James Cameron Got it Wrong // Frerard

chapter five

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The way the rumble of the Trans Am's engine makes the seat vibrate under Frank's ass is getting to be a familiar sensation. He's not riding shotgun this time though, Mikey is. Gerard's driving and Frank and Ray are in the back seat. They're flying down an unfinished road, zeroing in on coordinates Mikey got from a guy who got it from a guy who got it from another guy. Because even in the future, Mikey still knows everyone.

No one's talking in the car, so it's just engine noise and static from the radio. It's making Frank edgy. He keeps twitching and shifting in his seat, in complete juxtaposition to the other guys who are inhumanly still. Finally, he can't stand the silence anymore, asking the first vaguely neutral question he can think of.

"When's the last time you saw him?" He doesn't even need to say Brian's name, everyone knows that's who he means.

The silence drags on a little longer while the other three wait it out to see who'll answer first. Gerard loses the game, which is no surprise; he needs to talk like he needs air. "2008 is when he stopped managing us."

"Because?" Frank presses, he can't help himself. He can't see Gerard's face but his hands on the steering wheel are in Frank's field of vision. He's gripping it so hard his knuckles are white.

"Change of career path. Decided he wanted to be a stuntman."

"You're shitting me."

Gerard glances over his shoulder at Frank through a flying tangle of red hair. "No."

"So what, he closed down Riot Squad?" Frank can't imagine Brian shutting down his company. It's his baby.

"Yeah." Gerard confirms, and his tone makes it clear he doesn't want more questions.

"Not like he had much of a choice." Mikey says, his tone unreadable.

Frank bites his lip to keep from asking more questions, even though he's so fucking curious now. He slumps back in the seat, his mind still spinning over the possibilities, trying to fit the pieces together and coming up short.

He knows there's more to it. The way the guys are acting, something went down, something ugly. Something Frank probably doesn't want to know about, not if he wants to be able to go back to 2005 and pick it up whatever threads he can of his old life. It's hard though, knowing this. It shakes his world up even more than Bob leaving, because at least that was amicable. Brian is - was? - their friend.

Frank presses down his anger and confusion. Things change. He doesn't know - and for once he doesn't want to know - the details.

When they arrive at the coordinates Mikey's got scrawled across the back of a BL flyer, there's nothing there but a derelict-looking shack, half-rotted weatherboards slanting with age and a slash of red paint on the door. Gerard eases the Trans Am to a standstill and turns his gaze on Mikey, who just shrugs. "I never said they were gonna be the right coordinates."

Gerard rolls his eyes but puts on the parking brake, because of course they're going to investigate.

"It could be a trap," Ray points out, and rightly so. Frank doesn't want to think about opening that front door and finding it teeming with dracs, but it's absolutely a possibility. You can't take anything at face value in this future, as he's learning.

"Could be," Mikey says, side of his mouth quirking up, the words practically a challenge. Ray returns the almost-smile with one of his own, before drawing his gun and slipping out of the vehicle in one fast, graceful move. Mikey and Gerard do the same, leaving Frank feeling slow and clumsy as he lets himself out of the car and fumbles for his weapon.