviously this Gerard wants more from him than he is saying aloud. Things Frank’s mind doesn’t want to entertain.

    “If I sing for you, will you let me go?” Frank asks in a shaky voice.

    “I’m going to set you free eventually, Pretty. You’re way to special to be kept… in this world.” Frank doesn’t like the way Gerard worded that statement. And he definitely doesn’t like being called “Pretty” as a pet name by this man. But his logic tells him it is probably better to go along with it for now.

    “What do you want me to sing?”

    “How about ‘Yesterday’? It seems fitting somehow.” Gerard steps back closer to Frank, his eyes glistening at the prospect of having the Frank Iero sing to him privately. Frank is still touching the door with his back. Gerard stops about seven feet away from Frank and settles himself down on the floor atop the mess.

    Frank looks at Gerard looking up at him expectantly. He opens his mouth, trying desperately to remember all the lyrics to the Pencey Prep song he hasn’t sang in years.

    I think of running away
    I can't keep running away
    Can't keep feeling the same
    I can't keep taking the blame
    I wanna run with you
    I don't care what we do,
    Gotta get out of this place,
    Because it feels like yesterday
    Day, day, day oh oh oh

    Gerard stands from the floor and walks into Frank’s personal space. His eyes keep tracing Frank’s tattoos in between watching Frank’s lips as the lyrics move between them. Frank can feel panic churning his stomach, but he presses on.

    There we go
    Can't be wrong
    'Cause it feels like yesterday
    I can't be wrong
    I’m… I’m…

    “I’m reliving yesterday,” Gerard breathes to Frank like the words are permanently etched into his memory. His hand settles over Frank’s breast bone. Frank can feel the coolness of Gerard’s skin through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. When he doesn’t pick back up singing, Gerard makes eye contact. “What’s wrong, Pretty?”

    “I-I don’t remember the rest. I haven’t sang that in yea—” Frank doesn’t even see it coming, but Gerard’s cold hand collides hard with Frank’s face. Frank stumbles sideways, collapsing to the floor. He grabs the side of his mouth, feeling the warm wet of his blood from where the punch has split his lip. He looks up at Gerard. Gerard is standing over him, his eyes barely visible through his narrowed eyelids and his mouth drawn tight in fury. Frank cowers on the floor. Gerard kneels down onto one knee beside Frank. He fists Frank t-shirt and pulls him up from the floor until Frank’s face is nearly touching his.

    “When I say sing, you sing,” he growls from behind clenched teeth.

    Frank’s voice raises nearly an octave in fright, “B-but I don’t remember the words! It’s been YEARS!” Frank can feel Gerard’s heavy breathing blowing on his face.

    “Let’s help you remember then, Frankie,” Gerard states, sounding more like a threat than an offer of real help to Frank. Gerard drags Frank to his feet and throws him onto his bed. Before Frank can even try to get away from him, Gerard is binding Frank’s wrists together tightly with tape. Gerard tosses the tape aside and pins Frank’s hands to Frank’s stomach with his knee, leaning most of his body weight onto that knee Frank’s certain. Gerard grabs a white cloth and tries to gag Frank with it. Frank clenches his mouth shut and shifts his face as far away from Gerard as his body allows. “Don’t make me hit you again already, Frankie.”

    Frank isn’t going to give in, though. Instead, he tries to wriggle his body away a little more. He gets three quick, hard blows to the face, immediately knocking his defenses down for a moment. He’s not fast enough to clench his jaw again, and Gerard has the gag in his mouth and tying it painfully behind Frank’s head. Gerard grabs Frank’s arms and jerks him up off the bed. Frank realizes he is being drug towards the small refrigerator. He kicks his feet, fighting what he is sure is about to happen. Gerard slams Frank’s head into the fridge door, successfully ending Frank’s useless struggle. Frank’s head hangs listlessly as Gerard lifts him off the floor and folds his body up into the small appliance. Frank raises his head, pleading with his eyes for Gerard to not do this.

    “You can have a little time out in here to remember the lyrics. When you remember them, let me know, and I’ll get you out.” Gerard begins to close the door but quickly pulls it open again. “Don’t forget. Refrigerators are air tight, so you have very limited time in here, Pretty.” Gerard smiles at Frank in such a sweet way that is makes Frank’s stomach churn. The door is slammed shut, and Frank is left in pitch black and unable to move hardly at all. He can hear metal on metal sounds and can only assume he’s being padlocked into the archaic appliance.

    Frank closes his eyes and reopens them a few times, unable to tell the difference in his vision between the two. He starts to go over and over the song in his head, reciting the lyrics he can remember as much as he can around the cloth between his lips and teeth.

    Gerard stands close to the refrigerator and smirks to himself as he listens to the sounds of Frank’s muffled voice coming from inside. He has Frank Iero in his room. He has Frank Iero at his disposal. He simply just has Frank Iero. Gerard steps away and picks up a drawing pad and pencil. He settles into the bed and begins drawing the fear he had seen in Frank’s eyes.

    For some time, he drags the graphite across the paper, smudges it here and there, and erases his mistakes, which happens to be most of what he draws. He knows he needs a nap; he spent most of the night last night watching for Frank to awaken. He tosses the pad and pencil onto his art desk and strides over to the fridge. He can still hear Frank steadily mumbling to himself. He places his hand on the cold metal door in a loving gesture, knowing Frank is oblivious to it. He crosses back over to his bed and snuggles up with his pillow for some much needed rest.

    Frank can feel his heart pumping faster as the oxygen in the small, enclosed space dwindles down. He becomes aware that he is panting for oxygen his lungs aren’t going to find. He gives up trying to recall the last of the few words of “Yesterday” that are eluding him. He once thought he was afraid of dying, but here in this blackness, he tries to find some peace with what he has done with his life. There are still things he wanted to do, things he wanted to experience. As his minds plays through that list, Frank realizes that he has given up already; he is saying his goodbyes to world. As he pants harder, gasping for fresh air instead of his own exhaled breath, he decides this is not how he’s going to die, not in a box in a psycho’s bedroom. He begins violently struggling against the constraints of his prison. If he’s going to die, he’s going to die fighting!

    Gerard awakes to the sounds of Frank’s violent movements and muffled screaming. He stretches his body awake and runs his hand through his greasy hair to push it back out of his face. He thinks it’s about time for another shower, possibly a shower with his beloved rock star. He throws his legs over the side of the bed and listens for the sound he's waiting for. Frank continues screaming. Gerard is unable to make out the words he’s screaming, though. He’s actually surprised Frank is still conscious in there.

    Frank violently thrashes his body around again, causing the entire appliance to rock slightly in its place. Gerard moves to steady it. He can hear Frank whimper out a sob, and then he hears the soft thud of Frank’s head landing on the inside of the refrigerator. Gerard retrieves the key to the padlock from his lockbox, where he keeps all his keys except the key to the lockbox itself; that key stays in Gerard’s pants pocket. He stands for a few moments listening to make sure Frank is still quiet. After hearing no more sounds coming from inside, Gerard pops the lock open and slowly opens the door.

    Frank’s limp body slumps down even further with the added space at his knees and feet. Gerard can see his chest rising and falling with his quick breathing. He knows it won’t take Frank’s body long to replenish the oxygen in his system and Frank to regain consciousness. He quickly wraps his arms around Frank’s sweat drenched torso and carries him over to the bed. He gets Frank settled into the bed, adjusting the pillows to make Frank more comfortable, and takes the gag out of Frank’s mouth. Gerard slides his body over top of Frank’s, making sure to keep his upper body propped up on his arms.

    Frank slowly comes to, his head feeling light and tingly from the sudden oxygen rush to his brain. Instinctively he draws in a deep breath, relishing in the relief he feels as his lungs fill with oxygen and not carbon dioxide. As he regains more awareness, he can feel someone petting his short hair. He forces his eyes open to look at the person, hoping it was all just a bad nightmare. Gerard is smiling down at him, telling Frank it is real.

    Gerard continues to pet Frank’s head as he cocks his head sideways just a bit. “Hi, Pretty. Welcome back.” Gerard shifts just slightly, drawing Frank’s attention to the fact that Gerard is laying on top of him. He pushes slightly against Gerard’s chest with his still bound hands lying between their chests.

    “What’re yo—what are you doing?” Frank manages to ask. He focuses on not moving his hips as to not give this man any wrong ideas.

    “No, it’s not time for that yet, Pretty. I just wanted to be close to you is all.” Even though part of him knows the answer, the part of him that is denying it wants to know what “that” is, but he’s not given the chance to think about it. “Does your head hurt now, Frankie? I can get you something to help if it does.”

    Frank nods his head slightly. “Yes, please.” Frank really just wants the body—the MALE body—to get off top of his. Gerard walks towards the bathroom and disappears inside. For a moment, Frank thinks about trying to get out of the bed and away, but he knows the only way out is solidly shut. He sighs softly to himself as he begins to acknowledge that he’s going to have to live through this as best he can.

    Gerard comes back with a couple of white pills and a bottle of cold water. Frank hesitates at taking the two unmarked pills. God knows what they are, but this guy doesn’t seem to want him dead—just yet—or he would have just left him the refrigerator to suffocate. Frank takes the pills in one hand and the bottle of water in the other. Since his hands are still bound, it’s awkward taking the pills, but the cold water feels amazing in Frank’s mouth and throat. Frank drinks the whole bottle in one turning up of it.

    “I’ll give you more, Frankie. You don’t have to horde it,” Gerard states softly as he snuggles back close to Frank’s side and begins petting his head again. Frank just nods. “Tell me about your tattoos, Pretty.” Frank thinks this man sounds a little too much like the teenage fangirls that wait hours for him to come out after shows, something that scares him considering this is one, a man, and two, a man who is definitely older than Frank.

    The best way to get out of this is to play along, his inner voice tells him. “Which one?” Gerard’s fingertips ghost over the skin on Frank’s arm as the man makes his decision.

    “Tell me about these portraits here,” Gerard says as his palm spreads over Frank’s right forearm.

    “Those are my grandmothers, Angelina and Lillian. Angelina was my mother’s mother, and Lillian was my father’s mother. I love them both dearly.” Frank sighs softly as he looks down at his tattoo. But his breath quickly catches when Gerard gives away just how much he knows already.

    “Kat Von D did a great job on them. I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother, Lillian, though.” His grandmother’s passing had not been too long ago and has yet to become common knowledge in the fanbase. But Frank just remains silent as Gerard’s fingertips begin grazing over each of his tattoos again. “What about this one, Pretty? What’s the story behind the bloody tooth inside your arm here?”

    Frank wants to see just how much this guy knows, so he lies. “It was a bet gone wrong. I ended up getting that as a prank by one of my friends.” Gerard’s expression quickly grows angry, and Frank is afraid of being hit again. Or worse, shoved back into the decrepit refrigerator to die. He starts to confess to his lie when Gerard seems to calm himself and gives Frank what he wants.

    “No, you got that after you got your wisdom teeth pulled and the idiot doing it ruptured your sinuses. You had a hard time getting them to stop bleeding out of your nose, and it all ended up infected. You missed all the touring in Japan and Australia because of it. Tell me I’m wrong, Pretty.” There is a hint of a challenge in his voice. A challenge Frank isn’t stupid enough to take.

    “You’re right. It’s just not my favorite story.” Gerard seems thoughtful for a moment.

    “I guess I can understand that. But all your ink has some meaning, Pretty. You don’t have anything on your body that was done just because.” Frank can’t help but wonder what else this man knows about him.

    (UGH!! I hate that 20,000 character limit!! This is continued in the next post...)
  8. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member

    (...continued from above. The chapter was too long. :/ )

    “I need to go to the bathroom.” Frank feels like a child having to ask permission to take a piss.

    “You can’t get up. If you’d have said something earlier, I’d have let you go, but it’s too late now.”

    “Too late?” Frank repeats.

    “Those pills have really started to kick in, and you won’t have the balance or coordination to walk there.” Frank takes account of his mental status. Now that he has been made aware of it, he can feel the drugs poisoning his mind and body, but he’s not sure how he didn’t notice before; the effects are staggering. “Here. You can piss in this,” Gerard says as he hands Frank a small, metal bucket. “I’ll help you sit up. And stay sitting up.”

    Gerard doesn’t wait for Frank’s permission, pulling him into an upright position on the edge of the bed. Frank’s head immediately begins swimming and spinning. Frank can feel his pants being undone and cool fingers on his dick. “Frankie, you can go now.”

    “I can’t. I have to lay back down.” Frank sways sideways, his bound hands reaching out for some sort of support. Frank feels cold fingers on his cheek, and he swears there is some real compassion in Gerard’s voice this time.

    “Pretty, I’ll get you back down in just a minute. But I don’t want you to piss yourself while you’re out. Please. Just go.” There is a pause in Gerard’s talking, and Frank tries to remember if he even knows how to take a piss. “Good boy,” Gerard whispers.

    Frank realizes he has fallen over and leaned his head against Gerard’s chest. It’s so warm and comfortable that he could go to sleep right here. He can tell he’s being shifted again. Frank hears water running and movement of some sort. A warm body presses against his, and Frank tries to lean into the warmth. He hears a kind voice saying something about taking something off his wrists, but he doesn’t know who is talking or what they are talking about.

    Gerard watches Frank slip off into oblivion. He knows Frank will be unable to wake for at least the next six hours. He presses his lips to Frank’s in an almost chaste fashion and whispers “Good night, Pretty,” before settling in against his god for some sleep himself.


    Um, so yeah... I'm not going to say too much because I'm not sure what to say. The only thing I can think of is that this is fairly light for what I have in mind for later chapters; the chapters are going to get progressively worse.

    If you have an questions, feel free to ask them. I would really LOVE to know what you thought, though!

    Hugs and loves!
  9. ColorGuardian

    ColorGuardian New Member

    Holy crap this is awesome! Im so glad your writing another story and this sounds like it will be really good. ill be happily waiting for another post! :^_^:
  10. Chemical 30

    Chemical 30 Just 'That' Girl

    Wow Gerard is crazy! Of course you probably intended for that haha
    Very interesting story though on the edge of my seat for more!
  11. TheLivingDead

    TheLivingDead Member

    Honestly, I didn't know what kind of dark fic you would end up doing. But, I definitely didn't think it would ever have Frank bound and gagged in a fridge.

    The thing I love the most (besides psycho Gerard) is that you can see into both of their minds. It starts out more Frank oriented and ends with Gerard's thoughts. I always wonder what the psychos are thinking. It kind of fascinates me as to what in their mind made them think that the things they are doing are alright, or that they'll get away with it, or whatever.

    Can't wait to see how this can get darker. I know it's possible, but I wonder which direction you'll take. Probably one different from any direction I can even imagine.
  12. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member

    Okay, that make me snort, I laughed so hard!! Yeah, that sort of surprised me, too!! I never thought I'd have Gerard bind, gag, and shove Frank into a refrigerator either! But, hey, I've got to work on my reputation of being able to write really dark and creepy shit, right? Hahaha!
  13. adrenaline 2019

    adrenaline 2019 New Member

    This is an amazing story, love it, I can't wait for the next update, your writing is awesome :)
  14. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member

    @ColorGuardian- Thank you! I normally try not to have two stories going at once, but I've done once it before sucessfully. And thak you for your patience; I will be updating this story as I write it, so there might be times the wait is longer than a week for a new chapter.

    @Chemical 30- Yes, Gerard is rather crazy! Hahaha. I did intend him to be that way. I hope I can keep you on the edge of your seat until the end!

    @Jessica- This is actually my preferred POV. I also wrote YGFIL in this sort of perspective, switching between Frank and Gerard in third person. I still think you give me more credit than I'm due, but I'll try to take this some direction I doubt you'll see coming. (I honestly think you'll be surprised by Gerard when you figure out what he's thinking...)

    @adrenaline 2019- Thank you! I hope you'll continue to read this through to completion and commenting!

    So, YEY that it only took me two days for an update! But with these chapters being so long, I doubt the chapters will keep coming this fast! These 3-, 4-, and 5,000 word chapters take a lot of time to complete and get ready for posting! But without further ado, here's the next one... (It's nearly 4,700 words, but I split it where there was a nice break point.)

    Day 2

    Gerard checks on Frank to make sure he’s still breathing. Once satisfied, Gerard grabs his wallet and his keys from the lockbox. He places a kiss on Frank’s forehead before heading towards the door that leads to the stairs out of here. He knows Frank is still well under the effects of the drugs he gave him and still won’t wake for another couple of hours. He figures he can use this time to get them some decent breakfast, even though it’s still in the early hours of morning.

    After making sure the lock is secure on the outside of his bedroom door, it doesn’t take Gerard long to drive to the diner he had called his order into from upstairs earlier, the only phone in the house. He pays the cashier and collects the two breakfast plates. On the way back to the house, Gerard makes a detour to a local coffee shop he knows is open all hours of the night. He orders two black coffees, as he knows this is all Frank will drink. With the completion of their breakfast being obtained, Gerard heads back towards his house, thoughts of Frank on his mind as always.

    He carries it all down the stairs, unlocks the padlock, and sets everything on his desk. He checks on Frank again, who is unmoved from when Gerard left. Gerard climbs the stairs again, leaving the door open for the brief moment he is gone. He crosses his living room and collects the last thing he needs before settling into the room for the day with Frank. Once back in his bedroom, Gerard secures the door again and slides the specially retrieved item under the bed before putting all his keys except the one back in the lockbox and sliding the lockbox into the hidden space in the wall under his bed.

    For a while, Gerard sits on the side of the bed just watching Frank sleep. He can’t believe how easy it was to simply steal Frank from the world. He had attended the last few shows they had played in the area and just patiently waited for the right opportunity. And that opportunity presented itself two nights ago. He saw Frank at the door to the office of the club. He waited for Frank to walk away and then approached him. He knew Frank would never turn down a drink with a fan, so Gerard held out a beer he had drugged in Frank’s direction while complimenting him on a great set that night. Frank had accepted the words and alcohol gracefully and asked him if he played. Gerard told him he played a little but what he played wasn’t great. They talked for a bit while Frank sipped on the tainted alcohol. Gerard led the conversation into some ideas he had created for comics that he thought would translate well into music. Frank seemed really interested Gerard thought. Finally, Frank made the mistake Gerard was hoping he would make: he asked Gerard back to the green room so they could hear each other a little better. After that, Gerard simply waited for Frank to seem beyond inebriated and led him out the back door of the club and into his car. No one ever saw a thing.

    Gerard interlaces his fingers with Frank’s unresponsive ones. He strokes his thumb up and down Frank’s as he leans over him and places a kiss on Frank’s mouth. He allows his tongue to trace Frank’s lower lip. He becomes dissatisfied at the lack of Frank’s lip ring. He has always loved Frank’s lip ring and wanted to feel it pressed against his lips. But he has planned for this, too.

    He steps over to the nightstand and pulls out the piercing supplies he had bought weeks ago. His hands begin shaking as he just thinks about the needle in the package, but he draws in a deep breath to steady himself. He recalls the conversation he’d had with piercing artist, who was not pleased with Gerard “piercing himself at home” but relented after hearing of Gerard’s needle phobia. The artist had given him precise instructions on how to do it.

    Gerard tries to rouse Frank, but Frank remains steadfast asleep. Gerard pulls the nitrile gloves on and goes to work. He meticulously washes Frank’s lip around the small scar from Frank’s previous lip piercing. Carefully he aligns the forceps around it. He closes his eyes for a moment to settle his nerves and then removes the small package containing the needle. Making sure the lip ring is easily accessible, Gerard break the sterile seal on the needle’s blister pack. Making sure to breathe his way through this and look at the actual needle as little as possible, he lines it up to the small, white scar. Gerard draws in a deep breath and holds it in. Then he pushes the needle through Frank’s lip and lets go of it to grab the small, silver loop. Gerard easily exchanges the needle for the lip ring.

    Gerard quickly gathers all the supplies up and takes them into the bathroom. He unlocks the bathroom closet and places it all on the top shelf to dispose of later. He shuts the closet back up and goes back out to Frank lying in the bed. Gerard can’t help but smile down at Frank, who now looks so much better to him. He sits down with his legs crisscrossed on the bed and starts petting Frank’s hair, waiting for Frank to wake and them to start their day together.

    When Frank wakes about an hour later, his head isn’t hurting as bad. But his lip is throbbing. He stretches the kinks out of his body from laying in the same position for so long and then reaches up to touch his mouth. Gerard quickly catches Frank’s hand in his own.

    “No, no,” Gerard chastises gently. “I don’t want you to get it infected, Pretty.” Frank’s eyebrows draw together.

    “You don’t want what to get infected?” he asks, but he can answer his own question; he feels it as his lips move. Frank carefully slides his tongue across the inside of his lip, Gerard intently watching Frank’s tongue in his mouth. He smiles like a proud child at Frank.

    “I fixed it, Pretty. You took it out and let it grow up, so I fixed it again.” Frank scowls at Gerard, but he’s fearful of what will happen if he shows any more anger than that. Gerard pretends to not see the death glare Frank is sending him and continues on. “I got us some breakfast while you were still sleeping, but I’ll have to warm it up a bit now. I’m sure it’s cold; I had to go get it while I was sure you wouldn’t wake, Pretty.” Frank listens incredulously at what Gerard is saying and the fact that this all seems very normal and domestic for Gerard. “I’m sure you need to use the bathroom, too. Do you feel better this morning, Frankie?” Gerard asks as he moves off the bed and starts gathering the breakfast together.

    Frank rubs his hands over his face, muttering from underneath them, “I don’t remember feeling bad last night.” Gerard smiles to himself that the pills work as perfectly as they are supposed to and then quickly hides his delight before turning to face Frank again.

    “You were just slightly disoriented, so you laid down for the night. Come, Pretty,” Gerard all but demands as he reaches his hand for Frank’s. “I can warm our breakfast while you use the bathroom.”

    Frank subtly moves his hand away from Gerard’s but climbs up out of the bed. He’s not ready to be assaulted for infuriating Gerard so early in the morning; from what he can see through the small window, it looks as if the sun has just begun to rise. As he rises to his feet, a small wave of vertigo washes over him, but before he can fall, Gerard is at his side with one hand holding the boxes of breakfast and the other Frank’s arm.

    “Why don’t you just sit here for a moment while I take this in there, and then I’ll come back and help you, hmm?” Gerard seems to ask, but Frank heard the command in the words. He bends his knees as Gerard pushes him gently back onto the bed. Frank watches Gerard grab the cardboard cup holder with two paper coffee cups in it and carry it all into the bathroom, wondering how Gerard’s going to warm food and coffee in a bathroom. Gerard rushes back out and over to Frank’s side. “Careful now, Pretty,” he cautions as Frank get to his feet again.

    “I’m better now,” Frank states coldly, just wanting Gerard to let him be. But Gerard keeps his hand on Frank’s lower back as he guides Frank into the bathroom. Being the first time Frank has really been in this room, he looks around. It’s larger than it first appeared; behind a curtain, Gerard has a kitchenette with a small refrigerator—that Frank notes is too small for him to fit into—under a counter and a microwave and coffee maker on top of the counter. Beside the small counter is shelves stocked with basic pantry items. He glances at Gerard to find Gerard has been watching him this entire time.

    “I have to make sure you eat well, Pretty” is all Gerard says on the matter. “You do your thing while I warm up breakfast.” Frank can again hear the demanding tone, but he draws the line here.

    “I’m not taking a piss with you in here.” Gerard quickly turns back from the small kitchenette to face Frank. Frank crosses his arms over his chest. He can tell the grin that curls Gerard’s lips is forced. Gerard crosses the two paces to stand in front of Frank. Frank’s resolve falters a little, but he doesn’t uncross his arms. Gerard gently brushes his fingertips over Frank’s cheek for a moment before firmly pressing the pads of his middle and ring fingers into the bruised and slightly swollen skin over Frank’s cheekbone, sending a surge of pain through Frank’s face. Frank whimpers faintly, and Gerard doesn’t have to speak for Frank to get the hint. Frank allows his arms to fall to his sides.

    “Let me get breakfast warmed,” Gerard reiterates as his fingers brush softly over Frank’s cheek once more. Gerard leans in and places a brief kiss over the dark mark before returning to the microwave. Frank dislikes having the man’s lips on his face, but he dislikes being threatened and abused even more, so he tries to not let it bother him.

    Frank steps over to the toilet. He takes a look over his shoulder to ensure that Gerard is still busying himself over there before quickly undoing his jeans. He tries to piss in record time and gets his jeans zipped back up. He flushes the toilet, and Gerard looks over his shoulder at Frank.

    “Done?” Frank just nods his head. “I’m going to be a few more minutes here if you’d like to go back out there and wait.” Frank just nods his head and walks out of the bathroom. He wonders into the bedroom and looks around, unsure what to do now. His eyes are drawn to the drawings on the wall. He steps over and starts to look at them. And then he gasps. Most of the drawings are of him or parts of him, his eyes or hands or tattoos or other features. He quickly begins to scan more of the walls. There are a few drawings of what look like comic characters, but most of the pictures are of him. He dashes to the desk and picks up the stack of drawings there. Him, him, him… they are all of Frank.

    “Do you like them?” Gerard’s voice startles Frank, and he drops the stack of drawings back on the desk and jerks around.

    “Th-they’re very, um, w-well drawn,” he stutters. Gerard still seems genuinely pleased with Frank’s comment despite the stammering. Gerard moves through the bedroom towards the bed with the boxes and coffees.

    “You’re very easy to draw, Pretty. The angles and lines of your face are nearly perfect for drawing.” Frank watches Gerard settle into the bed, not knowing if he should be flattered or insulted. Gerard allows Frank to stand there longer than he’d like before asking, “Aren’t you hungry, Pretty?”

    Frank warily sits down on the bed as far from Gerard as he can manage. Gerard passes Frank a box and a cup of coffee. “Thank you,” Frank mutters, barely more than a whisper.

    “I got you eggs, toast, and soy sausage. And the coffee is black, just like you like it. I know it’s not the best, Pretty, but the vegetarian restaurant doesn’t open for another hour.” Frank just nods and begins eating. Gerard watches him for a moment before he begins eating as well.

    They eat in silence for a while. Once Gerard has eaten most of his food, he looks to Frank. “Today you can work on a new song, Pretty. I’m going to draw. And I know you like to stay clean, so later this afternoon, I figured a shower was in order.”

    Frank puts his fork down. “I can’t write music without a guitar,” he states dryly. Gerard’s expression lights up. He puts another forkful of eggs in his mouth before closing the box and nearly jumping off the bed. He leans down beside the bed and produces a guitar case, laying it carefully on the bed beside Frank.

    “I brought this down for you this morning when I got our breakfast, Pretty. I know it’s acoustic and not electric, but my electric won’t work; I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.” Gerard opens the case, and Frank just looks at the guitar for a moment. It’s an old Gibson, but it looks to be well cared for. Frank doesn’t stop himself from allowing his hand to reach out and run down the neck of the instrument. The steel strings against his fingers are soothing to Frank. “Pick it up, Frankie.” Frank honestly feels like that is an invitation from Gerard instead of a demand. He curls his fingers around the neck and withdraws the guitar from its resting place.

    Frank feels a small relief wash through him. He is being allowed his music at least. He strums the strings and begins tuning the guitar. He glances up at Gerard, and Gerard is watching him wide eyed in complete awe. Frank strums again to check the tuning. “Can I write anything?”

    “As long as it’s for me, you can write whatever you want.” Frank plays a short, slow tempo riff. Gerard basks in the hint of genuine happiness in Frank’s expression.

    “Where do you want me to work?” Frank asks timidly. He looks around the room for a place he can set himself up to write a new song.

    “You can have the bed, Pretty. I can sit over there on the floor. Do you need anything else?”

    “A pad and a pencil?”

    Gerard stands from the bed and walks to his art desk. He fumbles on it for a minute. Finding what he’s looking for, he turns back to Frank with a couple of things in his hands. “I only have art supplies, but this is a new drawing pad. And this tin is filled with pencils of different kinds; you can pick whichever one you like.” Gerard hands the items over to Frank. “I’ll leave you be, Pretty,” Gerard states softly. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Frank’s forehead. Frank stiffens his body at the unwanted reminder of his captive status.

    Gerard grabs his own drawing pad and a couple of pencils from the desk. He makes his way to the very corner he had been occupying when Frank had first laid eyes on him. Frank watches him settle into the corner and has a sickening feeling he is going to be the subject of Gerard’s drawing. He tries to push the emotion away and begins quietly playing different chords.

    After playing around with several different ideas, Frank begins to feel the melody emerging from the old guitar. He quickly scribbles down the chords and plays them again. He makes a minor change to it and tries it again. Pleased with the new sound, he makes the change on the paper. He can feel Gerard looking at him, so he glances up.

    Gerard catches Frank’s eyes for a brief moment before looking back down at his pad. He adds another detail to Frank’s fingers positioned over the frets. For all he tries to stop himself, he keeps stealing glances of Frank. He has a god sitting on his bed. A god is playing his guitar. His god is writing him a song. He listens to the music Frank is playing, the music Frank is writing, as he continues to draw the remarkable scene before him.

    (continued in next post) ...
  15. Miz Erie

    Miz Erie Future Violent Staff Member

    ... (continued from post above)

    Frank slides his eyes closed and plays the chorus of the new song over and over. For now, it’s all he has. He’ll have to get some lyrics written before he can really start writing more. With the comforting feeling of a guitar in his hands, he unintentionally lets his guard down. His mind begins playing him memories of writing his first song sitting on his own bed when he was still just a young teenager and progressing through his early years until he was standing on a stage about to play his first set at the junior prom. Frank looses himself in the recollections, and his hands stop moving.

    Gerard picks up on the sudden silence in the room. He looks up to see Frank staring a million miles off. “Pretty?” he calls. Frank’s only movement remains that of his chest rising and falling with his breaths. Gerard stands cautiously and steps closer to Frank. He watches a tear slide down Frank’s cheek. Gods don’t cry. Gerard looks at Frank in confusion. “Frankie?” Gerard caresses the back of Frank’s head, under his ear, and down his jaw line as he lifts Frank’s face to his. “Are you okay, Pretty?” Gerard asks in a voice wrought with concern.

    Frank flinches as he mentally jumps back to the present. He takes in Gerard’s expression, trying to figure out why Gerard looks anxious. Gerard smiles hesitantly when he realizes Frank’s thoughts are back in the room, and he uses his thumb to wipe the stray tear from Frank’s pale skin.

    “Are you okay, Pretty?” Gerard asks again, knowing Frank hears him this time.

    No! I don’t want to be here! You’re keeping me here against my will! But Frank can’t force his mouth the form the words. Instead he settles on, “I just need a break,” as he becomes aware that he has been working on this new song for hours.

    “Okay, Pretty. It’s okay. You can have a break,” Gerard rambles, shaking his head. Frank thinks he should take advantage of Gerard being vulnerable, something he’s sure doesn’t happen often to this man, but he’s too emotionally spent to try. “How about that shower now, Frankie?”

    “I’d like that, Ge—” Frank catches himself about to make a connection with his captor and snaps his mouth shut. Unfortunately, Gerard catches it, too. He removes the guitar from Frank’s lap and kneels down in front of Frank, taking both of Frank’s hands in his.

    “Say my name, Pretty,” he states, but Frank catches the undertones of pleading in his voice. Frank just looks at him for a moment and then looks away towards the floor. Gerard tightens his grip on Frank’s hands, crushing them until Frank tries to pull away in pain. “Say my name, Frankie.” This time, the pleading undertone is gone, replaced by hostility. Frank just continues to try to pull his hands from Gerard’s vice-like grip. Gerard pulls Frank’s hands to his chest, pulling Frank closer to him. “Say it,” he growls.

    “No,” Frank breathes. Instantly he regrets it. Gerard’s eyes fill with rage. Gerard jerks Frank up off the bed by his t-shirt.

    “I’m going to give you one more chance to say it or I will make you say it,” he snarls with clenches teeth. Frank swallows hard and prepares himself for the pain he knows is about to follow. Gerard realizes Frank isn’t going to speak his name.

    He throws Frank to the floor. Before Frank has completely landed on the floor, Gerard’s boot collides with Frank’s ribcage. The air in Frank’s lungs is involuntarily expelled. Frank tries to draw in a jagged breath but is stopped when Gerard kicks him again. And again, and again… until Frank loose count of how many times the worn boot has struck his torso. Frank tries to pull his body into a fetal position to protect his organs from further damage, but Gerard throws himself over Frank, stretching out Frank’s body on the floor.

    Frank feels Gerard’s breath on the shell of his ear as he whispers, “Just say it, whisper it, breathe my name, pretty, and I’ll stop.” Frank only has enough time to draw a ragged breath before Gerard’s fist lands the first of many blows to Frank’s head. Frank doesn’t try to count them; he only tries to focus on his raspy breathing, providing him the knowledge that he’s still alive and still conscious. But with each strike of Gerard’s fist, Frank finds it harder and harder to stay awake. He takes one last shuddery breath and allows the pain in his body and face to consume him.

    Gerard feels Frank’s body go limp under him. He pulls his bloody fist back and looks down at Frank’s face. Frank’s eyes are still open and moving just slightly, but even though he’s still technically conscious, Gerard knows Frank is unaware of anything anymore. He straightens himself up to sit on Frank’s hips for a minute, taking account of the damage done. He hadn’t meant to lose control like that; he had just wanted to hear his name slip between Frank’s perfect lips. Gerard pulls Frank’s shirt up and wipes away some of the blood on Frank’s face. Frank lets out a groan that sounds like he’s in agony.

    “Let’s get you that shower now, Pretty,” Gerard mutters as if Frank can hear him. He stands from his seated position on Frank’s hips and retrieves some clothes he had bought for Frank, replicas of Frank’s LeATHERMOUTH stage clothes and some boxer briefs, and some clothes for himself from his dresser. He carries it into the bathroom and starts the shower running. He comes back to where Frank is laying half conscious on the floor and undresses him where he lies. Once Frank is fully nude, Gerard strips off his own clothes. He gathers Frank’s broken form in his arms and carries him into the bathroom. He can hear the small, pain-laced sounds Frank emits with every movement of his body.

    Gerard settles Frank down into the tub, making sure the shower spray isn’t in Frank's face. Gerard settles himself between Frank’s legs on his knees. He starts gingerly sponging the blood off Frank’s face. Once his face is clean, Gerard is pleased to not find as much damage under all the blood as he expected. But Frank has a gash on his forehead that Gerard is going to have to sew up, something Gerard isn’t looking forward to doing. Then Gerard shampoos the blood out of Frank’s hair.

    Gerard decides to allow Frank a reprieve. He stands and shampoos his hair. He adds the conditioner, letting it sit in his hair while he soaps up his own body. His eyes stay trained on Frank, watching for any sign that Frank is coming around. When Frank whimpers slightly louder than he’s been, Gerard quickly rinses himself and his hair. He kneels back down between Frank’s legs and begins soaping Frank up. He gets his arms and armpits washed, moving on to Frank’s chest and stomach.

    “Please don’t,” Frank whines weakly. Gerard raises his gaze to see Frank pleading to him with his hazy eyes. Gerard cocks his head sideways a tiny bit and pets Frank’s wet hair.

    “I have to clean you up, Pretty. I have to get the blood washed off,” Gerard mutters thoughtfully. In some other place, in some other time, Frank knows he would care that he’s in a shower naked with another naked man—a naked, obsessive psycho who just beat him severely—but he’s really in too much pain to care. He cries silently, waiting for the torture to be over. Gerard continues to look at him. Gods don’t break. Gerard swiftly carries on washing Frank.

    “It hurts,” Frank moans painfully to himself. Gerard stops moving the sponge over Frank’s skin.

    “Are you clean enough, Pretty? Do you want me to get you out now, Frankie?” Frank weakly nods his head. Gerard rinses the soap off Frank and turns the shower off. He dries as much of Frank’s body as he can with Frank still lying in the tub. He wraps the half wet towel around his waist and scoops Frank up. Frank cries out in agony and his breathing rate greatly increases. Gerard carries him to the bed, laying Frank’s broken form on the bed as gently as he can. Gerard leaves Frank on the bed for a moment and gets two white pills and a blue one from the bathroom. He grabs a bottle of water from the small fridge. Gerard takes it back out to Frank.

    “Take these, Pretty. They will help.” The sight of the pills tugs at something in Frank’s mind, like a memory Frank should remember. But all Frank knows is that Gerard hasn’t lied to him yet, and Gerard said the pills would help. He swallows the pills with Gerard’s help.

    Gerard watches Frank lean back against the pillow and shut his eyes. He goes back into the bathroom. He towels off the water that hasn’t dried already before putting his clothes back on. He picks up the clothes he had gotten out for Frank and takes them back to the bed with him. Frank has quieted some, so Gerard knows the pills have begun to work.

    “Pretty, I’m going to put your clothes on.” Frank doesn’t respond except to open his eyes and look up at Gerard. Gerard can’t read the expression in them, so he puts Frank’s clothes on him, trying to move Frank as little as possible. When Gerard tries to sit Frank up some to put his shirt on him, Frank cries out again. Gerard gently lays Frank back down on the bed without the shirt, figuring Frank can put it on in the morning. At least Frank has underwear and pants on.

    Gerard tosses the shirt over his dresser and climbs in the bed beside Frank, but he keeps his distance from Frank’s body. He watches Frank’s irregular breathing for a while. Suddenly his stomach growls, and Gerard realizes they never ate dinner. He looks down Frank’s chest and stomach, at all the dark impressions littering it; he doesn’t feel like eating. He looks back to Frank’s face, to more dark places marking Frank’s pale skin. He realizes Frank is crying silently again. He turns off the light and watches the tears escaping Frank’s closed eyes in the moonlight coming in the small window. He intertwines their fingers. Gerard can feel Frank squeeze his hand, so he lightly squeezes it back. Eventually the tears stop falling, and Gerard checks Frank’s breathing. It’s still irregular but not as bad as it was, and Gerard knows Frank is well under the drugs’ effects now. He brings their hands to his mouth, places a kiss on top of Frank’s, and settles them back down between them.

    Two thoughts plague Gerard’s mind as he falls asleep: Gods don’t cry. Gods don’t break.


    I'm really, really hoping someone picked up on something very specific in this chapter! I don't think I could have made it more clear except to have come right out said it blatantly, which I won't do; it'd ruin the story.

    I can't wait to see what you all have to say about this chapter. I know a few were expecting nothing but Gerard beating, torturing, and raping Frank, but what kind of depth could a story like that really have?

    Thanks for reading! Hugs and loves!!
  16. Chemical 30

    Chemical 30 Just 'That' Girl

    Oh my poor Frank...I'd hate to see what happens when Gerard finds out Frank isn't all he thought he was :(
    But great chapter can't wait for more!
  17. TheLivingDead

    TheLivingDead Member

    Well, you surprised me again. Though, with you, I wasn't actually that surprised, it was just really unexpected. I never thought that Gerard would go so far as to actually pierce Frank's lip! I mean, I miss the piercing a lot, but I'd never repierce it while Frankie was drugged asleep.

    I also wasn't expecting Gerard to give Frank a guitar. But, I'm not surprised, even in psycho state Gerard is pretty thoughtful. Even if he really just wanted Frank to write him a song.

    Another thing I loved were the drawings. I meant what I said. They give the story an added creepy appeal. And an added pychotic appeal.

    I have many ideas of what I think will happen in this story, but I'm not about to tell you what they are. I'm just going to sit quietly and wait for you to finish and see if my conclusions are right.
  18. ColorGuardian

    ColorGuardian New Member

    Oh my gosh new update!:drool: I loved it! I'm a littl surprised that I like this even though its so dark...but you write it so well! Poor Frankie though... that's rough. I couldn't imagine that happening in real life even though, sadly, it does. Wonderful work! Can't wait for more!
  19. adrenaline 2019

    adrenaline 2019 New Member

    Poor Frankie,,,, but this update was well written, it was amazing, and I loved it :) i will read on
  20. I absolutely adore this. It is well written and very descriptive. I feel like I know what frank is vowing through and as another has said, I love how you can see what Gerard feels also. It it obvious that there are underlying issues to his madness and I can't wait to find out what that's is. I'll just sit here patiently awaiting and update.

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