Wintertime (Frerard, Sequel to Summertime)

21: i love having a plot its so much fun well not for u its quite painful for u

"Gerard, what's going on?" Frank grabbed his boyfriend by the wrist; the two outside Frank's old house, just across the street, and Gerard appeared to be shaking all over, having stormed out of the place only minutes prior, leaving Frank to apologise awkwardly to an old lady he barely knew before running after and attempting to make sense of his boyfriend.

Gerard groaned, turning away from Frank, "we shouldn't have gone here." He cursed, glancing back towards the place, and perhaps getting a glimpse of the figure he'd seen before Beth had appeared, "I should have listened," he added, cursing, "it doesn't make sense though... this place... it's just... it's bad, everything here is bad."

"Well it's not like the home I got abused in is going to be a happy place, is it? What did you expect? I didn't expect much." Frank continued to hold onto Gerard, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his lips, "it's not like I can help you if you don't explain - I can't see the things you can, and anyway... I thought you said you couldn't see anything for some reason... or were you lying to me?"

"I wasn't lying." Gerard let out a sigh, pulling Frank into his chest, "I just found out why I couldn't see anything else inside that place, I just found out why we shouldn't have gone inside. I saw something in that room. Something horrible."

"What did you see?" Frank pressed on: his tone insistent.

"You ought to know, but I..." Gerard choked out, still shaking a little, "this one, it was just... far more vivid than the rest of the memories and shit I can see... prominent, stronger, and it was effecting your reality too-"

"What do you mean, Gerard?" Frank exclaimed, still holding on tight to his boyfriend's wrist.

"The ceiling fan just wouldn't turn on, but there's nothing physically wrong with it." Gerard reminded Frank, "I could see very fucking easily why it doesn't work," he continued, locking eyes with Frank, "someone had hung themself from there, and I could feel it, that's what's blocking everything else out, or at least I think so. I can never be sure, but we shouldn't have been there in the first place. The woman I saw outside that I thought was talking to someone else, I think she was talking to me."

"What do you mean, Gerard, what the fuck do you-"

"She looked at you, Frank, she looked at you from across the street and told me very specifically not to bring you in there, but I did, didn't I and now I..." Gerard shook his head, her exact words perhaps permanently imprinted upon his brain, "now I don't know what's gonna happen, but I feel like it's not gonna be good."

"Who was it hanging from the ceiling fan?" Frank soon lost all of his patience, his tone growing stern as he met Gerard's eyes.

"Frank..." Gerard trailed off, biting his lip, unsure of how to break this gently or if there was anyway to do so at all. "It was your father."

Frank stood there in silence for a moment, frozen as if he hadn't quite heard Gerard, but from the look in his eyes, Gerard was very certain he had.

"She said... Beth said..." his tone suddenly grew very quiet as he gestured back to the house, "she said... liver failure... why would she lie?"

"I don't know, Frank, I'm sorry, I don't know, I don't know anything at all, I just saw him there." Gerard let out a sigh, "I can try to focus, I mean there must be some more parts of him connected to this town, his grave perhaps? There's lots of things we can try, but I don't know, I don't know if they'll work, I just-"

"He hung himself the night before my birthday." Frank interjected, his voice shaking a little, "that can't mean nothing... it's my fault, isn't it? I fucked things up-"

"Frank, he fucking abused you and you're gonna-" Gerard cut himself off, simply pulling Frank into his chest, "nothing's your fault," he whispered, changing his approach, "and nothing's for certain. I can promise you that."