The Institute (Frerard)

Lost and Looking

Gerard walked down the streets slowly, his head moving form side to side. He had no idea where he was and he was scared. The route to Frank’s house had always been taken in full daylight and now Gerard found himself in the dark, where everything appeared to have disappeared with the sun. His hands rubbed up and down his bare arms, struggling to keep warm in the thin shirt he wore. His skinny jeans and Doc Martins were keeping one half of his body reasonably warm but the loose thin shirt he wore wasn’t doing much good. His sketchbook was tucked into his back pocket, Gerard thanking for the first time that the book was small.

Inside Gerard’s sketchbook lay all his secrets and the inside workings of his mind. He had sketches, ideas, songs and how he felt about Frank; all written in the one small sketchbook. Gerard was planning on showing Frank all his songs tonight and to tell him something important. Gerard had a few pages of writing in the back of the sketchbook, purely for Frank’s eyes. If something were to happen to Gerard, Frank had to read the writing in the back. But nothing was going to happen to Gerard anytime soon, so they were okay.

Cold wind blew Gerard’s black hair around his face and raised goose bumps over his arms. Every breath Gerard exhaled was completely visible. It was almost as if he were smoking again, but without the sour taste.

Since he was ten, Gerard had been pushed from mental home to mental home. The only people he had known were patients or doctors. His social skills had dulled considerably, so he didn’t know not to talk to strangers. He didn’t know how to look for the police. He had no idea what trouble he would get into when he walked into the shifty, dimly lit club.

*

“Frank, it’s happened again,” Bob said into the phone, pacing outside Stacey’s hospital room.

“What’s happened?” Frank asked. He was back at Glenside, assisting with Nadia.

“Gerard has decided he wants to see you,” Bob sighed, running a hand through his short blonde hair.

“Oh shit. I’m not at home though,” Frank stressed, walking away from the group of doctors he’d been talking with.

“Nah shit, Frankie. Plus, it’s dark so he’s going to get lost. God knows what’s gonna happen then…”

“I gotta find him…” Frank wasn’t far from tearing out his hair. “I gotta go, Bryar. Take care of Stacey.” Frank ended the call and pocketed his phone. He took of running without telling the doctors where he was headed.

Kathy sat in her usual chair, wide-awake. “Hey Frankie,” she greeted as Frank ran past. “Bye Frankie!” she chuckled as he passed without response.

Frank slammed through the front doors of Glenside, the doors flying back to hit the wall. He cursed himself for not bringing his car today and opting to walk. Frank’s speed dropped slightly as he started down the familiar streets. He had no problem walking in the darkness. He had worked a lot of night shifts and gone home in the pitch dark more than could be counted. The dark was no stranger.

*

Loud music pounded into Gerard’s ears, making him wince. It was too loud, too hot, and too unfamiliar. People danced around him, bumping him around. Gerard brought his shoulders in closer and tried to find his way out of the seemingly endless pile of bodies.