Turn Off The Dark (Frerard)

Part Thirty-Two

Hey guys!

So it's been an eventful start of the school year.. my senior year in high school, and everything's very rushed and eccentric. It's crazy to think I'll be graduating. Anyway.

I love writing this story. It makes me immensely happy to put my ideas out there, and even more happy to have people actually reading and enjoying them.

Am I entirely sure where I'm going with this story? The answer is, well, mostly. I have a general idea of where it will ultimately lead. How we reach that end, my dears, is the real question.

It's a little like life itself. We know just exactly where we all end up when it's all said and done, but how we reach the finish line is a mystery until it's happening. But I digress.

My other stories, yes, I will be getting around to updating sometime in the near future. However, this is my main priority, and will continue to be until I'm satisfied with the way this eventually ends.

Another note I'd like to make. If you have not already read Folie à Deux, a frerard on this same website by the fabulous Eve (adrenalineparty), you're wrong. Hers is the best frerard story I have ever had the immense pleasure of reading, and I highly recommend you go and read that, very soon. She is an absolutely amazing writer and that story deserves more reads than it has, and I'll be the first to tell you that. So if you're looking for more frerard stories, keep that one in mind first and foremost. Just saying.

In conclusion here, thanks again for all your support with this story. As always, I'd appreciate any input you have, please feel free to critique away. I love you all. Be seeing you.

-Morgan

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-Gerard's POV-

Frank didn't ask any questions, and I was grateful for that. I didn't offer anything up either. What was said that day was between Vic and I.

However, I sensed something was off when I initially arrived back at the apartment. Things may have been moved around slightly. But then, there was no reason for Frank to move my piles of boxes. And he claimed to have been sleeping while I was gone. There was no reason for me not to trust Frank, so I tried put it out of my head.

It wasn't hard.

I was so easily caught up in him, intoxicated by those lips and those hips. That night was easily the most vulnerable I had ever been, around anyone, in my entire life.

Exposed.

Begging for him.

Completely in tune with him, and with myself.

Uninhibited.

-----

Late that night, a meteor shower took place. Frank was fast asleep, wrapped in the sheets and in my arms, and I could see the celestial action through my window.

Streaks of light flew across the sky. Pretty, and tragic, in a sense, watching something burn up. Only the human race could find destruction and call it beautiful.

Tearing my eyes away, I ran my fingers through Frank's luscious locks and wondered how many more times I was going to get to do this. If all went well, Frank would never go anywhere. If my well-formulated but risky plan fell through the substantial cracks- this would be the first and last time I ever felt Frank's skin on mine this way.

-----

"Get rid of Maynard?" Vic repeated.

I nodded.

The seriousness of what I was stipulating seemed to reach him, because he put his drink down on the coffee table and sat upright, folding his arms across his chest and meeting my eyes expectantly.

"I need details."

I took a deep breath.

"I didn't want it to come to this, but Frank is the one good thing in my life, and I'm not gonna be torn away from him. I want Maynard gone. I know about him. He has no friends, no substantial family..."

"He's a policeman, Gerard" Vic interjected. I had to chuckle a little. He didn't even seem to mind that I was proposing a murder. I always knew my childhood friend was just as fucked up in the head as I.

"And that's exactly why we're never going to touch him" I stated.

Vic's eyebrows came together in a stare of confusion.

"How the fuck-"

"Psychological torture" I told him, my excitement almost too apparent- eyes burning a little too bright, hands shaking just a little. "The same as he did to me. Days in that interrogation room and week after week in the psych center. I was just a kid, Vic. And I want that son of a bitch to feel every modicum of pain that I felt in my head. I will not let him take away my happiness, not again."

Vic considered this for a long moment, then opened his right hand, wherein his palm resided a faded scar that matched the one on my left palm. Vic smiled.

"Blood brothers, remember?"

I almost laughed, grateful and relieved and mischievous.

"Of course" I said, and we shook hands the way we did long ago in my backyard, just two eight year olds and a shard of broken glass.

-----

Frank stirred against me. I sighed into his hair and pulled him closer, and smiled upon hearing a sleepy noise of satisfaction escape him.

I wanted to hear that noise every night for the rest of my life.

No fucking way in hell was that son of a bitch cop going to separate me from my only chance at love and a happy life.