Convicts - Frerard

Chapter 8

Time is simply a creation of the mind.

It's not real.

The brain fabricated it as another puzzle piece in evolution to ensure we survive and can function.

Yes planets orbit and all that science stuff; but hours, minutes, seconds- that's all mind created.

A concept. An idea.

Frank wasn't sure how much time had passed.

To his brain it felt like seconds, in reality it was most likely quite a few minutes, possibly an hour.

Dr.Way had only a chance to pull a few more words from the patient before Frank ceased the discussion.

But Frank supposed the doctor had counted that as a win, because he allowed him to leave without attempting to stop him.

A mop of blinding red awaited him in the side sitting room and he collapsed next to his former cell mate with a heavy sigh.

"Wanna talk about it?"Gerard ask softly, his eyes never flickering from the sketch his hand seemed to be creating on its own.

Frank made a noise of protest, too exhausted to physically form words, and let his head nuzzle into Gerard's shoulder.

The older boy simply smiled and continued to pour his ideas onto the paper.

Frank started drifting off, exhaustion wrecking his body in waves.

But as his eyes fluttered open just as he was about to drift off, Gerard's art stared up at him.

Black. Pure black. The only white showing was the soulless eyes and fang-like teeth.

The creature was twisted, consuming, and covered in what appeared to be black tar.

Red. 

Red leaking from it's eyes, strongly resembling blood.

Frank hadn't realized he was holding his breath until a pale hand squeezed his own.

"You okay?" Gerard whispered.

Frank found it difficult to look away from the bone chilling drawing.

It was haunting, disturbing in every sense of the word.

"Are you?" Frank whispered back as he finally looked up.

Gerard smiled halfheartedly and gave his hand another squeeze.

"We are at a mental institution." 

Frank chuckled before sighing and flopping his head back onto the shoulder belonging to his companion.

"You drew me."Frank whispered after a moment.

Gerard froze before glancing down at his small figure in confusion.

"They didn't bring you your stuff....And uh they let me keep it." Frank felt color taint his cheeks as his eyes examined the carpet. "It's beautiful."

"Just like you."

Frank made a noise in protest, allowing his eyes to shut as he hid his face into the warm shoulder to cover his blushing.

Gerard giggled- actually giggled- and closed his sketchbook.

"C'mon sleepy." 

Frank hadn't realized one of his hands was still being held captive until it was pulled to haul him to his feet and guide him to the room.

"Get some sleep pansy." Gerard lightly shoved Frank onto his bed.

Frank smiled and did as told.

Why did his throat hurt?

Why did his face feel weird?

"It's okay Frankie. It's okay. It's just a bad dream. It will pass. You sleep and I will be here to protect you. I promise." Gerard's voice spoke softly from behind him.

Frank hardly registered he had been crying, refusing to fully wake up due to the warmth holding him.

Gerard smiled when Frank shifted into a more comfortable position in his arms before relaxing.

Frank smiled too.